#remove its context and make me regret everything again

[lunarr-stuff]

...

[blanketorghost]

When In Dreams I Go To You

Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu Fujisaki (OC)

Word count: 2,624

Author's note: uuh yeah this lacks a lot of context that comes from other fics but I really wanted to publish this very specific part of their story. A year and a half after the main storyline. Azul is 19 and in his senior internships and Yuu is 20 and back on Earth.

Summary: After months of work and research, Yuu, Ortho and Idia made a reliable duplicate portal. Initally designed to let Grim travel between worlds, Azul catches word of it first. And having regretted the sour note they left their relationship on, Azul strongarms himself into the operation and surprises Yuu on Earth. Right as he was about to make the first step into moving on from his ex boyfriend.

This scene is the 3rd ish part of this earth centric arc.

"What were you even planning to do once Idia-san manages to create a way for you to travel back? Would you just... pop in for a visit?"

Yuu merely shrugs and turns around, walking to the pantry and taking out a small glass jar with more leaves. "Maybe. I was hoping I'd be able to before you graduate."

"... and?" Azul's breath catches in his throat, eyes scanning each and every one of Yuu's movements as he filled the kettle with water again and put it on the stove to boil, this time filled with a different blend of tea inside.

"... I don't know. Maybe I could've caught a glimpse of you when the seniors were back."

"Is looking at me from afar enough for you?"

"I like to lie to myself and pretend it is."

Azul worries his lip as he looks down at his own tea, which had become lukewarm long ago. His reflection merely stares back, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes glazed over as he mulled over his next words. "Did you ever think about me?"

An uncomfortable, faint echo reverberates through the room, only now making Azul notice how sparcely decorated it is.

As if taken from a minimalist magazine, Yuu's apartment looked... cold. Not lived in. There wasn't even a hint of the warmth that his old bedroom in Ramshackle had, one which was full of little trinkets and gifts he's collected.

Yuu lingers at the edge of the marble counter, staring at the kettle with such intensity one might think that'd be enough to make it break. "... Is the sky blue?" He utters out, his voice bouncing off the walls, giving even more weight to his words.

"Is water wet?" The kettle boils, and the shrill sound of its whistle makes Azul flinch before Yuu turns the stove off.

He takes his time to pour a fresh cup of tea and takes another cookie, carefully placing both on a saucer. Yuu slowly balances the small plate with both hands as he walks back to the coffee table and places it in front of Azul, then takes the old cup of already-cold tea from his hands.

"Does Yuu Fujisaki think of Azul Ashengrotto?"

He whispers softly as their eyes meet, and Yuu's hand grazes Azul's fingers when he gently tugs the cup away. He silently walks back to the kitchen and pours the contents down the drain. He turns on the faucet and lets the sound of flowing water take over as he gently scrubs the dishes, creating a generous layer of foam build up before rinsing.

Azul's breath wavers as he shakily takes the new tea placed in front of him. He feels his own strength somehow leave him, as if the contents of the cup had just suddenly transformed to lead and his arms had had all their bones removed.

"I think this blend might suit you better. It's less strong than the matcha I mull. More similar to the black tea you have at the lounge." Yuu says as he washes the last dish left and starts wiping everything dry. "It goes well with the cookies."

Azul simply nods and takes a sip of the piping hot beverage. He was right, like always. The tea was rich and just slightly bitter, perfectly balancing out the sweetness of the cookie. It was slightly smoky and earthy, warm and comforting. Just enough for Azul to try and speak again.

"Why did you not call?"

Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

Yuu moves on with his task, wiping stubornly at a mug. Then takes a pair of chopsticks and does the same with each.

"Would you have picked up?" Finally, Yuu answers. His posture slumps, and he places a plate on the dishrack. "Would you..." his voice breaks, and he has to cover his mouth with one hand as his shoulders tremble.

The room is filled with heavy silence as Azul waits for Yuu to say something. Anything. Should he come there and comfort him instead? Would Yuu even accept that after all the pain he's caused him?

He was never good with these kinds of situations. Yuu was the one who did the reassuring, the one who made him cups of fresh tea when he was upset and wiped frustrating tears away in the worse days. Yuu was the one who cared for everyone else.

"Why did you come?" Yuu hugs himself tight, the slightest hint of his deltoids showing through his woolen vest from the sheer strength of his grip.

Azul, in response, takes a sharp breath. He wanted to say it was obvious. That the reason he threw himself into that portal was to take Yuu back with him now that he was more successful, now that he could provide and give him everything he wanted.

But could he really do that?

Could he really, when Yuu's face was basically in every billboard, in every magazine from this world? How could he compete when Yuu had already reached the top and he was just starting out?

His voice catches in his throat when he tries to speak. Truly, it was foolish to think he could satisfy Yuu. Deep down, he already knew this. Yet, he still needed to say it. He couldn't just stand by and let Yuu suffer alone, thinking he didn't want him back. Because Sevens, he wanted him.

He needed to let him know that his abscence haunted him constantly. That every little thing, every detail, and subtle touch he added to his contracts were a testament to Yuu's impact in his life. He could see him everywhere. In the honey in his tea, in the carefully laid out blankets in his hotel rooms, or in the shaky lines of a bad drawing.

He hated to admit that the warmth Yuu gave him when they were friends, when they were lovers, was one he couldn't replicate. No amount of searching, no amount of money could buy what Yuu made him feel. What Yuu specifically made him feel.

Azul worries his bottom lip until he feels that still foreign, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Words were his trade. They were the glue that held his contracts together. Yet, there he was, unable to string a sentence that could possibly encapsule Yuu's importance to him. His knuckles turn white as he grips the teacup tightly against his chest, and, as a small mercy to the delicate porcelain, he digs his hand onto his coat pocket, hitting something hard.

...

His hand curls around the flat slate, slowly taking it out. He caresses the wood's surface, the small etches hand carved onto it, and the slightly faded off paint from constant use. The ribbon at the top had also slightly frayed at the edges, something he had to fix himself by burning them slightly a few months back. He turns the slab around and looks at the handpainted message on the back, which sparkled with his own signature golden ink. Yet, the writing wasn't his. The gentle strokes of a foreign language were there, still legible thanks to that translator amulet he'd invested on a while ago.

Azul didn't even need that, though. He thought. He could've recited those phrases by memory with how often he'd read them.

"....U... Unlike the waves..." He starts, his voice shaky and slow. He'd never dared to recite this out loud in the months before, but now, it felt, more than ever, that those words were calling to him. "... that come up to the shore of Suminoe..." Azul gulps, his mouth gone dry. Still, he pushes on. Only a line left. "In the gathered night..."

"... When in dreams I go to you, You hide from people's eyes."

Yuu's voice takes him by surprise as he recites the rest, his tone just as weak.

Azul had always wondered what the rest of that poem said, what made Yuu want to write those specific words into his 18th birthday gift. And what were those last lines that completed it. Now, he didn't know if he regretted or delighted in hearing them. He can no longer count the nights he'd spent awake thinking about them. Were they merely something beautiful to adorn the bookmark at his insistence, or were there something more?

Even in the brief period in which they dated, Yuu refused to complete the poem for him, giving him promises of getting him the full anthology for him to read and enjoy. But he couldn't have enjoyed it.

Even when, a mere week after their break up, Yuu sent over the carefully wrapped book, Azul couldn't get himself to open it and find the end for himself. Not when all he could think about was Yuu's sweet voice reciting those first verses to him.

Now, he had his answer. An answer that squeezed his heart and made him want to scream and cry into the void. Yet also made him want to run into Yuu's arms and drown in his embrace, lay there and feel his scent again, his soft hands holding his back, and listen to his heartbeat, no matter how changed he was now.

"Why did you come here?"

Azul was so dazed he didn't notice that Yuu had kneeled right in front of him, arms crossed in that familiar defensive way. He couldn't dare look at his eyes, no matter how much he missed that mauve hue. He didn't deserve it.

Yet, his eyes moved by themselves, tracing the imaginary lines from his collar to his neck, his jaw to his moles, his lips to his nose, and his cheeks to his eyes and brows, which were furrowed into a tight grimace despite that beautiful shine his irises gave off. He was still perfect after all this time.

"Yuu...." He whispers, tears welling up in his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" Was he really going to force him to say it out loud? How much he missed him, how much he needed him. Weren't the words they exchanged when they were together enough?

"I don't want to get my hopes up again." Yuu says softly as he tightens his arms around himself in that heartbreaking way he does when he's upset.

Right.

Azul was the one to break things off. He was the one to leave Ramshackle early after the farewell party, and he was the one who rejected Yuu's last attempt to reconcile before he left. But could he not cut him some slack, too?

They knew this was going to happen eventually. And Yuu deserved to go back home without any responsibilities to burden him back in Twisted Wonderland.

He had to do it for his own good. He had to.

He had to.

At least, that's what he told himself. That's the only thing that gave him a morsel of comfort after months of grief and pain.

Then why, especially now, did it feel like it was a horrible mistake?

"I miss you." Azul finally admits out loud, feeling like he's swallowed shards of glass that tore out his vocal chords. The truth was bitter and sticky and so sharply painful he felt as if his whole neck was being torn out. As if two fires had ignited in his lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

"I miss you too." Yuu whispers back, his expression getting softer. A small mercy for Azul's shattered hearts.

"I came here for you." If he was going to be honest, Azul may as well get everything out now that he had Yuu here. He didn't know when would be the next time they'd be allowed a moment like this. "I needed to see you again. I wanted to make things right between us."

"Why?" Yuu asks again and makes a face. Was he really going to force him to say it? Obviously, it was because he loved him. Obviously, it was because he wanted him back. So why did he need Azul to say it out loud?

Azul gulps and musters the courage to look at Yuu's eyes again. He simply couldn't say no to that pleading look, to those puppy dog eyes, and that kicked dog expression. Did he need it that much? Did his gaze really betray the amount of trust Yuu had on his words?

Fine. Then so be it.

He'd write him an entire book if he needed to.

"Because I love you." Azul struggles to get the words out, his tongue suddenly deciding to rebel against him. Yet, he continues on. "I still love you. And I'm sorry."

"I love you too." Yuu's hand reaches out to caress Azul's cheek. And, at that moment, he thinks the dam's about to break. Sevens know he can already feel the cracks forming. "And I'm sorry, too."

"Why? I broke up with you."

"I know, but I didn't make the break up easy either. I'm sorry." Yuu strokes his cheek with his thumb and places his other hand above Azul's, the one that held onto the bookmark. "I kept on sending you gifts but didn't have the courage to even write to you." He bites his cheek before continuing, "I was too scared you'd throw any letters away."

"I would - I would never do that -" Now it's Azul turn to frown as his tone turns more indignant. He wouldn't have read them, probably, just like how he'd never unwrapped any present Yuu sent. But he still kept everything. A part of him was scared. Scared of the feelings they might reignite. But he would never throw away something as precious as Yuu's gifts were.

"I was still scared." Yuu smiles a little. "Can you blame me?"

"No, I cannot." Azul snorts in response, a bit of the tension breaking. Somehow, Yuu always knew how to make difficult conversations easy. "But I still wouldn't have thrown them away."

"Good to know." Yuu squeezes his hand. Once again, it demonstrated just how easily it was for him to make Azul's heart melt.

They stay there, looking at each other for what feels like an eternity. Finally having enough time to examine those little things that had changed in just one year of being apart. The new earrings, the longer hair, the slightly matured features, and slightly more pronounced eye bags. He looked so... uncanny. Not exactly the same Yuu he met, but not exactly a foreign look either. Like an odd middle ground he couldn't pinpoint. Would his hugs still feel familiar? Would his skin feel the same? Would he carry the same scent? The answer should've been obvious, but Azul couldn't help but wonder.

Were his kisses still the same?

He lingers on Yuu's face, letting go of the bookmark and cupping his cheek. The way Yuu leans to his touch is so familiar. A habit formed after hundreds of times. His other hand soon follows the first, framing his face with his fingers. Just like before.

It's always been easy to pull him close. Yuu always allowed Azul to do so. The lack of resistance took a weight off of Azul's shoulders. He didn't need to fight for Yuu's affection. He gave it away so freely all the time. It sometimes made Azul jealous. But in times like this, that kind of trust was all he needed. All he needed to know was that he was doing the right thing when he pressed his lips to Yuu's, and Yuu so easily kissed back.

It was awkward to have Yuu kneeling on the ground, though. He would've much rather had him sitting on the couch beside him. But beggars can't be choosers, and right now, all Azul begged for was for the Yuu he knew and loved to take him back in his arms again.

[lab-trash]

Today is mother's day and I got my dad a present. Multiple actually.

For background, my mom doesn't live with us. She moved out in 2021 and she moved back in with her parents just a couple months ago. She was neglectful when she did live here and I can't remember a single promise she ever kept.

My dad took over her (tiny amount of) responsibilities when she left and I think it made me appreciate him more. My dad wasn't there a ton when I was a kid, but that was because he had a job that required a 45 minute commute, and it's not like he was gonna get anything better to support our 8-member family. My dad has always tried his best.

(Fun fact: The day I bought a #1 Dad Mug at a thrift shop that matched my mom's very unique #1 Mom Mug was the same day my mom's mug broke. Talk about symbolism.)

In October he took in a homeless trans kid that my sister's partner was friends with. Both that kid and my sisters partner are going to be in our family pictures this coming Thursday.

At Walmart, I saw a pillow that said "mama bear" on it. And immediately I was like, I have to get this for my dad. For context, my dad is a bigger man with a big beard and long hair. He's a bear. He's also greygender and pretty much only uses his agab terms because, well, he's 45 and it doesn't really matter to him.

After seeing that pillow, I decided I didn't want to just do that. I got him a cuticle remover (he was talking about how he enjoyed it), some new hair things and hair clips (again, long hair), some oatmeal cookies that I know he likes, dark chocolate peanutbutter doves, and some liquid death, which we'd recently had a laugh over the existence of before promptly realising its actually really good. Lastly, a peanuts card that I picked up last minute.

I had to fit everything into a box from work so he wouldn't see anything and I brought it home under the pretense that my coworker had given me some miscellaneous items while decluttering. I brought it into my room, set everything up and put it behind my door.

I went around and had everyone sign it, only barely managing to get my sister before she left for work (unfortunately her partner left earlier than we anticipated, so I couldn't get them to sign the card) and I put everything into this tall bag with a unicorn on it. It was one of the only bags that was big enough to fit everything, and I just thought it was so perfect.

I was also planning on giving him a painting I did in middle school of the northern lights— I have all of my paintings from middle school tucked away on my bookshelf— but I couldn't find it.

I had to go to the store with him when he picked up my sister, so I couldn't just wait for him to get home. I had to wait til he went out to the van, sprint upstairs, grab this bag that's easily 15 pounds because of the liquid death, rush back downstairs, hide it between our couches, rush out to the van, then rush back inside when we got home and set it up on a couch for him to open.

It went over really well, which was something i was worried about right at the end there, since he'd asked me and my sister if we told our mom happy mothers day. I hadn't, but my sister had. They were talking about it when they entered and I beckoned dad into the living room for his mother's day gift.

Overall, I spent about $60 on the gift. And I don't regret it. One of the biggest things of note with my mom was that whenever we celebrated mother's day, I would always try to put effort into it to make her happy. And it was never... really appreciated. I remember one year I got this sort of clear trophy-wine glass thingy and put some chocolate in it, and I had all of her kids sign the lid. She didn't take it when she left. It was sitting in our kitchen (with half of our deadnames on it, might I add) until a few months ago. If she'd left it in dad's room, I think it'd be less hurtful, but she left it on the microwave cart where we all saw it every day. Mocking us both with our deadnames and our failure of a gift.

Buying for my dad wasn't like that. I know even if I fucked up one of the items, he'd enjoy even the existence of it at all. I could've just bought the card or just the pillow and he would've been happy. But I didn't, almost because of that fact. My dad would be happy with less, so he deserved more.

[psid99]

RIFT: IGNITE, Chapter I: Lost.

Please understand that English is not my first language and I have no writing experience whatsoever, so I only tried my best to get my general idea come across.

Refer to : part 1 and part 2.

Chapter I: Lost.

“Can I borrow your lighter? If it's okay with you, of course."

Diluc was approached by a strange boy wearing a hooded jacket. But things didn't start out this way.

the begin? 3000 years ago should be correct. The boy looked exactly the same as the previous time they had met, which was the first thing Diluc noticed.

It was a different life; they were all different lives. But regret hung over Diluc when recollections of him unexpectedly invaded his head each time he was on his deathbed. In those lives, Diluc didn't even begin to recall about this specific person until that precise moment, so forget the promises, he didn't.

However, there was then the tiniest, most remote possibility of a life when he remembered it all, with his time still remaining, and it was due to having met Ajax.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I came upon Wuthering Hill, and it was windy, much like the town's name. I started to consider how rusty I had grown with age as I chased the hat that had been blown away. I realised that because I still had a hill to climb, there was no point in wasting my energy by going after it. The top hat had finally started to lose its levitation, so I slowed down while casually glancing at it. The hat didn't touch the ground, though, and in the midst of the roaring, your joyous voice was like a sudden beam of sunshine, clearing away all the fog that had been obscuring my thoughts.

"Got it! That was close, haha."

With the hat in hand, you walked towards me and I couldn't hear the wind howling anymore.

I suddenly find myself in front of that jail again, holding your hand, and you looked just the same.

" I can't save you."

I struggled to keep the words from falling out, but I was unable to conceal the turmoil that was making me short of breath. You turned your attention from my eyes to our joined hands for a brief moment, giving me the impression that you hadn't heard what I had said.

" I know." Your smile had a hint of melancholy, but you kept holding my hand. It was the end for us. Being a mortal means having a finite, single existence; after death, everything ends; we have no idea what it means to be immortal; it serves no purpose to think about being born again. The only thing left at that point was love; there was no hope; just love and misery. As a result, you weren't terrified and you didn't consider taking revenge.

However, I leaned in closer, like a conceited fool, and I made promises to you that I was unable to keep, going beyond the limits of what a mortal could rationally understand. Leaving my heart chained to the place you were.

" You must be Mr. Ragnvindr, the new owner of the mansion up the hill." Despite being overtaken by the memories, I could still clearly hear your voice when it pulled me out of them and brought me back to the present. Now that I look at you more closely, I noticed that you were dressed rather light for such chilly conditions, but you were dazzling with youth. You had bandages covering both of your wrists, your head, primarily to conceal your left eye, and your exposed neck. On your exposed neck, I could see numbers, imprinted Roman digits. However, I could only focus on them briefly as your eye caught mine once again as you drew forward to give me the hat.

Without removing my eyes from your glaze, I seized the hat you handed me.

"Thank you,…" -Ajax, I had your name on the tip of my tongue, but I lacked the confidence or the right context to utter it. Given that we have never met in this life, it might be questionable if I do.

"Sir, it's Ajax." The way you introduced yourself makes me feel a little special once more because I know how dearly you treasured your name.

"Many thanks, Mr. Ajax. Perhaps you are the housekeeper for the mansion. I apologies for being impolite; I forgot to ask for your name when I first sent the message and there was no sender's name on the telegram I received."

"No worries at all, sir. Mr. Whitney, who retired from his position a few months ago but occasionally still stops by the mansion to give me instructions, was the person who really got your telegram. He wanted to welcome you as well, so he offered to get in touch with you instead. I'm the new recruit. Both of us were waiting for you at the mansion when I decided to go since I felt like you might require help with your luggage."

It appears that I will be in your hands sooner than expected; thank you, Mr. Ajax.

"Sir, only Ajax will do! And it's really not a problem at all, shall we move forward? I'm sure you had a long ride; let's get you rested. It should take about 15 minutes to climb the hill."

I paused for a brief second when you offered to carry the case for me. It would seem strange if I refuse, but I can't help but feel uneasy, a fleeting recognition of the gap between us and the remaining time. But as I went with you up the hill, I swiftly threw that idea aside.

"Thou dost smile, I sing the while…" I couldn't help but think back to a long-ago memory when I heard you humming.

'What's that?' Even after you asked, we kept walking. You are aware that the things I said might have been something I wanted to keep to myself, but you are unsure, so you gave me the option of responding. Also unchanged is your awkward approach to showing affection.

"Now that I'm retired, I've been reading a lot lately—not news and reports, but poetry. I guess that whenever my mind wanders, it always comes to a work of literature."

"Uh, maybe your subconscious is encouraging you to start writing now that you're retired?" Your words had a hint of excitement.

"Hmm, perhaps," I noticed your hair being caught in the sun's early rays, which created a shadow and highlighted your youthful features. Maybe when I'm gone, I'll write memoirs that sound like letters to you about us.

"I invited Mr. Whitney to remain for dinner, but he politely declined, so it was just you and me. You should wash up and rest for the time being; I'll wake you up when it's almost time for supper, okay, Sir?" You spoke while standing at the door and awaiting my response. In all honesty, I don't want to be away from you right now, but I was at a loss for an explanation that wouldn't sound rude.

Okay, I'll meet you at supper." And I saw you shut the door after me.

I sighed deeply as I sat down on the bed with my hands propped up against my face. That was difficult; I sincerely hope nothing seems suspicious. When you first called my name, I was on the verge of rushing over to you to embrace you when I heard you. How is it that hardly anything about you has changed? Your speech, gait, grin, spirit, and other physical traits all contribute to the first ending being nothing more than an illusion.

