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dingdongitsbees · 3 years

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Hi, i was thinking of Attack on castes and i really like the idea of janitor levi, wannabe Hitch and so, would you write a one history teacher Erwin x lawyer reader, where she is friend to Frieda who is a teacher in the school asked her to pick Historia up for her and that's when Erwin sees her for the first time and immediately fell for her.... Hope you can accept it

offer up your heart

↪ WC: 3.3k ↪ Ao3 Link ↪ Genre: fluff, light-hearted, soft

Attack on Castes for those who haven’t read it! (it’s the reason some characters may seem oc)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

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You were already late and by god did you not want to be there. You were glad to leave high school behind you when you graduated, promising yourself to never set foot in one ever again. Gossip, bullies, shitty teachers, stupid drama and a mind crushing amount of work. Sure, good things too, but nothing that couldn’t be found in the adult world.

In the adult world you got adventures. You got to fight to bring people the justice they deserved, their livelihood in your hands. They offered up their hearts begging you to save them. It gave you purpose. Whether or not they shed tears of grief or joy would be for you to decide. Nothing quite came close.

Or that’s how you would have felt if your current client wasn’t being such an annoying little shit. He had lied to your face with three wildly conflicting stories about what happened, and then when he got cross-examined by the prosecutor, he decided to go completely off script and implicate himself even further for something he didn’t even do.

The evidence against him were fables and rumours at best but he had begun to make it look plausible through his shifty character. You would get the “not guilty” verdict at the end of the trial, but you were going to have ripped out most of your hair by then.

When you were busy screaming in your hands during the intermission, your friend Frieda rang you and asked you to pick up her younger sister from school because their bastard of a father surely wasn’t going to. You nearly yelled at her then.

Frieda had done favour after favour for you in the past years with your insanely busy and gruelling schedule, so refusing the one time she asked for something in return would put you up with the likes of your client. You agreed, for some reason not asking what time, and then promptly forgot about it.

So there you were, heels clicking rapidly against the school’s hallway, the oranges hues of the sunset streaming through windows and the entrance. You really should have asked for Historia’s number, though you weren’t sure if the girl would bother to reply.

Historia was the epitome of “I think I will cause problems on purpose” simply because she’s bored. To be fair, you couldn’t really blame her, you had no such positive attitude towards school either, but with her being at the top of the pecking order she had the ability to make those problems quite substantial. Freida’s hair was probably going to go grey soon.

You thanked any god that would listen that she had cheerleading practice or you might have genuinely cried. The amount of stress that blonde girl was putting you through simply because she refused to take the bus home was nearly unparalleled.

You looked around the school, each corridor breaking off into another. The same basic lockers and same ceiling lights, same everything. You were fucking lost.

You jogged down some corridors hoping to find someone, turning your head frantically, letting you slam full force into something hard, tall and…blond?

Erwin may love being a teacher but my lord did it get tedious sometimes. He loved the younger ones, brimming with hopes, dreams and potential. Though nearly all of them seemed to be misusing it, putting it on the backburner or simply didn’t care. Kids were good but they certainly could be better. Of course, there’d be the standout kids like Armin and Marco who took their schooling seriously and asked questions that allowed him to gush about things that weren’t just on the set curriculum. But what he would give so all of them were that engaged…

He just wanted them to offer their hearts to him, to trust him and put faith in the information he was giving forward. History is something, that he believed at least, was unparalleled in its importance. You learn from the mistakes done by the generations before you, using the knowledge to guide the current decisions needed to be made. On top of that it just let you understand the world around you; how it came to be and your place within it. History was unparalleled in its importance.

That’s why he was still at the school, marking very obviously last-minute written essays, so he could give them back with thorough annotations and advice that he was sure most of them wouldn’t even glance at.

He had popped off to the teacher’s lounge to get a cup of tea, and was making his way back, eyes glued to the swaying liquid as not to spill it, when a smaller figure came barrelling into him. He instinctually moved the tea away, not wanting the scalding water to hit this unfortunate stranger full in the face. Some of the brown liquid dripped to the floor, Levi would surely have his head for it later, but it was better than any burns.

When he was sure the tea was steady, he looked to the stranger on the ground.

He swore he saw a deity.

Erwin peered down at you in pure awe. Albeit being a bit dishevelled and frazzled, you were clearly a force to be reckoned with. Your pant suit was tailored to fit you perfectly, your heels matching your simple jewellery and watch, your hair which was now a little ruffled, was obviously put together with precision in the morning. You were immaculately put together.

And your face, your face. Everything was right where it needed to be in the exact size and proportion to everything else. It was like you had been perfectly carved for over a millennium by only the best sculptors available.

Your aura was something else. Even if he had found you in pyjamas, the power you would exude would be to the same effect. Something in the way your face shifted as thoughts flew across your mind, the way every bit of movement seemed controlled and purposeful. Erwin had read hundreds, maybe thousands of myths all around the world, and none of the gods in them had never been as ethereal as you.

You were the definition of a muse.

You on the other hand were trying to keep down your groans about your ankles as much as possible. Heels were a mistake enough to attempt to run in let alone fall in, god could this day get any…better? Oh no. He was hot.

You swallowed harshly as he looked down at you, tilting his head and eyes wide. You noticed the tea spilt in a little puddle behind him and felt a little guilty, but he seemed to pay it no mind, his piercing blue eyes only on you.

After a silent moment he offered his empty hand. You took it with a hasty thank you under your breath and gripped on. His hand was so warm, so steady, so comfortable to hold. The moment was over quicker than either of you wanted it to be.

You looked to the ground, smoothing down the ruffles in your clothes, some that existed and some that certainly didn’t, so you could reset yourself. You were not going to be flustered by the first man you saw outside of work though to be fair he would be a good reason to let that rule lay down. He was certainly a fine specimen.

You looked back up, coughing to clear your throat. His gaze was already glued to you, it hadn’t been torn off since the moment you bumped into him. His eyes didn’t even shift now you were staring into his. His mouth was slightly agape, his cheeks dusted pink, his eyebrows raised. You were getting nervous but wanted to know what was going on in that head of his.

“Uh, hi…” you started, leaning your head to the side, “Didn’t mean to bump into you there, sorry for spilling your tea.”

He blinked.

“You’re…” he trailed off, having caught himself before he said something stupid. He coughed into his fist, finally looking away, the student poster about splitting atoms on the classroom becoming suddenly riveting. “Sorry, could I help you in anyway?”

You scratched the back of your head with a small smile and Erwin short circuited. “Yeah actually, I’m meant to be picking up a friend’s sister, but I got lost.”

“What’s the student’s name? I may be able to direct you?”

“Historia Reiss.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed.”

It was no question that the girl would be infamous to teachers as well, the girl tended to make quite an impression. Hopefully she wouldn’t be rolling her eyes at you more than necessary when you finally found her.

“Miss Reiss is likely at the gym.” He pointed down a corridor, the one you had come from.

You opened your mouth and closed it again, you would probably get lost again but you couldn’t convince yourself that’s why you asked the next question. “Sorry, do you think you walk me there?”

A colourful array of curses flew through your mind as he stilled, a deer in the headlights. You were about to apologise for being a bother and go on your way when his face brightened to an almost blinding degree and his eyes crinkled with his accompanying smile.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The walk started in silence for a few moments as you both scrambled for something to talk about.

“So um,” you said, “What do you teach here? You are a teacher, right? Not just some random guy taking advantage of the tea?”

He was already panicking being in the vicinity of you, so he almost didn’t pick up your teasing tone. The fact you were making fun of him just made his heart hammer even harder.

“I can confirm I’m not some stranger, to this school at least.” His added smile made your heart skip a beat; you should sue him. “I teach history here, but I won’t burden you with the specifics.”

“Do.”

“Pardon?”

“Burden me with the specifics. The teaching path wasn’t for me, but I admire those who followed it,” you sent a smile of your own back, “Plus, you seem like the kind of guy to know your stuff. You look like a passionate teacher. I wish there were more of those when I went to school.”

He took a second to compose himself, you being very cruel to him right now. He’d known you for approximately two minutes, but you were making it increasingly difficult for him to not declare his inevitable love right then and there.

“Oh well um,” he stumbled over his words, trying to string a few sentences together that would be worthy of your time. His hands were already extended, ready to add a visual focus. “War is quite an obvious favourite to go to, but I’ve always been more interested in the things that went on behind the scenes, the life of soldiers and nurses who lost their lives, the lives of those who stayed behind, anyone trying to look for peaceful solutions. Those have always interested me more. And then going far past the world and civil wars of the past three centuries, going back to when England and France were nowhere near the superpowers they became, and of course focusing all around the world. Europe has honestly been pretty lacklustre with their stories compared to everywhere else.”

He looked back to you, half-expecting you to be twiddling your thumbs, but your sight hadn’t moved. Your eyes were wide and bright like the ones he had seen in Armin and Marco except with an added adult understanding and perspective. This was quite unfair on his heart.

He turned his head down a corridor, taking the opportunity to calm down his heated cheeks. Really quite unfair.

“So what do you do?” He tried his best to make the words come out as smooth as he hoped. You didn’t seem to take notice that they didn’t.

“I’m a lawyer, so definitely a different world from yours.” Your laugh was awe-inspiring, he wished it were his morning alarm. There was no way he could come to hate it.

“It suits you,” he noted. It made perfect sense, everything about you commanded attention, thinking about you controlling a court room was easy to picture.

You sputtered out a few sounds, not sure if they were sophisticated enough to be called words and looked down a corridor as you passed, trying to figure out what the angry looking janitor was thinking about instead of what your brain was. This man was having quite the effect on you, and it wasn’t even his looks! Rude!

“Thank you, assuming that’s a compliment.”

Erwin simply nodded, not wanting to let you be privy to his thought processes right then. He would never recover.

“What area do you work in if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Currently represent for murder and manslaughter cases, anything that usually ended up with a person dead or nearly dead.”

A different world from yours indeed.

“I imagine that’s quite intense.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “The paperwork numbs a lot of it, honestly most of my clients aren’t any different from students.”

“I’d hope not.”

“You’d be surprised. Some of those annoying kids in school tend to keep being annoying, annoying enough to land themselves as a suspect for a murder case.”

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about you intimidating a client into submission and to just listen to you and let you take the reins. He would like to see that. He may possibly want to be subjected to it if he was in the right mood. He towered over you, but he would fall to his knees in a second if you told him to as a joke. He hoped that was a wild exaggeration done by his brain, but he knew most things come from a semblance of truth.

You really were something else.

You couldn’t believe you were talking to someone like him. He seemed so self-assured and at one with the flow of life, not needing to seek more to find contentment. He clearly loved his job as much as you loved yours, both acknowledging the downsides but knew it was worth it in the end.

He seemed to be taking up more and more of your brain as he continued to talk, only adding to the list of positives, there hadn’t seemed to be any negatives yet. You were concerned that there didn’t seem to be any. From his looks to his personality to the way he held himself, it was honesty too good to be true. Right?

When he looked at you, your cheeks would burn, and you’d feel like you were in high school all over again. That was one of the things you had forgotten, although small, they had been of the good parts about school. Crushes had always been a little fun.

But the way his lips pulled into an easy smile should be illegal. You could deal with murderers, not this. If he was ever on the stand in court, you would be a stuttering mess when trying to cross-examine him.

As you two kept talking, you’d take turns left and right, seemingly with no real reason. You were pretty sure you had seen those maths posters before, but you didn’t mention it. You were plenty happy to let this be dragged out a little longer. You were flattered to say the least.

Erwin knew that he couldn’t “trick” you without you noticing eventually, he couldn’t do that to save his life, but he also knew that if you had caught on to his little game, you would mention it if you wanted him to stop. That fact made his chest flutter, though perhaps it probably was time to take you where you needed to go so you didn’t have your friend yelling at you. He wasn’t that cruel.

The sound of cheers reached your eyes, your shoulders deflated. Guess this is it then. The gym doors came into sight and you could spot the cheerleaders practicing their formations through the open door. They all looked exhausted, so it was probably near the end by now.

Against the wall you could see Historia’s “friends” watching and applauding whenever Historia so as much breathed. No wonder she got bored.

Your feet came to a stop, just outside the entrance and you looked up to him. He shifted slightly, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you um…” you said before your eyes few open, “Holy- I can’t believe I didn’t get your name?”

He chuckled, deep and clear. “Erwin, Erwin Smith.”

You gave your name to his and his lips mouthed around it silently, feeling the shape of all the letters. It made you a little flustered how earnestly he was printing it into his brain.

Neither of you moved, you didn’t want to go into the gym, and he didn’t want to leave. To put it simply, you were smitten with each other and it was embarrassingly obvious to everyone including the both of you.

The cheerleaders stopped, grabbing their bags and chugging down litre water bottles. Historia would snitch on you in an instant if she saw you hitting on her teacher, so it was time to depart.

“I guess this is it then…” You dragged out the sentence, still trying to stall.

“I suppose it is.”

“Thank you, I do mean it. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

He nodded, swallowing. “I guess I will. Have a pleasant evening, both you and Miss Reiss.”

You cracked a grin. “I can’t promise she will have one, but I know you definitely made my evening a good one. See you, Erwin.”

He smiled softly. “See you.”

He waved as he walked back through the corridors, he snuck a look over his shoulder when he had almost disappeared from view to find you still looking at him. Both of your faces burst into flames and you looked away from each other.

You took Historia home after she (mainly her friends) questioned why you were there instead of Frieda. Reiner, you believed his name was, offering to take her home as suavely as he could to be shot down so quickly by Historia you got whiplash. Her friends bid her dramatic goodbyes which she didn’t reply to, and you two made your way to the car.

“Were you talking to Mr Smith?” She didn’t even bother taking her eyes off of her phone to ask.

“I…I was. I got lots trying to find you so he helped me get to the gym.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “He didn’t need to take you all the way there though.”

“He was…he was just being nice.”

She hummed, no emotion behind to hide whether or not it was full of doubt. You really didn’t want her to tell Frieda or you’d never live it down.

“I finally get your ass out of the court room and you flirt with the first guy you see? Bold as ever.”

Though maybe, just maybe, it meant you could offer to pick up Historia more often. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

Erwin made his way back to his desk and he plopped himself down on his chair with a sigh. He leant his head back to look at the ceiling, projecting the past minutes on the white ceiling.

He didn’t even ask for your number.

He cursed at himself and dragged a hand over his face before getting back to his mountain of paperwork. Perhaps it was too bold to offer up his heart this quickly.

But you had said “see you”, and maybe it was too much for him to assume, but usually that meant a second meeting was anticipated. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

His tea had gone cold, but that was alright. He had met a goddess that evening after all.

a/n: to the person who sent this in sorry it took so long! this was my first time writing for Erwin so i hope it’s alright! thank you for reading :)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

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#erwin #erwin smith #erwin aot #erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x you #erwin x y/n #erwin smith x y/n #erwin snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #attack on castes #historia #historia reiss

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solaroptile · 3 years

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Hi there, I haven’t done this in a while, but could I request an encanto matchup? I’m an adult, bisexual , and go by she/ her they/ them pronouns.(romantic)

when I say I struggle interacting with others, I mean I struggle- I have social anxiety, and I often get close to a few people and sort of close to others. I can’t interact well with people when I’m not in college- my phone is often off because I forget to reply.

i get anxious really easily, but I have a lot of energy too. I love my friends a lot, and I’m kinda said to be puppy-like, I bounce around, I love cuddles and snuggles and I talk a lot about random things. Sometimes I just run. It makes me feel sometimes that I’m annoting or don’t let others get a word in edge ways. I try to make it obvious that my friends can come to me when they need support and I support them unconditionally. But I still feel guilty..

I struggle with Ptsd, and often have moments when I start to spiral a bit and need to be calmed down- haha daddy issues. I have short, curly brown hair, and am VERY pale, and burn easily, but I also have a lot of freckles and am severely near sighted. I’m also kinda short - 5’4. It may not seem that short, but I’m the shortest in my entire family So I get teased a lot for being that small lol.

I have a lot of hip pains and issues at the moment- makes it difficult to walk sometimes, but I’m trying to figure it out.

i’ts funny, my body is just completely wrong lmao! I have a ton of allergies- like Cheap metals, wool, certain paints.. :( I was born with hips that were disjointed, my eyes are bad, and I’m convinced I might have my hearing going because I can be really loud without realising it and I get really upset and embarrassed..

I love to draw and create characters, stories and narratives! I made a light box the other day and it’s so pretty! I really want to be an illustrator in the future To make children’s narratives really diverse so that every child can see themselves in it! That’s one of my hobbies, but I also taught myself to crochet amigurumi- so I made a lot of pumpkins recently to sell for charity. I also enjoy painting and getting messy- even Before I start painting, I get paint on myself somehow? In my art classes, I’m one of the few people that deliberately get really messy sometimes. I’m ridiculously clumsy though, so the amount of times I’ve dropped the brush or cut myself Is... insane in itself. I burnt myself twice yesterday on a hot glue gun lmao.

I currently study Media Studies, Literature, and Art, in college So that’s fun.

Thank you!

^_^

this one's a long one so you gotta bear with me

i match you with... bruno madrigal!

bruno's also a very awkward and anxious person, so it might be a rocky relationship for you both at first, but i think over time you two will eventually find yourselves growing more and more at ease with each other

while he's not exactly the most receptive to sudden cuddles or touches, all he needs is a bit of time to warm up to and even look forward to it

he's also a very good listener so he doesn't mind letting you ramble about things, especially something you seem to have a keen interest in

he doesn't exactly know how to quell your anxiety over being too talkative or noisy so instead he just tries his best to reassure you by telling you he really doesn't mind how much you talk because he likes seeing you so engaged and excited in what you're discussing

sometimes when you do get too loud for him he'll just tap on your wrist or arm as a non-verbal sign to maybe quiet down a little; he doesn't want to embarrass you but he gets easily overwhelmed if he's in an area that's overly noisy

when you feel as if you're being annoying or having one of your episodes he'll shield you from the rest of the world as best he can and immediately hold you in his arms, if you feel comfortable enough to engage in physical contact. if not expect him to be there prepared to do anything possible to calm you down and show you he cares

bruno is incredibly empathetic when it comes to your physical health and allergies. he'll go to any length to make sure you're comfortable enough wherever you two may be, and is willing to make any accommodations necessary

very quick thing but i could see bruno being 5'4, maybe 5'5 so in order to prove he's taller he'll try to rest his arm on the top of your head and just ends up falling over

he loves watching you work on your illustrations. there's something oddly calming about it and if you ask him for any sort of critique or opinion he'll try to be as honest as possible

there's almost never a need to sugarcoat anything though because most of the time he can never see even a single stroke of paint or an awkward line of a sketch out of place

not to mention how admirable he finds your ambitions of wanting to be an illustrator. he finds it a bit difficult to stay motivated and work his way towards his own goals so seeing you pursue yours helps tremendously

although, please, do not ask this man to paint. he will tip over every paint bottle or easel in existence just trying to get everything set up

he's about as naturally clumsy as you so expect him to be drenched in sticky paint once you both are done

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longing-and-heartache-and-lust · 3 years

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the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.XI

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

Allow me to present to you one of the longest chapters of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with my favourite @gen-syz-art as my artist 💕

______________________________

The journey takes him a little over three weeks.

