#if anyone has anything to translate to or from polish let me know i need practice lol

[galaxywhump]

Banking entirely on getting accepted into my major of choice feels risky as hell, not gonna lie

[rysko]

Kings of Spades - Part 4 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Summary: Juliusz is stuck in a limbo of not being useful enough to Tommy and, to his inner dismay, impatiently awaiting any 'orders' from the Italians. That changes when he visits a work colleague...

Previous Chapter

Warnings: mentions of drug usage, Peaky-typical swearing and violence, minor death

A/N: It's heeeeere!!! This chapter went through SO. MANY. rewrites. It's mostly a set up for the next few chapters (i cannot wait to share them with yall, there's so many scenes i've been waiting to write :>) I hope ya'll like it. Have fun!

(the occasional use of Polish/Italian will be translated at the end of the chapter, while Polish will be directly translated by me, Italian is with the use of google translate, so sorry if there's any mistakes)

It was a slow morning in the Small Heath office. At this hour, only a few people were clocked in. Thomas and Juliusz, on account of being known early birds (or insomniacs for that matter), were already at their respectful places, getting the first points off their to-do lists. Curly visited for a short while, but only to update Thomas on a newly birthed foal.

“A really nice horse, I’m telling you, Tommy! The beautiful reddish coat she has, and nice strong legs!” He rambles on as both he and Tommy exit his office and walk by Juliusz, assembling some files at the main entrance desk.

“That’s good Curly.” Thomas smiles ever-so-slightly.

“We’re thinking of naming her John, as a tribute.” Curly looks at Thomas in anticipation, clearly more excited than anyone else.

“...How nice.” Thomas chokes back a laugh, glancing at Juliusz in an almost ‘help me’ look. The Pole isn’t having any of it.

“It’s not like the horse cares, unless you’ll call her Esme?” Juliusz smirks at Thomas, then proceeds to throw a small smile in Curlys’ direction.

“Then she’ll come back and butcher us before the Italians do.” Thomas sighs through his cigarette, clearly fighting off a smile. It’s nice to see just a bit of tension ease, especially after yesterday. Thomas damn near interrogated Juliusz after his ‘truce’ meeting with Changretta, only to be left disappointed, and somehow even more paranoid, after he learned that no crucial information has been found out.

He’d never admit it, but some part of Juliusz impatiently waited on a call from the Italians. Where he was right now was a limbo, overwhelmed with emotions from the evening before, mixed with the tense atmosphere of Small Heath all wrapped in… Uncertainty. He didn’t know anything of importance to Tommy, and Changretta was as enigmatic as ever in letting Juliusz know his use. He shook his head to snap himself back into reality as he opened yet another novel-length document from the worker unions, despite his thoughts going everywhere but labour disputes. 

There’s still work to do. He doesn’t need to be glancing at the telephone every minute.

With Curly leaving the office in an almost giddy step, Thomas turns to go back to his duties. With a raise of a heavy document, Juliusz stops him.

“What will you do about Jesse Eden?” The lawyer repeats, it might as well be the 100th time he’d asked his employer that question since the communist representative started sniffing around the Shelby factories.

“What about her?” Tommy stood next to Juliusz’ desk in a relaxed pose, hands in his pockets, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. 

“She’s not making these strikes easy for the company. I thought you’d deal with her already, a revolution is coming.” He plops the file back on the desk and reaches into his jackets’ inner-pocket, taking out his cigarette tin and a pack of matches.

“I thought you were on the workers’ side.” Tommy replies in his usual smug tone, one that he uses whenever he thinks he’s got someone figured out. Juliusz fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I’m a Shelby Company Limited employee first, whatever i believe comes second. I don’t need drunken men frustrated with their life running around the street with guns and bayonets. And i’m sure you don’t as well, Thomas.” He slides the tiny box open to reveal just one match left. The oddly comforting smell of burning sulphur reaches Juliusz’ nose as he lights his cigarette. 

Working for the Shelbys these past few years has been fulfilling, and in some ways he’s been considered part of the family. This deranged, insane, unhinged and frankly dysfunctional family, always within punching distance as well as earshot.

It happened by accident. One minute you’re just a newly hired company lawyer in the Garrison after hours, the other you’re screaming “DUCK” to the oldest Shelby, as Irishmen flood the place with knives in their hands, IRA songs on their lips, and an inconceivable amount of alcohol in their blood. A drunken brawl, which frankly Juliusz wouldn’t expect to go that well, ended in only a few bruises on the brummie side. He rubbed his hands in pain, as he thought that he’s definitely going to regret that throughout the next week. Juliusz’s trance was paused by the first pat on the back of many…

“I knew i knew you from somewhere.” The surprisingly jolly (and honestly, probably as drunk as the Irish on the ground) Arthur Shelby squinted slightly at Juliusz, trying his hardest to pinpoint his face to any he might know. “Me brother hired you, right? From Solomons?”

“I wish i’d get introduced to you under better circumstances, Mr. Shelby.” He greeted him politely, as best as possible, while catching his breath after the fight. His hand reached for a handshake. 

“That’s the best circumstance there is! Just a couple of lads, fighting about.” Arthur slaps Juliusz’s handshake away, only to pat Juliusz’s back again, making some of the broken glass on his shoulders fall off. “Call me Arthur, would ya? You took out this bastard's tooth for me, i’m no Mr.” He kicks a laying man, not sure if it’s a beaten IRA associate, or a Peaky Blinder who's celebrating early by taking a nap on the wooden floors of the Garrison.

“I could go for another right about now.” Arthur looks around for any more fiends he could beat up without any consequences.  “Harry! Have we got any more Irish?!” He shouts, filling the whole room with his voice, despite being only a mere few meters from an unamused barkeep. 

“Only Irish whisky, ‘m afraid.” Harry smiles smugly in Arthur’s direction, looking up from searching for a broom to start cleaning this ruckus with.

“Eh, it’ll do.” He grumbles as he reaches over the bar to grab a bottle. “Do you want any- uh...?” He looks at Juliusz like he’s trying really hard to remember something, his voice now surprisingly polite. The Pole observes him with a curious glance. He’s different than people described him. Sure, unhinged was the right word some workers used. That man is unhinged, but only when the situation calls for it, it appears. There has to be more to that seemingly simple man, and he’s nice enough, Juliusz figures. Not many people wanted to get to know him (not that he complained, at least vocally). A foreigner with a learned London accent probably doesn’t spark a lot of trust. 

“Uh, Juliusz.” He joins his side at the bar, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the Irishmen on the floor, unconscious, and the locals getting back to drinking the day away.

“Yewl…” It’s not rolling off his slightly intoxicated brummie tongue well. “How about Jul?” Arthur suggests as he pours two heaping glasses of whisky, seeming proud of himself and the nickname he thought out.

"Good enough," Juliusz shrugs and tries to fight off a chuckle. 

“You seem like y’don’t get out enough. You’re a Blinder, look like a fookin’ egghead, but a Blinder nonetheless!” They clink their overflowing glasses together, both spilling a bit on the floor and hands. “What do you do in our company anyway?” He takes a big gulp of the whisky.

“I’m the new company lawyer.” Juliusz says, trying his hardest not to sound as excited as he actually is, but his eyes have been sparkling with curiosity and ambition ever since he stepped foot in Small Heath. Sure, most would think London to Birmingham is a downgrade, but going from a law advisor at an illegal ‘bakery’ to a company lawyer in a successful, legal business is quite the leap, at least for him.

“Oh jesus, an egghead, i was right.” Arthur choked-laughed on his drink, while Juliusz responded with a raised eyebrow, wanting to signal annoyance, but couldn’t help laughing along with the oldest Shelby. “I have to take you out to drinks with Michael, this kid’s right up your alley. John too, a bit less in your alley, but he’s a fun bloke, and also…” Arthur rambled on, and Juliusz surprisingly found himself listening. With a small smile on his lips, he reaches for his matches, and lights his and Arthurs’ cigarettes.

“I’m taking care of it.” Thomas tries to shut down the conversation.

“In what fashion, exactly?” Juliusz’ tone is starting to sound annoyed. Can’t Tommy for once in his life not speak in half-assed riddles? “I can take care of it if you need me to. I’m sure we can find something on her.”

“I’m planning to meet Miss Eden and discuss the whole dispute, and come to a conclusion that benefits us both.” Thomas says the whole plan directly to the wall, words spewing out of his mouth with grey smoke, not even appearing to consider his employees’ offer. Juliusz studies him for a few seconds.

“That’s a very long way of saying you’re going to stop the strikes with your cock.” He points his hand lazily in Tommy’s direction, cigarette held between his middle and ring fingers.

“Did Ada tell you that?” Tommy finally looks at him, then makes a sound which can only be described as something between a chuckle and a scoff.

“No. Has she told you something similar?” Juliusz raises an eyebrow whilst taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’ve always thought she’s very bright.” He lets out. Something inside him tells him he should let go and stop his remarks, but he’s frankly too annoyed with Thomas and too stressed to let it out in any other way.

“It just works.” Tommy breathes out.

“Thank God most judges are repulsive old men, you’d have put me out of a job otherwise.” He smiles smugly. Thomas only responds with a prolonged, empty stare.

“Did anyone call?” Tommy changed the subject, clearly done with whatever their conversation was up until now. 

“No one you’d find important.” Juliusz sighs, deflating slightly. Closing his eyes, only opening them to look at the telephone again.

“If they do-” 

“I will! For gods’ sake.” He snaps back, his hands tightening into fists. Tommy doesn’t seem impressed, his icy blue eyes seem to change in a way, as if switching approaches. 

“I have an appointment with Ms. Ross in a bit, let her in when she comes.” His tone is fake casual, as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray resting atop Juliusz’s desk. Tommy leaves in the direction of his office just after that.

“What am i? Your secretary now?” Juliusz whispers-shouts after him, not earning a response. 

“Niewiarygodne.” He mutters to the now empty room, his only companion being the ever-present floating dust that came with the betting board. He sighs and buries his head in the crook of his elbow, only to immediately glance at the phone in anticipation.

.

.

.

. 

.

Silence. What is he even expecting?

Juliusz takes a deep breath. His fists are shaking slightly. This time, he’s not sure if it’s the stress or his body asking for some more snow, even if he promised himself he’d use it less, out of necessity. It could be his hands acting out, again. He closes his eyes tightly.

Pull yourself together. 

An otherwise soft hand riddled with faint freckles and birthmarks, and a big, jagged scar going through it’s back, reaches towards the stack of paperwork once more.

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

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Juliusz was suddenly taken out of his work trance by the sound of the front door opening. Glancing at his watch, he saw that only an hour has passed, still early, for most. 

Out of the corner, he saw the frail figure of a woman, who after a brief moment of thought he recognised as Ms. Ross. She looked quiet and unassuming, almost like a mouse. Juliusz signed the last piece of documentation with a swift motion of a fountain pen, before standing up from his chair. Ms. Ross looked around the office warily, before her gaze rested on the lawyer that stuck his head out of his office.

“Can i help you?” He stepped in her direction, straightening his jacket.

“Oh. Yes, you can. Where can i find Mr. Shelbys’ office? I’ve got an appointment.” She asks, but seemed on edge, though Juliusz couldn’t blame her. Civilians hardly ever relax in the vicinity of the Peaky Blinders, especially Thomas.

“It’s just straight on, there’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.” He nodded in the general direction of Tommy’s working space, shooting her a polite smile, to which she responded with a nervous grin and a rushed ‘thankyou’ as she headed for Thomas’ office. He saw her off with his gaze, then proceeded to look around the Small Heath office, people steadily turning in and starting business, mostly revolving around betting. All his paperwork for the day was done, he was only needed for a meeting in one of the factories, yet he still felt like he forgot to do something. Another look at his watch reminded him, midday. Michael should be able to answer the phone right about now.

With a quick spin and the hospital address, he waited next to the mounted telephone, leaning against the wooden, dusty walls.

“...Yes?” Rang a voice from the other side. 

“Michael, hey.” Juliusz put the speaker against his shoulder nad cheek. “How’ve you been?”

“Julius! Better, i guess.” Juliusz heard something that seemed like someone getting up from the rusty hospital beds. “Haven’t heard from you in a bit, old man.” 

 “Old man?” He laughed. “I’d like to see you call Thomas that, i’m barely his age.” 

“He’s my supervisor,” Michael quips. “We’re basically equals, Company Accountant, Company Lawyer.” He drags on, his tone visibly amused.

“Equals? Don’t forget who helped you study for your Worcester course, because it damn well wasn’t Tommy.” 

“I still don’t know what i need risk analysis for.” 

“That’s what I thought in university as well. And i haven’t used it since.” Both laughed, Michael’s voice disturbed from time-to-time by the telephone signal. “Uh, listen, i’m calling to ask you. Is it fine if i come by tomorrow?” Juliusz changed his position, now more hunched over the telephone.

“Fine? Sure you can, yeah. The only people that come visit me are mum and Thomas, and both pester me about me having to rest, not work.” This earned an eye-roll from the lawyer, it seemed like everything Michael did was work. He didn’t blame the kid for having ambitions or being loyal to the company, but he didn’t want Michael to get all his life-satisfaction out of work. He knew that all-too-well.

“Because they’re right. You got shot. I’ll only bring a few things you need to sign, but other than that, i’ll bring you nothing but my fun-loving spirit.” Juliusz said, sarcastically.

“Sure, you will.” Michael chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Would you bring me some whisky? I haven’t-”

“No. I know what kinds of pills they’ve got you on.” His voice turned stern, with a mix of concern. “You can’t mix that with alcohol, even i know that. It’s like snow.” 

“Speaking of which, will you need any?” Michael asked with genuine intent, casually, as if he’s telling his colleague about a cigarette. 

Out of a corner of his eye, he could see Ms. Ross leaving the office, pale as paper.

“...No, i’ve stopped.” He was met with silence from Michael. Juliusz sighed. “Really, this time.”