But I believe it wasn't a dream because I can still feel the weight of my steps when I walked with you or the rough roughness of my skin when I ran my hands over my face. It's a miracle that I still have this much time remaining considering how old I am. It's been too long, but you don't seem to have aged a day. Was this maybe what they meant by "everlasting youth"?

The 3000 year voyage had left my mind weary and worn; it was likely the longest ride I've ever taken. I then closed my eyes and waited for you to wake me at dinnertime so that I could ask you more about how you've been.

But you never returned to wake me up in that life. When it was well past dinnertime and you weren't there, I woke up by myself. I reasoned that you may have freaked out, feeling uneasy spending time with a dull old man like me. You might have left, or you might have gotten lost climbing the hill in the dark. Anything, really—as long as I can still see you again.

I did see you again, because your mutilated body was discovered near the woods the next morning.

That's when it struck me, there was no such thing as everlasting youth, because you were never given the chance to grow old in the first place.

[ohnominamino]

An Essay on Love in Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a movie about love in all its forms. From the love of family, friends, and neighbors, to the compassion we feel for people we have never met. The movie reminds us that love is something we continuously gain, lose, and choose, again and again. Which love is greatest? In my opinion, the answer to that question is left up to interpretation. In this essay, I will give my own personal interpretation on certain character interactions and what I believe we are meant to take away from their Rebuild portrayals. 

The character I will start with is one I’ve noticed the most outrage over from people who haven’t seen the movie and read out-of-context spoilers: Kaworu Nagisa. 

Kaworu is a beloved character among many Evangelion fans, especially those who are members of the LGBT+ community. He is a canonical love interest of Shinji Ikari and I want to reassure people that this final movie does not change that fact. However, it does not make the couple blatantly endgame either. This skirting around the couple might make some fans upset, and while their feelings are completely valid, I do not think they fully understand the difficulties faced by LGBT+ people in Japan, nor do they understand the way that romance is typically conveyed in Japanese storytelling. (I recommend watching “Is ‘Yuri On Ice’ Good Gay Representation?” by James Somerton for more about storytelling nuances.) 

What have we been shown about Shinji and Kaworu’s love? The good news is, anything you read into the original TV series and End of Evangelion is completely true for the Rebuilds— because Kaworu is the same Kaworu. This movie proves Evangelion is a single universe set on repeat, and that Kaworu and Shinji meet each other every loop, and in each, Kaworu is trying to make Shinji happy. Within the final movie, Shinji becomes aware of the loops and chooses to break the cycle and free Kaworu from his pain. 

What does the relationship between Shinji and Kaworu teach us? I believe the purpose of their love is to show the audience that first, in the words of Kaji, “love has no gender.” Second, I believe Kaworu’s love in particular is a warning about basing your own happiness solely upon another person. There are parallels drawn between Gendo/Yui and Kaworu/Shinji. Gendo could not exist without Yui, and so he was willing to destroy the world to be reunited with her. For Kaworu, it was not the destruction of humanity, but the destruction of himself that defined his tragedy. What’s important within the final movie, in my opinion, is that Shinji does not reject Kaworu’s love. With the insight he’s gained from remembering past loops, he sees Kaworu’s love and appreciates him, but he also sees his suffering and wants to ease it. He helps Kaworu into a new world where he can seek his own happiness and find balance in his life (something his father did not have). 

While Kaworu and Shinji are not seen as an explicit couple at the end of the movie, it’s significant to note that, when he sets Kaworu free, Shinji holds out his hand to Kaworu as a promise to stay together. Over the course of the movie, Shinji comes to accept his connection to others through accepting touch (in the form of hand holding and hugs from Rei, Misato, and Gendo); however, Kaworu is the only character in the movie who Shinji initiates physical contact with and that speaks to how much Kaworu means to him. This simple gesture, in my opinion, keeps the door open for Kaworu and Shinji to be a couple one day, after Kaworu has found more balance in his life. 

If I were to write an entire essay about Kaworu, it would be titled, “Out of the Coffin: How the Resurrection of Kaworu Nagisa Buries the Tragic Lovers Trope” because this movie truly does just that. 

Another potential love interest for Shinji for many years was Asuka; however, unlike with Kaworu, the nature of this relationship is not left up to interpretation by the end of the movie. Before her big final battle, Asuka tells Shinji, “I think I loved you back then” (regarding their time in middle school) and Shinji, during Instrumentality, tells Asuka, “Thank you for saying you loved me. I loved you too.” It is past tense. 

What does this relationship teach us? It’s a beautiful way of showing that we can love people, and grow and learn, and let go when we no longer fit each other. Letting go is an integral part of life. Whereas other Instrumentality scenes involve touch, Asuka’s, mirroring the ending of End of Evangelion, has a distinct lack of touch. Shinji sits with his arms around his knees and Asuka turns her body away from him. He gives her his thanks and he sends her off to find her peace. Asuka and Shinji teach us that it’s okay to grow out of relationships. You can appreciate what they were to you at the time they happened and move on. 

What about Rei? To be honest with you, this movie is less about Rei’s relationship with Shinji, and more about her relationship with the world. Rei teaches movie viewers about the simple pleasures of living. While Shinji is in mourning for the first quarter of the movie, Rei (as “Sokkuri”) is learning about crop growing and community, the wonder of babies and kittens, the joy of the bath after a long day of fruitful work, and the power of words and picture books. At the end of her life, she only regrets not having more time to spend with the people she loves. In Instrumentality, Shinji accepts her hand when it is offered to him, which I hope signifies he is ready to see life as she had come to during the final movie. 

Rei teaches us that we can love living and to not take our limited time for granted. 

Next, we move on to parent figures: Gendo and Misato. I think they both represent people ill suited to the role, who do the best they can despite it. Gendo, as mentioned for Kaworu above, is a warning about defining yourself by your relationship to another person (Ikari, afterall, is Yui’s name). He is also a lesson in how people mourn and how they can lash out. Misato, like Gendo, felt herself a poor parent, and while mourning the loss of Kaji, she gave up her child to be raised by other people, but, unlike Gendo, went forward to put all her energy into protecting humanity. Both of them reach out to hug Shinji within the movie and he accepts them where they are. 

While I wouldn’t say the movie shows that Shinji forgives Gendo, it does show his making an effort to understand and make peace with what others have done. For Misato, it is fair to say we can still hope for a better future, even when it feels like everything is crumbling around us. Her self-sacrificing love for her son and the whole of humanity is what enables Shinji to then save the people he loves (via the spear of Gaius). 

In the movie, we are also shown friendship. Touji, Hikari, and Kensuke are important members of their community who maintain open communication with those around them and respect others’ boundaries. They are patient and kind and represent the importance of being present. They teach us to meet people where they are and support them how we can, whether it’s giving them a warm meal or giving them space when they need it. 

There are many more characters that could be talked about, but today I am going to end on Mari. Mari’s love is physical. She enjoys being in people’s personal bubbles. She cuddles Asuka and helps trim her hair, she gets into Gendo’s space at college, and at the end of the movie, she reaches out her hand to Shinji to help him stand up from his seat. Upon first glance, some viewers might take Mari and Shinji’s final scene to be romantic, but the reality of it is this: We do not, and cannot, know what kind of love she is meant to represent in his life.

We do not know Mari’s relationship with Shinji because they hardly interact in the movie. She clearly cares about him, but in my opinion, it comes from a place of duty and compassion— Mari was friends with Gendo and Yui. She has been there since he was born. (If we take the manga to be canon, then Mari even had romantic feelings towards his mother. Her hairstyle and glasses are from Yui. At the end of the movie, Mari has changed her hairstyle, which to me implies she has moved on, and “getting” with Shinji would be a thematic break.)

Additionally, their conversation, while flirty, is very much one that implies they haven’t seen each other for a while. Mari is someone who is very physically affectionate. With everyone. If someone ignores that and focuses on the fact she gets into Shinji’s space and claims that’s romantic, they better acknowledge it’s possibly romantic with Asuka, who we see far more intimacy with. When Mari flirts, Shinji flirts back and her initial reaction is surprise, “Wow, you’ve learned to talk back!” Her purpose is clear. She is there to remove the DSS choker from his neck. 

Personally, I love that Mari is the one to close the movie, for the exact reason that we do not know her relationship with Shinji. For Mari to have an assigned role would be to say, “This kind of love is most important,” when the entire movie was spent showing us each love is of equal importance in the balance and building of our lives. (It’s wonderful to see those types of love embodied across the platform from Shinji at the end of the movie: Rei and Kaworu, who, just like in End of Evangelion, could signify the ability to connect with others and be loved.)

If you view Mari as a romantic love interest, then I think it speaks to the value that you as an individual give to romance rather than what the characters themselves are feeling. To me, Mari, the character who was created to “destroy Eva,” is a symbol of all love. When Shinji takes her offered hand and then pulls her to run into the new world, it’s a symbol of balance. The give and take of any kind of relationship. 

We are the product of every relationship we have ever had, from our parents to the people we once loved, from our friendships to any other person we want to stay connected to. Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a story about these relationships. It is a story about love. 

[wedreamedlove]

Mo Yi in Love - Character Study

I just read Mo Yi's [SSR Brewing Thoughts] card and, not only am I an emotional mess, but I also hit an epiphany regarding understanding his character and now I have to write about this. I know I'm going to repeat this at the end, but understand that Mo Yi is just a man who wants his first love to be his last love and who has relatable fears over failure, haha.

SPOILERS go up to chapter 3 of Mo Yi's personal route, [SSR Brewing Thoughts], [SR Fake Tears], [SSR Dangerous Invitation], and reveal Mo Yi's family background. In addition, while the lines are in order, I chose to remove some descriptions to keep things shorter.

First, I want to talk about Mo Yi's view towards love.

It's really positive, which is ironic given his background and what he grew up around. However, he's always been a rational person and the object or feeling itself has no crime, it's what people choose to do with it that matters.

[Personal Route Ch.1]

MY: True love brings light and hope to life and makes a person better and better.

MY: At any time, you could meet with that person who would make you a better person, but you may not be aware of it at the time.

[Personal Route Ch.3]

MY: Alright, quiet... What everyone here has said is all "love".

MY: Love itself is a concept that cannot be clearly defined because, for every person, their feelings and preferences are different.

MY: So, this student here, I apologize sincerely but I may not be able to give you an accurate answer.

Student: Professor, what do you feel is love then?

MY: Me...?

Mo Yi faintly smiled.

His eyes passed through the sea of people and met mine.

MY: To me, it is a unique miracle.

MY: She makes me unable to control wanting to investigate, to touch, and to figure out everything.

MY: There are even times where, for a short moment, I am unable to distinguish the divide between reason and emotion.

MY: In this world, there are too many people who are fair on the outside but foul on the inside, however there will always be that one person...

MY: She will make you become better, make you believe everything is wonderful, make you start to look forward... to the future.

Look, he's an utter romantic! But, like I mentioned above, he's also a rational person and he needs to make sure that this love is The One for him.

Second, what's important to mention here is his view on Love At First Sight because that's what he admits to himself that he has for his heroine.

However, he has a huge scar about Love At First Sight because of the tragedy that was his parents. His father, a nobleman, and his mother, a foreign woman from a background of scholars, fell in love with each other at first sight. However, due to his father's poor handling of the church in his country, which basically denied their relationship unless Mo Yi's mother converted to their religion, Mo Yi's mother left his father and his father lost the love of his life and has been regretting it to this day.

So, what does he think about Love At First Sight?

[Personal Route Ch.2]

MY: ...Personally, I believe in "love at first sight".

Student: Really? I thought someone rational and calm like you wouldn't believe in this sort of illusion.

MY: "Love at first sight" has uncertain factors, but that doesn't mean its existence itself is a mistake.

MY: Furthermore, isn't it human nature to harbor hope for this wonderful and sincere emotion? I am no exception.

MY: Only...

Mo Yi paused slightly and, when he opened his mouth again, there seemed to be some unclear emotion in his tone.

MY: When "love at first sight" arrives, I am more inclined to make a particular judgment first rather than walk eagerly towards love.

MY: Those wonderful things that are unforgettable for people, are they for real or are they "ephemeral"? This is more important, is it not?

Student: Oh, can this sort of thing be tested? Professor, can you teach me?

MY: It's not a peculiar method, you just need to make observations.

Student: Observations?

MY: Correct, observe the other party's attitude and thoughts when facing matters, especially the things that really threaten their lives or safety.

MY: To a certain extent, a person's behavior can reflect their personality.

As a top psychiatrist, Mo Yi is extremely honest to himself with his own emotions and thoughts. Heck, that's why he always records voiced diary logs because he uses those to examine his own mental state. So, this determination on whether or not the target of his Love At First Sight is The One means a lot to him, because he will throw himself fully into this love.

One huge thing about Mo Yi is that he chases perfection and has an aversion to imperfect things. This stems from his deathly fear of failure because he doesn't believe there is a "next time" after failure. Once something fails, that's the end. This is due to his parents again and how, while it takes time to nurture emotions, it only takes an instant to lose emotions or trust.

Third, because of the above, it is incredibly important for Mo Yi minimize as much "risks" as possible.

The translations below are going to be paired together for consistency, but they will be addressing two points at the same time. One, that Mo Yi may exaggerate the emotions he reveals, but they are genuine. Two, that he is showing his "imperfect" and "ugly" sides to his heroine in controlled settings because he doesn't want her to hate him.

(On a minor note, I think it should be kept in mind that he's also observing her through all of this to determine whether or not she's The One, but honestly she just keeps surprising him throughout the game and making him fall harder and harder for her).

[SR Fake Tears]

In those gold eyes of his, the usual gentle smile was replaced by another emotion.

MC: Dr. M-Mo...?

That expression... was not sadness and was not relief, but...

A kind of inevitable self-confidence, the satisfaction of seeing through everything, or... an unfathomable control.

That glance... was it my misconception?

In the flickering light, that expression was gone in a flash. I was incapable of determining it, but instinctively a hint of a chill rose from the bottom of my heart...

MY: Did I scare you?

MY: I just... don't want to hide myself in front of you. I just want to be honest about my weakness in front of you alone.

MY: You won't hate me, right?

Before I could answer, he smiled softly.

MY: Let me indulge myself this once, alright?

MY: Just for this short while...

[SR Fake Tears]

Mo Yi sat at his desk and turned on his digital voice recorder.

The time on the recorder slowly moved forward, but Mo Yi only watched that changing number without saying a word.

After a long time, a soft sigh came from the quiet room.

MY: I shouldn't have done that...

MY: Just for a moment of warmth, I deliberately showed her that appearance, even exaggerating my sadness and weakness...

MY: I even fully enjoyed indulging myself... I sought even more from her, hoping she would... feel even more sorry for me.

MY: But, at that time, I really didn't want to use reason to control my emotions.

MY: This is the first time I've been so... contradictory, chaotic...

His voice became lighter and lighter.

MY: The yearning I have for her... is already... an addiction I cannot give up...

[SSR Brewing Thoughts]

MY: Saying you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight was only an excuse, wasn't it? You were afraid I would have a sleepless night because I would think about past matters.

MC: Dr. Mo, you—

MY: I'm really happy.

MY: I won't be sad because of those things, but I truly am really happy.

His fingertips gently caressed my wrist.

MY: A child who has tasted candy would have a hard time enduring the loss. Can I be insatiable and rely on you more?

MY: Or is it that people who are too strong, who don't feel sad, have no way of receiving concern?

MY: Are you... going to leave and ignore me?

There was a hint of pretend grievance in his voice, and also a deep belief and certainty that I couldn't refuse him.

MC: (Too unfair! There's no way to refuse...)

Before I could answer, Mo Yi held my wrist and pulled me even closer to him.

MY: Just stay here, right with me.

Some context here is that he was acting "drunk" in the translation above. Below was the reveal that he wasn't actually drunk.

[SSR Brewing Thoughts]

The bud of feelings needed to be raised with the utmost care, but how could he let it grow strong in an unpredictable environment?

Of course he had to control it himself rather than allowing it to happen naturally.

Just like adjusting the sun and rain when a grapevine was growing, and just like controlling every timing of winemaking.

Furthermore, if someone wanted a grape seedling, which was imperfect to begin with, to produce the desired fruit, to brew the perfect wine, then it needed even more precise control.

Otherwise... just like wine, a small error might lead to serious consequences.

As you can see, the god complex and obsession over control is strong here. He cannot and does not believe to leaving things to random nature. He's not willing to lose this love and will do anything to give him and his heroine a happy ending (unlike his parents).

That's not to say that he HAS to control everything though. He actually doesn't care about the process (nature vs. nurture) so long as the results are good. But, like I mentioned above, he is certainly a master of reducing "risks".

However, and this was the whole point of [SSR Brewing Thoughts], Mo Yi's heroine teaches him that there is a "next time" after failure. She teaches him that, sometimes, the journey along the way is more important than the conclusion and that what's most important is whether or not the person he loves is beside him.

What is extremely touching is how matter-of-factly she tells him that they can just try again if they fail at something. He does not need to chase perfection when he is around her and a lot of his dates are seeing him in various states of failure. Practicing failure is such a relatable thing for us all to learn in life.

Fourth, I am going to repeat myself a little here after these translations but, in my opinion, Mo Yi carries a childlike honesty and purity regarding his emotions. The thing that makes him so charming is that while he plays these manipulative tricks, he is also extremely blunt about his own emotions. He expresses his jealousy, his possessiveness, his blunders, etc. He wants her to be the only one who can see these different sides of him and perceive his moods when he normally keeps everyone else at a polite distance. The ONLY disguise he wears is a flimsy one that hides what, in his eyes, are the "ugliest" sides of himself because he doesn't want his heroine to hate him; but he doesn't hide the fact that he has these ugly sides at all.

Fifth, basically, go ahead and fall in love with Mo Yi! He looks dangerous and he sort of is (extremely grey morality, does not adhere to the Hippocratic Oath, literally amassed power to have the choice to do what he wants, and uses his own scale of judgment, but that's another essay for another time) but he is never dangerous to you and is just as invested in this love as you are.

I suppose one thing you do have to watch out for is his arrogant god complex and believing he knows what's best LOL.

[Personal Route Ch.3]

MY: Because the mother eagle knows that, only after experiencing the pain and torment of a broken wing, the young eagle will truly have the ability to soar in the sky.

MY: Although this is just a metaphor that is somewhat different from reality, when it comes to her...

MY: This is the path she chose and, not only will I let her walk on it, but I will also let her become the most dazzling presence on this road.

MY: But, Constable Yan, you should know better than me what sort of end most people who pursue light in the chaos have.

MY: So, to recognize the darkness in front of her and face it directly is something she must learn.

MY: If she was always huddled under the wings of others, then her road would end here.

YW: But aren't you afraid of something happening by chance?

MY: "Like an eagle that stirs up its nest, that flutters over its young, spreading out its wings, catching them, bearing them on its pinions."

MY: Since I chose to do this I naturally have enough certainty. Besides... I am here, so who could hurt her?

However, this is not a one-way street and the same goes for the heroine and what she can do to him. In fact, I am going to end this essay with one of my favorite quotes ever in this game (even still to this day), because it honestly shows how Mo Yi fell in love with the dazzling justice the heroine upholds and how he will accept anything of her.

One thing he says in a beta PV, the prologue of the game, and [SSR Border of Light and Darkness] is that he hopes she can stick with the choice she makes, even if it runs counter to the world and everyone is against her.

So, anyway, the context of the quote below is important because [SSR Dangerous Invitation] is essentially a microcosm of their relationship. They roleplay a locked-room mystery and, in the end, the heroine chooses to throw Mo Yi (her lover in the game) into jail because he's a murderer (even though he did it for her). She chooses the truth and her version of justice over them living together in a lie (by pushing the blame to someone else). Before the lover is executed, he writes one last love letter and this is what Mo Yi reads out to his heroine at the end of the date.

[SSR Dangerous Invitation]

MY: Perhaps what he was infatuated with was this kind of you.

MC: !!!

Hearing his words, I looked up in astonishment.

Those gold eyes suddenly became profound and intense. I couldn't understand his emotions, only feeling that I was about to fall into his eyes.

The noisy wind and the voices of people on the long street gradually faded away at his words.

Only my heartbeat remained in my ears and the last love letter the duke wrote to the viscountess before the gallows that he read out slowly.

MY: "I will always open wide my arms and accept all your beauty and cruelty."

MY: "I hope that you will, with this heart, embrace the one and only truth you pursue."

Sorry, I can't resist finishing off by saying some more sappy words but, again, Mo Yi is just a simple man who wishes his first love to be his last love and he's so invested in this love. You are the once-in-a-lifetime stirring of his heart.

[ginazmemeoir]

so i was inspired by @h00man-bean and here you go with a fic about Kaz and Inej as the Devil and the Reaper.

tagging @h00man-bean @mango-pickle @carmen-riddle @the-fault-in-our-inquilab @momo-all-the-way @gopikanyari @aadyeah @reddish-green-personality @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @dragonfairy1231 @totallyforgotyouwerehere @a-dragon-under-the-stars @taareginn

I crash into consciousness. The sound of gurgling water and rustling leaves greets me as I stand up. Strange. The last time I was alive, I had arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair. All Nina could do was slow mine and Inej’s death. I remember the last breath I drew, the last thought I had, the last time I saw Inej smile. And then nothing. Just an empty void, just – not being anymore.