He moves slower this time, despite the worry and anticipation mixed into one somewhere deep in his chest urging him forward. He needs time to think.

To really think about everything.

He needs to reflect on the time they’ve spent together because that way - and only that way - will he know what to say when he comes back. He knows he needs to apologise for leaving like that, for making them both so confused with his words and actions, but he also needs to know what he’s going to say after that.

Is he going to ask if they can start over? Pick up from where they’ve stopped the last time? Take a few steps back?

It’s hard to tell what he wants, let alone how it’s going to be.

If Jaskier doesn’t accept his apologies and tells him to go away, will he do as he’s told or will he stay, unwilling to give up that easily? If he cannot fix what he’d broken, if he’d hurt Jaskier too much, what will he do?

Eskel sounded very convincing, telling him that Jaskier won’t turn him away at the gates, but now that Eskel wasn’t here, it was harder to believe. And though he’d promised to keep Geralt company if Jaskier does tell him to go away, Geralt doesn’t know what he’ll do if that really happens. It hurts so much as it is, he can barely imagine what he’s going to do if he doesn’t get the chance to fix it.

Eskel was right, Geralt had never been in love before.

He never even thought that that’s what that feeling in his chest is, but after Eskel said that it’s love and he thought about it, he realised soon enough that he was right.

As terrifying as it was to admit, but he was hopelessly in love.

What other explanation was there to the fire burning in his chest? To just how much it made him feel when Jaskier was close, when Geralt held him in his arms and pressed those soft, half-hearted kisses into his hair?

He’d thought it was just lust, at first.

Jaskier was driving him insane with all his little games, always close enough to kiss but never closing in that distance; always teasing and provoking only to break away just before Geralt could snap, laughing with the power he’s got over the witcher.

Geralt wanted to pin him to the nearest wall, kiss that grin off his lips, strip his bard - his prince - of all that silk and see just what kind of sweet little sound he could get him to make. Learn what his body feels like against Geralt’s own, the taste of his flawless skin.

But almost from the start, he knew he wanted more than just that. And in that last week they’ve spent together, he realised just how much more.

He wanted to have Jaskier in his arms as he fell asleep every night and then woke up in the morning. He wanted to steal kisses from him during the day for no real reason other than to feel his lips on his own, and stay in bed until night falls again, having postponed all responsibilities in favour of simply being together.

He wanted to see that bright smile on Jaskier’s lips and know that he’s the reason for it, and be his comfort if something upsets him.

It was unlike him at all, Geralt knew that, but there was little he could do about his heart. He used to think that he had control over it, just like over every other part of his body, but forcing his heart to stay calm on a hunt turned out to be very different to trying to force it to do the same thing when it came to Jaskier.

It was a lost cause.

He fell hard and fast, without even realising, and now he had to fix what he’d done while trying to run from it.

It was overwhelming at first, but slowly, as he sorted through all his feelings and emotions, it became easier to put into words. The pain was still there, and he doubted it would go away unless Jaskier forgives him for leaving the way he did, but now there was also hope.

Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could get both their hearts to heal.

***

When there are only a few more days left between him and the mansion, Geralt gets nervous again.

Falling asleep at night gets harder than it should be, and he stays up for hours, playing out dialogues in his head, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Jaskier again.

His scent still bears a hint of his scent from those nights that they’ve spent looking at the stars, both covered with it, and Geralt keeps it close to him at night, so that when he does finally fall asleep, he has the scent of dried herbs and vanilla somewhere deep in his lungs.

When he reaches the now-familiar little town, he decides to stay for the night even though the sun had just started to set. He needs some proper rest before closing in that remaining distance.

Geralt leaves Roach in the stables, making sure that she will receive the best possible care after a long journey, and makes his way to the same inn that he’d stayed at both previous times. The innkeeper recognises him instantly, but Geralt is not really in the mood to talk. It’s been a long couple of months.

He rents a room on the upper floor, where it’s quiet, though he’s not entirely ready to meet that silence.

Dinner doesn’t seem appealing, the nerves almost making Geralt feel nauseous, so he chooses to just order himself a bath, instead. With any luck, it will relax him enough for him to fall asleep before dawn.

***

The last two hours between the town and the mansion feel like an eternity.

A couple of times Geralt has to stop Roach to breathe through the waves of cold fear, but he knows that there is little he can do to really keep it at bay. It’s strange, because he can barely even remember what it's like, being this nervous, but then again, hunting werewolves and wraiths is not the same as trying to piece a broken heart back together.

When they do finally reach the mansion, Geralt stops a quarter-mile away from the gates to give himself just a little more time.

“It’s going to be alright,” he reassures Roach, patting her neck, but really, he’s telling that to himself. “You’ll see.”

The mare flicks an ear at him, unimpressed, but once he bribes her with a sugar cube, she bumps her head into his shoulder affectionately. It does make him feel a little better.

Geralt lets go of the reins, knowing that Roach will follow him regardless, and takes in a deep breath, walking up to the gates.

It’s unusually quiet, the gardens seemingly completely empty, and for a second, Geralt feels like his heart stops beating completely, that familiar cold fear washing over him. Is it too late? Has he really hurt Jaskier so much that he’d left the mansion?

Forcing his breathing to stay even, he brings his hand up to push on one of the arches of the gates. They open without resistance, letting him through. Before taking another step, Geralt stops and listens, all his senses heightened, and, after a few endless seconds, sighs in relief, picking up the faint sounds of voices and movement from somewhere deeper in the garden.

At first, he wants to go to the front door, assuming that Jaskier would be in the library, but something deep inside him says that that’s not the right place, that he should look in the gardens.

“You found my hiding place.”

“Searched the entire garden.”

“This is one of my favourite places of the entire estate. If I’m not in the mansion, I’m here.”

The willow tree, Geralt thinks, His hiding place.

Walking through the gardens on his own feels wrong, almost like he’s no more than an intruder, but he just cannot wait for someone to come up to him and offer company. He needs to find Jaskier before that feeling of uncertainty seeps deep enough into his bones for him not to go through with it.

The willow is hidden deep in the gardens, and it takes Geralt some time to find the right path but eventually, he hears Asra and Lucio somewhere ahead, and that is all the conduit he needs to find his way. The dogs are always somewhere close to their owner.

Geralt knows that they can smell him long before they see him, and still, both dogs perk up when he gets into their field of vision. On some level, he expects them to run up to him and sniff at his armour, like they did all the times before, as if reassuring him that he’s still welcome here, but both Asra and Lucio stay put, only their nostrils flaring. They step from one leg to the other, like they want to come closer, but their ears stay pressed to their heads in hesitation.

They can’t trust him anymore, because he’d hurt Jaskier.

It feels like another stab into his chest, but Geralt knows that it’s fair, that it’s what he deserves after leaving like that.

“I need to see him,” he says softly as he comes closer and the dogs block his way.

They don’t growl or act aggressive in any other way, but Geralt knows that they’re going to protect Jaskier no matter what.

“I want to talk,” he says, raising his hands as if to indicate that he’s unarmed, that he’s not going to hurt the bard again. “I cannot leave this as it is.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the tone of his voice or the words themselves but whatever it is, both Asra and Lucio stay in their place as he brushes past them and moves the long vines of the willow to the side, stepping inside with no breath in his lungs.

His heart feels like it rips apart when he sees Jaskier.

He’s in the same spot as he’d been in the last time, an open book in his lap, heavily annotated in his delicate handwriting. Instead of the forest-green silk, though, he’s wearing a chemise of dark silver, the sleeves a waterfall of silk down his arms. It’s almost a steel shade, same as the autumn sky above, and for some reason, it resonates through Geralt in another wave of pain.

Jaskier notices him out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t raise his head.

“Whatever it is, Arthur, I’ll deal with it later,” he says, and Geralt could swear that his voice sounds so tired that it’s like even talking in itself is hard for him. “If there’s someone at the gates, tell them I’m not accepting visitors.”

Geralt stays in place, his heart beating hard and fast, and a few moments later, Jaskier finally raises his head. His eyes widen, shoulders going tense.

“Geralt?”

There’s an edge of a tremble to his voice, and Geralt wants to throw himself onto the grass next to him, pull Jaskier into his arms and hold him until he’s safe and warm again. But he stays where he is, unsure if he’s allowed as much as a touch.

Jaskier’s breathing gets heavier, and he snaps his fingers once- twice- three times, never taking his eyes off Geralt, before looking down and his trembling hands, something like disbelief slithering through the blue of his eyes.

“Is it really you?” he asks, getting up to his feet, holding onto the tree trunk with one hand.

Finally, Geralt takes a step closer, barely even realising.

“It’s me.”

And then, before he knows it, Jaskier closes in the distance between them in four fast steps, and throws his arms around the witcher’s neck, pulling him into a desperate, painfully-hard embrace, clinging onto his shoulders with shaking fingers.

Geralt doesn’t care if he’s breathing anymore.

He pulls Jaskier closer, wrapping his arms around his back, and holds him so tight that he’s scared there are going to be bruises. He buries his nose into the bard’s soft hair, breathing him in, and presses a long, desperate kiss to his temple, hot tears stinging his eyes.

“I’m so sorry--” he whispers, never letting go. “I’m so sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier shakes his head, tightening his grip even more, and Geralt can feel the salty scent of his tears. He doesn’t let go, just slips one of his hands into Jaskier’s hair, running his fingers through the strands in soft, comforting caresses.

“All that I’ve said about Toussaint and not coming back to Redania was a lie,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to see Jaskier’s face.

He tries to hide, eyes wet and reddened with tears, but Geralt tips his chin up, gently wiping the wet lines from his cheeks. He desperately wants to kiss him, cover Jaskier’s parted lips with his own, but he knows that he cannot. Now is not the time.

“I never wanted to leave,” he says, brushing Jaskier’s chestnut hair out of his face. “But I was getting so confused, so overwhelmed by what I wanted and what I thought was right, that I felt like I’d make too many mistakes if I stayed.”

Jaskier sniffles, but his eyes remain crystal-clear, filled with that very same hurt, never letting Geralt forget about that knife in his chest.

“And what mistakes would those have been?” Jaskier asks, taking a step away from the witcher.

Geralt doesn’t let him go.

“I always hurt everyone that gets too close,” he says after a moment, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes. “I never mean to do it, and yet it keeps happening, no matter how hard I try to avoid it. It’s like Destiny itself takes people away from me. So eventually, I just learned to push everyone away before I hurt them. But with you… I thought I was choosing the lesser evil, Jask. Thought I was protecting you.”

Jaskier lets himself be guided back into Geralt’s arms and rests his head on the witcher’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“We both know that’s not the only reason,” he says quietly.

Somehow, he sees right through Geralt, and had it been anyone else, Geralt would’ve hated it, but it’s Jaskier. He’s already got his heart, what could Geralt possibly hide from him now?

“It scared me,” he admits, crumbling into pieces when Jaskier slowly brings both his arms up to wrap them around his shoulders again. “Everything that was happening between us, I didn’t know what to do with myself. No one has ever looked at me the way you do.”

Jaskier pulls back just enough to meet his eyes, and this time Geralt holds himself back from looking away. Something in his face changes, softens.

“No one?” he echoes.

Geralt shakes his head and leans into the touch when Jaskier cups the sharp of his jaw with his hand, gently brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek.

“There aren’t many people that see witcher for something more than what the mutations make us.”

“Oh, darling--” Jaskier breathes, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Geralt’s face and letting his fingers linger on his skin.

Geralt covers his hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the bard’s palm.

“That doesn’t justify me,” he says, and his heart is beating so fast that it almost hurts. “I should never have left like that, should never have lied to you just because I thought we’d both be better off that way.”

Jaskier parts his lips to say something, but Geralt doesn’t let him. If he’d already started, he needs to say everything before he runs out of courage to do it.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to come back, both because I thought that I’d never be able to make all of this work, and because I was sure that you won’t want me anymore after I hurt you the way I did,” he says. “I wanted to, I desperately fucking wanted to, but I was sure that you’d turn me away right at the gates. It was my brother that had convinced me to give it one more try. To at least apologise.”

All the remaining ice in Jaskier’s eyes cracks and melts away, bringing back the cornflower-blue that Geralt had grown to love so much.

“You hurt me,” Jaskier nods, never taking his hand away from Geralt’s. “But I still want you here. It’s been more than two months, and every day I was hoping that you’ll come back. I always knew that those words about Toussaint were a lie.”

Without looking, he finds Geralt’s other hand and brings it up to his chest, pressing his palm to it. His heart is beating hard and fast, like a bird trapped in a cage.

“You broke my heart, Geralt,” he says, and the knife in the witcher’s chest twists. “And it’s going to take time for it to heal. But I want you here with me.”

That is everything Geralt could ever ask for. A chance to fix what he’d broken, to find a way to make this all work. It’s going to take time, he knows, but that is something that he can give them both. Winters in this part of Redania are long and cold, and it’s not long now until the first snow starts falling. And if Jaskier allows him, he will stay with him through all those months.

“Let’s go inside,” Jaskier says after a few moments. “It’s getting cold.”

Geralt nods and hums something affirmative, but doesn’t let go, still holding Jaskier in his arms. He’s not sure when he’ll be able to let go, either, because after all those weeks spent apart, he feels like he needs Jaskier’s warmth more than anything else.

Jaskier sighs, but Geralt can hear his smile behind it.

They stay like that for a long while more after that, and none of them care to count how long exactly.

***

Despite the lingering thrum of guilt in his veins, it feels nice to be back in the mansion.

After Geralt settles back into his room - it’s strange just how familiar it feels now - and gets out of his armour, he finds Jaskier in the library, warming up by the fireplace. Asra and Lucio are sleeping next to him, pressed to his sides like two blankets of white fur.

There’s nothing that Geralt wants more than to wrap his arms around Jaskier again, hold him like that until he falls asleep, and then through the entire night, but he can feel the distance between them. It’s not just time that Jaskier needs to heal. It’s also space.

So Geralt chooses one of the chairs, instead, unable to take his eyes off the bard while he’s not looking.

It’s not uncomfortable, this silence between them, but it will take time for things to go back to the way they were. And for now, Geralt is just happy that he’s here, that the knife he’d carried around in his chest for the last ten weeks had finally been pulled out, and the wound can start to close.

When Jaskier turns to him, his eyes are tired but bright.

“It was lonely without you,” he smiles, and Geralt realises with a new intensity just how far gone he is for him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Geralt wants to say that he’d missed him, too, but he’s so not used to expressing his feelings like that, that he can’t bring himself to. The words are right there, on the tip of his tongue, but it’s just too hard to actually say them.

There is, however, something that he needs to ask.

“If you knew that I was lying, why haven't you stopped me?”

Jaskier looks at him for one endlessly long moment, like he’s searching for something in his eyes, and then sighs, casting his gaze downwards. He plucks at the edge of the blanket thrown over his knees in hesitation before finally meeting Geralt’s eyes again.

“Because that would’ve been the single most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he says, and the pain in his eyes knocks all air out of Geralt’s lungs.

“What are you--”

“I’m cursed, Geralt.”

The words hang in the air heavily as Geralt’s mind goes into overdrive.

It can’t be true. He would’ve felt magic, his medallion would’ve reacted to it. Unless it’s a complicated, masterful curse that doesn’t depend on something fueling it. But those are so hard to come by that Geralt usually doesn’t even consider them a possibility.

He doesn’t know how long the silence lasts before he finally echoes:

“Cursed?”

Jaskier still avoids looking him in the eye, his fingers running through the soft fur on Lucio’s neck absentmindedly. Geralt doesn’t press it, just holds out his hand for Jaskier to take it if he wants. The bard gives him a little smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but doesn’t move. Geralt tries not to think about the stab of pain he feels in his chest at that.

“I suppose I knew that I’d have to tell you someday,” Jaskier sighs, brushing his hair out of his face and turning to look into the fire. “Just not this soon.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No, Geralt,” Jaskier says, cutting him off with powerless frustration in his voice. “No, if you’re going to stay, if we’re going to do this, you need to know. You deserve to know.”

Geralt wants to say that Jaskier shouldn’t upset himself further, that it’s been an emotional day as it is, but then he recalls Eskel’s words about letting him decide for himself and stays quiet.

After a little while, Jaskier takes in a deep breath and turns to face him again.

“I graduated from the Oxenfurt Academy when I was eighteen. And I had all these plans for my future, all these great visions of elegance and sophistication, of being surrounded by art and riches,” he makes a wide gesture with his arm, indicating to the room around them. “Of all of this. This is what I've been promised and it was what I did all of that for, really. I’ve always loved the idea of living like this.”

Geralt bites his tongue and doesn’t ask him about his family. He’s not ready to learn if he’s actually a prince. Though even if he’s not, Geralt feels like in his mind, he’ll always be one.

“And so when I finally graduated - with honours, may I add - that was all that I really wanted. I couldn’t wait to get a proper taste of all that,” Jaskier goes on, chuckling humorlessly. “But there was this one girl in the Academy that fell in love with me during the last year - Estie. We weren’t even on the same course but twice a week, we had history and geography classes together. I’ve always been kind to her, I suppose, but I wasn’t interested in romance. Had my fun here and there, tried new things, but all of that was mostly limited to a night or two.”

He’s still not really looking at Geralt but the witcher never takes his eyes off him.

“I tried my best not to hurt her when saying that I’m not interested in a relationship, and explained that for a couple of years I wanted to taste the court life, and she seemed to take it pretty well until a few days later someone caught in an alleyway by the docks in Oxenfurt and pushed me through a portal.”

“Nothing I hate more than fucking portals,” Geralt murmurs, hoping to make the bard smile just a little, and thankfully, he does.

“Absolutely horrible, yes,” Jaskier laughs, and Geralt feels like that sound alone could heal all his wounds. “Luckily, I’ve only had to experience it once. But that was what led me here, to this mansion. Estie was nowhere to be seen but there was a mage that had opened the portal and was waiting for me. I had more questions than I could even put into words but I wasn’t really the one doing the talking back then.”

Geralt can feel the change in his scent, a sharp edge of heartache to it, and he has to grip the armrests of the chair tighter not to reach out for him.

Asra and Lucio seem to feel it, too, waking up from their sleep and raising their heads to poke their wet noses at Jaskier’s cheeks and lick him, making the bard laugh over the lump in his throat and bat them away.

“She told me that if I wanted art and riches, I could have them,” he says, shrugging sharply with one shoulder. “All I needed was to snap my fingers, move my wrist, really. I didn’t believe her, of course, but I still tried, just to prove her wrong.”

Jaskier darts a quick glance at Geralt and moves his wrist with effortless grace. Geralt’s medallion hums against his chest, and a second later, there is an open book in Jaskier’s hand, magic still coming off it in waves.

Geralt blinks at him, parting his lips to say something - anything - but failing to form his thoughts into words. How could he have missed it?