“That’s good Jul, i won’t tell you anything.” There’s a silence for a few seconds, then Michael says again, softer. “How about some Morphine? For your hands, i’m sure i can sneak some from the nurses.” 

“Oh no, i’ve heard what Morphine did for Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “I’ll be fine Michael, don’t get into trouble on my behalf. You worry about yourself kid.” 

“Tommorow?” 

“Yeah, i’ll see you.”

Like clockwork, Thomas rushed out of his office, almost as if experiencing tunnel-vision, only coming to a halt when he sees Juliusz put down the telephone receiver. Before he could even say a word, the lawyer stopped him.

“It was Michael.” Juliusz tried his best not to sound annoyed, which didn’t work almost immediately when Thomas gave him one of his empty, blue stares, which usually meant calculating distrust. “Fucking hell, shall i call him again and let you ask him yourself?” He remarked, in an ironic, tired tone. He felt like he’s a teenager with overbearing parents. Only Juliusz isn’t dealing with a worried mother, but a grown man.

“Very well then.” Tommy said in one big exhale. “Do you know where Arthur is?"

“Haven’t seen him today, i’d call the other office if i were you.”

“I’ll go there.” He nods, immediately turning to leave. There was something about the way he was acting. Rushing step, wider, more alert eyes. 

“What’s happening?” Juliusz takes a step after Thomas, confused. “What did Ms. Ross want?”

“Nothing important. I’m dealing with business.” He raises his hand as if to signal ‘stop’.

“What kind of business?” 

“Blinder business.” Tommy reaches for the door and opens it, looking over his shoulder. “Nothing important to you.” 

The door closes with a silent click, leaving the office almost devoid of sound. Juliusz takes a deep breath, releases it, and after a moment, puts down the telephone speaker way harder than he should’ve.

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

God, he hates this office. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Small Heath, everything about it, except this old betting shop turned office. He’s worked here temporarily only two times. Once, when the plumbing in the Company offices made the floors flood with sewage, and since the Italians came to town. Somehow, Thomas seems more full of shit now than then. 

Juliusz packs the last things he needs for the hospital and checks the clock, almost an hour to go. Just as he was finishing packing up for his visit at the hospital when, just as yesterday, Thomas stopped by his desk on his way out the office.

“Where are you going?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, but when his remark is met with the same icy stare, Juliusz sighs. “I’m visiting Michael in the hospital.” Thomas only nods and turns to leave without a word, again.

“Where are you going?!” Juliusz bitches after Thomas, frustrated and angry.

“Business.” This time he doesn’t even look at him, too occupied by whatever’s on his mind, which looking at him, you could immediately deduct the ‘Shelby mastermind’ was hard at work in that brain of his.

“Oh fuck off, what if i need to reach you?” He glanced at the telephone, not sure if willingly. “What if they call?”

“They won’t.” He says over his shoulder, making Juliusz even more perplexed. “Close the office after yourself, will ya?” And there he went, and Juliusz felt like he’s the crazy one. Is he the crazy one, or is Thomas slowly rubbing off of him?

It took everything in him not to release his frustration on the poor flowers Linda helped him pick out for Michael. Instead, his walk to the hospital took him ten minutes, instead of the usual twenty.

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

He pushed the door open with his back into the sterile, but oddly home-y room. The strong strands of sunshine rested atop the wooden table, hospital bed, and Michael himself, who immediately upon hearing the door open looked up from a file.

“I come in and see you working again, i’ll burn those reports in the chimney.” He sighed as he laid out both his briefcase and a large paper bag on the table, along with a small bouquet of flowers. Michael slowly approached the table and sat down, immediately inspecting the mix of dandelions, yellow roses and sunflower petals.

“These are nice, but i’m afraid i like you only as a friend.” The younger man said with a teasing grin, but still put the bouquet next to the ones his mother and other coworkers gave him.

“Very funny.” Juliusz rolled his eyes, but still chuckled. “Whatever will my foolish heart do, the man twelve years my junior doesn’t reciprocate my very true and real feelings.” He exaggerated a theatrical speech, receiving a laugh from Michael.

“What’s there?” He points to Juliusz’s briefcase. 

“Some documents regarding the budget, you only need to sign them.” He hands them to Michael, figuring it’s better to get the ‘official’ part of his visit over as soon as possible. The boy signs them one-by-one with identical motions of his pen, then slides them back to Juliusz. “Thank you.” The lawyer says, stuffing them back where he took them from.

“Here, they’re from my mum.” Michael tosses him a red-green apple, which Juliusz barely catches. “Uh, the other mum.” 

“Oh my god, these are delicious.” He’s not sure if they’re that good, or if his body will accept any kind of breakfast as an ambrosia. He takes another bite, nope, they’re that good.

“I know!” Michael bites into one as well. “You can’t get something like this from the city anymore, they don’t smell like coal.” 

“True.” Juliusz nods. “The city ones aren’t as juicy.” 

Silence, a pleasant one, for the first time since that drink with Changretta, which says a lot about what kind of tension was rising in the office. Michael looked as if he was internally debating something, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows, which year-by-year grows thicker.

“Tommy came by recently.” He blurts out finally, looking to the side. Oh, that makes sense. He’d have to know sooner or later, Thomas must have taken it upon himself.

“He told you?” Juliusz was almost sure he knew what Michael meant. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “How’ve you been getting on with the Italians?” There seems to be the smallest glimpse of concern in Michael’s tone. He leans forward in his chair, but tries not to disturb his wound too much.

“Somehow better than with Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “He seems so paranoid around me now, how can i actually help when i don’t know anything? Not to mention that i haven’t been able to give the Italians anything more than he permits me to, useless documentation that Changretta doesn’t even need.” His fidgeting with the apple stem makes it snap.

“What did you want from Changretta in exchange for Tommy?” he throws the apple core in a bin nearby. “From the Italians’ perspective, at least.” The smallest of smirks appears on his lips. 

“...My life. My name was on a bullet.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Juliusz didn’t want to say anything about Michael or anyone else being involved in his ‘truce’ with Changretta. They don’t have to know, the only thing that matters is that they’re safe for the time being. “It isn’t anymore, for now.” As if on instinct, he put his hand in his jacket’s inner-pocket, along with the tin cigarette holder and a pack of matches, the cool sensation of a bullet stood out. He took out the cigarettes, only to be stopped by Michael. 

“You can only smoke on their balcony.” He nods towards the nurses’ room. “How about you go and I look at what else you got for me here?” Michael winks and reaches into the brown bag on the table, his eyes widening when he sees the whisky bottle hidden between some clothes Polly packed for him and a few treats.

“Hey, that’s only if you don’t drink it after taking your meds, got it?” Juliusz slaps Michael’s hand away as he stood up.

“Mhm.” He hums, still looking at the amber bottle like he’d definitely drink it the second Juliusz turns his back. A stern glare from the Pole makes Michael roll his eyes. “Yes, i won’t drink it after the pills. You're the best.” Juliusz nods approvingly and takes one last big bite from the apple.

“You wouldn't say that if i didn't get it for you, you brat.” He says with his mouth full. "I'll be back."

“Some of the nurses here are really nice, chat one of them up, i’m not going anywhere.” Michael takes this opportunity to rest his feet on Juliusz’s chair, already ogling the work-related papers. 

The balcony in the nurses room was fortunately open to all visitors, looking over the back of the hospital. The last nurse on break was a clearly overworked middle-aged lady, for whom he was happy to light the cigarette. Even more so when she had no intention of initiating conversation or offering any unnecessary and costly treatment. As Juliusz slowly enjoyed his cigarette, his mind wandered back to the peculiar item in his pocket.

Hm, at least they spelt it correctly, was the first thought he had when Juliusz held up the bullet, the sun reflecting its gold-brown metal and grey scratches. He rubbed his thumb along the bullet, before hiding it again. He looked up at the sky.

Is it midday already?

BAM!

Juliusz, as if on instinct, ducked and covered his head.

.

.

.

Nothing. After the shot, the hospital was surprisingly quiet, only the sound of a few footsteps, crash of a door, and the muffled cries of the nurse next to him. The footsteps ceased just next door.

Oh no.

Michael.

He shushed the nurse and took out a small handgun out the holster strapped to the small of his back. Out of the balcony, he had to force himself not to sprint and bash into Michael’s room. Warily, he made his way down the corridor, passing next to a shot Peaky Blinder. The bright wall behind the poor man now a glistening, bloody mess. The smell of fresh blood was sickening, Juliusz looked away and took a deep breath, just like they taught him. Just as he approached Michael’s door, he heard muffled voices, more accurately, A muffled voice. He slowly comes closer, as he hears whoever was inside approach to the exit

Step He raises his gun to eye-level.

Step He focuses on a spot where a person would have their head.

Step, click He takes a breath as he hears the door open-

Step- A figure steps out, he disables the safety with a loud click, which makes the man perk up. An all-too-familiar man. It’s Changretta, Luca motherfucking Changretta. He slowly raises his hands, but doesn’t seem too bothered by the gun pointed at him. Juliusz could swear that for a brief moment, Changretta appeared surprised to see him, only to once again put on his usual smug demeanour.

“Ferenz! Fancy seeing you here.” He stepped forward, motioning the other men he was with to follow. “I was actually gonna call, but-”

“We had a fucking deal.” He growled 

“And it’s not broken, the boy’s fine.” Changretta vaguely motioned in the direction of Michael’s room. Loud voices rang outside the hospital, sounding like people trying to break the hospital’s doors open. “Now if you wanna shoot me, be my fucking guest, but do it now before your idiot friends get here.” Juliusz came forward and shoved the Italian back a step, and looked inside the boys’ room. Michael was fine, merely shook, looking between his friend and the Italian at his gunpoint. He could just shoot him, be done with it. Everyone would be happy. Yet, when he imagined the blood splatter from the Italian’s head, and the life drain from his already dark eyes, his body at the place of the man he passed in the corridor, he felt a tug inside himself, and couldn't find on what to blame it for this time. Ferenz sighed and took his finger off the trigger.

God, why is he so weak

“Go.” He stepped back and nodded at the corridor. He felt angry, not sure if at himself or the smug bastard in front of him, who took his granted freedom and used it to rush forward where Juliusz motioned.

“You’re goin’ too.” As Changretta passed him, Juliusz felt a tug, this time at his shoulder when he was basically dragged along with the Italians.

“What?!” He basically shouted as they sprinted across the corridors, though he was less sprinting, and more being pulled to their step.

“I need you for something, c’mon.”

“Why? What does ‘something’ mean?” Juliusz finally twists himself from Changrettas grip, but still running side by side with him. “What did you want with Michael?” They pressed their backs against the corridor wall, just before two turns, left and right.

“This and other fascinating questions will be answered in the car, my friend.” Luca replied as he looked around both corners. “Now don’t get your panties in a twist. Which way?” 

“Oh go fuck yourself.” Juliusz muttered. “Left.” He followed up immediatly, which was only met with a chuckle from Changretta as they ran for the exit, with a black Rolls Royce already waiting for them.

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

If someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d spend his afternoon squished between two Italians in the backseat of a car, he’d laugh at you, or maybe he’d assume you meant a totally different kind of encounter, which would also be paired with a laugh. 

But now, with the man on his left, Matteo and the nuisance on his right, who was in the middle of reading a newspaper, Juliusz truly felt like fate is a very bored man dead-set on making his life hell. Maybe if Matteo didn’t confiscate his gun the second they were out of the hospitals’ viscinity, Juliusz would again briefly think of shooting both of them, or himself, he hadn’t yet decided.

“Will you finally answer my question?” Juliusz mutters, still looking ahead, arms crossed. The outside view of endless forest didn’t entertain him that much, but it was still better than awkward eye-contact with Matteo or glaring at Luca.

“Which one?” Changretta says, turning to another page of the newspaper.

“Where the hell are we going?” He finally turns to look at the Italian.

“To a place Darby let us use, not far. There’s business in London i’ll need you for.” He drawled. “You know Sabini’s and Solomon’s businesses?”

“Solomons’ more than Sabinis, but yes.” Juliusz sighs, pushing up his glasses. “What about Michael?”

“Nice kid.” Changretta muses, flicking the match he was biting down on between his teeth and lips, and Juliusz faught the urge to snap it in half.

“You know damn well what i’m asking you.” 

“You’re not the only one who put Tommy’s neck on the line for him.” Changretta meets his gaze as well. “I just came by to let him know we have a deal.” At first, Juliusz had no idea what Luca was insinuating, but a brief moment later, it’s as if a light turned on in his head. Polly… This doesn’t surprise him, which is odd, because Polly has a strong habit of surprising him. Juliusz pushes the thought aside, he’ll confront her or Michael later.

“You better leave him out of this.” 

“It’s his mother and you who i’m dealing with, that’s enough.” He takes the match and tosses it out the car window.

That seemed to be the end of that conversation, though a few glances at Changretta made Julliusz think something was on his mind. Then again, almost always when he saw him the Italian appeared so. Either somber and toned down, or smug and calculating. Something about his expression, the way he grimaced, stared, or even fidgeted with that damn piece of wood made him appear like he’s distracting himself from something. And just when he thought he was being discreet, Luca’s dark eyes met his green ones. Looking away would just be admitting defeat now. Changretta seems to be considering something, then throws Juliusz a smug smile.

“Back at the hospital, why didn’t you shoot me? Didn’t have it in you?”

“Are you…teasing me for not blowing your head off?” His eyebrows furrow. “If someone has to kill you, let it be one of the Shelbys, it’s none of my concern.” Somehow, this response appeared to satisfy Changretta, who turned to his right-hand-man.

 “Matteo.” His voice changed in a way, even though that usually happens when changing languages, Juliusz couldn’t help but pay close attention, as if he could read the foreign meanings off his lips. “Hai i documenti?” 

 “Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto-” He wasn’t sure what he said, but judging from the way Matteo glanced at Juliusz with every word, he could safely assume the Italian didn’t have much trust towards the Pole.

