#anyway i hope they reap the rewards of being loved soon

[tomwambsgans]

greg always speaking for tom's repressed subconscious/what he's not willing to say himself + tom always accurately calling greg out when he's being fake + their true selves are only ever fully Known through each other, mortification absent

[pastelpaperplanes]

You mostly draw Megatron with Crusade in his Cybertronian look but in your canons it was said that while carrying the spark Megs wore his Marauder look. Did Megatron changed bodies or is the Canon changed?

yes! haha so hmm let’s see. So far up until A Little Too Familiar I have tossed Crusade into my Crackship AU—because with the Cybertron’s future AU with a whole lot of my other sparklings, ones that have considered backstories, they wouldn’t exist because of Shamus and Envoy!—and yes in the Crack AU, Megan does sport his Marauder Upgrade.

I’m still 1000% open to keeping Crusade as like,,a cameo for the Crack AU but I will say I’m getting far too attached to their character to better NOT explore them more in a more intricate backstory kind of sense! Many of the asks I’ve answered previously about Crusade’s personality and future are still canon—with the exemption that Crusade has a far more present/loving relationship with their Carrier, who as a literal helicopter parent is near suffocating in his protectiveness and efforts to keep his sparkling away from the hands and influence of the Autobots, even if that means locking them away on the Nemesis far too much to be healthy, and lying straight to their face, and others, about their origins.

Since the TFN 2021 S4 kickoff script reading I’ve been leaning towards guess what—a whole other AU that continues RIGHT after that point, much like where the CF AU would—only certain rescission within the timeline have been changed leading to, in some relationships, a vastly different setting for a next generation! (No, I don’t think I’d create a whole ton of other sparklings in place, for example a planned Strika/Lugnut kiddo wouldn’t happen for obvious reasons, nor would Shmaus or Envoy exist!! Who would remain, THAT I will figure out later down the line.) So Megatron is not in his Marauder form, Optimus is named Magnus, Jazz is with team Prime/Ninja Corps, Sentinel is still a dick figures, Prowl is still dead and so forth.

What I have planned is sort of like where the Deceptions sport a retreat after their bust on Earth when attempting to take over the central line of techno organic energon. The Cons faced losses, high command was scrambled and still very much injured from their cruel, and unusual keeping within Trypticon, heavy sacrifices turned out to NOT reap greater rewards, and the troops are still starving—and starving, scared mecha are far more dangerous than angry ones.

Optimus is still coming to terms that he is due to lead Cybertron, under the title of Optimus Magnus as soon as he’s back, whether he likes it or not as the front lines are still very much on edge with the evermore increasingly violent rouge Con raids.

I made some commentary on the reading as a whole which was PHENOMENAL and I’m still riding the high that is the fanTASTIC work that was put into is, like god. There was a brief but hilarious moment from Rattletrap where he attempted to sell off a crudely photoshopped Megop photograph as dirt—a part of me thought it would be even MORE hilarious if said photo was actually, used and Op was left sputtering after a double take going like how did they find that. HOW.

My poor, poor fanfic loving heart got going on of course the What if the Enemies Were Fraternizing Throughout the Whole of The Show, Morals be Damned in Those Stolen Moments Because I Like YOU For Some Reason trope. Wow is me, be still my beating HEART. It did not stop—so I made another AU :D yayyyyy

Basically the creation of Crusade follows along in this timeline in that sense. They were a product of one too many lonely nights in some far off abandoned cave that never could quite seem to end with a civil conversation, let alone spark apprehension from the other when it came to going toe to toe of the battlefield for the sake of their Causes. A Comfort without Strings relationship, even if they did come to grow fond of each other, not that they’d ever admit it—a confession, in a sense, would only hurt both parties knowing that the two would never give up their motivations in the ‘impossible ‘case that said feelings were mutual.

From the looks of it, the Autobots did not once tend to the Deceptions during their stay at Trypticon. Megs still sported bare struts and tattered armor up to his escape—it would be believable that medics never once ran scans, let alone were ordered to get anywhere near the high command. With already being in such poor shape, battered, humiliated, starved, violated (those minicons?? homage to Trepan??? yikessssss) and sedated—it would be believable that Megatron wouldn’t pay notice to a small flutter in his spark amongst all the pain and anxiety, at least until he finally could gather his bearings under the lockdown of his temporary fortress stuck on Earth.

Megatron, knowing he was alone, now extremely vulnerable, heavily outnumbered and out favored by his remaining struggling troops, called upon his definitely not most favorite sub team to cower behind—the DJD, to meet his blaring distress beacon.

Tarn and his crew, with the help of the rest of high command’s signal dampeners, are able to as covertly as possible—minus the world sweeper size of the Peaceful Tyranny and the paralyzing droning on of the Empyrean Suite that Tarn just loves so dearly—made it off planet save for a few bumps and bruises from the small force of Team Prime. The High & Mighty Megatron was no where to be seen in the action. Probably off in a hurry to lick his wounds in retreat after getting his ass handed to him, many assumed, but Nickel knew better. Tarn knew better. Something was terribly wrong in order to resort to a ‘cowardly’ extraction and evasion mission.

You can see where I’m going w this—so anyways YES that is the general gist of where this AU kicks off!!! Megs and Op, particularly Megs, got unlucky on their last night together—eventually all leading to the introduction of the previously secretive back up weapon that was the DJD. Coming to the rescue of their Fearless, All Powerful, and Resilient Leader?? A strange, but instantly understandable measure to resort to once Megatron reveals himself as a carrying mech, the beholder of a true heir and a testament to the resilience that is the Deceptions though the terrible reign the Autobots have held against them through the eons.

I’ll go into why he keeps Crusade on a tight leash and Op out of the loop entirely for as long as he possibly could—and how the rest of Megaton’s troops behaved around this clearly, half blooded Con sparkling their leader doted on— later!

Needless to say, Crusade’s reputation from the moment they were born was tottering on a fine line between that of pitiable condolences for their leader, and that of true Decepticon pride knowing that the one to lead them to glory some day is none other than one of the Autobots’ very own descendants.

Hope that kinda better explains things! I like Meg’s Cybertronian design, it’s sleek, it’s sexy, it’s easier to draw, and since S4 gave us a fresher design to admire of Optimus, why not have the same for his other half!

YEAHH. so new AU :D AYOOOO I’ll tag this timeline/future mentionings of Crusade and their journey as Cybertron’s Legacy AU

extremely stupid doodle under the cut! I can’t get over the duality of Old Written vs New Written Crusade ahhh 💀💀

I found a horrifically perfect tik tok audio for these two oml

Swapping Megatron stories!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 22 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.

He was in the Nightless City, which was.

“How…?”

“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”

Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”

Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”

Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.

“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”

“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”   

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”

That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them. 

He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.

Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”

“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”

He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth. 

“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”

Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”

He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.

“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”

“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”

Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.

“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”

Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”

“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”

The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”

Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”

Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.

Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”

“Don’t apologize.”

Lan Qiren stopped.

Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.

“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.

Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”

“…the latter is more polite.”

“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”

“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”

Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…

“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”

“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”

“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”

“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”

“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”

“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”

“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.

Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?

He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.

He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.

It would be better to compromise.

And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.

For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.

He’d have to find a way to do both.

So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.

It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.

“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”

“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”

“You have no sense of proportion!”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”

Lan Qiren scowled.

“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”

Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…

“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”

“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”

Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.

Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.

Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.

“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.

It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time. 

The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.

He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.

“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”

“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”

Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”

Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”

“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”

He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.

It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.

His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.

“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”

“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”

“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”

“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”

Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”

When they parted that night, all was well.

The peace did not last until morning.

[jokertrap-ran]

Collar X Malice ~Unlimited~ Shiraishi Kageyuki Character CD’s Mini-drama Translation

「 Steam with Two」

*Commissioned by a Shiraishi fan , Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

Collar X Malice Character CD: Mini-Drama [Steam with Two]

This is a convenient dream for one such as I. Of a future to come that may or may not happen on a stroke of good luck. Although, no one knows for sure whether what’s happening now is an illusion or reality itself. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that it is a treasured time of mine.

The time that I can spend with her without any distractions in the way is calm, peaceful; warm and welcoming. It’s really heartwarming. And even if I’m still unsure of it, I’m pretty certain that these feelings blooming within my chest are real.

—— —— ≿————-　❈　————-≾ —— ——

Heh~? So this is the famed Hot-Spring Inn in Kyoto? What tasteful preferences you have. We could have gone overseas, you know. Who would have thought that you’d be okay with just a trip to the Hot Springs? 

Well, it’s also my first time going to one so I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out. I guess I wouldn’t have ever stepped foot into one in my entire life if it wasn’t for you. 

Yes, yes; don’t tug on me. The Inn won’t be running anyway from you anytime soon.

Now that we’re here...Was pillow-fighting one of the first things you should do in a place like this, again? No? I see. Then is it only something one does at night? I see, so that’s how it is. Speaking of, wasn’t there a rose bath here? You were reading a pamphlet on the Inn and I happened to oversee it. But that’s girls-only so do tell me how it is later on! Let’s head on straight to the Hot Springs once we set our belongings down. I’ll be entering too so how about we decide on a time to meet back up again?

—— —— ≿————-　❈　————-≾ —— ——

So this is a Hot Spring...Seems like there are different properties in the water depending on the area…? This one here revitalizes the skin, helps with muscle aches and...beautiful skin? Does this mean that she’ll come out with silky smooth skin? It’s usually nice to the touch; I wonder how much it’ll change once she gets out of there. Oh, yes; maybe I should ask her to let me touch her skin once she gets out later. I’m usually satisfied with just a shower, alone, but who would’ve thought that soaking in such a large expanse of hot water’s this calming?

They have different colours and scents in the many areas and there’s even water coming out from that area over there. Heh. This might be more interesting than I originally thought it was. Still, it’s a little lacking in something...It feels as if I can’t get the full experience alone by myself. I wonder if she’s enjoying the rose bath right now? Strange...People are normally just pawns and I have no qualms using them to attain my goal. Else, they’d simply be observational subjects for the greater good; that’s all they were to me. I knew that I’d always be alone out in the world and that was how I lived, more or less. There are times when it’s relaxing to be close to her, but sometimes, it makes my heart flutter and become abuzz with something. Choosing my words wisely, thinking twice about my actions and worrying about what I can do to make her happy. This love was something that I thought I could live without ever knowing; It was thanks to this that I learnt how important it was to understand others. She’s something I’ll never let go of. For someone like me, someone who doesn’t hope; who doesn’t dare hope. She is the one thing I’ll never lose.

I can no longer return to pretending not to know. I wonder if I’m broken? She was the one who broke me.

—— —— ≿————-　❈　————-≾ —— ——

Hmm...she’s late. I do hope she didn’t fall asleep while she was still in the rose bath. I don’t think that’s even possibly, actually. But she did say that she didn’t manage to sleep quite well yesterday since she had trouble falling asleep...Now I’m concerned. And peeking into the girl’s bath...no, that’s a bad idea after all. Oh? Thank goodness! Seems like you’re still in one piece. No; I was just worried because you were late. I thought that perhaps you fell asleep while soaking in the hot water or maybe you spaced out for too long and got yourself into an unfortunate accident.

What, so you were running late because you were drying your hair? Me? I’m fine with my hair being a little on the wet side. You want to dry it for me when we return to our room? Mmph...You’re so coddling. Maybe it’ll be more manly for me if I leave it to dry on it’s own. Let’s head back then. Hm? This scent...I knew it! You have a sweet scent wafting off you. It’s nice. Oh! So, how was the hot spring? Did it make your skin beautiful like they were advertising? Hm? But I can’t check for myself unless I get up close and it’s not like I can enter the rose bath either. Plus, I can’t check and see the effects of the Hot Spring if I don’t touch your skin, right? That’s why, hugging’s the easiest way out! I wonder if the scent will stick onto me too if we stay like that long enough. It might not be too bad to have the same scent as you.

Embarrassed? Isn’t this amount of skinship normal though? I mean, even you pull off antics that leave me shocked at how embarrassing it is at times. Yes, yes. Well, I got to see an interesting expression of yours so I guess all’s well and fine. Besides, we’ve got an entire day to ourselves so I can always throw a hug your way. Yeah, I’m happy. Of course, I was also looking forward to this trip with you. 

I seemed no different from my usual self? You’re as dense as ever. Won’t you have figured it out if only you had observed me a little more? 

—— —— ≿————-　❈　————-≾ —— ——

It’ll be boring if we just returned to our rooms and there’s still some time before dinner is served so a walk would have worked too...what are you doing? Table-tennis? Even I know what tennis is. It’s the thing where you take rackets and hit the ball with it, right? Seems like these paddles are free for all Inn guests to use.

Hm~ You sound pretty confident about it. How about we go against each other then? Here’s a racket. You can get the first serve. Don’t worry about me being a beginner. Huh, this is pretty normal. I was most certain tha-...The ball would be sent flying like this. Was it too quick for your eyes to catch? But it entered your coat, so I suppose that’s a score to me? Ahaha, you look frustrated. You really do put your all into everything you do, huh. Winning or losing something like this has no effect on your future so you really could just tone it down a little, you know. Ah, stop right there. Let me take a guess as to what you’re going to say right now, shall I?

“At least put some effort into it if you’re doing it!” Am I right? Here’s the serve. So you want to clinch a win above all the effort you’re putting into this, yes? Even I can tell something as blatant as that, at least. That’s why I’m not slacking off on my end either.

Heh? Aiming for the corner, I see. But I won’t let something like this get past me! Now, what will you do? Heh? The loser has to comply with anything the winner says? Now, isn’t that tipping things way too into my favour? Does this mean I can do whatever I want to with you? Wait a minute, whatever I wa-...? Ah-

I’ve been had...Come on, that was really mean of you to use the opening I presented while in the middle of thought- I suppose not. It is a match after all so I suppose that’s just the strategy you chose to deploy against me. However, the same thing won’t work twice on me. Pulse, I’ve already read through your style. I now know how you react before you go in for the blow.

Sure. I’ll play along with you for as long as you want. Seeing such intense concentration on you’s not a bad sight. Plus, I’ll have to go all out if there’s a reward to reap at the end of this all! 

—— —— ≿————-　❈　————-≾ —— ——

Haa...That’s the first time I’ve ever eaten this much in my life. Yeah, I’ve always eaten the bare minimum amount to survive. Still, that was really delicious! I thoroughly tasted the food, of course. Right, right. There’s that egg that was cooked in the Hot Springs here, right? It’s the first time I’ve ever seen such a runny egg so I was really surprised. Huh? You can make it even back home? Could you make one next time then? I’m sure it’ll taste much better if you’re the one making it. Yup, it’s a promise then. So? The futons and all are already laid out so how about we do it? I don’t know how well it’ll go since it’s my first time too, but...I’ll try my best. Yeah, I will! 

So...we just have to throw these pillows at each other with all our might, yes? Huh? What’s with that face? Aren’t we going to have a pillow fight? Okay, I’ll put down the pillow first. Oh, I see. So that’s how it is! Pillow fights are something one does only on a study trip...I suppose throwing projectiles at each other with all your strength can get pretty dangerous. Other things...Oh, yes! How about aroma oil therapy? It’s normally done in pairs, right? ...You’re fine without…? I see...Well, if you say so then...Let’s sleep, I guess.

Hey? It’s still nine, there’s no way I can sleep. Besides, I won the table-tennis match we had, remember? Yup. I want to talk about a variety of things with you. Why are you laughing!? There’s nothing I’ll get out of it? It’s rewarding enough for me. Then...Where should I start…? If you had to choose between meat and fish, which would you prefer? What do you think was the most delicious among all the things we had for dinner today? Oh, maybe I should ask about what your favourite fruit is too? And is the person you li-- Huh? Oh...Is a question 101 session not something you do on a trip?

What, is this something only students do when they go on a trip together too? Aw, and here I thought up about lots of questions to ask too...It’s not me being clinical; I just want to know more about you. I want to come to like the things that you do and when it comes to the time where I want to do something for you, I wouldn’t even know where to start if I didn’t know what colour or thing you even like, don’t you think? Honestly speaking...I don’t have the confidence for this. I’m personally fine with living my life dubbed as the worst human in the world, but it’ll reflect badly on you too. Like...remember how you tugged me back by my coat back in Shinjuku? Ah...Are you embarrassed by the memory? Same here, it makes a buzzing feeling go through me when I do. 

As Kageyuki Shiraishi, I never once had a mission that made me fall in love with another. That’s why I’m trying my hardest not to hurt you or our relationship. I didn’t really understand you...But, it really tickled when you told me that you didn’t hate me for what I did.. It made me happy. From that time onwards...I……

...Are you asleep, by chance? And right when I was getting all emotional too. I suppose there’s no helping it. I suppose I should sleep too. Whoa-!? What, you were awake? We’ve got an early start tomorrow. That Wagashi Store you were looking to; it seems like the popular sweets sell out fast so there might not be any left if we’re late. That’s right, I searched it up. I’d much rather see you happy than disappointed. It’s fun talking to you like this as well, but I’ll really be troubled if you overslept tomorrow because we stayed up too late talking. So how about we both turn in? Am I okay with not doing anything? But there’s nothing else left to do? I mean, earlier you- Hey? Are you the type that can’t sleep unless you’re sleeping next to someone? I mean, that’s what you’re trying to tell me by moving over to my side, right? Ahh! But I don’t think I’ll like it all that much if you’re cosying up to other guys like this too! If possible, I’d want to be the only o-

Ah- I-I see. So you only do this with the person you love. Um, hey? Can I hug you…? 

