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whereisten · 4 years

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Gentle Monsters

Summary: After a night of running from a wild animal, you meet Johnny, the owner of the conservatory greenhouse you accidentally broke into. Johnny is kind and sweet—a little too sweet.

Pairing: Werewolf!Johnny X female reader

Warnings: horror, violence, blood and gore, mentions of scars and bruises, angst, supernatural powers, death, profanity, smut (fingering, penetration, breast fondling, dry humping), manipulation, obsession, possessiveness, yandere themes.

Word count: 12.1K

(A/n: wow wow wowwww this is it you guys! I hope you enjoy the last installment of this fic 🥺 it’s my personal favorite fic that I’ve written so I’m kinda sad to finish it, but thank you all for your continuous support that keeps me going, it’s almost been a year!! Wow! Pls read until the very enddd❤️)

—————

Yuta was ruthless. He never gave you time to breathe once he attacked you. He’d grab your wrist and kick your chest, sending you into the rough cement in his backyard.

“Do you like being best friends with the floor. Get up and fight. If you can’t take a hit from me, a human, how on Earth do you think you’ll survive a werewolf’s attack?” Yuta looked up at the bright sun while you panted on all fours.

“Human? I’m not so sure about that. I mean..you don’t have to go easy on me..but..fuck..please..can we go slower? This is just..a lot.” You pleaded, not realizing that Yuta was walking up to you quickly.

He kicked you in your rib, making you groan in pain and collapse over onto your back. You laid there and struggled to move as Yuta planted his right foot on your chest.

On top of never being the best at physical things, you were still healing from the effects of the killer pregnancy. Your body was fragile.

“Go easy? You’re pathetic, you don’t stand a chance.”

You hugged yourself as you tried to pull his heavy foot off of you. Tears started to run down the sides of your face while you cried and grew hot with anger. It was the second day of training and Yuta expected you fight like Bruce Lee.

“We haven’t even touched the katana’s yet..do you want to die, huh? Because if I don’t kill you by the end of this, I’m sure Johnny will.”

“Fuck you!” You screamed.

Yuta lifted his foot off of your chest and stepped back. “Get up, show me how angry you are.”

You picked yourself up and looked down at your bruised knuckles. Yuta made you spend hours boxing bags of sand until your hands bled, yet you couldn’t fight him, you could never land a punch.

“Johnny was right to choose you.. he knew you were weak, he knew you didn’t stand a chance against him..” Yuta was pushing your buttons now. Would you cry? Would you become furious? He didn’t know, but he hoped it would be the latter. He hoped that you would use that anger to fuel your attacks. The fact that Johnny had put you through so much shit was the the only thing that gave Yuta hope for you.

Yuta stepped closer to you.

“You didn’t put up a fight, you ignored all the signs, and then what? You ran away..oh, and let’s not forget.. you needed the help of another werewolf to get away from him. You couldn’t do it on your own.. and why’s that, y/n? Hm?”

Yuta tilted his head. He took your chin in his hand and watched as your eyes grew watery and your face lose color.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet even when he was being condescending.

You shook your head, too caught up in his words to know how to respond. So many emotions ran through your mind. You were upset, sad, heartbroken, confused. Everything all at once.

“What’s wrong? Wolf got your tongue?” He chuckled.

And at that moment, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. You quickly swat his hand away and lay a punch to his jaw. But he recovers fast and grabs your hair, pulling your head back while you cry out in pain.

But you don’t let this pain distract you, you kneel him in the rib and punch him again while he doubles over.

Yuta is caught off guard by your swift actions and doesn’t know how to respond. So you take this opportunity to swipe a leg through his, making him fall onto the ground hard as he loses balance.

He tried to get up but you swing your foot into his side just like he did to you a few minutes ago. You realize that your foot won’t apply as much pressure as his, so you decide to put your entire body weight on himself sit on his chest.

You’re about to lay another punch to his beautiful face, but he grabs your wrist and swings his body over yours so you are under him now.

You grunt and throw your fist with your free hand into the side that you had previously kicked. Yuta groans in pain once more, but his grip on your wrist doesn’t loosen.

Instead, he grabs both flailing wrists and holds them above your head. He’s tightening his fingers around them so tight, you can almost feel and hear your bones start to break. You scream.

“Yuta!”

“Tell me what you are! Tell me why Johnny did this to you!” Yuta growled as your cried out in indescribable pain. Your hits didn’t seem to phase or impress him.

“Fuck you, Yuta! Get off of me!”

Yuta only smirked. His dark eyes widening, he takes pleasure in seeing you suffer like this, especially after you dared to hit him.

He dug his thumb into your rib, the same place he had kicked earlier. Your scream grows louder.

“Weak! I’m weak!!” Tears escape as you struggle to ignore the pains in all parts of your body.

Yuta lets you go and lifts himself off of you.

He rolls his neck as he looks down at you condescendingly.

You roll over onto your side and hug yourself while you cry.

“You’re weak, you’re soft, but worst of all, you’re wasting my time.” He says lowly as he steps into his house and closes the sliding door, locking you out to make you sleep outside in the cold once again.

You looked up when you heard the clicking of the door. Was he opening it up for you? Would he finally let you sleep inside?

“Tako!” He clicked his tongue to get his cat’s attention. You didn’t even notice that Tako had been watching you cry quietly.

He quickly ran inside and you heard the door slide and lock again.

Yuta was half-hoping that this treatment would make you give up and leave. A part of him didn’t care about this drama you were in. But another part of him wanted you to grow stronger. He could see the hurt in your eyes and he doesn’t know why he’s decided to care. He hates that he feels sympathy for someone he just met. You needed to be tougher, but he wasn’t sure how much time you had before Johnny would find you and put you to the test. Yuta couldn’t help but be worried for you.

——————

[A Month Later]

Your training with Yuta got better steadily. You were slow at first, but with practice you started to trust yourself and your body more.

Yuta helped you develop your physical as well as mental well-being. You had grown to be more spiritual, seeing yourself as a being with infinite talents.

“You have to feel every movement in your heart first, then you have to visualize it. But you must do it quickly. Werewolves get off on fear, they smell it, they anticipate it. And if Johnny is as powerful as you say, he’ll smell your fear from a mile away. He’ll know what you plan to do before you do. So you have to be unpredictable.”

Yuta sat across from you with his arms over his crossed legs. His gaze was intense as he spoke. His black hair tied out of his face and his expression stern.

The two of you had gotten to know each other over the weeks, you weren’t best friends or anything, but you felt safe around him.

He still spoke harsh words to make you angry, but you had gotten used to his method of teaching and learned not to take it personally.

Apart from having to eat alone, sleep outside on cold gravel, and adorn bruises in new spots on the daily..living with Yuta wasn’t that bad.

“Johnny has super strength and speed, but he’s not like Jaehyun, he can’t read minds.” You said quietly.

“Doesn’t matter. He’ll still get to you before you even draw the string on your crossbow or pull out your katana.”

Yuta sighed and looked at the ground before continuing.

“We can only be thankful that we do know his one weakness.”

Your brows furrowed. “What’s that?”

He looked up at you and chuckled. “You. It’s you. If he’s this intent on finding you..you were more than just the carrier of his baby..you have a piece of his heart. He clearly can’t let you go.”

You shook your head. “I doubt it, he doesn’t care about me and even if he did, how does that give me the upper hand?”

“Y/n...you really are naive..” Yuta shook his head.

“Johnny has a lust for power..but he also has a lust for you.”

Yuta stands up and draws out his sword.

“Stand up.”

You stand up quickly and grab your katana. The two of you had done this before. You’d fight for what felt like hours with your katana, and you always ended up with cuts on your neck and arms.

But you thought about what Yuta said today. You really thought about your movement. You visualized your attack before actually making it.

You went back and forth, clinking the swords together, making sure to block each other’s attacks so you wouldn’t be sliced open like fresh pieces of meat. It was difficult and scary, you could die at any moment. But what did you have to lose?

Yuta was shocked by your determination. At the end of the day, you always ended up with multiple cuts along your perfect skin, yet you kept going.

He could see the passion in your eyes, you were growing and becoming a fighter, you were no longer filled with immense sadness. You were filled with a beautiful fire that he wanted to nurture and grow even more.

Your robe had come loose slightly as you spun around with the katana after blocking his attack. The move revealed the soft skin of your chest and cleavage, causing him to become distracted for a split second.

You were able to swipe the blade across his abdomen. He cried out and fell to the ground on his knees.

“Shit! Yuta!” You dropped your katana and kneeled down in front of him.

Yuta only chuckled. “It’s okay, that was good.”

“I’m so sorry!” You apologized and took his hand away from his center so you could see how bad the cut was.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that deep, but it sure as hell hurts.” Yuta looked up at you and adored your face. Your eyes wide with worry, your lips parted, your delicate face decorated by sweat and straggly hairs that escaped your ponytail.

Your eyes drifted upwards to his and you caught his stare. You didn’t notice that you had been holding his hand even as you examined the wound.

You also didn’t notice that your robe was lose until he glanced down.

“Oh.” You became frazzled and quickly tied your robe.

Yuta smirked at how nervous you got and stood up. “That’s it for today. We’ll start with the crossbow tomorrow.” He groaned and headed back inside his house.

“Yuta..” you looked to the ground as you called his name, still embarrassed by your exposed skin.

He turned and winced at the pain.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You were still worried.

Yuta smiled for the first time, and it was amazing. It was like the sun had personally come down to greet you. It was beautiful and brought about a ridiculously handsome look to the already gorgeous man.

You wished he would smile more. Would it take him getting hurt more for you to see this daily?

“I’m fine, I’ve stitched myself up more times that I can remember.” He started to close the door, but stopped.

“Actually, you said you were a bartender, right?”

You ran into Yuta’s kitchen and gathered all the ingredients you needed.

Yuta was getting his first aid kit together while you whipped up a delicious alcoholic beverage.

“Make it strong, I don’t want to feel this shit.” He yelled out from the bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you watched the vodka fill his glass and disperse the cocktail or lemon juice, sparkling water and berries you collected from his garden. It has been a while since you did what you do best, so you were happy to mix a drink for him.

Y/n..

A voice suddenly entered your ear. It was a soft whisper, but you swore the person was right behind you. You turned around quickly, but saw nothing.

Yuta was still in the bathroom, you could hear the water running.

Y/n...

The voice said again and your heart started to race when you recognized the voice.

“Johnny?” You called out, your grip around the glass grew weak, your eyes became watery, your breathing became shallow. A chill in the air made you shiver.

Time stood still for a moment and you didn’t know what to do. Johnny was nowhere to be found. Were you just imagining things?

“What’s wrong?” Yuta said once he walked into the kitchen and saw the look on your face.

You looked back at him and shook your head. “It’s nothing.. here.” You gave a small smile and handed him the glass from your trembling hands.

He took the glass but stepped close to you, locking you in between him and the counter.

“Don’t lie to me, what happened?” He knew something was wrong when you started crying suddenly.

You shivered. “I-I don’t know, Yuta..I thought I heard him..but I..”

Yuta’s eyes grew and he looked to the floor. “He’s trying to find you..”

“How does he still do this to me, Yuta? I feel like..I can’t breathe..my heart, it wants me to go to him.”

“Don’t...” Yuta turned away from you and headed to the dining room.

He groaned as he sat down slowly.

“You have to remember what he put you through, always remember your pain first and foremost. It’s difficult to remember the pain our loved ones brought us, but we have to in order to be stronger.” Yuta gulped the strong drink down.

You nodded and wiped your eyes. “How’s your wound?”

Yuta closed his eyes tightly as the bitter taste of the alcohol settled in.

He lifted up his shirt to show you a wound almost completely healed.

Your eyes grew. “W-Wait, how-“

“We have witches and herbs here too, you know.” He winked.

You nodded and turned to leave.

But before you did, you turned to him to ask one last question.

“What happened to you, Yuta? How did you become this..a hunter? And why did you stop?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?” Yuta rolled his eyes.

“The truth always comes out when you’re drunk.” You have him a playful wink and smile.

You just wanted a distraction, something to lighten the mood and make you forget about the monster that was so close to finding you. The monster that still made you tremble.

And Yuta knew this. He knew you were shaken up by it, so he caved. He had a painful past too, but he didn’t mind sharing it with you for some reason.

“I was in love once..I was happy..” Yuta looked on the centerpiece that sat on the dining table. It was a small sculpture of a beautiful ballerina.

You sat down across from him and waited for him to continue. He swallowed hard.

“But my younger brother..he grew jealous of me, he had a young love that passed away suddenly of an incurable illness. And when he passed, my brother grew heartless, he hated happiness. He hated anyone that lived happily, because he couldn’t. His lover never got the chance to be happy.. death had snatched him away, but why? Why couldn’t death take someone else? Why him?”

You felt sadness wash over you as you thought of the pain Yuta’s brother endured.

“A year passed and he barely spoke to me, he lived alone and stayed away from us, his family. But once I got married to Hina..my dear Hina..” Yuta’s frowned turned into a small smile as he started to think of the wonderful memories he shared with Hina.

He cleared his throat. “Once I got married..I started to see my brother more often..and I thought he was getting over his lover’s death, I thought he was moving on and finally deciding to spend more time with me...but I was wrong.” Yuta looked up at you and gritted his teeth.

“He betrayed me..he gained my trust, he gained Hina’s trust and one day, he said they were going to the market to pick up vegetables for the family dinner we had planned that evening. At the time, we lived in the city, so I had to clean up our apartment and get things ready while they headed out to the countryside.”

He looked down and blinked slowly. “My brother..took Hina to the werewolves...he was one himself, but at the time I had no idea they even existed. They turned her into one..they manipulated and tricked her so she turned on me. She was no longer my bright Hina that loved cherry pie and Pikachu. She became...a monster, something I couldn’t recognize.”

“I tried to hold onto her when my brother brought her to me to boast about what he’d done. He laughed as I cried and felt pain, telling me that the alpha had rewarded him greatly for bringing a woman that he could turn and impregnate. The alpha was growing an army of werewolves in the woods and needed more women. I tried to make her stay, tried to tell her that I’d love her regardless of what she was..but..” Yuta choked up. He had never shown this much emotion to you before.

“You don’t have to continue, Yuta..I’m sorry.”

But he swallowed hard and continued, wiping away his tears and staring at the table. “She called me a fool and left me, she said she never loved me and that she belonged to her alpha. I didn’t fight hard enough.. I didn’t try. They would taunt me some nights. I would have dreams of being with her. Dreams of walking under cherry blossom trees, holding hands as we feed birds and swimming in crystal blues lakes. Sweet dreams that I wanted to live in forever, then they’d turn into nightmares. I’d wake up after feeling like I’ve been scratched or bitten.”

“Then one day she appeared in my apartment with her alpha. She was happy and pregnant, her alpha was always holding her close, kissing her cheek in front of me. And I couldn’t do anything, I was powerless. My brother got what he wanted. He wanted someone else to feel the pain of losing someone they loved, someone they’d cross the Earth for.”

“I still loved her.. I only wanted the best for her..but they started to hunt and kill people in our town as their pack grew. I knew I had to stop them. I trained. I told myself I was doing it so I could stop them, but really..I thought becoming a hunter would give me the chance to get her back..”

Your eyes widened. You wondered what happened next.

“I..killed them..all of them..I saved her for last because she was merciless. She was incredibly strong, and fought me like she didn’t know who I was. At the last moment, she grabbed a child from a nearby village as I chased her through the woods. She was going to eat her so I had to shoot an arrow into her chest.. I tried to save her..but I couldn’t. Ever since then, I’ve tried to save innocent people from those terrible beasts. I’ve made a name for myself as a werewolf hunter and fought the worst of the worst. Jaehyun hates me so much, he got me put on the no-fly list so I can’t leave this place. But I don’t care...I don’t regret anything. The only thing I regret is ever having the nerve to trust someone.”

He paused.

His eyes started to tear up again as he looked on the smiling ballerina.

“She was a dancer..the best..”

“Yuta..” you reached out to hold his hand but he pulled away and stood up.

“Now you know why I’m like this..it’s time for you to leave.”

Your mouth fell open, you didn’t know what to say, but Yuta didn’t want to hear it anyway.

He knew you pitied him, and a part of him was embarrassed to get this personal with someone that he had no future with.

You nodded and got up.

“I’m sorry.” You say and you’re about to open the sliding door but he stops you.

“Y/n..where are you going? It’s raining.” Yuta runs a hand through his hair once he realizes that his tone was unnecessarily harsh towards you.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve slept in the rain, Yuta.”

Yuta walks up to you and places a hand on the door to keep you from opening it.

You look up into his eyes and furrow your brows.

He licks his lips and breathed heavily. “Sleep here..in my bed..”

Your eyes widen.

“I mean, not with me in it..” Yuta rolls his eyes. “If you get sick, it’ll only slow down your training and I can’t have that, so sleep in here after you shower.”

Yuta walks away as your mouth falls open.

You never would’ve thought he’d let you sleep in the house let alone his bed.

Maybe he was a nice man.

“W-where will you sleep?” You ask.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a sweet hammock with my name on it.”

Yuta plops down into the hammock in his living room. You never noticed it, but it did look comfortable.

“Pspspsps..” he calls over Tako who happily jumps into his lap as the hammock swings back and forth gently.

Tako curls into his lap while Yuta’s head falls back. He closes his eyes and rests his hands on the back of his head.

You laugh to yourself quietly and turn the lights off before heading to the bathroom.