“Just fucking give ‘em.” Changretta makes a motion with his hand that Juliusz would only describe as so very italian. Matteo shrugs and reaches under his seat. 

“Here.” A stack of documents and folders, some looking like they’ve been through better times than this plop onto his lap. “Take it.” Luca taps the files with a ringed finger.

“Why?” Juliusz questions, but still takes the files and quickly skims through the first few. Financial outputs of Italian-owned clubs in London, copies of shares of the South England racetracks, even tax reports. “Why do you have these?”

“I’m planning on making Sabini an offer he can’t resist.” He grins. “I need you to draw up a contract for me. 100% of his businesses, to my family.”

“Don’t you have lawyers for this?” 

“I do, i’m sitting next to him.” Changretta responds nonchalantly, turning his face away from the lawyer, looking out the window.

He actually has a task now. 

He took it as an opportunity to get a closer look. This was everything legitimate Sabini holds record of having, earning or spending. That’s the problem though, Juliusz noticed, it’s only everything legal Sabini has to offer. Not thinking twice, he nudges Changretta, not even looking at him, nose still buried deep in the documentation. 

“You don’t have everything.”

“Hm?” The noise makes him think that Changretta may have just been taken out of a daydream.

“I know Sabini owns a lot more properties and businesses than meets the eye. He just owns them through different people and companies, for tax purposes. I’d know, we do it as well.” He opens one of the tax reports, pointing at a company name, one of their ‘brother companies’, functioning only to hold assets for Sabini. “If you want the entire Sabini empire, i’ll need their papers as well.”

“...” Luca takes a moment to look between Juliusz and what he’s pointing out, then takes the document out of his hands, skimming it through. “Consider it done.” He closes it and gives it back to Juliusz, the sound of his approval oddly satisfying to the lawyer.

“Great.” 

“You got until tomorrow, that good?” Luca raises an eyebrow at him.

“Perfect.” For a while, Juliusz tried to put down the papers and leave them until he comes back home, but not a second later turns to Luca. “Do you have a pen?”

“Matteo?” 

“Pencil only.” The Italian takes out a small pencil out of his jacket.

“Even better.” He clarified whilst arranging the documents in a different, more organised order. When Matteo passed him a comically tiny pencil, he let out a fast ‘thankyou’ and in the blink of an eye transformed his part of the backseat into a pile of papers. Now this was where he shined, a horrendously boring reading for most, exciting underlining for him. Everything to be used for later when he’s back at his desk. As odd as it may be, finally getting a task from the Italians is satisfying, and later he’ll have something to tell Thomas to make him happy. He worked with the smallest of smiles on his face. In the fervor of dates, taxes and company shares, Juliusz didn’t even notice Changretta looking at him. From his fingers shuffling page to page like a dealer handling cards, or how his eyes raced left-to-right as he read, there seems to be something endearing in someone who’s in their element. Luca opened his newspaper again, but didn't continue reading it.

Now, if someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d possibly spend his afternoon trying to move a wagon with some Italians, he’d laugh at you as well.

Yet there he was, getting out of the car as Changretta threw a “C’mon poindexter, try not to break your glasses” in his direction, which, at this point, Juliusz didn’t even bother to grace with a talkback. 

Winter hadn’t dwelled harshly in the Birmingham area, if he didn't know any better, he'd assume it was typical gloomy authumn. Though the dirt road underneath them crackled as if not so long ago it had been completely frozen.

“What’s this?” Matteo walked up front. “Whose wagon is that?” He got immediately stopped by the policeman, as if this trashed wagon is somehow a sensitive crime scene.

“They’re gypsies.” he blurted out. “Tribe of fucking gypsies.”

An alarm rang inside Juliusz’s head, something surely wasn’t right. The tussle between Matteo and the lawman didn’t help ease whatever was hanging in the air.

“I said that it’ll be clear in 20 minutes.”

Something definitely isn’t right. He glanced at Luca and was met with a similar look. Both men seemingly having a smililar gut feeling.

"Let's go." He nodded in the direction of the car. "We'll find another way outta here."

When the man he got introduced to before as 'Frankie' hadn't started the car yet, they just assumed he couldn't hear them. The second time Luca called out to him, they thought there must have been something wrong with him and/or the car.

With his head leaned back, exposing the cleanily slit neck, crimson, already slowly clogging blood oozing out of it, chaos erupted.

Shots fired just above their heads, some putting holes in the Italians' hats as they got out of the car to fight back.

Juliusz pressed his back against the Rolls Royce, heart pounding as he realised just what was happening. Aberama Gold, thats what was happening.

Another Italian fell to the ground, while more bullets pierced the cars' body. Bullets whistled in the air just like they did all these years ago.

Gold must be here from the order of Tommy. The Blinders must have known Juliusz went with the Italians. Tommy must have known. Why were they ambushing them with him right there, when-

Something cold pressed against his palm. He looked down. Changretta is giving Juliusz his gun back.

"Cover me, yeah?" His voice was raised, with more than an ounce of panic in it, cracking at places.

He didn't need to be asked twice, he's not dying out of friendly fire from the Golds anytime soon. Juliusz takes a deep breath, and sticked his head out slightly, shooting wherever he saw movement, not to kill, but to scare off and buy Luca the few seconds he needed to get the car running.

"DUCK!" Juliusz shouted when he saw Gold's son aim a shot clearly meant for Luca as he was trying to get to the steering wheel. It just ended up a bullet in Frankies' already dead brain.

Never before would he think he'd be so relieved to hear an engine turn on.

With Changretta maneuvering the car out of the bridge, and with Matteo and Juliusz emptying their magazines to hell, they barely made it out the forest and into a typical, empty english field.

They damn near fell out the car when Luca stopped the engine. The only sound being the distressed and tired breaths of three men after a brief date with death.

Then, you could hear the music of two Italian men shouting at eachother, and one Polish man puking his guts out on the side of the road.

"Holy shit." Juliusz drew a sharp breath as he wiped his lips, trying his best to compose himself after the initial adrenaline started to wear off. "Kurwa mać." He could hear the italians slowly calm as well.

"Fuck, you alright?" Luca calls out to him.

"Yeah, fucking peachy." He wheezes out, exhausted, not sure if more mentally or physically, or both, probably.

"They got two of ours." Matteo pointed in the direction of the woods they drove out of. "What do we do?" This question seemed to put Changretta even more on edge, frustration gradually building up.

"CAZZO!" He kicked the car, luckily it being so beyond repair, it didn't seem to mind. Luca ran his hand through his hair, now noticing he has lost his hat somwhere in the middle of the ordeal. "All right, change of fuckin' plans. Ferenz, you still got that contract to make. Go back to Small Heath, we'll have time for business, i'll call you." He points at Juliusz, not appearing to be asking, but telling. The Pole didn't have it in him to argue at this point.

"I need to make a phonecall to our dear friend Polly." Luca handed Juliusz the files out of the car, still holding them when the other man tries to take them. "Be safe." He lets go.

As he got dropped off at a safe distance, instead of heading to a place like home, preferably into the arms of his bed and a hefty bottle of whisky, he turned to Small Heath, where he'll kick Thomas' Shelbys' fucking teeth in.

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

Translations:

Niewiarygodne - Unbelievable

Hai i documenti? - Do you have the documents?

Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto - Do you want to use HIM for this? Luca, with respect-

Kurwa mać - Fucking Hell

Cazzo - Fuck

[airbendertendou]

s/o w a non-sexual oral fixation ♥︎ [including mikey, draken, yuzuha & senju]

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

MIKEY ♥︎ tbh i can see him being the same ♥︎ he always needs something sweet in his mouth if he isnt talking ♥︎ has gotten into the habit of bringing your favorite candy with him everywhere! ♥︎ if you’re like me n chew on things you shouldnt [cuticles n lip skin] he notices n yanks your hand away from your mouth to put a piece of candy in there  ♥︎ has mitsuya n draken carry your fave candies too! ♥︎ no one in toman allows anyone to say anything mean to you abt your habits <3 [baji has put someone in the hospital before when they called you a baby for sucking on a lollipop ♥︎]

DRAKEN ♥︎ has literally dealt w this before bc of mikey lmao ♥︎ always holding your hand so you cant mindlessly chew on it!  ♥︎ someone once made a lil sexual ““joke”“ abt your habit n they were on the ground before you could even blink ♥︎ you literally were jus saring down at them w this giant seething half-bald guy behind you menacingly  ♥︎ knows to keep your mouth busy when you’re bored or not talking ♥︎ has helped you out so much ):  ♥︎ i also grind my teeth all the time so i can see him like squeezing your cheeks until you stop or else your jaw will b sore

YAZUHA ♥︎ challenges you to eat spicy food w her stinky older brother ♥︎ you win bc taiju sucks <3 n you get a kiss on the cheek from her so win, win! ♥︎ has bought you so many different brands / flavors of lip balm to stop your teeth from ruining your lips  ♥︎ tries new lollipop flavors before giving them to you bc her fave must b the one you like more ♥︎ also paints your nails if you bite them! nail polish does not taste nice, youve discovered ♥︎ made hakkai start carrying around some lil treats for you when you come around n she isnt home <3

SENJU ♥︎ makes you drink ice cold water before shoving mint gum in your mouth ):< ♥︎ says its to stop you from self destructive chewing but tbh jus wanted to laugh at you! ♥︎ also chews on candy when her mind is elsewhere ♥︎ gave you personal permission to steal wakasa’s lollipops <3 [he buys you both your own bag off-handedly but you can see him watching you fondly ):] ♥︎ takeomi now has to watch after the two of you n hes got such a headache lmao ♥︎ has choked on a piece of gum mid-fight before so she makes sure you always spit it out n take precautions 

i know this wasnt properly written out but i hope its okay! i also took an oral stimming route on this lmao thank you for your request ♥︎ 

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[poprostuhuman]

[Baldurs Gate 3] The Worst Monster in the service of the Most Beautiful Star

"Instead, he wished to turn to dust anyone who had ever harmed him. To sacrifice them to his father, so that he would have mercy on his son and bless their relationship."

A short one-shot about Dark Urge and Ascended Astarion.

He fell in love with the star. Small, by name, but in reality, the biggest and most shining, despite the surrounding darkness. Darkness that has always been Roderic's best friend, but when he first felt the chill of Astarion's blade on his neck and cold breath on cheek, the entire drow's attention focused on this most beautiful of stars.

The vampire was like a forbidden fruit, one Roderic wasn't afraid to reach for – he eagerly got intoxicated by its taste, let it take over all his senses, he transferred all his devotion onto him, as if Astarion were a god and Roderic his most faithful priest. He felt no need to apologize to his father for worshiping this creature. Bhaal was nothing compared to the lips that sucked the life out of him, drop by drop, day by day.

At first, he was only attracted to what was on the outside: a beautiful body, hands bringing death, a tongue speaking charming words. Over time, however, he became enamored with the darkness in the no longer beating heart, the pain shining in the scarlet eyes, the gentle sincerity of the smile.

Such individuals usually amused him - perfect prey for his eternally hungry Urge. But with Astarion, it was different. He desired to keep these vulnerabilities only for himself, to admire a being created from pain and despair, which, ironically, seemed so... alive. In the past, he had fallen in love with Death, but since chaos had taken over his mind, he suddenly yearned for its fruit. A living undead with cold lips that ignited the insides.

So beautiful. So sensitive.

Yet he didn't want to destroy him. Instead, he wished to turn to dust anyone who had ever harmed him. To sacrifice them to his father, so that he would have mercy on his son and bless their relationship.

He loved Astarion in entirety, but he had to admit that his heart beat stronger when, in the name of the Little Star, seven thousand sacrifices were made. When it wasn't him, the Prince of Murder, who crushed Cazador's skull, but the man was sacrificed so that his "child" would be exalted above all vampires.

At that moment, he couldn't take eyes off him. He was so beautiful. So powerful. So... evil. Craving everything that was rightfully his. Everything Roderic wanted to give him. And although his weaknesses hid deep in darkened heart, the bard knew they were still there. He still sensed them, even if they tried to hide at any cost.

However, he didn't try to expose them to the sunlight. He loved the Star as he was. For Astarion, Roderic was willing to do anything. Give up his body. Give up his mortality. Seat him on a throne of bones and pray to him, as he once did to his father.

The Most Beautiful of Stars had The Worst Of Monsters in his service.

This one-shot is a translation from my Polish version.

I hope you liked it. Let me know if you want!

Have a nice day/night!

Ps. if you noticed any mistakes, let me know too!

[kagedbird]

Ao3 20 questions!

Tagged by: @azures-grace I tag: @bamsara @argisthebulwark and anyone else! (I can't remember who writes solely on Tumblr or not, sorry for not tagging you if you do write on Ao3 as well!!)

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

-Currently 16.

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

-Currently 800,424. (Will change for sure on the 15th haha.)

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

-Skyrim, Five Nights at Freddy's / Security Breach, Undertale, Divinity Original Sin 2, and Baldur's Gate 3.

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

-Precious People, Four Makes a Family, That Little Thread, My Neighbor Mr. Roboto, and Forgive Me, for I Have Sinned. (Greatest to least in the top five.)

5 – Do you respond to comments?

-I try to respond to every comment I can, but some I just don't know how to respond to! I'm mentally kissing every commenter on the head though. Mwah.

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

-Angstiest ending? I don't know if I've ended anything super angsty, despite my love for the genre. I prefer hurt/comfort. Can't say I can answer this one.