I look at myself, flex my toes. It appears as if death has returned my old skin back to me, but it still doesn’t look like mine. This one is clear as if it was tended to by a Grisha tailor daily, as if the man who bore it had never worked a day. I am wearing the suit I stole from Pekka Rollins, decorated with a genuine gold pin showing a crow with a lion’s head in its claws. My cane lies beside me along with my hat. Either I am in a coma and am dying a slow, painful death as many of my enemies wished, or I have woken from a dream and nothing that I know happened, never really happened. I would rather prefer the first. Then, I see Inej.

She stands there in her captain’s uniform, the teal coat Sturmhond gave her, coupled with breeches and boots. I bet her knives are still tucked there. Her skin, still the same gleaming bronze, is now wrinkle free. Her eyes are kohl rimmed, and her ink black hair spill onto her shoulders. She looks at me with confusion, her eyes searching. “Kaz?” she asks. I move toward her, and then run. Funny how a good leg is almost as useful as a grisha crafted cane.

I clasp her hands in mine, her breath caressing me. “Inej,” I whisper “What are we doing here?”

“You’re both dead actually.” says a voice behind me. I turn around to see a Fjerdan merchant approaching us. He wears a blood red coat with gold lapels. His blonde hair is slicked back, and he walks with the cool confidence of someone who just cracked a deal. The only thing differentiating him from a Kerch businessman that I once looted is that he’s surrounded by floating rocks. Inej immediately kneels beside me, and nudges me. “Sorry but I have a bad leg. Also I don’t bow to animated turkeys.” I say as I go and retrieve my cane and hat. The Fjerdan chuckles and replies in heavily accented Kerch, “I suspect that bad leg excuse is of any use to now, Kaz Brekker. Also, please get up Inej, you look extremely out of place bowing to me in a teal coat.” Inej gets up reluctantly, and when she does, she has… tears in her eyes?

“Sankt Demyan of the Rime, thank you for protecting me.” She says, and hands him one of her knives. “Ah. How poetic.” He says, and pockets the knife. That is when I realize that we, in fact are dead. And Inej’s saints, are in fact, real. Great. There goes my ten thousand kruge. Thankfully the rest of the Crows aren’t here or I would have ended up as quite literally, a bankrupt soul.

“How many times have I told you Demyan to let me welcome the visitors? You’re hardly a gracious host, let alone a good gambler,” says a Shu woman, as she walks in behind Demyan, along with a Suli girl. The Suli girl was surrounded by floating rocks as well. She looked at Inej, and smiled at her. “And now, I would like those gold buttons of yours.” Says the Shu woman.

Inej hastened to remove her own lapel, a dragon and a fox, when the woman stops her. “I’m not talking to you Wraith, I’m talking to Demyan. We had bet that Kaz Brekker would kick him in the balls when he first arrived. I however had gone for a scathing insult. So seems like I won.” She says, and takes the gold buttons that Demyan removed (albeit while grumbling) in her slender hands. “Sankta Yeryin of the Mill, and Sankta Marya of the Rock, I- it’s an honour to meet you.” says Inej, and proceeds to bow more times than she has apologized when she was alive. I am shocked to see the way these so called “saints” milk Inej’s “devotion”. She was the closest thing to a saint that people actually had down in the mortal realm, and I would rather have kicked Demyan in the balls than let Inej bow again. But I restrain myself for the sake of my jaan.

Inej gives two more knives to the women, and stands beside me. She looks like a ridiculous schoolgirl, all giddy as if she had met her favourite aunts, and I catch myself falling in love with her all over again as a dead soul. Demyan soon interrupts my thoughts with that sinuous high-pitched voice, and asks, “I see you’re unusually quite today Dirtyhands. What’s the matter?” “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m wrapping my head around the concept of not existing physically anymore. Also I’ve heard you carry your belongings with you to the afterlife, so where’s all my gold?” I reply. Yeryin chuckles, her slit eyes crinkling while Marya looks at me in disbelief. Her voice, booming like a mountain echo, repeats what she, and countless others back in the mortal world, including my wife, thought each day, “Have you no honour Kaz Brekker?” I just shrug and adjust my hat.

“Anyways, ah, back to the topic at hand.” says Demyan, as he walks towards a tree. No wait, the tree. It could easily be as tall as a mountain. Five springs gush forth from its roots, and a heart is suspended from thorns right in front of a tear in it. The heart with the thorns I remember from the most epic heist of my career, involving legends and the Ravkan monarchy. The tree I do not. Inej asks, “Mind me, O great Saint of the Dead, but could you please acquaint us with our surroundings?” Wow. That’s a lot of vocabulary from a woman whose last sentence, in my memories, is complaining how the medicine she gave me smelled like rat fart. “Oh yup that’s Djel. Or rather his ash tree. Quite popular with my countryfolk.” he says cheerfully. “And we’re here in a mountain in the Sikurzoi, in a different plane of existence. For you, are dead.” he continues, with that ridiculous smile of his. Marya then steps forward, her voice slightly less enthusiastic, giving me the feel that this is all probably quite rehearsed for a while now. “You are a long way from home my loves. Kaz Brekker, you died a natural death. Inej Ghafa, you also died a natural death. Both of you were a hundred and thirteen years old, with Inej dying within a year of your death. The form you have now, is the form you chose to be remembered as.” she says. Yeryin huffs past us, her robes billowing, and hands the buttons over to Demyan, raising up her hand to his face and showing a symbol that quite contradicts with the Saint of Hospitality. “I should have expected such from you, you merchant scum.” she says. She then turns to directly address us and says, “Enough introductions though. The real reason you’ve been brought here is for another reason entirely. You see, the souls of the dead…”

I roll my eyes as the Sankta prepares for another lecture about how our “feeble human brains can’t comprehend the world.” I regret having married Inej in this moment in the afterlife though. Dirtyhands would’ve conned them by now and found a way back to the mortal realm. Kaz Brekker on the other hand, sits on the grass like a five-year old listening a story. Inej sits beside me, her coat now lying beside her in a heap and her hair fluttering open. How I wish I could’ve seen her in the open sea like that.

“…are usually brought to the other sides of the tree.” Yeryin says, waving her hands in an elegant motion to summon up a throne made out of the river pebbles and rocks, confirming that the trio were all, in fact, Fabrikators. “There, they are all assessed in context with their deeds on earth. Everything that they’ve gone through, and everything they’ve done is all taken into account by the Saint of The Book.” She then points to a woman, invisible until this point, sitting near the tree. She bends over a desk, poring over a giant ledger and surrounded by thick books. Her thick blonde hair covered her face, her glasses perched on her wide nose, and her fair, plump skin flushed. “The three of us then decide their fate in the afterlife. Those, who we decide are ‘good’, enjoy the fruits of paradise for a while and then return to the making at the heart of this world. Those, who we deem ‘bad’, are impaled on the thorn wood until they are purged of their sins. They then bathe in one of Djel’s springs, and return back to merzost.”

“Yeah but why are you telling us all of this? We get it, we’re dead, so which way are we going?” I ask the Saints. Inej elbows me once again, scolding me with her eyes. I shrug, and stand up with my cane. “Unless you have something else to tell us, I would like to take your leave. Saints.” I start to walk, when I find myself tripping over. I right myself with my cane just in time, and see that my hands and feet are bound by vines, Demyan’s hands raised up. These saints want a taste of Dirtyhands? Fine. I will show them Dirtyhands.

I see Kaz’s demeanour change. He slips into the familiar garb of Dirtyhands, his eyes cold as flint, lips slightly pursed, standing like the King of the Barrel. I get into a fighting stance, my heavy coat no longer obstructing me. I feel the presence of my remaining knives, regretting handing over the rest. I respect my Saints, but nobody, and I repeat nobody, touches my husband and escapes alive.

Marya stands immovable, her eyes gazing at something in the distance. Yeryin clasps her hands, and states, “You came here at our wish Kaz Brekker. You leave with our wish as well. No need to reach for your knives Wraith they won’t serve you here.” I feel a tug inside me, as if someone is yanking on my leash. Before I know, I am pulled back, my breath knocked out of me, and I crash into a wooden chair. Kaz suffers a similar fate beside me, and I can see his anger barely in check. “Why are you doing this to us?” I ask Marya. She glances at me, her eyes tearful, and replies, “Because we’re tired Inej Ghafa. Because you’re now, the new gods of death.”

Great. We’re the subject of a cruel joke by the Saints and are being tortured for our sins. “We don’t want anything to do with you or your jobs. Just release us and march us over to the thorn wood, I’m ready to answer for my crimes.” “Oh you silly girl, we won’t kill our scapegoats, will we? Isn’t that right my fellow sisters?” Demyan says in his ridiculously cheerful manner. That smile takes me back to the West Stave, Heleen bartering over me with the slavers, her sinuous smile each time I resisted her. I eventually did track my slavers, although only Kaz knows of their fate, for he was the one who insisted on having them. Demyan then comes over to us, and the Saint of Death’s face becomes morose. He kneels in front of us, as if pleading with us, and says, “You see, we’re linked directly with humans and grisha. Death. Hospitality. Pathfinder. Our roles were fundamental to the balance of the world, to the smooth passage of souls and justice in the afterlife. However, seeing the Starless One return back to merzost, seeing Juris merge with the Dragonqueen, has made us realize that we thought impossible, was actually just – improbable. You would certainly know about that, wouldn’t you Dirtyhands?” Demyan glances at Kaz, his eyes moist, while Kaz looks at him unflinchingly. Weren’t the Saints destined to perform their duties? Then why are they looking for scapegoats? Demyan comes back to me, his tone rushed as he blurted out his plan. “We long to be free Inej Ghafa. We too long to return back from where we came. We too long to feel.” Yeryin and Marya then float over to us. “A Saint that dispenses justice, must have suffered injustice to be accurate in his judgements. He should be immovable, yet sensitive to the souls he receives. Kaz Brekker, you have shown us the resilience and fury of a Saint.” Yeryin says. Marya then glances at me, and begins, “Jaan, you’re one of my own people, and so I hold a special place for you. The Saint that is the Reaper, who brings over the souls of the dead, must kill without remorse. Must feel for each soul with all of her heart. She must be indiscriminate in her search.” “And you Inej Ghafa have shown us that heart.” Demyan finishes, clasping my hand. “The part is yours, should you keep it. However, remember, you must take it up with free will, for handling the deceased is a far more tedious and draining task than it sounds.”

I look back at Kaz. His eyes are focussed on the ground, his brain coming up with another wild scheme. I look at the Saints with disbelief. All this time, as I, as millions, prayed to them, honouring their martyrdoms with festivals and prayers, the Saints just longed to be human. Kaz finally speaks after what feels like an eternity. “I have a question. Are the Saints willing to answer that?” “But of course. That is the least we can do for you.” says Yeryin.

“You might’ve come across two souls in your eternal career. Jordie, and Pekka Rollins. What fate awaited them?” I ask hesitantly. I am both excited and afraid of the answer the saints hold for me. Marya looks at the Saint of the Book. She rises, and comes towards us, a small register in her hands. She hands it to Marya, and returns back, giving me a not-so subtle side look. Marya searches for the names I asked, clears her throat, and begins. “Pekka Rollins, the leader of the Dimes, a gang in the streets of Ketterdam, was impaled on the thorn wood. He was purged of all his sins, and then chose to return back to merzost. As for Jordie, your brother, he did not choose to stay for long.” I look back at Marya. “His soul… was tormented. Even though he was healed with the waters of Djel, even though we helped his soul discover his unknown gift as a Grisha Tidemaker, he kept searching this garden for you. In the end, he chose to take a single bite of Djel’s fruit, and returned back to merzost, finally at peace.”

Jordie’s fate stuns me into silence. Pekka Rollins snatched our life on Earth, but even in the gardens of paradise my brother kept searching for me. My vision blurs, my brother’s destiny opening a well of sadness in me, his peaceful return to merzost the only respite offered to him. This was the place where Jordie’s soul searched for me. Where he waited and waited for me, until he dissolved back into the heart of the world. And this is where I would choose to stay for eternity, the only place that holds my brother’s peace. I look at Marya, and nod.

Beside me, Inej grasps my hand, and smiles. She then looks down at Demyan, and says, “We will take up the mantel of your duties, O Revered Saints.” I roll my eyes. It’s as if Sturmhond’s vocabulary worms it’s way into Inej’s brain each time she talks to her saints.

The saints all look at each other, then smile and open their arms. “Our powers, are then yours, Wraith and Dirtyhands.” Golden rays, the colour of sundried wheat and barley emit from Yeryin. Ink black waves surge from Demyan while a shower of dirt erupts from Marya. The three slowly disappear, probably to a much better place. The knives Inej gave to them clatter on the ground.

Inej picks up her coat, dusts it off, and shrugs it on. She picks up her knives, touching them to her forehead, and wipes them on her sleeve. “So what do we now?” she asks me. “Well we’re here for eternity, alone, at least till you go off to bring our souls. Let’s have some fun.” I say and suggestively smirk. The Saint of the Book widens her eyes in horror as she looks at us. “Oh keep it in your pants, you perv.” I say, as I give a big shout and run towards the gentle slope along the riverbank, Inej’s soft padded boots following me, as we both tumble into each other and hurtle to the earth.

[sohin-ace]

Dio - Silence

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

It was a late afternoon in the country side, Dio was taking a stroll to calm down his nerves, still thinking about his earlier altercation with his adoptive brother, Jonathan.

Him and Jojo got into yet another fight, and when Dio thought he could teach him a lesson, the Joestar heir proved himself to be much stronger and determined than he was. And this pissed Dio off greatly. His stomach and jaw still hurt from the hard punches and kicks he received.

"Tch! That Jojo!! How dare you humiliate me like this..." He growled in deep frustration.

The blonde huffed, punching a nearby tree, getting angrier and angrier by the second, the more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"I'm not going down so easily, believe me Jojo... First was your girlfriend, then your dog, next in line will be your father, I won't hesitate... You damn wimp, I won't stop until I make you cry tears of bloo-"

He immediately cut himself off after hearing a creak, like someone stepped on a dried leaf. Dio abruptly turned around, tensing up, but saw nobody as he did.

"Who's there? Show yourself before I find you!" He called out, warning and threat tainting his voice.

He was greeted by a deafening silence, which added even more to his current rising anxiety. His patience was already running low, and now of all time, he didn't want anyone to spy on him.

"I swear If you don't come out now I'll make you regret even stepping outside in the first place!"

Not even a second before he finished his sentence, he saw a H/C haired figure darting away from behind a tree, and, without a second thought, Dio sprinted after her. He of course, was way faster, and easily gained on the girl who was running for dear life.

He swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest, locking his strong arms around her smaller frame to prevent her from slipping away.

The young girl yelped in surprise and started thrashing around in his hold, desperately trying to free herself.

She was panting heavily, both from running and from fright of what he would do to her. She struggled and squirmed against him, but his hold on her was like steel and he barely budged. He pinned her wrists against her own chest, caging her.

"Stop moving, you damn woman." He grunted, tired of her useless fight.

"L-let me go or I'll scream!" She cried in a fit of panic.

"Then do. Knock yourself out. See what good it does you."

He only squeezed her more against him in response and she gave up struggling as she was already exhausted from running. She was so scared and desperate, tears threatened to well up in her eyes and she sobbed quietly through heavy breaths.

As Dio thought she would finally cooperate she let out a shrilling scream.

"HELP!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME! I'M BEING RAP-HMMPHH!!" The male covered her mouth before she could finish her incriminating sentence.

"Shut up or I'm really raping you." He sharply hissed against her ear and she flinched at his, way too serious to be messed with, tone.

The girl then calmed down, hoping the strong and crazy man behind her would release her as she couldn't breathe and was uncomfortably pressed against his solid chest.

He however kept her there, only removing his hand from her mouth carefully, trusting her to not scream again, and fortunately for him, she didn't. She only panted, trying to calm herself down a little. Before she could ask him anything, he beat her to it.

"What did you hear?" He asked leaning over her shoulder to stare at her intimidatingly.

She looked down, avoiding his sharp vermilion gaze. In this state, emprisonned in his arms and defenseless, she could only answer the honest truth.

"I... Everything..." She shakily answered.

"Hmmmm...." He purred and leaned in close to her ear. "What do we do about this then...?" He huskily breathed, tickling her skin and sending shivers down her spine.

She was terrified, but she couldn't let him get away with whatever he planned to do. She either had to play it safe or act even crazier than him to gain some time which is something she wasn't ready to do now..

"Wh-what is there to do...?" She softly muttered, not trusting herself with confident decisions just yet. He chuckled darkly.

"I'm giving you two options." He moved slightly to secure his hold on her, giving her gentle squeezes that were not reassuring in the slightest. "You either nicely keep this to yourself like a good little girl, or you play it the hard way and I have to dirty my hands." He said, crazed yet calm at the same time.

She tensed up. He spoke with such a soft and velvety voice, it absolutely did not match his awful words. This man in himself was uncanny and this made the young girl's stomach churn. What to do?

She couldn't believe his words. He was actually blackmailing her. She didn't want to be here in the first place, she wasn't even spying, she just so happened to be there at the wrong time and place. But now she knew of Dio's evil plan and couldn't just ignore it, as everyone knew that whatever Dio yearned, Dio acquired.

She however couldn't just let it go like that. She was scared to death, but she had to try. Even if he hurt her, she had to do something. To help Jonathan and his family. In a moment of unfound bravery, she negociated, not without a slight wave in her voice.

"What is there for me if I listen to you?"

"Huh? You talk quite fast for someone in such a delicate position." He smirked running one hand up her waist and resting it dangerously right below her breasts.

Her heart jumped in her chest and she gulped. What was he doing now? She tried her best to ignore it and keep her composure, but the blonde wasn't even close to being done toying with her.

She was already burning with stress, and he only made it worse as he inhaled and sighed on her neck, making her skin crawl, all the hairs on the nape of her neck standing.

"I actually never noticed... You smell delicious Y/N..." He said nuzzling her neck and her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer.

"L-l-let me go Dio, please... That's enough, stop!" She squeaked and shut her eyes tightly, losing her composure again.

What was she supposed to do? He was pushing on her buttons and she was helpless. She couldn't fight him at all. All of this for her silence? Negociating and gaining time was useless at this point.

By some Godsent miracle, a carriage parked not too far from the two teenagers and a man dressed in a dark suit, probably a butler, called out to Dio to come back home.

The blonde, pulling out his best good boy act, released the girl and pretended to smile and bid her goodbye with a wave while running off to the car that was sent out to him.

When he was gone and out of sight, Y/N collapsed to her knees, taking a huge breath, hands clutching at her chest, both relieved and shaken by the ordeal.

"Oh my god, I thought I was going to die..."

Days later she tried her best to avoid Dio at all costs and wanted to warn Jonathan without giving herself away, afraid of the potential repercussions that telling the truth to him could have on her.

Dio on the other hand, acted unusually sweet towards her whenever he saw her, which totally contrasted the way he treated her back when he found her eavesdropping.

She was walking home from school and didn't notice the blonde boy coming towards her, accompagnied by what seemed to be two friends or minions, whatever they were called.

When she looked up and noticed him, she pretented to not see him and avoided eye contact, but the tall male came in front of her and effectively blocked the way.

"Y/N dear, how are you today? I hope you are not avoiding me?"

The girl looked away and didn't say anything, clearly not in the mood to confront him. He came closer to her and took out something from behind his back.

"Listen, I apologize for what I did last time. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me. I got a bit ahead of myself." He offered a beautiful red rose and she couldn't help but be astonished by its beauty.

She delicately took the flower between her fingers, careful to not hurt herself with the thorns and brought it to her face to smell its mild scent. The girl blushed at the unusual, but charming gesture and Dio smiled at her reaction, satisfied with himself.

"Thank you..." She uttered and quickly walked off, not wanting him to see her reddening face, even if it was too late.

One of Dio's friend stared at the leaving figure, confused. "Huh? That's it? That's not going to make her shut up about what she heard."

"Oh don't you worry," Dio smirked. "This is only the first step."

Another day, Y/N was sent by her mother to the city to buy some bread and fruits. Too focused on counting the fruits inside her basket she wasn't looking where she was walking and didn't see the diligence that was speeding towards her.

"LOOK OUT MISS!!!"

Startled, she looked up and saw the vehicle and the neighing horses dangerously close to her, hovering over her helpless form, but before the coach could hit her, she was abruptly yanked back by the shoulders, and fell on someone's chest with a yelp of surprise.

The basket fell out of her hands and the fruits came rolling out of it as the diligence kept on advancing past her, padding sounds of horses running fading in the distance.

The male who saved her gently held her shoulders as she was pressed against him and she slowly opened her eyes, realizing what had just ocurred.

"Aah! I'm so sorry sir! Thank you so much for saving me!" She frantically said. But when she looked up she was met with familiar amber eyes staring down at her and she gasped.

"Be more careful, Y/N. What will I, Dio, possibly do if you die on me?" He lectured in a fake caring voice.

She pushed herself out of his embrace and crouched down to pick up her fallen fruits. Dio then followed suit and helped her.

The girl was beyond confused and almost creeped out at the boy's attitude. It was like Dio Brando was a completely different person. In another context, she would have thought it was charming and sweet, but knowing him, and with what happened only a few days prior, it was almost scary.

"What do you want, Dio?" The girl spat warily, her voice cold and he raised his glance at her.

"Hm? Whatever do you mean?" He feigned innocence as he handed her the last apple of the bunch.

"Why are you so nice to me...?"

The blonde boy chuckled and softly smiled at her. "Can I not be nice towards a beautiful lady?"