—————

You wake upon a plush bed for the first time in months . It feels heavenly so as the daylight pours in through the blinds, you smile to yourself and hug the blanket over you.

But then, everything clicks, you jump up in the bed and realize that it’s not yours. You stand up and quickly fix the pillows and smooth the sheets.

You leave the room and walk around the house quietly, trying not to wake Yuta up.

Yuta, however, is nowhere to be found, you look over to the hammock and see that he’s not in it anymore, nor is he in the kitchen.

Tako is still eating his breakfast from his bowl in the kitchen.

“Your father just fed you, so where is he?”

You open the sliding door to the backyard and hear water splashing. When you walk around the bushes and go deeper into it, you see Yuta is taking a bath in a large stone that was placed in the ground and shaped like a tub. You always bathed in it, but never thought he used it since he always used the shower in his bathroom.

It was hidden in the center of shrubs and flowers, but you peeked through a small opening and looked on him.

This is wrong, isn’t it? Hmmm a peak won’t hurt.

You look onto Yuta radiant skin, created and graced by the gods themselves. His waist slender but his arms were quite brawny.

His skin was littered in scars. He had been through so much in his life as a hunter, and his scars showed that it wasn’t easy. It took a toll on him physically and mentally as well. You understood why he no longer hunted.

Yuta turns to rinse his chest and stomach now and you bite your lips at the site of the water running down him. His abs and pecs are strong and sculpted, his wet hair is slicked back, revealing his dark, long lashes and high cheekbones. He so perfect it almost seems like he’s moving in slow motion. It’s like he’s shooting a commercial for some expensive cologne.

Just when your mind starts to run wild with lustful thoughts, you feel a light scratch on your ankle.

You yelp and look down at the source.

It’s Tako, gazing up at you with those big green eyes. He’s clearly not amused by you watching his father bathe.

But your sound of shock gives your location away. You look back up at Yuta and see that he is still rinsing himself off. Maybe he didn’t hear you.

You hurriedly tip toe away and back into the house.

Yuta smirks to himself and thinks about how cute you are, peeping through bushes to watch him bathe.

———————

[A Week Later]

You continue to improve and become familiar with the crossbow. Yuta tells you all about it and how the arrows must be covered in silver to make any sort of impact.

Your aim becomes better, but you have to be faster.

“If a werewolf is coming at you full speed, you can’t hesitate.” Yuta looks into your eyes. He stands to your side and places his hand over yours on the arrow.

He has to step closer to you so that you can draw the arrow back together. You feel his hot breath on you, you smell his fresh scent and feel the warmth of his body on yours. His hands are rough, but he touches you ever so lightly.

Sweat formulates on your forehead as you breathe heavily.

“And just like that..” his voice comes out in a low whisper.

“Release.”

When you both let the arrow go, it shoots straight through the center of the mannequin’s chest.

Yuta still stands close to you. You turn to look up at him as he stares into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“That was weak, what were you thinking about?” Yuta is intimidating. It’s like he always knows when you’re not focused.

“Nothing, Yuta. I just..” you stumbled over your words.

“Just what? Thinking about last week when you watched me bathe?”

You blink fast. “I..wasn’t watching you..what are you talking about?”

“I’m a werewolf hunter, you can’t hide from me, y/n.” Yuta smirked.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You walk towards the mannequin to remove the arrow.

Yuta stepped back and chuckled. “Suuuure.”

You rolled your eyes, but silently curse yourself.

There’s a growing tension between you and Yuta and you can’t explain it, but the more familiar the two of you got with each other, the more you wanted from him. Yeah, maybe the two of you were emotionally unstable, but that didn’t stop you from wanting a physical connection with someone. Yuta would touch you more, he’d let you sleep in his bed while he slept on the hammock, and now, he started to cook for you.

He was doing the bare minimum, but it meant so much to you and you couldn’t help but look on him fondly.

Later that evening, you’re taking your usual evening bath. You lay back and enjoy the warm water that soothes your aching body, your arms laid out along the sides. The soft breeze and gentle, dimming sunset makes you feel euphoric. You close your eyes and try to clear your head, unaware of the peeping eyes that now watched you.

Yuta watched the way your head fell back and you neck elongated. Your hair shiny and long lashes darkened by the water.

You looked incredibly beautiful in the sunset, he had to watch you. He had been watching you since you washed your back and revealed the large scars on it. He wondered how you had gotten them since Johnny never seemed to have hurt you.

You hear the bushes shuffle a little bit as Yuta makes noise on purpose to scare you.

Your eyes flicker open and you look to the side that you heard the noise from.

“Hello?” You call out and sit up straight in the large tub.

Yuta steps out from the bushes, he looks into your eyes and doesn’t hide his stare even when you cover your chest with your arms. It looks like he’s just left the shower as he stands in front of you in only a silk robe and his long, wet hair.

“Yuta...” you call out his name in a sweet, but low tone. He steps closer and you relax, removing your arms from your chest and sinking back down.

“What happened to your back?” Yuta’s gaze is hungry and you want him to come closer.

“Tell me about your battle wounds..and I’ll tell you about mine..” you tilt your head to tell him to come inside the tub with you.

Yuta drapes his robe off and steps into the tub. He steps closer to you, your back hitting the edge as you can’t back away any more.

“It’s not so nice being watched, is it?” Yuta smirks.

“Well..I don’t mind it, as long as it’s you.” You whisper but you look at his lips as you speak, ready to feel them on yours.

Yuta leans forward and kisses you, his tongue instantly darting across the plump surface for entrance. You hold onto his back and press his body closer to yours. You kissed with a sense of urgency, like you had both been longing for this moment for some time.

Your heart beat fast as he bit your bottom lip lightly then kisses your jawline. His steamy breath decorates it while his hand runs through your hair.

The warm water feels amazing on your two bodies joined together like intertwined fingers.

Yuta cups your breast, massaging the nipple in between his thumb and index finger while he watched your mouth fall open.

He kisses your mouth once again, kissing it sloppily and with haste as your whines push him along.

Yuta continues to mark the delicate skin of your neck while massaging your scalp.

You take his face into your hands and look into his eyes deeply. You bite your lips.

“Touch me.”

Yuta kisses you again, never letting go this time while you wrap your arms around his neck and let your body float upwards in the water.

Your legs wrap around his waist. You feel Yuta run his hands up and down your thighs before running his fingers along your slit.

You shiver at the light touch on your sensitive skin, but whimper quietly.

He pushes his fingers into you, letting go of your lips once more so he can watch you shudder at the feeling of his fingers inside you.

You reach down and stroke his member as he continued to push his long fingers into you, his thumb drawing circles on your bud while you cry out his name.

He groans as he feels your soft hand pumping him and rubbing along his tip.

He can’t seem to focus now as the feeling begins to take over, he stares at your naked body, your breasts rising up and down in the water as you ride his fingers, the way your mouth stays open as he stretches you out.

You let go of his member and place your legs down. You turn around and push your butt out as you hold onto the edge of the tub.

“Fuck me, Yuta.”

Yuta gently places your hair to the right side of your neck so he can see your beautiful face as he takes you from behind. He places small kisses on the exposed side before holding your waist and pulling you back towards him. Pushing into you slowly while you gasp.

He takes both wrists in his hand and places them above your head before pushing in and out of you, taking his time so he can feel your walls tighten around his veiny member.

His thrusts are slow but hard, hitting your sweet spot once he finally pushes in all the way.He groans when you clench around him, throwing his head back to keep his hair from falling in his face.

The water splashes onto the ground as he moves faster. Your whimpers grow louder and your satiny walls start to clench around him without control, driving him crazy. He kisses your lips while he makes sultry, hot love to you during the sunset. His chest covers your back and you feel safe. The love Yuta makes to you feels sincere, he kisses you like he can’t let go, like he needs your love to breathe.

And when he isn’t kissing you, his touch is gentle. He gazed at you like you’re a precious gift.

His hips snap into you and you cry out his name. He grunts and starts to rub your clit again with his other hand.

You can feel the bruise start to form on your neck as Yuta sucks on it harder.

Yuta kisses your lips then looks into your eyes as he rubs and pushes in faster. “Cum for me, baby.” he leans into your ear and whispers lowly.

You quiver around him as you climax, a loud moan leaving your mouth as you become dizzy and your eyes close tightly.

Yuta climaxes after, still kissing your lips as he comes. His movement slows and you both breathe heavily once your done kissing.

He pulls out and steps away to the opposite side of the tub while you turn around.

Yuta brushes his hair back with his fingers, his face looking stressed as he looks into the water.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Nothing.” Yuta says sternly, his tone and mood is the complete opposite of what it was just minutes ago.

Did he regret doing this? Was he thinking about Hina?

“Yuta-“ you start but he gets up and walks out of the tub. He swiftly throws his robe on and heads back to the house.

When you dry yourself and head in, you see that he’s already fallen asleep on his hammock.

—————

[Later That Night]

You’re sleeping when you hear an airy voice call your name. You shift on your side and ignore it, thinking it was something from your dream.

But then, you hear it calling you again. You open your eyes lazily and look around for Yuta.

You squint and see that no one is there in the darkness. So you lean over to the bedside lamp and turn it on.

When you look back at the end of the bed, you’re startled to see Jaehyun..

“Jaehyun?” You whisper his name then jump on the bed and crawl towards him.

“What happened?”

Your eyes widen when you see that Jaehyun’s chest has been ripped open. The bones of his ribcage stick out into the air. He is covered in blood and his face is covered in scars. His chest is hollow and when you look closer, you see that it’s empty, no heart rests in the cavity.

Your eyes start to tear up. “J-Jaehyun..”

Jaehyun looked away from your eyes. He exhales then sits on the foot of your bed. You rush to sit beside him and look at him questioningly.

“He won, y/n. I tried..but..I wasn’t strong enough.” His voice was somber, his eyes low as he stared at the floor. This was unlike him, he was quiet, sad, defeated.

You reach out to hold his hand, but your hand falls onto the bed and that’s when you realize what else is different with Jaehyun. He doesn’t have a glow about him because you’re dreaming, no, he glows because he’s a ghost.

Jaehyun looks at you while your mouth falls open.

“He..he did this to you?”

“Yes..and he’ll do the same to you. You have to stay away from him. When you ran away, father died shortly after. Johnny lost it. He started killing anyone that would challenge or disagree with him..”

Jaehyun looks to the floor again.

“I couldn’t stop him..I don’t think anyone can. Don’t go back, y/n, you can’t go back.”

You swallowed hard. “I have to stop him. I have to-“

“You don’t understand! He’s powerful, by killing me he’s attained my abilities. He’s still trying to harness them, but in no time he’ll be unstoppable once he controls them. He told me that he will find you and kill you since he can’t have you, y/n. He’s furious that you ran away.”

Jaehyun’s voice got louder. He furrowed his brows and looked at you with anger.

You drew in a sharp breath. “So it was him..”

You thought about the afternoon when you were in the kitchen and heard his voice. Johnny was using telepathy he attained from Jaehyun and was trying to find you.

“He spoke to me the other day, Jaehyun. What if he already knows where I am.”

“He is still in the learning phase. It takes much energy to find someone that is thousands of miles away. He won’t be able to find you for now, for sight and touch are the most difficult senses to develop when trying to contact people telepathically.” Jaehyun’s face relaxes.

“I’m going to kill him, Jaehyun..” tears run down your cheeks as you look at the final state of Jaehyun before his death. You could tell he put up a fight.

Jaehyun closes his eyes and sighs. “I had a feeling you’d say that...it seems I can’t stop you either.”

“I can’t run away forever, he’ll think I’m afraid and he doesn’t deserve that satisfaction.” You shake your head.

“If you do decide to fight him, you have to do it soon. He’ll kill more people to get stronger. He’ll destroy towns until he gets to you. He has broken the laws of nature because he knows no one can stop him. There is an imbalance that can only be corrected if he is stopped.”

Jaehyun looks around and down at his hands as he starts to fade.

Your eyes widen. “W-what’s happening? Don’t leave me, please.” You beg but Jaehyun only smiles.

“I don’t have much time, I transferred all of my funds to the credit card I gave you. I had a feeling that everything would go to shit fast, so I forged a marriage license between us. Everything from my life insurance policy will go to that card, because I listed you as the beneficiary. I told my some guys I know not to look for you, but to make sure everything runs smoothly in case I’m gone..”

“W-Wait, Wait..we’re married? How-“

Your brows furrow.

“I have connections, baby.” He gives a wink, but his tone turns more serious when he glances down to your lips.

“We could’ve been great, you and me...” Jaehyun says softly. “I’m sorry I was greedy, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him in time. This is the least I can do to help you.”

“Jaehyun..” you tried to touch him again, but felt nothing but cool air at your finger tips.

“Live as I would live, y/n. Take care of yourself. I hope you can forgive me.” Jaehyun leans forward and kisses your forehead. You barely feel it as he starts to disappear completely.

You burst into tears. “No..no, don’t leave.”

But Jaehyun is no longer there. It’s just you now on the bed, you hold your face in your hands and sob quietly.

—————

[A Week Later]

Doyoung is gathering medicine from trees in the woods behind his house, he places them into his basket and heads back to his house.

Once he enters it, he notices that something isn’t right. The air is different, the smell is putrid. Something smells of death.

When he looks down, he sees that the trail of wolf’s bane he placed on the floor has been disturbed, it’s no longer straight and has been broken in the middle.

Doyoung’s eyes grow, he looks around and listens closely.

“You dare to enter the house of a witch without permission?”

Doyoung sees Johnny with his all-Seeing eye, he’s looking around his bedroom while Doyoung stands still at the doorway waiting for him to appear.

Johnny turns the corner and walks slowly towards Doyoung.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, Doyoung.” Johnny’s voice comes out gravelly.

Doyoung looks sternly at Johnny, he already knows why he is there. He knows that Johnny has gone on a killing spree since you ran away. He’s dangerous and from the look on his grim face, his red eyes and messy hair, he can tell that he hasn’t slept for days. Doyoung can also smell the blood on his hands, he can hear the screams of both innocent people and other werewolves, he can see the fear in their eyes as Johnny took their lives away.

It’s too much for Doyoung, it makes him sick. He knows Johnny has broken the laws of nature and deserves to die for it, but he didn’t want to challenge him alone. He would need multiple witches to take him down with him and they were nowhere to be found.

“You must leave.” Doyoung turns to his kitchen and starts to take his herbs from his basket.

Meanwhile, Johnny tried to read Doyoung’s mind, he tries to access his thoughts and previous conversations in an effort to find out where you are.

But Doyoung has protected his mind with a spell, no one can read it.

Johnny curses to himself and feels the fury in his chest start to build. The desire to kill grows strong. He’s so angry he can’t control it, every time he thinks he gets closer to finding you, he gets blocked and ends up with nothing. But not this time, he would see to it that he’d get information.

He looks around Doyoung’s place, sniffing so that he can pick up your scent. If you did get rid of his baby, Doyoung was the closest witch to town. Jaehyun would’ve surely taken you here.

“Where is she, Doyoung?” Johnny walks around calmly, and right then, he picks up a subtle scent of your hair from the corner of the center room.

He walks over to it. And closes his eyes, tapping into his telepathic ability to hear and see what exactly happened in that corner.

But he has no luck. He only smells you, so he knows for sure that you were there.

“I don’t know who ‘she’ is, I’ve been alone for quite some time now.” Doyoung responds, still tending to his herbs.

“You’re lying to me and I don’t like being lied to..” Johnny chuckles. “I can smell her.”

Doyoung sighs. “You’re a fool, even if I did know where she is, I have no obligation to answer to you. You’re pathetic and a coward, killing everyone to find her. She ran away from you for a reason, Johnny. Just let her go.”

Johnny’s expression grows serious. “Tell me where she is, and you won’t get hurt like the others.”

Doyoung scoffs and turns to him. He places his herbs down then walks over to Johnny.

He swings his hand and the front door to his house flies open.

“Are you threatening me? Do I need to remind you of what will happen if you kill a witch? There’s the door, get out.”

And Doyoung was right. Johnny was breaking many rules, but the one rule he couldn’t break was to kill a witch. Centuries ago, supernatural creatures made an agreement that they would all be bound to. And in that agreement, a law states that a werewolf’s supernatural abilities would only remain in tact if they agreed to never kill a witch. Furthermore, they would be instantly beheaded by the High Priestess, the oldest witch on Earth.

Johnny knew he couldn’t break this rule, but he also knew that he wanted to send a message to all supernatural creatures.

“Who said anything about killing you?” Johnny gives a devilish smile, his eyes grow into a stronger, deeper shade of red. Doyoung’s brows furrowed and he backs away.

Johnny uses his elongating claws and grabs Doyoung’s neck. He raises him until Doyoung’s feet dangle two feet above the floor.

Doyoung tightens his hand around Johnny’s wrist as he struggles to breathe.

With his other hand, Doyoung motions for a wooden chair to fly into Johnny’s back, but Johnny uses telekinesis to stop it from colliding into him, causing it to shatter into one hundred pieces.

His hand tightens around Doyoung’s throat as his face turns red.

The Johnny you knew wouldn’t have done this, but that Johnny was gone. He was now a tiny voice in the back of the head of a monster.

“Since you won’t tell me, I’ll make sure you never speak to anyone else again.” Johnny smirks, his eyes grow and he uses his other hand to force Doyoung’s mouth open.

Doyoung screams when Johnny pierces the center of his tongue with his big, sharp nail.

He then uses it as a hook and tugs it, ripping Doyoung’s tongue out of his wide open mouth.