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

-Oh, That Little Thread for sure. But only because TESSDE isn't remotely finished haha. But I'm still very proud of how TLT came out. :)

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

-I have had a stray hate comment here and there, but I just meme and dab on the haters until they die from their own cringeness. #HatersLoveMe

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

-...The smut kind? I'm not sure I understand. Read 'You're a Feisty One, Aren't You? I Like That', if you need specifics, I guess. (Only if you are above age obviously.)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

-Oh my god I used to on FFNET. I don't think it's crazy, but even before I discovered FFNET, my friend got me into writing crossovers, and it was a massive Inuyasha, Fruits Basket, Code Geass, and Death Note combination with self inserts. I miss it, it was a good stupid time, haha.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

-I've had people try to tell me they can't get writing down correctly, and oh, would you mind helping me write this out? What about this? Until slowly I'm literally writing their story and they're POSTING IT ONLINE. ON Ao3/FFNET. LIKE. A PARAGRAPH AT A TIME.

INSANITY.

But also I was one of the first few people who had the Ao3 scalpers target their fics, but I have no idea if someone is out there on Wattpad or something using my shit. I don't self search, so I do not know.

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

-Nope!

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

-Yes! Not on Ao3 though. (Ah good old days of middle school and writing dumb things with friends.)

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

-I'm a self shipper by trade, I'll admit it. But I was a very big Sesshoumaru / Kagome shipper in my baby years. Now I lean more towards Loid / Yor. Love those idiots.

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

-TOO MAN TO NAME. I REGRET LEAVING ANY FIC UNDONE, BUT I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO GO BACK. The past is in the past and it's time is over, unfortunately.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

-Focusing on characterizations and researching accuracies for making things logical not only in the fantasy realm but also reality. I love combining the two and giving people a little educational lesson along side their story time. It pleases me to teach others new things and myself. I also think my pacing has gotten a lot better over the years.

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

-I tend to structure things differently than most people, and genuine writing formats— even using em dashes, I never learned until this year the difference between it and a hyphen— so it comes across as lesser than other people's writing, I think. Less polished. I like bouncing things around textually, having breaks in spots to let the mind "breathe" in between words or phrases to try and give it a bigger impact, but it weakens actual structures sometimes.

That and word choices. I'll be stuck for ages on what word to use. I hate repeating words or phrases, so it'll take me longer than necessary to just choose a damn word.

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

-I've done it many times and think it's fine! I use translators because I am unfortunately only educated in English (and my brain has difficulties learning other languages), but I try my best and do ask around friends if things are accurate if they speak the language.

If you're not sure what it says, just translate it through a friend or Google. Or, read the bottom AN to see if the author translated it for you. I grew up with American's using broken Japanese in their fanfics, you think I'd see dual languages any different? Lol.

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

-Inuyasha? Naruto? Crossover? I don't remember!

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

-Biased. 'The Elder Scrolls Skyrim: DragonBard Edition', otherwise known as TESSDE. It's my bread and butter, my longest length story, and one I would die to complete. We're technically half way there in terms of arcs, but definitely not in chapters, haha. I look forward to the day it's complete, and I hope others enjoy it too.

-

Below are the questions to copy and paste for yourself!

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 – Do you respond to comments?

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16 – What are your writing strengths?

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

[classicslesbianopinions]

Hi, I am an undergrad classics student in my 6th year. Had lots of failings and barely making it atm. I want to get better and I really want to engage with the subjects and everything but I didn't have a good high school education so basically have no clue about the general outline of studying and being a student. My profs aren't any help and my uni is the only one with a classics major in my country. How does one become a better classicist? What do I do? I feel very lost.

oh nooo i’m sorry anon. classics can be really inaccessible sometimes, and i will say like i had a great high school education but i have never spent more time studying for anything than i spent studying for greek tests in undergrad. i don’t know what it’s like in your country/at your uni but like. it can be a really brutal field and it is even harder if you don’t have a background in latin or greek going in or if you’ve got any kind of societal disadvantage or if literally any extenuating circumstances come up while you’re doing your degree.

so i guess first i’d say that it’s okay that you’re struggling, it’s not your fault the field is super inaccessible, and don’t let anyone make you feel inadequate. a lot of people have a lot of advantages going in that it sounds like you didn’t have, and you’re truly doing your best with what you’ve got. which is amazing in itself.

i am honestly myself absolutely terrible at studying, but what works for me is often using quizlet or memrise to make flash cards and really drilling with those. sometimes you can find a set someone else has made too. another good strategy is copying out the stuff you need to study onto another sheet of paper— writing stuff helps it stick in your brain. and then challenging yourself to summarize the material without looking can help too.

and learning to take my time reading and really look for details etc was something that really helped me in high school! i usually underline in my texts which works if you own yours and don’t mind writing in books, but you can also take notes on a separate sheet of paper or use sticky notes inside the book.

if you’ve got the sort of language test where you have to sight translate a random passage of a work, unfortunately the best way i know of to study is just to translate the whole section the test might cover, which honestly always took me an unreasonable amount of time (but again i’m awful at studying so it might be a very normal amount of time and i just am not good at time management in general). my professor would tell me to translate it once with the dictionary and once without but i never had time for that second translation. but also the first translation with the dictionary helped a LOT when it came to the test!

and my strategy to keep myself doing stuff is to set a timer for half an hour or so and work non stop for that half hour— something about having a timer going overrides the part of my brain that would rather die than concentrate for five minutes.

the other good thing to know is that writing papers is literally just about writing down whatever you think. like you’ve got to give it a bit of structure eventually but the best place to start is by typing out whatever your opinion is like you’re talking to a friend, and then you can refine and organize it from there into something that looks academic and polished. i think it can be easy to be intimidated by papers in general but like every academic paper is just someone going on about their opinion. and your opinion is important and legitimate and don’t be afraid to state it! especially if you can back it up with sources! like it’s 50% about confidence sometimes. you may be struggling but you do belong and you have to act like you know you belong even if you don’t feel like you do. (this applies to everything but it helps me a lot with papers.)

so i don’t know if any of this helps but those are my thoughts. if anyone else has advice for anon with the studying or with anything else in classics please put it in the reblogs or replies! i feel like our followers probably have some good wisdom here. some of them have probably been in similar situations. and i feel like i don’t have that much help but i really feel for you anon and i want you to be successful. classics is hard to break into but it is possible for someone like you to do well.

[aesterium]

born of milk and love

a scott-centric empires s1 fic about his brother.

word count: 8,691

relevant tags and notes: this was written as a companion fic to my mdbb fic. you don’t need to have read that fic to read this one, but a quick run-down of info you might want to know is in the first author’s note on the ao3 link. pre- and post-canon content, some flower husbands content

read on ao3 || preview below

“Scott!”

Scott jumps out of his skin a bit when he hears his name hissed between bookshelves. Despite knowing exactly who it is, he looks around frantically, panicking when he doesn’t see anyone.

“▯▯▯▯?” he whispers, still trying to find where his brother is hiding. He hugs a thick leather tome to his chest.

After a second, a book slowly slides out from a bookshelf spine first, falling with a muffled thump on the gold carpet. As Scott watches, a chubby hand appears in the space where the book was. It awkwardly hangs there before more of the arm is shoved through, dislodging the books on either side of it, and twisting around to wave at him.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” Scott hisses, trying to hold back laughter.

Another hand appears and Scott watches his brother shove the two other books he’d loosened to the ground before hopping up on a shelf on his side. All he can see of the other boy is a lock of purple hair and a single dancing fuchsia eye.

“Hi, Scott,” he says, smiling toothily.

Scott smiles back, a giggle escaping despite his best attempts. “Hi, ▯▯▯▯.”

Before his twin can say anything, they hear a series of heavier footsteps making their way down the stone hallways. His twin lets out a squeak before hurriedly withdrawing from the bookshelf and scampering off. Scott’s about to loudly complain about cleaning up his mess when he reappears at the end of the shelf, rushing over to pick up the books he dropped down and shove them back in place.

“Don’t just stand there staring, idiot,” he says hurriedly. “Help me!”

“You did this to yourself,” Scott points out, but he puts his own book back before walking over and dutifully helping his brother clean up his mess before his parents noticed. He hears his father say something to the two of them, but he doesn’t recall those words.

There’s no continuation of this memory. It’s a single fragment, a piece of an idle childhood led by two boys who knew what their lives would be and how to seize it. It should be a perfect reflection of his childhood, of the simple joys that being young should give. Everything about it was polished in rose-tint, and yet he couldn’t view it that way.

Scott wonders why in even a memory so old and precious as this one, he cannot for the life of him remember his brother’s name.

 ☾○☽

 Scott first meets the heir of the Grimlands on her tour of the lands, the strange practice that some of the human Empires employed to ensure that the continuation of their bloodline was well-documented everywhere. She is one of the sharpest people he’s ever met despite being five years younger than him, and they fall into an easy rapport that translates well into letters. Scott soon finds himself looking forward to such letters, even when his brother teases him for being so interested in what a woman has to say.

“▯▯▯▯, I’m gay. We’re both gay.”

“And yet you’re talking to a woman?” His twin peers over his shoulder. “With such perfect, impressive penmanship?”

“Fuck off,” Scott says, pushing him away.

His brother gasps. “Oh, Exor,” he breathes. “Scott? Little Scotty? Perfect little baby boy Scotty said a  fuck word? Call the presses! Tell the papers!”

“Aeor’s antlers.” Scott is about to throw his hands in the air when he realizes that he’s still holding his quill. “Can I  please finish this letter?”

“Oh, so now you’d rather talk to a girl than your own dear darling brother?” His twin sticks his nose in the air and sniffs haughtily. “I see how it is, straightie.”

“That’s not— I’m not— how did you make ‘straightie’ sound like a slur?” Scott sputters.

“Who says it isn’t one?”

“Me! I say it!”

His twin pouts at him. “Oh, poo. I thought I got that one past you.”

“Leave me  alone, ▯▯▯▯,” Scott says, turning back to his letter. “I’m going to have to ask Father for permission to go into the archives to answer a question from here, and I’d rather write the rest of it up before doing that.”

“Nerd.” Before Scott can defend himself, his brother sweeps out of the room with one final, “See you later, idiot.”

“Nincompoop!” he shouts at the door.

“Who says ‘nincompoop’ anymore?” comes from down the hall.

“Boys! Stop shouting inside!” their dad calls from downstairs.

“Sorry, Dad!” 

 ☾○☽

  Hello, heir Scott! I hope you’re doing well— and yes, I know you hate your status being brought up, but cut a Grim heir some slack, I’ve got tutors breathing over my shoulder about this sort of formality.

To answer some of your questions: yes, multiples are well-documented in the Grim dynastic line. Some even say that our founder was himself a twin! Our succession isn’t guaranteed by birth order or anything, though; it’s not like the oldest of a set of triplets automatically is the most fit for ruling. Usually, any other siblings are trained in other tasks around the Empire so that the leader (the Count) can focus just on leading the Grimlands. There aren’t any set titles for the other positions those heirs attain; in the past few generations alone, there have been Smiths, Scientists, and even a Horsemaster, though that last one seems to be an exception and not a particularly historical example. 

None of this is the information you asked for. I’d erase it if I didn’t write it all in ink.

Most of the documented sets of multiples in my family are fraternal twins, but there have been identical twins as well. There is only one record of mirror image identical twins. Those two were the third Grim Count and her brother; according to that Count’s journals, he served as simply her Advisor, and together they expanded the Grimlands’ trade routes all the way to far-off Pixandria. Not too much of a concern anymore, of course, but back then it was truly an accomplishment. It’s said they wrote new legal proposals together, side by side, one writing with their right hand while the other corrected with their left. Fun anecdote, perhaps, but no real evidence to show for it.

I hope this helps your research.

 ☾○☽

 Scott has prayed to Aeor for as long as he could remember. He prays to Exor too, of course; you can’t deny one god over the other, even if you’re only the champion of one.

His twin joins him in his prayer today, and though Scott stares at him out of the corner of his eye, he doesn’t say anything about it until he’s standing and leaving the Church of Aeor and his twin is following behind.

“Are you good?” Scott asks, idly kicking a rock down the street.

“Yeah.” He sounds uncharacteristically downcast.

“You don’t sound very good,” Scott says.

His twin sighs loudly and glares at unlit candles at the side of the road. “Scott, have you ever thought about what it’ll be like when we become kings of this place?” he asks.

“Not really,” he admits. “We’d be living in the castle, I guess? And consulting Father about things that the court thinks are important. You’d be the one making the big decisions for Rivendell and I’d be talking to the other Empires for support. Just what the current Vaeorin and Xornoth do, I think.”

“I suppose.” His twin’s neck cranes as he stares at the sky. Scott looks at him with confusion before following his gaze up. “What’re you looking at?”

“Do you think the gods love us, Scott?” he asks.

“I’d hope so,” Scott replies, and the two of them stare as the sun crosses the sky. Scott feels his brother’s hand reach for his and they lock fingers, even now when they’re not children running down hills anymore.

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[plan-d-to-i]

(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

-

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

[dragon-kazansky]

Sweet wonderful Andrea | Andrea Marowski

Part 1

Andrea kept to his word and returned the following day, violin in hand. The moment you opened the door, he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. You assumed this was your new greeting now.

He stayed for tea, played his violin, and spent a few hours talking to you. He wanted to know every little thing about you. You told him as much as you could.

This went on for days. He would come looking for you at your house, sometimes with his violin, sometimes without. Every single time he greeted you with a kiss. The pair of you were getting closer every single day.

Andrea would hold your hand. Plant kisses to your forehead because he liked how shy you were after. He would hug you close to his chest. Every time he played the violin, he told you he was playing for you. Andrea had fallen in love with you.

And you most certainly fell for him.

Anyone with eyes could see that. Janet would sometimes spot you both on the beach, his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair. Sometimes you would be holding hands and walking up to the house with him.

Ursula was jealous. She couldn't deny that, but she never really said anything. At least not to you. To Andrea, though, she had asked on a few occasions if he would rather spend the day at the house, or go down to the beach with her.

He would deny, politely, and make his way to see you. Andrea only ever wanted to spend time with you.

One night he even told them how he felt about you. The reactions were mixed.

His visits began to mellow out. You didn't see him quite as often, but on the days he did come to see you, he spent every waking hour with you.