"...You are trying to buy my silence, aren't you?"

They both got up and the tall male's expression darkened visibly, careful of her next words. Damn, she was smarter than she looked.

She sighed heavily and glared away from him. "Don't fret, I didn't tell anything to Jojo, and I won't. Just leave me alone." She balanced the basket on her arm and hastily continued. "Thank you for the help today. Goodbye."

She walked off and he stared at her back, her ice cold tone still ringing in his ears. He smirked viciously and mumbled to himself.

"Oh it's not about Jojo anymore, don't worry lovely Y/N. It's about you playing cat and mouse with me and foolishly thinking you can win..."

I don't even have author notes for this asshole. Burn in hell, Dio you two-timing hussie.

[rangarlamamicado]

"When You Wish Upon A Star”

A Nuts & Dolts RWBY Volume 8/9 Dream Sequence Vent Fanfic

//context: Ruby is having a dream between when she fell into the void with Neo, and when she wakes up on the Beach with everyone else. As for the nature of this dream, read the description below. //tw: Vent Fic, Suicidal Thoughts/Actions, Nihilism, Despair/Existential Dread (Don't worry, it has a happy ending, nobody dies I PROMISE) //description: In this dream, she is at the end of her journey having defeated Salem and Cinder, and having moved on to a peaceful life of solitude as one of the Heroes of Remnant, she experiences a feeling of emptiness and dread having lost so much to get here, including some of the things that may have been what she needed to find motivation to keep going. However, a miracle presents itself because of her faith. Just what will Ruby experience that could possibly change her mind from giving everything up now that she believes she's fulfilled her purpose? //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// "When You Wish Upon A Star" by Rangarl It had been forever. Finally, after what felt like years of turmoil, revelations, and mind-shattering conflict and efforts, though she was at the end of her journey, and though the world was a safer place, Ruby Rose was always reminded more than anyone else that she had lost two of her best friends along the way. She knows there wasn't much she could have done, but it wasn't something anyone else could relate to, expect a select few equally closed in and impacted allies... Though, despite the tragedy and losses of these close-minded warriors of the heart, one in particular she was lucky enough to meet one more time before fate took her away from her for good. Ruby indeed had many regrets about Pyrrha, though she never knew her as well as Jaune, as for her other friend she had this experience with, though Ruby blames herself, she mainly wishes she had never roped this one pure soul into all of this in the first place. Of anyone, she missed Penny the most, and Ruby surprisingly found herself in the position Penny had been in before she met her; Wishes gone unanswered despite the sheer silence of the universe to her plea, no matter how impossible it was regardless... Loneliness in a world where not a soul could compare to what she had known before it came crashing down... It was just as Penny had told her how she was before Ruby introduced herself into her life, and now it was too late. She couldn't have done anything about it. In fact, she felt partly responsible for having made her so weak as a real human soul compared to her unfeeling shell earlier on... was it worth just one hug and no goodbye? Of everything, though everyone had happy lives they could return to such as the happy couple of Yang and Blake and their lifestyle of symbiotic support and understanding for what they had been through, Ruby felt alone. She had shut off Weiss and Uncle Qrow if they ever tried to get in touch with her, and it came to a point where her depression became too compelling of a force against those she knew who had been looking out for her. All she could do was sit at the windowsill and look at the stars as if she were looking back. She would talk to her every night when she would be all alone, and she would tell her how she feels and that she misses her. She apologized for everything every time she could think of a regret, and prayed that she would forgive her wherever she was... As for Ruby herself, her day to day life was distant from others when making her rounds at best and shut in all day at worst. Though they were celebrated heroes, due to the requests of immediate family they were all promised regular civilian lives... however, life could never be the same as it was when she felt a sense of purpose, a world to save and people to help her keep going... If Ruby couldn't have the one she felt closest with, the one who understood her more than anyone, and if she couldn't be as close with anyone else knowing that there was only one person meant for her to share life with, being the girl who not only was more human and polite than anyone she had ever met, but had the least chances to truly live since others saw her as a machine... she truly was more than anyone could've prepared themselves for, and she was too good for this world more than anything. Penny had told her in the last days that she saw her before the tragedy that she'd never told anyone except her that she'd been praying for someone to bring her out of this rut she'd been in for all of her life, that she had never realized that what she had that resembled emotions could be understood so fluently by someone as equally willing to be understanding as Ruby. Ruby never realized until the last hug everyone and her got from Penny that when she could finally understand how she felt, her heart was in complete agreement with her soul that these emotions weren't just part of her programming like everyone thought. It was way, way too much. Ruby had reached a breaking point. Without her, she realized that now that the world had been saved, aside from what had been taken from her, and the death and destruction that had plagued her heart up until this point, corrupting her soul without such a pure ray of light in her life, she wished more than anything to be with her. Ruby looked in the mirror with herself, and with a part of her mind reminding her of what she had wished she hadn't remembered, the answer held itself out to her. She looked herself into the windows of her soul, silver eyes... A well of power that could vanquish anything she found in the way of her mission if she felt absolute conviction and motivation that what she was doing was absolutely right... it was a power that innately combatted the very nature of the Grimm, who fed off of fear, a lack of conviction or hope... just what she was feeling. But if conviction in a future of no future were to exist, had she become this evil? Would Ruby's eyes vanquish herself? Could she banish herself with her own power to join her best friend if it meant she thought it was the only way out? As Ruby stared, it was the event horizon staring back that greeted her. Hopelessness in her face bred an echo chamber of despair and conviction in a futureless future that held its hand out like a handshake with Death itself. If her eyes of silken white reflect white, yet it represents the opposite if but to vanquish itself, is it truly light? Ruby had no chance to question it, because she didn't want to... but something still beckoned in the back of her mind wondering what life would be like if she didn't stop here... Where would she go? Who would she meet? How? Could anyone be as sweet in a world without danger where everyone is spoiled with peace? Was danger the only answer? It was as if this hand that held itself out to Ruby were a dark side of herself to clash with her light... that was the only answer... yet, it was herself. Her eyes glow now, not with white or black now, but gray, a middle ground as her free will slips into an abyss as she accepted her fate and let her rage and self destruction consume her. It was time. Her halves were ready to become whole as she were to remove herself from this world now that she had achieved her mission so she could be with the one she belonged with. But as she gripped her temples until her nails began to dig so hard that her head began to bleed, she heard another voice. Not in front of her, or within herself, but behind her. "Ruby..." "Ruby... Rose?" Ruby turned from the mirror to face the evening window. She hadn't left it open last she checked... but the moon was never so bright since it could never be whole here. Perhaps today was a lantern festival? She couldn't keep track of the days anymore, so it wouldn't surprise her... ...Yet, afraid someone might be trying to break in, she steps away from the mirror to check it and find not a soul in sight... but she looks up to block the beam blinding her to see that the moon was no longer several tiny pieces dimly reflecting an incomplete whole, but it was one again. Ruby blinks and sees that the moon is just as she remembers, and tonight there indeed were lanterns... but something was off. It's fall, yet the festival of wishes doesn't begin until spring! From this far away, they looked blue like the stars in the sky. They wanted to be one in the same, but could both really grant her wish? Does this mean what she thinks it means? In denial, Ruby slams her fist down on the windowsill, closing the window with a slam of her interal rage as she returns to the mirror having gotten lost in false past hopes, she told herself. However, as Ruby approaches the mirror, she sees somehow that her mirror had broken just like the moon... in the shards she no longer saw her conviction. Something was messing with her... but why? Hadn't she deserved to die? Wasn't she ready? Had she not already accomplished everything she was meant to do in this life? "Please, Ruby." Ruby turned in fear, but nobody was there, she knew it. Something was messing with her. Perhaps her loneliness has finally driven her to insanity. She grabbed a shard of glass from the mirror, causing the other shards to fall from its baseboard at once with a deafening clatter that begged the mind in its very nature to snap. "Who the hell are you?! What do you want from me!? Can't you see all I want is to leave this place?!" Ruby screamed, wielding the glass shard with a grip so hard her palms almost cut themselves, if not her assailant-to-be. Ruby put her back against the wall and made sure nothing could surround her. Nothing was in her room, but she knew looks could be deceiving... Suddenly, however, a pair of hands reach out from the blank space within the realm behind the mirror. However, rather than a grip of malice like Ruby had set over herself in her reflection, it was as if something was freed from within it... to protect her. One hand covered her mouth while the other fought the glass shard from her hand. It was as if it was trying to stop her, but not to kill her. The shard clatters to the ground with a sound that inspired confusion and fear instead of rage like the glass from a moment ago. Then, a clear voice poked itself from the space within, and spoke in hear ear with a whisper that was forceful yet gentle and familiar... what was this? "Ruby...! Please, look what you're doing to yourself! Stop it!" Ruby fought her head back with her neck to see who it was until she saw the face of what she denied more than anything she had ever seen. Ruby freaked out and dropped the glass before falling forward, and scrambling backwards. "No... you're not here... you can't be. You're... n-not alive... anymore. I... I don't want to be haunted like this...! I... I..." Ruby's voice died as she could only fumble, but Penny stepped out from the mirror to stop her from doing anything rash. "Ruby! It's okay now, I've come to save you... I... I saw you here, and I couldn't do anything, but I wanted to stop you... so I... I'm here now." She made no sense, but Ruby, who was clearly older and torn was in sheer shock to see her as young as the day she never got to say goodbye. She had to voice this. "Penny... I... I never got to say goodbye to you... I... I know now what you've felt back then more than any day since you met me..." Ruby slowly got up, Penny had to give her room due to the cramped and messy bedroom, but they managed, despite the sheer denial in play here. "But why are you here? I... It should have been me. I should've been the one to die for you... I've been doing what you told me you did every day since you were gone, just praying you'd be back, but... Why? And how?!" Penny got to one knee, and held her hand out to Ruby. Ruby, confused, takes her hand, and welcomes her to sit, after which she scoots around to her shoulder and sits next to her rather than across from her to help her breathe. She already was exuding unadulterated fluids of regret and longing from every orifice on her face right now, so Penny simply did what she helped her learn. "Ruby, think back. You helped me learn that wishes come true when you want to make a change in your life where fate is unfair, remember?" She turned her head to her broken sunshine. "Penny...! I... I...!!" She couldn't respond, but she knew once it was all over she'd have so much to say, she just couldn't say it. "I know Ruby... you don't need to tell me. You've helped me, in reality, and it was my decision to protect you, so you don't need to regret anything - That's why I'm here, after all. I don't want you blaming yourself one bit, okay?" Penny wraps her arms around Ruby's closest to hers. "Can I ask you something, Ruby?" She closed her eyes and rested her head on her shoulders to calm her, somehow having an incredible effect on her. It was otherworldly, like nothing she had ever witnessed in any of her days of combatting and banishing Salem and Cinder from this world. It was... true. All she had to do was voice herself. "A... Anything! I, why, I'll tell you anything, Penny! Please, tell me! I'd be so happy to hear you ask me anything! Anything... Just one more time, please..." Ruby wanted to cry on her, but she didn't want to tarnish her perfect image, not when this was her only chance to tell her what she'd been waiting to say. "I... I never got to talk with you about how you feel. So Ruby, are you okay?" "What? Of course, Penny! I... I missed you! And I... why, I..." "No, Ruby, that's not what I mean. I... I wanted to know if you're okay because I'm here... is that true, Ruby?" "What?! I... *sniff* I... I've been... no! I've been so alone! You... you didn't deserve to die like that! All I've wanted was to be with you... I would've died to be with you... I... I didn't want to live if it wasn't with you, because all you've ever wanted was to live... how could I?" Penny looks up and looks Ruby in her eyes, using her hand to motion their heads in line of each other. Her eyes were nothing like she had remembered. Penny's eyes were more alive than she'd ever remembered, yet it felt so far knowing she might not get another chance like this. "Ruby... I... I've learned many things since I've been gone. About the heart... about fate, simply watching you fight despite my loss... but all the powers that let me follow you in the first place helped me realize something, Ruby... I..." She paused, taking her hand off of her face and putting it down and facing her head down while her eyes look up at her still... "Ruby... I will never get the opportunity to love anyone... other than you." Ruby's lip began to quiver. "So... I just came to let you know that... I'm going to be your guardian angel. I... I've been given a very important job, and I've been given this one night to tell you everything I wish I knew when I was just a girl... a girl you helped me realize I was all along, Ruby. You gave me this chance... so, thank you." Silence stood for a minute, so with that, Penny slowly got up, and Ruby watched her walk back to the mirror. Ruby had to take every moment she was given to comprehend what was happening, but it was too much for her human mind, even after all of what she had done in every moment to save everyone but her and Jaune's true love. It was a battle against herself, but in a new way, and yet, she had to muster something... anything, before she leaves. Anything. As Penny turned to give her a goodbye, Ruby had gotten up and wrapped herself around her, lips against her own. It was all she knew she could do for her, and she didn't want to risk never seeing her again without telling her what she knew was true even if she tried to deny it. Penny at first was surprised at her action, but it took her no time at all to realize that this is everything that both of them had ever wanted, truly. It was to be understood - no... - To be loved. Penny had Ruby in her arms, and her funny short friend that she knew was still in there all along felt like their soul was finally set free. This was what you would do for a loved one, they both knew, and they reconciled in this truth, casting away all false conviction and remembering this as a reminder for the rest of their lives as long as they may live. Ruby looked up at her slight height difference over her, unsure if things were always this way. All she knew was that she wanted to protect her, and to be protected - Yet, she knew this was always going to be true, and they knew that now. "Penny... thank you so much... I... I love you so much! Please... please come back again! I... I'm so sorry I let you go! I'm so afraid to let you go... I-" "-Ruby, I'm going to be here for you. I... I love you too. You taught me what it meant to feel protected, and now hoping for all I've ever wanted has let me be part of someone I've never wanted to let go... so keep that faith for me, Ruby, and for you too. It's... it's what makes you so beautiful... inside your own heart, and your own soul, just like me. That's what I realize I felt within your heart the first time you told me I was your friend, whether you knew what you meant or not." Ruby hugged Penny again really hard this time, almost like the first time Penny had hugged her, because she knew this might be the only chance she has to tell her how she feels. "I...! I love you too, Penny! I-I'm going to be praying that you come back again one day, and one day that I'll join you! Please look over me, and never let me go, okay? I hope I've proven everything to you, and I'll prove it to you every day I don't see you, even though I'll know you're there! That's... that's all I want" Ruby jumps up and kisses Penny one last time really well in each other's embrace and hold, knowing that they'll never be alone from each other, and they'll look out for each other until the day they'll truly reunite. With that, Penny thanks her with a smile and true laugh, a happiness she had never felt until now either. You could even see the tears on her face, they were true too. Ruby felt at peace, but in a way that would never be shaken, even if she had to save the world all over again in another life, even if it took forever. They slowly let each other's hands go with hesitancy, though they know now that it'll be okay, and they take a breath, knowing everyone breath from now until the end of time would be just as close, for they indeed trust the distance. Penny walks into the mirror slowly, looking back and waving a melancholy happy goodbye, knowing everything would be okay. With that, and a blinding light like Ruby's own Silver Eyes, the mirror mends itself, though Ruby can tell even now that through the slight scars in the reflection of how the glass was mended remains. Not a scar, rather, but a reminder. A reminder of return every time Ruby has ever had her doubts. Ruby stares a moment longer before she realizes her fist is clutching a bow of hers she left behind. Perhaps an accident, perhaps intentional, but Ruby clutches it hard upon seeing it before deciding its time... Ruby opens the front door, and gets on her scroll. Pacing and a walk outdoors on a peaceful evening are all she can ask for now, but she had to make amends, and Weiss picks up immediately. "Hey, Weiss... It's me. I... I think I'm ready to face you and everyone else. I... I'm sorry I left you guys for so long... Mhm... Yea, tomorrow morning sounds good... Thank you, Weiss. Goodbye, and good night." After hanging up, Ruby closes her eyes and takes in the night, sitting on a bench in the campus of the repaired beacon dorms she had now called her home. The air was eerily calm, but Ruby took in the peace the void presents now rather than what she had feared from it earlier. Before long, Ruby feels almost like she's about to find perfect rest... Drawing away into an unfamiliar world and whim, as if fleeting life on the very hope of the true heart, Ruby feels a pulse of energy throughout the cosmos centered on her, as if a supernova were witnessed in her shoes centered directly on her mind... like the world were resetting itself, and all she could do was watch as the infinite depths of space wound in on itself, crashing in on her as this dream came to an end. Then suddenly, a blinding flash of light, and the deafening ringing of silence enveloping it. Indeed, the void beckons, but dawn has risen, now. Lethargy sets in with a heatwave, and before long, the sound of crashing waves lightly on sand. Ruby opens her eyes to the blinding light of two sun's, but Jaune and the rest already seem to have noticed Ruby finally came too and flock around her, blocking the light for her. Their voices all began covering her at once. "Oh my god, you're okay! Goodness, Ruby, it's been hours, we thought you were a goner!" "Ruby, it's me, your sister! I'm okay! We're all here! Neo's here too, but we... we all survived... we... but..." "Ruby... I... I don't know how to put this... I... I'm so sorry." The cacophony of voices was much, but Ruby sat up unfazed... with few words and a glance at their faces, she realizes... "Penny... she's... she's gone, isn't she." Jaune's face becomes pale as he falls to his knees because of this, and quivers into a sobbing fit as the rest of the team try to support him and Ruby, but Ruby is calm. She sits up, Crescent Rose not far from her. She turns her head to the point on everyone's mind, and there she lies on the coast, as if she were fast asleep taking a rest almost like she were just a moment ago. Ruby gets up and walks over to her. Jaune follows, and having been helped up by the gang, he explains that Cinder was going to kill Penny for her maiden powers, and she got fatally wounded, but she asked him to kill her before Cinder so it couldn't happen while Weiss and Blake fended Cinder off. Ruby, however, in her moments just before her rest, as if having prepared her for a future she had yet to face, and maybe even prevent, Ruby shed no tears. Ruby knelt down to Penny, and took her hand. Ruby then found it, the bow in her dream, clutched in her own hand. Ruby was shocked to see this, others not noticing like she had or even not at all, Ruby decides to place it in her palm before closing it. "I'll keep praying for you like you did for me. You are my guardian angel, and I know you will be here for me, Penny. If you can really hear me, just know that... that I love you." Ruby then leans down and kisses her porcelain face, plush yet cold, but not like steel. She was free now, that she knew. Weiss, Blake, Yang, and Jaune were all shocked by this admission, but they accept it and Ruby's words, and mourn in their own ways. Neo, too, stood feet away, staring, to which Ruby looks up and sees while the rest look at each other and exchange their thoughts on what they witnessed Ruby say and do, as well as their situation. Ruby gets up and walks over to Neo. Ruby is surprised she isn't going after her, but can't help but ask her... "You... you attacked me earlier, but... what happened?" She couldn't respond, which Ruby quickly realized, but to her surprise, she got crafty and began writing out a message in the sand with her illusion semblance. "They told me you told them you didn't kill Roman, that it was a Grimm... I believed Cinder cared for me and my mission of getting revenge at all costs, even when I thought you and I were going to die... but being betrayed began making me question these things... and seeing you mourn over your friend reminded me of how I felt when Roman died. At first I wanted you dead, but now I don't know what I want. All I can ask for is some time alone..." Ruby felt a shocking level of empathy from her, but this empathy stemmed from defeat, so neither really knew, but needless to say it stood for a lot considering she wasn't trying to kill her, and that was all there needed to be, frankly. Ruby, however, felt like she had learned a thing or two, so from now on she felt she would swear an equal level of empathy in reaching her goal, even if it meant triumphing her past evils, and today she felt like starting here. "You might not be ready for this, but we took in Emerald after she came to the same conclusion about Cinder and Salem's double-crossing that you have. If losing a loved one has taught me anything, it's that you and I fought for similar things for opposite sides. All I can hope for now is that you find the peace to overcome this, whether you'd like to join us or not. Good luck is all I can say I guess." "You too."

[sibyl-of-space]

Final Fantasy IX ~ Melodies and Memories

"Jesters of the Moon"

There are a lot of very good video games in the world, but it takes some luck and circumstance outside of a game's control for one to reach me at just the right time(s) and place(s) in my life that it has a tangible impact on who I am -- who I want to be. One that carves out a space for itself in my soul that will never be removed or replaced.

I've just finished playing Final Fantasy IX for the first time, and there's no doubt in my mind that such is the case here.

(Continued below readmore.)

I drew this art last year, when I was mourning my attachment to an old favorite game that I just don't feel the same way about anymore: Majora's Mask. I wanted to draw something that captured my feelings about it, because sometimes art is the best way to talk about something when the words don't want to come.

Why is "Jesters of the Moon," the name of a random song in the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack, plastered in the middle of this Majora's Mask fanart? Especially considering I hadn't even played Final Fantasy IX yet when I drew this?

The reason is exactly that "luck and circumstance" that allowed me to fall so uniquely in love with the game.

"Mt. Gulug"

In 2008, someone on YouTube uploaded a Majora's Mask parody-slash-let's-play series called "Majora's Mask: The Things Which Were Taken Out." The series has since become unlisted and won't be linked here out of respect for the creator who probably doesn't want things they said and made in 2008 being spread all over the internet, but because of Unregistered Hypercam 2 reasons, the series inserted other background music over the video and didn't record the actual game audio.