Blood gushes out from Doyoung’s mouth, he starts to choke on it. He’s in so much pain, he doesn’t know what to do. If he should attack Johnny or think of a spell to reattach it.

His tongue flies onto the floor as Johnny drops his body. Doyoung cries, holding his bleeding mouth with one hand. He reaches out to his tongue with the other hand and attempts to pull it towards him, but Johnny picks it up and tosses it into his mouth, his fangs tearing through the tough and thick organ before swallowing it.

Johnny laughs loudly and licks his lips.

Doyoung tries to cry out “No,” but he can’t, he can no longer make any sound.

In a fit of rage, Doyoung motions to a glass of hogweed sitting on his counter.

He tries to throw it at Johnny, in an effort to blind him, but Johnny quickly reverses Doyoung’s telekinetic action, forcing it back to Doyoung. The glass shatters and the powdered hogweed enters Doyoung’s eyes.

Doyoung now rubs his eyes as the sharp, stabbing pain rubs throughout his entire body.

He flops on the floor, unable to think of what to do to ease the pain. Johnny looks down on him and tilts his head.

“You can’t see, cant talk..what good are you now as a witch?” Johnny chuckles and steps over him before heading out the door.

—————

[The Next Day]

Johnny uses his acquired senses from killing Jaehyun to reach out to you in your dreams.

He thinks that he is able to finally harness the ability. He wants to see your surroundings, but even more, he wants to see you, touch you, feel you again.

He sits up in the center or his dark room and crosses his legs. He is surrounded by the old silk robe you left, a hair tie you used to use, and your silver ring that he had to pick up with tongs. Having your things around him would allow him to bring about your image in his mind.

His eyes close, his eyes roll in the back of his head and he breathes slowly, he drifts into his dark mind, gradually forgetting about everything else and only focusing on his memory of you.

After a few minutes, he finds you.

He sees that you’re sleeping in a bed, but he can’t figure out exactly where you are.

Your room is pretty plain, you cover yourself tightly with white sheets.

He looks down on you as you sleep quietly. He makes note that it’s nighttime where you are but daytime where he is, you’re no longer in the same country as him.

He looks out of the window in your room, and sees a few bushes but nothing that stands out.

So he turns back to you, adoring the way you’re curled up and you’re lips are pouted. He hasn’t seen you in so long, his human heart jumps in happiness for the first time in weeks.

He felt a tinge of hope when he had called out to you a few weeks ago and you said his name. He knew he was getting close. But now, he needed to know if he could finally touch you.

He gently rubs his finger across your face, his breath hitching in his throat and eyes widening when he feels the soft, cool skin of your cheek.

He starts to smile and sits down on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to wake up.

“Oh, my love, where are you?”

He says lowly.

Your eyes open slowly, you rub them with your small fists and squint.

“Hello? Who’s there?” You ask, but as your eyes focus, you see a pair of glowing red eyes and jump up in your bed.

You turn on the light and start to pant.

“J-Johnny? How did you-“

You’re shocked to see Johnny, he’s stronger and still handsome but his eyes are darker, they’re no longer doe eyes of kindness, they’re eyes of horror. He’s nothing like how he was when you were together.

He smiles as he looks at you and takes in your features.

You look around nervously when you realize that he might know where you are, but then you remember that he doesn’t know you’re with Yuta because Yuta sleeps on the hammock in the next room. If he’s contacting you telepathically, then he can only see your room.

You sit up straight and calm yourself.

“I know why you’re here, Johnny, I know your plan, I know that you lied to me!”

“I’m sorry..y/n..” he reaches out and places his large hand on yours.

“You were gonna kill me! You got me pregnant just so you could be the alpha! You told me..you loved me.” You couldn’t help but cry as you watched the monster in front of you, what did he do with man you once loved?

Johnny wipes away your tears, his face full of regret and sadness once he sees you cry.

His human side had taken over now, it always did when he thought about you, you made him weak, you calmed him down, made him remember he had a heart. It made him...human.

“Shhh don’t cry..I was going to save you, y/n.” The werewolf within him chuckles as he hears himself lie.

You know you couldn’t save her.

“Come back to me please..I miss you.” Johnny swallows hard and scoots closer to you.

You know that Johnny is trying to lure you in, but with each touch you remember all the moments you had together. The summer days you spent laughing and talking, the winter nights you spent cuddled up and watching horror movies. The days at the conservatory when you would walk around and listen to him talk about the beautiful shrubs and flowers in it. You would watch him speak with such passion because he clearly loved his job.

You remembered waking up to him cooking breakfast for you, the wonderful omelettes he made. You heard the sounds of the fair you guys went to and his glorious laugh, you saw his smile and felt his lips on yours, it all felt so real, like you were experiencing everything all over again. Johnny was manipulating your emotions, making you see these memories so it could break you.

And it seemed to work.

Johnny holds your face in his hand, he looks into your large eyes and leans down to kiss you. You kiss him back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall weak into his arms like putty. It feels like the first time you kissed, slow and magical, his tongue playfully dancing with yours.

Everything feels so real, his soft lips on yours, his gentle touch.

He lays down beside you while your lips are still attached to his.

You caress his arms as he leans over you and fixes himself between your legs.

He draws the strap of your nightgown down and kisses along your collar bone.

You moan when you feel his broad chest on yours. His fingers prance along the skin of your inner thigh, moving dangerously close to the apex.

He lowers his lips to your chest, bringing the trim of the gown down to reveal your perky nipples. He licks around them while you whimper. You can feel your legs start to waver, you can feel his growing member push against the fabric of your panties.

You push your body upwards and grind against him to increase the friction. Your head falls back and Johnny moans as he continues to rub his covered member along your growing heat.

He sucks hard on your collar bone to decorate it with a bruise. His mind becomes giddy, he smells your beautiful womanhood, he can’t taste your sweet skin, your lovely mewls enter his ears and he silently goes crazy. He finally gets to feel you again. He finally has you under him and in his hands.

You lock eyes for a moment when he pulls away and looks down at you. You cherish his beautiful face, his hair wavy and dangling in front of his forehead. His eyes were softer now, you no longer saw red and he smelled like flowers, the ones he always brought home from his conservatory for you.

He licks his swollen lips then goes back to kissing you. Your kisses become hastier, he pushes into you harder, making sure to feel your covered slit.

“More..more please..” you’re tired of his teasing.

“I can give you more...just tell me where you are..and I’ll be right there..” Johnny sucks your nipple again and listens to you moan.

And you’re so needy and hot that you almost fall for it, you throw your head back once you feel his fingers push into your panties, and trace up and down your needy bud.

“I-“ you start but stop when you hear Jaehyun’s voice echo in the back of your mind.

Or was it more than that?

You quickly glance over to the side while Johnny still kisses your neck and see the ghost of Jaehyun actually in your room again.

You see his bloody chest and it all comes back to you.

“He’s lying. He wants to kill you, y/n. Don’t forget why you’re here.” Jaehyun looks on you sternly.

Your eyes become teary, but Johnny places his lips onto yours again. Your eyes flutter shut and when you open them once again, Jaehyun is gone.

You stop kissing Johnny and holds his face away from yours. He furrows his brows and looks at your lips while breathing heavily.

“I don’t..love you anymore, Johnny.”

Johnny blinks slowly and lifts himself off of you. His eyes become watery as your words echo in his head. He lost you.

You fix your gown and look up at him before swallowing hard.

“I’d like you to leave.”

Johnny’s eyes once filled with regret and yearning are now full of fire. They return to the glowing red color you had seen before.

“You can’t run away from me forever.” He says huskily and holds up his claw with scary, elongated nails. He’s about to gash into your chest, but you stop him.

“I know..I’ll be seeing you soon, Johnny.” You say before grabbing a small knife under your pillow and slicing Johnny’s throat, his apparition disappearing right before your eyes.

Johnny is abruptly transported back to his dull room, he holds his throat and takes in a sharp breath, shocked by how real the attack felt.

You lay back down in your bed and gaze at the ceiling. Johnny almost had you, he almost made you his again. You were weak and you shouldn’t have been.

You had to remember who he really was, what he had done to you.Your mind runs wild with thoughts, you know you can’t go back to sleep, so you decide to practice shooting with your crossbow until the sun rises and another day begins.

—————

[A Month Later]

“Do you think you’re ready?” Yuta asks while wrapping your arms with tape.

“Do you think I am?” You wait for him to look up at you. Ever since you made love, Yuta was hesitant to look into your eyes. He felt something he couldn’t explain.

He does look up at you as he tightens the tape. “I’m worried for you.”

He finally lets out and it’s true, he doesn’t want to get closer to you because he’s not sure if you’ll make it out alive. And he can’t help you because he is forbidden from being involved in supernatural affairs. Not to mention the fact that he’s also on the no-fly list.

He can’t lose another person he cares for.

You purse your lips and look away. “Don’t be. I’m ready.”

You want to get it over with so you can finally be free of Johnny. You want to live your life. What he did to you was unforgivable and he had to pay for it.

You’ve been training for a while and can finally keep up with Yuta’s attacks.

Yuta walks away from you and holds his head low.

“Yuta..will you come with me? We can find someone that can make you a passport, change your identity..”

Yuta shakes his head. “No, I haven’t been involved in werewolf issues for some time, I don’t plan on getting involved now..not even for you.” His tone was cold.

You huff and walk towards the sack of sand you used to practice kick boxing with.

“This so your battle. I will only complicate things” Yuta continues but you stop him.

“That’s not true, Yuta. You’re just scared to lose me. You’re scared that you’ll be the one to blame if I don’t survive.”

Yuta turns to you, his mouth falling open but no words come out, he doesn’t respond.

“I’m not Hina and I’m not your brother, I’ll kill this bastard with or without you.” You can feel the anger in your tone.

“Y/n..I’m sorry.” Yuta says quietly but you’ve already left to gather your things.

Yuta is unsure of how he feels about you, you have a place in his heart and as you spent more time together, that’s peace grew bigger. He’d watch you and fall in love with everything you did, from the way you played with Tako to the way you mixed drinks, the way you washed your hair to your determination. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t think of Hina.

He only thought of you. And the truth was that that one evening he spent making love to you stayed in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. So he decided to distance himself, in fear of the inevitable pain he would experience when you were gone like everyone else.

He knew he was a coward for not saying goodbye to you.

————

[The Next Day]

You’ve arrived back in your hometown alone. You’re nervous and scared, but you know that you must face Johnny, even if you’re on your own.

The town is dark and sad, the streets are empty, the bar you once worked at was permanently closed. Your old apartment was abandoned.

The city had been turned upside down since you left and it was all because of him.

He had killed so many people that residents got scared and fled. The police couldn’t explain or help, and officials in higher levels refused to get involved because even though they knew the source of the madness, they knew better than to challenge it. So instead, they let a small town suffer and ignored the issue.

It’s a cold night, the moon shines brightly above you. At first, you thought it was naive to challenge a werewolf at the time when he’d be strongest, but Yuta taught you that this would be the best time, for his werewolf heart would be more exposed, switching places with his human heart, and thus, making the werewolf side more vulnerable.

Johnny knows you’re in town, he can feel a shift in the air. He knows you’ve come to fight him. All this time he was trying to find you, only to realize that you would come to him and fall right in his trap.

You push the doors to the conservatory open and walk inside it. You can see that the flowers and shrubs have wilted. It’s not like it was before, it was dark and sad, the waterfall in the center no longer poured out crystal water. Everything seemed to be dead or in the process of dying. Everything except the brilliantly green water lilies that looked magical as they floated on the surface of the pond.

The vines drooped down from the glass ceiling and fell into your face as you walked through it.

The once colorful and happy flowers hung low as if to represent the own feeling of defeat and grimness in your heart.

You hold your crossbow by your side, ready to use it at the slightest sound.

“Welcome home, my sweet strawberry shortcake.” Johnny’s voice echoed out, bouncing off of the high ceilings.

You looked around, but couldn’t find him.

“Enough with the games, Johnny.”

You looked to the side carefully, he sounded close but you couldn’t tell which direction he was coming from.

“But I like playing with you..” Johnny says lowly, you can almost hear his pout, but his voice tells you that he’s getting closer.

You listen closely and hear movement above you. You quickly aim your crossbow above you and shoot an arrow towards him. He hangs from the ceiling upside down and lets out a loud road as he dodges the arrow.

He’s fast and disappears from your sight when he drops down to the ground behind a group of ferns.

You quickly reload and hold your crossbow up again. Turning slowly until you get a glimpse of him.

Johnny is caught off guard by your swiftness. The human in him calls out to the werewolf in an attempt to stop himself. He just wants to hold you and love you again. He doesn’t want to fight, but the other part knows that he has to. He knows that there is no hope for the two of you. But you’re making him weak nonetheless. Unlike his other opponents, he still has feelings for you. A part of him doesn’t want to kill you.

While Johnny is in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize that you’ve spotted him.

You quickly pull back the arrow and release it, this time, landing a successful shot into his abdomen.

His wolf form is huge and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, but you try not to be frightened by it. You thought of the very first night you dealt with one of these creatures and reminded yourself that you’re not that scared girl anymore.

You loaded another arrow while Johnny lets out another howl.

Johnny runs around the ferns with his super speed, knocking the crossbow from your hands. But before he does, you’re able to pull back and release another arrow into his shoulder. The contact of the silver and his skin causes a sizzling sound to emit.

Johnny towers over you and swings his claw into your side, scratching you so hard, you’re thrown to the floor twenty feet away.

You’re hoping the two shots make him weaker so you can attack his heart and finish him.

You wince in pain and hold your side as blood gushes out of it.

You start to stand up slowly, but Johnny grabs you by the throat and holds you up high.

“Let’s not fight. Make this easy for me, baby.” he growls.

You grunt and grab your katana that’s attached to your back, swiping it through his chest. Your sword cut deep, causing him to curse and toss you to the side as he bent over. Your sword was also coated in a special silver so the cut was unlike anything else. It burnt through the hairy flesh all the way to his lungs and other organs.

He coughed up blood and held himself up off the ground with one claw.

You yell and run towards him while he’s down and swing your sword again, but miss. He disappeared before your eyes and ends up behind you. He claws at your back over and over with ridiculous speed while you cry out in pain.

You fall onto your back and cry out in pain. He moves to kneel over you, but your cries distract him for a second. His facial expression changes to worry when his human side sees that you are hurt badly.

You look into his eyes and plead. “Please Johnny, don’t do this. I love you.”

You’re not lying when you say this, a part of you still does love him, but you only say it out loud to make him weaker.

He leans forward and his red eyes dissipate for a moment. Right then, you grab your katana and aim it at his chest. You put pressure on it so that it starts to pierce his skin but he quickly shifts back into full werewolf mode and grabs it with both hands.

You fight hard against his grip and push it in further while he starts to cough up more blood.

Before it can go in all the way, he grips the sword tightly, ignoring the sounds of his burning flesh on the blade and forces it out of your hands before tossing it to the side.

He picks you up angrily and bites into your shoulder. You cry out a blood-hurdling scream as the feeling of his sharp teeth breaks your skin, tears through muscles and shatters your bones. You can hear the cracking and feel your nervous system become overwhelmed with antagonizing pain. He tosses you to the center of the conservatory, then walks over to you while shifting back into human form.

“I didn’t want this..I didn’t want to turn you..”

He says softly.

“But you left me no choice...”

Your back rests against the same bench that you slept on the first night you entered this place. You breathe heavily and wince in pain, grasping onto as a much air as possible as you feel yourself start to fade.

You shakily take your gun out of your harness and hold it behind you while Johnny is distracted.

He’s too caught up in his own emotions and thinking he’s finally become victorious to read your mind and realize that you have yet another weapon that you plan to wield against him.

He kneels down to you and wipes your tears from your cheeks with his thumb. You’ve got him right where you want him.

“I can’t live without you..” he looks into your eyes, his own brimming with water.

You chuckle and he watches as blood stains your beautiful lips.

“Then die.” you let out.

Johnny’s brows furrowed and looks at you in confusion. He reads your mind a moment too late. You’ve already drawn out your gun and shot two silver bullets into his heart.

Johnny falls to the floor on his knees and winces in pain. He’s still confused as he looks back up at you. His mouth opens once he stands up and backs away from you. He feels his body start to shut down. On impulse, he tries to heal himself, but it seems as though the bullets have pierced through both hearts.

He can’t seem to heal fast enough, his vision becoming blurry. He coughs up blood and can’t back away anymore, his ankles being met with with short wall of the waterfall in the center of his beloved conservatory.

He trips and falls into the pond filled with water lilies. His body becoming limp as he can no longer feel or control his arms or legs.

You struggle to stand up on your feet, but eventually, you slowly stumble over to the pond and see his eyes are closed and his chest is no longer moving.

It’s over, it’s really over. You start to cry when you realize that he’s gone, feeling a mixture of both relief, pain and sadness wash over you.

You sit on the edge of the pond beside his body and look up at the sky. You cry out loud and uncontrollably, you can feel your body start to change, a vibrating sensation runs through it at the sight of the bright moon. But you’ve lost so much blood, your vision becomes blurry and you pass out.

You don’t feel the gentle fingers that cover your own as your body slouches over. Johnny uses the last of his energy to heal you just enough so you survive. He holds your hand tightly, giving you all that he has left as he cries quietly, waiting for death to finally consume him.

—————

[6 Hours Later]

Someone picks you up and takes you out of the conservatory. You can hear the person’s heartbeat and breathing, it’s strange. Your senses are heightened and you can feel the presence of another person beside the one carrying you.