It would appear he had met someone who was staying in the village. A woman by the name of Olga. She was visiting apperently. He talked about her quite fondly. You tried not to let it get to you, but jealously was an annoying bug that was hard to shake off.

Still, you put on a happy face for him. It's not as if anything was official between you two, but you were so sure all his little gestures meant something. Even now as he treated his head on your lap, looking up at you with sparkly eyes and soft smile.

He only ever looked at you that way.

One afternoon, while tending to your garden, Andrea came by. Your heart leaped in your chest as he entered your little haven. He was quick to come over and kiss your cheeks as usual, arms snug around you.

"I missed you."

You chuckle, "I missed you too. Where have you been?"

"Seeing Olga."

"Oh." You step away slightly, turning back to the flowerbed you had been tending to.

Andrea frowns at your reaction.

"Do you not like Olga?"

"She seems nice," you say, not wanting to give an actual answer.

Andrea kneels down beside you, eyes full of hope that you will look up at him. You don't. He reaches out with one hand and gently stops you from your work. You look at his hand on yours.

"I did not mean to upset you."

You put a smile on your face and look up, hoping it will ease him. It doesn't.

"I'm not upset."

"Yes, you are. I want to tell you something."

"What is it?"

Andrea pulls you up to your feet. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and makes you look at him. He smiles softly at you, excitement flashing before his eyes.

"kocham Cię."

You stare at him blankly. Andrea stands there smiling like a fool. He knew you wouldn't understand. You didn't speak a word of Polish.

"kocham Cię," he says again.

"Andrea, I don't know what that means."

Andrea begins to crack up, laughing with full joy. The sound makes you smile as you watch him. What a wonderful sound it was.

"Andrea."

"Sorry. Sorry." He continues to laugh. You shake your head at him.

"What does it mean?"

"How you say..." he pretends not to know. Andrea seems to love teasing you.

He hadn't gone to the sisters to ask for the translation. He was concerned they weren't very fond of you, but it was hard for him to tell. He had asked Olga. She had seen him with you and he trusted her.

"kocham Cię."

"No really, you keep saying it, but I don't understand," you're still chuckling softly. He's just winding you up.

"I love you."

You can only stare at him. His goody grin, his big brown eyes.

"Andrea..."

"I love you. I mean it. kocham Cię."

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, unable to settle your racing heart. Andrea eagerly returns the gesture, having wanted to kiss you this way for some time now.

You pull away just to look at him, only for him to kiss you again, and again.

He pulls away himself. He looks at you.

"Do you?"

You smile at him.

"Of course I do! I love you, so much."

He hugs you tightly, laughing in your ear. You just made him the happiest man in the world.

"There is something else I must tell you."

"Oh? I don't think it can beat that but go on." You hold his hands, smiling up at him.

"I may have chance to go to London, I need to ask if you would come with me."

You're nice again left speechless.

"Andrea... London, that's... I mean, that's amazing, but..."

"But?"

"I can't just run away to London."

"No? I refuse to go if you do not come," he states, serious face on.

"That's quite a statement to make."

"I mean it. I go with you, or not at all."

"But, won't London be wonderful for you? I assume this has something to with that musician you mentioned."

"Yes, but if you don't come, I don't go," he tells you. There was no more teasing now.

"Can I think about it?"

"Yes. I do not know when train to London leaves, but I will wait." He squeezes your hands.

"Alright. I'll think about it. Andrea?"

"Yes?"

"Do they know about London?" You ask, referring to the sisters.

"No."

"Alright. Give me some time. I'll have an answer for you."

That wonderful smile returns and be kisses you again.

"kocham Cię, Y/N. kocham Cię."

"I love you too, Andrea."

He stands there and holds you to him for a while. Your mind is buzzing away. If you don't go with him, Andrea will miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime.

The answer should be obvious.

part 3

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97

[thompsonstessa-moved]

Måneskin interview for TVN24 - english translation

Few days ago an interview (on video) with Måneskin came out in Poland on TVN24 channel, sadly its paywalled on their site (and the tv only showed a bit).

However, I got a transcript of it and decided to translate it for you guys :D

Also, while the interview took place in Poland (day before the Sopot festival), the interviewer knew italian, so they talked in italian and the TV translated it to polish (and dubbed them!!! :( ). So I hope theres nothing that like, got lost in translation twice.

Also its 2am now so the translation might not be the most perfect, but you'll definitely get the gist of what they were saying!!

The whole thing is under the 'keep reading' :)

First of all – congratulations on the San Remo and Eurovision wins! I just want you to know how happy you made my mom – she listens to your music for 3 years now. How are you feeling today?

D: We feel good, tho we’re tired as well. We travel a lot, but we’re happy. We meet new fans, new opportunities are coming up. It’s really nice.

How did you guys meet? When looking at you, you have this sense of unity and just good vibes. How did it all start?

D: We know each other for a long time.

V: Yeah, Since middle school. Me, Thomas and Damiano were playing in different bands, but they weren’t the best. Thet all disbanded. Then we posted in a facebook group ’looking for a musician in rome’ and found Ethan. Since then we started doing music for real. We devoted ourselves to the music, and… the rest just came naturally.

E: Yes. We knew it’s gonna be our life since day one.

What did you say In the post, when looking for the fourth member of the band?

V: I wrote ”looking for a drummer for an indie rock/new wave band”.

E: That’s true, there was new wave in it too.

I’m sure a lot of people replied.

V: No, actually only Ethan replied. But we found that post lately and now it’s full of comments like „why didn’t i reply back then!”

T: Ethan was really lucky.

What did your parents thought about your choice (to pursue music)? A rockstar lifestyle isn’t exactly what every parent wants for their child.

D: No, our parents are really content with it. They know what we do makes us happy, and of course we visit them whenever we can. And they are proud of us as well, because they see we’re happy and independent, travelling all over the Europe, and hopefully all over the world. I think every parent wants their kid to be satisfied and happy.

And friends? Are you still friends with the same people, or did the friendships fell apart?

D: We still have the same friends. And we’re sure that way that they are our real friends.

Do they understand your current lifestyle, that you can dissapear for a year?

V: Yeah, they all understand that this is our job, that our life is a bit irregular, but, like everything, it has its ups and downs.

E: Exactly, they understand, but they also miss us. Sometimes my mom calls and says ”I miss you, you’ve been gone for so long”. It’s normal. But what’s important is that we feel the support from our families and friends. They understand that you need to sacrifice a lot, to achieve a lot.

Can you still easily go ands grab a beer in the Rome neighbourhoods (districts?) of Pigneto or Trastevere? Or is it impossible now?

V: The only truly safe place for us is Trastevere, because we always lived there. Everyone there knows us and they don’t care we’re famous.

D: But I have to admit that since they whole Eurovision thing we still didn’t come back, so it’s hard to say for sure.

T: But let’s say that its a safe space.

Don’t you worry that now that whole world knows you, you’ll be followed by tourists?

V: Oh my god, you’re right, we didn’t think about it!

D: When we came back to Rome for one day I got excited when one tourist stopped me. ”Cool, I got stopped by a tourist” – now it’s normal.

T: It gives us joy.

V: It’s beautiful.

E: Wonderful.

V: We’re not complaining.

D: Long live the tourists!! (that one was kinda weird to translate)

You started by playing on Via Del Corso, now you’re international stars. I’m wondering, do you still feel the same when playing together as before? Do you have fun making music together? Or do you miss the simpler times and would love to go back to Via del Corso and play something spontaneously?

V: No, we’re still spontaneus. It’s really important for us, and we make sure people who work with us understand that. We’re really adamant about it. Music needs to remain beautiful, spontaneus and natural thing for us. We never worked with someone who would write lyrics for us. No one ever told us what we can and cannot do. We still feel the exact same feelings in studio and on stage that we felt when we were just getting started. It’s the purest thing for us. We want to have fun and feel free to express ourselves.

T: Exactly, especially that music is our driving force. Without music, we wouldn't have all the beautiful things we do. We focus only on music, and the rest comes to us.

Let’s imagine a situation where you just started ma king a song, and everyone has a different idea for it. How do you work that out? And who’s idea wins most of the time?

V: There are two options in this situation: we try every idea, and if none works, we throw the song away.

E: It doesn’t work. (that one is kinda untranslateable?)

V: Or we really work on it and fight till the end.

D: Exactly. Sometimes, but that pretty rare, one of us has a particular idea on how to do the song, and manages to convince us (to the idea). but it’s not an order, it’s a dialogue. An attempt to make everyone think the same way. I need to say that it was much harder in the past, because we were still searching for our sound, and each tried to push the rest into their way of thinking. But now we’re more aware of what we want to create, so it’s coming out in much more natural way.

E: Faster.

D: Not really faster, because it takes a lot of time to create new songs, but it’s easier, we don’t argue that much anymore.

T: It’s really cool, because everyone gives something from themselves to the song. (my brain kinda blanked here, sorry xD) Just like Damiano said, there are days when Vic has one idea for a song, I have another idea, Damiano has his own idea, Ethan as well… But it’s a whole creative process where we all contribute, and it’s pretty stimulating.

D: Everyone feels appreciated. It’s really important when it’s four of us.

What are the biggest signs that you became huge international stars?

V: We really realize that when we’re having concerts. Where we can see our audience and we can see that people really care about us. That they took time and money to listen to us. Now that we’re travelling across Europe, the amount of people stopping us on the streets really shows how many people know about us. People are waiting for us in front of our hotels. We didn’t think it would be like that. But we feel nothing but affection and warmth from them.

How was Eurovision for you from the backstage? Anything atypical?

D: No, it was all great. We played ping-pong.

V: Did rehearsals.

E: Interviews.

D: Yes, interviews. And ping-pong.

When you we’re in Paris, did anyone mention the drug allegations that came from French people during the finale, that kinda became a diplomatic incident?

D: Yeah, you could say that it was mentioned.

They don’t resent you? Or maybe you resent France?

D: No. To feel that about the whole country would be too much of a generalization. Of course there were people who were really vocal about it, but we don’t feel any sort of resentment. It’s in the past for us. We knew they were just primitive accusations. We did what it deserved – talked a bit about it, I volunteered to do the test, and they (the accusators) were sure it had to be false. It got ridiculous, so we just stopped talking about it. We want to talk about out music, our art. The rest is just meaningless.

Right now, LGBTQ rights are a hot topic both in Italy and in Poland. You mentioned freedom of being different and being yourself on several occasions. Do you think you can change the world on this matter as musicians?

D: Maybe not change the world, but we can definitely contribute. Speak the voice of those who can’t. We have a huge following on social media, on stage, on TV, so we feel responsibility to talk about what’s important to us. We hope that something will change because of us, but we don’t consider ourselves as the ones to set the standards of justice and change. We do what we can do, and if we know enough about it, we talk about it. We don’t want to put someone elses words into ours mouths.

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 28-35

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 28-35 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 28

Aerith intended to find a job on her own, but Elmyra had already promptly sorted it out. It was to help the teachers at the Sector 5 House. Even though it was a job, she didn't feel that she was working because she spent most of her time playing with the children. She wanted to know about the world that she hasn't experienced. Yoko, who was older than her, had already left the house. She rented a house with a group of friends and made jewellery, which she sold in markets around Midgar. Jean and X collected machine parts from the scrapyard, polished them and sold them to people who needed them. Elmyra frowned when she told her this and ordered that she must never leave Sector 5 no matter what. 

"You said that if you restrained me, you'd be the same as Shinra. Have you forgotten?"

"I can’t believe you said that kind of stuff to your mother."

Elmyra looked very tired. Her work probably took a toll on her. If she had continued her "business" with Carlo and the others, she would not have had to work this hard. No matter how Aerith thought about it, she felt Elmyra let go of the business because of her. They were not a real parent and child, and she didn't have to care for her in the first place. Aerith wondered if she really had those inner thoughts, and she sure did. Was the given circumstances the reason why she tried to hold herself back with unnecessary words? Now, she was retaliating as a way to get back at Elmyra for tying her down.

Scene 29

"That's really sick."

"Yup, I admit it. My rebellious phase made things worse. I didn't have things to pour my heart and soul into, unlike you, Tifa."

"I really recommend exercising."

"Yeah, I’ll do that eventually."

"Yeah right… I’m sure.... You’ll do that eventually…."

"So, even though all these happened, I continued to help out at the house. The kids were so cute. They loved me. By the time I was fourteen, I didn't have much to complain about. But..."

Scene 30

After finishing work at the Sector 5 House, Aerith headed down the alley back home and saw people within the Gainsborough property standing by the entrance, unintentionally blocking it. There were two men and two women, and they seemed to be looking at the garden and the house. She recognised one of the men. His long, beautiful golden hair had not changed.

"Rodin!" Aerith called out to him instinctively. 

The face she saw when he looked back was unmistakably Rodin's.

"Yo, Aerith!" Rodin called back to her cheerfully, but for some reason, still looking about his surroundings.

"You've grown taller, haven't you? How long has it been?"

"It's been two years? Maybe slightly more than that?"

"Ahhh, yeah around that long."

She also looked at the other three to see if she knew them.

"Cheers."

Their eyes met. The young man with a large body and a boy's face raised his hand bashfully.

"Eh? Is that you, Marcellus?"

"Ah, you recognise me?"

"Of course."

Although Aerith replied that, she did not think that he was the same as back then. His physique became like his father's.

"I brought Marcellus here because, for some reason, he insisted on seeing you, Aerith."

Rodin took a step back, seeming like he made an excuse. There was a sense of discomfort. Marcellus darted his eyes from place to place and Aerith could sense his nervousness. He scratched his cheeks two or three times and started to speak in an awkward manner.

"Aerith. Firstly, I want to apologise for calling you a thief. Please forgive me. I was really a stupid kid.  I hated anything and everything about the world at that time. I didn't even control myself."

"I had already forgiven you. I'm glad you seem to be doing fine."