Warm...It’s almost as if this isn’t real. My name, my feelings, my everything. It feels as if everything has been resetted and I’m living for yet another one of my goals. That was how I’ve been made to be. But yet, you...you called out my name. You’d come after me no matter how much I tried to  put distance between us and you wouldn’t give up even after how much I hurt you. Why...Would you go so far for someone like me… You’re really...such an idiot...There’s no saving you. But that’s what makes you, you. And...all so...precious.

I’m not crying! But, if I did...it’s your fault. You moved my empty heart and made it overflow. But, I guess that’s proof that I’m human.

It was really fun today. I’m sure tomorrow will be fun since I’ll be together with you. I think I’ll laugh lots, be entranced by you and then fall even harder. There are still a good load of things out there that I don’t know so I might cause you some problems when the time comes, but…

You’ll wait? No hesitation; what a speedy reply. Then, can I test out the limits of your words? Not just today and tomorrow, but even the days after that. I think that nothing will bring me more happiness than you staying by my side from now on and forever. But, I suppose I’ll have to study more for that to happen, don’t I? I’ll say it properly, one day. When I’m finally able to bring joy into your life with my own hands. So, won’t you wait a little more? Even if it’s just a little happy dream that I have in my head. I will definitely return to you. Now, maybe we should really sleep. I pray that I’ll wake up to you beside me. Good night and see you tomorrow.

Shiraishi Kageyuki, Kimura Ryouhei.

[twiistedgalaxies]

Genesis: Chapter 5: Evening Stroll

How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves. 

Or, alternatively: 

The origins of All for One and One for All.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

        Hisashi Shigaraki did not consider himself to be the type of individual to regularly lower himself to the level of petty thieves and thugs. He preferred to operate in the shadows, to provide plans and information while reaping their rewards. From a young age he’d dealt in favors, his compassion and intervention never free. His lips twitched. Yes, he’d always been good at bringing people together in the cold dark.

        But there was always an exception to his rules. All it took was one push for everything he’d created to come crumbling down, his livelihood built on sand and dust. His first error was tying his work to others, to the perceived invincibility of the adults around him.

        He’d never make that mistake again.

        The night was cold, cast into the pale yellow glow of the waxing moon. A single eye fixed upon a dark canvas. Hisashi threw his jacket onto the top of the chain link fence and climbed the rickety, rusty thing, careful not to attract too much attention to himself. The cameras were easy to evade. Concerned pedestrians were not.

        Brown oxford shoes landed on dark asphalt with a click, jacket seized and put back on with practiced ease. Hisashi glanced around the dark alleyway one last time. Empty. Good. 

        He rolled up his sleeves. Unfortunately, with the…. unprecedented nature of his parents' deaths there were some loose ends he needed to tie up. Loose ends that couldn't be addressed while slumbering under the watchful gaze of the police precinct. Hisashi strode down the alleyway, possessing a confidence unbecoming of most teenagers. He was not most teenagers. Always he'd done whatever he could to survive and support those under his wing. This would be no different.

        The alleyways were winding and twisting; a maze to those unaccustomed to LA’s numerous backstreets and barren waterways. He walked for ages, breathing in the crisp air like incense. It was here in the quiet darkness and hostile concrete jungle that Hisashi finally felt comfortable, the closest he has ever been to feeling, dare he say, peaceful.

        This would not last. He finally stepped out of the alleyways (between an      apartment complex and a run down 7-11) into a parking lot. There were few occupied parking spaces, the cars’ metallic sheen reflected the convenience store’s warm glow. Hisashi leaned against the telephone pole and reached into his pocket, fiddling with his closed switchblade. There was no such thing as too careful. He waited for a time, observing the land occupied solely by long distance travelers and painfully obvious drug deals. A huff. It seemed there was no one interesting here to spy upon tonight. For shame.

        “Hisashi,” a voice spoke up behind him. Young, only a few years his senior. “I heard about what happened, I’m surprised to find you out here so soon. I thought you were out of the game!”

        He gave a joyless smile and spun on his heel to face the newcomer, “Well, nothing short of death will keep me away from my work for long.”

        The newcomer hummed, “Same as usual I see, I suppose you’re here for information?”

        It took every ounce of willpower to keep from rolling his eyes, “Obviously.” The young man that stood before him, Matt Shield, was talented in the art of keeping his ear to the ground and occupying all the right places at all the right times. Hisashi had saved him a few years ago from getting mugged and beaten bloody by a band of roaming thugs, something that had grown all too common since the economic crash. The fact that Hisashi was the one in charge of said thugs? Well, what Matt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

        “I’m sure you’re aware I don’t work for free,” Matt continued, eyes gleaming and expectant. He took a sip from his cherry slushie.

        “Name your price,” Hisashi replied, tilting his palms to the sky in a gesture of reception.

        “Now that my friend,” he said, gesturing dramatically with his plastic cup, “depends fully on the information you want.”

        Hisashi felt a burning hot coal of irritation in his chest, he despised this song and dance, but it was a necessary evil, “What do you know of the people who broke into our apartment?”

        Matt tilted his head to the side, “Maybe a limited edition Nintendo Switch will jog my memory.”

        Hisashi pinched the bridge of his nose, unsurprised, “Fine. Any specifics?”

        “I want the Mario one,” Matt grinned, it was all sharp teeth, stained by his beverage, “There should be a used one in the GameStop six blocks west of here, across from the Ross.”

        “I’ll get it to you tonight, behind the car shop,” he responded. There were much better things he’d rather be doing with his time, but information was information.

        Matt reached out his hand, “A pleasure doing business with you.” Hisashi shook it, and instantly felt the urge to wipe his hand on his pants as if they had been contaminated with miasma. He refrained.

        They parted ways, Hisashi beginning his trek westward and Matt slinking back into whatever shadows he had spawned from. Of course he knew what GameStop Matt was referring to, he used to hang out at the bakery next door with his brother while studying for tests. Security there was a lot more lax than usual, the high concentration of stores meant there was a lot of foot traffic, something that shop owners thought was a deterrent.

        Not that they could afford to ramp up security anyways. There were two cameras, one facing the door and one facing the cash register, if he recalled correctly. Hisashi zipped up his jacket and covered his curly white hair with its hood. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a simple black cloth mask, a remnant from the pandemic. Access to precious cold air was cut off as he fastened the smothering fabric to his face. There was no need to hastily give away his identity after all, even if he'd just blend in with the ever-rising crime rates anyways. He was halfway to the store. Hands cold and reddened, he shoved them in his pockets for warmth. Truly, he was irritated that Matt had decided to give him another one of his tests, hadn’t he proven himself capable after all these years? Maybe it was to see if Hisashi had gone soft. If that was the case, he was sorely mistaken.

        The rest of the walk was quiet. He passed a few people on the sidewalk and the road was barren apart from the occasional car. In the distance, he spotted the car parts store. Idly, he wondered if Matt had already made his way there. The young man had always been able to navigate LA’s labyrinth better than most. Hisashi reached an intersection and jammed on the crosswalk button with his elbow.

        After a few beats of silence, a familiar robotic voice rang out, “Walk.” It was glitchy, like a record that had been scratched one too many times. He paced across the street, keeping his head down and eyes fixed on the asphalt. The streetlight cameras were not something he wanted to deal with tonight. His feet hit the other sidewalk and he breathed out a sigh. Only a few more blocks to go. Hisashi thought of his little brother, whose face was nuzzled into his pillow when he had left his side tonight. His brother may be oblivious, innocent to the nastiness of this world, but Hisashi was not. He saw the looks the younger kids in the orphanage shot Tomura when they thought he wasn’t looking. Hisashi could only hope that they would behave and leave him alone while he was out taking care of things. He’d hate to get his hands dirty to protect him again. Speaking of brats, the way Zach was snubbing Tomura was beyond infuriating. He dared to treat his brother so flagrantly? If Tomura wasn’t so fond of the child, he’d be actively hunting him down.

        But alas, he had much more trivial things to do. Hisashi stood behind the GameStop, being sure to obscure himself with the thorny bougainvillea bushes that lined the sidewalk. Unfortunately for him, almost every window and door of this establishment was covered in thick iron bars. The sole exception was the bathroom window, a tiny thing that was slightly opened to let out stuffy air. Taking the screen off the window would be no issue. Squeezing his six foot tall self through the small opening, however? This was going to prove to be a long night.

        Hisashi pulled out his switchblade and flicked it open. He poked around the edges of the screen for a bit until he found a side that gave more than the others. Carefully, he wedged the knife into the crevice and rocked it back and forth before the screen jerked inwards with a satisfying pop. He used his arms to push the screen inwards and winced as it fell to the tiled floor with a loud clatter. Quietly, he crawled through and let out a silent curse when he felt his shoulders get caught in the frame. He thanked his lucky stars that it was the dead of night, if someone walked up to see his ass hanging out of the window he’d never live it down.

        With a little rocking back and forth and quiet swearing he was able to finally squeeze through the narrow opening and slide into the bathroom. Said bathroom was small, roughly the size of a janitorial closet, and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Hisashi felt his nose scrunch up with disgust, fingerprints wouldn’t be the only reason he’d try not to touch anything. He used his coat sleeve to turn the doorknob and poked his head out to examine his surroundings. There seemed to be a small break room to his right, to his left was the rest of the store. It was empty, as he expected. He crept forward, careful to make his footfalls silent and to avoid the cameras. His eyes scanned the shelves, luckily he was already close to the Nintendo section in the back of the store. Ah, there it is. So much effort for such a simple thing. The limited edition Nintendo Switch sat on the top shelf, dust accumulated on the packaging due to neglect from the high price tag. There wasn’t much to distinguish it from the other consoles apart from it’s red controllers. He picked it up, examining the smooth packaging for chips that could set off alarms. Nothing. Perhaps the shop owners were just as desperate to be rid of it as Matt was to have it.

        Hisashi tucked the overpriced console under his right arm and returned from where he came. The Switch was delicately shoved through the window first, he went second, having to repeat the irritating process from moments earlier. He hastily headed towards the intersection, feeling his palms start to sweat. In his opinion, this part was the best. Adrenaline provided clarity that caffeine could never replace. His elbow slammed into the crosswalk button so hard that he winced. The seconds it took for the familiar monotone to ring out felt like hours. He hurried across the street, doing his best to look confident and self-assured. A niggle of anxiety churned in his gut. This was easy. Far too easy. He made it to the front of the car parts store. It was a hideous white and purple building wedged firmly into the street corner. He crept into the back alley behind the parking lot and leaned against the white brick wall, attempting to steady his heart rate.

        A few moments later, Matt’s head popped up over the wall opposite Hisashi, “You got the goods?” He absolutely did not jump and let out a yelp of surprise, and if any witnesses came forward to testify otherwise he’d be sure to dispatch them quickly. In the name of truth and integrity of course.

        “No, I thought I’d just hang out behind the ugliest building in LA for no reason,” He snarked, “Yes, I have the Switch.”

        Matt’s face lit up and he climbed into the alleyway, “Great! Just hand it over and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

        He passed over the console with a huff, glad to be rid of the clunky hindrance.

        “So,” Matt began, glancing around the alleyway conspiratorially, “word on the street is that the mob was doing some digging about your mom. A client of mine saw them breaking into the justice building to look through their records. Her name came up.”

        Hisashi raised an eyebrow at this. The mafia had grown in prominence since the start of the economic crisis. They often coordinated with local gangs and extorted businesses in exchange for protection from the chaos they were responsible for. Even Hisashi’s own group had to pay a small cut to operate in their territory. Overall, he thought it was an efficient system, it was much better than the turf wars that had riddled the city in the years before. Still, what the hell could they want with a random Japanese immigrant? Why would her records be in the courthouse?

        As if sensing his thoughts, Matt shrugged, “Don’t ask me, I know better than to get involved in their business. I like not being twelve leagues under the sea thank you a-very much.” He finished with a dramatic bow. Hisashi felt a tension headache forming. Unfortunately, Matt had always been like this. How the man hasn’t ended up in a shallow desert grave for being a pain in the ass was beyond him.

        “Okay,” he replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose again, “what do you know about my mother?”

        “That, buddy, is the question of the hour!” Hisashi must have been making some sort of face, because Matt laughed, “If you figure this out do tell me, I love a good story.”

        Silently, Hisashi vowed to himself to not be placed into a position where someone could withhold information and waste his time like this again. His lack of control over the situation was infuriating, and his hands itched for the feeling of cold steel. Hiding his right hand behind his back, he clenched his fist, careful not to draw blood. A smile curled on his face. Ringing in his ears that only seemed to grow louder with each aching, passing sec-

        Matt began shuffling down the alleyway, “Anyways, it’s rather late and I have other clients to attend to,” he glanced at Hisashi over his shoulder, batting his hand in the air like a kitten with yarn, “ya’ know how it is.”

        He was about to reply with a scathing remark when he felt his clunky burner phone buzz in his pocket. A frown. How on Earth did someone get this number? Sure, this used to be the main way he’d make deals, but he hasn’t made any in at least a year. He pulled out the metal brick of a device and flipped it open, eyes widening.

                                               Unknown Number

                                                       3:25am

[I need a favor.]

A/N: Hoo boy Hisashi is so long winded compared to his brother. I had something else in mind for this chapter but when I started writing his POV that went straight out the window. Obviously he's more immature than his canon-era counterpart, but that's because he's just a teenager and still needs to grow as a character. I was honestly dreading writing him, because his character is really hard to portray correctly, but I think I did okay. I have 4+ unrelated one-shots I'm working on on the side, I have no idea when those will be out but keep your eyes peeled. As usual, feel free to leave comments! It was actually a series of comments left by oneptxneo on AO3 that motivated me to get this chapter done (and finished early).

AO3

Next Chapter

[gothgirlmahi]

All That’s Best Chapter Six

Dark!Steve x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: non con, dub con

Steve had no idea how long he had been here. If he had to guess, it had been a week at least, probably more. The lack of sunlight or any other daily cues left him constantly wondering. He lived with no routine. Even your presence wasn’t guaranteed on any given day. But when you were there, you made sure he would never forget. There were times he would black out from the pain you inflicted on him and every time he passed out he went into the darkness knowing he deserved it. You didn’t even want information from him. You were humiliated and hurting from what he had done and wanted to hurt him back.

He was no sadist but the way you touched him drove him mad. Even the way your dug your knife across the hard planes of his chest had him yearning for you when you left. He knew he was a goner and sick for what he had done to you. But didn’t he deserve his happy ending after all he did? After all he gave for the world? And now here he was so absolutely in love with you that he could barely stand to lay here and banter with you and call you names he didn’t really mean. Sure he was angry, he was pissed.

You had set him up. Or maybe he had set himself up. Your mission, as he was starting to assume, was just to get close to him, start a relationship with him. His personal mission was to make you his in every way, make you his wife and the mother of his children because that was what he deserved.

Even in your torture of him, he still loved you. A stupid part of him held out hope that this was a dream or that somehow someway things would work out. He knew you were only human. Of course you wanted revenge. Steve had taken your freedom and your dignity in a matter of hours and expected obedience. Now he was reaping the rewards of his efforts.

When you finally did come back into the room, he was desperate for your presence. He didn’t care if it was one of your torture techniques or a way to mind break him, he would do anything just to be close to you. And sure, you were a HYDRA agent but how bad could you really be? Lots of people in HYDRA were just normal people that had been radicalized by their ideas. If you could be brainwashed one way, he was sure it could be undone. Even Bucky’s conditioning had been destroyed so he had hope for you. For both of you.

You straddled him as you usually did, smiling while you laid your body against him with your face inches from his.

“Guess what?” you asked, entirely too jovial for your surroundings. He didn’t humor you with a response which made you frown a bit, but you immediately recovered.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mind was going a million miles a second. This was exactly what he wanted. Not in these surroundings but that could be fixed. Steve wished he could hold you, just put his arms around you. How long had it been anyway? The first time he fucked you had to have been over a month before he got here and he wasn’t sure how long he had actually been in this facility. He was beaming with joy and you slapped him as hard as you could.

You clearly had the upper hand here along with being a practiced liar and seemingly a sleeper agent. He had to consider that even with how much you all had sex, you could be lying. Another mental torture technique.

“You’re a liar,” he said. He didn’t even believe himself.

“Do I have to explain how babies are made to you? You can’t possibly understand how much you’ve helped me. When you were holding me down and having your way with me, I was so upset. So shocked that the first avenger would do something like this. I hated you. Then I got back here and I started thinking. You might have just given me the opportunity of lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how they made you. No one alive does. But I don’t have to waste time reinventing the wheel when I have a live specimen in front of me,” you trailed off, staring him down.

“You want...to use this baby to—“

“Yup.”

“I won’t let my child be a HYDRA pawn.” Steve’s face hardened. You were serious. This was your pet project and you were so invested that you would put yourself up as an incubator. You weren’t just another HYDRA foot soldier, you really believed in their ideology and wanted to see your plans through. Even if it involved innocent children.

“This baby is the property of HYDRA. You are the property of HYDRA. Replace HYDRA with my name and you’re starting to get the picture. Imagine it. Organically made super soldiers. Sounds cool, right? Please drop that pouty face.”

“Why are you doing this? We could be happy together.”

“Oh, you’re right. We will be happy together. Just a few more preparations and we can go home, sweetheart.”

“Preparations?”