The person places you onto a soft bed.

Your heavy eyes struggle to open, but when they do, you’re shocked to see that it was Yuta carrying you.

“Y-Yuta?” You ask quietly. As the sensation of sleeping dissipates from your body, you start to feel all the pain and memories of what happened flood your mind.

Yuta looks at you and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

He gets up and leaves the room before you can ask why he’s apologizing.

Doyoung then enters and you’re frightened.

Doyoung has a scarf around his eyes, but walks straight towards you with a bowl of liquid.

“Doyoung..what..what happened?” You start to sit up straight and wince at the radiating pain in your shoulder.

“He can’t talk..” Yuta comes back in.

You look up at him then back to Doyoung.

“Johnny ripped out his tongue when he wouldn’t tell him where you are.”

Yuta sits beside you on the bed and take a cloth out of the bowl of liquid.

Johnny.

You hiss in pain as he tends to your wounds.

“He’s dead right? Please tell me he’s dead.”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, it seems as though you did what you set out to do, you got a clean shot. Or perhaps you just got lucky.” He gives you a small smile and a wink.

You swallow hard and look to the ceiling.

“Why did you come?”

“I felt bad. I figured you’d need my help..and..” Yuta stumbles over his words.

“I was a dick to you back there..”

You smiled, but it quickly faded as you remembered your reality. You knew that you were a werewolf now. Even if Yuta did like you, there was no way you could be together.

You held his hand and stopped his movement.

“You have to kill me, Yuta. I can’t live like this..I can’t become him or..” you stopped before you said her name, but he finished it.

“Hina...” Yuta looks into your eyes somberly.

You nod as you cry.

“I know, but you won’t..not with me around..I’ll take care of you.” Yuta continues to cleanse your wounds.

“Why? I’m not your responsibility, you’ve helped me get this far, you don’t have to-“ you plead. You’re worried that you will bring him pain like the others did, you can’t bare to see his heart break when you become the monster he hates.

“I know..” he says strongly and puts the cloth back in the bowl. “I know..y/n..” he brushes your hair back with your hand.

“But we’re in this together, you’ve made my life exciting and worth living again. I won’t run away like a coward this time, I’ll fight for you.”

Your heart is warm, you start to smile and finally feel at peace. You were scared to see what would become of you now that you were a werewolf, but you were glad to see that you didn’t have to endure the pain alone.

——————

[The Next Day]

Johnny’s omega, Donghyuk goes to the Johnny’s house to look for Johnny. He discovers that the place has been destroyed. Broken glass is everywhere.

When he calls on police to tell them that someone has broken into Johnny’s house and that he can’t make contact with him, so they arrive and check out the house.

They see that all of Johnny’s belongings are still in the house so it couldn’t have been a robbery. So they head over to the conservatory to see if there are any clues there.

When they enter it, they see that the pond in the center is full of blood. And upon closer examination, they see that despite it being filled with crimson liquid, there is no body.

Johnny is nowhere to be found.

--------

A/N: YOU GUYSSS THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!!! i hope you liked the ending...mayhaps there will be a book 2??????

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pianostarinwonderland · 4 years

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Piano-san (Not an OC question), I didn't know who else to ask because I see so many Octavinelle stans, but what goes on in an Azul simp's head? (i opened a can of eels, didn't i)

Anon............ you knew very well what you were getting into the moment you sent that ask.

So... you want to know what goes on inside the mind of an Azul simp? :)

WELL MY DEAR, TO BE HONEST, I DON’T KNOW :DDD

I mean, I can’t speak for every Azul stan. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I can say my own personal experience.

Every day, my head is basically

Creds to @spindlebeforesunset for the pic

......... NO I’M NOT FRYING TAKO I’M ALLERGIC

Or maybe this is a slightly better pic

Yessss that’s better

Every day, every fucking day, I question why. WHY the fuck am I in love with this capitalist who’d definitely scam my dumb of ass? WHY on earth do I stan an asshole when I could have stayed as a Riddle stan like how I was originally? Just....... WHY

But then, I’d be internally like “UWEHHHHH ATTRACTIVE AS FUCK OCTOBOI GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR” while running around the house with a stupid grin on my face because I am absolutely HIGH on that Azul simpery

I see art, I go UWEHEHEHEDHEHEHHFJE FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK

I think about all the possible events Twst could make and imagine Azul as an SSR in them and go FUKCIFKCUFKCHFKFNJFJJFJ

I think about Azul’s eyes and lose it

I think about Azul’s hair and lose it

I think about Azul’s smirk and lose it

I think about Azul’s shoulders and lose it

I think about Azul’s waist and lose it

I think about Azul’s hips and lose it

I think about Azul’s legs and lose it

I think about Azul’s overblot form and lose it

............ YOU GET THE PICTURE

I’M SO OOGA BOOGA ABOUT AZUL THAT IT’S ABSOLUTELY INSANE

Sometimes, I like to bulli him when I feel like an asshole, but most of the time, I feel protective over him fnnfnkdlfkfkkek like when friends joke about eating Azul, I’m like “nooooo don’t eat the tako :(“ or when I see Azul getting bullied in fics, I’m just like “nO ZUZU UWEHHHH”

Ok this one is really just me and maybe some others because I seek to learn a lot, but with Azul, I would analyze like one (1) seemingly unimportant line he says. Frankly, it’s a little harder to do that due to the language barrier but reading translations helps me get by and analyze even the most miniscule of details about him.

So yeah, that’s more or less what goes on in my head. :’D maybe some other Zuzu stans may relate? Idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but we all have our ways of simping. Mine just so happens to be loud as hell

#ask #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto

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asdfghjkl1x1 · 5 years

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King of the Monsters | Grace, Kozue, Régine, Lucas

"Hey, Tako" greeted Grace, making the young man groan.

"How are you holding up, Grace-san?"

"Probably better than the ones who tried to kill me, how did you guys get here?"

"Irina. The comms were suspiciously cut off so she made a few guesses and here we are"

Grace smiled to herself. Thank you, Ina.

"The Reds are also here, as matter of fact they're right now fighting the other men"

"Jacques set me free and I went after you" said Kozue before hugging Grace.

The Welsh turned towards the area she was earlier, and indeed, the sound of gunshots and shouts got to where they were.

"Take us there. We have to help them. My cousin... William, he has been captured, I need to go there."

Meanwhile, in land, Régine and Jacques would shoot the captors back to back. There were close to 40 men attacking them. "Mon chére, don't kill them, we need them alive, because I surely have a good amount of questions for them" said the Frenchwoman, changing swiftly of targets until her gun got out of her hands. "I'm going after him" she ran right after a chubby guy.

"Régine, wait!" Jacques called on her, before giving the signal to his subordinates to cover them and clear the area.

"Jacques!" the man stopped when listening to Grace's voice. "Where's Régine?"

"She just went after some guy."

The Welsh looked at the direction he was looking, and remembered that was the same where her cousin was taken. "Stay on guard here. I'll go after her" she ran towards the path were William was taken. Kozue ran behind her.

Grace stopped in her steps at what was in front of her, her eyes went wide. A lavender circle... and a cabin. Her lip shook as she felt about to cry with the memories alone.

She felt steps, but it was late, both her and Kozue were hit on their legs and dragged towards the cabin.

The Welsh could feel how they were surrounding them, but this time they seemed in no hurry to tie them. That's when she saw a familiar pair of boots, and heard the sound of heavy yet calm steps, before looking up.

There he was, with a smile and a shotgun.

"...William"

Grace couldn't believe it, she counted 5 men, and him "William, what are you doing?"

William took a deep breath "How's the lavender suiting you, dear cousin? You and your friend cannot call on your personal monsters to guard you now."

The Welsh was beyond even wanting to call on Marion, but she felt how she was away from her, each second out of her reach to call to defend them.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this moment"

Grace still refusing to believe her senses, asked "Where's Claudette, William?"

"Ah, I think by starting with my wife we could wrap up this better" he scratched his chin slowly and started "Since you write stories, let's make one for you. Once upon a time, there were three youngsters who were friends and supported each other high and low. Two lassies, one lad. Eventually as they grew up, they started to change, the ginger lass started to play Romeo for the blond one, by jumping to her balcony at nights to rescue her from her family. What she didn't know is that the lad had confessed days earlier to the blond girl, and had been courting her for some time without the ginger lass knowing.

Some time passed, and the act became reality, they had a secret relationship for a few days. As the lad wondered if this ginger heroine would ever come to his rescue, from the plans of his family of sending him away, from the constant family pressure of being better than others, waiting for this red heroine to say 'I'm also here for you'. While they made plans, he could foresee all their future falling because of the other girl, so he made a plan, he was going to unmask her, to show her true colours to the blonde and how her secret girlfriend wasn't a hero at all." William smirked and sighed "That's when I hired these guys."

Grace looked at them well, and yes, the mocking man who threw her off the cliff started to seem very familiar now, same for the others, they look like an older version of... She turned to William, with wide eyes, tearing up "No..."

"Yes" William took a breath "I hired these guys to hurt you and Claudette"

"William..." Grace's fists gripped the soil powerless.

"I didn't count that it would turned out the way it would turned out." William clapped "It turned out better than I expected. A werewolf. A beast. So, I insisted on my wife seeing you as a monster until she believed it, it was so easy to do after her shock of that night. And The Red Beast legend was born"

"You...?"

"Yes, I created that rumour of the Red Beast. And these guys returning to their senses after you put half of them into a coma, gave me the upper hand. I just had to be patient, and get to know everything you and Marion were, strengths, weaknesses. Then I showed myself as a good husband to my wife, and took care of everything as she went to med school, I encouraged her to keep going, that she could save you from that evil alter that wanted to damage your life. I offered myself to that time you went out of control, after all, who would suspect of Grace's favourite cousin?

Then that thing with Lucy happened, I got to know that you were doing your efforts for her, and that this lady didn't have the smallest clue about it, and I just laughed at how good my luck was, now you were going to be emotionally unable to react to whatever everyone threw at you and no one would be there to protect you, because you also saw Marion as a monster, because you couldn't keep my wife's reaction out of your mind. Yes, I used your love for her to my advantage and kept feeding my wife's hate towards Marion.

However, you can't lie to someone forever, Claudette started to realize something wrong was going on, and I played the good counsellor role, I made her believe her ideas were out of her constant obsession to heal you, and I had the teacher card under my sleeve, so she believed me, until she confessed me she was still in love with you, and that she never loved me pass a friend, she just learned to see me as an extension of you since your mother wouldn't allow both of you to marry. That was the night when... well, I took her to bed."

Grace saw him with horror, her voice cracked at her question. "Please... tell me you didn't do that..."

William sighed "I did... and while it was annoying to hear her calling your name, it was quite a pleasure to know that she was feeling the same thing I felt those years ago: abandoned." He giggled "So, she proceeded studying you, without saying a thing, after all, she didn't have the full picture and now she was tied to me because of the baby." Then groaned "Still, she tried to lose her baby a few times. So, I fed her with your same medicine: lavender. Then she had the baby, but I took care of the girl for her to not escape. I told Aunt Adelaide that Claudette wasn't feeling well, and that she had something similar to post-partum depression, so your mother wouldn't let her approach either."

"But she still escaped, right?"

"She did. I don't know how, and days later you showed up at my place. While I thought it was a good chance, I didn't count with the wolves, especially with them becoming your friends, so I gathered these guys and we decided to go with your plan, help you until you got rid of the animals. And here we are. Also, I wouldn't count with solving this by escaping and calling the cops, I have your very weakness on watch"

"I have her well protected, you won't get very far with it" Grace's breath went heavy with anger "You won't get to Lucille, you hear me!"

William blinked and tilted his head "Who said I was after her? No, dear cousin, your true weakness is someone small and red."

Grace stood up enraged and tried to charged after William in realization "You fucking bastard!" but got hit on the back with a bat. "She's just a child, dammit!"

"You won't have time to worry anyway, this will probably end soon. Which is bad, I was warming up to that boy" William said getting ready to shoot.

Régine, where are you? Grace and Kozue are in trouble.

“Relax, chérie, they have Marion and Sadako on their side.”

I'm not joking! Something is happening where they are!

“What do you know?”

It's... oh, god... It's her cousin. Her cousin is doing this

"Irina, relax."

How can I fucking relax?! If she does something, he'll kill the girl.

"What girl?" Régine could hear Irina's difficult breathing

It's Nancy! He has Nancy! I-I-I'm going to activate the emergency protocol.

"Wait, Irina, that hasn't been tested."

Claudette did it for an emergency.

"How do we know we can trust her?"

I can't sit here knowing I can do something!

"What if that formula kills them both?" Régine could listen how Irina started to type fast, and then heard the system warning, and the lady reciting the password.

Reveal your face to me, guide me though the Stygian fields. Enthral my soul to Sepedet's beams to serve Your will.

Ready to launch.

William then noticed something, Kozue wasn't anymore next to Grace, and his 5 men were on the floor, hurting. "How did you...?"

"I'm immune to lavender" Kozue said with pride, then got dizzy, her body went to the sides, but came up immediately to her senses.

Kozue?

Sadako?

William took the advantage of Kozue's confusion to shoot her first, but thee was one problem, he no longer had his weapon, and a hand was choking him, he turned to see his cousin holding him, his fear shoot when he saw her eyes going dark. "M-Mons...ter...."

"I'll be back" a low voice came out of Grace's lips, then took William to the very same cliff she was before, her smirk grew wider as they got closer to the edge.

Communication activated.

"Let me go, monster..." William said before Grace held him in the air, at the edge of the cliff.

"Do you repent?"

"Grace... don't kill me... I'm your cousin. Family comes first, remember?"

"We do" then she let him go, and watched as he fell.

One jerk in the oven.

What are you doing?

Locked up now. Over and out. Good job.

"Thanks, Gretchen"

I'm one of your knights, King.

"Long live the King" she heard Sadako's voice behind her.

Marion hugged her gently "Are you okay?"

Sadako nodded "I am, also your... Grace's other knights took care of the 5 guys"

"They're here?"

"One of them told me your mom had a bad feeling and sent them after you, then they communicated with Irina and Régine."

"Isn't she a great mom?" Marion smiled.

They went all back Grace's home. The Welsh's father was back as well and was the first to run to hug his daughter.

"Ugh, daddy, please, don't hug me that hard"

"I'm sorry, lassie" then he carried her inside the cabin.

Her mother was next who asked about Marion and her, then all her trip, so she told her everything. Both her parents were sad, they never expected William would do something like that. Then looked at the baby "What's going to happen to you?"

Florence spoke up "Ma'am, Claudette sent me an email yesterday, she will give up on the baby, so yes, I'm here to take her away to be adopted by a family, especially now that William will be taken to jail."

Adopted by another family? Grace got close to the baby and held her. What if...? Her hands started to shake and her mother held the baby for her before turning to her husband.

"Richard, let's keep the baby. Let's give her a good life, and let's have a second chance to do what with couldn't do with Grace, I think we deserve that." Grace teared up out of joy.

Richard approached and hugged his wife, before resting his big hand on his daughter's shoulder "How should we name her?"

Grace looked at the baby for a few seconds before smiling "Juniper. Juniper Margaret"

"Juniper Margaret Morgan, it is"

"I know what you're trying to do Grace, so I'm not going to admit that middle name. I'll make that the name of the woman who truly loved me: Rachel Morgan"

"What?" Grace's father was astonished.

"Oh, please, Richard. It was obvious. Why you think I grew fond of you so fast?"

"Because I'm good looking?" Richard joked.

Adelaide giggled "Because you reminded me of her. Grace, too. Especially that rebel phase she had when she was younger" she rolled her eyes.

Grace gasped "Mom, you rolled your eyes?"

"Dear, where are your manners?" Richard joked again and received a slap on his arm from his wife.

"Well, then is set" Florence said. "I'll be in touch with you for the paper work." Then left.

"Mom? Would you help me with this hair? I can't go back like this"

Adelaide looked for the scissors and cut the hair of her daughter real short. "You look good" then looked at Kozue "You need a haircut too?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you, I think I'm going to enjoy this hair for a while, after all, it's not as long as Grace's"

After they all ate, Gretchen came in with news. "William is in jail" but her worried face didn't say it was good. "He said he had an insider, and that part of the plan was still going on, despite her wife's efforts for hiding the child. He also said that something somewhere else was going to blow."

Jacques came inside the cabin "Régine, you got to see this"

On the tracker, two things were showing, a man going to what it seemed a house, with two people inside a house. And, another going at full speed with a package in another direction.

"That's..."

"Ira is the insider"

"He's going to your place. Luckily, you're not there"

Régine's worse fears came true "Eva is there! I need to go. Let's split up, Grace, Kozue, go with Tako to Wales and get the kid. I'll go with Jacques to my house. Wallace, take Lucas home. We'll rendezvous at Grace's place in Surrey."