I didn't recognize any of the music, but I watched these parody videos on repeat because in addition to being funny (...at the time, in my mind, at least), I really really loved the music. It got to the point where I would sometimes be playing Majora's Mask and get disappointed when I approached Goht and the Mt. Gulug theme wasn't playing in the background.

I had forgotten about these videos for a really long time in the interim, but I remembered them at some point when I was thinking about Majora's Mask and I found them again. The creator had cited the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack for virtually all of the background music used in the videos, and I realized that despite knowing literally nothing about the game, I had become really fond of - and weirdly nostalgic for - the songs from it that I now recognized.

So I looked up "Jesters of the Moon" and played it on repeat while I drew out my feelings in colored marker. A few months later, I realized that my backwards compatible PS3 can also play PS1 games, and eBay had FFIX for PS1 at a good price. I had nothing to lose by ordering it and seeing what the source of all that fantastic music was like.

"Vamo Alla Flamenco"

I started my playthrough knowing nothing about what to expect from the game. I'd never played a Final Fantasy game before and my overall JRPG experience has been mostly limited to Tales of, Persona, and more recently, mainline Shin Megami Tensei. The only things I knew about Final Fantasy were a) the Tidus laughing scene, and b) Sephiroth. IX seemed like it had vibes I would enjoy, but beyond that I knew nothing about what the experience would be. So I approached it with a "let's have fun and see how it goes" attitude, naming my party members the first silly thing that came to mind, ending up with "Swaggy," "OwO," "Bitchin," "Gunz," and "SWOOORD" to start with.

(For the record I do not regret those names whatsoever.)

I was immediately struck by how differently the game uses music in comparison to all of my previous JRPG experiences. This was not a game where the composer was given a list of theme songs that were slapped on top of a mostly completed game-- this was a game constructed with the soundtrack in mind as a part of the writing process.

The opening act plays almost like an opera (side note, yes I know one of the other FF's has a literal opera, I haven't played that one): you traverse the same locations from different perspectives as different characters, introducing the cast with lighthearted humor and dramatic irony out the wazoo. While you traverse the city as OwO, OwO's theme is playing in the background, coloring your perspective of the city and the narrative. When you switch to Gunz patrolling around the castle, Gunz's theme accompanies your movement and informs his character and mission. I am so accustomed to "location themes" being the norm in virtually all video games that experiencing character and/or narrative themes as BGM instead while I bumble around town changed my entire perspective on what music in games can do and be.

The operatic feeling is definitely intentional, because the game uses a play-within-a-game narrative device to hit you over the head with its themes in a way that is somehow poignant and artful while also being extremely blatant. That is a hard balance to strike, but it manages. The whole game is like that: it is completely straightforward and tells you exactly what it's about at heart, but it does it beautifully.

At any rate, I was enamored with this intro and had a very fun time, but I wasn't obsessed or anything and ended up putting it down. I spent several months on the first half of disk 1 with weeks passing between play sessions. I liked the game plenty, but life stuff happened and I decided to get obsessed with Dai Gyakuten Saiban and Ghost Trick for a while. No regrettis.

It was already clear, though, that FFIX was going to be special to me. My compositions for my team's game in the Global Game Jam in 2021 were directly inspired by FFIX's opera-like intro. I wrote two character themes for our game that would serve as background music when you play as the two protagonists, coloring your journey differently even when moving in the same spaces. I was intentionally trying to mimic the way music is used in FFIX as an exercise. The themes I wrote are definitely some of my strongest work so far.

(You can check out the game here if you want, I promise it is significantly shorter than Final Fantasy IX.)

"Melodies of Life"

Music caused me to pick up FFIX the first time, and music caused me to return to it. After months of not touching or really thinking about it, just earlier this week I was inspired to play it again, because - again - I listened to the right song at the right time.

I was again mourning the loss of something, in this case a friendship, for reasons I'm not going to share here. I had already heard the song "Melodies of Life" because it came up when I was looking up FFIX songs to reblog on Tumblr a few months ago, and I decided to listen to it again. Even without knowing the game context, the song itself really spoke to me in that moment: "a voice from the past, joining yours and mine, adding up the layers of harmony" - it kind of made me feel at peace with the fact that I had a lot of positive memories of that friendship and I could keep those at heart while also moving on in the present. ...I'm also a sucker for music metaphors, so there is that.

I was really moved by this song, cheesy as it is, and I was also definitely in the mood for a distraction. Picking up FFIX again felt like the best move.

It was, and my life is forever changed.

The game never stopped being beautiful and funny and touching, and the soundtrack never ceased to amaze. I recognized concepts I've seen in other games but never had I seen them used so artfully. I adored the fantasy world and non-human cast, I found myself enticed by random encounter for the first time because it made me feel like I had to struggle to survive a difficult journey. Music, gameplay, visuals, and story felt like one cohesive work of art for the entire duration.

Life circumstances got me to play the game again, but the game itself was so captivating and wonderful that I binged the entire rest of it - disks 2-4 - in less than a week. Everything else that the game had to say, it told me itself, in its own context, and I was ready to listen.

"You're Not Alone!"

This is going to make me sound like an emotionally-stunted twenty-something, but it has been years since a work of media has got me to have a really good cry. I used to cry playing games all the time as a kid but recently I'll find myself getting emotional, sure, often tearing up, but getting completely red-faced and snot-nosed because I physically cannot contain the emotions being evoked by a work? Years. I can't honestly tell you the last time it happened with certainty.

I feel like an emotional band-aid has been ripped off. I was f*cking sobbing during the entire duration of the "You're Not Alone!" sequence. It didn't matter that what was happening was obviously coming from a mile away, because the delivery was so raw and emotional and human!!! A whole game's worth of Swaggy punching first and asking questions later to save his friends, being Protag McProtag endangering himself for others in any and all circumstances, for the payoff of all of his friends forcing him to stop being such a primadonna and let them help him for once. It's true, too! He relies on them just as much as they rely on him! And the game doesn't just tell you this, no, it lets you try to solo all these fights and waits until you realize how boned you are until they come bail you out.

When Bitchin showed up with her "looks like you need a hand" I wanted to straight up yell at my tv. YES I DO!!! YES I DO NEED YOU BITCHIN!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!! I half knew that SWOOORD was going to heal me before I got truly KO-ed but I had been unmercifully wiped in "unwinnable" battles before in this game, so I legit thought I might have to re-do that whole part of the game again, and I was so relieved and thankful when she showed up and healed me.

This moment exemplifies everything that I adore about this game. It doesn't just tell you its story. It shows it to you, it sings it to you, and it and lets you play it out and feel it for yourself.

"Game Over"

This song is all too familiar to me. Gizamaluke's Grotto was very unforgiving for a first-time Final Fantasy player, especially one who didn't happen to pick up Big on the way for a fourth party member early on.

I hadn't heard the piano part in a few months, though, because when I picked the game back up I started just mashing to reload before it got to that point any time we wiped. I didn't hear it again until the game was truly over, this time for good.

I let it play for a while. Not too long, because I have a CRT TV and didn't want "The End" to get burned in. But a while. Enough to meditate on what I'd just experienced, and how I was feeling about it.

There's so much more to say about the game, far more than I could put in a blog post. But I don't think I need to describe these thoughts in words. I can do what the game did, and use music, use art, use stories, use metaphors, and use symbols to communicate what I mean; and hope that someone else is able and willing to listen.

And although a written record of my thoughts likely won't be preserved for all that long, maybe the feelings and the memories will be, so long as they have been shared.

[everythingoesnk]

I love you, John

summary; in the fandom we say brian’s the 5th beatle. well now he’s the 6th bc in this you’re a member of the band. basically you’re in love with john but he’s dating yoko and............. it’s all a disaster

word count; 2 966

warnings; angst at its finest. i’m sorry if u find it trashy but i tried and that’s what counts

********

There was no way you could face this feeling. It damaged your mental health to the point of insufferable anxiety.

Nobody knew about those episodes.

Was it something that you enjoyed, seeing front row how your friendship shattered to useless fragments? Did you look like you didn’t care about how he distanced himself more each time without looking back? Like nothing or no one else mattered? Of course not.

He was alien to the fact he wasn’t the only one suffering.

At least this was the reason you found that made the most sense to his coldness and passively behaviour towards everyone. Or the justification you wanted to believe, refusing to accept that reality was that he didn’t mind everything falling apart.

The tortuous thought that John wanted to see it all reduced to ashes crossed your mind every once in a while.

Paul sighed loudly when he didn’t get any answer from you after calling multiple times. He randomly pounded several piano keys at once, creating a frightening awful sound, then dragged himself to his feet and anxiously left the room.

None of that made you tore your eyes away from John, though.

He was talking to Yoko, who was sitting on the floor beside him, nodding her head as she followed with her gaze what he was pointing at in the music sheet. Occasionally she’d interrupt him to opine. When that happened he would shut up and listen.

John was very polite when asking for thoughts, always open to new ideas and constantly seeking people's opinions on his work.

Ringo’s eyes were glued on you, George noticed, and he knew the drummer was thinking the same exact thing he was. Ringo nodded in his direction and left to find something to eat: you’d been rehearsing for three hours and he hadn't had breakfast in the morning.

"We're all getting used to it"

Outwardly speaking, George's nonchalant-wannabe words had no apparent reaction in you. On the inside, they crushed your soul deeper into misery.

You hummed an ‘approving’ sound to dodge the pressure of having to form a proper sentence.

Concentration back again on tuning the knobs of the guitar, George put his aside on the floor and watched you closely. Then sighed and pressed his lips together.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?”

"The ticking"

Pokerfaced, you stopped your actions to sneak a look at him.

"What ticking?” you asked grimly.

"Yours," he replied, pointing a finger at you. “You’re about to explode”

“We have a comedian in the building, how appropriate” you proclaimed nodding your head at him mockingly.

He grinned and dropped his gaze to the floor before speaking to you again.

“Come with me,” he said, getting up, “I’m craving a smoke”

“I’ll join in a moment. I want to finish writing down a couple of things first”

"Oh yeah?" George wasn’t convinced at all.

He removed a strand of hair from his face. In vain ‘cause it returned shortly to the same place where he’d shoved it away from.

“Yes"

George stared at you, hands on the hips.

Sunk in your seat, you glanced at him too without blinking.

"I’m inspired," you added, one last attempt to make him believe you.

You could try. You could try giving that song you’d been working on a new chance.

"Okay," he nodded, lowering the guard, and kissed your forehead, "you know where to find me"

"Sure, Geo"

You smiled and rapidly shot him a big grin, thumbs held up as well, when he turned around to take a good last look at you before closing the door behind his back.

As soon as he was nowhere around, your smile was found gone.

It was only you, John and Yoko now.

//

It must have been the tenth time that, desperately, you ran your hands through your hair.

Perhaps the problem was you. And you were just exaggerating everything.

But did she have to stick her nose in something that had nothing to do with her?

You didn’t mind her discussing the songs. But never in a million years could you believe she had the ovaries to criticize them. To criticize your work. Paul’s work, George’s and Richie’s work.

Never John’s, though. It must be said to add a little more context to you losing it.

You weren't nosy, but she didn't try to be inconspicuous either.

That bitch’d been talking shit about what she referred to as ‘Ringo’s lame thing’, claiming that Octopus’s Garden was kind of embarrassing and that it didn’t deserve to be on a Beatles record. She didn’t even bother asking about the meaning behind it, the ignorant cretin.

You bit your tongue until you just couldn't anymore.

"God," you exhaled.

Yoko heard your sigh but said nothing about it, bowing her head. She wished John’d do the same, but deep down she knew he’d have something to say.

And of course, he did.

"What's up?" he asked lifting an eyebrow, eyes jumping from you to Yoko and back.

"One gets tired of listening to bullshit" you warranted in a singsong voice, not looking up from the paper and without interrupting your writing.

It took a few seconds for you to get a response.

"Nothing she said was bullshit," John defended, hinting that her opinion was as valid as anyones.

You understood his words differently.

"Rich’s mad excited about it and it’s a great song,” you hurried to argue, this time meeting his stare, “the number of hours and dedication he's putting into it is inhuman. You should know that”

A little –huge— bit of your protective side towards Ringo was showing, but you didn’t care. Octopus’s Garden was beautiful and you’d die defending so if necessary.

"I didn't mean—"

“Are you sure?” you interrupted, turning your body in his direction, leaning in before spitting the poison out, “because lately she seems to speak for you. Whatever Yoko says, there you are giving your approval”

John stood still for at least a minute, momentarily speechless.

Yoko approached him to tell him to forget it and leave before things got uglier.

When you called the conversation off after he hadn’t spoken a word, trying to handle what you just so hostilely reprimanded, you went back to your thing, conscious that you were too unstable and broken to even pick the pencil up again.

Sure you didn’t want him to know you weren’t as strong as you wanted to appear to be, but you had to close your eyes for a moment and exhale after he moved to stand next to you.

He didn’t know the power he had on you. It’d take a snap of his fingers to ruin you for eternity.

“You’ve to fix your shit and get over it,” John grunted, fed up with the constant attacks that Yoko directly and indirectly received. It all got too much to handle.

You laughed in his face.

“Fix my shit? How, John, when the shit’s in the same room?”

John paused again, shocked.

His eyes languidly turned cold and hard.

Could you maybe have gone a step too far? There was no denying. Were you regretful? Not at all. Did your heart, constricted in your breast painfully hindering your catch of air, speed up its pace at the look John was giving you, scared about what he was going to say next? Absolutely.

"What the fuck’s wrong with you? I've had enough of the continuous offences to my wife! Now this?!” he snapped, yelling.

You avoided by all means raising your voice since it’s pretty much known that doing so does not make you any more right. The tone was something you could take control over, unfortunately, it was way more difficult to hide how it trembled.

“If I started to say what I was fed up with we’d never finish the album. And we have to, right, John? The sooner the better,” you challenged in a cold-blooded boost of courage, knowing you were entering a difficult and muddy territory.

The bomb timer George talked about earlier was at its limit.

That John asked Yoko afterwards to leave you two alone was just the appetizer of what was coming.

“(Y/N), you have attitude problems. The way you treat Yoko is horrible and unfair. She just wants to help” he tried to let you know where he was coming from, going back to a more suitable tone to appeal you.

“When we ask her for help, her presence will be welcomed”

“Enough now. Enough, (Y/N)” he shook his head and glanced at you fiercely. You swallowed. "Shit, what the hell’s going on with you and your twisted mind? You’re unbearable"

“Am I unbearable?” you gasped, blood heating your face, and immediately stood up. “You’re insufferable!! Twenty-four hours together like… like… like two fucking creeps!” you screamed, quickly forgetting about the ‘not raising your voice’ thing, gesturing an awful lot to express your irritation.

His expression of disbelief morphed onto one of monumental anger.

"And don't come at me with that ‘attitude problems’ crap. I’m not the only one who wants her out” you lectured in a bitter fit of temper, voice unwillingly shaky.

“If you have a problem with Yoko being around, the door is right there” he answered, pronounced tightness clear in his words.

Your heart sank to the very bottom of the Earth’s core, and the floor beneath your feet started trembling, just like you hallucinated once after dropping acid with Paul: the whole body in an uninterrupted burning perception that you could just blow up and die.

John was unpredictable, but you never expected him to show you the way out. He flushed your feelings down the toilet just like that.

“Damn right the door’s right there. I’m getting the fuck out” you stressed, turning around to leave so he wouldn’t see the sea of tears that started to overflow down your face.

From the very beginning of your friendship, you knew you had a massive soft spot reserved for him in your heart, but as years passed you were assured you were deeply and profoundly in love with every part of him. You adored and cared about John more than you did to yourself, which sounds and is scary, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was the way that it was.

At this point you didn’t even care anymore that he didn’t return the same feelings, you just wanted him in your life one way or the other. His happiness was everything that mattered to you. It’d always remain that way no matter what happened.

John rubbed his eyes and sighed loudly.

“Don’t leave,” he said hopelessly, looking defeated, arms hanging on his sides, “I don’t want you to be mad at me”

“I’M NOT MAD AT YOU, IDIOT!” you exploded, whirling around to face him. “And I hate that! I hate it!”

Tears and tears kept streaming down your face. You knew you were being embarrassingly cringey and you’d punch yourself later for that.

There was no coming back now: the timer detonated and the pieces of your broken heart were all over the place, imaginarily staining the carpet as small volcanoes attached to them kept erupting and painting all red.

An anguish heaving pain in the pit of your stomach and throat was bit by bit killing you.

Nine years. Nine years in love with this man and he didn’t have the slimmest clue about how you felt.

He was about to find out.

John was surprised to meet your bloodshot eyes and quivering lips. He panicked when he saw that tears were also coming out of your nose down to your lips.

“I hate that you could hurt me over and over and that I’d always find ways to forgive you” you cried, and you wished you had a tissue to blow out your nose in it.

John was at a loss of words.

“Because I love you” you wailed, and rolled your eyes afterwards at that because it was so inconvenient and wrong to say it out loud.

In his consciousness, a voice snapped at him to take action and comfort you, but his feet seemed to be rooted to where he was standing. You were so vulnerable and fragile, full body shaking and shoulders tight, air constantly bursting in and out of your mouth, impossible to control your sobs. All because of him.

“I don’t… I don’t…” John struggled, heartbeat racing a million miles per second.

“I know you don’t!” you sputtered, an excruciating feeling that he’d never want to be with you choking you extremely. "Up until now I thought I could live with it, but you keep bringing her here! Why do you have to bring her?” you sobbed, covering your face.

John couldn’t quite tell whether it was your statement and confession what made his heart heavier with misery or the nicotine in the amount of tobacco smoke still hovering in the room, demanding it to work harder.

By the time he felt sorrowness suffocating him, he couldn’t deny it was the first option.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry…”

As he watched you gulp for air, he couldn’t feel more incompetent and clueless.

You compressed your lips so he wouldn’t get to hear you sobbing; turning your back at him to hide your blotchy face, you heard footsteps approaching you.

John went to put a hand on your shoulder and hold you, but you winced and complained, stepping away from him, as if the contact burned your skin.

Staring at him in the eye, you shook your head.

“Do not touch me”

“(Y/N), we have to sit down and talk this through. I cannot—“

“I don’t want to keep talking about it. I said my part and I know what’s crossing your mind. ‘Poor (Y/N), I feel so bad for her, I hope she gets over it soon’. Nine years, John”

He swallowed.

“I’m sure there’s a way—“

“There isn’t! I love you and you don’t love me! What is there to discuss?”

Glancing across at him, you could perfectly see how he cared and how frightened and terrified he was about the situation. You were one of the most important people in his life, and to think that he thought he knew you, but missed what you were genuinely feeling towards him for almost a decade… He felt horrible.

Yoko was the love of his life, but he also loved you with all his heart.

He was sorry that it wasn’t enough.

“John”

George stepped into the room and walked further in to pull you towards him. He'd been watching for just a few seconds, because as soon as he saw what was going on, he intended to leave, at the end of the day it was none of his business, but he knew you needed him and therefore took the decision to end the scene.

Rubbing your back, he whispered in your hair if you wanted to leave. You just nodded.

“Wait, George. I need to talk to her”

“You heard her. She doesn’t want to”

John got mad at him.

“All I’m asking is a few minutes. Don’t expect me to drop it when she’s like that”

Maybe by ‘that’ he meant that you looked like a train just ran you over. Casually, that’s how you felt. If not worse.

You rested your head on George’s shoulder and murmured something about needing to go now because you couldn’t be in John’s presence no more.

“(Y/N), please” you heard John beg.

George and you walked to the door and he told you to wait outside, touching your cheek with a small smile on his lips, encouraging you to take it as an opportunity to calm down.

You obliged, but heard everything they were saying anyway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” John cursed. “Why won’t you let me speak to her? This is serious, please”

John tried to get to the door but George barred the way.

“Are you gonna tell her you love her?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

John stared at his bandmate blankly, the expression of confusion on his face speaking for itself.

“Are you gonna tell her you’re leaving Yoko to spend your life with her?” George continued, making a point that he knew John would understand.

You bit your lip at that and wept silently.

John’s eyes were slowly piling up hot tears.

“That’s what I thought” George spoke in an undertone.

After that, George left him and found you sitting on the ground in the corridor. He took a seat next to you.

Spontaneous sobs and shiverings that you couldn’t hold back happened every now and then. You were grateful that George wouldn’t address them.

“I’m pathetic”

“No you’re not”

“Yes I am” you shook your head and sniffed, feeling lamentable. “I didn’t know I’d end up confessing one day. I assumed I’d carry it to the crave”

Two staff members from the cleaning crew walked by, and you stopped talking. When they were gone, George turned to look at you.

“I believe things happen for a reason and that fate is written. You and John not being a thing may be for the best. It’s gonna be hard, but you have to move on”

“Move on…”

He nodded.

You moved to face him and stared strongly into his eyes. That was it.

“Move on” you repeated out loud as a mantra, staring off into nowhere.

George furrowed an eyebrow.

“Yes…?”

You inhaled and exhaled at the same time that you closed and opened your eyes. Moving on would be the first step to a better stage within yourself.

“I’m leaving”

Puzzlement clouded George’s features.

“Leave… where?”