Marcellus's face lit up.

"Yea, I've been doing fine, thanks to you. Some thugs were chasing after me, then I ran away before a monster attacked me, and I was dying. Then I had a dream that you came to save me. For the longest time, I thought that it was a dream. Even if you were close by to me, you had no reason to save me, and you definitely couldn't be close by. But I had heard it from Carlo the other day that you knew where I was. Carlo didn't believe your reason. That's why he didn't tell anyone about it for a long time."

Aerith gave a faint smile, thinking that it was best not to deny or confirm anything. Damn you, Carlo.

"So I did a lot of research, and I've been wondering if it was the influence of the Lifestream. It's the flow of Spirit Energy. Do you know about it?"

"Nope."

She pretended not to know anything.

"Mako Energy sucks away the Lifestream..."

"Marcellus!" the young lady had been quiet the whole time, rebuked at him. "You're not allowed to talk badly about Mako Energy. I'll tell Papa if you do."

She then looked over at Aerith—

"My brother can talk about this for a super long time. Hey, have you been well?"

It was Rona.

"Yup. It looks like you're doing well too, Rona. How's Mr Meguro?"

"I can't say he's fine, but he's doing better now than when we left the slums. The air is better on the plate. You see, it's polluted and cloudy here, isn't it? I didn't know that until we left."

Rona was the same as before. She hurts people without meaning to.

"What's Carlo doing now?"

"He's working hard and is managing the business well. But I do wonder how he was during The Sector 5 Clash..."

"The Sector 5.... Clash?"

"You don't know about it?" Rona was shocked. "After Papa retired and Carlo became head of the household, the Corneo's, and some other ambitious, unknown people, came into Sector 5. Carlo and the others tried to get rid of them, and there was a bloody clash. Marvin, Roger and Bowman died, unfortunately."

"Eh...."

Aerith wondered how she could not have known about that.

"Well, things have already settled down, so there isn't an issue. And everyone has settled down where they should be," Rodin said, looking around again.

"Well then, Marcellus, Rona, are you both done? You both still can send letters in the future."

"Elmyra will be back soon. Do you all want tea?"

"I'm afraid we can't have tea either. We're actually not allowed in the Special District."

"Special District?"

"It spans from the station until here," Marcellus said. "It was established by Shinra around the time the Clash began. We weren't allowed to fight in the Special District. Anyone who breaks this rule would be executed. It was the only rule that everyone obeyed."

"I wonder what made this district special."

"Eh? Of course, it's because you're here, Aerith!" Rona could not hide her shock as she said it out loud.

"Okay! That's enough!" Rodin panicked.

"You both talked too much. Well then, let's go." Rodin urged them.

Marcellus hurriedly tried to arrange another meeting with Aerith. It seemed that he wanted to talk about the "mysterious incident". Aerith gave him a faint nod and dodged his attempt to do so. Rona invited her to come up to the plate to play, and Aerith replied that she would ask Elmyra. The four of them began leaving the alley. But Rodin turns around and points to a woman beside him. She was the one who was not introduced until the end. 

"This woman is Amber, and we'll be getting married soon. Would you please pass the news to Elmyra? It's unfortunate that I couldn’t introduce Amber to her."

Amber looked at Aerith with an angry look on her face.

↞↠

When Aerith got home, she looked at a stand, which had a vase placed on it. There used to be a television on that stand. She wondered when the television disappeared from the house.

"Ah..."

She remembered. It was a month after Elmyra severed ties with Carlo and the household. While Elmyra was cleaning the stand, the television fell over, and it broke. There was no television in the house after that. Aerith wondered if it was a coincidence or was it just to keep unnecessary information out of the house.

 Elmyra returned home late at night, and Aerith talked to Elmyra about Rodin and the others.

"Oh my, it's been a while, hasn't it? Are they alright?"

However, Aerith could tell on Elmyra's face that she was on guard.

"Hey, Mum. Do you know about the Sector 5 Clash? And about the Special District too?"

"What have you heard? We are living in a different world from those guys. It's better if you don’t worry about every little detail."

It seems that she would leave things in the dark again.

"The Special District is right here, isn't it? It's because I'm here. That's why Mum, you wouldn't let me go far away. That's the promise you made to Shinra. A promise to shut me in the Special District."

Elmyra shut her eyes and shook her head. 

"That's not it. But let's stop talking about this now. I'm tired, and whew, work was rough. The water tank in the café had broken down."

"Why don't you quit your job if it’s that tough? If you want money, why don't you get it from Shinra? You've been living on their money all your life. Nothing would change, wouldn’t it?"

Aerith knew she should not have said that, but she did. She could not see the look on Elmyra's face, and she then heard footsteps. Elmyra went up to the second floor and went into her own room.

Scene 31

"At that point, I thought that would be the end of my time in the house."

"But it had a happy ending, didn't it? I mean, you both went back on good terms."

Scene 32

Aerith thought that she could not stay in the house any longer and she was filled with emotions. Aerith firstly went back to her room, pulled out a suitcase she had never used from under the bed and stuffed a few sets of clothes, along with a few valuables, into it. Lastly, she put all the money she had earned from the Sector 5 House into her pocket and left the house. She walked down a familiar alleyway into a brightly lit street. A familiar face called out to her.

"Hey, Aerith. Are you going out at this hour?"

"I'm heading towards Sector 6."

She instinctively told a lie.

"Wait, what, no!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to the Wall Market."

"Be careful, okay? Elmyra will cry if that happens."

As she walked along the street, she remembered her adventure with Ifalna.

『I wonder which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『Which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide there a little...』

Aerith's steps became lighter. She still really liked this idea that Ifalna brought up in the middle of that adventure. The church should be far and beyond the station, outside the 'Special District'. It was the perfect place for Aerith's mood. The depressing feeling she had when she left home unbelievably cleared away. 

『Never forget that feeling, okay?』

『The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.』

The memories of Ifalna came flooding back one by one.

Scene 33

"When you fight with a parent, adrenaline builds up in you, doesn't it?" Tifa uttered and seemed to be reminded of something.

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't stop and think about it."

"Yup. I understand."

"I've regrettably hurt people."

Tifa swallowed her breath after hearing Aerith's confession.

Scene 34

A train just pulled in at the platform of the station. That was probably the last train from the plate. Aerith glanced at it sideways and went ahead to try walking past it. This place was where she left her birth mother, and because of that, she still could not look at it directly. She felt as though the scene was still there. Suddenly, thoughts that she would be making a wrong move flashed through Aerith's mind. Was she about to make a grave mistake? The adrenaline she had felt earlier had unbelievably disappeared. The "Special District" was to protect her. Once she crosses the station, she would no longer have the protection. She stood rock still, as though there was an invisible wall ahead of her. Only the surrounding areas of the station were lit up. If she went forth, the road ahead would be dark. She could not see the future.

"Aerith?" a deep voice called out to her. 

She turned around to see a large man standing with his back to the station. He had big eyes, a big nose and a big mouth.

"Ahhh!"

"You've totally grown up, haven't you? You look like your mother."

It was Fuzz, and he was wearing the same white coat as that day.

"You've got the wrong person," Aerith lied at the spur of the moment.

Trying to get away from him, she turned her back towards the station and darted towards the darkness. She noticed that Fuzz was following her. She could not stop.

"Aerith, wait up. It's not what you're thinking."

Aerith wondered what other reasons could he try to stop her. She felt that she should not believe him and stop for him. He must have been angry and detest us. She wondered what would happen if he caught her. Aerith no longer knew where she was headed to. She was running along a narrow road, and the surroundings were a mountain of trash. By any chance...

"Jean! X!"

There was no response. Even if this were their scrapyard, they wouldn't be there at this hour. But she could not help calling out to them.

"Ahh!"

Aerith stumbled into something big and soft and fell. The suitcase she held dropped to the ground with a thud, signalling that it broke.

"Ouch..."

She did not know what was in the middle of the road at first, but it was the carcass of a dead monster. There was an unidentifiable sound coming out from it. It died not long ago. Its bodily fluids reached Aerith's feet and hands, and she felt a stinging sensation.

"You don't have to worry. That's harmless."

It was Fuzz. She looked up at him on her bottom. He was as big as she remembered him when she was seven. She noticed that the hem of her skirt was very crumpled, and she hurriedly fixed it. She looked for an opportunity to stand up and back away.

"Aerith, how could you do this to me? I've been worrying about you since then. Ever since you ran away from Shinra, I've been wondering if you've been living in terrible conditions. I heard about this from Amber, whom you met today."

"Amber!?"

Amber. Aerith met her in the evening, and she was introduced as Rodin's lover, and they were to be married. She had an angry face. Aerith then connected Amber to Fuzz. 

"Looks like you don't remember her. She was the friend who unloaded you both from the cargo train at the Sector 4 Slums Station."

"Ahh!"

So Amber was the grumpy-looking woman in the dirty work clothes that day. 

"I heard from her about where you were, and I hurriedly came over to find you. But what a close call. We almost didn't cross paths. I'm sure it was Ifalna who brought us together."

Aerith slowly stood up. Fuzz took two steps back, perhaps to assure her that he was not a threat. 

"Are you going to church, by any chance?"

"What?"

"I've talked to Ifalna about it before. She seemed to be very interested in it. When I told her I'd take her there someday, she said she definitely did not want to go. After you both disappeared, I went to look for both of you several times at the church, just in case you were both there. I prayed, but in the end, it seemed to me that there was no God."

A roar of a beast could be heard somewhere.

"That's from a monster. Here's the danger zone, especially at night. Shall we go to the church? Since we came all the way here anyway. It's not too far off from here, and it's nearer than the station."

It seemed that Aerith ran away further than she thought.

"But..."

"I see. Are you more afraid of me than the monster?"

She nodded honestly. He should already know how she was behaving towards him, and there was no point in pretending. 

"Well, I'll just walk ahead then, and you can keep a distance and follow me. If a monster comes up behind you, run away on your own. We can’t expect the vigilante corps to be here at this hour. And I must warn you, don't expect me to put up a good fight too. Just because I'm huge doesn't mean I'm strong."

With a thin smile, Fuzz walked away. His big white back disappeared into the darkness. Fuzz was right. She did not dare to go back alone on the monster-infested road. Just because they didn't appear on the way here doesn't mean they won't appear on the way back.

"Watch out!" Fuzz's voice came from a long way in front. "The monster is dead, but it's still fresh. Don't step on it."

↞↠

The "soon" was somewhat a lie, wasn't it? They had walked so far that she was doubtful of Fuzz, and after passing the carcass of the third monster, which was still fresh, they finally came to the front of the church.

"I wonder who brought them down?" Fuzz wondered as he walked up the stone steps and approached the door of the church. It was a big door. The style of the building was unlike anything Aerith had ever seen before. She could not see the entire structure even if she was looking up. She wondered what it would look like in daylight. The door opened with a squeak. Fuzz beckoned to her, and he went in. Aerith then went up the stone steps. A light, sweet scent wafted over from the church. It was a smell that Aerith knew. The inside was pitch black, but the floor at the back was slightly white.

"Look, the flowers bloom here. Regardless of whether there is a God or not, this is a special place," Fuzz said.

Aerith thought the same. Flowers bloom in special places. The same scent from the Gainsborough garden surrounded her, and she was soon faced with feelings of regret. She wondered what Elmyra was doing—wondering if she was looking for her daughter, who ran away from home. She wondered if she was going in the direction of Wall Market, taking the word of her acquaintance and believing him blindly.

"You can sleep on the bench near the flowers. I'll be near the exit.

"Thank you."

Aerith was not sleepy at all, but she did as he suggested and sat down on a bench near the flowers. She let out a big, quiet breath and felt every stiffness in the muscles of her body relax. She must have been tenser than she had realised. She felt like she was about to really fall asleep. She had to think of something. She wondered what would have happened if she had come to this church that day with her mother, Ifalna. What if the adventure had continued until the end? What would she have worked as? With little knowledge about the world, what would she have done? Would they have been able to live together on good terms? No matter how close they were, would they have disagreements? Since they were a real parent and child, would no problems arise?

"Aerith."

A voice came from a distance.

"Yes?”

"The house at Sector 3, it's still there. I've continued paying the rent since then."

"I see."

"Would you like to live together?"

She wondered what he just said to her. What did he mean?

"You'd like me to live together with you?"

There was no response.

"Fuzz?"

As she stood up fearfully, she saw that Fuzz was right next to her.

"Yeah. Let's live together, ‘I..fal...na…’"

Fuzz smiled. The pupil in his eyes seemed like it was not looking anywhere. A big hand reached out slowly towards her.

"Come here."

He was going to grab her! Aerith tried to take the suitcase and run. However, he caught her by the arm. 

"Let go of me!"

She slammed the suitcase into Fuzz's face as hard as she could. Fuzz flinched. The handle broke, the suitcase came off and flew off somewhere.

"You're heartless, Aerith."

She did not care and ran away. Weaving her way between the benches, she ran for the door. Fuzz jumped over the benches and gave chase. 

"Wait!"

There was no way she was waiting. The door was already nearby. She had to exit and run away. And what should she do after escaping? Fuzz knows where she stays. Amber, without a doubt, told him about Elmyra's house. Even if she ran away now, Fuzz would show up eventually. What should she do? Would she always have to live in fear? As long as Fuzz was around...

And Aerith eventually darted out of the door.

"Eh?"

Elmyra was there in front of her, dressed in her usual clothes as though nothing was wrong. Her face changed from surprised to relieved, and her facial expression changed a few more times. Finally, she turned serious.

"Aerith, move aside."

"Huh?" Fuzz sluggishly came out of the building, "Who’s out there?"

Elmyra hammered his throat with her weapon with all of her might. Fuzz let out a shriek of pain, collapsed and laid down motionlessly. Aerith was shocked to see what weapon Elmyra was using. It was a broom, and it seems that she had brought it here.

"Shall we go home?"

"Okay."