#m:grace #m:kozue #m:luke #m:régine #self para #sp: king of the monsters #tw: abuse mention

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f2t4 · 2 years

Audio

MFM Mix 033: Jonny Rock by Music From Memory Long time dear friend Jonny Rock (@jonnyrock) from London up in the mix for the 33rd in our MFM Mix series. Interview (excerpt) down below. www.musicfrommemory.com MFM: Thanks for the mix and for taking time to answer these questions Jonny. Whatsup? JR: It is an absolute honor to do the mix and thanks for twisting my arm for the interview. Surfin’ the wild waves of the times at the moment… hanging tight on the board, but like water.. finding my way, with huge amounts of entertaining falls. MFM: I once read you saying wanting to go “...fucking off from London, moving to LA or somewhere else”. Why would you want to trade London for another place? JR: London is an addiction. been here since ’91 so hard to get it out of the system. working on a sunnier outlet to share the time which on its own puts a smile on my face but still enjoying London for its dirt and being versatile. LA is still and always in my heart for its sun and people. MFM: Looking at your discography your studio outcome is an almost equal balance of your own works and edits. Would you say other people's music is a major source of inspiration and motivation? Do you have a steady pace/rhythm of producing or...? JR: Other peeps music I listen to is of course a huge inspiration or motivation. Even with ‘original‘ works I always have a trigger point. An inspiration from a record.. a dusty loop from somewhere. I play guitar but I am not an analog machine man (burn him burn him). I love samples, loops, rolandcloud on the go… but no particular pace tbh. sometimes a random focused period comes out fruitful. Sometimes it just doesn’t work so I leave it. It’s a sign that I need to have a break in my head. Edits come up as I find songs so the balance must be coincidental. MFM: You're the first guest on the mix series who actually requested to keep the comments off. Does it have to do with the 'music like water' principle these days? JR: Well this idea also came out of the lost year. I was away from mixing for a while and podcast to-do pile had grown. And thought maybe one can try to rebalance listening to music and the way music is shared and searched. While the world is taken over by clicks and likes and online hangouts, thought maybe we push the talks and search back on real people interaction. From my side I asked kindly to the people I did the podcasts for, as an experiment…. let’s try it. Move away from ‘track id’s’ etc. MFM: You seem to be a romantic kinda guy with an old school approach when it comes to exploring and experiencing and valuing music. Does the '2021 way' offer only downsides from your point of view, or...? JR: I try to hang on to my own journey with belt and braces, so not to lose my values, and mind. A daily exercise sometimes to stop time and re-align to keep on staying true. Like all artforms there is controversy bubbling up in the speed of light everywhere with ‘kind’ help of the ‘social media’… MFM: Word on the street is that you've got a new thing coming up, a new label. Tell us all about it!!! JR: Yessss its true … ‘Jonny Rock Orijinal’. A label for me by me featuring me. ‘Not an edit’ will probably write at the back of a t-shirt at some point. I felt it was the right time to have an outlet for the various explosions of my mind. Hopefully out in the wild by January. Hamam series is also branching out to a ‘Hamam Originals’ imprint too. MFM: Thanks too for the mix! Any specific theme or records or vibe you had in mind before or while recording it? JR: Not really to be honest. Tako is a huge influence and a great bud so when he asked, woke up instantly from my cosmic hibernation and wanted to do a dj mix with some of the grooves I found lately. I don’t think I played any of those records out yet so was also an excitement of playing them for the first time. I hope to get a few 👌's 🤟's 🔥's 💥's. Ah wait …comments are off so probably not.

#IFTTT #SoundCloud

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magic5ball · 4 years

Text

Nature Trail to Hell Arc III: The Blood Curse of Tako Shak

Chapter 1: Roadside Hysteria

As the saying goes, I went into the Underworld a midget, came out a giant. At least, I think that’s a saying. I also came out covered in wood dust and all those other things you get from falling through a ceiling, but that’s not the point. Anyway, when F-Bomb and I got up, I realized I’d smashed a house under my foot. Now normally, in these types of situations, I’d have no idea where I was, but this place, tiny as it was, actually looked too familiar. Back when I was a nano-Watt, my parents would take me to this toy train museum out in the country. We did this so many times, I memorized the whole way there. So I can swear on my Mother’s grave I tell you the truth when I say this looked exactly like the Pennsylvanian countryside, complete with horse and buggies, anthracite mines, old timey towns, and in the distance, the perfect view of the Statue of Liberty.

“Oh. My. God!” I gasped. “F-Bomb, I think we went through puberty!”

To which my good friend slapped my face with his free hand (the other was cradling a much worse for wear Sailor Moon) “No, we didn’t get growth spurts, Turd. I mean really,” he cried, picking up a tree. “These stupid things don’t even go up to our ankles. Did you honestly think people grew like that?!”

I opened my mouth to speak.

“On second thought, I don’t need an answer. You’re Turd, of course you thought it was some kinda growth spurt.”

“Well, we were in the Underworld a pretty long time.” I said, tipping over the world’s most adorable little water tower “Maybe the world just shrunk while we were away.”

“Watt, Watt, Watt. That’s not how it works. Everyone knows time works different in the Underworld. What was weeks to us down there was probably only a few days up here. Besides”

He pointed to the horizon. “Last I heard, the Pennsylvania countryside wasn’t protected by childproof glass!”

“So… what are you saying?”

F-Bomb glared at me “Do I REALLY have ta spell it out for ya, Turd?! Look around. Since when did planes just fly around in circles?! Attached to wires?! Since when did this country have trains from five different decades riding around at the same time?!” He pointed to the miniature houses, filled with smiling, laughing couples with their kids. “Since when did this country have so many functional relationships?!”

Before F-Bomb could finish, the sky grew dark (well, except where we’d fallen through the roof) and a spotlight illuminated the giant Statue of Liberty. In the distance, the most angelic voice I ever heard belted out ‘God bless America’. It was so beautiful, a single tear crept down my face. But like all things beautiful and patriotic, it couldn’t last. A minute later, it was morning again.

“A-and THAT THING just happened! Don’t you get it, we’re in some kind of model train display!”

I wanted to protest, come up with some witty comeback line, but I had nothing. F-Bomb was right. As much as I wanted this to be real, there was no way the real America would ever be this patriotic.

Good thing an army of thimble sized people started marching out of their homes, gathering around us like ants at a picnic, or I mighta gotten depressed. F-Bomb looked down at the miniature horde gathered at our feet. Outwardly, he was his usual hard clawed, serious self, but inside I could tell he was thrilled to see someone even smaller than him for once.

“Who the fork are you weenies?” He exhaled from his nostrils was so strong it blew some of them into the next county, all of five feet away.

At the front of this group was a bearded guy wearing a straw hat, suspenders, and several other fashion choices that the 1800’s were inevitably gonna call and demand back. In fact, everyone was dressed in clothes my Grandma probably picked out of the Goodwill bin when she was little.

“Greetings, good neighbor! It is I, Abraham Fisher, good disciple of the Heavenly Father. And I thank you and the heavenly, the merciful, the almighty Lord for coming to our aid!”

The crowd erupted into cheering. In the back, several couples burst into tears and started hugging each other.

Confused yet? Because I sure was. In fact, I almost voiced my confusion, but before I could say ‘What the heck is going on here?’ F-Bomb had already connected the dots and shut me up good. Now, before we continue, just know that the Deinono are known for being the greatest grifters in the Underworld (at least, on their turf) because, man, did F-Bomb pull the grift of an (after) lifetime! I’ll try to word it best I can, but trust me, it was a lot more believable when he said it.

First, he took his hands and spread them out like he was peeling back an invisible curtain.

“Dang straight, worldly peons! It is I, Archangel Michael, sent by the Heavenly Father himself to smite the evil that besieges this unhallowed realm! And with me are Jesus Christ” he pointed to me and my dumbfounded face “and the Virgin Mary!”

“I knew it!” Cheered an amish kid, pointing at my underworld souvenir. “‘Tis the same shirt he wore during the resurrection!”

The crowd let out another hurrah! All except for some schmoe in the back with a raised hand. F-Bomb pointed to him. “O heavenly child, speak up!”

“N-not to be t-that guy, but why is the Virgin Mary dressed in such a small miniskirt? Surely such a revealing outfit is blasphemous in the eyes of the almighty Lord!”

But just as whispers started to bubble through the crowd, F-Bomb was already twenty steps ahead. I was just wondering how the fork the guy who used to drop twenty F-Bombs a sentence learned so many big boy words, and made a mental note to ask him for help on my next spelling test (if I ever went back to school, that is).

“Ah, but she is wearing a dress long enough to reach the floor, in fact. But such a dress can only be seen by those most pure of heart and free of heinous, lustful thoughts most foul!”

Though nobody said a word after that, many soft prayers could be heard in the back.

“So why is it, O devout children, that we have been called here?!”

The nerd who called himself Abraham bowed his head so low I’m surprised it didn’t go through his legs.

“Archangel Michael, what ails the good folk is a crisis most dire!” He gestured toward an enormous (at least, by their standards) mountain in the middle of the countryside. On second glance, I realized it was one of those slanted doors you see outside of cellars all the time, just covered in green fabric and fake trees. “A terrible giant arises from the depths of Hell and takes away our trains!”

“And what, exactly, does he do to these trains?”

“Oh, it’s terrible. They come back, but when they do, they’re all polished and shiny! Worse, they come back… WORKING AGAIN!”

The shock and horror displayed by the citizens at this was so ridiculous F-Bomb nearly broke character. “And this is bad because…?”

“Do you not see, O Archangel? We are the good folk! It is our duty to reject fancy things and embrace self-sufficiency, which this demon has taken from us! And, he comes from below. Therefore, how can he not be evil?!”

The crowd nodded in agreement.

“Very well, peons! The Lord looks kindly at you on this day! We shall smite the evil and drive it back to where it came from!”

No sooner had we said this then the steel doors of the mountain opened, revealing…

A repair guy.

For a moment he stared at us the way I’d stare at the chalkboard whenever the class started doing long division. Then he took a cellphone the size of a cinderblock out of his dirty overalls.

“Hello, security? There’s a kid in the middle of the layout with some kind of –Ooouuugggh!”

F-Bomb wasted no time delivering a claw to the guy’s face.

“O fouled hellspawn, God has sent you a message, and that message is DEATH!”

The cellphone skidded across the ground, not stopping until it ran through a town, probably causing half a million in property damage.

“You take care of the rest!” F-Bomb shrieked, heading for the phone.

I got real nervous from that one, let ,e tell you! I may be Christian, but I barely knew a thing about old Mr. Christ, other than that I got my middle name him, and if my Dad was so eager to name me after the guy, he must be important to some degree. Maybe he invented puppies? I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I couldn’t let the cheering thongs at my feet lose faith in their religion, so I did what most little kids would do in this situation: I realized I didn’t have to be Christ, I just had to deliver divine justice my own way.

And nothing said ‘justice delivered’ quite like pumping a janitor full of underworld lead, curtesy of my tommy gun..

The crowd cheered as blood flowed from the body, forming little, then very big lakes at the foot of tiny mountains. I opened the door in the mountains and put him under before the poor guy flooded the whole countryside.

Meanwhile, F-Bomb was busy on the phone, imitating the maintenance guy’s voice so well I almost thought the guy had come back from the dead.

“Yes, sir! Everything’s bo diddley! Oh, don’t mind me, that screaming earlier was just a… cramp? And no, that’s not a crowd cheering over a dead body in the background. Crazy what static will make you hear!” With that, F-Bomb hung up, triumphant.

Together, we looked at the lands we had arrived in, from the Statue of liberty to the little pueblo villages in the back. We had defeated a great evil, and saved it all. At our feet, the tiny citizens of this world bowed their heads.

“O, mighty emissaries of the Lord, O great vanquishers of evil, is there anything we can do to show our gratitude?”

F-Bomb put a claw to his chin as his face contorted into a hideous upward sickle that I think was supposed to be smiling. “Anything, you say? Well in that case, I and Mr. Heavenly Son over here could really use a foot massage…”

#My writing #Nature Trail To Hell #velociraptor #sailor moon #jesus #roadside america #model trains

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dvbermingham · 4 years

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Chapter 14: Tako

He shrieked when he saw me. I get it. I’ve been shrieked at before. A unexpected pulpy man lying on the couch, totally understandable. The shriek was loud and dramatic and he feigned like he was going to run, almost like he was acting, like he was on camera.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I guess Vicky didn’t call you.”

“No Vicky didn’t call me. Vicky never calls me.”

“I’m Lou.”

“Oh well Hi Lou. A friend of Vicky’s, I presume? Not just some derelict she found on the street? It wouldn’t be the first time, you know.”

“We just met, so I don’t know why. She said she liked how I danced.”

He scanned me up and down. “This happened to you dancing?”

“No, afterwards. Backroom scuffle. I’m a bodyguard. It’s not usually so hazardous. Mostly you just stand around looking big, bluffing. Sometimes people call that bluff.”

“You might want to go to the hospital.”

“That’s what I hear.”

Hadrian shrugged and went about his business, treating me like a piece of furniture or a sleeping dog, something that should be left alone unless it bothers you first. That was fine by me. My body ached, my mind ached, but the pain had worn off just enough from the pills that there was now room for that sweet, sweet shame. Sham for having lost my Matzu, shame for having failed, shame for losing the tuna and the limo, but mostly the tuna, the dread of having to call Stella and file a missing body report. Stella would have to reach out to Alfonso and maybe if I was lucky Matzu was alive and would take me back. Otherwise it was back to the temp agency, waiting for someone to ignore my references and just hire me out of desperation. I supposed there was a case to be made that we had been ambushed and overpowered by a gang so large that no bodyguard in the world could have prevailed. I mean, no one knew how many drinks I’d had, or the depths of the dance trance that consumed me just moments previous to being held up at gunpoint.

Then I got to reflecting. Always something I try to avoid in the moment. It’s what got me into so much trouble in my former careers. But lying out with nothing but a puke bucket by my side doesn’t leave a lot else to do. For me reflecting came in the form of wondering whether Takuto’s death and Matzu’s disappearance were connected. And whether there was a fight for New York sushi territory happening behind the scenes. Whether this was the beginning or the end or somewhere in the middle. And whether somebody caught in the middle could be held responsible, could be given another chance.

Maybe I could call it quits right then and there, I thought. No, I certainly couldn’t. Even though I had only known Matzu for one night, his disappearance would always be an unanswered question, a terrifying void in my life. I could never move on unless I figured out what had happened to him.

Hadrian popped his head in from the other room. “I’m ordering lunch, you want anything?”

“Just get me whatever you’re having.”

“You’re buying.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Cheaper than a hospital bed, pal.”

Twenty minutes later we were eating shawarma from the Lebanese place across the street. Fantastic stuff, greasy and spicy, just what my bludgeoned and hungover body needed. At my age, you don’t really think you’ll ever experience a new style of meat-sweats in your lifetime, so when they come, you savor them. Hadrian had an accent I couldn’t place but didn’t want to ask about. Possibly Rhode Island. He wore very tight clothes that looked coordinated, like he studied fashion magazines or had a thing for mannequin displays. He was a confessor, I could tell right away. Like he hadn’t talked to anyone in a few days and seeing as I was just laying on the couch I should do just fine as a fresh set of ears. Fine by me — it helped me feel useful. Useful, exactly! Hadrian said he knew exactly what I was talking about. Cleaning is the best way to feel useful. He said he always felt he had all this potential built up and if he didn’t use it somehow, even if it wasn’t ideal, you might never get around to using it and you’ll die wondering if you completely missed your calling. He didn’t want to clean houses and apartments for a living, he wanted to be a chef. Not a restaurant chef but a TV chef, like Emeril Lagasse, his hero. To him, Emeril was a hero, a legend. He found his calling, the most important thing in life, and on top of that, he found managed to figure out a way to broadcast it every day to the entire world. There was nothing better, he said, than showing the world over and over again how great your life is, how your biggest concern is maybe not adding enough garlic to your damn tomatoes. It’s almost a better feeling than your life actually being great.

Alas, he said, the television and culinary worlds required some schooling and he didn’t have the money to go back. He had a degree in media and broadcasting, but no clue about the kitchen world. Cleaning was the easiest job he could get that paid the best and still left him feeling energized at the end of the day. All in all, that wasn’t a bad setup. He’d leave apartments tidy and smelling fancy, go out for an early happy hour when the bars were almost empty and he’d sit at the bar and listen to the regulars and the bartender talk, and watch intently s the bartender pretend to have a task in front of her at any given time, sometimes real tasks and other times just moving things from one place to another and back again trying to appear busy but always engaged with the regulars who never had anything new to say because they spent all their free time in the bar seeking fresh ears and if none were available then old ears would do just fine. Hadrian liked to watch for the bartender’s micro-reactions, little smirks, eye-rolls, anything subconscious that showed her true feelings. Bartenders are dishonest people, he said. It’s a job and part of the job of bartender is to listen to what your customers have to say, make them feel welcome, cheer them up and keep their minds from wandering, or help their minds safely wander out of their daily rut, whatever they’re in the mood for, and always keeping a keen sense of balance and vibe, similar to the balance and vibe you create when cleaning apartments, a balance that makes people feel like someone is taking care of things around them so they won’t have to worry. But underneath the bartender’s facade are the tiny little minuscule reactions they can’t hide, or are too tired to hide, and that’s what Hadrian looks for, those bartenders who keep that balance in the bar but on the inside they’re wavering. I was done with my pita by that point, was mopping up my cracked, misshapen lips while Hadrian had barely taken a bite, was just holding his shawarma while he talked, the bread filling with sauce and grease from the lamb and starting to drip and crack apart, which is a pet-peeve of mine, two people not eating at the same pace.