“Yup. You’ll see in a couple hours. Well, you won’t remember in a couple hours. Oops, that kind of gave away the secret, huh? Oh well. Rest up, champ. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

Your departure was unceremonious. You climbed off of him and out the door, slamming it behind you and letting Steve hear all the mechanical whirring it did when it closed. You were going to wipe him. Do what they did to Bucky. He didn’t know why or what information you were going to try to put in his head. You said that you all would be happy together and you would be going home. That sounded nice but he knew there was more.

He didn’t know exactly what your intentions were for the baby. Of course it was something fucked up because you had called the baby organically made like something you pick up at a farmers market, not a child. Not your child.

......

You weren’t necessarily enthused about what you had to do. Steve was a good man who had kind of lost it. That was easy to see but this wad your new mission, your new idea to preserve your ideology. Things had really fallen into place in your favor. You supposed since no one was having luck recreating the serum, you might as well take a crack at it.

You were setting up to wipe him alone. This particular base was nearly empty except for a few guards and some other researchers. No one else was qualified to do what you did. If Steve did manage to escape that room, you’d all probably be fucked. You had some contingency plans for him but you were only one person and he was faster than you. This had to go quickly and smoothly.

Steve really was his own downfall. He wanted privacy so none of his friends were sure where he lived. Except maybe Bucky, but you weren’t sure. Bucky might be a problem. But it would be easy enough to keep him distracted and away from the house while you all settled in. Besides, it wouldn’t even matter after Steve woke up. He’d be hopelessly dedicated to you and not even remember being here. You could infiltrate the Avengers from the top down. Feed him bits of propaganda, get him to join your cause. He would have no choice but to comply.

Just a little more time and your plan could unfold.

........

Steve was raging, thinking about the ramifications of this situation. If you changed his memories or took some away, there was no telling what he would do. From what he knew, HYDRA could completely change a person. Put new ideas in their head and convince them to do things.

He had seen it firsthand with his best friend. Although Bucky was recovering, things were still hard. There were still memories he didn’t have and things he was still getting used to. And that was after tons of rehab and therapy.

Steve’s prowess as a hero had been used to help people. To save lives and promote justice. Maybe he had done well, maybe he had failed at it, but he had tried. And now it all seemed pointless. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break the restraints he was in. He wasn’t strong enough and that broke him. Because he wasn’t strong enough, people might get hurt.

No.

Because he was selfish, people might get hurt. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t taken you. Without you being a distraction for him, he would have been more on his guard, waiting for any possible attack. But the attacker was there all along.

The last time he saw you was rough. You had dropped in not long ago, just to screw with him. Despite your claims to the contrary, you seemed happy to terrorize him. Torturing him with patterns drawn into his body with a knife. His healing factor seemed to make you more inclined to mark him up. When you left, Steve memorized the look in your eyes, the stance you took. You were clearly angry, vindictive even. Your departure was accompanied with the promise that you would be back soon to “fix” him.

He had to wonder if you knew about Bucky. Steve hadn’t made any mention of him while you were at his house, but considering you were a HYDRA agent, you probably knew about the Asset. If you were so willing to wipe Steve yourself, you had probably done this before on someone else. Maybe even Bucky. The thought of it made him sick.

The door opened. .......... “Steve, do you love me?” Your eyes were filled with determination, staring fiercely at the man you had recreated. His gaze bore into your own, completely devoted and submissive to your will.

“Of course I do,” he confirmed easily. You nodded.

“You’ll do anything for me?”

“Anything.”

“Would you die for me?”

“Of course.”

“Would you kill for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“There are people that want to keep us apart. They’re afraid of what we could do together. They’d take the baby.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

From behind your back, you produced his shield, all shiny and polished for him. A gun was held in your other hand. You handed both of them over to him. He took them, looking a bit perplexed, while he waited for you to continue.

“Good. I want you to kill everyone in this building except for me and you.”

He gave the briefest of nods before he was out the door.

There weren’t that many people in the base. HYDRA was a dying organization and you supposed you weren’t helping. It would be fine. This was your project, your life and your work. You didn’t want anyone else to jump in and take credit or try to tell you how to accomplish your goals.

The sounds of bullets pinging against walls picked up in the rooms around you. Screaming. Confusion. Chaos. Controlled chaos. Controlled by you. It wasn’t hard to imagine Steve as a killer. He was determined and detrimentally single minded regarding his goals. What he wanted, he got, but now his wants aligned with your own.

The whole affair only took a few minutes. Steve returned to you with fire in his eyes. Blood dripping off of his clothes and even on the gun carried. The stench of his murders permeated the air as he looked to you for guidance, for further instruction. His chest heaved with exertion and adrenaline nearly ran off of him in waves. A look further down and you recognized his killing spree had gotten him worked up in more than one way.

“Are they all gone?”

“Dead. Everyone,” he confirmed. Your hand came to caress his face and he leaned into your touch.

“You did so good for me.”

Hearing your approval drive him wild. So he would listen. Do whatever you pleased. Anything to make you happy, anything to make you look at him like you were now. He would kill a million more people if it would just make you smile at him.

“Let’s go home, honey,” you told him.

....

Taglist: @princessdancingonthesunshine @sllooney @americasass81 @shippers-heart @villanellevi @boinkybornes @imrachellester @xoxabs88xox @momc95

So...there’s a lot happening in this story. Thanks for all the feedback and love you guys give!

Masterlist // Chapter Seven

[lov3nerdstuff]

I Found

*Loki x reader*

Part: 1/8

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, slavery, sexual stuff

Summary: Loki finds himself stranded in Underworld, a kingdom hidden deep inside a desolate planet. In order to survive, he puts himself in the service of the tyrant king, who promises to give Loki his freedom back if he fulfills one simple task. Loki is to set out and bring the mad king his newest toy: You.

~A dangerous, forbidden love. Abduction. Slavery. Tortured conscience. A mad tyrant... Escape?~

Request: A song fic based on 'I found' by Amber Run, requested by @strawberrysandcream 💗 Hope no one minds that I'm making another mini series!

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

__________________________________

It had been weeks since Loki had last seen the sky. Weeks since he had felt the wind in his hair, chilling him in the most pleasant manner and tousling his raven locks even more than they had previously been. Weeks since he had felt the sun's warm rays on his skin, a calming comfort bearing the promise of a day yet to come. Weeks since he had crashed on this horrible planet, been stranded in this place that consisted only of ragged rock and stone. Weeks since he had been brought into the caves, the tunnels and catacombs winding through the entire planet like an anthill, the city underneath the surface of all that cold stone. Weeks since he had managed to gain the favor of the king, pledging his unyielding loyalty to yet another ruler. This was starting to become an infestation in his life, really… changing allegiance like others changed their garments.

Yet, Loki was a smart man, to say the least. He knew what it took to survive in a seemingly inescapable purgatory like this, hell, even profit off it if he went about it correctly. And as long as he sensed a personal advantage, he was all for it. At least until he would see a chance to escape this place without drawing any severe harm to himself.

Thus it was no surprise that after a few weeks of flattery, of strategically placed opportunities to prove himself valuable and of some minor felonies, Loki became a highly valued yet not fully trusted member of the royal court of Underworld. That's what they called their kingdom… Underworld. Not very creative, in Loki's eyes. But the king was a nuisance anyway, a brutal and cruel tyrant one shouldn't underestimate; Loki had learned that quite soon. When the king asked for something, or rather demanded for something to be done, one couldn't refuse. Not if they wanted to live to see another day.

And so it came the day – or night? – when Loki was summoned to the grand throne hall. Honestly, he had lost track of whether it was day or nighttime, for life down here went by different rules anyhow. As he strode through the many narrow, torch-lit tunnels leading from his assigned quarters (a rather small cave that at least was equipped with everything he deemed necessary) towards his place of summoning, he wondered what the king might want this time around. Someone to scratch his back maybe? Or to tell another story to keep him entertained while he dined? Loki snorted at his own thoughts.

Yes, life down here was rather easy for him. He had a bed and a fireplace against the insufferable cold of the eternally ongoing stone, food and fresh water in the plenty. But he knew that not everyone was as lucky. He had been outside of the area one could consider a palace a couple times, and he had returned deeply shaken. The people of Underworld suffered, very greatly so. Certainly, there were always some people in every kingdom who suffered, for that could hardly be prevented for a longer period of time. But here, it wasn't merely some people who suffered. It was THE people. Singular form.

Loki may be mostly concerned about himself and his own affairs and well-being, but he wasn't cruel. He still had a conscience, and a heart… even though he wished he didn't, for it made his life down here so much harder to bear. Yet, he knew that there was very little he could do about that and thus the knowledge that he was highly privileged weighed heavy on his conscience at all times. He just couldn't shake it off, couldn't become the cold and heartless man he pretended to be on the outside.

As he entered the large throne hall, he cringed internally. It was stuffed with prestige objects, valuables from other realms that might have excited him in a previous life, but that now only served to him the purpose of proving the king's vanity. Had Loki himself really wanted to be like that at some point…? That version of himself seemed more distant now than ever before.

"Loki, my friend!" The king's croaky tenor voice greeted him a moment later and Loki flashed his most charming, and most fake smile.

"You called for me, your majesty?" He replied politely, bowing ever so slightly while his stomach turned at the action.

"I did indeed. I need you to so something for me, god of trickery." The king started in his condescending, almost mocking manner that Loki had grown increasingly numb to. "It seems I have broken one of my toys. You are to fetch me a new one."

The words made Loki's blood freeze over and the bile rise in his throat. By the norns, why did it have to be him this time around? He had been able to close his eyes to this before, had been able to block it out of his mind… but now he couldn't any longer.

The truth came crashing down on him like a cave's contraction, crushing him between miles deep of stone. Loki felt sick to the stomach. The king's 'toys' were nothing he wanted to become affiliated with. Poor, innocent girls reaped from their families at any age the king saw fit. And now Loki would become the reaper, if he wished not to be tortured to death.

"You see…" The king continued to speak and drew Loki back out of his mind. "...this is a matter of trust. I trust you, Loki, to bring me the girl of my choice unharmed and untouched. If you accomplish your task you will be rewarded with certain… liberties, in this kingdom. Like the freedom to venture wherever you please. But if you fail to fulfill your task, I'm afraid you will breathe your last."

Loki flashed on of his brightest smiles once more, bowing yet again. "As you wish, your majesty." Then he turned around, trying to convince himself that he was NOT fleeing as he walked back towards the exit.

"And Loki?" The king called out to him again, upon which he turned around with as neutral an expression as he could manage. "My head of guards will see you to the destined girl's residence and detail some men for your protection."

Loki nodded once, then turned back around and his eyes fell upon the swarm of men waiting for him at the entrance. Surely they weren't detailed for his protection, but for his supervision indeed. Obviously he wasn't the first person assigned this task who considered choosing escape over obedience. Oh and Loki wanted to escape, now more than any time before. He needed to come up with a plan of how to get himself out of this mess, and off this planet. Underworld was no place for him to stay.

The first step always was to gather some more information. Thus he took the opportunity of the small army of guards leading him out of the palace and towards the city for some questions.

"May I ask, why does this… reaping require my presence?" He started off, hoping that some easier questions would loosen the tongues of the guards and make them warm up to him.

"He needs someone to take the blame." A guard in simple leather armor answered. "If the people have another face to hate, they won't know that we take the girls for the king. And he likes to play games."

"Charming." Loki sighed, frowning to himself. Of course, if someone to take the blame was needed it would always be him, no matter the realm he was in. How truly wonderful that at least some things never change. He rolled his eyes once he knew that no one was observing him too closely. "How often does he break his… toys?"

"Every couple weeks." Another guard shrugged. "Sometimes he does it on purpose though, when he grows bored of them. Or when they… fall ill."

A very much unwanted shiver ran down Loki's spine, but he kept his cool, knowing that he had to. But he wanted to know more, even if he wished he didn't have to. "What happens to them afterwards?"

"You don't want to know." The guard mumbled in return. "No one wants to know."

"And what happens once we… what are we doing again, officially? Once we reach the girl's home?"

"We escort her back to the palace."

"And then?" Loki inquired further, trying to squeeze as many questions into this unpleasant experience as possible.

"Then she won't be your concern anymore, and you'll be better off forgetting about her altogether. The king is very strict about that."

"Strict about what exactly?"

"Anyone who touches what is his, who lusts for what is his will not live to see any trial."

"A bit possessive, isn't it?" Loki commented sarcastically and one of the guards snorted, only to be nudged in the side by one of his fellows.

Loki sighed to himself. These men knew nothing of relevance and even less of importance.

Thus, all he could do was to let the guards lead him through the maze of tunnels and the differently sized caves, until they halted all of a sudden in a rather narrow tunnel. Loki's brows furrowing in an instant, every fiber in his body on high alert. The dim torchlight danced across the stone walls and created deep shadows in the corners of the tunnel, casting illusions on the rough surfaces.

"You will wait here." The guard in the front spoke to Loki, who only lifted his brows in question. "We get the girl, then we're going back."

Before Loki could complain as for why he had to come all the way here just to wait in the shadows now, half of the guards hurried on into the next part of the tunnel while the rest remained watching him. Now… he could easily overpower them, sure, but he also knew that he wouldn't find his way out of the maze of tunnels alone. He only knew his way around the palace, vaguely, not all the way to the surface of the planet. And being lost down here in the tunnels was probably the only thing worse than being a royal prisoner.

Suddenly a loud scream echoed through the damp and chilled air, reflecting off the stone walls like the light of the torches and creating an eerie sound that made the remaining guards jump. It would've made Loki jump too, had he not spent centuries training his body to react visibly only at his will. Yet, he found the deep silence that followed upon the loud noise to be more sinister than the bone-chilling scream had been in the first place. Nothing good ever came out of a silence as looming as the one surrounding him and his guards at the very moment.

Then, finally the silence was broken by approaching footsteps, and Loki was almost glad that the guards were coming back at last. The first thing he saw was the glow of their torches at the curve of the tunnel, then they became visible as they approached quickly. One guard was carrying a limp body in his arms and Loki's eyes fixed on it immediately. The closer they got, the better he could see the outlines of your small form pressed awkwardly against the guard's feeble body. The poor guy looked like his legs might give out under your additional weight any second and Loki rose an eyebrow at them once they joined his guards in the tunnel. What he did not expect however was that the young man carrying you came straight towards him with a relieved expression.

"You will carry her back." He pressed out, looking like he might just drop you any second now.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen." Loki replied with one of his signature breathy laughs reserved for internal moments of utter irritation, as he took a step backwards.

"Oh, you must. It's not up for discussion." Another guard said almost lightly.

"Why couldn't you just let her walk on her own legs?" Loki asked in what sounded more like snapping than he had intended. Luckily, the guards didn't seem to care much for his ways of conversing.

"They tend to make too much noise, and struggle more than necessary. It makes things easier to just knock them out for the way." The guard replied calmly. Loki had to realize that this must be a regular thing for them, a routine almost. The thought made his stomach drop and his head hurt.

"I'm going to drop her if you don't take her." The skimpy guard groaned and his legs started shaking dangerous, as did his arms.

"Fine, drop her then. Whatever. Not my problem." Loki commented coldly, looking at the guard in false indifference. He couldn't allow himself to care about anything but his goal of escaping as soon as possible. Everything, and everyone, else was a mere distraction to his own cause.

A few seconds later the guard's arms gave out indeed he dropped your body in an attempt to keep from breaking down himself. Loki watched you falling as if time had been slowed down just to torture him. Even in the dim light he could see your beautiful face, the dark bruise starting to form on your right cheekbone, the slightly parted lips… you looked so peaceful. So innocent. And for the first time in a decade his body didn't obey his reason as he caught you in his arms, only a broken second before you would have hit the ground. Time went back to moving at a normal speed, and he closed his eyes for a second as he stood upright once more, jaw clenching. Damn his conscience, and damn your stupid angelic face! This only made matters more complicated, and he hated it.

"Look who's not as tough as he always carries himself…" A guard to Loki's left laughed, only to find himself pressed against the wall of the tunnel a second later with a blade of pure ice pressed against his throat.

"Be careful who you speak to, and mindful of the ways in which they can kill you." Loki spoke in his most threatening voice as he tried to keep your body balanced on only one arm while holding the blade pressed against the man with the other. Yet, upon the beyond frightened face of the guard, he let the blade disappear again and hoisted you up higher against his chest with both arms. He wasn't particularly strong for a god, but in comparison to the people of Underworld he was Hercules himself, and thus he found no trouble at all in carrying you. What did trouble him a great deal on the other hand was not to stare down at you while they made their way back towards the palace. And not to let himself care.

"What's her name?" He finally couldn't resist asking, already blaming himself for the first signs of attachment forming in his mind. Gosh, he couldn't let himself get sucked into this.

"Y/n." One of the guards answered him. "She has been on the king's list for a very long time."

"And why has he waited until now to reap her? He does not seem like a man inclined to take pleasure in delayed gratification." Loki was beyond careful in wording this statement, for he knew that an insult to the king equalled a self-imposed death sentence.

"She's been hard to find and even harder to capture. Usually the girls he goes for aren't much of a challenge when it comes to their reaping. But this girl, Y/n… she's killed more guards than the beasts living in the caves below our feet!" The guard mumbled in disdain at the loss of his friends. Loki couldn't feel sympathy at all for the men who willingly stole innocent people away from their lives only for them to pleasure the mad tyrant on the throne. In his opinion, every single one of them deserved death more than most people he had killed himself in the past. But he couldn't be the one bringing them their end this time, for he needed to remain in the favor of the king a little while longer.