“The band, Geo. I’m quitting the band”

[netbug009]

What do you think of cancel culture? And what would be a better way to respond/move forward if ‘canceling’ your favorite things are not an option? (Whatever it is the person involved did)

Well, I know the term “cancel culture” is in flux right now, but from the way I have seen it portrayed, I am very firmly against cancel culture.  It’s one thing to distance yourself from things or people that are hurtful or spouting hateful rhetoric, don’t get me wrong, but the problem with cancel culture is from what I’ve seen, it’s always included this attitude that once somebody has made a mistake or said something awful they’ll never be “pure” again. Cancel culture is, from what I’ve witnessed, about keeping a list of past perceived crimes and making sure every person who associates with someone sees it forever, no matter how much the person has changed or even tried to apologize, and don’t get me started on how sometimes perceived slights are blatant lies or screenshots taken very much out of context. I’ve said things and done things in the past that I regret deeply; I grew up dealing with abuse from a family member and some of their poor behavior rubbed off on me, leading me to be at times bigoted and overly-critical of others, but I’ve learned and grown since then into what I hope is a better person. I worry sometimes about “receipts” from when I was younger being used to paint a picture of who I am today, and there have even been a few occasions where I’ve considered deleting everything and starting over because of it. Likewise, I’ve met people who have been extremely hurtful and even flat out abusive towards me, and while it’s tempting to call them out on their nonsense publicly... I don’t know that they’re not capable of growing up too. I don’t know who they are now, or what they regret. If someone new meets someone who hurt me down the road and finds a kind person who treats them better than they ever treated me, isn’t that a net positive?  The problem with cancel culture is when you say redemption isn’t possible, you remove all motivation for someone to even try and redeem themselves. 

(Also... from personal experience, people who cancel others, people think they have never personally done anything wrong in their lives, are the most lost and deluded people of all and the people I’d be least likely to trust as friends. At the very least, they deeply lack self-awareness.) Now, on the other hand, not digging up past nonsense doesn’t mean you have to put up with someone who is actively causing nonsense. I’m not sitting here letting people abuse me because one day they might become better people. If someone is nasty, people not wanting to be around them until the behavior improves is a natural consequence.  But... I also don’t think you should feel guilty if you separate a work of fiction you love from its author/staff? I personally don’t? I know that’s a controversial opinion and there’s some valid points to the contrary, but I’ve always been a big purveyor of ‘Death of the Author’, meaning a work is what the reader/viewer/whatever makes of it, no matter what the creator says about their intent outside of the work proper. If a work itself sends a good message, I don’t put much thought into the unrelated opinions of people who might have worked on it.  That said, IMHO it’s really a personal decision with how comfortable you feel continuing to enjoy the work knowing the author may have made it with some bad intent in mind, and I don’t think anybody should judge anybody else for what decision they make regarding issues like this. There’s a million valid arguments on both sides of the fence, so maybe we should just not assume the worst of someone who sees the issue differently? 

[carlyfrombleachers]

Liveblogging of TS6 (reputation)

Okay. Let me preface this by saying I don’t like Taylor Swift. I think she’s a boring artist, who brings close to nothing to the table. The reason I’m even listening to Reputation is because I keep getting recommended an interview of Jack Antonoff where he talks about New Year’s Day (which is a song on Reputation) and I really want to watch that but I also want to know what the fuck he’s talking about. So here we are. Don’t expect more stuff like this from me. I expect this to be just a one-off thing. Swifties, don’t fucking come after me or I will cry. The only other TS album I listened to was Lover, and I thought it was trash. Absolute garbage. And apparently this one is worse than Lover. I don’t know if I’ll regret this.

Let’s begin, I guess.

...Ready For It?

I keep thinking of that one voice clip from the Hannah Montana intro (?) where you faintly hear a girl say “are you ready for it?” and that’s my first impression just by looking at the title.

I’m hitting ‘play’ right now.

Oh nevermind, I forgot to pay Deezer this month. YouTube it is.

Hey look, Ajay is in my recommended. Queen of reactions.

Help what is this

rockstar taylor??

what the fuck is up with the beat

chorus felt weak. this is my first opinion im not done with the track

i looked at the music video for 3 seconds and i saw a horse bye

i was distracted by the music video help i dont like this

since i looked at the music video for just a lil while i should say it looks weird. it is weird in a bad way it looks like some knockoff cyberpunk thing.

why didnt she just name this “Are You Ready For It?”

I’m... not particularly blown away by this track. It’s fine. I wouldn’t bop to it but I wouldn’t object to it playing somewhere. It’s like... it’s decent.

End Game (ft. Ed Sheeran, Future)

I don’t know who Future is.

she said reputation haha thats the name of the album

ok future is a rapper i dont listen to rap thats why i dont know him

after listening to lover i cant believe this is the same woman this is so weird

not looking forward to the ed sheeran part

“i wanna be your end game” this wasnt really what i was expecting

fuck off ed sheeran (i just reached his part)

according to some tabloid lady gaga mistook ed sheeran for a waiter? i would do the same thing if i saw this redhead fuckface on the street as well lol

“big reputation, big reputation, you and me got a big reputation” so deep!!!

I guess I should take this time to-- is she rapping?

Sorry, I got distracted. I don’t think every song needs to be this huge deep piece that must be deeply analyzed for centuries, but I do expect some interesting message or context for a track at least. If it sounds good, I’d also give it a pass. 

This one? This was boring. I would not verbally object to this playing close to me, I would just have a grossed out look on my face during the chorus.

I Did Something Bad

I keep reading the title in Akasaka Sad’s tune. You know the part where Rina says “A-ka-sa-ka sad, I’m a sucker”? I keep thinking “I did-I did something bad”. I don’t expect it to be like that.

“i never trust a narcissist but they love me” taylor talks about her fanbase

sorry to drag swifties publicly but i will forever take an opportunity to drag a swiftie

predictable antithesis use there with “i did something bad so why does it feel so good” but okay

why was taylor branded a snake again? she pretended it was “””gone””” with lover but like. it’s weird. its not like she punched kanye on stage in 2008 or something. i dont care enough to search for evidence that taylor is a snake so lol go off i guess

dont enjoy the post-chorus part where she’s like drddddddd dddddddd it feels so distracting the gunshots were more than enough

Yeah, this one was fine. My favorite up to this point, I think.

Don’t Blame Me

lol she said “dont blame me” then it buffered bye

i was showering for the past 25 minutes hello i was listening to track 10 and melodrama

i am enjoying this one kinda

“dont blame me love made me crazy” haha wait until you find out what your next era is

“i once was poison ivy now im your daisy” this is a pretty good line honestly

obligatory katy flop moment: haha taylor could hit the high notes in daisy

this sounds like a country song especially in the chorus i dont know what to really make of it

“loooord save me” this is why your female fans are called horse girls

This was... pretty good. The chorus weirds me out still, but it had its good moments. It was nice.

Delicate

stop saying reputation in the reputation album

this autotune voice bits of hers are so distracting

i say as i listen to how i’m feeling now by charli xcx

yes i did just roast myself. gotta leave the swifties with nothing

god the music video for this track has 400m views this woman is making my faves look like indie stars LOL

I keep getting distracted because this song is boring. It’s... okay. I guess. The music video was pretty cute. Nothing caught my attention in the track, but it sounds like gym music. It would play on a gym owned by a 30-something white woman during the yoga classes and you know it.

Look What You Made Me Do

We’ve all heard this song. I’m gonna listen to it and then be done with it.

I guess I’ll just watch the music video.

ONE BILLION VIEWS????????????

Okay. I watched the music video.

Really? All the fem guys dancing with her?

I’m not going to sit here and be like “fem guys are BAD and should all die and never be represented” because… lol. But it is kind of annoying how it was literally just fem guys dancing with her and doing all those faces because you KNOW she was looking for the impressionable gays to go “omg taylor progressive!!!!” and go talk about it on social media.

But am I saying that because I don’t like Taylor? Yes. But that doesn’t make my point less valid.

The music video was pretty good, the production on this track is really good (thank you Jack Antonoff xx) and the track itself is good. Not outstanding or perfect or a serve, it’s good.

Also the ending with all her previous eras? That was cool. The uncool part is most of the “look how rich I am” parts… because we all know you’re rich, Taylor. Nice SFX.

So It Goes…

i got an ad whyyyyyyy

fuck this shit i cant keep up with what shes saying im pulling genius out for this one

this is not lyrically deep i can tell already from genius

im not a fan of love songs i already have CRJ to cover that base and Lorde covers breakup songs I guess and this song is just. boring. lol

Nothing really shocking or noteworthy here, it’s just.. okay.

Gorgeous

I got another ad FUCK

i got a boss baby ad help

god boss baby really was something huh i completely forgot about that

why am i talking about boss baby

okay. reputation

why did a baby say gorgeous

HELP i am so disappointed this is the one track with the lyric video and god this is disappointing

i saw this and i was like “oh shit shes gonna talk about how its gonna be gorgeous when u die” or smth and

lol. LOL. the depth is nonexistent and the bar is in hell

who wrote this? you lied

This song is so boring, LOL. I expected so much from it and was instantly disappointed when the pre-chorus hit. You had everything on your plate and you ate the plate itself. Girl. What the hell. Why. You could’ve given us an anthem about hating your man, and you took the easy route.

Getaway Car

im intrigued

okay im listening and this sounds very jack antonoff? the shotgun thing made me immediately go o_o

it felt a bit weak at the end but at the start i was enjoying it quite a lot… i think this is my fave

I enjoyed this one quite a lot :) It was pretty good but not an amazing masterpiece. It was better than LWTMMD and that’s all I have to say.

King Of My Heart

sounds boring haha

taylor keeps putting these trap beats in things sister youre not lorde LOL

yeah this is kinda boring

WAIT A MINUTE NEW YEARS DAY IS THE LAST TRACK???? IM GONNA HAVE TO STICK UNTIL THE END oh my god please no

i dont. i .. i knew this would be happening but i didnt expect it to be the last one

i guess the timing is accurate ha ha ha ha

i just heard ariana grande

I keep hearing Ariana Grande on this track. Is that good? I don’t know.

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

why are there so many songs in this fucking album

the beat is.. okay. it is catchy

oh i like this i think. its pretty nice

the chorus is nice. yes. i do kind of enjoy this

Yeah, I liked this one. Pretty good writing, and it sounds great.

Dress

wtf is this song why is it so horny

horny taylor is weird stop being horny please

this song is okay i would not revisit it because its just weird. do not like this!!!

when carly rae jepsen says slide on through my window it is funny but when taylor sings i bought this dress so you could take it off i die

oh that second of silence was really good

[looks at the producer] [it’s jack antonoff] :)

This song weirds me out. I don’t like it. It had its moments production-wise but it was... weird.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

I expect good things from this. With a title like that? Give me a bop.

Currently not being a bop.

Okay, it was cute. Nothing amazing. Just… fine. Cute attempt.

oh i liked the spoken part thats what i expected from this song

Call It What You Want

this is about genitalia this is my prediction

It was not about genitalia.

This song is pretty good if you remove all the mentions to her lover and her man and her baby, which are all the same person, I guess.

This is disappointing.

JACK ANTONOFF BACKING VOCALS

I LOVE YOU JACK

umm anyways

OH HE DID IT AGAIN IM GONNA CRY i love this man

I expected so much from this track and the chorus just… disappointed me.

JACK!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! KEEP SINGING!!!!!

i love this man im gonna cry

The highlight of this song is the part where Jack Antonoff sings.

New Year’s Day

wow the reason why im doing this shit

look at him. :)

this song was cute. nothing special. just cute. very okay.

just. okay. yeah. pretty fine.

nothing special.

Final Thoughts On The Album

It was better than Lover.

I expected this to be a concept album, all about the drama she’s gotten into? But it was just boring love songs with some extra flair. I expected great things from this album, having only heard LWYMMD from it before this. A concept album that’s just an answer/clapback to everyone’s who wronged her à la Yellow Flicker Beat (I know it’s for a movie but that song slaps and I don’t know a thing about Hunger Games) would’ve been PERFECT but it was just... love songs. I need Taylor to stop singing about love and start serving us big meals.

I would not like to revisit this. Like, 5/10. It could’ve been a lot better, but it wasn’t because you’re too afraid to cross some lines, Taylor.

Final Ranking:

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Getaway Car

Look What You Made Me Do

I Did Something Bad

Don’t Blame Me

New Year’s Day

Call It What You Want

...Ready For It?

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

So It Goes...

End Game (feat. Ed Sheeran, Future)

Dress

Delicate

King Of My Heart

Gorgeous

taylor flop stream gone now

[akaluan]

Ooooh, for the ask meme - let's see. Erich/Kisuke, 51, 100.

(51: accidentally married, 100: accidentally saving the day)

Erich’s day starts off normally enough, except for the fact that he has to spend time sorting through the mess that his grandson has made of the Quincy supplies. He needs specific tools and books to continue his education of Uryuu and Kurosaki, but Ryuuken has thrown everything into one cramped room and locked the door behind him.

Armor and books and bows are shoved willy-nilly into a space much too small, with ginto and seelie schneider and random ancient Quincy relics scattered about without rhyme or reason. It’s a mess, and a hazard, and Erich really wants to have words with his grandson about the proper care and storage of an entire people’s worth of supplies.

Even worse, Urahara decided to tag along; Erich hadn’t thought it much of an issue at first – he’d thought it would be a quick sweep to find the things he needed – but now… now he was regretting letting Urahara into the room with him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the relics had been stored properly, but they weren’t, and relics were notoriously finicky even when properly cared for, and these weren’t, and Urahara was a curious man at heart–

“This is certainly pretty,” Urahara announced, something jingling as he pulled it free of the clutter. “Impractical, but pretty. Hey, Rerugen-san, what’s this one?”

Erich sighed and straightened up, turning to see what Urahara had unearthed this time. “Wh–put that down!” His heart sank at the sight of the interlinked bracelets in Urahara’s hand and a sense of dread settled in his stomach.

(What were traditional marriage bracelets doing laying loose amongst everything else?!)

(He was going to have words with Ryuuken after this!)

“Maa, what’s so dangerous about a couple of bracelets?” Urahara asked as he lifted his arm higher, the movement making the bracelets chime with a high, clear sound.

“Those aren’t normal bracelets–”

“Well, no, they certainly can’t be worn, can they?” Urahara peered at the relic, running a thumb over the part in his hand, likely in an attempt to find the catch that Erich knew wouldn’t exist. “So what do they do?”

“They’re marriage bracelets.” He didn’t know the specifics, and that terrified him. The Quincy had so many marriage bracelets, each with their own purpose and rules, that it was impossible for Erich to recognize any of them on sight.

“Eh?” Urahara gave Erich a puzzled look and jingled the interlinked bracelets again. “I thought you were supposed to be able to wear anything related to marriage, and these aren’t very wearable, are they?”

Erich ignored Urahara’s question and lunged, aiming to grab Urahara’s wrist so he could force the man to let go before something unfortunate happened. But Urahara leaned back. Lifted his arm higher. Gave Erich a smug little smile and–

Erich’s hand closed over the free bracelet, and he had just long enough to stare in resignation before the relic yanked on his reiatsu and light flared out to engulf the both of them. The metal in his hand dissolved and a band settled around his left arm, its presence terrible and familiar and infuriating in all the worst ways.

(Married to a damn Shinigami of all things!)

(God damnit!)

He staggered back and rubbed the spots from his eyes, hands trembling in reaction and rage, and took a steadying breath. Another. Unbuttoned the left sleeve of his dress shirt and rolled it up–

The metal band sat against the skin of his wrist, one edge gleaming green like his own reiatsu and the other gleaming red like Urahara’s. He could feel the minor draw on his strength, feel the strange press of unfamiliar power against his soul–

He shoved at the band. Slid it effortlessly up to his elbow before it refused to move further. Grabbed it tight and slammed it back down his arm, wincing at the way it jarred against his wrist–

(He hadn’t expected otherwise but… fuck!)

(Married to a god damn Shinigami!)

“Woah, hey, I don’t think hurting yourself is warranted,” Urahara said as he caught Erich’s right wrist and pulled his hand away from the bracelet.

Erich ripped his hand free and stepped back, chin rising and scathing, vicious words crawling up his throat–

Nothing came out. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t shout his fury aloud, couldn’t even step closer or raise his hand. His body was frozen, the bracelet warming against his skin–

“Rerugen-san?” Urahara murmured, concerned-worried-troubled and the incongruity of it… hurt.

Erich took a step back, relieved that the bracelet’s control allowed him that freedom. Rage burned hot-sour-cloying in his chest but he breathed through it, tamping down his fury and turning his gaze to an open box of armor pieces.

(He’d almost– if the bracelet hadn’t–)

(He’d never been an abusive man or given to rage. For the bracelet to label his reactions violent enough to violate it’s anti-abuse clause…)

He swallowed back bile and turned away, shivering as the enforced control faded from his limbs. “Help me find the book on marriage bracelets. It should be somewhere in this damn mess.”

“Of course.”

Erich very carefully refused to look at Urahara as they dug through the boxes, even when the man paused to hand him potential books for him to flip through. It felt like an age passed before they find the book he needed, and the minute they did he gestured sharply for Urahara to follow and left the room; he’d not found what he needed for the teens, but the bracelet issue overrode that.

(He wanted it off!)

Urahara trailed after him, silent the whole way back to the Shoten except for a murmured ‘you can use my lab if you want’ that Erich barely acknowledged in favor of retreating to the room Urahara had given him. He needed to find what type of marriage bracelet they had accidentally triggered, which would tell him how to remove it and what its conditions and clauses were.

Anti-abuse was common to all Quincy marriage bracelets, but there were so many other clauses that could be applied, and so many ways for a marriage to be considered ‘permanent’…

He didn’t want to risk anything.

Erich studied the book, barely acknowledging Urahara whenever the man knocked to check in on him. He was too busy, too on edge, to exercise more than absent politeness.

(He didn’t like what he was finding. Didn’t like the suggestion that he was currently wearing a peace-marriage bracelet, only breakable by actions that neither of them could do.)

(They had no clan elders to declare the marriage dissolved, and the only other way out was for one of them to attack a member of the other’s Clan with intent to kill and that…)

(Erich refused to offer that up as a suggestion.)

Urahara’s reiatsu trickled through the bracelet and into his soul the whole while, an enforced connection that let him sense the man’s emotions more clearly than he’d ever before managed. It wasn’t an unknown sensation – he and Alexis had been married the traditional way, after all – but it was an unfamiliar one; it had been decades since his own marriage broke with death, and the presence of another person’s power tucked against his soul was disorienting.

Worse, it meant he couldn’t continue to properly hide his reactions from Urahara; with such a direct connection between them, suppressing his reiatsu was worthless, and Erich knew of no healthy way to scrub emotional impressions from his reiryoku. He didn’t know how skilled Urahara was in reading reiatsu but he suspected ‘very’ as the answer, which left his only available option being deliberate emotional focus in order to drown out responses that he didn’t want Urahara to sense.

Which only made things worse.

(It was one thing to stand before a person and connect words and deeds with emotions. It was another entirely to sense things out context.)

Part of him wanted to give in to the inevitable, to accept that there was no way out except to make peace with his fate. Part of him despised the very idea of it, despised that he would even consider it, and the tangle left him sick with nerves and self-loathing.

(Some nights he threw the book aside, drowning his helplessness with rage.)

(Some nights he dug his nails into his skin. Tried to pry the bracelet from his arm. Didn’t notice the blood until Urahara knelt before him and gently-gently-gently coaxed him down, pressing a healing kido into his wounded arm.)

(Those nights were the worst, were the times when he wanted to give in so badly that it ached like a broken bone and when he drowned that longing for comfort in the self-loathing that burned like bile at the weakness he was displaying.)

Urahara’s actions didn’t help. The man was careful and cautious and helpful at every turn. He never pushed, never teased, never touched him and–

Erich missed the casual contact more than he expected.

(He was so weak!)

The onset of war was almost a relief.

(Coward!)

Erich strode into battle with Urahara at his side, the marriage bracelet meaning the two of them couldn’t part ways like he almost wished they could. But fighting alongside Kisuke was… easy, his emotions settling for the first time in weeks and the cold chill of war-death-kill taking their place.

He felt a brief flicker of hope at seeing Quincy standing across from him; if he held back, let Urahara strike the first blow, then surely, surely the bracelet would register it as attack against his Clan, but…

Erich saw the moment when one of their foes caught sight of the bracelet on Urahara’s wrist. Saw the moment the man’s gaze swung to him with a sneer, spitting ‘traitor’ and ‘whore’ and ‘worthless’ in his face.

Ice settled in his chest.

(Peace-marriages were sacred things.)

(They didn’t know it was accidental, didn’t know that Erich was futilely searching for a way out.)

(To deny the meaning, to throw it back in his face like that–)

(These were no Quincy no matter what they proclaimed.)

He carved through the enemy army without remorse, Urahara at his side. Followed the traces of Quincy through the distorted Seireitei. Found one of the only tolerable Shinigami staring at the sky, shadows twisting across his body and–

Erich yanked at Urahara’s strength through the bracelet. Reached out and severed whatever technique Ukitake was building.

“Leave him to me,” Erich told Ukitake coldly. “Don’t throw your life away for something so meaningless.”

“He’s going to–”

“I know.”

He didn’t wait for Ukitake to respond, just turned his attention to path he could feel carved through the ether. It was closing in Yhwach’s wake, slowly but surely, but there was enough of a gap left–

“Don’t let go,” he ordered Urahara as he dragged the man closer, fingers digging into Urahara’s bicep as he latched onto Urahara’s strength again and pulled–

He launched them up-up-up, seele schneider in his hand and Urahara’s strength bolstering his own. He carved through the healing defenses. Harnessed that freed power and used it to send them higher and–

They landed in the Soul King’s Palace with a thump, and Erich immediately absorbed free reishi to replenish his stores. Sent more down the connection to replenish Urahara’s stores. Ignored the man’s curious noise and strode forward, following the traces of Yhwach on, ever on.