He could tell I was losing interest and/or consciousness on account of his story or possibly the aforementioned meat-sweats and of course the swelling so he changed the subject and started talking about Vicky and watched me perk right up. Must have been obvious I guess. Like the television host he dreamed of becoming, he felt my energy and launched into some gossip. About Gwen the little genius who is most certainly destined to be a singer or voice actor. About her life as a model for sculptors in Gowanus. About how she lost her husband the year before, he thinks from a motorcycle related crash but wasn’t sure. They were about the same age, had been together since forever. “She didn’t tell me at first,” he said, “I thought they just got divorced. There were remnants of him all over the apartment that she didn’t take down. I started asking whether she wanted me to take down the pictures and whatnot but she said no, that she wanted to keep them up for Gwen. She seemed fine, keeping everything together. She kept bartending, kept going to school, kept herself and Gwen in a routine that would get them through the tough times. Creatures of habit, right? Why do people hate on routine so much, you know?”

Then he said, “So what do you do again? Wrestler?”

“Bodyguard.”

“Of course, right. Who do you guard?”

“I work for a chef. Maybe he can get you a TV show.”

“What’s his name?”

“Thing is…he might be dead. I’m not sure.”

“Well, where does he work? If there’s a vacancy maybe they need an apprentice.”

“It’s a sushi place on the east side. I’ll find the name for you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat sushi anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s poisonous I think. The fish have turned poisonous from over-fishing. Like, in rebellion, maybe? Does nature rebel like that? I think plagues are sort of like that. Or maybe it was that the fish was always poisonous and we didn’t realize it. We just thought it was too fancy not to eat it, and we all ignored that it was poisoning us all along. I think that was it. Or something like that. I heard it somewhere.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Oh, I think I remember. There was an article, I can’t remember where. It said rogue sushi chefs were poisoning their own fish to try to make it less popular. As like a backlash against popularizing sushi. A cultural thing. Stopping foreigners from eating their sushi.”

“Foreigners? Like, Americans?”

“Yeah.”

“In New York?”

“Yeah.”

I considered the number of times I felt sick after eating at FishySmell, and wondered if it had anything to do with the rumor. A wave of blood filled with nervous little blood cells rushed to my skull all screaming at once a word I couldn’t understand.

“How Brooklyn, right? Try to keep it out of the mainstream as long as possible. Ha, get it. Mainstream. Like, the opposite of underground. No wait…underwater! HA!”

Hadrian asked if I was okay, must have sensed something was wrong, but I couldn’t get the words out, my legs and hands were cramping, my meat-sweats were transitioning to anxiety sweats. The shawarma was turning on me. It felt like all my energy was being sucked out of my body.

“Maybe you should lie down.”

“I think I need to go actually.”

He laughed. “Go where? You can barely open your eyes.”

Tears filled my eyes. I felt my chin wiggle, trying to hold back the flood. “I lost him. Two in a week! I’m a bodyguard and I lost my body, twice. Do you have any idea what that means for a guy like me? For him? A young guy, an up-and-coming chef, probably dead. And on top of it I lost a very expensive tuna loin which was meant to be distributed to the chefs of New York. Now there’s going to be a tuna shortage and its all my fault!”

“Tuna loin, eh?”

I tried to talk through my sniffles. “It was entrusted to us by the head of nationwide sushi-syndicate who might also be criminals, I don’t know. It was worth a lot of money.”

“High quality tuna loin? Like, as in, something a chef would be very happy to receive?”

“Yea, sitting in a hot car all night.”

“Was it wrapped up?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Come on, let’s go get it.”

“Really?”

"I don’t have anything going on.”

“I don’t think you don’t want to get involved. This is a dangerous situation. Look what they did to my face!”

“How do I know you didn’t look a lot like that before you got beat up?”

I cried some more.

“Well regardless of how ugly you were, you can’t go outside with a face looking like a crushed up turtle. All lumpy and gooey and stuff.”

“Don’t say turtle, please.”

“Listen, I’m going to be honest with you because I don’t have a lot of patience and I just like to say things I believe are true even if they’re not: If your friend is dead, he’s dead, and there’s nothing you can do. So what’s the rush? I’d be more concerned about that rotting tuna in the back seat of your car. If we can get that to some chefs, maybe get on their good side, a little introduction, we could get your job back. And an apprenticeship for me…”

“You think he’s dead?” I asked.

The phone rang. It was Vicky. She said she was running late and had to go straight to work instead of stopping home first. “She says she’s sorry. But to just hang tight, she’ll be home before we know it.”

We decided we would go see if the tuna was still there, if the car was still there, swing by my apartment to get a few things, and come straight back. He made us coffee and we waited until Gwen came home. He helped her get her homework started and then told her to be a good girl while the two adults went for a little ride.

Before we stepped out the door, I stopped and said, “We can’t leave her alone. Her mom won’t be back for hours.”

“It’s fine, she knows the neighbors.”

“Are you sure?”

“I do it all the time.”

“I’d really feel more comfortable if she came with us. I mean, what if something happens to her.”

“She’s in a kid proof apartment, in a building filled with adults. It’s more dangerous bringing her with us. I mean, need I remind you of the hideousness of your face and how that all happened?” “Listen, I’m not going to be fighting anyone or saving anyone or sticking up to anyone in the next few hours. I just need some first-aid, a fresh change of clothes, and some bearings. If anyone comes for me, I’ll surrender. They won’t hurt a hipster and a little girl sitting in whatever car you own. Can’t be anything special. They’re sushi people. They’re classier than that. We take a little drive into the city, check out some tuna, head to my apartment, pack a bag, and come right back here. Sound good?”

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waddlesdpig · 6 years

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The Lego Movie Franchise Retrospective ( Or how to build Masterpieces)

The following is a opinionated review on the “ Lego Movie” franchise as a whole, spoilers and bad jokes ahead.

Its kinda crazy if we’re being honest here, in the five years since it’s creation the “ Lego Movie “ franchise has made close to a billion dollars domestically and probably more than that total internationally. All for what is essentially a series of really long commercials, albeit very entertaining and ( mostly) heartfelt commercials. No matter how you look at it however, these films on a whole have been a grand success worthy of artistic recognition ( WB has left chat).

This trend of profitably praised pictures seems sure to continue, with the soon to be released fourth installment in the “ Lego Movie” franchise “ The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part.”

( A sentence as redundant as me writing reviews on Tumblr.)

As a lover of the original “ Lego Movie” this sequel comes like the missing brick in my Lego heart set that i didn’t know existed. In that same breath however, i can’t help but feel anxious over how the movie will turn out. Early reviews have skewed favorably for the film and yet there is a disturbing trend in the Lego franchise that one cannot ignore. Each Lego Movie has had diminishing returns in terms of quality ever since the first.

Don’t get me wrong, the animation, production, and voice work for has been ( mostly) top notch for every installment. No when i mean quality, i’m talking about the strength of each films script and the way they are constructed. This problem is far more reaching than the common “ It wasn’t as funny as the first” comment one might make concerning the latter two Lego movies. Although i would be remiss to suggest that the humor isn’t itself a issue.

“ The Lego Movie” is filled to the brim with weird wacky comedy that still holds up five years later, but is coupled with satisfying storytelling that complements the silliness. Out of everything that could have been taken away from that original film the sequential Lego flicks focus is firmly placed on the hijinks and shenanigans. Much like a child who stacks his Legos as high as he can without any regard to building a solid foundation, Lego Batman ( to a lesser extent) and Ninjago lives or dies on the strength of it’s humor, often times tumbling because of that fact. So to help illustrate my point i would like to go back to the beginning and exam why each film worked or failed.

THE LEGO MOVIE

Out of all the things this film is praised for, the animation, the comedy, the amazing cast, i hardly ever hear anyone talking the story structure. While nothing shakespearean, Phil Lord and Christopher Miller masterfully employ the monomyth ( or hero’s journey) to lay the emotional foundation for the film, using it quite literally to a T’.

After setting the movies conflict into motion with the “ Piece of Resistance” and the “Krangle” we flash forward 8 1/2, enter Emmet Brickowski, your average abnormally normal citizen of Lego City Bricksburg where everything is honky dory. Following him throughout his day we come to find that Emmet is so average that he has fallen into the background of the collective consciousness of those around him. Only by chance does he comes across the Piece of Resistance literally calling him to adventure.

Now melded with the piece of legend, Emmet now bears the name “ The Special” which he is hesitant to hear at first, as he faces persecution from Lord Business forces, who is H’ E’ double hockey sticks’ bent on gluing the entire universe into place.

Through shenanigans he teams up with local DJ Wyldstyle, warms up to the idea of being, and i quote “ the most important, most talented, most interesting, most extraordinary, mostest most person in the universe.” The two escape from his capturers and crosses the threshold, by also literally crossing into another realm.

Duding it up in the Old West, Emmet’s lie is exposed like me on Omegle, earning him the disdain of his would be love interest. Trying to decipher next with the piece, the duo finds the wizard Virtuvius ( MVP of the film) who after finding out Emmet’s quandary determines to mentor him to be a Masterbuilder.

More shenanigans, Batman shows up, Emmet experiences cuckolding with Bat’s and Sty’s blockholding, ( seriously this is supposed to be a family film for krangle’s sake!) they all take a road trip to cloud coo coo land, group meets “ OC do not steal” and the other Masterbuilders to come up with a plan to take down Lord Business and stop his TAKOS! Surprise surprise Bad Cop rolls up to the club and the Masterbuilders aren’t ready to jam so they get sent to the slam. Emmet and crew manage to escape only by hiding in this absolute masterpiece.

Now beaten and bruised Emmet rallies the troops, and together as a team they set to enter the dragon’s lair that is Lord Business office building. ( Nightmare of college dropouts and unpaid interns everywhere) The story comes to a head as Virtuvius loses his, the piece of resistance is thrown into the abyss that is my grandma’s purse, all the masterbuilders are captured and Lord Business has set up an overly elaborate death trap to get these dang kids off his lawn. In this moment of despair the ghost of Virtuvius appears before Emmet assuring him that cat posters hold the secrets of the universe. Motivated Emmet bids a tearful farewell as he sacrifices himself to save the other Masterbuilders.

On the other side of the abyss, Emmet haves an out of body experience and has a face to face with the pink sausaged-eagle-squid creatures that serve as the lands God’s. It is here that he finally becomes equipped with the Ultimate Treasure: believing in yourself! Now ready to face the odds Emmet is sent Homeward Bound back to the Lego world.

He returns, Reborn as a Masterbuilder. Emmet confronts Lord Business and stops him by extending him his hand ( claw-grip thing?) in friendship, helping Lordy realize that he doesn’t have to be bad and that in reality we are all the Special. The two reconcile and the story wraps up with the world at peace until the immediate sequel bait.

There’s a reason many a tale uses this storytelling device, when done properly it works to enact growth and change in the protagonist, resulting in a compelling and satisfying character arc. The Lego Movie not content to rely on this alone also explores “ The Chosen One” trope, as well as themes about creativity vs conformity. There is quite a surprising amount of depth once you start deconstructing this film brick by brick, something that would be sorely missed in it’s spiritual sequels.

THE LEGO BATMAN MOVIE

Without a doubt there is a lot to like about “ The Lego Batman Movie,” they managed to kick the already amazing animation up to 11, on a whole it is a very funny movie ( giving birth to probably one of my favorite scenes ever. Kazow!), and it joyfully revels in the Batman mythos and world. In addition to that, it’s story tackles a very interesting premise not often explored with the Caped Crusader. Yet in my mind, there is a distinct issue which holds the film back from being as solid as Batman’s ninepack, this being pacing in the third act.

Batman is one of the rare characters in pop culture that require almost no real introduction, as it can be assumed that most will in one way or another have some basic idea of his mythos. Using this to their advantage, the people filming choose to focus on a intrinsic part of the Dark Knight, that of lose and fear of losing. Building on “ The Lego Movie” interpretation of the character, we have here a extremely egotistical, selfish Batman who exhibits these qualities in order to close himself from anymore emotional pain.

This is plainly stated in the first act by Alfred, “ Master Bruce, you live on an island figuratively, and literally.” It’s the same reason why he can’t admit to Joker being his greatest enemy, because even if the relationship is hateful in nature, it is still a connection to another person. So Batman’s gotta learn to open himself to others, great! A good premise and character arc that the film executes fairly well, up until the beginning of the third act.

See throughout the story we see Batman nudged and guided into becoming a better person by those around him, particularly Alfred and Barbara in the first act. Come the second act, Batman has stubbornly enacted his own plan to stop the seemingly harmless Joker, after succeeding he is berated by Barbara “ You can't be a hero if you only care about yourself.” Batman’s plan backfires giving Joker the means to unleash every villain from your local bar’s trivia night. As such Fatman rectify his mistakes by teaming up with his loves ones to make wrongs right.

Though hesitant to the idea at first, Bats warms up to his new superhero buddies only for him to push them away as soon as he realizes their importance to him. This is where the problem of pacing really begins to show itself. After sending away the Bat-lites, Batman immediately confronts Joker, only for the Joker to recapitulate something that was just clearly shown to the audience “ I'm not your greatest enemy. Your greatest enemy is you.”

Joker then banishes Batman to the doom dimension where he is greeted by a literal judge of right and wrong, who then plays a highlight reel showing just how big a betty batty’s been. The thing to note is this all occurs within a span of five minutes, stopping the story completely just to point at something that’s already solidly established in the story.

The real shame is that all this guilt dog-piling undercuts a great moment. In the doom dimension Bat’s gets a peek of the situation to find his friends returning to help him, there he sees Robin emulating Batman’s reckless attitude, and it is there where he is finally able to recognize the harm he’s bringing to others with his selfish actions. A moment i feel could’ve been the emotional pillar of the movie if it had been better builded towards and executed.

To be fair the movie from then on picks back up rather quickly, Batman learns his lesson, forms the “ savi-cide squad,” and in the end is able to save Lego Gotham by literally making connections with others and bringing everyone closer to each other. Capping what is undeniably, despite it’s flaws, a very fun movie. If only i could say the same about the last film here…

THE LEGO NINJAGO

The Lego Ninjago movie was always going to be in a peculiar situation, it’s branding and world aren’t well enough established in the minds of the average movie goer to solely create a story based on in-world lore. Nor is it enough of a clean slate that one could be free to do whatever it wanted if the story ala “ The Lego Movie.” And as such it creates this disjointed hodgepodge of elements borrowed from the two previous entries. This particularly can be seen through the journey of the protagonist Lloyd.

By the time the movie chooses to introduced Lloyd we are already informed that he as the Green Ninja along with the others have already time and again defeated and repelled the big bad Garmadon. In a way Lloyd as already undergone his own hero’s journey, meaning they’ve already skipped any satisfaction that could be gained from seeing a powerless boy becoming a hero and vanquishing that which threatens his home.

Bah whatever, origin stories are overdone and boring. Who’s with me?! Let’s get right into the good stuff. And to the films credit it does just that, right off the bat we are introduced to what will be the main conflict of the story, Lloyd and his relationship with his father. However here too “ The Lego Ninjago” movie stumbles. Lloyd as a character is defined solely by this conflict. During nearly the entire first act you will rarely find a scene, or piece of dialogue featuring Lloyd that will not involve Garmadon or the fact that he is Lloyd’s father in one way or another.

But hey he’s also the leader of the Ninjas and does a great job of, uh, telling people what to do? Now let’s quickly compare how the “ Lego Batman Movie” handle this. In the opening moments of that film we spend time with Batman before the grand conflict is set into motion, we see he’s egotistical, a showboat, selfish and willfully ignorant to any flaws he might have. Having established his personality, ( what a notion) the story is able to show how that feeds into his fear letting people back in and colors his character arc for the film.

With the “ Lego Ninjago” movie failing to this, it leaves Lloyd as just sort of a blank slate with daddy issues. It’s probably why they have him from the start with a fully assembled team of fun personalities to bounce off of and carry the load of protaganizing, oh wait. Oh boy, we got Flame Fella the spiky hair one, Dirt Dude who is essentially Flame Fella, Wa Wa Womah ( she’s the water element cause she’s so good at retaining water), and the only two with any semblance of personality Jay and Zane.

Without trying to disrespect fans of the original series, you know where they actually mattered, the other Ninjas here are little more than filler. Functionally they have no real role in the story except to bolster Lloyd’s in-world importance by making him leader, as well as holding him responsible after he unwittingly unleashes destruction upon Ninjago. Towards the start of the third act, our blockhead Ninjas haphazardly realize that all they to do was believe and only now is there any hint of development for the group. Way too little, way too late to have any significant impact on the story.

Leaving us with the “ Father/Son” plot to essentially carry the whole film. To the movie’s credit it does a serviceable job in accomplishing this. While far from masterful, there is some satisfaction in two opposing fractions learn to work together and eventually reconcile. However even here the film fails to execute on this idea. After spending the entirety of the second act building up this relationship between the two, Garmadon literally asks Lloyd to join him and rule the galaxy together. Green bean rejects the offer because what else would you expect him to do, and Gar once again pushes his son away from him. Less than five minutes later, the climax of the movie ends with Lloyd talking to his dad through a cat and the two finally reconcile as family.

In this way “ The Lego Ninjago Movie” fizzles out, leaving a lackluster ending and Jackie Chan to close out an already underwhelming story.

Finally some more miscellaneous criticisms.

They reuse a lot of shots in the first act, Lloyd’s dragon cannon being of the more obvious examples.

There isn’t as much effort to establish “ Ninjago” as a Lego world, often times you see Lego structures mixed with what is supposed to be natural foliage. This is a huge issue in the second act as the majority of the scenery is composed of non-Lego elements. And the stuff that isn’t Lego’s don’t look to hot, the water effects being the biggest offender in this case.