When he finally allowed himself to look at you, it left him wondering how a person could look so innocent while obviously being so lethal. Somehow, he felt a sense of pride in that, and a sense of very faint relief at the knowledge that you were a fighter. Maybe you could survive becoming the king's new plaything. He felt sick yet again at the thought, and even more so now that he was the one carrying you towards your doom. But he needed the reward he would get for accomplishing this task, he needed the freedom to roam the tunnels of Underworld to find a way to the surface. Maybe he could offer to take you along with him on his escape, if you lived to see that day. The prospect didn't make him feel any better. What he was doing here was wrong, very wrong indeed, and he was well aware of that.

"How did you knock her out?" He heard himself asking as his eyes remained fixed on the gentle curve of your jaw, the bruises and cuts, the dried blood just below your bottom lip.

"Poison." One man answered easily enough and Loki found himself shivering yet again. "So she doesn't run even when she wakes up. The only possible antidote is safely stored in the palace."

"Didn't you mean to say so that I don't run, with her?" Loki snapped before he could keep his mouth shut. How could these people do such cruel things with a smile on their face? Prior to his stay in Underworld Loki had believed himself to be a cruel man… oh how wrong he had been.

Since running with you wasn't an option, because of the poison, and neither was running without you, because of the tunnels, Loki found himself walking all the way back to the palace with you in his arms. He hoped dearly that he could just drop you off somewhere and forget about you for good, but if he was honest with himself, he knew that he wouldn't be able to forget. Not after spending forty minutes carrying you to the point of his arms going numb, after using his own precious magic and energy to keep you from shivering all too badly, after shielding you from the hungry gazes of the guards. Honestly, Loki didn't know why he was doing any of this… developing a weird sense of protectiveness over you only to hand you over like prey the next moment.

Finally, once they reached the gates of the palace, he realized that to him, you were a warning sign. Reminding him that this place was despicable, that he needed to flee as soon as possible, that the king was not to be messed with. Reminding him that if fate had played him any differently, it could very well be him on the throne. A mad tyrant caught up in an illusion and unaware of what he was doing to the people around him. And for once Loki found himself glad that he still had a conscience, still head a heart. Otherwise he would not be any better than the people bringing your doom upon you. Yet, if his conscience kept talking sense to him, he knew that he would lose his mind. Over you.

______________________________

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[oflovetruth]

Sehun’s first love,

A semblance of hope had washed over the otherwise hopeless romantic. The taste of bitter espresso taking over his senses, and his bleary vision had barely made up his surroundings. Blinking out his sleepiness, he forced himself to grab whatever bits of food that he had from last night. Takeout. Ah. Great. No wonder, he cannot seem to achieve the body of his dreams. Hand tapping on the centre of his stomach, and blindly blaming himself for wasting such effort on junk food. He grabbed the folded box, and he had unraveled the cold noodles that lied inside. Groaning, quietly, to himself, he threw the soggy noodles into a microwave safe bowl, and threw it inside to heat. Whilst he would wait for it, he had hurried his way to change out of his sleeping attire; which consisted of a thin shirt and sweats.. topped with Bambi socks. Not the most intimidating person to consider. Rummaging through his closet, eyes staring daggers for something new to wear, and he had hit jackpot. A pair of dress pants topped with a button down? Ah, what else is possible? He took the clothing, and laid it first on the bed. Swiftly yet cautiously as to not ruin the recently ironed shirt, he had changed into it, and he could hear the ringing of his microwave—muffled by the subtle shut of his bedroom door. Jumping up and down, trying to shovel his way into it. Has he gained weight? He does not particularly remember the last he had weighed himself. Hurrying his way to eat his makeshift breakfast, and nearly burning his tongue in the process. He will definitely buy himself on the way back from campus. Ah. Yes. His social life had barely lived up to the expectations of his parents. His stomach had felt sick, and he was certain it was more so his worries than the hours old food. At last, taking a leap onto changing his socks, and switching them with a new pair of plain ones to match his mundane outfit. Eyeing himself in the mirror, he fixed the few unorthodox strands of hair back into place. Grabbing his bag from the floor, he had already fixed his schedule into it, and he smiled upon the start of a new day. Luckily, his apartment had only been a few minutes walk from campus, and never had to worry too much about sleeping in; he had always been an early bird. Smelling the fresh scent of rain mixed with the city fumes—it was quite the odd mixture, although Sehun was quite fond of it. It reminded him of home, and nothing brings him great happiness than home. Seeing familiar faces as he had gotten closer to campus, he could almost pick up on a few gossips, and he was not too fond of that. He hated it when people would speak behind others’ back, and have great pleasure in doing so. Perhaps, it is the mere fact of majoring in Psychology that opened up his eyes to the reality of the human mind, and how crooked it can be—in the search of endorphins. He would hear the cacophony only accumulate as his way towards the university buildings lessened. The incessant gossiping had only irked him, at this point. In the midst of his wavering state, he could pick up a familiar face in the distance, and his former stoic face began to slowly merge up into a warm smile. Jongin. His best friend. What a sight for sore eyes, no? He would often pretend to duck his head down, and scan the newsfeed that clogged up his phone’s screen. His eyes would dilate upon the numerous scholars that piled up, and his excitement to devour all the new information and knowledge; his heart could only handle so much—bump. He had accidentally bumped himself against his friend, instead of actually saying hello. A giggle had erupted out of the gentle and soothing one. “My bad!” He spoke, his hand patting over his friend’s chest, and he locked eyes with him for a brief second. “You need to give your eyes a bit of a break...I’m surprised you don’t need glasses yes, Tokki..” His friend voiced with concern, ushering for him to follow. Sehun nodded his head ever so slowly; humming in response before his excitement piled up before his very eyes. “Well! You see.. I just cannot seem to ignore the new scholars I could use in order to build the perfect research,” He mused, his tongue tapping the roof of his mouth, and it sure was reminiscent of that black coffee from earlier. “You know? I often think you’re too dedicated that you just lost your energy..” His friend voiced with concern, his brows furrowed, and his lip jutted out in a subtle pout. Sehun could see where he had been voicing those concerns, and he heedlessly brushed it off as something trivial. “I am on top of everything, nonetheless,” He said with a bold tone—his eyes squinting into a soft smile. “Anyway, I will see you after class!” He quietly spoke, his hands waving towards him friend—nearly dropping his book, and he squeaked. Sighing at himself; due to his idiosyncratic behaviour. Walking up the stairs, preferably, he enjoyed the architecture that was put into this school. It was quite old, which he liked, and it reminded him of numerous books he had read about this particular university. It feels utterly rewarding to be inside of it. Staring at his phone, he was making his way to his ethics class. He did not particularly believe this class to be hard, albeit the material was a lot to remember. The ninety minutes period had passed quicker than expected. Sehun was quite intrigued by how fixated and attentive, he was. Jotting down notes, inquiring his curiosities and doubts, and thanking his lecturer before leaving the class hall. He was the embodiment of a slacker’s nightmare. He did not bother, though. He was feeling the brink of hunger eat at him; it was not a pleasant feeling. Surely, he would hold his bag over the centre of his stomach—trying to compensate for the pain that lingered a little further than anticipated. Well, that is not precisely the perfect way to phrase it. “Something... easy to digest and quick..” His mind had immediately rushed to the convenience store just outside of campus. Right, right. He could never forget the late nights, whenever he would visit the shop, and the lady would recognise his face. He was a regular, if one had to be precise. That was the initial plan after his class; although he was fast-walking his way down the hall. Making a beeline for the exit of the building—till his eyes had captured a sight he was not expecting. It is almost as if time was still. It stopped. His eyes were once slanted downwards due to his lethargic state, yet now they grew wider—the background had became a blur. She became the centre of his attention; the cynosure. Her beauty is immaculate. She had a smile that stretched across her angelic features, and his heart nearly drummed out his lungs out of his rib cage. He must have looked absolutely insane. No, no, he probably is lost. He could not take his eyes off her. The way she had headed her way towards the exit, and the way her digits held onto the hem of her translucent sleeves; chiffon. The gentle colour of warmth, the clementine perfume—the saccharine sense of it all. Sehun had to make a move, and he had to make it quick.

Little did he know that angel was nothing but the nightmarish devil; awaiting the very purity of men to come forth, and reap them off all their innocence. His perceptions were meddling—they were messy. His eyes felt as if they were being gorged out with a frigid spoon. He could feel his head pounding, his body trembling with tremors ceasing to pause, and his voice had been caught in his throat. There she was. Stood high. A lavish dress that she draped over her curvaceous figure, and a wine-red lipstick encapsulated her very full lips. Sehun could not take his eyes off her. She was his, yet he felt as if she owned him. Sitting upright, he rubbed his eyes, and as he was about to inquire the woman about her sleep—she had placed the tip of her index finger over his lips. “Shh..” Her honeyed voice would speak; his heart shaken with the urge to only obey her. Her hands would traverse over his physique, his eyes following her, and once clothed—now bare. He felt as if it was moving far too quickly for his liking. “No—Aerinnie... not now,” He would say with an apologetic smile spread across his face. “I feel tired, yeah?” He felt as if he had to surge his excuses out. She was a fine lady, there was no denying that. All it took was a scintilla of doubt to wash over their relationship, and cause it to lose its once stable foundation. Once she would stay over, now he could barely catch her phone not busy. It felt odd. It felt wrong. He could not force himself to divulge into her business, although he felt that it is only fair that he knew—he was not asking for much, right? Soon, Sehun’s doubts began to accumulate by the second, and understandably, they were welcomed with facts that broke his heart atom by atom. He had never seen the angel claw at his skin, scream to his face, and eye him with disdain in her heart. It did not feel right. This is not the woman he had fallen for. Something must be wrong.. not till he had been faced with the mere factor; she voiced it. It took all of him to not cry on the spot. Three months into the honeymoon phase, the true colours began to finally appear—display itself before the man. Sehun had an idea of something such as this to happen, yet he did not expect it too soon. She would look at him across the table, boredom risen in her expressions, and Sehun tried his best to build any sort of excitement into the conversation. She felt far away. She would take a sip of her wine before he could finish his sentences. Futile. He almost felt as if he was not supposed to be here, and that tore at his heartstrings. The date felt mundane. Idle. Wrong. He had never eaten as quickly as he did, and neither had he paid as quickly as he did. Watching her stand, and hurry towards the exit. Her heels cracking down the marble floors of the - ridiculously - expensive restaurant that he had reserved for the both of them; a failure. He had to step up his pace in order to keep up with her, and he had to finally confront her. It felt as if he was talking to a wall. Where was the love that she had showed him? Was it all a plan to simply come for him? Sehun had a lot rushing through his mind, his lips momentarily quivering, and he stood before the woman who had taken his heart... and clearly, had the black intent of stomping on it with her stilettos; tearing it apart with a cold smile across her face. “Sehunnie~” She would say, her hands finding solace onto the man’s shoulders, and her eyes—they batted their lashes—lips morphed into a smile that Sehun could not recognise. Her voice felt as if the entire world had stopped, whenever she would speak. Sehun, only gulped, and looked back at the ethereal woman. “You’re a smart man... you know?” She would muse. Hands taking business in playing with his collar—ever the hairs at the back of his head. Sehun reacted to it all. He was ridden with anxiety, and this had only increased it; she knew. “But you’re so credulous,” She would shove at the fabric, nearly ruining the ironed suit. Causing Sehun to gasp in reciprocal—unbeknownst to him, just how much he would resent this holy ground they stood before. “You make me want to hit you—you’re so fuckin lame,” Her tone was not honeyed, anymore. Honey had turned into poison. Sehun could barely keep his breathing in a stable state; labouring. “I don’t fucking love you, did you really for that, petit prince~?” The woman said; eyes full of malice. Sehun, during this, could barely manoeuvre his body. He felt as if he was caught in her web, and there was no escape—to be exact—she gave him no escape. “I only want you for your dick. You’re nothing to me,” She would cackle between her words, causing eavesdropping people to chuckle under their breaths; humiliating the man before her. “You—you’re messing with me,” Sehun managed to crack out. He could feel the heartstrings being pulled at every corner of his body. It cannot be right. She must have drank too much. “Ah~ right, right.. I do love you.” She would press a chaste kiss to his lips. It felt bitter. It felt wrong. Sehun hardly managed to reciprocate the kiss; yet he did. Walking back home with her had felt odd. Unheard of. Raw. Wrong. It all felt too wrong.. almost as if there was truth to that joke. It left him ruminating during that night. He could not sleep properly, and his eyes only bared the tiredness of the sleep deprived state; coffee could not hinder him from nearly collapsing on the hard floors of the classroom hall. What a shame. He had seen her face during class. She looked peaceful, but far too occupied with her phone.. she was... smiling. She had not shown that smile to him in quite awhile—two months—and it was only fair to contemplate, right? Luxurious gifts, her hair tied with high end fashion houses, and her attire had began to completely differ from before. His angel was not his angel, anymore. Sehun felt a bile form in his throat, and it felt as if it was tightening. He knew it was only purely caused by his mental state, but he could not stomach seeing her act so differently—hostile—to him; yet watch others with the same smile that she used to give him. What did he do wrong? He had been with her during her pregnancy scare—before they had dated—he had been there with her, when her parents quarrelled about whom should stay in their place. He had always been that ear that listened, yet he was oscillating with his emotions trying to rationalise the entirety of this situation. Had he been short on something? He had always sent her long messages about how much he appreciates her, and she would only send him a heart. It did hurt—seeing his efforts disappear—and hers nonexistent. Trying to walk his way towards her, nevertheless she had disappeared like a ghost. It slowly had became the typical for him. He had pulled himself away from his excessive emotional messages, his attempts at calling her to ensure that she was okay, and finally, he had stopped looking for her in the crowd of students in the halls—it made no sense. Why search for somebody that could not even bat an eye your direction? Their dates had started to get more boring and fruitless. Their meetings at his place had been nothing but watching a movie—with her texting on her phone—and him just forcing a smile to look at her. When will this nightmare end? When will she stop hiding away from him? What had happened? Despite her cold behaviour, Sehun had still understood. He did not want to hurt her more than she was already hurting.. right? He was too selfless for his own well being. Had he not realised how she had always been disappearing for a few days, and only coming to him to kiss and make out? As far things go, that was as far as Sehun could go. Intimacy was something he considered sacred. Intense. Emotional. He could not perform any act, when she had displayed such detachment from him. It did not feel right, and he most certainly was not going to allow her to do anything. Taking a sip from his mug, he watched as she smiled down on her phone. She was always full of euphoria with that device in her hands, although so sullen and sulky whenever it was away. Was he that boring? He was beginning to question himself; nothing will fancy his thoughts other than a little music. Playing a precise track on his vinyl player; smiling as the music filled the room, and created a less tense atmosphere. He jumped his way beside her, his arms hugging around her waist, and his chin perched over her collarbones. For once, she had laughed due to his actions, and he felt as if he had won the world—at that current moment—till it came tumbling down the very second it had risen. His chest had felt so heavy. He had briefly captured a sight of whom she was texting, and his heart began to tear itself apart. He tried to pretend he did not see it.. he tried.. He could not stomach it. No. His stomach felt far too sick. Getting off the couch, he had to hurry his way to the bathroom, and the sounds of his throat coaxing the bile of his disgust to - at last - leave his body in the form of nothing but vomit. His eyes soaked with tears, his body shuddered with the force, and he had felt absolutely dizzy. Flushing the toilet, he was shrouded with his own countless fears circling around him. As if he was a joke.