“As you can guess, it was me that had been proven wrong then. And my fingers were still numb with magic when the mage told me that now that I can create all the art and riches that I want by just thinking about them, I have time to think about “what truly matters”. She said that I can change this mansion in any way I can think of, making it bigger or smaller, changing the walls, the rooms, the gardens, and I can fill it with all the wealth of Redania but until I have something that will truly make me happy, I will step outside the gates.”

Jaskier flips through the book in his hand, and though he keeps his eyes on the pages, Geralt can still see the way they glisten with tears.

“I didn’t believe that, either, of course,” Jaskier laughs nervously. “As soon as she disappeared in a portal, I was out the door. But once I pushed open the gates and took one step beyond them, I couldn’t move. It’s like there is a wall that no one can see but that’s impossible to get through.”

Geralt doesn’t need to be a witcher to feel his distress. It’s not just in his scent, it’s in his shoulders, in his uneven breathing, in the wet lines on his cheeks. The air itself seems to hum with tension, and as Jaskier sniffles, wiping at his cheek stubbornly, Geralt can hear something glass shatter in the hallway.

If he controls the entire estate with his magic, it’s going to be sensitive to his emotions.

But magic that strong… Geralt had only seen it a few times in his life.

“Jask--” he calls softly, getting up from his armchair because he cannot bear the distance between them.

He doesn’t know what he can say. There are so many thoughts racing through his mind that it feels impossible to stop on any single one. He comes closer, getting down onto the floor beside Jaskier and, to his surprise and immeasurable relief, the bard presses himself to his chest in search of comfort.

Geralt wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer, slowly rocking from side to side, and presses a kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head, closing his eyes.

“It took me quite some time to figure out that it was Estie that paid the mage to do all this,” Jaskier says after a while spent in silence. “No one else had much reason to go this far and pay such money, because I doubt that getting a mage to cast such an elaborate curse is cheap. And she was the only one that knew those exact words - art and riches. It couldn’t have been anyone but her.”

Geralt can feel his hands tighten into fists where they’re wrapped around Jaskier. He’d always fucking hated people that can’t get over being rejected and turn to someone more powerful for revenge, be it simple street thugs or mages.

“How long has it been?” he asks carefully.

Jaskier chuckles nervously, and Geralt holds him even closer, like he’s trying to protect him.

“Seven years.”

Seven years. The words feel like a slap to the face, and their echo rings in Geralt’s ears.

Seven years. That’s more than a quarter of Jaskier’s life.

“I’ve tried everything you can think of,” Jaskier says before Geralt has the chance to respond. “Created and then destroyed just about every single thing that my imagination could come up with. And nothing has ever worked. You saw the mark on my back. That’s the seal of the curse.”

The mark on his back.

Geralt thought about it a few times after he saw it but he never thought of as much as a possibility of it being what Jaskier says it is. He’d seen curses marked with seals before but they mostly looked like scars, burned deep into the skin, and not delicate designs that look more like an adornment than anything else.

Without thinking, Geralt runs his hand over Jaskier’s back, and his fingers tingle with magic when he passes over the mark between Jaskier’s shoulder blades.

The bard shivers in his arms.

“Don’t do that,” he breathes, but presses himself closer to the witcher. “It’s sensitive.”

Oh, Geralt could do a lot of things with that information. But not now.

He obediently takes his hand away, resting in on the small of Jaskier’s back, instead, and just holds him, waiting patiently until the bard finally gives in and lets his stubborn resistance down, hiding his face in the curve of Geralt’s shoulder and letting his tears flow down his cheeks. They smell of salt and heartache, and Geralt’s heart rips apart in his chest, but he doesn’t make any move to let go, giving Jaskier the time and the safety he needs.

“The mark will disappear when the curse is broken,” he says, sniffling and clinging onto Geralt’s shoulders, his entire body leaning into the touch. “Only then will I be able to step outside the gates. But as long as I have it on me, I’m trapped here. And that is why asking you to stay would’ve been the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t want to tie you to this place, as well.”

Geralt's chest gets painfully tight, and his heart is beating so hard that he feels like it’s going to break through his ribs.

He was so fucking wrong about everything.

“I’m sorry I left you here alone,” he whispers, turning his head to press a kiss to Jaskier’s temple and fighting back tears of his own. “I should’ve been more thoughtful.”

Jaskier shakes his head, slowly calming down.

“You didn’t know.”

There isn’t much more than Geralt could say. His mind is still racing, same as his heart, and where Jaskier’s chest is pressed to his own, he can feel the bard’s heartbeat, too - hard and fast.

Geralt holds him, giving them both time that they need to think it all over, and murmurs comforting little things into Jaskier’s ear every time that he sniffles or sobs, soaking the fabric of Geralt’s worn black shirt with his tears.

He lets him cry, wishing only that he could take all that pain from him, and he doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours that pass before Jaskier’s tears finally start to dry, and his breathing evens out, safe for quiet little sniffles.

He doesn’t care how long it’s been.

His body goes numb from being in one position for too long, but none of that matters.

Slowly, he pulls back just enough to get a look at Jaskier. Even with his eyes red and swollen with tears, he’s the most beautiful man Geralt’s even seen.

“We will find a way to break it,” Geralt says, voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

He cups Jaskier’s face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears, and leans in to touch his lips to his forehead in a soft, chaste kiss.

“Do you believe me?”

He breaks away to look at Jaskier again, and this time, the bard holds his gaze. His impossibly-blue eyes search for something in Geralt’s for a long, silent moment, until finally, he sighs without his breath hitching and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Geralt’s. “I do.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier big bang #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivial #jaskier #the drug the dark the light the flame #my writing #calton writes

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lizziestudieshistory · 3 years

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Let's have a chat about books, reading, and the impact of places like booktube, book twitter, and the dreaded goodreads! I've been mulling on this post for a while and I wasn't sure if I was going to write it. But as this blog is mainly a space for me to work out some feelings, I'm doing it for myself. So sorry for rambling, lack of proofreading, and the ridiculous amount of punctuation, especially parentheses. Feel free to keep scrolling and ignore me!

If you've interacted with me (in real life or online) for longer than about 5 seconds you'll know I like books... In fact "like" is a bit of an understatement... It's one of my defining character traits and has been since I learnt to read. I'm that person who, takes books to the pub and regularly falls over things because they're attempting to walk and read (and have done many times to the great amusement of my so called "friends"!) Yet, recently I've been feeling a bit...odd about my reading, like I'm not good enough to be a proper reader and, after some introspection and weird conversations with my bookish friends, I've pinpointed why. (Hint: it's bookish social media!)

When lockdown started my reading skyrocketed. At the time I was employed as a library assistant and was put on furlough while the library was closed, so I had more time than ever to read and the inclination to do it because I was bored. This led me to reading almost a third more than I usually do in a year, in some months I doubled it reading from 4-6 books a month to 10-13!

In some ways this was great, I was reading more than ever; in others it wasn't because, to be frank, I don't remember a lot of those books well. I can tell you plot and main characters but themes, feelings, my thoughts on them? Not much, for some nothing at all. In terms of quality it was a mediocre year - I actually struggled to find a top 5 list of books because I couldn't remember them and didn't think the quality was worth the praise. I did read some new favourites: Wuthering Heights, Emma, Beren and Lúthien are really the only stand out books, and maybe Rhythm of War for the sheer excitement.

However, 2020 set a precedent for me. I know I can read just under 100 books a year when I usually average 55-60. Rationally, I know 60 books is a lot when I'm a part time student, carer, and tiny business owner! Most days I only get an hour or two to properly sit down read before bed, once I'm finished with all my other responsibilities. But the possibility is still there, and it's starting to eat away at me as I've returned to my very reasonable 4-6 books a month now I'm busy again.

I've ALWAYS been happy with how much I read. But this year I'm not, and it's to do with the simultaneous reading boost and proper discovery of bookish social media. Lockdown gave me the free time to doss about on my phone (my phone and I are the best example of "frienemies" you could imagine!) In that time I found book twitter properly and, actually started watching booktube. I knew both existed but working, studying, and so forth didn't give me the breathing room to properly participate. It made me conscious of HOW MUCH some people read in a year, the boggling numbers and stats some people have around their reading lives. Don't get me wrong, I love a spreadsheet. I've had a spreadsheet for reading since I had to demonstrate my excel skills in Year 9 for a test and created one to track my reading. (I was a nerd, I know...) Point being I like stats, I like reading, both together are great - in moderation.

However, the inbuilt assumptions, expectations, and consumerism around booktube, bookstagram, goodreads, etc. are really unhealthy! It makes reading competitive and a social performance. For some people this works, it works for me to SOME extent. As I've said, I like reading stats and I've kept my own independently of bookish social media since I was 14 (cue feeling old...!) Yet the obsession with how many books you read in a month, is it more than X, am I reading the "right" books and most popular books is insane. And no, no one is doing this explicitly. But the implication is there and there IS a subtext with this unspoken competitiveness. It's not good for me and it's made me, for the first time in my life, feel guilt over what I'm reading or not reading?!

This month (April) has been particularly rough. I've had deadlines and a busy work month which means I've finished three books and a play, and I'm half way through two others. Two years ago I'd have been fine with that, but now I feel like it's not good enough? Why? Because I'm disappointed because I've not read more...

To add insult to imagined, self-inflicted injury, this has been my best month of the year in terms of quality and enjoyment. I've read some cracking novels, an eye opening non-fiction, and had the most wonderful time rereading and annotating Emma. Emma is my favourite novel! I've been wanting to slowly reread it and annotate the story for months! The extent of annotation I wanted to do, not to mention research, means I can't read it fast! Yet I'm annoyed at myself because I've been reading Emma exclusively for 16 days without finishing a book (the fact I know this is...alarming!) I've had the best time, it's been fun, enlightening, and an escape from my fairly boring life. But I'm still frustrated with myself?

So, what does this really mean?

Firstly, I do need to address, privately, my own insecurities and weird relationship with social media when it comes to books. This is a new thing, or a new awareness of it, but it does need some self reflection and rebalancing of my personal priorities.

Secondly, I'm going to avoid bookish social media. Well, mostly. Nothing is changing on here! I'll still be talking about my reading, chatting with people about their own books, and so forth. But I'm abandoning goodreads, book twitter, and booktube. I don't have instagram or tiktok so I can spare myself that palaver at least!

I'm also, for the first time in 8/9 years, going to leave behind my spreadsheet for a bit. I may come back to it because I love looking at my original clunky spreadsheet, how it's improved, and my changing reading tastes (not to mention the alarming number of times I've reread some books, it's honestly a bit embarrassing.) It's got sentimental value! But I need some space to not think about numbers for a bit.

This means I'll mainly be tracking my reading in my journal and returning to the important parts of reading. The books themselves. And my relationship with them: what do I actually think about the media I'm consuming? Am I enjoying myself? Did I take something away from this book? Not just adding them to a list to say "look at how many books I've read!" No one cares, not even me!

Basically, I want to reclaim the love of reading places like twitter and youtube sucked out of me. If you love these places then great! I'm genuinely happy for you, but my personality, mixed with pressures on my time means they're not a healthy place for me.

Anyway, back to Emma because I'm on holiday, it's the ball at The Crown, and I'm in love with Emma and Mr Knightley!

#books #reading #bookish social media #my relationship with reading #personal #long post #did not proofread #sorry guys #tbh i was fed up from proofreading my essay #emma #jane austen #emma is the best and everyone should read it

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tiramisiyu · 4 years

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: A Love Poem to Skadi - Event Story 1-08, Winter and Allie

Translation Masterlist | Themis Event Masterlist

Story: 1-1 / 1-2 / 1-3 / 1-4 / 1-5 / 1-6 / 1-7 / 1-8

Slightly overdue - sorry about that!

To sum this part up, the truth behind the “haunted mansion” was a tragic love story that surpassed the bounds of death. See below for full translation!

Outside the Unknown Room

After finishing the scout around the basement’s four rooms, we finally arrived to the deepest part of this level.

Xia Yan: The room is locked.

Zuo Ran: Do we need to look for the keys?

Xia Yan: No. The lock on this door is mechanism-based; it’s not opened by a key.

Xia Yan: We need to follow an order to successively shift the mechanisms in order to open this lock.

Lu Jinghe: Could we straight-up take it apart?

Xia Yan: No, these kinds of locks all have protective systems. Once the opening method is incorrect, or it’s broken by force…

Xia Yan: It’s very likely that it’ll directly go the opposite way, deadlocking itself. Then we’ll never be able to open it again.

Mo Yi: Then if we obtain something like this lock’s design blueprint, would you be able to find the order to open this?

Xia Yan: I can.

MC: (Blueprint… but where do we find it… wait, have we forgotten something?)

MC: Right! “Allie’s Winter”! “The final guide”!

MC: The deepest part of this mansion’s underground should be where the truth is, as Johnny said.

Mo Yi: I remember it was said before that we needed to restore the picture on the top of the box and finish scouting the four rooms for the box to open.

MC: Correct, and we’ve now already finished scouting the rooms. What we still need is the restored picture…

Zuo Ran: Then it’s probably needed for us to place the collected gem shards back into it.

After speaking, Zuo Ran took the lead, embedding the red gem shards in his hands back onto the box.

The remaining few followed right behind, fitting the collected gem shards of various colours onto it, one by one.

The moment the last shard fell into place, the inside of “Allie’s Winter” made a mechanical activation sound.

Right after, the box lid opened, and two sheepskin scrolls appeared in front of us.

MC: This is…?

Xia Yan: Let me see…

Xia Yan: This one is the personal letter from the designer of “Allie’s Winter”.

Xia Yan: This one…

Xia Yan: I feel like it’s the blueprint for something, but all the components’ pictures have been drawn overlapping on each other…

Xia Yan: Plus, the annotations on the side are in Akkadian. There’s a lot of parts that I can’t decipher.

Lu Jinghe: This blueprint should be the blueprint for this mechanism lock.

Lu Jinghe looked at the mechanism lock on the door, then looked at the blueprint Xia Yan was holding.

Mo Yi: Are you sure? These things piled together do not look like the parts of a lock.

Lu Jinghe: I’m sure. I once saw this sort of overlapping art style from Teacher – it’s a really unpopular thing.

Lu Jinghe: Last century, it once got popular for a period of time within a small range of people, but because it was not used much, it became eliminated very quickly.

Lu Jinghe: If one didn’t specialize in the study of art or design, they probably wouldn’t understand it.

Lu Jinghe: I can help take apart the overlapping components on this blueprint, but the annotations on the side…

Zuo Ran: Let me see.

Zuo Ran took the blueprint, sweeping his gaze roughly over the contents of the sheet.

Zuo Ran: I can decipher most of the content… but some of it…

Zuo Ran: Mo Yi, look at these translated phrases. Are they the names of some sort of medical instruments?

Zuo Ran: It seems like, due to insufficient materials, this designer took apart the components of some medical instruments and used them.

Mo Yi: I’ll try.

MC: Everyone looks so professional…

MC: I also really want to help… but what can I do…

Xia Yan: You can help me open the lock.

Xia Yan: Locks like this typically require two or more people to open it together.

MC: Okay!

Under the aid of Zuo Ran and Mo Yi, Lu Jinghe disassembled the parts very quickly, getting the general blueprint of a mechanism lock.

I then followed Xia Yan’s instructions, working with him, carefully solving the mechanism lock.

A long while after, after a crisp “click” sound, the room’s door opened.

The moment the door opened, what appeared in front of us were two coffins, standing side by side, as well as a tombstone, standing quietly tall and upright.

Inside the Unknown Room

MC: This, this is…

Xia Yan: That’s right, they’re the coffins of Miss Allie and Winter.

Xia Yan quietly approached the two coffins, seriously and carefully examining them up and down several times.

At the end, he pointed at the tiny letters carved on the coffin covers, smiling softly at me.

MC: Sure enough… in that fire, Miss Allie had already…

Lu Jinghe: Don’t you want to hear the complete story between Miss Allie and Winter?

I hadn’t finished talking, but Lu Jinghe, one step ahead of me, cut me short.

He lowered his body slightly, his dark pupils full of smiles and warmth.

Lu Jinghe: Earlier, you used the items and clues left behind in the mansion to deduce all of what happened once in here.

Lu Jinghe: Those are innumerable tiny, fine “points”. It’s only when these points are joined up into a line…

Lu Jinghe: We can most truly and most objectively restore their life.

Mo Yi: This is also the largest esteem and certainty to them, as well as this mansion.

MC: …

Not far away, Zuo Ran nodded at me.

I suddenly remembered the love letters that belonged to Allie and Winter that I’d seen, and immediately let out a deep breath.

MC: Then where should we start?

Xia Yan: …

Mo Yi: …

Zuo Ran: …

Lu Jinghe: …

Lu Jinghe: Then I’ll start it off.

Lu Jinghe cleared his throat and slowly opened his mouth.

Lu Jinghe: This mansion was built approximately 100 years ago. The owner of the mansion was Laste Modero.

Lu Jinghe: He had only one daughter named Allie. He loved this daughter very much.

Lu Jinghe: Laste was extremely rich and made an extensive range of friends. He believed in the Cult of Rebirth, and even held a key position in the religion.

Lu Jinghe: This mansion of his, called the Manor of Hermes, was often used as the gathering site for believers.

Zuo Ran: Simultaneously, Laste’s daughter, Allie, was childhood friends with the butler’s son Winter, and the two grew up together.

Zuo Ran: They could not avoid adoring each other, and finally came together.

Zuo Ran: But this relationship was full of the unknown. For one, Mr. Laste did not agree to his daughter being with the butler’s son.

Zuo Ran: On the other hand, Miss Allie…

MC: She was afflicted with… mania.

Xia Yan: To cure his daughter of her illness, Laste found very many doctors and cured patients one after another, inquiring them for effective methods.

Xia Yan: But regretfully, these methods were ineffective on Allie. Under these conditions with no results…

MC: Laste chose to pray to the church, using the method of “washing away her sins” to save his daughter’s life.

Lu Jinghe: The church dropped an “oracle”, dispatching a divine envoy by the name of Geruide to help Allie wash away her sins.

MC: But truthfully, the command that this Geruide received from the church was to seize the inheritance rights of the Modero family’s riches after Allie’s death.

Mo Yi: Geruide disguised himself as a doctor and arrived at the mansion, performing treatments on Allie that lacked any procedure.

Mo Yi: These treatments aggravated Allie’s illness more. If near the beginning, she was able to maintain a state of clarity for a period of time per day…

Mo Yi: In the end, Allie had fallen completely into insanity.

MC: …

Zuo Ran: Winter, who saw all of this, decided to take Allie away from this mansion.

Zuo Ran: He created a plan that he believed would make them able to completely break away from the mansion, which was…

MC: Setting fire to the mansion.

MC: But before he had finished his preparations, Geruide decided to carry out a lobotomy on Allie, and found many experimental subjects.

Zuo Ran: Winter, who found out about this information and witnessed the miserable conditions of the experimental subjects decided to put his plan in action in advance, to bring Allie away immediately.

Xia Yan: But Winter’s plans were still found out by Laste. He worked with the police director, wanting to wait for an opportunity to throw Winter into jail.