(This shame of the Quincy fell to him to correct.)

(He could no longer stand aside. Would no longer stand aside.)

The remains of the palace guards fell before him; he no longer had the patience or the time to deal with them diplomatically. Whether they survived or not was not his concern.

(He could feel Urahara’s twisting emotions, concern-curiosity-determination tangled into an unwavering knot.)

(He had no time to deal with that, either.)

Yhwach greeted them in the throne room, standing before the strange, idol-like figure. He turned, lips shaping a name that died before he could give it voice, and swept his gaze over the two of them, the tiniest hint of surprise visible in his expression.

“How fascinating. I’d not expected the two of you to greet me,” Yhwach mused. “But that’s neither here nor there. Dealing with you won’t be–”

Erich launched himself forward, seele schneider in one hand and revolver materializing in the other. He slashed at Yhwach’s neck and–

Froze.

His body turned towards the idol against his will, sword raising to strike.

He struggled to control his actions, struggled to reclaim his agency, clawed desperately at whatever outside force was forcing his hand. The bracelet warmed against his skin, forcing his body into stillness, and he once more yanked at Urahara’s strength. Threw everything he had behind the bracelet. Bit his lip as the metal heated and his skin burned and everything narrowed down to resist-resist-resist–

Yhwach snarled. “Paltry treasures like that won’t avert your fate. I am the source of your strength, the Father of all Quincy, and your will is mine!”

Something snapped in his mind–

A sword protruded from Yhwach’s chest.

Metal clattered against the stone floor.

Erich staggered. Spun. Drove his seele schneider through Yhwach’s head and ripped–

Yhwach howled. Clawed at reality with his powers, trying to unmake it all.

Erich dragged the seele schneider down. Tore through Yhwach’s core and ripped at the severed power. Absorbed some and scattered more and felt something in his own soul come undone–

He staggered back. Held onto his weapons by instinct alone. Fell to his knees and curled forward, left arm aching and mind reeling. He felt dirty, felt used, betrayed by a legend and almost forced to betray his friends and family.

(The bracelet’s control had been one thing, freezing him in place and enforcing peace the only way it could.)

(Yhwach’s control was another, stealing his agency and turning him into a passenger in his own body.)

A hand settled on his shoulder. Pulled him over–

Erich snarled. Twisted. Lashed out–

Urahara caught his wrist in a gentle hold. “It’s alright. He’s dead. We’re safe.”

Erich stared blankly at Urahara as the man pressed healing kido into his left arm. Felt for the man’s presence against his soul and found… nothing.

He was alone. Empty.

(Waking up in a strange place, Alexis missing from his awareness.)

(Alone for the first time in decades.)

(Alone-alone-alone…)

His eyes found the bracelet on the floor, metal darkened from heat and color fading away. Flickered over to Urahara, wondering if… but no, Urahara seemed unconcerned, unbothered by the change.

(Just like he should be.)

(This was what he’d wanted.)

(This was what he’d wanted!)

“Hey, you alright?” Urahara asked softly, pale eyes concerned as he let his kido die and cradled Erich’s hand gently in his own.

It was too much. He wanted too much. Wanted Urahara to do… something, anything, to make him forget the sour taste of fear and the terrifying helplessness of Yhwach’s control–

Erich took a breath. Shook his head. Pulled away from Urahara and stood, letting his revolver fade and sealing the seele schneider once more.

“Let’s get out of here,” Erich muttered as he scowled at the damaged bracelet and the pile of ash where Yhwach once stood. He turned away. Left it lying there.

(He didn’t need a reminder. Didn’t need the evidence of his failures.)

Urahara flickered away. Returned to Erich’s side. Smiled soft-kind-proud and said, “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go home.”

Erich swallowed against the knot in his throat. Rubbed at the smooth patch of skin where the bracelet had sat. Kept his reiatsu carefully tucked away even as he desperately wanted to reach out to Urahara to fill the cold emptiness in his soul.

(Home?)

(Was the Shoten home…?)

(He didn’t know.)

He strode from the throne room without looking back.

(He’d deal with it later.)

(For now he just wanted to be somewhere safe where he could lick his wounds in peace.)

(Everything else could come later.)

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 14

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

Nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach; much like they did when she’d first spoken to anyone at the Quarry. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other repeatedly, dancing a nervous jig in front of the door to the large home Daryl shared with Carol, Rick, Carl, Judith, and Michonne. A fly buzzed erratically around the light on the wall and Jess scoffed when it dawned on her that she could relate to that fly. Attracted to something that she couldn’t have. She rolled her eyes and checked her mask and hood were firmly in place before knocking on the door.

It was almost midnight and the streets were deserted save for the guards and perimeter checks that Rick had insisted on. It rarely disturbed the residents and therefore Deanna had no reason to object to a little extra security. She glanced over her shoulder to see Glenn passing the front lawn holding a rifle. He nudged his head up in greeting to her and she returned the gesture, turning back just as the door was opened.

Carol stood in the entrance and crossed her arms, visibly and shamelessly unimpressed with Jess’s presence. Jess had no idea why she was receiving such a cold reception and could only conclude that Daryl had told her everything, just like she’d told Aaron.

“Good evening, Carol.” She said formally, not even recognizing her own voice for a moment.

She tilted her head up and looked down her nose at Jess, making it clear that she was not happy with her.

Why are you always telling me off?

“He told me you guys had a big fight.” She mentioned.

“Uh…yes. I guess we did.” She replied.

Carol shooed her away from the door and over to the chairs on the porch while she gently closed the door behind her. Jess, not wanting to protest and be scolded anymore, simply did as she was told and sat down as Carol leaned against the railings, looming over her like an angry parent.

“You need to know something.” She began “After the quarry, we were on the highway, hiding from a herd. Sophia…she got scared and ran off into the woods. We all went out looking for her. I refused to move until we found her. Eventually, people started to give up. I could see it in their faces, they didn’t think she was coming back. Daryl was out looking for her every day. Soon, every day turned into every night as well. Eventually, we ended up on the Greene Farm. Maggie’s dad owned it. Daryl continued to look for Sophia. He truly believed she was out there and that he’d find her. One day, he came back with an arrow in his side. He was covered in blood and dirt, hallucinating and talking crap. Andrea thought he was a Walker and shot him-”

“-Andrea shot Daryl?” Jess intercepted.

“Yes. Luckily, her aim was a little off and the bullet grazed his skull. But he could have died from that arrow wound if he hadn’t got back to the farm when he did. He was willing to sacrifice his life to find my little girl. I went to see him when he was recovering. He’s a man of few words but I remember what he said as if it were yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes at Jess, who was hanging on every word, her lips parted behind her mask.

“He thought himself useless because he couldn’t find Sophia….and he couldn’t find you.”

Jess turned her head away slightly and swallowed hard. She’d done enough crying for one day and flat refused to give in again but the prospect of him still hurting from not being able to find her was something that stung at her heart.

“You are not the only one that built a friendship with Daryl. He has grown up not knowing what it’s like to be cared about by another person. That is until he met you and I and the rest of this group. He is a good man, Jess. So, if you’ve come to fight with him again…” she sighed “…as his friend, I will be forced to turn you away.”

“I’m not here to fight with him.” Jess confirmed.

Carol studied her expression, trying to read her intentions and thought carefully. The night of his fight with Jess, Daryl arrived back at the house soaking wet from the rain and headed for the stairs without a word to anyone. Carol detected something was wrong straight away and followed him, stopping him at the top and making him face her so she could see his face. She’d asked what was wrong and he’d muttered something inaudible at first. It was only when she encouraged him to repeat himself that she finally heard what he’d said.

“I broke her heart.”

Seeing how much that night affected him bothered Carol and sent Daryl into a solitary existence. He spent his days outside the walls and when he did return, he was quiet and dismissive of everyone, even her when she was usually the one he could lean on, the one he told more than anyone else. She wasn’t about to allow another incident to knock him back further.  

“OK.” She finally agreed. “He’s here, I’ll go get him for you.”

She moved across the porch to the door and placed her hand on the Handle.

“Carol?” Jess said

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry… about Sophia.” She offered.

“Thank you.” Carol replied with gratitude.

- = = = = -

Daryl stepped out onto the porch after what seemed like an eternity and Jess shot up from her seat like a nervous teenager. She removed her mask but not her hood, a single, simple nod to his preference of not wanting to talk to a mask. Still wanting to hide behind her strong, mysterious façade in front of the other inhabitants of Alexandria, she would not budge on the hood. The hood stayed put no matter what. He could see that her hair had grown a lot longer, her face shape had changed and her skin was bright.

“Hi” She whispered.

“Hi.”

“Take a walk with me?” She requested. He couldn’t simply walk away without finding out what she wanted and so, decided to honor her request and join her on a midnight walk. He was grateful she wasn’t wearing her mask, its simple existence annoyed him so much that he had visions of burning it to ashes and making her wander around with her face uncovered. To him, it was a much prettier picture than the computer game hero headwear she insisted on.

For a few minutes, neither of them said a word. Jess was almost suffocated with all the things she wanted to say and every time she opened her mouth, she quickly shut it again and re-thought her course of action. The curse of the overthinker; every single little detail was scrutinized. Daryl strolled beside her and glanced her way from time to time, a thin smile on his lips when she caught him on the third occasion in a row.

Aaron and Eric’s house came into view and she veered off to the garage, checking the street briefly to make sure she didn’t have to pull her mask back up. He waited wordlessly but with a bemused expression as she dug around in her coat pocket. Finding what she needed, she held out her hand, a black and silver key hanging from between her fingers.

“Here”

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it from her and briefly staring down at it as if he had never seen a key before.

“An Olive branch.” She said after taking a lungful of breath and trying to portray herself as more in control than she felt inside.

His vision lifted and she could see how baffled he was by the gesture that arrived with no context at all. His eyebrows knitted together slightly and he tilted his head back subtly, suspicious of where this was going.

“When I first got here, I was asked to stay and live here by Deanna. Multiple times. I’ve always refused. I have my own space that I worked hard for. I don’t like to get attached to things, or people. I live my life with no ties or connections. I have to protect my emotional wellbeing” She explained

Regret stung at Daryl's heart when he realized that he was part of the reason why she lived a life of isolation and seclusion from everyone. It was because of him that she kept a basic civility with the people of the town but had no one she wanted to call a friend. He was responsible for her changed attitude towards people and he hated himself for it.

“I was also offered a job and I’ve been considering it since.” She added.

“You hunt n’ clear the woods for ‘em. Ain't that a job?” He wondered.

She shook her head and noticed she was tapping her thigh as she avoided the piercing gaze of his blue eyes.

“No. It’s an agreement. I do it because I want to. Not because I have to. I can survive by myself. I choose to help these people and it’s an arrangement I can walk away from at any time.”

She paused to see him tilt his head again, but this time to the side, thoughtfully.

She even talks differently.

“I know that you’ve spent a lot of time outside the walls since you’ve been here. You volunteer for every run and you hunt more than is necessary. I know why. It’s because the outside is where you feel like you. I know because I’m the same. The other side of those walls is where I’ve learned to live, I don’t feel the fear anymore because it’s just become…normal. But the difference between you and I, is that it’s always been like that for you. Am I correct?”

He nodded, seemingly a little impressed by her observation and understanding of him. She knew him, even after so long apart, she still knew who he was.

“Yeah.” He rasped.

She reached out and tugged the handle on the garage and opened the door. Flicking on the light she walked inside. Daryl followed her to find a Motorcycle in the middle of the room. He looked down at the key in his hand as Jess closed the door behind them and shook her hood from her head. She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair and let it fall around her shoulders.

“What the…?” Daryl started as he slowly began to approach the bike.

“I’m assuming you no longer have your brothers’ bike.” She said from behind him. He glanced at her, unable to look away when he noticed her silky hair and hoodless appearance. Her blue eyes peered back at him; his lingering stare had not gone unnoticed.

I must look so different to him.

“Um, no….no, I don’t.” He managed to answer.

“I spoke to Deanna before I came to your place. I turned down her offer and asked that it goes to you instead. Alexandria needs another recruiter. Someone to go outside the walls on a regular basis and recruit other survivors to become active members of the community. When I met with her, I asked Rick to meet me there. He tells me you are intuitive and an excellent judge of character. He speaks highly of you. My decision was confirmed further when Carol answered the door to me and told me everything you did to find her daughter.”

The surprised look on his face refused to move and Jess thought he was now looking at her like she’d grown an extra head. Multiple times, he tried to speak but a grunt was all he could manage. Not knowing what to say, he finally just seemed to give up. Jess decided to fill the awkward gap with some more information.

“You may not be the Daryl I knew back then. But there are parts of your personality that are befitting to this type of job. Carol, she said you’re a good man…I’m not going to disagree with that. I think you’d be able to find other good people, because they are still out there. I found you guys, after all.”

As he listened, he started to pace around the bike, raising his eyebrows in approval when his fingertips bumped over the handlebars and the leather of the seat.  

“it’s custom made, using all the parts that were found in this garage.” She told him.

“S’a damn nice bike.” He admitted. It was unlike anything Merle had before the turn and it was clearly comprised of all the best parts of some decent motorcycles. After years of arguing with his brother over who would get to use the bike on any given day, he was finally being offered his own.

“Accept the job and it’s yours. I can manage hunting alone. I did before.” She shrugged, secretly hoping he would agree and she wouldn’t have to walk back into Deanna’s house and explain why Daryl turned down what was a generous offer and one that suited him perfectly. It was the only olive branch she could think of.

“Alright. I aint got nothin’ better to do.”

Oh, thank the lord.

“Great.” She chirped casually, digging into her pocket again and throwing him a handmade keyring. He caught it with ease and opened his palm to find a metal, soldered ‘A’ looking back at him. He threaded the key onto the metal ring and licked his lips as he looked up at her.

“Thanks.” He said sincerely.

“Sure.”

She didn’t know why, but she felt the need to break away from his close proximity and wander around the garage, trailing her fingers over the tools and motorcycle parts on the workbench. She could feel his stare practically burning her skin as she moved, the stillness and quiet around them becoming nearly intolerable.

“I’m sorry. ‘bout what happened in the woods.” She heard him say.

She was tapping at her thigh again and this time Daryl noticed with a flicker of familiar amusement for the nervous tic she hadn’t managed to lose along with everything else that made her Jess. She swallowed hard and faced him, her eyes fixed on the floor. Her courage had vanished at the mere sound of his apology. He’d been the bigger person and apologized first, now it was her turn. But she had no idea where to start.

“I don’t want to fight with you.” She muttered.

“Naw, me neither.” He agreed.

Then, she met his eye and her heart lurched. The top buttons on his shirt were open and his leather vest was absent. She could make out the alluring shape and tone of his chest and arms through the thin, dark grey shirt. His jaw was pulled tight and his hair was floppy, falling over his eyes just enough to make him smolder as he glared at her.

How did you get even more attractive? You asshole.

She closed her eyes for a second or two, needing to compose herself. She dropped down onto a wooden stool and sighed loudly, flailing her hands in the air before she’d began speaking.

“I’m not so good with apologies anymore. So…” She paused to check he was listening. Of course he was. He was on tenterhooks. “…unfuck yourself. Or, whatever.”

He snorted at the comment and she detected a small half smile from him which told her he was about to forgive her a lot more easily than she’d thought.

“Right. Yeah.” He grunted, clearly forcing away a laugh.  

She had done what she wanted to do. Offered a way to start to clear the air, swapped apologies albeit not very well and Daryl had a task, a purpose that was given to him by Jess. She felt better, not as mixed up and confused but still wary of getting too close. She could be civil and that would have to be enough.

“Aaron will talk you through everything in the morning. I’m heading home. Goodnight.” She said quickly, standing up and making her way out of the door into the night and leaving him alone with his new bike in the middle of Aaron and Eric’s Garage.

Jess could only hear the thumping of her boots on the sidewalk while she charged towards the gate, needing to be alone in her own space, to write in her journal and vent everything that was building up inside her. She lifted her mask and hood up as she approached the gate guard and reached to her torso in order to lift her bow from her body to equip it. A hand tapped at the back of her elbow and she whirled around, finding Daryl in front of her having followed her from the house.

“I didn’t mean to.” He blurted out. Jess dropped her arm and took a step backwards, wanting to put some distance between them and his out of the blue comment. “In the woods” He continued “Ya said I-I broke ya heart. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean none of it. I never would have… .”

Jess stayed silent.

“… I never would have done that on purpose. I guess I didn’t know that… that ya gave a shit about me.”

She swallowed hard and tried to decide exactly how honest to be.

“I cared about you.” She croaked, her vulnerability now peeping through the cracks in her hardened exterior.

“That stuff ya wrote in ya journal-" He mentioned.

Oh lord. This again.

“-it was true.” She interrupted bravely.

In the months since her departure from the Quarry, she had thought of little else other than that journal entry and the trouble it had caused. She wished she could turn back time and rip the page out, throw it in the fire and pretend it never existed. It was one of the reasons she rarely wrote anything down anymore. But as time ticked on, she realized that if it wasn’t the journal to open a can of worms, it would have been something else. Convinced that Daryl thought nothing of her and that their friendship was a sham, she accepted that the lines of fate would have crossed at some point and shown her that she didn’t belong anyway. She was tired of lying, tired of pretending it was anything other than her spilling her innermost thoughts onto a page.

“I had a crush on you. I lied and said it was all crap because I was embarrassed.” She admitted.

“Oh.” He grunted awkwardly at the same time as scuffing his boot along the ground “OK.”

“It’s in the past, Daryl. It doesn’t matter now. I have to go.” She snapped, attempting to turn around again.

“Hey, we good?” He called out to her as she raced towards the gate.

“I gave you a job and an apology. We’re as good as we can be” was her bland and standard response, thrown over her shoulder while on her mission to put as much distance between them as possible.

- = = = = -

A short run to a canned goods factory sounded good to Jess. An opportunity to get out on the open road and spend some time with the elements. She needed to get out of her own head after spending three days replaying her last conversation with Daryl and staring at the journal in her upturned crate of a nightstand. It was begging to be written in and her head was getting full, but she knew that as soon as she put pen to paper it would force her to acknowledge that which she was fiercely avoiding; she still thought he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen and she hated that he distracted her so much. Part of her felt like she was back at the quarry again, the rumble of nerves in her stomach when she saw him, the pull to admire him from a distance. But one thing remained stronger; her desire to keep her life and emotions to herself. She had no plans to get hurt again and as a self defense mechanism she opted to linger at the sidelines of everything, Deanna’s weekly meetings and Rick’s supply run roster being the main things.

But this was needed and she wasted no time in stepping up and volunteering her services to collect as many boxes of canned food that was left in the factory. She’d felt a sense of satisfaction. The perfect task that kept her out of the way. That was, until Daryl piped up and announced he would go with her. It wasn’t a request and Rick didn’t treat it as such. Needing no convincing, he simply nodded at Daryl and moved on to the next thing on the agenda.

Jess could have strangled him there and then in front of everyone but her quiet, simmering rage soon dispelled when he mumbled in passing that he’d be taking his new bike.

At least I don’t have to share a truck cab with him. She thought.

It wasn’t easy to decide on the route either, with Daryl involved, everything seemed so much more difficult. He insisted that the highway would be the fastest way to their destination and had the cheek to scoff at Jess when she pointed out that the highway left them exposed and like sitting ducks and that they should stick to the smaller, more obscured backroads. His refusal to agree with her flared her temper and she failed to disguise a frustrated sigh as she turned and walked to the truck she’d borrowed.

Daryl was stubborn when he wanted to be and he was sure that they would cut down their journey time by half if they stuck with his idea. But Jess was meticulous and cautious now. She was also not one to suffer fools and waste time on worrying about being diplomatic. He watched her stomp across the street and climb into the truck, closing the door with a loud slam. She waited in the cab, sitting back and drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Her attitude was new to him but not altogether unpleasant, he couldn’t deny that he liked the firm stance with which she held her beliefs and how unafraid she now was to disagree with him.

She wants to take the back roads. I wanna take the highway. I guess we should compromise… and take the backroads. He considered with a small smile.

- = = = = -

The factory was surrounded by a bustling crowd of Walkers that Jess chose to drive straight through at full speed, splattering the trucks windscreen with body parts and teeth. Daryl looked on with concern from the other side of the shattered gate and knew he was going to have to dismount his bike and help her chop her way through the remaining Walkers. Her apparent impulsiveness was a surprise to him, until he realized that in ploughing through the crowd she had, in fact, eliminated over half of them.

She jumped from the cab, machete swinging and blood flickering over nearby vehicles and walls. Bolts flew past her, dropping oncoming Walkers. Daryl was working his way towards her with his crossbow aimed and after a solid ten minutes of dodging, stabbing and shoving, they were able to make it inside through a smashed window. Daryl helped her up, using his hands joined together as a step to boost her up and through the gap. When she was safely through, she checked the darkness with her flashlight before leaning back through and offering him her hand. For a split second, he almost refused, unable to believe she would handle his weight, but he knew better than to challenge her capabilities. He slapped a hand into hers and allowed her to help him up the wall and through the window.