As if he was nothing. As if she had won, and broke his heart. He was shocked to see her still on the couch, and did not even lift a muscle to come check on him. He could not bear it, anymore. This had gotten out of control, and Sehun needed to set the record straight. He felt a sense of power yet weakness merged into one as he slammed his hands on the table. He thought the sound was loud, thus jumping himself. The woman had only - barely - turned her eyes his direction. Boredom encasing her features, and he wanted to be swallowed whole by the earth. “Aerin,” He spoke, a hoarse voice, and he surely looked pitiful. Aerin, on the other hand, did not dare to even react with a semblance of sympathy. “What?” She inquired; voice low as if she was irked to be called during her fun hours with whomever she was texting. Sehun could not keep this relationship going, if he had do to all the work to keep it stable. “What are you doing—? Why don’t you ever smile at me, anymore? What have I ever done to cause you so much harm?” Sehun’s words had rued the day they spoke. The lady opposing him had sat upright, and clasped her hands together. Crossing her legs, and staring at him with her sharp eyes. She knew how to flip him under her will, and she was aware of it. “What are you talking about, Sehunnie~?” “When have I ever changed?” “What do you mean like before?” She had cornered him with questions that had him doubting, if he should have ever started this conversation with her. She knew how to play her cards, and she played them right. She would stand up, propel to him, and that prompted that same vicious smile during that date night. He knew what this had meant, and her hands had only reached to his throat. Her long nails grazing over his jugular vein. Words so cold that they left him shivering. “Would you die for me?” She would whisper, beside the shell of his ear. Straddling his thighs, she sat, and she proceeded to reprimand him for ever opening his mouth. “You.. you don’t get it,” Sehun uttered out with lips shut tight by a kiss so violent. He had pushed her off him with an instinctive reaction. His eyes shooting wide—hurrying towards her, and apologising, if he had hurt her. His shove was not violent, yet he was more concerned about her than the well of himself. “I’m fine, fucker,” She cursed out. Her anger had began to increment, and Sehun was growing afraid. He had not known what to do, stepping aside—back—he felt weak. “You’re so fucking pathetic. How do you even live life like this?” Sehun shuddered. He was not weak. He was weak for her. He allowed himself to open his heart for her, but— “in case your stupid eyes didn’t notice, yes, I’m having a fucking affair since you won’t ever fuck me,” There it was. His heart had been stabbed. Penetrated. Protruding blood. Tears trickling down his visage, and the woman had only smiled wider. Walking towards him till he was pressed against the wall. “You’re not a real man. You don’t know how to treat a lady right, either~I bet you’re fucking gay.” Was the last thing before she had left him in his apartment. Hurt. Lost. Confused. Emotional turmoil. The emptied bottles of various alcohols had spread across the coffee table, and Sehun knew better than to cope with substances. He did not know what to do. He could not call his best friend. He felt absolutely useless, and nothing had made sense to him. Was he truly less of a man for not wanting to make love so quickly into a relationship? He was doubting his well state—he had to call Jongin, before he succumb to worse tactics of dealing with the heartbreak. “Hello?” A kind voice came through the speakers of his phone. Sehun could not reply. He could barely see anything, without it doubling in size or silhouette. His head pounded, he stenches of alcohol, and his hair was a mess that could not be tamed. “Hello?!” The voice had grown concern. Jongin had been clearly affected by the silence coming from Sehun’s end, and whatever it is—there was a shuffling sound on Jongin’s end. Sehun could not tell what it was. “I’m coming over, Tokki. Stay still.” The call had ended. Sehun sunk himself against the counter, and his knees grew wobbly. He could barely stand, and he was ruminating over what Aerin said. She is openly saying that she was cheating on him. Openly. She had no heart or care for how he would react about it. He saw that text that mocked his inexperience, and how his kisses must have been like kissing a wall. Those comments have hurt a little more than they should. Every time that he remembers her face when she said that, he would want to down another glass—but he was stopped by the sound of the door unlocking. It must be Jongin. It must be the only person that could understand how he had felt—without peer pressuring him into anything. Almost as if light had cascaded itself down into his rather dark and grim status. Sehun’s eyes were heavy, the doubling of Jongin’s figure had confused him, and he had to lean his body against the counters—trying to balance himself. “Sehun!” A voice called out. It did not feel close. It felt far. Was he perceiving the world a little too late? What was happening to him? “Y..Yes,” He managed to say with tears shuffling down his already damp face—a touch had supported his body. His eyes blinking out the blur, and his breath stenches of alcohol. He hated how pathetic and pitiful he must have looked. “Here, here,” The same voice had said; more clear now with the close proximity. Sehun tried to clear his conscience, yet it only whispered to him about the lost fragments of his love for that woman. The woman who revealed her filthy behaviours, yet had the very same audacity to leave him. He did not understand—but he was drunk. Too drunk to make sense of the world. “Jongin..?” Sehun quietly said. His body now laid down on the couch, his hand reaching to gently caress the man’s face—staring at him—he could not make up his features. His eyes were squinted and puffy—bloodshot—he swallowed thickly. “I.. I feel like.. I died...and..” He could not continue. The pounding headache had completely taken over him. Jongin had frowned. It was not easy to see Sehun like this. Getting off the edge of the couch, he had fished for a glass to pour water into. Perhaps, that could clear the man’s mind a little bit more. “Take your time, love... it will be okay,” Jongin said with a serious tone cowering his usual kind one into the backseat. Sehun’s hand had laid over his temple; feeling the sweat form tremendously. He only felt weaker. Prone to breakage, and slowly accepting that fact; the quicker he would recover from this pain. Jongin did not want to fall victim to his anger. He was aware of how much it does take to break Sehun like this. What had happened? He was growing so insanely worried, and his anger fuelled up his desire to break something—but he resisted. Placing the glass down on the coffee table, he slipped his hand under Sehun’s nape, and slowly eased him to sit up. Smiling briefly, trying to bring some warmth into the man’s stoic expression—hollow eyes—even. “Here. Drink some water, I will keep your pill by your bed, okay? I am staying over,” Jongin said as he handed Sehun the glass of water, and did not let go of it; the tremors that rushed through Sehun’s body were quite violent. Sehun’s eyes would stare back at the man’s, his body reacting to the cold glass in a frenzy—and he was glad that Jongin had kept his grip on the glass. Inhaling through his nose, he slowly began to take a sip—it turned into a gulp—and he was chugging it down in no less than a nanosecond. Feeling that rush of cold liquid rush through his body, and give him a new sense of refreshment—Sehun was certain that he needed that a little more than anything. “Thank you,” He endeavoured a small smile towards his friend, his hand reaching to pat on his shoulders, and he shortly sunk into the couch. How did home feel so suffocating? Why did he feel as if he did not belong, here—? He lived here. It did not feel real to him. Being pulled out of his daze, he did not particularly appreciate it. “Sehun. What happened? You called me, and said absolutely nothing,” Jongin’s voice had broken the unsettling silence between the pair, and Sehun nearly was startled into a flinch—yet he remained still. Almost as if his body could not react, anymore. He felt as if was not here—anymore. “She.. cheated,” The taste of alcohol has enticed the nausea into his body, once more, and he could not handle it. “She ... voluntarily did it, unapologetically... she ..” It became too real. It was not a stupid nightmare, anymore. It was reality, and his friend deserved to know. “She.. left me after patronising me about it..” His throat dried up. He would try to fiddle with the empty glass, and his eyes would wander. He did not want to think about this, yet thinking about it is all that he did. Lost in a paradox, and caught in a dilemma. He loves her. Well, he must learn to unlove her. He cannot love somebody who had strife in their heart. “I.. I cannot—“ Tears sprout out of his ducts, and they felt so painful. He cried so much that his eyes could - languidly - handle the torment it brought to them. “Sehun—take your time, I’m listening,” Jongin had seated himself beside him. Scooting closer, and pulling his body against him. His palms would rub the length of his spine, and his eyes would watch his friend’s reactions. Jongin had so much hate in his heart for Sehun’s girlfriend, yet he was halted in his thoughts by Sehun’s words.

“I cannot hate her,” He uttered. “She was good to me.. for the most of it, I think..” He was perplexed. “She ... she was mine at the wrong time. I wanted her heart.. her deepest secrets... what makes her laugh.. what she liked to eat the most,” He knew it all. He even knew what time of the day is her favourite, yet she remembered nothing about him. “Yet she only loved me for my body—resorting me to nothing. Nothing but flesh and bones. Nothing but a walking reminder that she is dating a decently looking guy, and that breaks me. I loved her for her, but she loved what I could not offer,” Sehun tried to hold back, but Jongin encouraged him to let it all out. “And she can not afford to talk to me, anymore. It’s final.” And with that, Sehun had closed off the windows to his heart. A strong, concrete, thick wall had gathered around his heart in his slumber, and he knew what to do in the morning. Submerged under the thick waters of anxiety and blinded by love, he had forgotten how the pull was drowning him, further. He was magnetised by her. She was a force. She took him. Her effect on him was astronomical. She was the pinnacle of perfection, and immaculate heart—but things do not prove to be what they are. Perfection is not... perfect. Flaws brought him to open his eyes. Catharsis had found its way to him. He had cleansed himself off her pain. No. He was not weak for being more careful. No. He is not weak for closing the doors of love on the potential lovers in the near future—he wanted to be ready. Clawing their way into his reveries, he was lost. Unable to fixate himself during the lectures, and he caught a sight of her. A sickening smile on her face, and her voice absolutely deafening; heedless, he was longing for one more conversation. He noticed her fleeing, he noticed the fleeting glances, and he noticed the notifications on his phone going off. As if she had thought that she could pull onto his heartstrings, and leave with closure. Sehun had been always a compassionate man, and he would not resort to anything that could - possibly - hurt another. There was no footing to be lost. He stood high, before her, his energy utterly different than the night before. “Ms. Go,” The dapper one had said. His voice holding a hefty, potent, and confident flair to it. Understandably, Aerin was taken off guard. Her doe eyes widening, and she chewed on the tips of her acrylic nails—meekly, she answered. “Yes..?” Oh, how the tables have turned. Sehun did not entertain the conversation too much. He wanted it - over - the second it had commenced. “It is over,” He said. Watching as she swiftly responded. “As if that was not obvious, fucker,” Trying to regain her status as the superior in the conversation—but it was in vain. Sehun’s visage remained stoic. Cold. Almost as if all the light that was erupting onto his moonlit skin had dissipated into nothingness. “Keep your filthy language, I will not participate in that low level,” The man riposted. His eyes falling to the necklace that he had bought her, her donned in it, and he grew that bitter taste on his tongue. Not now. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, virgin—what the fuck do you want from me?” The lady had grew angrier by the second. Sehun’s reactions remained stagnant. “I want you to understand that I loved you for you. I never cared about your social status, your looks, or your actions—I never wanted it to be superficial. I wanted to love every inch of you, yet you tore every inch of me,” Sehun’s words had appeared to have had an effect on her; resulting in her silence. “I thought of our future together—I loved you. I wanted to go on more dates, I wanted to know more about you—yet you suddenly lost all your interest in me the very moment I had rejected you; that night you stayed over,” Sehun stepped a little closer, his towering height had finally inflicted its effect. “And I accepted that. I thought... maybe, she needed more time to adjust to me not being very comfortable with intimacy so quickly—you said how much you loved my mind, but your hands have always been adjacent to my hips—you do not even know what my favourite drink is, you do not even know what my last name is—do you?” Aerin looked puzzled. The Sehun before her was not the same subservient man that she used to stomp on. She had tried numerous tactics to guilt him, yet he had never been this way. She emotionally blackened him. He had completely changed, and she was scared. All it took was infidelity? Her cherubic lips were tucked into her mouth. She chewed, chewed, and chewed. Slowly, blood seeped out, and she could not speak. “Look.. what you made me do..” His former lover had said; rummaging for her tissues, and trying to escape this confrontation. Sehun did not let her. She needed to hear it all. Sehun needed her to know exactly what damages she had caused, and he quickly said. “I made you do nothing,” He quickly responded. His eyes pitying the red that matched her already smudged lipstick. “What about the time you shoved me? What about the time you emotionally blackmailed me in order to bruise your skin..? Thinking that I was too weak to give you hickeys.. thinking I was nothing, if I did not perform any carnal activities with you—does it not count?” She shook her head—she could not accept the fact that she had hurt him. She did it on purpose, yet she could not deal with not being the victim. “You made me bleed! Look at my lips!” Sehun’s eyes, for the first time, they rolled to the back of his skull. “Aerin. Thank you for being the reason of the birth of my resilience. Farewell.” Sehun had turned on his heel, and ignored the grip that tightened onto the sleeve of his suit jacket. Not looking back. He continued forward, and his eyes never scanned that beautiful face with those doe eyes, ever again. Love has been a topic long forgotten since that day. He had dreamt of the idea of love, but the mere mention of succumbing himself into the abyss of being controlled, manipulated, and questioning his worth did not seem appealing. He wanted to ready himself for the one. For the one that will light fire in his heart, and for the one that would hold him tight. Let him see what it truly felt like for his efforts to be reciprocated. Love is blind—and his heart desired for that connection. That experience had taught Sehun a lot. He never resorted to alcohol ever again. He had learnt to keep himself positive, and to reconcile his emotions better. He had wanted to give the world kindness, and offer the world a hand that will hold. An ear that listens, and a heart that understood. Taking the path to become a therapist appeared immaculate, and the insatiable appetite for knowledge had proceeded his studies. Thank you, Go Aerin... I, now, understand myself better.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010: 35 - 31

35. KEiiNO - “Spirit in the sky” Norway 2019

During the preshow I posited that "Spearwhil”  would be the Rasmussen but as it turned out-

I HEAR YOU CALLING ME AT NIGHT

No, Tom NOT NOW!!! I’m in the middle of my sentence. 🙄 Wait your turn Anyway, it turned out that ‘the Rasmussen’ really ought to be called ‘the KEiiNO’. Observe this Michal-esque rise up the scoreboard:

OutSzpak’ing Spzak. 😍 Let’s be honest though, it was-

I HEAR YOU CALLING ME AT NI-

- COMPLETELY DESERVED TOO.  Fred was especially great, who delivered EPIC yoik solo that I am sure won KEiiNO the televote on the spot. 😍

This particularly pleases me because I was worried Tom & Alexandra (who are both very good performers) would take the spotlight away from Fred, but no did the weakest link pre-show turned not only turn out to be the strongest one, but he was arguable the single strongest performer of finale night. SO PROUD OF THEM ANGELS. 😍 Let us all sing along

*cough* I said, “let us all sing along”

... 

(k Tom, now is ur cue)

I HEAR YOU CALLING ME AT NIIIIIGHT

THE NORTHERN LIGHTS ARE DANCING

HÅ LA HEI LOI LÅ

A lot of the criticism from KEiiNO comes from your typical value-seekers who can only enjoy themselves in public if their shallow trash comes coated in a thick layer of novelty gimmicks and Deep Meaning, so they don’t have to admit to others and themselves than they tune in to have fun, like everyone else. There’s nothing wrong with novelty gimmicks & the like, but applying that standard to everything is taking it a tad too far. Sometimes, simplicity is key and that’s exactly what KEiiNO were: unpretentious, highly-addictive EDM adorned with epic yoiking. 😍 

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34. Gianluca - “Tomorrow” Malta 2013

"Tomorrow” is, to use Gianluca’s own words, a curious delight: I always, always, always forget about it. Then I rewatch 2013 as I do at least once per year, and each time it’s like a Céline Dion song IT’S ALL COMING BACK TO ME and I’m in love again. 😍 “Tomorrow” is such a clever twist of the typical love song by telling the story from the THIRD PERSON PERSPECTIVE by an all-knowing narrator. It’s world’s merriest audiobook. 😍

Naturally, this works because Gianluca has TONS of charisma. He’s one of the most magnetic humans ever on a Eurovision Stage? 

It’s hard to believe that he ages like the rest of us, I’d assume he was birthed fully formed and clothed, at age thirteen, in whatever rests at the end of a Neverlandian rainbow. 

“Tomorrow” could’ve so easily been one of those “Annoyingly Positive songs”, but because he’s so relentlessly jolly, Gianluca injects “Tomorrow” with limitless happy energy, enough to melt the polar icecaps. I am happy that I don’t revisit Gianluca between watches, as I do with others, because each time I rediscover him it’s like finding a four-leaf-clover. 🍀

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33. Elitsa Todorova & Stoyan Yankoulov - “Samo shampioni” Bulgaria 2013

IMA LI MLADI? IMA LI LYUDI? TSYALO SELO DOIDE PEITE NE SE BOITE

Let us continue with one of the most glorious trainwrecks EVER in Eurovision. 😍 Of course, this being the GOD-tier the severity of wreckage (aka the Sennek Factor) is even higher than normal. In the case of “Samo shampioni” the messiness began DURING THE PRESELECTIONS. 😍 Okay you may not remember or know this backstory, so allow me to enlighten you:

Okay, so *initially* BNT selected Elitsa & Stoyan and for some reason decided to hold an NF: They introduced: first a terrible rapbomination, second a boring ethnoballad (think Iriao + percussion) and then pulled out an experimental fusion of ethnic bagpipes, polyphonic singing and dubstep, which Elitsa openly pointed as her favourite. 😍 Obviously, the audience had to choose for the latter? NOPE The audience chose the iriao-esque ballad 😍 and in one of the most hilariously open displays of riggage, LESS THAN A DAY AFTER THE NF (and after Elitsa allegedly threw a huge backstage temper tantrum threatening to withdraw LMFAO), BNT produced a statement that was all like “well. we can’t send “Kismet”. 🤓 You see... it has come under our attention that... the songwriter from Argentina (lmao) can’t agree to the copyright terms we demanded of him 🤓but that’s fine because it means we can send “SAMO SHAMPIONI” instead 😊‘ <3333333333333333333333456789 who the fuck is Christer Björkman, fucking NOBODY that’s who. And of course, once “Samo Shampioni” finally got to Malmö it was an utter disaster. 😍 I say "disaster” in the best meaning of the word though. I LOVE when countries showcase their musical traditions, but Elitsa and Stoyan do it so aggressively, BLASTING the unassuming viewer with loud af bagpipe noises, following it up with a menuet of polyphony, a clarion of “AAAAAAAAAAAA-YUUUU” and a finale of dubstep and mayumaniacal percussion. “Samo Sampioni” was loud, abrasive, a clamour of ethnic noise but by the same token such a catchy, infectuous, delightful fucking BOP. No surprise it got jurypwned but it was well worth the effort. 😍

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32. Nadav Guedj - “Golden boy” Israel 2015

Welcome to the Dicedrome, ladies and gentlemen: Introducing the man who put Israel back on the map after four straight NQs. But Nadav is more than just a Hebrew Tom Dice. 

For starters, “Golden boy” is also the first time we were ever subjected to Doron Medalie (and also Imri Ziv but lol Imri), who is at his BEST here (apart from that moment when he brusquely shoved Cesár out of the way as if he were Krisse Salminen lmfao 😍): “Golden boy” has everything I could want in an uptempo party song: Drama, catchy rhythm, limitless fun, chanting, dancing and an absolutely ridiculous premise: sixteen year old boy gets wasted after fruitlessly flirting with all sorts of femfolk on his first night out. Yes, THIS

is sixteen years old. 😍 But what I mostly love about “Golden boy” is the humour. Intentional humour is really hard to get right and “Golden boy” NAILS it for me. From self-deprecating one-liners, to that choreography to b-roll material like the sound effect of beer being pourn as Nadav gets further into the song, to of course the epic finale of “THREE MINUTES! BYE :selfie”. 😍

A wild ride which, as serendipity demands, is topped off by Nadav kicking off a strong Israeli streak that indeed ENDS up with Israel winning the contest (with a worse Doron composition :-/) and him showing us around in Tel Aviv. Funny how life works sometimes, huh? 