MC: So the day that Winter decided to act on was…

Lu Jinghe: It probably was the day that Allie underwent surgery. Don’t forget, that blood pentagram was unfinished.

MC: Then after, it was Winter who set fire in the mansion…

Xia Yan: No, I think the person who set the fire wasn’t Winter.

MC: ???

Xia Yan: The oil buckets that Winter bought to set the fire were not opened. Plus, based on the burned state of the mansion’s first floor…

Xia Yan: The fire started from the kitchen and spread to the various rooms of the first floor, particularly the splits in the mansion paths.

Xia Yan: But the fire did not burn to the second floor or above. These aren’t the results of a gasoline fire.

MC: Then who set the fire?

Zuo Ran: I think… it was probably Allie.

MC: !!!

Zuo Ran: We also found fire experiment records in her room. Those records were probably taken away by her deliberately.

Xia Yan: If it were Allie, then that would make sense.

Xia Yan: I think that the situation that day was… Winter followed his plan, preparing to start the fire, but he was caught red-handed by Laste.

Xia Yan: The two grappled, startling Allie awake. Maybe at that moment, Allie regained a portion of her reason.

Xia Yan: She saw Winter, covered in wounds from her father, and remembered that fire experiment report…

Xia Yan: She then obtained an open flame from the kitchen, lit the kitchen ablaze first, which then spread to the whole first floor.

Xia Yan: The fire blocked off all paths to escape outside, leaving just the main door, and Allie left this opportunity to Winter.

Zuo Ran: Allie and Winter promised that both would persist in living, and would meet after the fire was extinguished.

Zuo Ran: But when Winter returned to the mansion as promised, all that awaited him was just Allie’s ice-cold body and the left message on the wall of the raid shelter room.

MC: So the marks left on that wall were Allie’s!

Mo Yi: It was probably left by her due to the simultaneous effects of asphyxia and mania in the raid shelter room.

Zuo Ran: That’s right.

Xia Yan: Winter created a coffin for Allie and kept this coffin in the deepest area.

Xia Yan lightly patted that coffin that was clearly somewhat old.

Xia Yan: And he himself settled in the mansion, silently protecting the person he loved, until death.

Xia Yan: Sometimes, to scare off those adventurers who intruded on the mansion in vain, he could only dress up as a ghost to scare off those people…

Xia Yan: Plus, he still had the wounds from his fight, so he already looked somewhat savage, so his fearsome power became stronger when he dressed up as a ghost.

Xia Yan: As time passed, the “haunted” legend of the Manor of Hermes spread.

MC: …

This was the truth of the “Haunted Mansion”.

This was no stirring legend. It was no more than the story of two people in a maelstrom, clinging to and saving each other…

And in the end, only one person was left, guarding on his own.

MC: Then what about Winter’s coffin? Who made it?

MC: And the mechanism lock on the door – who did all this?

Mo Yi: Probably Winter himself.

Mo Yi: I just examined it – though the lock on the door is designed so that it’s very hard to open from the outside, it’s very easy to open from the inside.

MC: But why did Winter…

Zuo Ran: Do you still remember the last sentence on Winter’s suicide note?

Zuo Ran: “I will protect you until the end of time”… and on the back of the mechanism lock blueprint, there is a row of identical words.

Zuo Ran: Winter might have… decided to lock himself into this room at the end of his life, locking himself into the coffin he made himself.

MC: How could it be… like this…

I didn’t know why, but I inexplicably felt somewhat suffocated.

Is this their ending? Soundlessly, wordlessly falling into sleep in this dark place, devoid of sunlight?

Lu Jinghe: Before us, there should’ve been other people to come in here.

Lu Jinghe: It’s very obvious that this tombstone was erected by people who came after.

Xia Yan: It’s not just the tombstone. “Allie’s Winter” was also made by people after to commemorate them, while simultaneously protecting this mansion.

Xia Yan handed the sheepskin scroll that was originally placed in “Allie’s Winter” to me.

Xia Yan: Based on what’s written on this note, the creator of “Allie’s Winter” accidentally obtained the mechanism lock’s blueprint.

Xia Yan: After he got an understanding of what happened in this mansion and entered this room, he decided to continue protecting Winter and Allie’s peace.

Xia Yan: So he set up door locks for the other rooms in the basement, then integrated the essentials of the unlocking parts into “Allie’s Winter”.

Xia Yan: Based on his wishes, “Allie’s Winter” could only circulate between few people who had received approval.

Xia Yan: All these past years, those who have obtained this box have used their own methods to protect this place.

MC: …

Mo Yi: So, don’t feel sad for Winter and Allie.

I didn’t know when, but Mo Yi was already standing by my side.

Mo Yi: Their story will still continue, after surpassing the boundaries of life and time.

Mo Yi: Though this place does not see the light of day, every person who has protected this place before has brought them the brightest light.

MC: …

As if compelled by an otherworldly force, I walked towards the tombstone standing upright on the side.

On it, the story of Allie and Winter was recorded word by word, and at the end of the story, the tombstone carver carved that phrase onto it.

That phrase that had appeared in Allie’s love letter, as well as in Winter’s suicide note:

“You are the bright day and the dark night, fresh flowers and sunlight – you are all of goodness and hope.”

“My lover, perhaps there will come one day that time, as well as life and death, will separate us.”

“But the sole matter that I love you will always, always…”

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #weiding shijian bu #未定事件簿 #better late than never ayy #xia yan #lu jinghe #zuo ran #mo yi #tot translation #mihoyo sure loves their tragic love stories huh

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hualianisms · 4 years

Text

MY DREAM IS ONLY YOU: a hualian playlist

(for books 1, 3, 5) (books 2 & 4 here)

listen here

track annotations under the cut:

BOOK 1

a thousand years - christina perri (hc pov)

Every breath/ Every hour has come to this/One step closer/I have died every day waiting for you [...] All along I believed, I would find you/Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years/I'll love you for a thousand more

servants and kings - radical face (xl pov)

And you were not like anyone I'd known/You spoke with impunity, had nothing to atone [...] It's hard to say just when I fell in love/There was no epiphany, no light from above/But you'd become my candle in the dark/And all through that Hell you were the shield across my heart

from eden - hozier

Babe, there's something tragic about you / Something so magic about you / Don't you agree? / Babe, there's something lonesome about you / Something so wholesome about you / Get closer to me [...] Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago [...] I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

雨蝶 - e-jun lee (translation) (hc pov)

I fly towards you/I'm not tired, no matter how far/Even if there has been pain and tears in this journey [...] I break the cocoon and become a butterfly/willing to fly side by side with you

time after time - iron & wine (hc pov)

If you're lost you can look and you will find me/Time after time/If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting/Time after time

on your own - nick lachey (hc pov)

But if the world should ever fall apart around you/And if you're lost and barely breathing/I will find you and carry you back home/I won't forsake the only love I've ever known

run to you - pentatonix

(hc pov) I've been settling scores / I've been fighting so long / I'll run to you / I will break down the gates of heaven / A thousand angels stand waiting for me (xl pov) take my heart / And I'll lay down my weapons / Break my shackles to set me free

medicine - daughter (hc pov)

You could still be/What you want to/What you said you were/When I met you/You've got a warm heart/You've got a beautiful brain

BOOK 3

mystery of love - sufjan stevens (both)

Oh, to see without my eyes/The first time that you kissed me [...] Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me/The first time that you touched me/Oh, will wonders ever cease?/Blessed be the mystery of love

pink in the night - mitski

(hc:) I've been blossoming alone over you / And I hear my heart breaking tonight I hear my heart breaking tonight / Do you hear it too? / It's like a summer shower / With every drop of rain singing / "I love you, I love you, I love you" ((when HC turned his blood rain into flower petals for XL))

(xl:) I could stare at your back all day/And I know I've kissed you before, but/I didn't do it right / Can I try again, try again, try again

marry you - paul canning acoustic cover (”gege, wanna get married?”)

i was made for loving you - kina grannis cover (hc pov)

Don't let me go, we'll be alright/Touch my soul and hold it tight/I've been waiting all my life/I won't scar your young heart/Just take my hand [...] All I know is, darling, I was made for loving you

all of me - john legend (both)

Cause all of me/Loves all of you/Love your curves and all your edges/All your perfect imperfections

come into the water - mitski (hc pov)

Do you wanna be my baby?/Are you waiting to touch me?/You look so good, but I keep my hands /Til you come into the water/Maybe I'm the same as all those men/Writing songs of all they're dreaming/But would you tell me if you want me?/Cause I can't move until you show me/I didn't know I had a dream/I didn't know until I saw you

futile devices - sufjan stevens (xl pov)

And when I sleep on your couch/I feel very safe/And when you bring the blankets/I cover up my face/I do/Love you [...] And I would say I love you/But saying it out loud is hard/So I won't say it at all/And I won't stay very long/But you are life I needed all along

all this and heaven too - florence + the machine (xl pov)

And I would give all this and heaven too/I would give it all if only for a moment/That I could just understand/The meaning of the word you see/Cause I've been scrawling it forever/But it never makes sense to me at all [...] All this heaven never could describe/Such a feeling as I'm hearing,/words were never so useful/So I was screaming out a language/That I never knew existed before

worship - years & years (hc pov)

I worship, high praises/My longing drives me crazy for you/My kingdom for your graces

coming down - halsey (both)

I found god/I found him in a lover [...] I found the devil/I found him in a lover[...] I've got a lover, a love like religion/I'm such a fool for sacrifice

you are my joy - the reindeer section (xl pov)

You are my joy, you are my joy, you are my joy / If I could cradle you into my arms/I would cradle you tight in my arms always

medicine - the 1975 (xl pov)

you rid me of the blues/Ever since you came into my life/Because you're my medicine

you are gold - the national parks (xl pov/both)

You are gold/You are all i see/You are aurum scarce and meant for kings [...] And there's something I need to say/But I feel too afraid/'Cause when it's real there's a risk/A chance that I'm nervous to take/Oh my, oh my, I think that I have fallen

this is why i need you - jesse ruben (xl pov)

Cause you make the darkness less dark / You make the edges less sharp / You make the winter feel warmer [...] You are the who, love is the what and this is the why

i will - mitski (both)

I will take good care of you/Everything you feel is good/If you would only let you [...] So stay with me/Hold my hand/There's no need/To be brave/And all the quiet nights you bear/Seal them up with care/No one needs to know they're there/For I will hold them for you

heart - sleeping at last (both)

I'm short of breath/Standing next to you/I'm out of my depth/At this altitude [...] You are beautiful/Like I've never seen/Go ahead and laugh/Even if it hurts/Go ahead and pull the pin/What if we could risk/Everything we have/And just let our walls cave in

with you till the end by tommee profitt (hc pov)

I'll take this pain for you/I will pull you through/I'll be with you 'til the end/Through the fire and rain/I will be your strength [...] When your fears are not fading/And there's parts of you breaking/I'll hold the pieces all together with my hands

i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie (hc pov)

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied/Illuminate the “no”s on their vacancy signs/If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks/Then I'll follow you into the dark

chouchou musubi - aimer (translation) ((red knot of fate))

In this blue, wide world, among the millions scattered around/The two of us separately picked a thread and pulled it to ourselves

in a week - hozier (“to die buried together, probably feels like this”)

We'll lay here for years or for hours Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet So long, we'd become the flowers We'd feed well the land and worry the sheep [...] I'd be home with you, I'd be home with you

geyser - mitski (hc pov)

You’re my number one/You’re the one I want/And I’ve turned down/Every hand that has beckoned me to come

oh my stars - andrew belle (xl pov)

If everything you've said to me has been true/Then all my stars are leading me to you [...] Everything you see is ours / Or it could be if you would try / I wish you would I wish you might

so it goes - marianas trench (xl pov)

So I would chose to be with you/As if the choice were mine to make/But you can make decisions too/And you can have this heart to break

don’t deserve you - plumb (hc pov)

You're the reason that I'm alive/You're what I can't live without [...] I don't deserve your love/But you give it to me anyway [...] Your heart is gold and how am I the one/That you've chosen to love/I still can't believe that you're right next to me

love like you - steven universe (both)

If I could begin to be/Half of what you think of me/I could do about anything/I could even learn how to love (Love like you) [...] I always thought I might be bad/Now I'm sure that it's true/Cause I think you're so good/And I'm nothing like you

BOOK 5

turning page - sleeping at last (hc pov)

I've waited a hundred years/But I'd wait a million more for you/Nothing prepared me for/What the privilege of being yours would do/If I had only felt the warmth within your touch/If I had only seen how you smile when you blush/Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough/Well I would have known/What I was living for all along

all i’ve ever known - hadestown (xl pov)

I was alone so long/I didn't even know that I was lonely [...] All I've ever known is how to hold my own/But now I wanna hold you, too/You take me in your arms/And suddenly there's sunlight all around me

atlas: two - sleeping at last (hc pov)

Tell me, is something wrong?/If something's wrong you can count on me/You know I'll take my heart clean apart/If it helps yours beat [...] I just want to build you up, build you up/'Til you're good as new/And maybe one day, I'll get around/To fixing myself, too

better love - glades (xl pov)

Nobody's ever pulled me close like this before/So honest that it scares me/You make it seem alright to be this vulnerable [...] It's safe to say I couldn't know a better/couldn't know better love

the light - sara bareilles (xl pov)

And if you say we'll be alright/I'm gonna trust you, babe/I'm gonna look in your eyes/And if you say we'll be alright/I'll follow you into the light

cecilia and the satellite - andrew mcmahon in the wilderness (hc pov)

For all the things my eyes have seen, the best by far is you / For all the places I have been, I'm no place without you / For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you

光年之外 - G.E.M. (translation) (xl pov)

For you, I’ve already gone insane to the point of/(feeling like) my pulse and heartbeat are totally unimportant without you/A pair of arms encircling my chest/are sufficient for resisting the rotation of the Earth

you’re not alone - meredith andrews (hc pov or both)

You're not alone for I am here/Let me wipe away your every fear/My love, I've never left your side/I have seen you through the darkest night/And I'm the one who's loved you all your life

past lives - BØRNS (both)

Past lives couldn't ever hold me down/Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found/I've got the strangest feelin'/This isn't our first time around [...] Through all of my lives/I'd never thought I'd wait so long for you

the best of you - andy grammar (both)

You've seen my dark side and danced with my shadow [...] you know me, know me/Wrestled with the old me/Saved me at my lowest, all you had to do was hold me/Console me, no matter how far I fall/Cause the best of me loves the best of you

anything for you - ludo (hc pov)

I'd give up anything/Anything for you/I'd give it all/All of this is true/But the best story that I could ever tell/Is the one where I am growing old with you/All I've ever wanted see, was to tell you honestly/I'd do absolutely anything for you

anyone else - pvris (xl pov or both)

'Cause I could touch a hundred thousand souls/But none of them would ever feel like home/And no matter how far and wide I roam/You're the only one I'll ever know/I don't belong to anyone else

francis forever - mitski (the year xl spent waiting for hc to come back)

On sunny days I go out walking/I end up on a tree-lined street/I look up at the gaps of sunlight/I miss you more than anything

wish that you were here - florence + the machine (xl pov)

You're always on my mind/And I never minded being on my own/Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home/To be where you are

i will wait - mumford & sons (xl pov)

I will wait, I will wait for you

find my way back - eric arjes (hc pov)

No distance could ever tear us apart/There's nothing that I wouldn't do/I'll find my way back to you

work song - hozier (hc pov)

When my time comes around/Lay me gently in the cold dark earth/No grave can hold my body down/I'll crawl home to him

gravity - coldplay (reunion)

Baby it's been a long time coming/Such a long, long time [...] And then I looked up at the sun and I could see/Oh, the way that gravity pulls on you and me

POSTCANON

god in jeans - ryan beatty (hc pov)

God is real, he was sleeping in my bed last night/We were naked with the radio on/Played him my favourite song/My love is my religion

watch you sleep. - girl in red (hc pov)

I don't ever wanna leave/I'll watch you sleep/And listen to you breathe [...] I never get /Bored of looking at you/’Cause every time I see somethin' new

little death - the beths (xl pov) ((the demon king’s birthday extra))

When you're near/My heart starts beating faster [...] My lungs they catch on every breath/My heart beats harder at the cage inside my chest/And I die, I die a little death

the idea of growing old - the features (both)

We can talk all night/We can talk all day/We can play charades when there is nothing to say/You turn me on to the the idea of growing old

what a heavenly way to die - troye sivan (both)

What a heavenly way to die/What a time to be alive/Because forever is in your eyes/But forever ain't half the time/I wanna spend with you, you/I wanna be with you, you

1000 years - kt tunstall (both)

In a thousand years/I know that our love will still be here/So close your eyes, my dear/Knowing that our love is going to last one thousand years

the end of all things - panic!at the disco (both)

Whether near or far/I am always yours/Any change in time/We are young again/Lay us down/We're in love/In these coming years/Many things will change/But the way I feel/Will remain the same

#wow this literally took me forever bc of the ridiculous amt of songs #anyway this is a wip may add more songs later #otp: my dream is only you #hualian songs #mine: tgcf

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annakie · 4 years

Photo

An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Twelve

List of Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Last Time: we helped a criminal and chased some monkeys.

This Time: we Main Quest again!

Feros!

I love Feros! It’s such a cool place with crazy, brutalist atmosphere. From a scappy little colony filled with brainwashed people to a scary tower filled with Geth and then down to creepy eldritch horror monster basement... it definitely feels like something new and different.

So let’s start out with that colony.

Tali comes with us to Feros, because of the large amounts of geth on the planet. It seems like the best of the four main planets to have her along with, until the end.

This poor guy. It’d be great if there was some way to save him. Why was he out here on his own!? Someone should be here to help him! and he shouldn’t be standing out where there’s no cover! Hide, man! Hide!

I’m kind of sad we never see muscle-white geth in subsequent games. What are you hiding from us, Harbinger? What did you do with the white-and-blue wall-clinging geth? Do their loyalties lie only with Sovereign?

Also, great job making them seem really freaky here.

One thing I love early on is that the game does a pretty good job not immediately giving up the brainwashing plot, while still making you not feel like a dummy for not figuring it out earlier, yet there are still hints its there.

Alicia here at first seems like she could be a problem. turns out she’s just like, really good at her job and mad about being abandoned here. And the colony is really struggling and on its last lets and they ARE glad you’re there.

And before you can get into too much discussion, geth attack!

It’s a crazy intense fight up the stairs and into the tunnel, until...

Whew, a reprieve. Also, what a cool and terrifying shot. They’re really amping up the tension and complete shittyness of the situation here.

Things are seriously fucked at this colony.

YES I’ll help you!

And you!

Hang on real quick and let me grab this sidequest.

Talking to Hollis Blake is like, the first really big hint that something is very, very wrong here. Always wondered if he’s any relation to Helena.

Hey, is it just me who always, always, always misses one of these water valve fuckers and has to backtrack to find it? This time I was specifically like “I am not going to miss any of the water valves. I will NOT.” And then I did. Does one just.. not show up til you get to the end of the Feros tunnels or am I just that stupid?!?!