Jackie Chan as Master Wu is probably the weakest performance in the movie, i don’t know if it’s because of the voice director or because Jackie just wasn’t feeling the powah.

The movie’s live action intro and outro is just bad.

But hey Garmadon has a “ Shark-Shooter” gun! 8/10 movie

CLOSING THOUGHTS

In conclusion, the thing that worries me most from the last two movies is the lack of thought and care into execution that the original “Lego Movie” had in spades. Pacing, strong character work for the whole cast, attention to story structure, all of these things have been mostly stepped on in favor of cramming as much hijinks as possible. And as a result leads to painful lackluster conclusions that try to be heartwarming but fail due to poor build up.

As much as i sound like a negative nancy right now, with “ The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part” being helmed by the dynamic duo which created the first, i am confidant that this will be a return to form for the Lego franchise.

Thanks for reading this monstrous mess.

#movies #the lego movie #lego ninjago #Lego my precious franchises

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poppun-chan · 8 years

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The Year of Keroro Challenge Update 6 (Yes Sir)

I’m finally back (^.^) And Sweet Goodness I’m far behind in terms of writing, though at least some of the episodes I have to catch up are already written about

So before we do anything, let’s cover the names of the partner Humans, we all know about the Hinata family’s season themed naming but there’s another neat pattern to find

Fuyuki Hinata: Fuyu=Winter Ki=Shrub (it can be a bush or small tree too), while Hinata means Sunny Place, so his full name in proper order is Sunny Place Winter Shrub

Natsumi Hinata: Natsu=Summer Mi=Beauty, so her full name is Sunny Place Summer Beauty. It’s also worth noting the “Mi” is read that way when paired with another kanji as part of a word, either way it’s a surprising names considering her birthday is in December

Momoka Nishizawa: Momo=Peach, Ka=Blossom, Nishi=West, Zawa=Swamp or Marshland. So her full name is Western Marsh Peach Blossom

Saburo/Mutsumi Houjou: Saburo means third son while for Mutsumi Mutsu=Harmonious Mi=Truth, but considering the meaning of the first kanji it could mean someone who is emotionally close to/on friendly terms with the truth Hou=North Jou=Castle, So his name is Northern Castle Third Son or Northern Castle Harmonious Truth. It’s also worth noting that he uses numbers to write regular name and radio persona name and each is the reverse of the other (Saburo=326, Mutsumi=623)

Koyuki Azumaya: Ko=Small/Little, Yuki=Snow, but together it can mean light snowfall, Azuma=East, Ya=Valley. So her full name is “Eastern Valley Little Snow”

As you can see, the other Humans have a compass direction theme set completed by Alisa Southerncross. During one of the next two sets I’m hoping to cover the Keronians’ forms of “I” and their sentence endings (I may have to split this one up, but the “I” needs to be done before I write about episode 65)

And The Plan Count:

Serious Plans: K66:18 D66:1 MMK:1 TMM:1

Funding Plans: K66:4

It’s a plan, I Swear!: K66:8 (Yes Powered Natsumi falls under this category, I’m fairly sure it was mostly to needle Natsumi & Giroro)

Oh look! Progress!: K66:3

Episode 36: Now I’m curious just how cold it actually gets in this part of Japan during the winter (I know from the Northernmost islands to the Southernmost there’s quite a difference, but most of it is around the temperate zone). I have to admit my reaction to people complaining about the cold on T.V. is more curiousity than anything else since I have a fairly good tolerance for the cold....Not quite because I’m Canadian, mind you, even other Canadians seem a bit surprised by my tolerance for the cold (though it bothers me more when it’s only slightly cold, so that raining cold from the fall actually bothers me much more than the cold in mid-winter when the snow is two feet deep).

Also why does Tamama care about how big his bonus is? He can basically buy whatever he wants regardless (Though given what we learn in episode 40, it does seem weird they get paid so little). And it’s a bit surprising that Dororo isn’t the one in the old fashioned straw snow suit.

Episode 37: I feel in a way the first half of this episode illustrates most cases where you go to teach something that people have a certain image of and they expect what they see in movies and T.V. shows instead of what the thing you’re teaching actually is or at best expect to be doing the advanced things right away. Part b was also a bit surprising in terms of the range of emotions it runs through since at first it doesn’t seem like it would go in that direction at all; it starts off with a sort of Jurassic Park premise but actually ends up surprisingly sweet at times.

Episode 38: So apparently the opening shot with Sumomo is quite famous as one of the strangest anime gifs ever, hmm. Alright I’m going to admit, I think I’ve only seen this one once before and I know Giroro & Natsumi is a really popular pairing for the series and it’s not that I dislike it but I don’t really have any strong feelings about it or a lot to say about this episode.

Except that I’m fairly sure that password was chosen specifically to embarrass Giroro, and that the bit about the apron might tie into how Geisha would leave a small portion of the back of their necks unpainted because it suggested the bare skin under their make-up (It’s been a while since I read the book it’s from).

Episode 39: I’m going to admit that I really like Japan’s “Always been fun” Christmas, in some ways more than what we have here; namely because here there are a lot of people who have trouble with Christmas because it went from having a lot of emotional meaning to being commercial and Japanese Christmas seems to be in a nice middle ground where it never had the meaning it used to for Westerners, but didn’t go the other way either. Or maybe it’s more commercial than I think, either way the episode is really sweet and charming.

As for part b. I know about the Japanese tradition of having a big clean up around the end of the year to have a fresh start in the new year, but I have to wonder if having Fuyuki throw out those books was really necessary. I know my books don’t really fill the entirety of their space on my bookselves and you can fit more books or even an entire second row behind them, and Japanese books are generally much smaller than Western ones (probably because it take fewer characters to say what you need to) plus there’s all that space in the secret base. Long story short, I sort of like to think that Keroro didn’t actually throw out Fuyuki’s books (or at the very least took them out of the trash) and sold them to Momoka to make up for getting such a small bonus

Episode 40: It’s the News Years episode! And goodness it’s different from it’s manga counterpart, really, really different. Now in a way I can understand why they changed it; even though children’s anime have no problem showing adult characters getting drunk (Ojamajo Doremi actually has a few episodes where the girls’ magic teacher/mascot is shown using alcohol as an emotional crutch when she loses ownership of her store), minors are a different matter entirely and in this case it’s a bit of a grey area since Mois’ Human form is based on a girl who is either in high school or late middle school and we don’t know what stage she’s in in terms of her own species, the latter sort of applies to Tamama as well. Actually, speaking of the manga, there’s a good bit that seems to either have been dropped from the earlier chapters or possibly was part of some trial and error process; I know the first few volumes included a chart that shows Giroro’s organs as including a reactor and they had an interview with Tamama which, along with a few other moments makes it almost seem as if he was originally planned to have some form of hypopituitarism, the one that keeps you from aging normally....

Moving right along, the kite bit is a pun on kite & octopus both being pronounced “tako” (this isn’t the first show to do this pun) and the “Tamaya!” is something that’s commonly done when fireworks are launched (Though some shout “Kagiya!”); it started as the result of a competition between two firework making rivals to make the most spectacular fireworks, each would call out his own surname every time one of his fireworks was launched.

Also sweet goodness this episode got a bit meta, possibly more than the one where they make anime.

Episode 41: I’m really curious about sugoroku, I’ve never actually seen a normal version of the game; not simply I’ve only seen it in T.V. shows where the game is enhanced by either magic or technology and has you do things that normally wouldn’t be possible or practical, even the versions I’ve seen that are regular board games are always themed.

Dororo’s story was quite nice, though it’s a bit funny that 556 misremembered his name as “Terere”, “Tereyasan” means “Shy Person” (”Tere” being what marks it as “shy”) it’s also really close to his name if you look at a syllable chart (both are one place off from where the right one is). Either way it was really nice seeing him get the spotlight and be noticed for once, even if it was short lived (though I wonder why when all of them lost their footing none of them tried to grab the cliff face again).

Episode 42 (I’m warning you now, this one is about to get weird):

♪Viva the beautiful game, it’s what saturdays are for. Ooh! Ah! The triumph and pain. Work to live, but live to score. We’re on our way now! To Wemberly~ Up for the cup it’s the classical game, the marvellous game. Thank Frog for football~♪

Actually my opinions on soccer aren’t especially strong either way, I just really love musicals (This one is called “The Boys in the Photograph” which is an updated version of “The Beautiful Game” but with a happier ending)

Now part 2 is adorable but rewatching it left me wondering, how exactly does the timing of this episode work? To clarify the opening scene shows this episode starts directly after part one with Keroro being punished for losing the game (how is the barbed wire actually working by the way? Keronian hands are small enough to fit between the barbed section) but then it seems an entire winter goes by over the course of this episode, one where he goes to the park every day in case the boy comes back; even if we go by the snow actually holding and not being the very first snowfall of the year and taking place after the Natsumi Birthday episode and ending before valentines day when there clearly was no snow on the ground, that still leaves a lot of episodes where Tamama would have gone to the park at some point that day and there are a few where I have to wonder when he had the time to do that.

Even if we say that the episode started in fall 2004 the opening of the first part mentions the approach of spring so that would mean feeling the approach of spring before winter even starts....Or was that snow just a random one from that weird point where it can snow and hold for a few weeks, but the bulk of snow from the winter melted earlier?

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yourholmeskillet · 5 years

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To say I haven’t traveled much internationally is an understatement. That’s part of the reason why this blog is focused more on food than it is travel. My international travel has only consisted of crossing the US borders to Canada and Mexico. I have a great appreciation for both of our neighbors north and south because each offer great experiences. On this trip I had the opportunity to stay with my girlfriend’s aunt and uncle in Puerto Vallarta. I am so grateful they were nice enough to open their doors to me since this was the first time, I would meet her aunt. And after a few margaritas, we hit it off. If you are ever nervous about meeting the family members of your significant other, Mexico is a great place to do it. All jokes aside they are some of the kindest people I’ve met and we had a lot of fun.

With the price of a plane ticket, we were off to Puerto Vallarta. This was my second time going there, the first time being a graduation present from my folks to go with some friends to celebrate finishing high school. My first trip was fun, we ran the town going crazy, partying as hard as you would expect most teenagers to do. Unfortunately for me, I ended that trip with one of the worst ear infections I’ve had in my life. I got the ear infection by swimming in the ocean one night, because that’s what drunk idiot teenagers do. So, it’s fair to say the trip this time around was a lot more enjoyable for me. Being older, more responsible and thoughtful of how you want to spend your time, was way better then wandering the street like a drunk jackass. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a blast to do when you’re young, but I enjoyed this trip more.

The aunt and uncle rented a condo from VRBO located in what is known as the romantic zone of Puerto Vallarta. The romantic zone has the highest concentration of restaurants and bars and is considered the old town. You will also notice a lot of guys walking small dogs around and the occasional drag queen or transgendered person because the gay community is big in this area. Coming from Seattle, it is not much different than walking around and the capitol hill neighborhood. It’s a great location to stay because you can walk just about everywhere to the river, down to the beach and there are plenty of taxi cabs and buses available to take you further. We did not get raped, kidnapped or murdered or ever have the feeling that that was a possibility. Contrary to what some US politicians would have you believe.

The airline had lost our luggage on our flight down, so we had to go to the nearest shopping mall to purchase clothes and swim wear. We went to the Liverpool department store which is basically like Macy’s. It is a convenient 10-minute drive from the airport. Pro-tip, if an airline loses your luggage make sure you ask the right questions like “if I buy clothes, up to how much money will I be reimbursed” because most likely there is a limit. Basically, just try to get as much information as possible, confirmation numbers, contact numbers and don’t go on a crazy shopping spree because they will only reimburse you so much in Mexico, the rest you have to figure out with the airline’s baggage service. The whole situation is a big headache, so use your best judgement. Also, make sure to ask where your luggage was last scanned so you have an idea if the airline knows where it’s located. After shopping for clothes, we spent the rest of the day at the pool. The next day was similar, we got massages and stayed near the condo waiting for our luggage to be delivered. We got a little cranky by the end of the second day after dealing with the airline, but we finally got our luggage that evening.

The next day we went on a snorkeling trip. I would highly recommend signing up for one of these trips if you haven’t before. In all honesty the snorkeling part isn’t great because you cannot see that many fish. They do allow kayaking and paddle boarding, and if I went again, I would choose to do that over snorkeling. The trip itself is the fun part though, they feed you breakfast, lunch and cocktails on the boat. We saw whales breaching the water and tons of dolphins surfing the boats wake on the way to one of the beaches. They even put on a show on the end of the trip so with that and several cocktails, you’re feeling pretty good as they drop you back off on the docks. The company we went with is called Vallarta Adventures which I believe is one of the largest excursion companies in Puerto Vallarta.

The next day we spent at Los Animas beach. To get there we took a bus which costs 20 pesos ($1.06 USD) that we picked up a block away from the condo. When you arrive at Boca de Tomatlan beach you need to walk down to the pier to catch a water taxi to Los Animas. I believe the cost of the water taxi was 90 pesos ($4.77 USD) and you really feel like you’re in for an adventure when you’re riding in on the way in to the secluded beach. The rest of the day we just spent swimming, ordered a couple buckets of cervezas, drinks, fish tacos and ceviche. We had a great time and amazing service.

That night we had what I would say was our favorite dinner of the trip, at Casa Tradicional Cocina Mexicana. We wanted some of that real authentic Mexican cooking and we got exactly what we wanted. We started with freshly made margaritas with about a half bottle of Don Julio poured into each glass. The server mixed the salsa table side with all fresh grilled ingredients in a mortar and pestle. The salsa was slightly warm from the grilled tomatillos that melted in your mouth every bite. Guacamole was also prepared table side and delicious as expected. For our entrées Sarah ordered grilled octopus and I ordered a molcajete. The octopus might have been the best I’ve ever had, cooked perfectly and my molcajete was amazing.

Casa Tradicional

The next day we just had a pool and shopping day. While walking around town we came across the Blue Shrimp restaurant for lunch. The service and food were great but it’s a little pricey as is most of the restaurants off the beach in town. We spent that evening dining on the roof deck pool at the condo because the resident’s put on a mariachi band pool party. It was kind of an “end-of-season” party for the snow birds who travel down to get away from the winter weather and stay in PV for months. Makes me jealous, but now I have goals to do that some day.

Blue Shrimp

The next day we went to Mismaloya beach. To get there you take the same bus as we did to get to Los Animas, on the but window it says “Boca, Mismaloya”. The stop to get there is just a few stops closer than Los Animas and you don’t need a water taxi to get there. From the bus stop just walk down the hill and you will reach the beach. I don’t know if it was the spot we chose, but the chairs were not as comfortable and the service was a little slower there, but what’s the hurry when you’re in Mexico? We did get to rent some boards to go paddle boarding. The water was perfect for it. We also made some friends with the local dogs who just wanted to chill under our seats in the shade and probably scavenge any dropped food. It was another great day, just relaxing at the beach.

The next night we talked the aunt and uncle into finally checking out Pancho’s Takos which is a very popular restaurant downtown that people line-up for. You can’t miss it with their large spit of Al Pastor blazing in the front of the restaurant. We got there at a good time and only waited maybe 20-30 minutes to get the 4 of us seated. The tacos were good, but nothing really mind blowing. We did have to sit right in front of the al pastor spit roasting away, which is really hot and kind of uncomfortable. It is.. what you would expect basically. It’s tacos and drinks. Don’t go out of your way to eat there, but I wouldn’t say you would be disappointed either. The cost of the tacos we ate and about 2 margaritas and 2-3 beers each was only 1,300 pesos. That’s about $69 USD for a 4-person dinner with drinks. I can’t complain much about a cheap and delicious dinner.

After that we spent another pool and chill day shopping. FYI, I’m not good at haggling because I begin to feel bad for the vendors desperate to make a sale. I got called out by Sarah and a passer bye thought it was funny as hell. He said “You must be Canadian?” I said “Close, PNW/Seattle”. We were both like “Yeah close enough”, and had a good laugh.

On Saturday there is a market with food, art and specialty products. It is definitely worth checking out, we shared a really good quesadilla, had some fresh coconut water and bought a couple souvenirs.

The last night on Sunday we went down to the beach to restaurant El Dorado. It had a beautiful view but was the most expensive meal we had on the trip. Partly because the drinks we ordered were $15 dollars each which we didn’t realize until later. The food was good, but the service was really slow. A dinner that should’ve taken about an hour, took about 2 and ½. After that meal we were just kind of ready to get back home since it seemed to take forever.

Well there it is, another great time in Mexico. I really can’t wait to go back. I plan to expand my travel to other regions of Mexico because they do offer different experiences just like traveling to different states in the US. They’re the same but different. Puerto Vallarta is special and I can’t wait to go back again.

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Puerto Vallarta To say I haven’t traveled much internationally is an understatement. That’s part of the reason why this blog is focused more on food than it is travel.