OKAY GOTTA GO  THREE PARAGRAPHS BYEBYE

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31. Jessy Matador - “Allez ola olé” France 2010

Did you know “Matador” is Eurospeak for “SLAYER”?  😉

Speaking of EPIC party songs, I was looking “Allez Ola Olé” up for my usual ranking purposes and this song.. is one of the most successful Eurovision songs EVER? I am not surprised, because “Allez olla olé” OWNS, but at the same time random 12th placers becoming massive off-season hits <3

(yes I am aware it’s because it was the French “Waka Waka” but that’s even more hilar, actually. What on earth is it doing in Eurovision <3)

Anyway, “Allez ola olé” definitely DESERVES all praise it can get. ETERNAL THORN IN THE SIDE OF THE EUROVISION ELITISTS <3 it is of course the anti-Proud, being all rhythm and no story, literally having no purpose other than making people dance (which I LOVE doing to “Allez Ola Olé”... within the confines of my bedroom, with the curtains closed because I have the dancing skills of drunk JarJar Binks) and honestly, what a spectacle. 😍

It features, in order of ascending awesomeness, male twerking (gender equality <3)

witty references to sex (which I don’t mind here because it’s clearly consentual, and therefore, healthy, ICKOLAS)

“Je sens le truc monter/..😏 ALLEEEEZ 😱”. 

DAM BA DAM BA DAM BA DAM DAM

A fucking HAKA????? (btw, the female backing doing a salute is also lowkey great <3)

Actually, TWO HAKA’S????

This song may not have relevant meaning but my weave flew all the way to French Polynesia. “Allez, ola, olé” is nothing less than fucking AWESOME. 

In this update, we pay our final respects to Norway, Malta and France: Read more about them below:

NORWAY

I don’t feel like this chart reflects my true feelings on Norway, because I like them a LOT more than what their average implies. They’re largely just dragged down by a few bad entries in the first half of the decade. Norway in the second half of this decade has shown a lot of promise and they are on my list of countries that I expect to win in the upcoming decade. 

MALTA

Malta are a very average Eurovision country imo. As you can see, they very often select songs that are not worth giving a fuck about, but conversely the few times that they do, they’re usually excellent happy-go-lucky gems. I could see them winning if they find that rare 1-in-50 entry (by one of their jesc winners preferably), but only if they keep internally selecting their entrant because lmao MES(s)C <3

FRANCE

This is a really good chart for France and roughly what I expected. Not my favourite country but solidly upper tier. France really have reinvented themselves post 2016 and are reaping the rewards with generally higher results. I hope it gets topped off with another win soon. They deserve it. 

[sleepykalena]

Rebelcaptain & teamwork, for the ficlet prompt!!

Yes, i’m still doing these prompts LOL

So this actually was meant to bea Zootopia AU, but it got much longer than ficlet length, so I switched it to aSelfie AU instead. (it’s been how many years now and I still have not seen anyred-headed Korean babies, why must you do this ABC…)

I’ve been writing way too muchangst thanks to Parka, so I’m opting for modern, bittersweet fluff instead. Hopeit’s still satisfactory though!

Rating: T // [ao3] // [more ficlet prompts]

Tags: POV Jyn, Modern AU, Selfie AU, Unresolved romantic tension, pre-relationship, friends to lovers

“Jyn Erso, is that really you?Here? In the office? After hours?”

Jyn rolled her eyes at the loftysound of Cassian’s voice but couldn’t suppress the small, proud smile creepingup. For the first time ever, Jyn Erso was staying late at work, after hours,well after the sun had set and everyone else had gone home.

Everyone else, of course, exceptCassian, who habitually stayed after hours anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, come off it,” shewaved him aside, nose still buried on her computer screen as she clicked fromone social media site to the next, checking up on her newly establishednetwork.

“So it’s done? We’re trending?”he asked with rising optimism.

“Yeap,” she said between clicks,her eyes still scanning one tab after another. “We’re trending on Twitter, andour diaper cream is featuring on the Instagram stories of major influencers. Weeven caught the attention of the bored, rich housewives with a high followercount.” She could feel a fizzing of excitement as she said the words, and theybubbled into the air to infect her work companion, whose eyes sparkled withenthusiasm.

“And you thought you couldn’t doit,” he teased.

It was true- there was no way she’ddo it on her own. It was diaper cream,for fuck’s sake.

“Because that whole hashtag-DiaperEyething was a joke,” she retorted. Itwas just an aside during idle chatter, a cynical comment about the power ofsocial media and the gullibility of the masses, a sarcastic product pitchmatched with an eyeroll strong enough for her eyeballs to pop out of her skulland roll away. But-

“You know…we could do that toboost sales,” Leia said with an uplifting tone at the end that caused a sinkingfeeling in Jyn’s gut.

Jyn couldn’t even backtrack on her own words- she was completely frozenwith shock that anyone could even take her so seriously, and all she could dowas blink.

She remembered Leia turning to Cassian in that moment. “See to it thatyou two work together to find a way to encourage our diaper cream to double asan eye cream. Unofficially and off the books, of course- don’t want a lawsuiton our hands. Let’s use the power of social media to save this product! I’mcounting on you two,” she said with a pat to Cassian’s stiff shoulder and awink to Jyn before walking away.

Cassian slowly turned to look at Jyn, and to her surprise, Cassian wasactually siding with her over it.

“No,” she told him flatly.

“Jyn, the company’s own CEO wouldn’t flat-out endorse anything she didn’tlike,” he soothed. “And I agree with her on this one- we really could have somethinghere, and you can give yourself thecredit for it.”

“You want me to actually make good on my sarcasm and make anunofficial, off-the-books campaign about this. Using social media. Which I don’teven have.” She turned her attention away from him and back to her computer screen,contemplating how to best fake a pleasant email for a client.

Cassian leaned over just enough that his stiffly-pressed tie got in theway of her view. “Who was the one who came knocking on my office door threemonths ago asking for help, again?”

“I asked you to help ‘rebrand’ me so that I wouldn’t lose my job; Ididn’t ask for you to help me become the top sales rep or anything.”

“Yes, but part of that ‘rebrand’ was a request to help you appear lessanti-social. Which means following through on tasks that require more socializing,”he said with a sweet smile.

Jyn hated that sweet smile, knowing full-well that his ability to pullthat off was a distraction tactic, meant to divert from his own brand of anti-socialtendencies. Then again, it was his mastery of that tightrope balance between saccharineand sour that helped him secure a position that was nothing short of being theright-hand man for the CEO, who just trusted them both with a project to helpsave a product for their pharmaceutical company.

Surprisingly, Leia was right toput her faith in them- Cassian took great pains to listen to her snark againsthumanity and put the right optimistic spin on them, and soon enough Jyn wasactually talking to her neighbors for once, many of whom she discovered weretired mothers eager to save money by using something they already had in theirhomes rather than heading to their nearest cosmetics shop to diminish the bagsunder their eyes.

And, as it turned out, they werepleasant people once they had the right amount of coffee in their systems.

There was no way she’d ever findthat out about them if it weren’t for this sharp-dressed man, who, at 7 pm, finallylet his “after 5” colors show by leaning casually against her desk with aslight slouch.  

“Still, you actually followedthrough. And you used to not bother with things like this,” Cassian pointedout. “You took a risk-“

“We took a risk,” she corrected him.

“No, no, you took a risk, you leftyour comfort zone, you kept an open-enoughmind to work with me to shape this concept, and we can expect to reap the rewardswhen we take a look at our sales next month. I just helped add the bells andwhistles. All that effort, all that footwork, all that investigation…that wasstill you at the end of the day,” hesaid with conviction, and Jyn’s heart thudded against her chest at theseriousness of his compliments.

Was he always this intense whenhe felt this firey about something? Is this how he managed to build such great rapportwith people?

But then her heart sank a little-was this just an act to get her hopes up with his sense of optimism? Or did heactually believe the words coming out of his mouth? It was hard to tell whatwas a teaching moment and what was a display of genuine pride for a friend.

Does it matter, though? She asked herself. It’s not like you’re seeking his approval.

“Leia said we were a winningcombination at the meeting,” she countered as she finally closed down her tabsand got ready to shut down her workstation. “But you had a large hand in that-people don’t buy products that don’t look attractive. And we both know I’m nogood at that.”

Cassian shrugged. “Alright, so we’rea team. A little bit of you, a little bit of me. But that’s what made us that ‘winningcombination’, so it doesn’t mean your efforts should be overlooked.”

For once, she turned away fromCassian not out of a desire to be left alone by avoiding anyone’s gaze, but outof fear that Cassian would catch the rising blush on her face.

Maybe, just maybe, in the farthest corner of her personal vulnerabilities,a small part of her hoped that he approved of her in a more specific way.

“Yeah…a little bit of you, alittle bit of me,” she muttered.

She checked the time again as shestood up from her chair- 7:20 pm.

“Crap, I’m late for a date,” she groaned.“I can’t believe I got so caught up in this project that I stayed after hours…Ididn’t even buy an outfit for it. I might have to cancel-“

“And miss out on anothersocializing opportunity? Don’t do it, Jyn,” Cassian chided. “You have to followthrough, even on the recreational stuff.”

“Yeah, but I was supposed toleave work right at 5 to buy an outfit, and I really don’t want to wear my workoutfit to a date- it’s already bad enough that people call me ‘Serious BusinessErso’ as it is.”

Cassian took a step back and eyedher. He seemed to really take his time assessing her appearance, and with eachpassing second, she felt more and more self-conscious, like she was anotherpharmaceutical product in need of a rebrand.

Suddenly, without a word, he grabbedhis heavy coat and handed it to her. “Take off your office bottoms and put thison.”

“You want me to use your jacketas a dress?” Jyn asked egregiously.

“Don’t knock it til you try it,Jyn,” he sighed.

Still skeptical, she grabbed itfrom him and made a twirling gesture with her finger. Cassian obediently turnedaround, patiently waiting as she hurried to remove her trousers, throw the coaton, and tighten the waist belt to give it form.

“This feels incomplete,” sheresponded hesitantly, which prompted him to turn back around and take a goodlook at her. There was an immediate frown on his face, and she knew it was amistake to even try it.

But then she looked at her seat,and-

“My scarf,” she said suddenly,and she grabbed it off her seat and wrapped it once, twice around her neck,letting it drape off her chest. She turned around to look at herself in thereflection of the nearby vending machine. It wasn’t particularly glamorous, butthe scarf’s gentle sparkle created an almost jewelry-like effect and, thanks totheir height difference, Cassian’s coat wore like a classy dress, bundling atthe waist and creating a puffy skirt as it followed the form of her hips. Her hairwas already formal, tied up to a neat and prim bun at the base of her neck whilethe loose fringes of her hair framed her face.

Jyn always hated adhering tofashion because it was anything but comfortable. But Cassian’s coat- still warmfrom his body heat and faintly smelling of his delicately pleasant, yet neutralbody soap- defied expectations. It was fashionable without being flashy, and wearingit felt like a hug, the kind of comfort she’d always loved in her own clothes.

In its own way, Cassian’s coatwas encouraging her to relax and have a good time in what could very well be anawkward and unsuccessful date.

But there was no way she’d admitthat to him.

“What do you think?” she asked,spreading her arms out to present herself. “A little bit of you, a little bitof me, right?”

He let out a huff as his smiledwidened. “Yeah. A winning combination.”

“Yeah, let’s hope this winningcombination doesn’t turn out to disappoint this date-“

Cassian took a step closer intoher space to stop her, and Jyn’s gasp caught in her throat. He stared at herwith an intense gaze; there seemed to be so many things he wanted to say, andthe longer she looked past his long lashes and into his eyes, the more confusedshe became. She could feel the words making their way out to match the fire inhis eyes, and her chest tightened with anticipation and a worry that he was aboutto say something that could knock her off her feet and send her into a tizzy.The smell of that body soap intensified as his warmth radiated to her, and thattiny little vulnerable part of her ran in circles, still optimistic, still hopingthat maybe-

“He could disappoint you just asmuch as you could disappoint him. That’s the risk you take when you go on thesedates but make no mistake- a date isn’t a failure if it means you’re able tonarrow down what doesn’t work for you. Then you can keep working to find whatactually does work.”

Jyn rolled her eyes. “What isthis, R&D?”

“For the self? Definitely,” hesaid, but despite expecting a smile, his face remained serious, and the convictionin his tone remained. Slowly, hesitantly, he rested his hands on her shouldersand squeezed them reassuringly. “You got this, Jyn. I believe in you.”

I believe in you.

It was surprising how hard fourlittle words could knock her off her feet and send her into a tizzy. She hadn’theard that from anyone since…

Actually, when was the last time someone said theybelieved in her?

She nodded. “Thanks,” shebreathed, her heart now pounding so rapidly that she swore Cassian himselfcould hear it. She hurriedly grabbed her bag and phone and tucked her chairback under her desk, making sure to turn away from him again to hide her blush.“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she called out as she headed towards the elevator.

The elevator doors closed asCassian waved cheerfully at her, but as uplifted as she felt from his pep talk,that small part of her- the one tucked away in that farthest corner of hervulnerabilities- sank with the elevators as it lamented the ever-increasingdistance between her and her coworker, the first one she ever considered to bean actual friend and someone she could depend on.

Jyn stepped out into the night andthe chilly air brushed her cheeks as she rushed to the train station, but, forthe first time ever, she missed the warmth Cassian stirred in her.

[isuzukuretsuki]

Ikemen Revolution - Fenrir’s Route

Aaaand here’s one for Fenrir’s route!

My main comments are: FUCK those avatar challenges. It took me five thousand years to finish this damn route because I was stuck grinding for Lin for five thousand years because according to cybird, I can’t get the good ending w ma man unless I look cute smh.

The night that Alice lands in Cradle, she pretty much goes out to the garden to sob her eyes out because of the stress of being killed (oh honey don’t worry this game doesn’t have any bad ends. If you were in a game like Amnesia then I’d start crying LMAO). Fenrir happens to see her and wipes her tears away (*๓´╰╯`๓). He decides to spend the month with Alice to make her have as much fun as possible, and makes her promise that so there will be no regrets, the two will not fall in love.

But we all know that’s not gonna happen.

I guess because the boys finally learned from Lancelot’s route to never send a nameless faceless nobody with Alice, Ray assigns Fenrir as her personal bodyguard. 

Fenrir takes it upon himself to be Alice’s personal tour guide, so they go on a date around the Central Quarter eating all kinds of sweets like a bunch of dorks D’AWW. Of course the red army are full of party poopers who crashes their alone time.

@Red army boys, I LOVE YOU ALL BUT YOUR SOLDIERS NEEDA CHILL. Like my grievances from Lancelot’s route carry over in twofold because the nameless red soldiers are once again, STILL a bunch of blood thirsty hooligans who are clearly letting “may glory flow crimson through our veins” slogan get to their heads WAYY too much. 

(☪̤̆_̆ ☪̤̆) THAT’S SO SPECIFIC LMAO.

But anyhoo I guess having a body guard with actual plot armor was really beneficial because Fenrir drives off all of the Red soldiers! And as it turns out, they were sent by Edgar (but of course why am I not surprised smh).

They return home and a few black army soldiers comes out shitting their pants because apparently there’s a ghost, and when Fenrir hears that HE shits his pants. 

Luka has his priorities straight.

Fenrir pussyfoots outside the army headquarters for a few minutes because GHOST but then big bear Sirius comes out RURL pissed because everyone keeps making a ruckus.

WHY DO I FIND THIS SO FUCKING FUNNY. LIKE IT’S PICTURE PERFECT. I CAN IMAGINE HIM DOING THIS IN MY HEAD FRAME BY FRAME.

So the ghost was actually a magic cult goon creeping around like a lech looking for women's’ underwear, whom Seth covered for. I had zero interest in Seth before but I do find it interesting that more hints about Seth’s connection to the magic cult goons are being dropped, and if anything it makes me want to play his route now.

I’d love to be your friend!!! But unfortunately Fenrir is a giant stick in the mud and won’t let me! But never fear because your route is coming out soon so soon I’ll be more than just your friend LOL!

 Fenrir gets news that some of their soldiers got cornered on the Red Bridge. Well what do you know, turns out the nameless red soldiers are still mad that they busted a nut in anticipation for nothing because they didn’t get to skewer any soldiers in Lancelot’s route, so now they’re taking out their pent up frustration here.

Luka hears the news as well and rushes to the red bridge just in time to see Jonah and the rest of the red soldiers man handling the black army soldiers (wtf Jonah I expected better of you). Luka goes from simmering with rage to boiling with rage and charges at the red soldiers. Obviously the red soldiers don’t care (or... they just can’t comprehend) that Luka is their superior’s freaking brother because all they can think about is reaping the reward for unnecessary stabbing and so they go into Ultimate Shish Kabobing Mode and decide to kill Luka.

Jesus christ... these fucking red soldiers. I am so sorry but I think the only people in this clown of an army that has any shred of honor or self control are the red army love interests LOL.

Anyway Fenrir drags Luka’s delirious bloody corpse back to the black army and the scene ain’t pretty. But it’s okay because we all know that this game doesn’t have the balls to actually kill anyone so it’s not like there’s any need to be worried.