Anyway, another reason to bring Tali, she’s pretty much an expert at fixing stuff like this! Kaidan does fine if needed, but the tunnels quests in particular I feel like are right up Tali’s alley.

PUPPIES. That are apparently full of tasty meat for hungry colonists.

This screenshot reminds me that I haven’t driven my car for a week and a half due to quarantine and should do so before the battery dies. Sounds like a job for tomorrow!

Also, I want to know like, how did those vehicles get down here? Is this really underground? What level is the colony on? How do the prothean towers the colonists live in even WORK? How many other levels have people living on them (or did?) Does everyone live in this tower and skybridge over to the other tower for office work? I have QUESTIONS about pre-geth life in this colony that will never be answered.

Poor Ian Newstead. The strongest of the colonists, but not quite strong enough.

Somehow, I managed to not take video or good screenshots of this terrifying fight. Oh ok we got drones up top, and several charging Krogan and geth in a tunnel with zero cover? Sounds SUPER FUN. Also feels impossible on insanity. It’s not easy to lure things out to the cross-hallway here. I die on this fight a lot, even on normal.

But not this time!!

Hey raise your hand if in the past you’ve forgotten to blow this thing to bits and had to trudge back down here a second time?

I managed to only get halfway down the hall before remembering and turning around this time.

Oh yeah, yeah Fai Dan, everyone here is SUPER NORMAL. Poor Ian, indeed.

But hey, turning in all the tunnels quests is great, feels like you’re making a noticeable difference in these people’s lives and survivability, at least.

Anyway, now that the colony is stable, time to head over to that other building! Just a short, pleasant, easy drive across a skybridge.

HOW. DID. THE.MAKO. GET. HERE?

Is it just like, Exo Geni’s Mako? It can’t be ours! But how would they get a mako!?

Sigh. Let’s not think about it too hard, and enjoy this boring drive across...

DAMNIT.

But hey, those visuals!

Once again, we deal with these geth in our usual way. And I didn’t even drive off the skybridge! So Pro.

Tunnel! OK we have time to stop for a tunnel.

Peekaboo! Time to pick up some sweet easy loot!

Hey, thanks ExoGeni for placing large chunks of debris in the middle of the road. I know it was you because it clearly didn’t fall from anything around here.

Oh no, this asshole.

It feels extra prescient right now that hypercapatalist Ethan Jeong is super willing to sacrifice real people’s lives in order to protect profits, right? Fuck you even more than normal, Jeong. Seriously. I’m now sorta regretting cheating in extra paragon points so you can live later.

I do love Juliana Baynham, though? Of course I always love a good mother/daughter story.

Hey, don’t forget to talk to Gavin... if you want Conrad Verner to live!

But seriously you guys, this level design.

Sorry not sorry for the flycam pic spam. I just really love the skybridge of Feros.

I also really want to know like, what’s down there under the clouds?

Also, great job to the Protheans to have built shit still standing after their reaper invasion +20,000 years! I’ll have to tell Javik in a couple of years.

Okay, that’s it for this update! Next time... we’ll make it to the tower, and probably just have an extra-long finishing up Feros post! Can you believe this post only has twelve of the fifty two Feros gifs I made? So THAT’S coming up!

#mass effect #bioware #tali'zorah #kaidan alenko #video games #gaming #annakie's mass effect stuff

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wilstudies · 5 years

Text

Get a grade 9 in a language GCSE!

Please note:

1. These tips are almost entirely applicable to any AQA language at GCSE. 2. Modern Foreign Languages at GCSE Level is anywhere from A2 to B1 (dependant on the tier and grade) on the CEFR scale, but, there is no official equivalent.

In November 2018, whilst in Year 10, my teacher saw that I was excelling in French, with my extensive knowledge of tenses and idioms. So, she proposed that I’d do the January mocks, alongside Year 11, despite not knowing more than half of the subject content. Then we’d see where I’d go from there.

I followed the AQA exam board, higher paper. Specification. You can find the Kerboodle textbook I used, here.

Here’s what I did:

Throughout the year, I was also studying the Year 10 content (Theme 1 - Identity and culture) in class.

In my own time, each month I’d cover one or two units, completing the more challenging activities on each page of the textbook. Luckily, each unit was only 4 double-page spreads long.

In January I completed my mocks. This was the first time I had ever sat in an exam hall, so it was really daunting to be doing it with a bunch of kids who were older than me, even though I knew I had enough knowledge. Overall, I got a secure grade 8, in my mocks, despite not knowing half of the course content.

I also did “pre-exam mocks”, two weeks before each exam. These consisted of specimen papers which are notoriously harder, so my results looked almost exactly the same as past papers, which was upsetting as I couldn’t see that I’d actually improved. But practice is practice!

MY ACTUAL GCSE RESULT:

With a lot of work. I managed to achieve a grade 9 (the top mark, higher than an A*), which was insane. I’m so, so proud of myself, and grateful for all of the teachers that supported me!!!

^Edit from 25/08/2019.

LISTENING

In my opinion, listening is based purely on practice and knowing the exam technique that works for you.

To practice:

frenchpod101 intermediate listening comprehension

Going through every specimen track and listening activity I could find - pausing it after each sentence, saying it once in French, then translating it into English. I’d do this in the shower, on the way to school, wherever.

Know your vocab!

My exam technique:

In the 5 minutes reading time: underline keywords and themes in the questions. This time goes very quickly, but I’d also try to jot down a few synonyms in the French section too.

Multiple choice questions: the process of elimination; key vocab; negative and positive tonality and opinion words - watch out for negative structures!

Completing the sentences: note down words said in French or translate each sentence into English in your head, then remember it when it comes to writing it down.

French section: fill each sentence with key French words that you hear. Don’t worry about accents, unless it helps you determine the word.

Remember each track plays twice.

READING

The January Mock: I didn’t know much of the course content, so I struggled with the translation. I also circled and placed a question mark near any words I didn’t know, as it was a mock and my teacher would be able to note down any translations for me. I think what boosted my grade, to a 9 for this paper, was knowledge of grammar.

T/F/NM questions are usually a gamble. Just look for explicit information and know your negative formations.

Texts change their minds often: look out for counter-arguments and opposing exclamations

Use the method of elimination for multiple choice: rule out if there’s no mention. Be wary that a text can mention an option, but say it wasn’t that.

Texts often refer to things mentioned prior.

If you know a certain type of texts are your kryptonite (it was the classical stories with dialogue, for me), then download as many of that genre as you can. Understand the way speech and dialogue works, and the structure, before you tackle the vocab.

Many say skim read and don’t read the whole thing, but I found it easier to translate big chunks in my head as I went along and lightly annotate each text, which just comes with practice.

WRITING

Top tip: don’t go any more than 10% over word limits!!!!!!! Teachers say they have to mark all of it - no they don’t. If you do double the word limit, your last few bullet points could come after the cut-off point, cutting off access to half of the marks!!!

90 WORD - 99 words maximum! About 20-25 words per bullet point.

150 WORD - 165 words maximum! About 75 words per bullet point.

Which brings me to mention, that you must cover every bullet point: those are your content marks, which cover about half the marks of each question.

90 WORD Question (16 marks)

Content - 10 marks: Making sure your writing covers each bullet point enough.

Quality of Language - 6 marks: Using interesting vocabulary, such as “malheureusement”.

Stick to about one page.

If you’re giving an opinion, great, just stop there. If you explain it too much, you risk going over your word limit.

150 WORD Question (32 marks)

Content - 15 marks: Every. Bullet. Point. Detailed.

Range of Language - 12 marks: get in those adjectives, idioms and grammatical structures!

Accuracy - 5 marks: correct basic tense conjugations (present, past, future simple/future proche)

In order to hit all of these I came up with a mnemonic checklist, and it scored me full marks in a specimen paper I did for my teacher! And I made it into a cute phone background, so I’d start to remember it, I still can now, hehe! You can find it here. If that doesn’t work, then download it here.

SPEAKING

Know your question words! (x)

For the roleplay and photocard, my teacher printed off me a load of practice cards in bulk and annotated two or three every day, using the planning techniques mentioned below.

Roleplay - 2 minutes; can be any theme.

When planning, try to avoid writing out answers, but just keywords and gaps for you to fill in with pronouns or articles etc.

Keep it brief, one sentence per bullet point, but cover each part of each bullet point.

Photo card - 3 minutes (aim to speak for at least 2).

Plan with a small spider-diagram of nouns, opinions, anecdotes etc. for each known question.

Use one or two prepped anecdotes for the prepared questions - e.g. where you went last year, who with, what you did.

For the unknown questions, keep it short and sweet and fill up any time with opinions and reasoning.

General conversation - 5-7 minutes.

Lie and make up stories! Be creative and use the words and structures you know.

I was a little extra and I prepared every theme as flashcards. You can’t get away with only revising your chosen theme!

I made flashcards that could cover several types of questions: I had bullet points of topics and keywords on one side and a sample paragraph on the other.

Pretty sure I made about 80 flashcards oops.

I also went through the mark scheme and see which areas I could secure marks in and which areas I needed to improve.

VOCAB

Learning vocab is SO important!

I started by making spreadsheets of jumbled word lists from the specification and doing a colour-coded match up.

You can access a pdf of all of the vocab grids here. There might be the odd word missing due to copy-pasting errors, but if so, don’t stress, just look it up in a dictionary and note it down - sorry in advance!!!

Then with the vocab that I had to look up in a dictionary, I added to a Quizlet and wrestled it into my noggin.

You can find the Quizlet here.

Remember that:

sauf - except

puisque - since

presque - almost

GRAMMAR

To me, learning tenses was like learning formulae for maths. So find a way to learn rules like that, if it’s easier for you.

e.g. Conditional Tense = subject + (future/conditional stem + imperfect ending)*

*note that future stems are the same as conditional stems.

Know your DRMRSPVANDERTRAMP verbs, and their past participles. These verbs go with ÊTRE and always agree with the subject.

Know your auxiliary and irregular verbs.

MUST KNOW: avoir, être, aller, faire, vouloir

HELPFUL: devoir, pouvoir, vivre, boire, voir, dire, savoir

OTHERS: mettre, prendre, venir, écrire, lire, recevoir

I learnt these by making flashcards, and then brain dumping them on paper over and over again until they stuck - my teacher thought I was insane, madly scribbling away.

Memorise some key structures that can be used in writing and speaking.

If you want 7+ structures, find them here.

MISC TIPS

Always write notes about improvements and errors in practice papers and mocks.

Find a native french internet friend.

In my opinion, music, movies and TV shows aren’t great for revision. However, if you begin to understand them, they are a great confidence boost.

I highly recommend the Skam France series, which you can find with and without les sous-titres (subtitles) here.

And here’s my french music playlist on Spotify.

MORE ASSISTANCE

I’m happy to offer my assistance to anybody who needs it, pop me a dm or an ask if you think others will find it useful too.

Here’s some ways I could help:

Finding some resources about a certain topic (videos, worksheets, mindmaps) - I have them all backed up hehe

Sending you some of my past answers

Sending you pdf of my general conversation/irregular verb table flashcards

Marking practice answers

Talking to you in french

Etc. etc.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to help any others that might find this useful. If any of the links are faulty, please pop me a dm, and I’ll get them sorted asap!! 🥐

-Wil x

#french #gcse #langblr #studyblr #study #gcses #french language #lovelybluepanda #wilstudies #studies #etudier #francais #emmastudies #a level #b2 #b1 #cefr #masterpost #masterlist #advice #a2

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gltrngold-a · 4 years

Text

— ♥　♡　♥　THE AFFLUENT ♥　♡　♥ —

“A house with a death in it can never again be bought or sold by the living. It can only be borrowed by the ghosts who have stayed behind.”

— i am the pretty thing that lives in the house (2016, dir. oz perkins)

｢ keira knightley. thirty. female. she/her. ｣ welcome to cerulean pier, home of many mythological beings. did you know that our resident CAPRICE DE LUCA is the child of PERSEPHONE? they don’t, maybe that’s why they’re known as the AFFLUENT around town. they are GENTLE & SOLICITOUS, but also SENSITIVE & PLIANT. they are also currently A WRITER. don’t say anything, but they are hiding THAT SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO INHERIT HER GRAND FAMILY FORTUNE. ｢ shannon, 20, she/her, bst. ｣

— ♥　♡　♥　basics ♥　♡　♥ —

name: caprice alessia de luca age: thirty birthdate: 26th september, 1989 — milan, lombardy, italy zodiac ( sun ) sign: libra orientations: bisexual, biromantic relationship status: single label: the affluent occupation: writer

faceclaim: keira knightley height: 5 ft 8 in

— ♥　♡　♥　personality ♥　♡　♥ —

mbti: infp-t enneagram: two, with a one wing hogwarts house: ravenclaw temperament: melancholic theme song: rabbit heart (raise it up) by florence + the machine

hobbies: tending to the gardens at the front of her house; volunteering at the local library; cooking / baking; language-learning; playing the harp

— ♥　♡　♥　favourites ♥　♡　♥ —

songs:

i’d do anything for love (but i won’t do that) by meat loaf come as you are by nirvana a rush of blood to the head by coldplay

television series:

the good place (2016-2020) medici: masters of florence (2016-2019) pride and prejudice (1995)

books:

rebecca (daphne du maurier, 1938) frankenstein (mary shelley, 1818) howards end (e.m. forster, 1910)

films:

i am the pretty thing that lives in the house (2016) rebecca (1940) a streetcar named desire (1951)

— ♥　♡　♥　summary ♥　♡　♥ —

so here’s the hoe-down throwdown about my baby capri:

eclectic. if it can keep her interest she’ll love it.

many bookshelves and annotated copies of books and the first editions that she’s never written in so she has more than one copy of every book and polished desks and half-full notebooks and cups of tea she forgot about and flowers from her garden that just seem to live a little longer than they might otherwise though she can never work out why.

accidentally ethereal and vague sometimes but if you need specifics please ask her she’s trying.

always trying to learn something new! educate urselves! but sometimes she just doesn’t have the patience and that’s okay too ( she gave up on learning woodworking, for one. the splinters weren’t good for her hands. )

so passionate when you get to know her okay.

degrees in pride of place above the fire. silk pyjamas.

quietly intellectual. soft bean. literally the duck with knife meme because she protective but just because she could cut a bitch with her jawline doesn’t mean she’s going to.

spiritually the village wise old woman even though she’s literally thirty. automatically everyone’s mother she has adopted everyone i do not make the rules. you’re hungry? you want tea? you need help? need someone to talk to? go to caprice’s she’ll never snake you out.

if you live in the town she automatically cares about u that’s just how it is she is concerned about everyone always except herself she actually do be kinda self-hating tho my baby :(

she won’t seek you out because she prefers to keep to quiet places but you can find her at her house, in her gardens, or in the library she likes to volunteer at!

you know that house everyone goes past and they’re like, ‘if i had the money i’d live in that house’? she lives in that house. it’s a bit like the tallis house in atonement with the view of jocelyn’s home in broadchurch. really pretty, relic from times past, unmatched view of the sea, everyone wants it. carefully looked-over gardens, a swing-seat where she sits and reads. you get me, it’s just... so pretty.

really sweet accent. like, italian accents are pretty and i’m a lesbian so i’ve gotta say it here you know.

so basically her getting her ( fake ) family’s fortune was one big ol’ mistake. her mother wasn’t of sound mind when she changed the will but someone didn’t check properly so guess she’s got it now. think murdoch media, grovesnor group, that kind of collective; conservative assholes and caprice de luca is not one jot like any of them.

she just wants to write her books and help out as much as she can god bless her she’s such a sweetheart. ( she writes historical fiction and you’ve never met someone more cautious about accuracy. her one exception is medici masters of florence but we’re not having no philippa gregory in this bitch. elizabeth of york didn’t fuck richard iii thank you for your time. )

it was a difficult decision for her not to come clean abt the whole situation because she felt bad about taking advantage, but it meant she could really help people with the insane amount of money she came to have! she doesn’t flaunt it, and if it wasn’t for the last name most people probably wouldn’t even know she had it.

she tried going to law school like her parents but she just couldn’t get into it. she’d rather pay for people’s legal advice rather than do it herself and not be any good at it!

that’s particularly true of the winter though she can never really work out why.

hopeless romantic!1!1! even tho she’s been burned in love before like she’s a daydreaming sweetheart please protect her sweet lil bby

she’s the kind of person you feel spiritually should’ve belonged to the renaissance. just that sense of displacement that lingers around a person, and you wonder, just for a moment, if they’d have been happier. of course, it’s a futile thing to wonder, because we’re born and we die as it happens.

honestly she’s baby but so easily manipulated. like make her feel bad and she’ll bend over backwards to make u feel better... someone please give her a new backbone.

please... be gentle with my child.

— ♥　♡　♥　wanted connections ♥　♡　♥ —

someone she tutors maybe? like she’s a smart little bean.

do your character’s actual fake parents suck? well then you can live at caprice’s house now. i don’t make the rules she does.

someone who’s taking advantage of the sweet but absolutely loaded bean for her money.

people who like her books because tell her you do and she’ll cry out of happiness and it’s the softest thing ever.

people she’s helped out with money for tuition etc. who are now friends with her and go visit to make sure the introverted smol is okay! like give her soft friends please.

ik she’s like the oldest person here right now but. hopefully at some point someone give her a soft partner. she’s a soft bi so anyone works.

a de luca relative who’s salty about the family inheritance??? conservative, entitled, still rich enough, pushy and trying to make her life a misery bc they hate everything she stands for

#gods:intro

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tocxmply · 5 years

Text

FIRST INCARCERATION [sources: click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click]

why was Bucky chosen to become the Winter Soldier? we don’t really have evidence that he was initially chosen specifically, and it is likely that his fate came out of a succession of events — the 107th were no doubt offered to Arnim Zola to be used in human experimentation, to endorse HYDRA’s attempt at synthesizing their own version of the super-serum — and super-soldier. we’re not told exactly how many prisoners underwent experimentation nor what happened to them but, based on the events that happen at the factory in “Captain America: The First Avenger”, it is not far-fetched to assume that only Bucky survived said experimentation — which, obviously, makes him an invaluable specimen for Zola, if he wants his breakthrough to continue. we also see that Zola really isn’t happy with Red Skull’s idea to blow up the building, and how he scampers away to gather as much of his notes and research as he can — it is very possible that he considered Sergeant Barnes lost at this point, but if he managed to save his annotations on the progress so far then, at the very least, he could eventually start anew with some other unfortunate guinea pig.

the encounter by that makeshift bridge between Steve, Bucky, Red Skull, and Zola is also highly significant in its symbolic value — while Steve and Red Skull are engaged in their verbal and physical confrontation, Bucky and Zola are instead focused on one another — on one end, having traumatic recollection of everything this insane doctor has already done to him and, on the other, realizing that Captain America may well be able to save Sergeant Barnes, and it might pay to go looking for him later on. after all, and as mentioned, Bucky was the only one able to 1) survive the impact of a proto-serum in his organism and 2) someone that Zola had already begun tampering with (i will expand on this one idea in the next paragraphs). therefore, i personally interpret this as, whereas Bucky might not have been specifically chosen to be injected with proto-serum (mostly, he was at the wrong place during the wrong time, and ironically surviving the test granted him a fate worse than death), he was most definitely pinpointed by Arnim Zola to be capitalized on — to be retrieved, later on, so that he could continue his experiments where they were stopped and based on the data he already collected.

now, this meta will split into two major points i want to address.