"You didn't leave anything behind?"

"Ah..."

She forgot her suitcase. There was something important inside of it.

"Quickly go get it."

"Okay."

She went back into the darkness of the church and went over to the flowers. She looked around and immediately saw a suitcase. The lid was open, and its contents were scattered outside. She gathered up the scattered clothes and put them back in the case, but she could not find her "treasure"—the pouch containing the materia.

"What are you doing?" Elmyra called out to Aerith, her voice audibly contained irritation.

"I can't find that materia."

Elmyra mumbled in annoyance and crouched down to join Aerith in finding it.

"It's in a little pouch made out of cloth."

"I know."

It's true. Elmyra knows everything about her.

"But, how did you know I was here?" Aerith asked while searching for the pouch.

"That's what I'd like to know too."

"Eh?"

"I knew that you ran away, and I soon went out of the house too. I thought about where you'd have gone as I ran. And then, while I was in the garden, I knew that you would have gone to the church on the outskirts of the slums."

"Why?"

"It just somehow came to my mind. Ever since you came to the house, I've had several strange experiences. I thought that it was this sort of experience again. So I went back home again and did some preparations before coming over."

"And what you prepared was a broom?"

"I wasn't exactly calm, you know. But it was useful, wasn't it? Look, Aerith, over there."

Elmyra pointed towards the densely grown flowers. In the middle laid the pouch that they were searching for. She parted the flowers away to not step on them, picked up the pouch and looked inside. The materia seemed to be glowing brighter than usual. 

Aerith turned around to look at Elmyra and was about to ask her shall they go back.

Elmyra was seated on the bench, and she was praying. She had her hands clasped at her chest, and her eyes were closed. The sight of her took Aerith's breath away. 

"I used to give thanks like this when I was a child," Elmyra said, opening her eyes as she stood up. 

She seemed embarrassed by it.

"Is it different from a prayer?"

"It's different today."

"Who did you thank?”

"Whoever told me about this place. Well, let's head out of here."

Elmyra started to walk, and Aerith followed her behind.

"Mum."

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

"Aerith, you’ve been talking to me normally since just now, but I'm angry with you. When I get home, you will face the music and hear everything I want to say."

"Okay～"

Both of them were completely distracted.

Fuzz had regained consciousness and was hiding behind the door. Firstly, he kicked Elmyra and sent her flying. 

"Mum!"

Fuzz tried to rush over to Elmyra and was drawing near her. She dodged his grasp, picked up the broom that she had dropped, turned around and struck the big man. However, the handle snapped right in half.

"Aerith! Come over here!" Elmyra called out to her.

Aerith ran towards her in panic. She saw Elmyra holding a gun with both hands and pointing it at Fuzz. That was the gun that Carlo had left behind. Fuzz stopped in his tracks and stared at the muzzle of the weapon.

"You take one more step, and I'll shoot you."

"Why don't you understand me!?" Fuzz yelled as he came towards them.

A shot rang. Elmyra had fired the gun. The dry sounds of gunshots echoed in the air. How many shots did she fire? Finally, they only heard the metallic click of the trigger. 

"Ifalna..."

Fuzz approached them as if nothing had happened. His lab coat was terribly stained, but there was no sign that a bullet had hit him.

"I can't believe this gun didn’t do shit!" Elmyra swore and threw her gun at Fuzz, but it flew well over the big man's head.

"Mum, let's run already..."

A bang was heard, and it was a sharp sound that cut through the air. Aerith did not know what it was until she looked at Fuzz. He was holding his left shoulder with his right hand and moaning. His blood was running on his white coat as he had been shot in the shoulder. Who had shot him? From where? Aerith looked around, but there was no shooter in sight.

"Let's go," Elmyra uttered in an awfully calm manner.

Fuzz collapsed and was writhing in pain. Aerith was not fearful anymore. He just looked so pathetic now.

"I'm sorry."

"Aerith, let's hurry."

Without delay, Elmyra started walking, holding the broken broom with both her hands. At last, Aerith apologised to Fuzz once more. She then proceeded to hug her handleless suitcase and chased after Elmyra.

"Hey, Mum. I wonder who shot him."

"I'm guessing this, but the 'Special District' probably expanded."

Ah. That makes sense. As they walked on, Aerith looked around her surroundings, searching for a black suit. Just for tonight, she felt that she could give them her thanks.

Scene 35

"What happened to Fuzz after that?" Tifa asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I never saw him again. Though, till now, I still get nervous when I see someone big."

"I see."

Whenever Aerith thought about Fuzz, she would still have mixed feelings about him. She did not want to see him again. However, she also carried guilt. Fuzz became like that because of what Ifalna and her did to him. If she never pondered about this, these feelings of guilt would continue for a long time. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to atone.

"You can talk to me about everything, okay?" Tifa assured her.

Aerith was delighted by her compassion. She wanted to tell her more.

"Well then, next up is a big one!"

"You gotta be kidding me. There's something bigger than whatever you said?"

"For that, you're right. It's about my first love."

"Oh, that's definitely something big!"

―It sounded like someone walked into the cargo hold. Tifa seemed to notice it too. They put their index finger to their lips and looked at each other. The sound of footsteps was coming closer, coming from the other side of the cargo wall. Tifa moved noiselessly to the gap in the cargo. It looked like she was waiting for the owner of those footsteps.

The time passed slowly but surely, and the footsteps came to a stop.

"It's me."

It was the voice of Cloud Strife. Tifa's expression softened.

"I'll tell you next time. About the story of my first love," Aerith whispered to her.

Cloud walked in front of them and looked at both of them with a dubious look. He made a face as though he was investigating them, and he looked ridiculous. Aerith and Tifa burst into laughter, trying to keep their silence.

-fin- ↞↠ You’re on page 142/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel Word Count: 29322 The End. Thanks for the reading!  Translator’s Note Previous Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 1 — Tifa (Coming Soon) Episode 2 ― Aerith Coda: The Investigation Unit Within the Painting follow @istanleyff7​ on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

[my-terrible-life]

I wanted to say some things about the Arabic used in Community.

I'm not sure what the point the point of this post is but I just wanted to get the thoughts out of my head because they've been there ever since I first watched Community like a million years ago and found out one of the main characters is half Arab.

Long post I'm sorry!!

So in Community Abed is Polish Palestinian. My very first thoughts on this, so long ago, was huh what an unusual name! Because it is. Abed is not a common Arab name at all, it's pretty weird actually. The name itself means "Worshipper" which I guess should fit in with the ~theme~ of Arab Muslim names but it doesn't because in Arabic it sounds incomplete.

Boys names that follow the "theme" of Worship tend to be 2-parters, the Worship part and then the What part. What is he worshipping? God obviously, but God in Islam has many names and many descriptions, so the trend is 'pick one of the names/descriptors and put it right after the word that means worship' so we end up with names like Abdullah (for example). Abdullah in Arabic is a 2 word name, it is Abd then Allah, combined it means worshipper of Allah. We can have a name like Abdulrahman, which is a 2 word name that is Abd then Al Rahman, which combined means worshipper of the most merciful. The list can go on and on and they all mostly follow that pattern: Abd + God's name. That's the convention and that's what male Arabic Muslim names have followed for hundreds of years. So Abed alone is pretty odd, but not impossible I guess.

Now the writers could have consulted with an Arab at any point, there's Arabs literally everywhere in America, but okay it was during the time when casual racism was still something the audience didn't know we could be very vocal about, or that's how I think about it anyway.

Danny Pudi himself is not Arab so I don't think he could have accurately weighed in on this but again I don't know what it was like working as a brown actor on US television at the time. (We'll get back to Danny Pudi later)

Nevertheless, the initial oddness of Abed's name aside, I grew used to it and grew to really like the character. He's one of my 3 favorites ❤ and I don't have to repeat why he's awesome and how his stories are not stereotypes etc etc.

But the eps were his Arabic heritage and language come up were beefed. Hard.

You can split Arabic up into 2 umbrellas I guess: Standard Arabic called Fus'ha, and the common tongue or dialect of the specific Arab country you're in/writing about.

Most of us know and understand Standard Arabic because it's taught in schools and it is the language of the Qur'an so we learn it. It's also the language used for subtitles in film and TV, as well as any formal/official document, and when presidents give speeches in foreign countries so the instant translators can do their jobs without having to learn more than 1 Arabic dialect.

But here's a very big point guys... no one Speaks in Standard Arabic. As beautiful and flowery and vast as it can be we just don't use it like That.

Think of it like your everyday English you speak vs. Shakespearian English. No one talks like that unless they're on stage or they're trying to be funny.

So, it was very obvious when Abed and his Dad were talking that they put the script into Google translate and just went with that. They could have asked an Arab 🤦‍♀️ any Arab! There's so many of us everywhere just grab one off the street like a madman and ask 'em, they'll tell you. We Love correcting wrong Arabic 😂

Anyway, they had Abed speak in Standard Arabic.... cringe kingdom thanks... but Abed is Palestinian, which means his dialog should have been in Palestinian Arabic and that's hella different. (Now I'm personally Egyptian and while I would be able to understand Palestinian very well I would not be able to re-write his lines to reflect the dialect accurately, so I won't)

Of course their pronunciation was incredibly off as neither actor who play Abed or Gubi (weird name) are Arabs or speak Arabic. It just made me cringe so hard.

Now let's briefly talk about those yellow subtitles Community used for Abed and his Dad in that episode where they're fighting about Abed taking film classes... 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ yeah, not pretty, not only did just use Google translate, it was also unedited. I remember back then Google translate was still being filled up with vocabulary and different possible translations so for Arabic sometimes we'd get a very literal translation that made a whole sentence wrong. And boy did they mess that up!

The line was "The wrong person just left" and the translation was "الشخص الخطأ يسار" which is literally "the wrong person left", well what's wrong with that? Oh just that they used Left as in the direction.... the wrong person LEFT (direcrion) as in ur left hand as in let's go left instead of right 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ never mind that the entire phrase would not be translated that way to begin with but that they couldn't even bother to just double check their translation

Oh you guys know who sounded like they actually knew Arabic??? Abra! Her pronunciation was correct. Even if her lines were still in Standard Arabic her pronunciation and delivery showed she knew Arabic. (Another note on the name... I don't know what the hell Abra is, that's not an Arabic name I'm sorry) (neither is Gubi)

The last thing I wanna mention is from the Christmas ep, where Jeff gets in a fight, and Abed comes to their gathering with a dish from his culture, and he says "It's a traditional Muslim dish".....okay, Danny Pudi is not Arabic okay but he is Muslim and he should know there is no such thing as a Muslim dish, but fine okay maybe he couldn't say anything whatever who cares...

There is no such thing as a Muslim dish, or Muslim food. Or even Arab food, that doesn't exist... it should have been "it's a traditional Palestinian dish".

The Arab World is 22 countries, each very different from each other in culture, customs, food, language, whatever you can think of. We have similarities, we understand each other, we have a shitton of shared history but we are not a monolith.

Back to the Language aspect

Arabic is hard, Standard or otherwise, but especially Standard. The sounds you'd need to be able to make Arabic happen have to be trained into your mouth and throat, and it takes a long time. (I was lucky to grow up with it, not knowing the struggle, and major respect to those who want and try to learn it, whatever variation of it)

I was just spewing my frustrations here about a couple scenes and I'm glad there weren't any more tbh.

but I do hope this helps anyone who was curious about Abed's language.

Anyone writing about Abed or characters like Abed, I hope this can give a hint into what to research.

Also it's not pronounced Nadeer (with the emphasis on the second part) it's Naader (with emphasis on the first part)

Thanks for reading through this!

[equustenebris]

New drabble! This kind of just poured out basically all at once, lol. This is for modern Topolino Newton, I've got his first story translated here for the unfamiliar: https://equustenebris.tumblr.com/post/658572502503735296/hello-duck-community-i-come-bearing-a-gift-so

Newton Gearloose has a bully. For Whumptober 2021. Prompt: "Who did this to you?"

Three. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But...

He gave a final sniffle as he rounded the corner to his uncle's house, trying to pull himself back together before his uncle saw him crying. The punches and kicks had been painful, sure, but it was the humiliation more than anything -- and the overwhelming fear of facing Jax again tomorrow.

He'd always known there was no way he'd win in a fight. He was Newton Gearloose, inventor, not -- like -- Newton Gearloose, boxer, or something. He just wasn't built for it, and besides, he'd always firmly believed brains were better than brawn any day. Still, when Jax snatched him out of the hallway to shake him down for his chemistry project results, he'd made his very best attempt to fight back, but Jax was built like an eighth grader, and all he'd really managed to do was make him angrier. He gingerly touched his fingertips to his swollen eye, hoping it didn't look nearly as bad as it felt.

He didn't have any idea what he'd done to get on Jax's bad side -- they only had one class together, and despite his natural aptitude for it, it wasn't as though Newton was particularly well-liked by their chemistry teacher anyway. (A few too many beakers shattered, chemicals spilled, labs blown up -- frankly, he was amazed they still let him do the hands-on work.)

But for whatever reason, Jax had apparently decided that Newton was his new target -- and he evidently had a lot of free time to spend making Newton's life as miserable as possible. It had started off with little things, stealing his pencils, getting in his way in line at the water fountain, knocking the books out of his hands -- all of that was manageable, and honestly Newton was often so distracted by his own ideas for new inventions that he barely noticed. But when it went from the annoying to the physical -- snatching him from the hallway just after the last bell to rough him up -- well, that he noticed.

He opened up the front door slowly, peeking around in the hopes that his uncle was down in the lab, and he'd have a chance to try to clean himself up before his uncle saw him. Apparently, today was really not his lucky day, because Gyro was at the sink, washing up some dishes.

"Hi, Newton," he chirped brightly, "how was sch -- Newton?" He dropped the dish back into the sink as he caught sight of his nephew's black eye, immediately swiveling around. Newton cringed, hunching his shoulders as if he could make himself small enough to disappear. "Your face! What happened?"