See even Alice acknowledges it lol. This game’s too soft (not that that’s necessarily a bad thing... if I want angst I’ll just read fanfiction ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Apparently the one who actually made swiss cheese of Luka was Jonah. At first I was just SO CONFUSION?? JONAH WOULD NEVER DO THAT! until this bomb dropped and my only reaction was honestly just “...yikes”.

CRIES @ MY HEART

Jonah sneaks into Black Territory unarmed and Fenrir decides to arrange for him to see Luka like a the great wingbro he is. Alice’s left awkwardly keeping Jonah company but the ice quickly breaks and they end up spending the day talking about Luka ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡.

Fenrir successfully sneaks Jonah into Luka’s room but the two end up just having a screaming match and Luka boots Jonah out of his room. Understandable, considering how all the red soldiers are like little kids that you needa put those backpack straps on because who knows what the fuck they’ll do if left to their own devices.

me whenever I have any kind of guests over.

eat my ass @ Sirius 

When it’s decided that the Black and Red army are gonna go to war for realsies, Alice requests to go onto the battle field with Fenrir so she can repel magic. Sirius freaks out going all like “ojou-chan, you mustn’t! It’s not a walk in the park!!” but Alice ain’t having any of that and essentially tells Sirius to eat her ass. Fenrir being the amazing bro he is sticks up for Alice and asks Ray if he can take her with him, swearing he’ll protect her. Ray’s like sigh fine. This scene was honestly my favourite because I loved how much confidence Fenrir had in Alice and how he respected her desire to help. Unlike a certain someone ੧| ‾́ェ ‾́ |੭ (totally not throwing shade at Sirius LMAO).

CRIES SOME MORE THAT’S SUCH A CUTE NICKNAME.

I could have asked the exact same thing of you Sirius.

The rest of the Black Army can clearly see sparks flying between Fenrir and Alice but unfortunately, Fenrir has to join Sirius in the emotional constipation of “what is this feeling in my chest?! Definitely not love!” Granted Fenrir has an excuse because of the promise he made her, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless.

oh my god can you shut up about this dumbass slogan for one minute. 

Ngl despite the heart warming moment of resolve when Fenrir decides to take Alice into battle, it’s pretty damn hard to take the war seriously because it feels like a bunch of 14 year old teenagers doing a play-war considering of how almost comedic it is. Again, I’m not saying that this game needs to be an angst fest where everyone dies, but for a story about two armies on the brink of war, it does a pretty bad job at building any real tension or showing this war as a source of any real conflict with any real stakes or any real consequences.

I totally *do not* dislike that nickname 👀

We cut back to the red army who are all quite frazzled because they all had that “oh fuck” moment when they realized that they’re getting their asses whooped by the black army.  Lancelot decides to stay his hand, whereas Jonah rages at Edgar’s incompetence but Edgar’s ultimately like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ King’s orders”.

Alice you’re doing amazing, sweetie.

Alice continues to fight with Fenrir on the front lines but she realizes that she really loves him and she doesn’t want to go home anymore! UNFORTUNATELY FOR HER, our lovely gentleman Fenrir “this feeling in my chest is totally love but I WON’T ADMIT IT!” Godspeed repeatedly dodges her attempts at confessing (¬_¬). GOOD SIR I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. You’re just trying to put off having a heart to heart about your feelings until the full moon so you can boot Alice back to her world without ever having to talk about it (ლಠ益ಠ)ლ.

Alice tries once again for the nth time to confess her feelings to Fenrir but this time they’re interrupted by the magic cult goons who are hell bent on capturing Alice. This plays out exactly as you’d predict and the two get cornered at a cliff LOL. Alice gets blown off the cliff and Fenrir jumps after her to save her.

This, my friends, is what we call: plot armor.

They miraculously (and conveniently) survive their fall and end up in the castle ruins in the forbidden forest. I guess being lost in an abandoned forest with a totally not haunted castle next to them sets the mood for sexy time because they end up making out like their life depends on it. Conveniently, without actually saying they love each other ლ(ಠ_ಠლ). 

GUYS... THE DRIVER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE.... GUYS....

They make it back to Black Territory in one piece with the help of Loki and Harr and Ray loses his shit because he thought they died T T T.  Fenrir is sent back to the front lines and Alice is totally ready to go back and kick some ass but I guess all the fire and confidence in this power couple completely deflated because Fenrir becomes Sirius 2.0 and refuses to take Alice SMH. 

Alice finds Fenrir boarding a carriage to leave, and she stops him and tries to tell him that she loves him. Fenrir responds by pulling Alice into the carriage with him and at this point I was HYPED because “is he actually gonna take her with him?!?!” but my hopes are quickly dashed when he shoves her into the carriage, initiates round 2 of INTENSE MAKE OUT SESSION LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT..... then throws Alice’s sad ass back out of the carriage and leaves her behind once he’s finished (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻.

UGH! FENRIR! JUST--- AGHHHHHHH. 

YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN. Like yea sex is great, but have you ever heard of proper verbal communication??

(I also find it funny how the driver was just sitting there the entire time they were making out doing a big boi sweat).

me with group assignments in school.

Fenrir comes back on the night of the full moon and Alice for the 100TH DAMN TIME IN THIS ROUTE, tries to tell him that she doesn’t want to go home, but Fenrir, again, dashes her hopes and tells her she has to go back he won’t be able to protect her all the time. Which we all know is bullshit, but nevertheless Alice decides to listen to him. 

Ha ha ha you are so full of shit.

And so Alice once again goes to the gates of hell garden portal which I officially dub as “The Hole Where Bad Things Happen” or more accurately, “The Hole That No Player Ever Wants To See”. 

Anyhoo Alice leaps back home and spends about a month moping in London until one day a black army soldier comes to London and begs Alice to go back with him because Fenrir’s in danger! Alice, having literally zero self preservation because I guess her time on the battle field taught her jack shit, blindly follows this fellow back to Cradle and the moment she arrives, the guy reveals himself to be a magic cult goon and so she’s kidnapped and taken to Amon’s sex dungeon.

Look. I’m not gonna accuse Alice of “dumb mc syndrome” and I don’t necessarily blame her for falling for it but at the same time, COME ON. THIS IS THE DUMBEST PLOT POINT EVER. Of all the possible reasons she comes back to Cradle, THIS IS THE ONLY THING THEY COULD THINK OF? What makes it so aggravating is that it’s stated multiple times that any person from Reason can repel magic, so if that’s the case, the cult goons could have just kidnapped any random off the street instead of wasting time and energy looking for Alice. And if they could conveniently stroll into the land of Reason, why didn’t they do that ages ago?!

You know that writing rule “make your villains smarter, not your protagonists dumber”, or something like that? Well in this case, everyone is dumb!

Anyway during the month Alice was gone, Lancelot finally decides to stop going radio silent and consults the Black Army about Amon and his weed stash. This felt really convenient and almost inconsistent with Lancelot’s character because in the other routes he was hell bent on not talking unless 100% cornered, but in Fenrir’s route he spills the beans like it’s no big deal. 

Fenrir hears the news of Alice being kidnapped by Amon and the Black army pretty much storms into the Magic Tower and fishes Alice out. Amon finally reveals himself but honestly he doesn’t put up much of a fight because Fenrir shoots him with one of those hiccuping guns and that’s enough to deflate all of Amon’s fighting spirit lmao so he gets arrested in the end. Talk about anti climatic as hell. This entire thing just felt really stupid because if all they had to do with storm the damn tower, they should have done so ages ago.

Admittedly I do like the resolution to this whole fiasco. Fenrir is totally ready to get down and dirty, but before that Fenrir and Alice actually, finally, and at long last, properly talk about their feelings and sort out their relationship mess. 

Dramatic End:

Alice officially joins the Black Army, and they hold her enrollment ceremony. Hosting it is usually Ray’s job since he’s king but since Alice is his best friend’s babe, he decides to let Fenrir take over. Unfortunately, Fenrir can’t keep his excitement in check and ends up picking Alice up and spinning her around in joy ╭(๑ ॔ㅂ ਂ ॓)و ̑̑. THIS WAS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS ENDING.

-----

Honestly I have a lot of mixed feelings about this route. There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly, but since I don’t wanna end this post on a salty note so I’ll just start with the ugly and work my way up.

The Ugly: The route starts losing momentum their promise of not falling in love morphs into the source for Fenrir’s self cockblock fest for the rest of the route and him repeatedly rebuffing Alice’s attempts to tell him she wants to stay in Cradle became unbearable frustrating. Playing Sakuya’s route in Norn9 alongside Fenrir’s route did not help at all because his route also had a “promise of not falling in love” premise and had the exact same problems as Fenrir’s route so honestly my frustration was just doubled at this point.

The Bad: The plot is balls off the rail in the second half if it isn’t obvious enough from my complaints earlier. The Hole That No Player Ever Wants to See making a reappearance in Fenrir’s route kills a lot of the build up between Alice and Fenrir and there was honestly no point of having Alice go back to London. The circumstances that lead her to returning were so stupid it had me head banging against the wall.

The Good: I think Fenrir and Alice have a very strong “friends to lovers” romance going on and it was honestly really sweet and wholesome. I loved how their friendship and subsequent romance builds them both up and makes them better people-- they’re both stronger together, they’re equals, they’re partners. You really get a sense of camaraderie between the two and their relationship is founded on mutual respect, understanding, trust, and confidence in each other which I’m 100% on board with. Fenrir taking Alice onto the battle field with him is a testament of the rock solid trust between them. They have a very strong partner in crime vibe that I love! 

I adore how Fenrir refers to Alice as his “best friend” or his “best buddy” and it was just so cute, it made my heart swell because I’m a firm believer that your s/o SHOULD be your best friend.

Overall imo, Fenrir’s route is about on par with Lancelot’s, though it has higher highs and lower lows than Lancelot’s route did.

Anyway, I’m making my way through Edgar’s route currently (♥ω♥*).

[prettywordsyouleft]

Incantation

Summary: With the enchantment of his voice and guitar, Sewoon was able to withdraw the thoughts of his audience to help him progress as a singer. He heard their thoughts, their issues and their dreams. But he never heard yours.

Characters: Jeong Sewoon x reader

Genre: fluff/ witchcraft au

A/N: Second fiction for this week! I’ve always had a love affair for Jeong Sewoon whenever he’s paired with his guitar… his voice is just everything to me, and so I knew I had to write something in this monthly theme with him enchanting us all! I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 3081

 He sat on the stool, closing his eyes as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar in a perfect rhythm, the beautiful sounds quietening the small crowd of the bar. He smiled to himself before his voice joined in, hearing a couple of audible gasps from the audience at his tone.

Sewoon knew he sounded appealing, his voice oozing with a tone that even he himself was proud to own. It had taken years to sound this good. Countless hours of working through his vocal limitations, and many sessions of thumbing at his guitar with painful cracked skin and calluses. He had done it all to get to here. To be able to share his music with others. To captivate an audience with just his voice and guitar.

To reap the rewards from doing so.

His ears pricked as the first thought came to his mind, his eyes casually glancing to the girl in the front row. She blushed deeply when his eyes met hers, and her thoughts hit his mind in a fast stream, Sewoon barely catching all of it.

“If only I could sing a song about how to capture hearts. I believe love songs are the best!”

He nodded his head, he had sung many love songs before, in fact the song he was uttering right now was a shy love confession. He shifted in his chair slightly at his song choice tonight, looking across to you in the very back and sucking in some air before moving on to a man near you when his voice reached his ears.

“I reckon he could suit testing his power in a rock ballad. Something edgy, his voice could do it.”

Sewoon huffed, he knew he could, but it wasn’t really his style. He liked singing the way he was, and his new song was one of his favourite kind of sounds. Relaxed, and reliant on the varying shades of his voice. Plus, he needed his guitar to perform, and rock wouldn’t really suit his acoustic sound.

As the song came to an end, he sighed, the crowd hadn’t really offered much tonight. Bowing in gratitude, he climbed off the stage and went to get his drink from the bar, smiling at you from the other side of the counter that you were now back behind.

“Another great performance,” you mentioned with a smile and he nodded distractedly, thanking you for his honey water – a must have after being on stage. You had been gracious enough in giving him these every Friday and Saturday night, and he had come to think of you much like honey himself. You had stuck in his brain ever since he had met you here, and your smiles made him feel warm and gooey. He hated that you made him feel that way, especially after nights like tonight.

He hadn’t gotten anything from the crowd.

“It could have been better,” he admitted, and you cocked your head to the side. Sewoon smiled. “It’s not easy trying to captivate them sometimes.”

You scoffed. “Everyone was hanging off your words tonight, are you blind Sewoon?!”

Not you though, he thought to himself, sighing heavily. Out of every performance he’d done here, you hadn’t once offered him anything when he performed. Sure you’d smile a little as you wiped glasses and stacked them, or glanced over in his direction whilst pouring someone a drink.

But he hadn’t heard you yet. And it was driving him insane.

You see, Sewoon had tried. The hours in the studio, the vocal training, the calluses, they all came to a head one day when he was prepared to give being a musician up. And then he met some unfortunate soul at the right time for him, and the wrong time for them. They exchanged guitars, the man all but throwing his into Sewoon’s grip and taking his old, beaten, barely worth a dime of an instrument. He had never understood it at first.

But over time he realised the struggles of that musician. It wasn’t a guitar for just anyone. Because when he strummed his fingers over the strings, it made a melody that he had never thought he could conjure. And his voice suddenly fit the bill too. Sewoon wasn’t stupid, he knew the guitar was the reason he was succeeding now. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the underside had an engraving upon it that he couldn’t read, it was in a language not known to this world. He had tried to find it, and the closest he had come was to faery folklore. But he wasn’t so sure he could truly delve that deep into that kind of world, accepting the guitar had some kind of magic to it, and coupled with his voice, it made people fall in love with him.

Like an incantation, he put a spell on his audience, and hoped to receive in return.

The first time he had, he had almost stopped singing. He heard a young girl’s inner thoughts over her boyfriend, and how she wished he would realise how much she loved him. It had frightened him to look into her dreamy expression from his voice, and hear so much of what was tumbling around from within.

And then he realised how great her troubles would make for a new song.

After releasing that, he heard another voice, and wrote a song about caring for someone out of their reach. And from there he became greedy, his new songs all coming from the voices he heard when he performed. He had always struggled with his lyrics until his guitar found him.

Now he had everything going so well for him. Except you.

At first Sewoon insisted to himself that he didn’t need your thoughts, since on average he could get at least three song ideas from singing at the bar each night. That kept him busy and his music fresh. Ideally, he didn’t need you to help him with his lyrics when he was hearing everyone else around him. But over time, you were the only person he didn’t hear anything from. It intrigued him; he just wanted to hear from you once. To see what hid behind your pretty little smile that he had grown attached to. To see if your thoughts were as addicting as sinking into your eyes were.

You tapped your fingers on the bar counter loudly in front of him then, and he blinked rapidly. You smirked. “You did it again. Have I got something on my face? Always staring, Jeong Sewoon.”

“Uh, sorry,” he admitted, though he smiled all the same. You liked when he did. “Were you saying anything?”

“I might have complimented you on tonight’s song. It was, different.” He watched your cheeks flush with colour and his own skin grew hot from it.

His song might have been a bust tonight, but he was glad you liked it. It was one of his own for a change. He hadn’t written for himself in the past year since finding his guitar. But the song had formed itself over several dreams he had. Dreams of you. He had written it a month ago, and taken this long to have the courage to sing it.

He had learned that the songs from himself weren’t so popular, and should have guessed Eye 2 Eye wouldn’t be successful in drawing in new voices.

“Perhaps my own lyrics don’t do enough for others,” he concluded and then realised he had said it out loud when you placed your hand down on the bar top again. He glanced up at you, your eyes wide and shaking your head at him.

“Tonight’s song was my favourite,” you insisted and he couldn’t help but grin. But he held the rest of his thoughts in check. He didn’t want you to know just how giddy he felt then. Not yet anyway. He hadn’t made it big enough on his music, and he hadn’t heard you. As soon as he had, he’d confess.

He just hoped that moment would happen soon.

_____________________

A couple of months passed by and Sewoon was frustrated. His content was better than ever, but you were different, more distant from him. He couldn’t understand why. He had initially thought you had perhaps gotten a boyfriend with all of his stalling, and pulled back because of that. But you were still single so Gwanghyun, his friend that also worked the bar with you, had insisted. It confused Sewoon then, wondering what he had done that would make you barely smile at him anymore. You were still like honey to him, but now the kind that made it hard to swallow when you had spooned too much in at once. He was troubled, sometimes not paying attention to the voices he heard, and trying to capture your attention instead. He wondered if his guitar was up to no good, but he knew better. It was still sending out its spell, charming the audience to share with him.

Finally, you gave him an answer, though he hadn’t been prepared for it at all. He had watched you as he sung a song about two guys liking the same girl who always wore red, his eyes flickering to his subject that was a return member of his audience tonight. She seemed to look down at her red dress and then back up him in surprise, clapping her hands together and then turning to one of the guys on her right. By the time Sewoon found you again, your eyes were dark and dangerous. His voice cracked for the first time in a live performance and the crowd gasped.

He was thankful the song was quickly over, and after signing a couple of autographs, and packing up his guitar, he went over to the bar, you all but throwing a drink at him.

“Sorry, we’re all out of honey today.”

Sewoon took the water gingerly, and tried to smile. “That’s okay. Is, is everything alright with you?”

You looked like you were about to speak, but your eyes travelled around the bar for a moment, landing on someone behind him before narrowing back on his own face. He gulped, you were thunderous.