1. CONSEQUENCES OF THIS FIRST INCARCERATION

when Steve finds Bucky in the factory, strapped to that experimentation bench, he’s very clearly not aware of reality — he’s repeating his name + number + rank in a mechanical manner, which can be taken as a sign of having been tortured up until recently, and he’s not even aware that he’s now on his own and that the entire building is about to go up in a blast. with Steve’s help, he snaps out of this daze but promptly shows difficulties to stand up and walk on his own — though, at the same time, he doesn’t need too long to recover from this. this is a clear sign he was already injected with the proto-serum, which allows for this hasty recovery of his physical body (and which, later on, will also explain how he was able to survive the fall from that train).

whereas Bucky seems to be mostly fine at a physical level, however, sporting “only” a few bruises and internal bleeding in his left ear, it is clear that his demeanor hits a turning point at this moment. for example, during the scene where the soldiers are returning to/ entering the military camp, we can see the grievous expression on Bucky’s face, even when Steve smiles at him. a few minutes later, Bucky is the first one raising Captain America and demanding applause and cheer for him, and here, yes, he is smiling — however, if we zoom on him during this scene, we can also see that his smile disappears as soon as Steve isn’t looking anymore.

does this mean that Bucky is now jealous of Steve? is now jealous of the scrawny little sickly boy who, magically, became tall and buff and the new hero of the military and of America in general? i’m gonna go out on a limb (…this is a really bad pun for a Bucky roleplayer, i am v sorry) and say that, yes, yes he is jealous of Steve now. i mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t be, when realizing the wonder that is Captain America? it’s a completely natural and genuine human reaction. however, i also firmly believe that this isn’t a toxic form of envy — as in, because Steve is now better than me, i have to knock him down and ruin it for him. not at all. one, this isn’t the sort of person Bucky has ever been and, two, no way he would have joined the Howling Commands if this was the case. the way i see it, this is more of a “wow everyone loves him now, he doesn’t need me anymore, how can i even compete with this, i will never be this good, probably no one else needs me anymore either”. something that he forces himself to keep hidden, because not only this is war and no one needs to hear his whining but, obviously, Steve is still his beloved best friend. hence, being the first one to cheer on Captain America — even with confusion and insecurity and self-doubt already eating at him from the inside out.

on the other hand, the undeniable fact that Bucky was tortured in that factory AND already used as a guinea pig. again, we don’t know exactly what was done to him, but it is safe to assume he was injected with the proto-serum against his will — and i think it is also safe to assume that, at least once, he’s been forced through a session of electroconvulsive stimulation/ electroshock (ECS). we can clearly see that the bruises on his face form a pattern along his left cheekbone and forehead, which coincides very much with the position that the Soldier, later on, is placed on the ECS chair for mind wiping (additionally, it is plausible that the internal ear bleeding was caused, precisely, by this machine and the strain/pressure it inflicts). were Bucky’s memories already affected/ twisted at this point? likely not, because it isn’t something that you can achieve in such a brief period of time — at this point, likely, Zola was experimenting with both the proto-serum and this preliminar protocol of ECS, and taking notes on the results both things were provoking so far. nonetheless, there is absolutely no doubt that they configured highly traumatic experiences, and it is these symptoms exactly that i will explore next.

after the return to the camp, we see Bucky next at the bar, when Steve is recruiting the Commandos — and, whilst he may look the same for the most part, there is an actual rift between this Bucky and the Bucky who joined the military. first and foremost, he clearly stopped caring for his appearance as much as he used to. initially, we see him all composed and prim in his uniform, with the tie and shirt and the hat and all that. he looks impeccable, not only in looks but in body language; he is confident and carefree and charming. now? we see immediately that he didn’t bother to button up his shirt, didn’t bother with a tie, didn’t bother with a hat and practically didn’t bother combing his hair, didn’t bother to shave — which may not seem a big thing by modern standards, but it was a definite faux-pas for a proper gentleman in the 1940s and let alone for a sergeant. lack of self-care is a hallmark of depression, no matter what year it happens at.

additionally, Bucky’s body language is at the polar opposite end of what it used to be. he still tries to keep his smug facade, yes (for example, he tries to flirt with Peggy), but it’s evident his heart isn’t into it. his mind is somewhere else. he’s doing it, exactly, to keep up the image of everything he used to be. his gaze is mostly vague and not focused on Stave when they talk, he’s slouching both when sitting and when standing up, the tone of voice is monotonous even when he tries to flirt or makes jokes. he also makes comments such as “i’m invisible” or “i’m turning into you, this is a horrible dream” — which can easily be brushed off as joking, should anybody ask, but which are very clearly self-deprecating in their nature. a negative vision of the self and of the self’s worth, which is another hallmark of depression. and let’s not forget that, whilst the Commandos are all banded together and having fun at the other room, Bucky has purposefully secluded himself up until the moment Steve goes to find him — isolation is yet another hallmark. given all these signs, then, i interpret this as Bucky already struggling with depression at this point, caused by 1) Stave’s sudden change that he doesn’t know how to cope with (being genuinely happy for his friend, yes, but now being deprived of a constant in his life), and 2) the violation of human rights and torture he was subjected to at the hand of Zola, that clearly shattered his sense of safety, of agency, and of self-efficacy AND, potentially, began shattering his identity (if Red Skull was injected with serum and became that aberration, is this going to happen to me as well? will i become one of them?).

at the same time, Bucky is quite clearly dealing with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder as well — being a prisoner of war (and war, by itself) is already enough to provoke this, now imagine also being subjected to human experimentation. we see that, from this moment forth, he never again wears a hat and he never again wears a tie nor any other sort of accessory close to his neck — both clear signs that he isn’t comfortable anymore with anything at all tight around his head/ face/ neck — as it likely reminds him too much of Zola’s creepy, wretched machine. on the other hand, we don’t really see what the daily life of the Commandos is like, but i wouldn’t be surprised if Bucky’s self-care continued to decay throughout the missions.

so, at this point, what do we have? we have Bucky struggling with symptoms of depression and of post-traumatic stress disorder and dealing with these via denial + dissociation — because we gotta go get HYDRA and there’s no time to properly address any of this. we have Bucky struggling to find a place for himself in this new world, where Steve doesn’t need his protection anymore and, more, Steve has become America’s idol and has set up standards he himself will never be able to achieve. and, yet, we have Bucky trying his best to keep going forward and to keep supporting his friends and his country. we see him with zero hesitation to join the Commandos, even if the prospect of running into HYDRA (particularly, Arnim Zola) again and to possibly be captured once more, no doubt, terrifies him. as it would terrify any human being in their right mind. but he keeps going.

2. THE CHOSEN ONE

to conclude, this is a really corny title, but it’s how it popped in my mind — because, based on what i have discussed above, i interpret the events at the train as premeditated and not as a coincidence — the Commandos weren’t chasing Zola, Zola was purposefully luring them in by revealing his whereabouts so openly. why? because he wanted to recover his precious experiment and to continue his work. because it was a god-sent that Captain America saved Sergeant Barnes when Zola had already resigned himself to having to start this project from scratch, and he’ll now do whatever it takes to get his hands on him again. for example, we see that Steve and Bucky were purposefully separated in the train, and at no point Bucky was forced to fight an opponent that might seriously risk killing him. and why else would Zola have set up a recording system in the train, if not to keep track of how matters are unfolding? his intention, clearly, was to be rid of/to kill Captain America and, at the same time, to recapture Sergeant Barnes to continue his research. now… of course, the whole Bucky falling off the train was certainly not planned, and by logic it would have ruined Zola’s dream. however, we also see that, later on, when he’s being interrogated, he’s told that he was responsible for the loss of Cap’s dearest friend — and we so clearly see that creepy expression that takes over his face, because he knows what he has done. he knows there is a real chance that the proto-serum might have prevented his guinea pig from dying — and, if he’s lucky enough, HYDRA will find him and keep him safe and sound for him till he can return to the project.

#long post #「ᵐᵉᵗᵃ」ʷᶤᵖᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ

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tocxmply-archive · 5 years

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FIRST INCARCERATION

[sources: click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click]

why was Bucky chosen to become the Winter Soldier? we don’t really have evidence that he was initially chosen specifically, and it is likely that his fate came out of a succession of events --- the prisoners taken by Red Skull were no doubt offered to Arnim Zola to be used in human experimentation, to endorse HYDRA’s attempt at synthesizing their own version of the super-serum --- and super-soldier. we’re not told exactly how many prisoners underwent experimentation nor what happened to them but, based on the events that happen at the factory in “Captain America: The First Avenger”, it is not far-fetched to assume that only Bucky survived said experimentation --- which, obviously, makes him an invaluable specimen for Zola, if he wants his breakthrough to continue. we also see that Zola really isn’t happy with Red Skull’s idea to blow up the building, and how he scampers away to gather as much of his notes and research as he can --- it is very possible that he considered Sergeant Barnes lost at this point, but if he managed to save his annotations on the progress so far then, at the very least, he could eventually start anew with some other unfortunate guinea pig.

the encounter by that makeshift bridge between Steve, Bucky, Red Skull, and Zola is also highly significant in its symbolic value --- while Steve and Red Skull are engaged in their verbal and physical confrontation, Bucky and Zola are instead focused on one another --- on one end, having traumatic recollection of everything this insane doctor has already done to him and, on the other, realizing that Captain America may well be able to save Sergeant Barnes, and it might pay to go looking for him later on. after all, and as mentioned, Bucky was the only one able to 1) survive the impact of a proto-serum in his organism and 2) someone that Zola had already begun tampering with (i will expand on this one idea in the next paragraphs). therefore, i personally interpret this as, whereas Bucky might not have been specifically chosen to be injected with proto-serum (mostly, he was at the wrong place during the wrong time), he was most definitely pinpointed by Arnim Zola to be capitalized on --- to be retrieved, later on, so that he could continue his experiments where they were stopped and based on the data he already collected.

now, this meta will split into two major points i want to address.

1. CONSEQUENCES OF THIS FIRST INCARCERATION

when Steve finds Bucky in the factory, strapped to that experimentation bench, he’s very clearly not aware of reality --- he’s repeating his name + number + rank in a mechanical manner, which can be taken as a sign of having been tortured up until recently, and he’s not even aware that he’s now on his own and that the entire building is about to go up in a blast. with Steve’s help, he snaps out of this daze but promptly shows difficulties to stand up and walk on his own --- though, at the same time, he doesn’t need too long to recover from this. in my interpretation, this is a clear sign he was already injected with the proto-serum, which allows for this hasty recovery of his physical body (and which, later on, will also explain how he was able to survive the fall from that train).

whereas Bucky seems to be mostly fine at a physical level, however, sporting “only” a few bruises and internal bleeding in his left ear, it his clear that his demeanor hits a turning point at this moment. for example, during the scene where the soldiers are returning to/ entering the military camp, we can see the grievous expression on Bucky’s face, even when Steve smiles at him. a few minutes later, Bucky is the first one raising Captain America and demanding applause and cheer for him, and here, yes, he is smiling --- however, if we zoom on him during this scene, we can also see that his smile disappears as soon as Steve isn’t looking anymore.

does this mean that Bucky is now jealous of Steve? is now jealous of the scrawny little sickly boy who, magically, became tall and buff and the new hero of the military and of America in general? i’m gonna go out on a limb (...this is a really bad pun for a Bucky roleplayer, i am v sorry) and say that, yes, yes he is jealous of Steve now. i mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t be, when realizing the wonder that is Captain America? it’s a completely natural and genuine human reaction. however, i also firmly believe that this isn’t a toxic form of envy --- as in, because Steve is now better than me, i have to knock him down and ruin it for him. not at all. one, this isn’t the sort of person Bucky has ever been and, two, no way he would have joined the Howling Commands if this was the case. the way i see it, this is more of a “wow everyone loves him now, he doesn’t need me anymore, how can i even compete with this, i will never be this good, probably no one else needs me anymore either”. something that he forces himself to keep hidden, because not only this is war and no one needs to hear his whining but, obviously, Steve is still his beloved best friend. hence, being the first one to cheer on Captain America --- even with insecurity and self-doubt already eating at him from the inside out.

on the other hand, the undeniable fact that Bucky was tortured in that factory AND already used as a guinea pig. again, we don’t know exactly what was done to him, but it is safe to assume he was injected with the proto-serum against his will --- and i think it is also safe to assume that, at least once, he’s been forced through a session of electroconvulsive stimulation/ electroshock (ECS). we can clearly see that the bruises on his face form a pattern along his left cheekbone and forehead, which coincides very much with the position that the Winter Soldier, later on, is placed on the ECS chair for mind wiping (additionally, it is plausible that the internal ear bleeding was caused, precisely, by this machine and the strain/pressure it inflicts). were Bucky’s memories already affected/ twisted at this point? likely not, because it isn’t something that you can achieve in such a brief period of time --- at this point, likely, Zola was experimenting with both the proto-serum and this preliminar protocol of ECS, and taking notes on the results both things were provoking so far. nonetheless, there is absolutely no doubt that they configured highly traumatic experiences, and it is these symptoms exactly that i will explore next.

after the return to the camp, we see Bucky next at the bar, when Steve is recruiting the Commandos --- and, whilst he may look the same for the most part, there is an actual rift between this Bucky and the Bucky who joined the military. first and foremost, he clearly stopped caring for his appearance as much as he used to. initially, we see him all composed and prim in his uniform, with the tie and shirt and the hat and all that. he looks impeccable, not only in looks but in body language; he is confident and carefree and charming. now? we see immediately that he didn’t bother to button up his shirt, didn’t bother with a tie, didn’t bother with a hat and practically didn’t bother combing his hair, didn’t bother to shave --- which may not seem a big thing by 2019 standards, but it was a definite faux-pas for a proper gentleman in the 1940s and let alone for a sergeant. lack of self-care is a hallmark of depression, no matter what year it happens at.

additionally, Bucky’s body language is at the polar opposite end of what it used to be. he still tries to keep his smug facade, yes (for example, he tries to flirt with Peggy), but it’s evident his heart isn’t into it. his mind is somewhere else. he’s doing it, exactly, to keep up the image of everything he used to be. his gaze is mostly vague and not focused on Stave when they talk, he’s slouching both when sitting and when standing up, the tone of voice is monotonous even when he tries to flirt or makes jokes. he also makes comments such as “i’m invisible” or “i’m turning into you, this is a horrible dream” --- which can easily be brushed off as joking, should anybody ask, but which are very clearly self-deprecating in their nature. a negative vision of the self and of the self’s worth, which is another hallmark of depression. and let’s not forget that, whilst the Commandos are all banded together and having fun at the other room, Bucky has purposefully secluded himself up until the moment Steve goes to find him --- isolation is yet another hallmark. given all these signs, then, i interpret this as Bucky already struggling with depression at this point, caused by 1) Stave’s sudden change that he doesn’t know how to cope with (being genuinely happy for his friend, yes, but now being deprived of a constant in his life), and 2) the violation of human rights and torture he was subjected to at the hand of Zola, that clearly shattered his sense of safety, of agency, and of self-efficacy AND, potentially, began shattering his identity (if Red Skull was injected with serum and became that aberration, is this going to happen to me as well? will i become one of them?).

at the same time, Bucky is quite clearly dealing with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder as well --- being a prisoner of war (and war, by itself) is already enough to provoke this, now imagine also being subjected to human experimentation. we see that, from this moment forth, he never again wears a hat and he never again wears a tie nor any other sort of accessory close to his neck --- in my interpretation, both clear signs that he isn’t comfortable anymore with anything at all tight around his head/ face/ neck --- as it reminds him too much of Zola’s creepy, wretched apparatus. on the other hand, we don’t really see what the daily life of the Commandos is like, but i wouldn’t be surprised if Bucky’s self-care continues to decay throughout the missions.

so, at this point, what do we have? we have Bucky struggling with symptoms of depression and of post-traumatic stress disorder and dealing with these via denial + dissociation --- because we gotta go get HYDRA and there’s no time to properly address any of this. we have Bucky struggling to find a place for himself in this new world, where Steve doesn’t need his protection anymore and, more, Steve has become America’s idol and has set up standards he himself will never be able to achieve. and, yet, we have Bucky trying his best to keep going forward and to keep supporting his friends and his country. we see him with zero hesitation to join the Commandos, even if the prospect of running into HYDRA (particularly, Arnim Zola) again and to possibly be captured once more, no doubt, terrifies him. as it would terrify any human being in their right mind. but he keeps going.

2. THE CHOSEN ONE

to conclude, this is a really corny title, but it’s how it popped in my mind --- because, based on what i have discussed above, i interpret the events at the train as premeditated and not as a coincidence --- the Commandos weren’t chasing Zola, Zola was purposefully luring them in by revealing his whereabouts so openly. why? because he wanted to recover his precious experiment and to continue his work. because it was a god-sent that Captain America saved Sergeant Barnes when Zola had already resigned himself to having to start this project from scratch, and he’ll now do whatever it takes to get his hands on him again. for example, we see that Steve and Bucky were purposefully separated in the train, and at no point Bucky was forced to fight an opponent that might seriously risk killing him. and why else would Zola have set up a recording system in the train, if not to keep track of how matters are unfolding? his intention, clearly, was to be rid of/to kill Captain America and, at the same time, to recapture Sergeant Barnes to continue his research. now... of course, the whole Bucky falling off the train was certainly not planned, and by logic it would have ruined Zola’s dream. however, we also see that, later on, when he’s being interrogated, he’s told that he was responsible for the loss of Cap’s dearest friend --- and we so clearly see that creepy expression that takes over his face, because he knows what he has done. he knows there is a real chance that the proto-serum might have prevented his guinea pig from dying --- and, if he’s lucky enough, HYDRA will find him and keep him safe and sound for him till he can return to the project.

#long post #「ᵐᵉᵗᵃ」ʷᶤᵖᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ

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irrlicht-ghostfront · 5 years

Text

yellow

It can’t be all dark if there’s a light, right? So it’s all you paint nowadays. If you keep trying, maybe the light would just come back.

_____________________________________________________

It’s fifteen.

It’s always fifteen that you can see. They’re there even when you close your eyes. You wonder what’s behind them. You wonder what’s inside them. There would be people living inside, you think. There may even be a few that look over here right now, and they condemn you all to insanity.

Well, they wouldn’t be wrong, you think. And yet, the people here don’t like that word. It has too many bad annotations, they say. Maybe they’re right. It doesn’t really change anything, though. You never thought of yourself that way, and here you are still. Maybe you shouldn’t leave. But you would. In less than a month, you would leave. Maybe they think they fixed you. You don’t feel different, but it was nice seeing them happy.