Picking through the numbered shelves with flashlights poised and filling large carts was a time consuming process and while Daryl worked his way through one side of the building, Jess covered the other and amused herself by humming a quiet Beatles tune under her breath. When they eventually met in the middle, Jess heaved a large box from a shelf to find Daryl staring back at her from the next aisle. She briefly held his gaze before tossing the box of cans into her cart.

“Wanna tell me why you volunteered for this run? I didn’t need a chaperone.” She questioned.

It was the first time either of them had spoken since leaving Alexandria. Even in the tussle out in the parking lot full of Walkers, not a single word was exchanged between them. Daryl sensed her barely disguised irritation. If he was to answer her question truthfully he would have to confess that she fascinated him and now he knew her true identity and was witness to her evolution, he wanted to spend more time with her. Missing her had become a familiar feeling, but she had walked back into his life and he wanted nothing more than for her to let down her guard a little, although he was almost certain it was never going to happen.

“Relax” he rasped  “Was a good excuse to use the bike for the first time.”

“Hm. You like it?” She wanted to know.

“Yeah.” He replied as he scooped his arms around several cans and slid them from the shelf into the cart in his aisle. “Purrs real good.”

A quick snort from Jess saw her veer off at the end of the aisle and head for the shutter to the lot. Reaching the metal structure, she took hold of the chain and pulled with all her might. A harsh rattle sounded through the vast space but the shutter refused to lift. She tried again, grunting with discomfort and using her entire body weight to pull the chain. Still nothing. She stepped back, defeated and hoping Daryl wasn’t watching her. As she rubbed her sore hands together through her gloves, she heard footsteps approach from behind her. A hand reached out and plucked a metal bolt from the chains mechanism.

“Was locked” he mentioned before taking hold of the links and hauling it open. His arms were illuminated in the glow of her flashlight and she not only averted the lights beam but her eyes too while she attempted not to let her attention wane and focus on things too indulgent to be thinking about at that moment in time. If anything, It did wonders to distract her from the embarrassment of not realising the chain was locked into place.

That would have taken me awhile if he wasn't here. Dumbass. 

- = = = = -

When Jess backed the truck up to the edge of the loading area and everything they’d collected was moved inside the vehicle, Daryl settled on the edge and lit a smoke with little regard for Jess’s desire to head back to Alexandria. Instead of protesting, Jess sat down beside him, keeping a fair distance between them and exercising some self control over her own body. She wanted to tap her leg, fiddle with her hands and chew her lip. But she kept still and composed.

“You talk to Aaron?” She asked

From her peripheral vision, she saw him exhale a plume of smoke from his lips and nod.

“Yeah. Said our group was the first bunch of decent people found in a long time. ‘Sides you.”

She wasn’t sure if she wanted a conversation but the urge was becoming stronger. She hated that she was still so drawn to him even though the pull to her solitary life was so strong. He was different to before, somehow slightly more open and definitely more mature, she knew that much.

“Humanity is at its worst and best all at once” she found herself saying “Terminus is proof of its worst, Alexandria is proof of its best.”

He looked to the side at her and she met his eye. He tapped ash from his cigarette and it floated to the floor between his boots. She expected him to speak, but whatever he wanted to say was delayed while he examined her mask-less face. A sight he wished he could see more often.

“You really helped us get out? You were really there?” He queried.

The blood. The death. The booming explosion from the gas tank. People running, screaming for their lives. Yes, she was there.

“I saw you on the road a couple days before. With that group of men.” She told him.

He flinched at the memory of the small group he’d attached himself to for a brief spell. A group he should have steered clear of, killed every single one of them while he had the chance. Regret stung his conscience and he dipped his head.

“Hm” he grunted  “I didn’t know what they were.”

“I did. I followed you for miles. Watched you sleep from the window of the auto repairs garage. They were another example of the worst of humanity.”

“You were there the whole time.” He stated quietly, the disbelief evident in his voice as the sentence croaked out.

“I was mad at you, but I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.” She admitted. The truth hanging in the air with foreboding. “I realized you were heading for Terminus when I saw you stop at one of those signs. I knew what it was after coming across the signs myself a few weeks before. Instead of just walking in, I scoped it out. Never went back after I saw them burying truck loads of human bones behind the building.” He was glaring at her intently, trying to figure out how she’d changed so much. Become so street smart, so calculating and always seemed to be one step ahead. Then, he remembered the quarry and all of their conversations. Jess was always smart; she was just underestimated by everyone. Even him. Even herself. “I was trying to steer you in a different direction by skirting around your group to get to the signs first, but I got cut off by a herd and by the time I got there, you were nowhere to be seen but Carol was in murder mode in the woods. I knew then that I was too late. I had to help…. I couldn’t just leave you.” The end of her sentence was mumbled, as if she wasn’t sure if she should say it, but Daryl heard her perfectly.” It was pretty unforgettable. Walking through that place was… macabre.”

Daryl threw his smoke away and cast his gaze out across the bloodied ground of the parking lot and loading bay. Bodies scattered all around, most of them chopped into pieces or ground to smithereens by the truck. The air lingered with the stench of rotting flesh, Much like it did at Terminus.

“You don’t wanna talk about it?” He offered without looking at her.

Rustling from beside him caught his attention and it dawned on him that she was casually unwrapping a protein bar during their unintentional lunch break. Little did he know, it was all Jess could do to keep her hands still.

When in doubt, eat. She told herself.

“Since when do you want to talk about stuff like that? She answered with a mouth full of seeds and dried berries.

“Since you had to kill a ton of people back at that hell hole to save our asses." he reminded her "You OK?”

“Gotta be.” She shrugged, swallowing and scrunching the wrapper in her hand.

“Alright. Well. I’m here.” He told her “talk to me, or don’t talk to me. I’m still here”

“Wow” she smirked “You got all sensitive while I was gone.”

“Fine. Forget it.” He quickly dismissed with a flick of his hand as he adjusted his body in his spot.

She smiled at him, the urge too strong to ignore and she found that his face was subtly mirroring her expression.  He was glad she was neglecting her mask while she was alone with him and not fighting Walkers. He didn’t know if it was proof that she was starting to trust him or if it was simply that she didn’t need it if there was no one else around.  Her blue eyes twinkled in the daylight, the contrast of her dark hair making them seem more icy than usual.

“Seriously, I like sensitive Daryl.” She quipped with a wink in what was possibly the most flirtatious gesture she’d ever offered to anyone. It wasn’t intentional and she shocked herself with just how well executed and smooth it came off.

“Stop.” he grumbled with a huff. Jess grinned smugly to herself when she noticed the pink hue across his cheeks and nose.

Holy shit. I just made a guy blush. I just made Daryl blush. I must be hallucinating. What was in that protein bar?!

She grinned at him and he was transfixed. Daryl had never thought anyone to be beautiful, it wasn’t a word he ever used or even mused over. No woman he’d met could be graced with such an adjective and he’d all but accepted that beauty was merely created to quell humanity’s desire for validation. But as Jess dwelled beside him and dragged a rag from her pocket to clean her machete, he stole a glimpse of her while she concentrated and decided that maybe, just maybe, beauty was a reality after all.

“What’s with the name? Why Parker?” He asked with the desire to avert his thoughts from the fact that’d he’d always thought of her as attractive in some way, now it was becoming more and more obvious to him that it was stronger than ever and it wasn’t something that he could easily ignore.

“It was my brother’s name.” She answered “we both lost our brothers”

“M’sorry.” He offered sincerely.

She shrugged and let out a sigh, stuffing the bloody rag back into her pocket and tugging the keys to the truck out instead.

“I like to think of it as; at least he doesn’t have to see the world like it is now. All the fear, the death, the depravity. He was spared that. So were the rest of my family.” She explained before getting to her feet and looking down at him.

“Good way of lookin’ at it.” He nodded.

- = = = = -

It was well into the evening by the time Jess and Daryl arrived at the gate and as Abraham was on gate duty, Jess jumped from the truck’s cab and greeted him with a masculine high five. Daryl steered his bike over to the side of the road and watched on with a sting of irritation at Jess’s friendly and accepting display of jest with the big, ginger military man. Her reluctance to make friends and trust people had been conveyed in no uncertain terms but it was the polar opposite to what he was witnessing at that moment. She’d been cold towards him and even questioned his reasons for accompanying her on the food factory run, she may have been more personable towards the end, but there she was, grinning and laughing behind her mask with someone she had nowhere near the same history with.

“A great ass and she brings home the bacon!” Abraham jeered at her

“No bacon, just a nice, cold serving of get-your-eyes-off-my-butt.” She giggled. “Evening, Mustache. you good?”

“Evenin’ darlin’. Feel like a can of mashed assholes. But I’ll live.”

“That’ll be the hangover. As usual.” She pointed out in reference to his habit of indulging in a little too much whiskey each night. She habitually passed his house on her way home from Aaron and Eric's in the evening's and caught him settling into suburban life a little easier than everyone else. Abraham was easily pleased and Jess figured that all he would ever really need was good whiskey, good cigars and a good woman.

“Tell me you got some cigars in that goldmine.” He requested with a stroke of his beard and his neck craned to see into the truck behind her.

“No. Sorry. Just a whole lotta canned tomatoes.” She shrugged.

Abraham grunted and shot her an unimpressed look as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other and stepped closer to her. From the other side of the street, Daryl was concentrating on trying to hear what was being said as he pretended to check his bike over. The late hour and deserted streets meant their voices were clearer than usual.

“Well then I do declare that I’m owed a consolation prize. What d’ya say?” Abraham suggested.

Delving into her coat pocket, she fetched another protein bar and slapped it against his huge, muscular chest. “Of course, here ya are. Enjoy.” She smirked before turning back to the truck and climbing back behind the wheel without a second glance.

“You’re stubborn as a mule, woman!” She heard him call out to her when she passed, heading to the pantry to deliver the fruits of her labor.

Daryl was walking his bike across the inside of the gate, heading back to the house when Abraham wandered up to him, chewing eagerly on the protein bar Jess had given him. Seeds attached themselves to the hairs of his beard but he paid it no mind, no one had to be classy in the apocalypse. He shifted his rifle strap on his shoulder and observed the trucks headlights go out by the sidewalk outside the pantry. Jess appeared again and began unloading the vehicle with Olivia, who was frantically scribbling notes on her clipboard.

“Mmm mmm mmm. Little bird tells me she never used to look like she does now.” Abraham commented.

“What?” Daryl probed, knowing who he was referring to but digging for more information.

“Jess. Apparently, she was a little chunky but funky n’ now…well, that ass is damn hypnotic” He pointed out.

“Hey, watch your mouth, man.” Daryl snapped. Anger coursed through his veins and his fists clenched around the motorcycle’s handlebars. Sounding like an overprotective boyfriend wasn’t on his agenda, but it had happened nonetheless and he could only hope that Abraham would take into account Daryl’s frequent and obvious protectiveness over the women of the group and apply the same logic to his relationship, or lack thereof, with Jess.

“Ahh I’m just yankin ya chain. She’s a pretty fine lil thing though, huh?” Was Abraham’s blasé response.

“Uh, yeah. Guess so.” Daryl grumbled. Having heard enough, he continued to push his bike towards the house, only to find he had acquired an unwanted escort.

“You ‘guess so?’ What are you, gay?”

“Hell naw!” Daryl protested, stopping and glaring at Abraham in disbelief.

“Honestly, I don’t care what hole you think is a goal, ain’t no bother to me.” Abraham chuckled with a playful back slap across Daryl’s leather vest.

“Will you keep your goddamn voice down?! I aint gay!” he hissed in defiance.

“Alright, alright!” Abraham conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. He turned his body and began to slowly stride back to the gate. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”

Daryl could hear him say something to himself, under his breath and in a mocking tone. For a second, he had to think about the words he was able to detect as they floated in the air, but this distance between them failed him.

“What you sayin’?” Daryl demanded loudly.  

Abraham stopped and looked over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face.

“I said, I think I been patrolling this gate too much. My replacement is sposed to be here.” He said innocently, raising his hand and gesturing to the gate behind him.

“Mm. Good luck with that.” Daryl grunted before putting some speed behind the bike and wanting to put the conversation behind him. He knew he disliked the way Abraham spoke about Jess, but it wasn’t much different to the way he spoke about other females and Daryl struggled with the fact that the heavy, penetrating feeling in his chest that bothered him so much and only fueled his rage was, in fact, jealousy.

NEXT CHAPTER

----- tagging as requested --

@lilred254​

[disasterdeacy]

Forbidden Fruit Part 2 Teaser

A/N: here’s the teaser for part 2 of Forbidden Fruit! The book Y/N is reading from is “Lady Chatterly’s Lover” and it’s... spicy.

Warnings: 18+, Infidelity, Age Gap, No Keep Reading bc Mobile Sucks and I’m currently at LAX, also not edited or formatted bc again, I’m at LAX.

"Read to me, if you don't mind"

Brian's words are as soft and gentle as his eyes, making Y/N blush harder than she had the night before.

There was just something so intimate about the way he was sitting with her, arm loose around her shoulder, head nearly leaning against her's.

She couldn't help but let out a little laugh at his eagerness, her heart fluttering like the hummingbird that had been keeping her company all morning.

"Are you sure? You might find this kind of book a little boring."

She's teasing, knowing that the paragraph she was about to start reading was anything but boring.

His laugh mingles perfectly with the calls of a morning bird, making Y/N's blush deepen as he places a delicate kiss to her shoulder blade, voice warm and teasing when he speaks.

"If I'm not mistaken, this little book was banned for obscenity and indecency for 30 years darling..."

His lips are suddenly less sweet, harder, needier...

"So I sincerely doubt that this is going to be a boring read.."

He smirks into her neck, his own heart beating like a bat in a birdcage

"Besides... if it means I get to hear your voice, I could listen to you read a phone book Y/N."

The way he says her name, barely a whisper, more of a plea to hear her voice than anything else.

She blushes hard under his gaze and the feel of his lips on her skin, stammering a bit as she begins to read.

"His body was urgent against her, and she didn't have the heart anymore to fight..."

Her voice hitches in her throat, Brian's teeth had decided to make an appearance as she started to read.

"She saw his eyes, tense and brilliant, fierce, not loving. But her will had left her. A strange weight was on her limbs. She was giving way. She was giving up..."

Brian's hand inched its way from her knee upwards, grazing the delicate skin of her inner thigh.

"B-Brian, what are you..."

Y/N trails off, voice breathless, eyes glassy with arousal. It's not like she didn't want this, god did she want it, but they were on his back porch, and his wife and kids, including her goddamn best friend, could just waltz out at any fucking moment... and she was pretty positive that seeing his father with his hands up his best friend's skirt wouldn't have the most positive impact on Jimmy

Brian chuckles into her neck, his calloused fingers dangerously close to her naked core... fuck, she really should've worn panties.

"I'm going to make you regret what you did last night baby girl... making me cum twice in less than 10 minutes.. giving me your soiled panties to sniff like a dirty fucking slut..."

His voice is so calm, steady, and had it not been for the context of his words, Y/N would've thought that he was just asking what she wanted for breakfast.

"If you stop reading one more time, I'm not going to let you cum honey.. got it?"

For a threat, it was whispered awfully soft and kind, but Y/N understood perfectly and just nodded her head, chest heaving, legs spreading involuntarily.

Her voice is shaky as she continues to read.

"She had to lie down there under the boughs of the tree, like an animal, while he waited, standing there in his shirt and breeches, watching her with haunted eyes..."

Brian's fingers are extremely close to her dripping core now, gently running along the crease of her inner thigh. It takes everything in her body, every single ounce of self control and restraint in her body to keep her from ceasing her reading.

"He too had bared the front part of his body and she felt his naked flesh against her as he came into her. For a moment he was still inside her, turgid there and quivering. Then as he began to move, in the sudden helpless orgasm, there awoke in her new strange thrills rippling inside her."

Brian moans at the words that Y/N was reading, how soft and weak her voice was. Fuck, she was the epitome of an angel, a creature sent to earth to bring good will to man, and based on the way his cock was training against his shorts, begging to be touched by the soft skin of Y/N's hands.

"Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite and melting her all molten inside. It was like bells rippling up and up to a culmination. She lay unconscious of the wild little cries she uttered at the last. But it was over too soon, too soon, and she could no longer force her own conclusion with her own activity."

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut right when Brian's fingers finally slip inside of her sopping wet cunt, the noise obscene and completely out of place against the soft morning glow that was cast against the two.

She keeps reading though, the threat of Brian not letting her cum prevalent and weighing heavily in the back of her mind.

"This was different, different. She could do nothing. She could no longer harden and grip for her own satisfaction upon him. She could only wait, wait and moan in spirit and she felt him withdrawing, withdrawing and contracting, coming to the terrible moment when he would slip out of her and be gone."

Brian can't help but let out a hard moan against Y/N's neck, sucking the area behind her ear as hard as he possibly could, almost as hard as her cunt was clenching down on his fingers. She felt like heaven on a Saturday morning, tight, wet, insanely hot, and unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his 51 years of living.

Her legs were completely spread wide, cunt on display for the whole world to see if they so pleased. Brian had to resist the insatiable urge to drop to his knees in front of the swing and suck the juices that were running down his hand straight from the source... but he knew he couldn't do that, he couldn't risk Anita or any of the kids running downstairs and seeing him eating Y/N's young right pussy.. no, he had to be smart, disciplined..

"Whilst all her womb was open and soft, and softly clamouring, like a sea anenome under the tide, clamouring for him to come in again and make fulfillment for her."

Much like Lady Chatterly herself, Y/N was close, so desperately close to cumming around Brian's fingers, her walls clenching him like a vice, desperate to be pushed over the precipice.

Yet, she never stopped reading, even when Brian's fingers sped up, free hand moving to grope her breast through her dress, and his teeth began to nip at her jugular, she persisted.

"She clung to him unconscious in passion, and he never quite slipped from her, and she felt the soft bud of him within her stirring, and strange rhythms flushing up into her with a strange rhythmic growing motion, swelling and swelling til it filled all her cleaving consciousness, and then began again the unspeakable motion that was not really motion, but pure deepening whirlpools of sensation swirling deeper and deeper through all her tissue and consciousness, til she was one perfect concentric fluid of feeling, and she lay there crying in unconscious inarticulate cri-"

She clenched tight around his fingers, book falling to the ground as her arms reached over involuntarily, wrapping themselves tight around Brian's shoulders, mouth wide no noise escaping her throat despite the obvious throws of pleasure she was experiencing.

She knew it was cliche, to say that she saw stars, that she felt her entire body constrict into itself... but she did, his fingers were still inside of her, pressing hard into her g-spot, prolonging her pleasure.

Brian's lips halted their harsh assault on the young woman's neck, instead opting to place gentle kisses to the area, not wanting to overstimulate her too much.

He couldn't remove his fingers from inside of her if he wanted to, her muscles still clenching him tight as her upper body went limp, her head dropping to his chest, mouth open and heaving heavy sighs against his exposed armpit.

"B-Brian.. I.."

Before she could even get a word in, the sound of pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen caused the two lovers to spring apart, Brian's fingers slipping from Y/N's cunt so fast it made her head spin.

By the grace of whatever deity was looking down on them, Y/N somehow managed to fix her skirt, grab the book, and look semi presentable by the time Emily darted out the door, wide smile on her face.

"Dad! Y/N! Anita wants to know what you want for breakfast."

They both breathed a sigh of relief that it was only Emily, because had it been any other member of the May family, the flushed faces, heaving chests, and general disheveled appearance of Y/N and Brian would've given them away.

Brian just smiles, hiding his glistening hand behind Y/N's shoulders.

"Whatever she's making would be lovely honey, just go tell her to make sure to cut Y/N up some of that cantaloupe we bought yesterday!"

Emily giggles and nods, running back inside to yell her father's words at his girlfriend.

Y/N lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in as soon as the door closes, dropping her book back against the patio as Brian lets out a loud rumbling laugh.

She jolts at the sound before joining him, completely dumbfounded that what had just happened actually happened..

"Mr. May, I swear to god, we're going to get caught if you're not careful..."

Her eyes are wide, full of mischief and excitement.. she loved this, the whole forbidden nature of their relationship, or whatever they could call it.

The risk that they were taking was a big one, and the fear of getting caught was only making her want it more.

Brian just laughs, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her lips, hands moving to cup her cheeks.

He winces a little when he realizes that his fingers are still wet with her cum, frantically pulling them away from her to try and wipe them on his shorts.

"Shit, I'm sorry love, you probably don't want that o-"

His words are cut short when Y/N reaches forward with lightning quick reflexes and grabs his wrist, pulling his soiled fingers into her mouth where she licks every single drop of herself from him, eyes never leaving his.

Brian almost cums right there, watching this beautiful young woman do something that he hadn't seen done in 30 years.

He lets out a little whimper, making the young woman smile when she grazes her teeth over the long digits as she moves to stand, her free hand reaching into Brian's shorts, squeezing his cock before turning her back and walking towards the patio door, pausing for a second to send him a teasing wink.

"Be a good boy today Mr. May..."

Tags: @meddows-taylors @toomuchlove-willkillyou @brianmayoucease @leah-halliwell92 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @mariekuuuuuh @unofficialbillnye @stephydearestxo @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @danamaleksworld @dereones98 @glasgowkisschelseasmile @awkwardangelshezza @bellamy1998 @psychosupernatural @warren-lauren @womanwithahotdogstand @oujiacallme @simonedk @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @sam-mercurry-sixx @toomuchtellyneck @asgardianvamp21 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @amore-libre @marvelstuck @softboydeacon @a-queen-on-her-throne