“Gwanghyun, watch the counter, yeah?” you barely got out through gritted teeth to the fellow bartender, who exchanged a warning look at Sewoon as you charged around the counter and dragged him and his guitar into the back storage room. Shutting the door, you firmly placed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is your deal?!”

“I … uh… what?” he spluttered, your face was so twisted up. He couldn’t tell if it was anger or hurt that was more evident in your swirling eyes, and he couldn’t find his voice to ask further.

Thankfully you had a lot to say. “You’re a fraud.”

He froze.

“You know, as a bartender, I hear a lot of stories about people. You pour them a couple of drinks, and sometimes, someone will tell you their life story. I try to be polite and listen to them, but then I let their words go. How are you doing it Sewoon?! How are you hearing their problems or feelings and making them into songs?! How can you take from others like that? At first I just felt déjà vu with some of your songs. But tonight confirmed it. Jessi is the muse for tonight’s song, the lady in red! Right?!”

He didn’t know where to begin or what to say and you heaved in air, shaking a little at the confrontation. How could he even tell you? That the guitar he owns sends the voices to him and captivates him with their dramas to write them into lyrics? That he’d be a useless nobody without their support in his music. That sometimes he avoided singing songs so beautifully written because they held someone else’s pain in them? It wasn’t fair that he had zero talent to rely on. Sewoon felt his mood plummet the further he tried to find a solution.

He would need to find another bar to work in. This thought alone made him feel so cowardly; he lowered his head in shame.

You groaned. “Sewoon?!”

“I’m listening.”

“You’re not answering me though, how can you sing about others like that?! I thought, I thought you had a gift, but really, you’re just stealing inspiration from other people’s situations.”

He glanced up then, finding a small amount of courage as he gripped at his guitar case handle. “Isn’t that what artists do? Draw inspiration from others?”

“There’s a limit to it though, shouldn’t you experience it?!”

“I have,” he defended, thinking back over songs he had sung this year, a lot of them about being in a one-sided crush. He could definitely relate to that. “I’ve experienced a lot of what I sing.”

“Oh really,” you challenged, shaking your head a moment later. “I don’t even know why I’m this worked up at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology! You’re not stealing my thoughts!”

“That’s because I can’t hear them!” he blurted out, his eyes growing wide momentarily. You were silent, but appeared curious as to what he meant. He groaned and nodded once. He would tell you. He told you how he had no true talent until the guitar came into his world. That he struggled with lyrics that people could relate to. How he came to hear the voices, the muses to his songs. How playing at the bar enchanted others. Except you. And how much it frustrated him. He spilled it all out, so much that he was kind of stunned when he was finished. Sewoon had never told anyone about any of this.

For an immeasurable moment, you were quiet, contemplating all he had said to you. And then you felt the tears in your eyes, wiping at them quickly in hopes he wouldn’t see them. But he did and he moved closer, reaching to rub away the tear stains on one of your cheeks. You bit at your lip at his gesture and Sewoon only then clicked onto what he was doing.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Who’s thoughts belonged to that one song I liked, Sewoon?” you whispered and he frowned for a moment, trying to recollect the song you meant. “The one you thought didn’t do well, but I loved. Who owns those lyrics?”

He was struck by your words, his throat drying up. You were talking about his song. The one he had written for you. It had been you that had been behind those lyrics, a sweet confession of how he loved you.

“Sewoon?” you called to him, staring into his eyes. He smiled, just like the song lyrics.

“You do.”

You were taken aback, tilting your head to the side. “You just said you hadn’t once heard-”

“I mean, I wrote them, for you.”

You stilled, and he waited with bated breath for your next reaction. Suddenly you blinked rapidly. “But why, aren’t I frustrating you like you said?”

“I was frustrated that I could never find a way to tell you how I felt, because you never gave over your inner voice, I was worried on how to approach you the right way. On whether you liked me too. The lyrics in that song, they’re about you.”

“Oh.” You seemed stuck again, and he didn’t know what more to do. His hands itched to grab you, his eyes zeroed in on your lips in the dim lighting. But he waited. You had been far too angry with him before. He didn’t want to push too hard and lose you completely. He already thought he had. Finally you glanced up at him and smiled lightly. “Could you, could you sing it again to me?”

“Now?”

You nodded. “Do you even remember the lyrics?”

He almost laughed. He couldn’t forget them like he couldn’t forget to breathe. They were embedded in his mind always; because they had been his first proper lyrics of his own he performed.

Sewoon bent to pull out his guitar, standing upright quickly as he slung it over his shoulder. He was nervous, and he wasn’t normally when he went to perform. But this was for you and you only.

He began to sing for you, his voice echoing a little in the space you were in. And like everyone else who stood before him when he sang, you were captivated. But in a different way. There was no dreamy gaze, or looking as if you were under a spell. He could see your eyes brighten when he mentioned how you were pretty in a different way each day. How moved you were when he got to the bridge, the part where he expressed his hesitations on how to tell you his feelings. He held you up to the very last line, and then the room succumbed to silence again, a slight ringing of the last strum of his guitar still in his ear.

“Do you want to hear my inner voice now?” you asked and Sewoon smiled.

“It doesn’t work that way, it happens when I play-”

“I like when you smile too. Every time I see you it makes my heart beat faster. When you get lost staring into my eyes, I’ve always hoped it was because you liked me. It gave me time to gaze at you too. My answer is yes Sewoon.”

“Yes?” he managed, his breathing feeling unhinged at your words.

You nodded, reaching forward to for his hand, gently intertwining yours with his. “You’re not a bad person for what you’re doing. But I like your songs better. You should sing them more than other people’s ones. Your thoughts are my favourite. And I’ll tell you, like you asked in your song, yes, I want to see you tomorrow too.”

Sewoon swallowed, he hadn’t expected this when you had dragged him in here. But he wasn’t complaining. Because you had answered his lyrics. And there was only one thing left for him to do. Leaning in closer, he hesitated only a second before pressing his lips to yours, his soul feeling as though it was singing its own song now as you kissed him back.

He wasn’t talent-less. Sure, the guitar helped, even now. But you had liked his love song for you.

He only hoped you’d like the rest to come.

________________

Welcome to Frightful October, a collab between myself and @this-song-thats-only-for-you ... this week’s theme is Spellbound! To follow more of the stories check out the links below:

Other stories in Spellbound: Superstitious // Incantation // Love Spell // A Gift

Frightful October Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Guidelines

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Your blog is my favorite, thank you for all the posts and research you do. I would like to ask what, in your opinion, you think Noda has planned for Ogata? I lose hope sometimes but I also feel afraid to hope for him! He is still so mysterious so it is hard to make theories, but I would love to read your opinions.

*blush* Thank you so much for apprecciating my blog and for your ask!

Hum... please, correct me if I’m wrong but I think what you’d like to know is if there will be a redemption path for him or not?

In this regard the story can go three ways:

1) The story will decide Ogata is simply too ruined and jaded for Asirpa’s kindness to make a difference. Sure, he might have apprecciated it but it’s just like a drop of water in the sea. She’s just ONE young girl giving him some small consideration and niceness but, of course, she’s not devoting her life to fix him (and she shouldn’t). The rest of the world wasn’t so kind to him and there’s plenty of things he has done by now he simply can’t take back. In short being kind with someone when that person is far too gone is useless. It won’t change anything for the person being nice or the person receiving niceness. You could spare yourself the effort as that person was already doomed. Generally when a character is considered doomed he either dies or meet up with a very bad ending (jail or worse). The underlining moral is that if you do evil, you’re evil and you’ll be punished for it.

2) The story will decide Asirpa’s kindness will affect Ogata enough to change him in regard to her but not enough to change him into a good person. She’ll be a person for whom he’ll have a soft spot, and whom he might be willing to help. Everyone else though can just drop dead and if it can’t he can help with it. Basically the story will decide to reward Asirpa for her kindness and show what she did wasn’t a waste of time. It might not have changed Ogata radically but it will affect him and Asirpa will be the one reaping the benefits for it. When the story goes for this path is harder to predict the fate of the character. The story at this point has two possible paths:

2A) it might decide for an open ending in this regard, letting him go so as to leave open the possibility he could improve further either on his own or due to more positive influence. The underlining message is that kindness will hopefully produce more kindness but won’t try to support the idea that kindness will SURELY produce a completely positive outcome. It prduced a better outcome and more kindness might help improving things... or the starting kindness might help a person on a journey of self redemption but this will be left up to the reader’s speculation so, if the reader prefers for redemption ultimately not to come or a punishment to be dished out... well he can picture it in his mind.

2A) The story can also decide to kill him off as it has proved that kindness affects people but didn’t feel like moving further than this in fear if punishment isn’t dished out it can look like sins are washed out too easily. The character might be given a heroic death, just to confirm he was affected in a relevant manner by the kindness received but doesn’t really get to... step up the game. The story doesn’t really want him to spend his life redeeming himself (as in change his life and start living now to make up for all he did wrong in his life), it just wants to prove kindness is rewarded but, at the same time, confirm evil-doing is punished. Maybe view in an heroic death an absolution to sins, many don’t think it’s enough but hey, everyone in this way can decide for himself if the character is redeemed or not.

3) The story might decide Asirpa’s kindness will affect Ogata enough it’ll radically change his lifestyle. It won’t be quick as some hope, he won’t abruptly turn from how he is now to a good samaritan who only does what’s right and pure but, by the end of the manga he’ll be supposed to pile up genuine regret and good deeds enough to be considered a different person and a person that will keep on improving and never go back to how he was. Now actually some tales, after getting to this point still kill off the character but I don’t think that will be the case.

So what is Golden Kamuy really storing for Ogata?

As Noda had shown Ogata has some moral sense (no killing old women who remind him of his grandmother, saving Nikaido and, possibly, returning Sugimoto’s favour by saving him from a fake Ainu) and Asirpa has influenced him a little the idea seems to be he’s not so jaded he can’t be affected.

Actually, since there’s something decent in him, if you don’t want to call him good, Asirpa’s kindness should imporve it, otherwise the message would be again that kindness affect nothing or worse, that it makes matters worse.

So we should go for path 2 or 3.

In addition to this Ogata’s personal backstory started as pretty pitiful and not his fault at all.

He can’t be accounted responsible for his parents’ actions or his mother’s madness and while it would be considered an acceptable punishment for him to be mistreated due to him murdering his mother (even if it was probably a pity killing done by a kid who didn’t really understand well the situation), he was actually laughed over for something he had no involvement at all, how his mother was accused to be a whore... which she probably wasn’t.

In such circumstances many narrations don’t like to press too much on the issue of unredeemable because they end up on promoting prejudice, in short proving the bullying Ogata received was valid because his army mates all called him yamaneko due to his mom and, guess what? He became a yamaneko ultimately so they were right in doing so even when he actually hadn’t done anything because they knew he would so people with a birth like Ogata shouldn’t be given chances, it’s only fair to taunt them, ultimately they’ll reveal themselves for the jerks/failure/yamaneko they were meant to be. As you can see this is a message a story might be not too keen on promoting.

In order to criticize Ogata’s father’s actions as well as the ones of Ogata’s Army classmates he needs to be given chances which can equate the mistreatment that was tossed against him and that would prove if he had been handled in a different way he would have turned into a different person.

In short the kindness Asirpa showed toward him has to become a seed that will give some fruits.

Of course seeds take a lot of time into turning into trees and then giving fruits and, sometimes, fruits are just scarce.

So what I expect is for Ogata to do something good due to Asirpa showing him kindness. It might not be here and now, maybe it’ll happen much farther in the future and it might not be enough to save the day or to redeem him but it has to be enough to allow Asirpa to reap what she sow and prove that kindness isn’t unnecessary, that mistreating a person for things that aren’t even his fault or due to prejudice is never right.

As said before it doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’ll fully redeem himself. Nor it means Asirpa has to devote her life to take care of him or forgive him for what he did or anything.

It just means her kindness has to be repaid with kindness for the message that kindness is always a good thing to work.

Of course, as everyone else had not been kind to him, quite the opposite, often for petty reasons, they also should theoretically reap what they sow. In a way the bullet to Sugimoto’s head can very well represent this... but it also becomes an obstance in a possible redemption path.

If Ogata is busy in ‘an eye for an eye’ quest, although he might be willing to return Asirpa’s kindness... well, things for him won’t change much and he and Sugimoto might as well end up self destroying in attempt to ‘get even’.

Golden Kamuy hadn’t been a manga willing to support personal revenge so far after all.

So the only thing I feel confident enough as of now is that Ogata will likely end up on returning Asirpa’s kindness or trying to in future (no, no idea if it’ll be now).

It gets harder through, to predict the rest.

A redemption path implies regret for his past actions but it would be rather weird if he were to feel sorry for killing that monster that his father was or betraying Tsurumi who was using him or killing Wilk who clearly didn’t impress him positively as a model of a father or Sugimoto who was mostly a jerk with him through all the time they spent together (honestly, I love Sugimoto but he’d been a jerk to Ogata, no excuses... though I’m not sure if Sugimoto fully realized it but this is a discussion for another post).

Anyway at most Ogata might sorry for the pain he caused to Asirpa as he probably didn’t mean to hurt her that badly and spending time with her might have only persuaded him she didn’t deserve to be hurt.

This is however not enough to insure his character path will turn into a full redemption path although it’s enough to strongly point he’ll have a personal improvement path.

We can only wait and see how the situation will evolve though.

I don’t think Golden Kamuy will end anytime soon and while of course Noda might decide to kill off Ogata at any moment it looks like an unlikely choice at this point in time. A possible choice, of course, but unlikely as it’ll be weird if his role in the story were to end now (though I’m biased and therefore I’m not fully reliable on this).

Anyway I think Ogata still has a lot of time to evolve and, possibly, change for the better.

While it would be possible to kill him and reveal his true goals and his involvement in many plot points later or as he’s dying Golden Kamuy doesn’t seem to be in a rush for this sort of things. Here and there we still discover new things about the main characters even though they had been with us for such a long time. If the story were to cram everything in a chapter or reveal it while Ogata isn’t around I’m not sure it would work that well.

But well, we can only wait and see.

Thank you for asking about my opinion and giving me the chance to discuss about this intriguing topic!

[face-palming-fox]

meh my dinner said ‘feel miserable bitch’ so now i wanna lay down instead of be productive like i planned..

and instead i’ma do a l’il bitchin’ post cos i’m a bit grumpy today after glancing a video about something i was looking forward to. but over all, i think it’s just kinda really sad and disappointing there is like... absolutely zero reason to look forward to shit anymore? or be excited about things? because as soon as you get invested into it... it goes to hell or something happens to leave a bad taste in your mouth about it.

kinda ridin’ off of my disappointment of sky cotl yesterday, cos the fact i spent real money for in game items that i THOUGHT i was getting and yet you still need to spend IN GAME currency as well to even reap any rewards from your real money is a fucking scam. and i normally don’t spend money on IAP/microtransaction games and gacha like this cos.. it’s all a scam and i got more important things to spend my cash on but when i do get excited about something and justify spending a l’il cash this is the reward i get? i have to grind away to get anything? i mean there’s a lot they grant you with the money.. if you can unlock it.. but yeesh. not a good look when i was feeling pretty good about the game and it’s balancing. it’s worse than i thought under the surface.

but today’s gripe is... it’s been what.. two.. three.. idk how many years now of hazbin/helluva branding and advertising and merch selling and what not. i’m not even excited about either series now. people argue that ‘oh don’t be made about the changes in hazbin, they did it in helluva’ they didn’t change every voice actor, very few had design changes and it stayed relatively the same as the pilot. not to mention it was hyped less (imo) and advertised/merch sold less than hazbin. i glanced a vid today talking about helluva update and drama. apparently there’s legal issues preventing it from moving forward plus a lot of va’s have crossed over doing hazbin too which.. feels like??? bad planning on productions part? like why would you have one team of cast working on two shows? you could’ve oh idk.. kept the original cast of hazbin who a lot weren’t in helluva as far as i know.. and had two shows releasing side by side without much waiting but y’know what do i know about anything.

as far as the redesigning... why are they even redesigning them? i see everyone so hype about the redesigns and what not and.. i just think they’re completely stupid and useless. literally angel and alastor didn’t change really at all (except i hate angel’s white gloves.. his arms/hands are white.. why give him why gloves as well? the red contrasted with his body..) and they prolly made those decisions because all hell would’ve broken loose if they had change their original designs too much being the most popular charas. i do like charlie’s hair more in the redesign, it makes more sense and looks better visually, i miss her dark eyes because yes she’s a demon but i think it gave her that doe-eyed hopeful look since she’s not like.. (as far as we’ve seen) an EVIL demon? so the red eyes just kinda don’t make sense to me but w/e, i don’t hate them.

but what doesn’t make ANY sense to me at all.. is making everyone look the same. take away the contrast, put vaggie in the same color palette... who else is just gonna be red/black/white instead of having unique design and looking like separate charas. like if it was just a hotel uniform costume? okay sure. but... why did they take her clothes design away completely? (i’m not much of a fan of vaggie anyway) idk. it’s getting to the point where i feel like i should give these two series the ‘voltron’ treatment and just.. not watch anymore so i don’t absolutely hate the show for every choice they’ve made that put it in the toilet.

i love so many charas and it’s rare when i like a bunch of charas in a show rather than a select two or three so.. kinda just feels like they’re shooting these two shows in the foot. i’ve already been a bit sus of v/ivzie anyway cos i’ve seen rumors float around about her here and there anyway but it’s the internet as well so i dunno what exactly all that’s about but damn man.. can i have anything to enjoy/look forward to/continue to be a fan of?