“Yeah, I think you should stay.” You don’t react. They don’t know about Dream-Dean, and you believe it’s best if it stays that way. He’s not really a dream anymore. He got mean; and he got too real. But it’s still a Dean all of your own, so you’re not giving him up. You can’t see Dean again. After what you did to him, it’s a miracle he ever came to visit. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since last he came here. Perhaps he’s busy. Perhaps he finally realised what a waste of time you are. You lied to the people here; telling them you had a place to go to. But you can’t go back to Dean. You can’t do that to him; but you can’t go to anyone else either. They’re not your friends, and why would they want to take you in? By now, they all must know what you did to Dean.

You wish you could open the window.

“Castiel? Lunch’s about to be served”, a voice interrupts your thoughts and you stand up. The food here’s nice, although you never really cared about that. However, Dream-Dean commented on it, and you simply took his opinion. The other people here rarely talk to each other; the newer they are, the lesser they’ll talk at all. Some play games together, in their free time, and some others watch, but it’s all rather timid.

You grab a serving – broccoli soup, today – and find a chair. “Stupid hair, just look at it, it looks so stupid, why do you even try”, you hear as you take your first spoon-full. You look up and see Bell sitting a little ways away from you, muttering to herself. “And did you see these claws you call hands? Better chop them off, be rid of ‘em.” You’re not sure what Bell is suffering from – you never asked and don’t really care either way – but she’d mutter these things all the time. You think it might be similar to Dream-Dean, but you wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t say untrue things. “I think your hair looks pretty nice today”, you tell Bell just loud enough. “And I could hold your hand, if you want.” Bell looks up and you think she should shave her beard. It would probably help her self-esteem a bit. But then again, you know she’s got some nasty things to say about her chin. “Castiel”, her deep voice is a bit louder now. “You really think my hair is nice?” You smile at her and slide down, so you sit opposite of her. “Yes”, you say and pat it gently. “You’re taking good care of it, Bell. It’s always so soft, no matter what.” She blushes at bit at that and looks down. She’s fondling her nails. “What about my hands? They’re so big. I’ve seen the girls in the magazines, and how delicate they are and –“she starts to fuss a bit. “You are a perfect human being, Bell.” You take one of her hands and make her cup your cheek. “Look how perfect they fit. How could you call something horrendous if it cups my face so perfectly?” She does look. You done this a dozen of times, but every time it feels like the first time. You don’t know if you make her situation worse or better, but nobody told you to stop yet. You didn’t ask. You can’t be told no if you never ask, after all.

She caresses your face a bit, staring at her hands. “I’m perfect”, she whispers. “Yes”, you say and she starts to cry. She doesn’t let go of your face and you don’t think they’re sad tears. She looks at your eyes, looking for something, you think. You don’t know what, and you don’t know if she ever finds it. “My ex-wife was here the other day”, she whispers. You tilt your head in question. You’re not sure why she tells you. You’re not friends, after all. You’re just being nice – why wouldn’t someone say nice things to her? “She called me disgusting again.” She’s still fondling your face. You don’t care. You think that it calms her a little, so you won’t make her stop. “I think she comes here with the sole purpose of making me miserable every time I feel a bit better, so that I never leave.” Bell’s crying now. It’s sad this time. “I want to see her; and I want her to accept me. But I don’t know how to do that.” You frown. You’re not sure why she tells you this. There are doctors here who could tell her what to do. What do you know? You think of 13-year-old Sophie, who was told to let her feelings go. Maybe Bell should do it too. “Let her go”, you say and Bell looks at you, utterly shocked. “She won’t take you for you, Bell. She hurts you; and you shouldn’t be hurting. The only one who needs to accept you is you, right? But if you make it about her, you’ll never get there. You’re perfect, Bell, and I can’t tell you more than that. If something hurts you, you have to let it go.” Oh, if you could follow your own advice. Dream-Dean cackles behind you. He knows what’s up, but you stopped caring. This hollow ache will forever remain in your chest and you came to accept it.

“How?” she whispers and you shake your head. “I don’t know. You don’t need her anymore. I need you to remember that you’re a beautiful, bright star in the sky. You shine so brilliantly, and I won’t allow you to go out. I love you, Bell, and you need to tell you ex-wife no. I know you can. The nurses will get you your best outfit and you’ll go meet her as the beautiful woman that you are. Courage comes from trying, after all.” She simply stares at you. Your soup’s gone cold by now, you think, but it’s not that bad. Her hands slide from your face and she stares at them. You get up and leave. You don’t know if you helped or made it worse, but spoken words can’t be taken back. You have art therapy now. It’s not your favourite.

At the beginning, they told you to paint whatever you wanted. You should paint whatever you felt. You watched the others for inspiration, and when they were new, they would draw angry things. They were angry, and confused, and sad. They didn’t give you any inspiration, so that was fruitless. Not wanting to disappoint the teacher, you did paint something. You weren’t sure what it was supposed to be, and you hoped you’d never have to explain it to someone.

Oh, how lucky you were.

In your next therapy session, there it sat, in all its sad glory. The doctor was looking at it and you weren’t sure if this had been a test. Did you fail? You’ve always been average at tests. He smiled at you and asked if it was a ball, perhaps. You didn’t know, but you knew; if it wasn’t, he’d try to coax an answer out of you – an answer you simply didn’t have. So you lied and said yes. You said it was a ball you used to play with when you were a child. You quite liked the ball, you said – it was your favourite, after all – and luckily, the others didn’t care about it, because it was all grey. You don’t why the colour would make them like it less – while playing, the ball would get dirty anyway. But as things stood, the ball was only for you and you liked playing with it. One day, it rolled onto the street, though and a truck ran it over. Thus, the ball was utterly flattened, and you have been forced to throw it away. You’ve been quite sad about it at the time, but in the end, it was simply a ball.

The doctor nodded and then proceeded to ask you about your feelings towards that situation. At the end of the session, you got quite attached to the story of a ball, even if it had never been real.

It took you three sessions to realise it wasn’t a ball. In the next art therapies, you painted the same thing, thinking of it as a ball, only to realise the truth in that little office.

It had never been a ball, even if the story felt so real.

It was simply a pebble.

So here you sit, drawing the ball-pebble again. You haven’t told anyone it’s a pebble. You don’t really want to explain your feelings towards such a tiny, useless piece of rock. You wonder what made you paint it the first time. You remember thinking a round shape would probably the easiest, so you did that. And besides, it was a nice, repeating motion.

“Hey, Castiel”, says a voice behind you. You turn around and there sits Jonathan, clearly posed to whisper. “Can I have your black?” You don’t want to give it to him. Jonathan paints nothing but black canvases, over and over again. You know why he’s here – all the scars are hard to overlook. You wonder how many more he has, in places you can’t see. You wonder how many of them are inside. You sigh and hand over your tube of black. He takes it quickly and retreats. One time, he wasn’t given an extra tube of black and he threw a tantrum. He’s been gone for two weeks, and you thought maybe he got fixed up, but he still only paints black. You wish he would ask for green, or blue, or orange. You think it’d be nice if his life was more colourful. But you don’t know what to do. It’s not like you could ruin his painting. You don’t want him taken away again. Jonathan is nice, and his smiles are rare, but they are very beautiful. You’d wish he’d smile more. He rarely gets visitors, you know that; and if someone comes at all, it’s his daughter. They love each other, but they have forgotten how to interact with each other. Jonathan confessed to you he couldn’t look at Susie anymore. You saw her once, just as she was leaving. Her hair was a bright orange, and her dress was a lovely yellow.

You tried to paint Susie, very abstract, but it came out looking like a monster and you decided to not show it to Jonathan – or, for that matter, you decided not to show it to anyone. “I don’t have to see anything when I close my eyes”, he said to you. “I thought about it – butchering my eyes, but I’m afraid. I wouldn’t be able to see Susie anymore. But I still think it’d be better if it was all dark forever, you know? She probably hates me anyway. I’m such a shitty dad.” She loves you, you want to say, and you love her. But you don’t say it, because you think he knows already. He just doesn’t want it to be true. You wonder why.

You stare at your canvas. There sits your pebble, but this time you want to scrap it. So you do. You get your yellow and your orange and you paint. Maybe that’s all he needs. Just a little light and the darkness would be no more. The doctor asks you later, because it’s not your ball-pebble. “It’s not for me”, you say and he waits for you to continue. “It’s for Jonathan. It can’t all be dark, if there’s a light, right?” You ask the doctor to give it to Jonathan. You don’t know if he does. But from this day forwards, it’s all you paint. As tiny as it might be, it could be enough. And maybe he would look at Susie again and see the light in her.

You have free time the next day. You find it rather boring, to be honest. Most people here spend this time playing games or looking out the window. If you got privileges, some even went outside to the gardens. You used to do that until recently, wasting time away staring at flowers. The bees were pretty fuzzy and you wished you could give them a hug. They got such a tiny pair of wings and still they were defying gravity. You wonder if you get something out of that. You’re sure someone already got some motivation speech out of that.

Five weeks ago, there had been someone new. It was a girl, and she was very thin, and still so young. You thought she couldn’t be older than sixteen. She looked miserable, even for the standard of here. The girl had been withdrawn in herself and she was looking in direction of the window. She was not looking outside. You wondered what she saw. There was a chair opposite of her. You could take it, or leave her alone. You wonder what Dean would do. Dream-Dean was quiet, but Dean would probably sit down and try to talk to her. He could do that, he was so charismatic. You however? You were as charismatic as a rotten carrot. Still, you could try. So you sat down in front of her, but she didn’t react. That time, you just sat there, looking outside the window. When you left, you’re not sure if she ever noticed your presence.

Now, you brought board games. She wouldn’t play with you, but you think she saw you. That’s okay. You can play with yourself. If you’re playing Sorry against yourself, you could only win, after all. Three weeks you continued this spiel, and you did miss the bees a bit, but you didn’t want to give up. “Why are you here?” she asks in a weak voice, and she sounds so unsure. “I tried to hang myself with a rope”, you say casually and ponder over your next move. You don’t look at her; you’re not sure if she could take that. “No”, she says. “I mean, here, right now.” You frown. Your moves backed you into a corner. “I’m playing a game.” She sighs, and she sounds frustrated. “Why don’t you go outside? I know you can.” You look at her then. “But you’re not outside.” Her eyes are sunken in, and they’re brown and they look so frightened. She quickly turns away. You wonder if she is scared of you. You say no more to her and keep playing. You’re losing against yourself. What a stupid game.

“What’s your name?” she asks in barely a whisper. “Castiel”, you answer and this day, you talk no more. It still feels like a mountain climbed.

She grabs the box of your game one day. “Do you know the rules?” she asks and you say no. You look at the board, and you know she’s looking at you. It feels like she’s waiting for something, but whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to come. “I’m Leah”, she says and you look up and smile at her. “Hello, Leah. It’s lovely to meet you.” She doesn’t look away. You think, maybe, she looks a little bit less afraid than before. “Can I play?” she asks and you nod. You don’t bother with the rules and you think you almost hear her laugh. Small steps climb the mountain, and you’re ready to crawl.

You know she wants to tell you. She wants to tell you why she’s here. And you also know that she’s afraid of telling you. She might think it would change your opinion about her. It won’t, but she doesn’t know. She’s fidgeting in her seat and you’re afraid she’s going to slide off. “Why don’t you ever ask me questions?” You know that’s not what she wanted to say, but it’s okay that she got cold feet. “I just asked you if you wanted red or yellow.” She groans and rolls her eyes a bit. It’s nice to see that she’s still a bit like a teenager. “No, I meant, about why I’m here or what happened or some shit like that. Don’t you care?” You look at her. “You’re here because you are. If you want me to know, then you have to tell me. I know that because you’re here, whatever it is that brought you here is over now. I don’t know what else I’d have to know.” She stares at you and then advert her eyes. You make your next move and you win the round. Oh, that’s nice. You usually lose. “I lost it”, she starts to sob and you know she isn’t talking about the game. You pack up anyway. “It was my only reason of living, and I lost it, and...” She loses herself in sobs. You don’t know why she tells you. You’re just being nice; like a decent human being, and you’re not friends. You wonder if she told her doctor. “I think”, you say and you can hear her trying to quieting her sobs to hear you better. “I think your reason for living is yourself.” She wails and jumps up. It’s the first time you see her standing. She jumps you and grabs your shirt to shake you. “You don’t understand!” She shouts and you know nurses are coming. “You just don’t understand...” She’s quieter now and she sinks onto your chest, crying like a child. You put your arms around her awkwardly and don’t know why she needed you to know. It’s almost like it’s important to her. You wonder why.

Surprisingly, you receive a visitor. Dean hasn’t been by in quite a while, so you wonder. Maybe he’s come back? Still, you follow the nurse to the visitation room. It’s Sam who you spot there. He’s never visited you, and he looks a tad bit uncomfortable. You think you can understand that. It’s not exactly a nice location that you’re in. When he sees you, he stands up awkwardly and starts reaching out his hand, stops midway – clearly wondering if he’s allowed to touch you – and moves to hug you, before he stops that too, instead rubbing his neck nervously. You tilt your head and sit down, waiting for Sam to follow. He’s fidgeting in his seat, and you wonder why he came. You hope everything is alright with Dean.

“Is Dean okay?” You ask and Sam jumps a bit, clearly not expecting to be spoken to. “What? Err, yes, he’s fine, don’t worry. I, uh, I came, because, uh... you – you’re gonna be out soon, right?” You furrow your eyebrows. “Yes”, you answer, but you’re unsure what Sam wants. “That’s, that’s good! That means you feel better, right? Right. That’s good, yeah.” He’s looking everywhere but you. You want to be happy that he came at all – “You would have preferred me, though” – but you’d wish he’d say what he wants to say. “Sam”, you say. “Why did you come?” Sam stops his fidgeting. He still doesn’t look at you. “I, I just... Cass, you can’t come back and stay with Dean.” He looks at his hands. You knew that, of course. After what you put poor Dean through, how could you expect to go back to him? Still, hearing it made the pit in your stomach worse. Maybe that’s why he didn’t come anymore? Maybe just seeing you made his life worse? How selfish of you. Every time, you have eagerly awaited his visit and coaxed the next one out of him before he would leave without ever thinking about how it might make him feel. He must be traumatised by what he saw, by what you made him see. Maybe he even felt responsible? Oh, why did you never consider that? Good, kind, perfect Dean and you just had to come along and destroy him. Oh, just how could you?

Sam looks at you now. “You do understand that, right?” You have the strangest feeling Sam might’ve been talking. Oh, how selfish of you, having a mental breakdown while someone important was talking. How could you? You couldn’t ask him to repeat himself. “Yes, of course”, you reply and something akin to a smile flies over Sam’s face. Oh. Your answer made him happy. Still, you couldn’t smile back. You simply nodded and got up. As far as you were concerned, you were done. You should’ve enjoyed Dean’s friends more. None of them ever came to visit. You think they must hate you for what you did to Dean. “Farewell, Sam”, you say as a good-bye and leave the room. For everyone concerned, it was a nice visit. Only Dream-Dean knew the truth, and he wouldn’t let you forget. “Just think of what you did to me.” He turned around and left. Maybe he went to see his girlfriend.

You get released a day early – they’re very sorry, but they need your room – and they ask if they should call someone for you. You decline politely; take your things and leave. You don’t say good-bye to Bell, or Jonathan, or Leah. You’re not friends, after all.

You walk until the hospital is out of sight. You stop then. What are you going to do now? You have no job, no money, no home and no friends. And even if you would go back to your family, they live three states over – and you don’t have money for the bus fare. So you turn towards the park. Maybe there will be flowers, and with them, bees.

There are flowers and there are also bees. They’re both very pretty. You lose yourself watching them, having missed them for so long. You don’t regret your time with Leah, but you’re happy with the bees. Still, you have to think about what to do next. You could always resort back to your previous line of work, but since this kind of got you into this mess, you’re not too keen to repeat it. Maybe there will be new job offers around town. Yes. You’re going to check tomorrow.

There is a job offer. It’s at the Gas’n’Sip, and the manager takes you almost without blinking after you tell her you can operate a cash register. It feels odd, being taken so quickly after your last job-hunting disaster. You can start the next day and you look forward to it. She shows you the store and there is a back room. She asks if you would be okay taking the dead-shifts at the morning and the evening and you say yes. She almost kisses you right then and there. You wonder if these strong emotions are normal.

Working here is nice. People don’t know who you are and they don’t care either as long as you get their pump right. You declared the slush machine your enemy and that almost feels like it’s a normal thing. Maybe it is. You never declared something your enemy before. It almost feels playful. It’s odd, and you like it.

You miss Dean, of course. But you can’t dwell on that. You’ve hurt him terribly, and he will live a happier life if he doesn’t have to deal with you ever again. Your manager is shocked to hear you don’t have a phone, and the very next day, she presents one to you. It’s an old and used one, but she says it works and it’s a gift for you. You don’t remember getting gifts before. You thank her and when she smiles, you smile back.

Of course, you have no friends, so there are no numbers saved into this phone other than the store and your manager. But you think of all the possibilities. If ever you would get friends, you could save their number in here and they would only ever be a call away. You could put Dean’s number in. You remember it by heart, but he’s not your friend anymore and you can’t put in his number without his permission. You fantasise about it, though and it’s quite nice thinking about it. You can almost see yourself: you sit in the backroom of the store, in your brand-new sleeping bag and talk to Dean on the phone, rekindling your relationship. He would forgive you for what you did and you would do everything to make it up to him. It feels so real, you can almost hear his voice.

What you do hear, is the honk of something. You look to your side and there is a truck in front of you. It seems so close, you think. It comes closer still, shouldn’t it stop? You stare up at it, mesmerized. It’s a yellow truck. Jonathan would hate it.

There is something, and then there isn’t. Above you is simply the blue sky with two clouds overhead. It almost looks like they’re hugging. It’s a sound you hear. Maybe something even hurts. All you see are the two clouds.

Your phone lies on the ground, shattered into pieces.

#supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #Destiel #fanfic #Sam Winchester

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askthedespairkids · 6 years

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Chapter 1: Your First Lesson in Despair ~Daily Life~

//Woo! Finished this off and it’s ready to upload. The way this is formatted, I’ll show important moments from the daily life sections, then do highlights of the investigation. Trials will be full out, and at the end there will be FTE with the victim and killer of each chapter!

//Hope ya’ll enjoy

-Chapter 1 Daily Life, Cafeteria-

We had all gathered when we woke up. Well…most of us. 14 out of the 16 in the group arrived at the cafeteria. You could really feel the tension among the group with what we were told yesterday…a killing game? What does it all even mean? It can’t be real, can it?

“This isn’t ideal.” Watanabe-san started off as she scanned the room where we were scattered to different tables. “Who is missing? I want to keep a record of who isn’t coming to these meetings.”

“You call them meetings…but it’s more or less a way to keep track of each other.” Kurosaki-san chuckled. “I believe only Mademoiselle Ram and Herr Okanaya are the only ones missing.” Okanaya-san and Ram-san…?

“I tried to get Ram-chan to come out of her room, but she wouldn’t open her door.” Hachi-san said.