"Nothing, Uncle, I'm fine," he tried, attempting to slip away to the bathroom.

"You certainly are not! Who did this to you?"

Little Helper was already at his side with an ice pack, holding it up above his tiny head for Newton to take. Embarrassed, he only looked away instead.

"Nobody, Uncle, it's -- it's fine," he tried again, cheeks flushed and burning. But Gyro wasn't so quick to give up, quickly kneeling in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? Your arms? Your tail?" he asked, lifting Newton's shirt to check his belly, gently snatching his wrists to examine his arms, and just generally not helping the utter humiliation burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm fine," Newton snapped again, pulling his arms away.

"Newton." Gyro took him by the shoulders, gazing into his eyes. Reluctantly, the boy looked back to him, biting his lip to try to hold the persistent tears at bay. "You can tell me. What happened?"

Despite his best efforts, a single hot tear slipped down his cheek -- and then it was all over, the floodgates wide open as he wrapped his arms around his uncle's neck, trying to choke back sobs as he explained: all the multitude of small things he ignored for months, one after another, and now finally, the big things he couldn't. It came tumbling out at once in a flurry, months of pain and fear he hadn't realized he had been carrying. Gyro just held him, gently rubbing his back, occasionally giving him soft, preening nips, trying to calm him down.

When he was finally finished, Gyro nodded firmly, intent. "We'll go to the principal." Newton immediately shook his head, wincing.

"No, Uncle! It'll just get worse if you tell anyone! Principal Schnauzer doesn't even like me, he doesn't care, and even if he did he can't watch me all the time! It wouldn't be safe."

"Well, we at least have to tell your mom and dad," he mumbled, rubbing Newton's back again.

Again, Newton shook his head. "Oh, please, no, Uncle! This is already humiliating enough, I don't want them to know, too!"

"We have to do something, Newton! I can't send you back to school like this!"

"I can handle it myself," Newton mumbled, gazing vaguely over his shoulder towards his treehouse, and his own secret lab, hidden away from his uncle. He had no idea what, exactly, but surely he could come up with some sort of invention to deal with this on his own. His uncle, however, seemed less than convinced.

"Maybe I could invent something for you? You know, something that could keep you safe, maybe like some sort of...repelling ray, or maybe a robot bodyguard, or --"

"I'll be fine, Uncle," Newton mumbled, cringing. The last thing he needed was his uncle interfering -- whether his inventions worked or didn't, either way, it could only add to his humiliation. Really, showing up the next day with a robot bodyguard? "I can just -- I'll handle it."

Gyro stood, scratching the back of his neck. "Are you sure, Newton?"

The boy said nothing, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. On the living room wall, unnoticed, a large bee -- too large -- softly beat its wings.

---

The next morning's bike ride to school felt more like a death march. Newton and the triplets walked the last stretch, coming up on the bike rack just outside the school.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help you, Newton?" Huey asked, frowning worriedly.

"Yeah, we're pretty tough -- we can take him on!" Dewey offered. Newton only shook his head, polishing off the last of his breakfast apple.

"No, I don't want to get you guys caught up in this too," he muttered, tossing the core into the garbage can as they locked up their bicycles. "Besides, it's just going to get worse if I can't handle him on my own."

"Huh? What's going on over there?" Louie wondered aloud, finally noticing the large crowd of students on the school's front lawn. Curious, the boys pushed their way forward, slipping through the crowd to approach the large oak tree that everyone seemed to be gathered around.

"--do you mean, you have no idea how he got there? Someone did it! He must have been here since last night! You've got camera footage, don't you?!"

"I can't explain it, Principal Schnauzer, but I already reviewed it and there's just...nothing. It looks like it's all been scrubbed clean somehow."

"Well cut him down from there, and get his parents and the police on the phone! And get these kids out of here, already! Oh, this is going to be such a mess... You! Get to class! There's nothing to see here!"

Newton and the triplets finally pushed their way to the front, stumbling out in front of the oak tree. It took no more than a split second for Principal Schnauzer to spot them in the crowd, and with a fury Newton hadn't seen before (which, frankly, was saying something for the schnauzer), he abruptly whipped around, pointing directly at him. "You!"

The other students immediately backed away, leaving Newton standing on his own, frozen in shock as the principal stomped closer. Snarling, voice low and dangerous, he shoved his snout nearly against Newton's beak. "I don't know how you managed to pull this off, but I know you're behind this somehow. This fell out of his pocket."

He shoved a slip of paper into Newton's grip, but Newton's attention was elsewhere -- slowly, his eyes trailed up to the oak tree, finally seeing what everyone else had been staring at. There, Jax dangled from a branch at the top of the tree, still dressed in pajamas, hogtied, terrified sobs muffled by the thick gag in his mouth.

He just stared for a moment, slack-jawed. A tiny yelp from Dewey, evidently reading over his shoulder, brought him back to reality and he looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. There, scrawled in his uncle's tell-tale handwriting, was a hastily written note.

He won't be bothering you anymore, Newton.

Let me know if I need to pay anyone else a visit.

--MD

"This isn't over!" Principal Schnauzer raged, swiping the paper back out of Newton's hands before storming away. The triplets exchanged worried looks, but Newton just stood at the base of the oak tree, too stunned to move, as his (now former, he supposed) bully dangled helplessly above his head.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

glimpses into a calmer universe

a gift for @luyous, because you once made some posts asking for indchu fics, and I started writing indchuran for the hell of it, but never finished until now. I think this could fit in the indchuran: bros for life AU but only after they get together, since there’s less pining than usual. Anyways, this is very overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

A little bit of domestic fluff. 3 glimpses into the indchuran universe through three different perspectives. Iran/Persia is Roshan, and they’re genderfluid.

Also on AO3!

———

The smell of food is wafting upstairs from the kitchen. It tempts Aditya sorely, and he tries to resist—he has a rather crushing workload to get through today—but five minutes later his feet are padding softly on the first floor landing, the tiles cool under his bare soles. He stops in the doorway, idly tracing the spots of afternoon sunshine dancing on the walls, and watches the figures of his two loves, side by side in the kitchen. Yao is standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, and Roshan is at his side in front of the sink, busy washing something Aditya cannot see. They are talking quietly above the sizzle of the wok and the sound of water gushing out of the faucet, a perfect picture of domesticity, all easy smiles, gentle touches, quiet jokes and careless laughter. An intimate synchronization of movement, like their hearts are beating in time. It strikes Aditya that his heart suddenly feels like it is overflowing, and he supposes he’s done enough watching from afar—for today, at least. 

Yao hears him coming first, and turns around as he enters the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything, just acknowledges him with a smile and a softening of the eyes, and begins to heap the stir-fried ants-on-a-branch—the vegetarian variation, with diced shiitake mushrooms instead of minced meat—onto a plate. When Roshan sees him, Aditya is treated to a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek that smells like roses before they turn back to washing the spinach, cilantro, and parsley—Aditya thinks they’re for the reshteh that recently appeared in the kitchen cupboard—in the sink. 

He offers to help with the washing, or the onions (even though they make him cry, which always makes Roshan and Yao laugh), but Roshan pushes him lightly out of the kitchen and Yao makes sure he doesn’t go back in. So Aditya is forced to sit at their small dining table, debating whether to finish his work or enjoy the afternoon sunshine streaming in from the glass back door. The work, he decides, isn’t worth it, and instead he goes back to watching Roshan and Yao work. He refuses to think he is admiring them. 

Nevertheless, it isn’t long before he’s too caught up in staring that he doesn’t notice Yao nudging Roshan and whispering “Aditya’s pining again”. But when Roshan catches him staring, they just smile cheekily, wink, and blow him a theatrical kiss that still makes Aditya’s throat catch and his heart stutter, even after a year of dating them. When they turn back to chopping herbs, the sunlight catches on their hair, coating it gold. Aditya is reminded of Roshan’s name, and Yao’s—and their meanings: light, shining. 

He does not think himself sentimental, but sometimes—many times—he wonders if they were fated to be. And he supposes it is not too cliche to admit to himself, privately, that his partners are the lights of his life.

———

Yao pauses at the entrance of the Ferry Building Farmer’s Market, still wondering whether it was wise to bring Aditya and Roshan along, and whether they will drag him to every place that sells anything vaguely shiny before leaving. But just as he thinks this, he makes the mistake—and it is definitely a mistake—of turning, and catches Aditya grinning at him, flashing an easygoing smile—a smile he’d do anything to keep, and he relents. But his regrets, or doubts, or whatever the vaguely self-preserving feeling in his chest is, must have shown on a slight frown or in an imperceptible sigh, because Roshan kisses his cheek and says,

“Come on Yao, we’ll handle ourselves. We won’t get distracted and we’ll be back at home in no time, exactly as you planned.” They wink at Aditya, which is never a good sign, but it’s still enough to wheedle him into agreeing, however fondly exasperated he is, and however certain he is that they will waste half the day away, as usual. He sighs again—the old man sigh, according to Roshan—but grumbles a “fine, but you need to pay me back in white rabbit”, and watches them veer off towards the artisan stalls, holding hands. Aditya’s hair glints brightly in the sun, and Roshan’s is dyed a rich, dark brown. Like two suns, hand in hand; one bright, the other warm.

Someone bumps into him, and Yao shakes himself out of his reverie. The grocery list is a mile long, and he doesn’t need to waste more time than is absolutely necessary, after all.

But finding all the things he needs to buy takes more time than he likes, and the walk to the Chinatown butcher’s to see whether they have halal live chicken— they don’t—takes even longer, so that it is almost noon (two whole hours, which he realizes with a pang) when he wanders back to the Ferry Building to find Aditya and Roshan in a small jewelry shop, excitedly inspecting a stand of earrings. He watches them for a second through the windows as Aditya holds a pair of dangling yellow lotus blossoms up to his ears and Roshan looks on admiringly. Yao is pretty sure he too is admiring Aditya—he looks truly beautiful, with the earrings and a modest smile and a bright twinkle in his polished obsidian eyes—but some part of him pulls him back into real time and reminds him that although it is a Saturday, he has no time to waste (stupid law firm), and he regretfully walks into the store to retrieve his partners. He thinks—no, he knows—it will be half an hour before he can pull them away from the (admittedly alluring) jewelry displays, but he supposes Aditya’s cheek kiss and Roshan’s cheerful gratitude will be worth it. Anyways, he can always bullshit case briefings and squeeze out extra time somewhere. He’d rather not rush this moment.

———

When Roshan finally trudges home after getting the week’s groceries, neither Yao nor Aditya are there to hold the door open for them, and there is no response when they call out an “I’m back” from the kitchen. They know Yao and Aditya are in the house—Yao’s Hello Kitty slippers are missing from the shoemat—so the only possibility is that they are ignoring Roshan. Sad. They sigh—rather theatrically—but heave everything into the refrigerator without calling a second time, and hope this will be a fair trade for them failing to find white rabbit in Chinatown for the third time in a row. 

Yao and Aditya, they find, are in the living room couch, engaged in another petty struggle over the remote. The newest Game of Thrones episode is playing on the TV Yao shipped from China, and Aditya is furiously muttering about “what a trashy white-produced rapefest show it is” and trying to swipe at the remote Yao grips with white-knuckled hands. Yao, for his part, has not retaliated much at all, besides scooting over to the other side of the couch and obstinately holding onto the precious remote. Roshan looks on for a time, amused, and watches Tywin Lannister’s face loom nastily over them all, until Aditya turns around and catches sight of them in the doorway. 

“Roshan, help me! You can’t possibly agree with Yao’s taste, can you?” Aditya looks thoroughly exasperated, and Roshan almost can’t believe how much his voice begs them to take a side. 

“No thanks. Aditya, you’ll have to fight the good fight by yourself; I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner.” They smirk, and decide that the way Aditya swells up with absolute fury is definitely worth whatever payback is coming. And as they walk back to the kitchen to start washing vegetables for dinner, there is a brief moment of silence as the TV switches off before everything descends into chaos. Yao's yelling now, and, by the sound of it, has started a pillow fight that Aditya joins in with enthusiasm. Roshan glances back, just in time to watch Yao whack Aditya with a flower patterned pillow and scream, 

"LET ME LOOK AT TYWIN LANNISTER AGAIN, ADITYA!" 

They are idiots, Roshan thinks with a smile, but they are their idiots.

———

Feedback is welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading :)

Notes

In the second scene, I just chose a notable farmer’s market in San Francisco at random hhhhh (apologies for any inaccuracies if anyone from CA is reading lol) the Ferry Building Farmers Market is pretty close to Chinatown, and although idk where they live in San Fran, Yao’s gotta get his white rabbit from somewhere right (the live chicken would be for chicken soup, but not the American kind)

Last scene inspired/taken from this ask! thank you bones, this was the fic I was talking about lol

the title was made up on the spot but I was thinking along the lines of “well this is a universe where the three of them are less of a group of bastards and also don’t have to contend as much with complex relations and just be lovers together”

In the first scene, there are two dishes I was referencing:

Ants-on-a-branch: 蚂蚁上树, whose proper name is ants climbing a tree, but I tweaked the translation a little. It’s a Sichuan dish that usually consists of vermicelli noodles cooked with minced meat (pork I believe) and a bunch of green onions and chopped peppers for spice (my parents also add stuff like wood ear, a fungus, and carrots and don’t add pepper but idk how “authentic” that is because we ain’t from Sichuan lol). For a lot of Chinese dishes you can usually substitute meat with shiitake mushrooms to make it vegetarian/vegan.

I tried to imply that the dish Roshan was planning to make is ash reshteh, a Persian dish of thick noodle soup with various herbs, onions, and peas. Kashk or yogurt whey is also a component of the soup and gives it its signature rich sour flavor. Because reshteh noodles are believed to bring good luck, ash reshteh is typically served around the Persian New Year, Nowruz, and at important events, but it can be theoretically be eaten at any time.