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armstrong72armstrong-blog · 6 years

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Netatmo To Discharge Well-balanced House Coach Smart Air Display

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tinymixtapes · 7 years

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Feature: 2017: Superficial Temporal

“I’m sorry” (the aluminum clicks of a walker’s kiss scuff up this linoleum universe, an acidly sterilized) “we don’t” (air bleaching breathing into stifled hacks from out of polite lungs. A sniff, a limp, a tightness around the temples: admissions of the unwinding ways down that) “have a patient” (strip wind out of our bodies and snuff galaxy from behind our eyes, sending stillness past selves and illnesses and incapacities) “by that name” (into urns and Earth. We, nothing, live. We, languished, die. Again and then: nothing) “here.” All this, I think, I feel because that old man slumps his two failing legs into the four metal infallible ones. Leaning on his walker, he is crossing the hospital lobby floor. He’s here to see someone, maybe, to visit his relative health and generous spirit on the falls of failed bodies. He didn’t mean to put dying on my mind. Hospitals don’t mean to put dying on our mind. Hospitals put a good show of pretending they function like any other worldly and boring institution. The glass clinks and steaming milk hollers of their lobby coffee cafes, the corner gift shops stocked with apparel memento (“I survived double bypass surgery and all I got was this t-shirt!”) and floral or helium-filled tribute; that distractive mallness almost sells a body on a hospital’s regularness. What’s mortality when there’s free Wi-Fi? But the telltales are there: that sterile smell of bleach and waxed floors, a cleanliness past humanity. People walk around and smile and wave and hold hands, but emotions run haywire; there are more flash tears and snaps in patience than in the rest of the world. Directory signs organize our inching mortalities, shuttering trauma into units (Short Stay, Behavioral Care, Observation) and banishing an Emergency into a single room. Brandished words — like radiology, neurology, oncology — that are half-familiar to us but stand for sciences untouched until we discovered the things inside our bodies that shouldn’t be there. We didn’t have hospitals until we weren’t well. Hospital from hospes, a guest or a stranger. We shouldn’t be in hospitals. Hospitals aren’t health. Hospitals are imperfect occasions for addressing a body’s crisis. I say my friend’s name again to the man sitting behind the Visitor Information desk. He says he’ll check again. “I don’t think she’s here,” he reminds me. --- We lose things all the time. Does losing have a sound? Is it neon like a wail, an enveloping thing to fill our new abscess? Does it bang and rattle without words, a techno throb that reaffirms populous in us, “unos pro omnibus, omnes pro uno?” Will we recognize it when we hear it? Would we even want to? “It’s not for singing about;” it’s always phrased like a question. A hospital visit is not resolution because inquiry (like healing/listening) exists separate of knowing. Absence (and art) reacts like a vaccine, a killed sample of the organism. In this shaky year of loss, our health eroded, under storm and assault. The reacted resounding sounds are those killed samples of the organisms (love, hate, memory, grief), manifesting a plot through plod as pop music then electronic analog, an ambient into something “barely music.” The deterioration from one to the next is how history works, a whittling language until it’s just feelings, “glimpses of hope in trying times.” Feeling like listening like visiting like missing becomes a sort of vaccination against the ills. An art of absence is. Is that enough? --- The man behind the counter clacks more keyboard keys. He’s not a man, really. He can’t be more than 14. Maybe he was dropped off at work today. Maybe he’s missing school today, here interning as work-study. Maybe he’s missing someone too, (maybe you’re gone already) maybe here despite it all. What would moving forward feel like? We didn’t have feelings until we injected our humanity into a world. Feelings aren’t health. Feelings are imperfect occasions for addressing a body’s loss, either of joy or of control. The clacks stop. It’s still now. He speaks efficiently for 14. “I found her. I made a mistake. I’m sorry, sir. She’s here. Fourth floor.” He hands me a sticker. I write my name on it. I walk off, a guest echo in an unfamiliar space, stutter-moving like that man and his walker. With a destination now, I’m a little lost. What does moving forward sound like? I place the sticker with my name on in the space over my heart. “Go back and tell it.” --- HEART FAILURE / MELODRAMA Richard Quain, The Anatomy of the Arteries of the Human Body, Plate 2 It’s Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, a weakening of the heart’s left ventricle, brought on by sudden emotional or physical stress. The left ventricle’s apex balloons abnormally while the base contracts normally; the heart, pushed and pulled, begins to resemble tako-tsubo, a fishing pot for catching octopuses. Symptoms of takosubo cardiomyopathy resemble those of a heart attack, but it’s a trap, almost. To differentiate, diagnosis requires attention to detail, especially to a slight but rapid rise in cardiac biomarkers, which get released into blood when the heart gets damaged. It’s a sensational response to bombast. It’s Melodrama, this broken-heart syndrome. Hearts are movable, depressive neon rowers running us from out of our chest. Too frequently, we wish for permanence in things: a job to maintain, a relationship for support, a health to lean on. Impermanence encroaches on flippancy, instability, combustibility. We veer and tip over, “Our rules, our dreams/ We’re blind.” “We’ll always have Paris” really means “we’ll never know what else we don’t have.” Lorde knows what she and we don’t. Melodrama tips off from tripping, the spectacular Technicolor zenith of “Green Light” and the pulse of hip’s arrhythmia in “Sober” pool in the chest of absence. Lorde loses, lacks, misses. “After your heart is broken, music enters you on a new level,” she said in a New York Times interview, insisting in the same piece that Melodrama wasn’t a breakup album. “It’s a record about being alone.” Melodrama is loveless spelled out letter by letter, the syllabic stretching out of wrecked and wrecking “hard/feelings.” These are what they call being alone, every promise of a pop dream (ful)filling the abscesses history lobs into us. The pop sounds mirror the feelings, imagined rectifications of real loss. On “Louvre,” absence means shouting, “broadcast the boom boom boom boom/ and make them all dance to it;” listening to loss means seeing where the boom comes from, that “megaphone to my chest.” The craft of Lorde, of writing pop songs, is a supercut, a montage and a dream, “this sadness about it, where you feel young listening to it, but you feel impermanence at the same time.” 2017’s radio pop vehicles were scant maybe, but the ones on the road hemi-screamed with this happy-sadness. Taylor’s “New Year’s Day” warned against unguarded mis-memory (“Hold onto the memories/ They will hold onto you”) and Charli’s “Emotional” worked to bridge-up tensions between history and memory, old and new: “We were close, but still so far away.” You will lose and miss, these voices remind us; the melodrama and the ache “let’s you feel something you didn’t know you needed to feel.” It’s superficial temporal, a moment of fluorescent dream resolving real-time loss, an artery to the head that pulses us to move forward. But being alone doesn’t mandate reconciliation, really. Hearts fail in so many ways. Like pop music, heart failure, that bracket term symbolizing the splits and splays of that most vital muscular organ, is symptomatically movable: can the heart not pump the blood, or does the heart not fill with blood? Is the heart broken, or could it not be moved in the first place? Hearts are movable things, good metaphors for this year’s shaking instability; hearts are vital organs and proof that all bodies need care. Given time, it’s tempting to think that ailments and failures fix themselves, that we subject us immune systems and self-reflection. But care isn’t universal. We connect feeling to organ, but while every body has a heart, not every heart gets the same love, gets the same kind of time, the right kind of healing. 90% of takotsubo cardiomyopathy patients are women ages 58-75; a lifetime in a toxic world has to break somewhere. 2017’s pop arteries began to flush some of the poison from out of the blood, but this is about detailing how far we’ve deteriorated, not celebrating catching the octopuses at work. Spaces and abscesses are not created equal. Without love is just that. We break in loss, we lose some sounds. What does the way forward sound like? Is it enough --- (in this elevator, I move up in the hospital that I haven’t been in since that first birth day. It and I were smaller then, infrastructures and biologies running alongside time. I’m worried about my friend, on the fourth floor. She didn’t say what was wrong with her. I can’t say what’s wrong with me, but I feel it, somewhere near the chest, somewhere near the cheeks. Something like language can’t help but slip away, aloning us. 2017’s track of absent sounds moves away from the hemorrhaging Louvre into the drum corridors and bass ruins of hurling upward into baseless space. My body reflected black in the ceiling’s mirror, my cords and tendons thrumming, motors and sockets snapping. Cell climbing no human voice. Booming insistence, without love, “LET US NOT BE SILENCED”) --- CELL DEATH / BLACK POPULOUS Richard Quain, The Anatomy of the Arteries of the Human Body, Plate 19 “I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA.” Cells die when they’re damaged. Cells die when they kill themselves. “I got hustle though, ambition flow inside my DNA.” Cell death is the result of disease and the reason bodies still walk around. Cell death occurs with damage, skin seared under whip or sun. Cell death occurs when the body’s done with these cells, when it needs to make new ones. Our bodies are imperfect occasions for mitigating living and dying; they em-body us, regulating and mistaking our time on the planet. Our capacity for good is matched by our capacity for evil, we the disease of these United States. Like a vaccine then cell death and birth, Black Populous is the bounce of absence, the abscess of presence. AceMo’s rolling roiled Black Populous unfolds without love from above, without words within. It’s the old “New Dialect,” whisked noise and acid hiss, cassette dreck bombed in the street-to-street straight-to-tape master take piece. It’s the bang of the future in the instruments of the past. It’s “The City’s Decay,” a unfurbished reverb-soaked reminder that infrastructures and biologies run alongside time alongside each other. Diaspora squeals, like toxic cells replenishing a virus, systems organized in killing healthy bodies. Balms, like cells dying to become the outer layer of skin. In the absence of life here, our skin asserts our existence. In his words, the few accompanying the wordless release, AceMo: “Black populous is whatever you, want it to be.” Maya: “It reminds us that we are not just flesh and blood, and that our hungers are not going to be set aside as just flesh and blood.” Our hungers, those hopes, embodiments of life in and after loss. Flesh, dying cells making skins, infrastructures of a living death. Blood, love to the heart and air to the brain, proof of life when it’s inside, evidence of trauma when it’s out. James Baldwin, from out of The Devil Finds Work: “This tension between the real and the imagined is the theater, and this is why the theater will always remain a necessity. One is not in the presence of shadows, but responding to one’s flesh and blood: in the theater, we are re-creating each other.” Black Populous by AceMo The theater of flesh and blood is the theater of the body. Our hearts break and our brains forget, but our flesh lets us walk, our blood proves us precious. The tension inscripted on our bodies leads us to hospitals and into each other’s arms. Black Populous, like DAMN, like Kaepernick and Mavis and CupcakKe and Toni, does not settle for shadows. By sending the sounds of the body into the city’s language of drum and bass, Black Populous is absence’s negative, taking it back, giving it away. It will not be silenced. AceMo, again: “For black is the color of endearment. Black is of pain, black is of freedom, black is cold, black is warm.” Maya, still: “…indeed, we have souls.” “I got dark, I got evil, that rot inside my DNA:” We are responsible for our bodies. “We are all each other’s flesh and blood.” This year, mediated and afflicted by loss, saw the same trends and disparities along body-lines. We locked us up. We found new depths to the same old hate. “We are all each other’s flesh and blood.” Not all bodies got the same time to heal. Take a knee. Shake analog. Hold history accountable to itself. Do not make it anything that it pretends it was when what it was was sick. Care isn’t universal, but hope, like cell death, is renewable. We plot a building in the losing, crumble like refracted fractures aching to be stacked again, a new city. An art of absence, a black populous has the bravery to dare hope for what can be, to shine light at shadows and celebrate sounding. Indeed, we have souls, like Langston: “O, let America be America again — The land that never has been yet —” --- (step out of elevator doors on the fourth floor and remember. Try. I texted hello, you texted you were in the hospital. This morning, my dad said to me, “one of my friends has Parkinson’s now.” I think we were drinking coffee. Then my dad said, “and he says to me, ‘I got all the information Joe, it’s there in my head. It just comes out slowly. Like leaks. It just takes so much to get it out.’” After this, my dad went to work. I texted you. Now the fourth floor. Orthopedics. Stroke. Hospes, guest or stranger, I wander forward in this hallway like a sheaf. I remember, I try: given time, it’s temping to think that ailments and failures fix themselves. But care isn’t universal. We’ve done this before, like a sheaf. And. The way ahead feels lonely) --- DEMENTIA / EVERYWHERE AT THE END OF TIME Richard Quain, The Anatomy of the Arteries of the Human Body, Plate 87 (We lose things all the time. Why test time? Is there a voice to fill that void? What is moving forward? Why won’t it stop?) “Please listen carefully. I am going to say three words that I want you to repeat back to me now and try to remember. The words are “remember,” “care,” and “beautiful.” (remember how easy it was then, to exalt, and sway? all that follows is true: before dwindling, before that fall down the stairs, we danced like sheafs. “sheaves,” you said. “sheafs,” I said. the beach. the shore. the place between knowledges, that lapse of water on sand and the furious motion of sediment with every crash. mostly not crashes though. mostly a familiar strain through rising fogs. somewhere back there is what I know.) “Please say them for me now.” (what does it matter how my heart breaks! what does it matter my city is ruins! we must erode as we go, holding tight the golds of days, the way a sky over water shines the world back. things have always been the best they can be. it’s us that changed. “now i can’t stand to be alone/ let’s go to perfect places!” “I want you to draw a clock for me. Put in all of the numbers where they go. And set the hands to 10 past 11.” (why test time? memory works, an imperfect knowing occasion to see history remembering drifting time misplaced) “I want you to draw a clock for me.” (with a destination now i’m a little lost) “Put in all of the numbers where they go.” (i don’t think she’s here) And set the hands to 10 past 11. (i’m sorry) And a nurse helps him bend his arm at the elbow. He shakes, (“thank you.”) Memories Overlooked: A Tribute To The Caretaker by Various Artists All sounds won’t end in oblivion. Help helps. The Caretaker’s relentless and ugly project traces an arc of plaque, but it does so to extend empathies and imagine new ways of treating bereft consciousnesses. Memories Overlooked means unseating reality revision, nostalgia-sale, and selective national memory loss as king, means treating dementia not as inevitable, but as a thing to be addressed and understood and, ultimately, cured. “100% of the digital proceeds of [Memories Overlooked] will be donated to the Alzheimer’s Association.” We break and lose. Bodies get better. When they don’t, we help them. Memory isn’t health. Memory is that imperfect categorizing of history into moments. Remember: History always favours the winners. Remembering favours a humanity. We must confront what can’t bear to lose, those fourth floors of our selves and our loves. Caring for the caregiver takes a lot. Care isn’t universal. Health isn’t forever. Deterioration isn’t beautiful. Deterioration isn’t reversible. Between those sentiments, in the cracks of a tape pop and a brain’s hiss, Everywhere at the end of time weeps a unknowing grace for what it loses, for what it gains in losing. Take care and give it. The way ahead, worth it. --- DEATH / A CROW LOOKED AT ME Richard Quain, The Anatomy of the Arteries of the Human Body, Plate 43 You didn’t die in that hospital room. That has to be said now. Attaching “death” to your pronoun is like imagining a dog’s permanent flight, winter temperature forever, silence. Death isn’t for compelling narratives, a detail to be withheld to heighten tension. Death is real. You could try to put it in an essay, but there’s no words for death that a body doesn’t already know as soon as it’s awake. When I walked into the hospital room, the fourth floor, the sun wooing window heat onto curtains separating the room in two, onto the robot bed that wouldn’t stop beeping, your mom walked out. Legs want motion. Hospital rooms want stillness. We don’t belong in hospital rooms. You said that to me. We were trying to be brave. You joked about the miniature can of Generic Luxury Brand Ginger Ale. I mentioned I was driving to Matawan New Jersey that night. We laughed. No body belongs in Matawan New Jersey. You mention how much that old woman coughed and complained. She slept here for a night, now she’s gone. We say we hope she’s okay. “October wind blows.” They have nice blinds in hospital rooms, horizontal and clean, but welcoming of light. They have nice blinds in hospital rooms, I say to you. You look out the window. It’s too gold in here, I think. You say how weird it is to be in a hospital, the age you are, the age I am, the way we’re in this hospital room now. I nod. All poetry is lost. We ache in loss, but we are not lost. Death is real. Life is real. Geneviève Castrée drew comics, made sounds, died. Phil Elverum, her husband, lost her and can’t forget. These words are not meant to be pat or diminishing of two humans’ story. The songs on A Crow Looked At Me aren’t simplistic or reductive of the monumental collapse loss has inflicted on a human being. “Please don’t come,” Phil urged; “this new album is barely music.” Real death is supposed to be the end, at the very least the last words on the subject. A Crow Looked At Me breaks and re-breaks, because it’s a life’s words trying to make sense of irreparable loss, over and over. “I’ll speak to your absence and carry our stories around my whole life” is sibling sentiment to “I’ll speak to your presence and carry our stories around my whole life. A Crow Looked At Me is non-song and barely music. But by its existence, it reaffirms the negatives its existence stands for. Bodies get better and better. We all end up together. Life is real. Babies get born. Hospitals save lives that humans make. In the release of such hopeless losses (love, body, self, life), we re-member the sounds of 2017 as vaccinating reminders of what those losses feel like and how we can reconfigure them into stepping forward. Moving through this cycle of crumbling sounds reminds us that memory is a deconstructive process striving to reconstruct, that there is healing in a losing sound: Lorde’s neon-alone radio-glow gives way to the dusty unshackled analog techno of AceMo, gives way to the constantly untying and affirming sounds of The Caretaker that follow time’s arc. It all ends with something like Mount Eerie’s non-music that can’t help but reconnect us back to the love that Lorde eulogizes and memorializes, that Phil misses and holds closest to his heart, that drives AceMo to herald his body’s voice, that reminds The Caretaker it’s okay to cry. History and memory, loss and memorial, are circles to circulate our years, reminders that humans are (and always will be) at the center of our body’s traumas and joys. Will we survive us? An art of absence, a re-membering of loss says yes. Is is enough; the way forward is precious. We listen, wrecked and healing, swept and stepping, before and after and always past now. (They have nice blinds in hospitals. We laugh.) http://j.mp/2BYcXm8

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