“I don’t blame her. With the situation we’re in, it probably pays to be a little cautious.” Sly-san added. So…why are you here? Then again, if Sly-san’s the Ultimate Assassin, he probably has no reason to be worried.

“Oka-chan, on the other hand? I saw him walking about but he totally threatened me when I tried to get closer to him. Ahhhh! I was really scared! I thought he was gonna hit me! We’re better off not being around him!” Irunami-san said. Okanaya-san was walking around? Most likely looking for a way out. If he knows the building’s layout, he’d know where to check for exists. I just wish he’d try to be more cooperative.

“Unfortunately, we cannot force him to come. Though, I hope that both of them come around eventually. We need to work together in this situation in order to prevent any incidents from happening.” Watanabe-san said. ‘Incidents’ she says…she means so that nobody dies, right? Are we really gonna die in here? “For now, should we discuss the situation and our setting?”

“Ah, if we’re discussing the setting them let me take the lead!” Without warning, Hachi-san clapped their hands together and produced a map resembling the floor plan on the E-handbook we received from Monokuma. “All right, who wants to annotate the map~? Hokama-chan! You do it!”

“No, don’t ask me. I never learned how to write.” Amaterasu-san held up a hand to decline. “And call me Amaterasu.” She quickly added.

“I’ll do it.” Shinko-san offered, grabbing the pen from Hachi-san. “Okay…obviously where we are right now is the cafeteria and the kitchen. This line of rooms is the dorms. How about this room?” He tapped on the room directly across from the cafeteria.

We all ended up huddled around the map as Graves-san quickly stuck her hand up. “Oh! That’s a bathhouse! I tried it out yesterday and the water is super nice! I jumped straight in and didn’t want to leave!”

“E-eh?! You didn’t even wash yourself beforehand?!” Kurohiko-san said.

“A…are you supposed to?” Graves-san rubbed the back of her neck. I guess she doesn’t know how it all works in Japan…she’s definitely cleaning it first.

“A bathhouse.” Shinko nodded and noted it then pointed to a room behind the cafeteria that was down another hallway. “And here?”

“That’s a storage room. In addition to the food in the kitchen, that room is filled with snack foods, sodas, and other miscellaneous items like extra clothing. It could prove useful if we have to start rationing.” Sly-san explained.

“Ah, but…our drawers in our dorm rooms are already filled with clothes, and when I went to get breakfast, Monokuma told me he’s gonna restock the food daily. So, I don’t think we’re gonna have to worry about rationing.” Kibe-san added.

“How thoughtful, despite such a game, he doesn’t want you all to starve to death. How oddly generous.” Ishikawa-san smiled.

“Just…make sure to eat with us, Ishikawa-san.” Kurohiko-san said. The thanatologist nodded though I wonder if she actually believed she needs to eat?

“I know personally that this room is a boiler room. It’s got a giant furnace and a trash chute. Monokuma told me that each week, we have to assign someone new to take care of the furnace. He gave me the first week, so I guess we can cross that bridge when we get to it.” Shinko-san marked the boiler room down.

“Take care of the furnace, what does that mean?” I asked.

“Things that can’t fit in the chute are supposed to be burned in the furnace. He also mentioned how we could ball some evidence up and throw it in there. Seriously…I’m getting sick of hearing about that.”

“Meanwhile in the building that the hallway connects us to…” Yokozawa-san pointed to the rooms on the map. “That’s the front entrance there, but it’s totally blocked off by all that machinery. Electronic locks, normal locks, this that and the next thing. Totally unbreakable.”

“Unbreakable…we’re really trapped then…” Kibe-san seemed to pale.

“That was already obvious from the start though. Don’t worry too much about it.” Sly-san looked over the room we hadn’t filled in yet. Even for an assassin, should he be so calm? It’s almost unnerving… “That’s an infirmary. It has two beds, some medication, and blood packs that are kept in a mini-fridge.”

“An infirmary in a killing game? Really, even if it’s a school setting…” Kurosaki-san crossed his arms and sighed.

“We obviously have the gymnasium. This room over here is like a school store. Monokuma said we can get all sorts of stuff from there. I went there last night to see if I could find something to break us out of here, but no luck.” Kurohiko-san said.

“And this last room is an AV room. There’re rows upon rows of computers room. A projector, and a big screen. Maybe we could watch a movie in there or something.” Hachi-san suggested. “Though…we don’t have any internet.”

Shinko-san finished off the map. “Alright…that’s everything. Now what are we supposed to do?”

“I’m not entirely sure…” Watanabe-san admitted. “For now, maybe we should split up for the day…that seems like the most sensible choice.” We got a better understanding of our surroundings, but that alone…but what am I supposed to do? Maybe I should find a way to spend my time?

-Chapter 1 Daily life Bonus Event: Pretty Pretty Cakes-

“Ahh…” Irunami-san whined. “Naga-chaaaaan!! I can’t handle it! I’m bored! So bored! I need something to do with my time or I’ll go totally insane!” He wants me to do something about his boredom…?

“U-um…what kind of things did you do before to pass the time?”

“Hmm…I really liked to bake at the homeless shelter. They said my brownies were really good! Ah, maybe I should bake…! But I’d need some good utensils. The stuff they have in the kitchen is no good for the way I do it.” Irunami-san pouted and kicked the floor. Ah, come to think of it…

“I have a baking set I got from the school store. Would that do?” As I told him, his eyes lit up like Christmas decorations.

“Naga-chan, you’re the best! Alright, alright! If you bring the utensils and stuff to the kitchen later then I’ll be ready to get my bake on!” Irunami-san stood on his tiptoes and patted my head before skipping away. All I have to do is bring them to the kitchen. Seems easy enough.

----

I arrived in the kitchen later with what Irunami-san asked me to bring. When I arrived I found a small crowd in the kitchen. Watanabe-san, Kurosaki-san, Kibe-san, Graves-san, Asano-san, and naturally Irunami-san were all crowded around the centre table.

“I…Irunami-san, what’s going on?”

“I figured that if we were gonna do some baking, I should invite some other people to join in! The more people we have, the better!” His face was beaming with pride at the turnout. I looked around at the eager faces.

“C’mon, I wanna bake already!” Graves-san whined, waving her arms about. “I haven’t had brownies in forever so if these are as good as Sadao says they are, then I wanna eat then right now!”

“We have the ingredients already so should we just jump right into it? Before Fraulein Graves has a fit, I mean.”

“Kurosaki-san, you came along as well?” I questioned.

“Ah, is it that surprising? How could I turn down an offer from such a cute boy, y’know? It was impossible to pass up this opportunity.” He explained. Geez…he’s just here to flirt, isn’t he?

“What an annoyance you are. I can’t stand those who try to force a harem.” Watanabe-san almost spat. S-seriously, what kind of personality does she have?! I can’t pinpoint her at all. “No matter. Shall we start?”

“Okayyyy~!” Irunami-san chirped.

The baking session went…as expected with people like these.

“Ahhh!!! Kurosaki-kun stole my sugar!” Kibe-san complained.

“I did not! Mademoiselle, keep her off of me before she tears me for something I didn’t do!!” Kurosaki-san clung to Watanabe-san’s shoulder as Kibe-san began beating at him with a chocolate-covered whisk. “At least clean it if you’re to hit me!”

“I’ll hit you in a second if you don’t let go.” Watanabe-san said in a low voice, glaring at the two. Both quietened down instantly and went back to their stations. I looked over at Asano-san who was methodically creating her batch, much further along in the process than anyone else.

“It is odd. I never knew that this was how people my age spent their time together. I did so much home economics that it didn’t even occur to me it could be used for socialising.” What a sheltered girl. I can’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Nagata-san, make sure you aren’t using too much flour.” Watanabe-san brought me back to what I was doing, I looked down at my own bowl realising I had been building up quite the pile of flour on the sieve.

“A-ah!” The problem with flour in a sieve is that no matter how you move, you’re getting flour everywhere. Irunami-san pouted at me from across the counter.

“Geez, Naga-chan, you’ll never make a good stay-at-home-husband with baking skills like that.” Why am I already having my life predicted by you? “Looks like it’s up to the great Sadao Irunami to show you how it’s really done!”

Irunami-san abandoned his own work to help me with mine, step-by-step. And eventually…we had several plates full of brownies, Irunami-san put name cards in front of the plates so we’d know which plate belonged to which person.

“Yahooo! We did it! They all look so good!” Irunami-san bounced around the kitchen, hugging everyone individually. “Ah…I don’t even know which one to try first…”

“Huh? What’s going on in here?” We all looked over to the kitchen entrance to find Shinko-san standing there with curiosity written on his face. “It’s sickeningly sweet in here. Was there a sugar blast or something?”

“We all baked brownies! Shin-chan, you should try some and tell us what you think!” Irunami held out a plate to Shinko-san. The director stepped back and frowned, pushing the plate away from his face.

“I would rather not poison my body with such amateur works.” He looked away.

“Ah, that’s a shame. Even though we all went through so much effort…” Watanabe-san sighed. Shinko-san peered out of the corner of his eyes, his face instantly flushing to a bright red. He swiped the top brownie from the plate.

“F-fine, if you’re going to get on my ass about it, then I’ll eat one! Fuck!” He grumbled a few more curses before taking a bite. There was a small silence before Shinko-san’s expression became that of a violent sneer. “Disgusting. Which one of you pigs decided that was okay to give to someone like me?”

“Ah, Herr Shinko, you’re too mean to me! I’ll cry if you insult my baking skills like that!” Kurosaki-san put a hand up to his face and wiped away a non-existent tear.

“Get better then, dipshit.” Shinko-san growled before leaving. Gagging slightly as he left.

“I suppose now is a bad time to mention I’m not a great chef?” Kurosaki-san chuckled a little as Irunami-san subtly threw away his plate of brownies.

-Chapter 1 Daily Life, Motive-

After hearing Monokuma’s announcement, the group all gathered inside the gymnasium. I couldn’t ignore how many nervous expressions were painting the room, my own included. Though what really got my attention were those two…

“Ram-san and Okanaya-san? You’re here too?” I asked. Okanaya-san seemed to growl before he answered me.

“What the fuck did you expect? That bastard bear told us we all have to be here. With the situation we’re in, it’d be stupid to ignore him.” He crossed his arms and glared at me, clearly angered as if I had taken him for an idiot or something. Ram-san stayed silent, avoiding any eye-contact with the others. She really didn’t want to leave her room, obviously.

“H-hey…does anyone else have a bad feeling about all this? I really don’t wanna be here right now.” Kurohiko-san fidgeted with the top button of his shirt.

“Cool it, Doi-chan. If you keep up that attitude, I’m gonna get annoyed.” Amaterasu-san yawned obnoxiously as she spoke. “I wanna go back to my nap, so can we get this over with…?”

“D…Doi-chan…?” Kurohiko-san repeated as he began mumbling an incoherent monologue to himself. That guy has some issues he needs to work through.

“Mmmm…I wonder…Ha-chan! Maybe we can work together and totally destroy Monokuma-sensei!” Irunami-san poked Hachi-san’s shoulder. The illusionist seemed to twitch slightly at the contact. “A hypnotist and an illusionist could be unstoppable together, don’t’cha think?!”

“The problem is that my magic is exactly that: illusions. It’s not like I could ever properly hold off Monokuma…” Hachi-san replied sadly. “Is it possible to hypnotise a robot anyway?”

“Ah…you’re right. Ahhhh! And I thought I came up with a cool idea too!” Even though we’ve not been here a long time, I can see the small relationships between the group growing. Some people just seemed to gel well together instantly, almost as if they’ve known each other for a long time.

…am I…alone?

“Upupupupu! Sorry to keep you all waiting!” We all stopped and turned to the stage where Monokuma launched up onto the podium. “Wow. Look at all of you getting along so well. It fills my heart with joy, knowing my students are such good friends…oooh…I might tear up.” He shook his head and his claws sharpened. “As if! Why aren’t you guys killing each other yet?! This was so much easier with that council!”

“Council?” Watanabe-san repeated, though quickly ignored.

“Hmm…I guess it’s hard to get you guys to start killing without any incentive. Well, if that’s what it takes then I’ll just have to give it to you now!” Monokuma produced a number of envelopes and threw them into the air. Each was marked with one of our names, and though hesitant, we all eventually grabbed our respective envelopes. “Now, if you look inside, you’ll find a very special thing! A name or a word or a phrase, maybe even an image! It might not hold significance to you…but it does to someone in the room!”

“Explain. Clearly.” Watanabe-san demanded.

“Usually I would just give you something like a video that means something special to you and only you…but that formula is way overdone! What you have is somebody else’s motive! What kind of motive you ask…? It’s unfinished business from the outside world!” Monokuma placed his paws over his mouth, attempting to stop himself from laughing.

I looked down at the envelope with my name crudely written on the front. I tore it open and read what was on it. In big block letters it simply said “APE”.

“How does this make us want to kill?” Sly-san said.

“Well…in 24 hours, I’ll reveal that unfinished business to all of you! And if some of you have already figured out what your unfinished business is…I’m sure you wouldn’t want it getting out.” Monokuma’s red eye flashed menacingly. “Upu…upupupupu!” And with that, he disappeared behind the podium.

There was an eerie silence looming in the air. What kind of unfinished business would I have in the outside world? What does “APE” mean? Who does it belong to? Who has mine? There’s so many things I want to know about…

“Oi! Show me your letter!” I snapped back when Okanaya-san began advancing towards Shinko-san. “I saw that fuckin’ look you gave me! You have something that’s mine, don’t you!?” Shinko-san scoffed and pushed Okanaya-san away.

“Don’t be such a brute. I was simply admiring how the steam flared out from those nostrils of yours. Besides, someone like me would never be able to identify if this motive belonged to you.” Shinko-san shrugged dismissively. That really didn’t seem to please Okanaya-san as he went to grab Shinko-san by the shirt, Shinko-san batted Okanaya-san’s arm away. “Do not even think about touching me!”

“You egotistical bastard, I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you act like that!” That set off alarm bells quickly in the group. Watanabe-san called on the both of them to cut it out, but it didn’t seem like either of them were listening.

“H-hey, maybe you should calm down-“

“Huh…?” Okanaya-san loomed over me when I tried to intervene. “You wanna get involved, asshole?! I’ll fuckin’ kill you too!”

“Th-that’s going too far, you shouldn’t say stuff like that! You’re not thinking properly at all!” I kept trying different lines to diffuse the situation but before I knew it Okanaya-san’s fist was reeling back.

Then black.

-Chapter 1 Daily Life, Infirmary-

“Ughhhh…” I slowly let the light floor my vision. It took me a few moments to register the fact that the blurriness was caused by my glasses being removed. “Wh…where….?”

“A-ah!” I heard a squeak and someone trip over something. I could make out the grey blob in front of me enough to guess who it was. The only with that colour scheme…

“Ram-san…?” I guessed. She grabbed something next to bed and handed me it. I felt they were my glasses and I put them back on. I was right, it was Ram-san. Now that I had clear vision, I knew I was in the infirmary. “…what happened? Ah!” As I spoke, there was a sting by my right temple.

“O-oh…you were knocked out by Okanaya-kun…Watanabe-san asked me to take you here to treat your injury. You were bleeding and needed a stitch, so I patched you up…” Her voice was demure. Scared, almost.

“Right, I remember the fight now. What happened? Are Shinko-san and Okanaya-san okay?”

“Y-yes…o-once you got hit, a few of the o-others jumped in and pushed the two apart. Luckily nobody else got hurt.” ‘luckily’. Did I have to take the blow so we could avoid a murder maybe…? How lucky for everyone else that they didn’t get hit.

“So, you patched me up?”

“R-right. E-even if it’s a gross talent, being the Ultimate Taxidermist means I’m great with stitches.” She smiled weakly, but there was a hint of pride in it. She must really love her talent.

“Ram-san, I’m really sorry about what I said when we met. I didn’t mean to sound like your talent was gross or something. I do really think what you do is impressive.” I should’ve apologised earlier, but Ram-san wasn’t answering her door for anyone.

She seemed genuinely shocked by what I said, caught in a momentary disbelief. “Ah…th-thank you, Nagata-kun.” She smiles softly. A genuine smile, and even if it’s only for a moment, I’m glad she’s smiling.

-Chapter 1, Daily Life BDA-

The next day, I arrived at the cafeteria earlier than usual to find most of the usual suspects there. Sly-san, Asano-san, Kurosaki-san, Ishikawa-san…but what surprised me was- “Ram-san? You came too?”

“A-ah, yes! I, um…I felt more unsafe being alone, so…I figured it was better to come along here in the morning.” She played with the piece of hair that trailed down the centre of her face as she spoke. I smiled a little, it was good that she seemed to be trusting the group a little more. I wonder if it has something to do with what we had talked about yesterday?

“Has anyone seen Shinko? Or Watanabe? They’re both usually here by now.” Sly-san’s question seems normal, but with the current situation, I can’t help but feel alarmed.

“Couldn’t they have simply overslept?” Ishikawa-san suggested.

“Not a chance. Not with that Monokuma announcement in the morning. It’d wake even the heaviest of sleepers.” Kurosaki-san smirked. The more they talked, the more anxious I got. I think my face gave it away because Ram-san looked at me and frowned.

“Nagata-kun…do you want to go look for them? We can check their doors.” She suggested. I was probably being paranoid, but...

“Y-yeah, let’s go.” I stood up probably too quickly, but I don’t care. Ram-san and I leave the room and walk towards the dorm hallway.

That’s when we hear it though. A loud scream, almost bloodcurdling. Alarm bells are really going off in my head now. “Wh-who was that?!” Ram-san exclaimed. She didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed my wrist and began pulling me toward the source of the sound. Thinking about how far away it sounds it had to come from…

“The boiler room…” I mumbled. Ram-san and I glanced at each other nervously before I reached for the door handle. It’s fine, I keep telling myself. Everything is fine…

I’m just paranoid…right?

When we walk into the boiler room, on the ground behind the shutters is the body of Maemi Watanabe, the Ultimate Harem Mangaka, face down on the floor, blood seeping through the back of her cardigan. And next to the door is the extremely pale Shinko-san, who must have been that let out the scream.

It takes a moment to hit us before…

“Ah…KYAAAAAAAAA!!!” Ram-san let out her own scream. I didn’t even flinch from the volume, I was so dumbfounded by what I was looking at that I just fell to my knees.

“W-Watanabe-san…? This…c-can’t be right…” I saw her yesterday. She was acting the same as always. So serious but had this playful side that you couldn’t help wanting to be her friend. She wanted to lead us out of the game without any deaths so…wh-why is Watanabe-san like that!?

~Ding dong, bing bong~

My attention was brought to the monitor that flashed on displaying Monokuma. “A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time is given, a class trial shall be held! Please all gather at the scene of the crime, the boiler room!” The monitor switched off.

“N-no way…a class trial?” Shinko-san spoke. A class trial was that thing Monokuma said would happen whenever a murder took place…which meant…Watanabe-san was murdered? By one of us?

#Mod J #mod post #DR #Foundation Short Stories #79-C KG AU

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