#so yeah if you have any experience with this sort of stuff would really appreciate if you messaged me directly

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

[balioc]

Is this a concept-formulation that's already kicking around out there somewhere? It might well be. It feels like the sort of thing that someone would already have developed. But it's new to me, at least, so I'll muddle around with it as best as I can.

On one end of the spectrum, you've got the musical hook. A hook is maybe two seconds of music, if that. And when you hear it, if it's good, you get a concentrated spike of -- oh, yeah, that's the shit right there, this exact experience in this exact moment is fucking awesome. And then, as soon as it's come, it's gone. All you can do is wait for it to come back later in the track, or rewind a few seconds, or maybe just replay that tiny little scrap of music in your head.

The pleasure of a good hook is incredibly condensed. It doesn't even really extend into the rest of the song, let alone into the rest of your life. To experience it, you have to be listening to those exact few bars (if only in your mind). It has no penumbra, no shades-of-experience that color other aspects of your existence. On the other hand, well...when you're listening to those exact few bars, you know it, and it's great. If it's a good enough hook, you kinda just want to listen to it over and over again, like you're popping Pringles or something.

All the way on the other end of the spectrum, you've got something like a traditional-style TTRPG campaign.

Even when it's being run masterfully, a game like D&D has a very low proportion of that's the shit right there moments, and a very high proportion of tedious yak-shaving stuff. Every so often you get your critical success in a high-stakes moment, every so often you get your awesome monologue or your big-drama scene or whatever...but for every moment like that, there's a hundred moments or more of the other stuff. The commonplace D&D play experience is famous for its vast amounts of OOC joking-around, which is not how things look when people are deeply engaged with the art on a moment-by-moment basis. And, of course, not every campaign is run masterfully. Sometimes boredom, or eye-rolling, is what you get in almost every moment.

And yet people love their D&D campaigns, like really incredibly a lot, and are deeply affected by them, and not-uncommonly have their whole lives changed by them.

The correct model here, I think, is that the pleasure generated by that kind of TTRPG experience is super diffuse. It's almost all penumbra. The awesomeness doesn't inhere in any one moment, or even any one scene or any one story arc. It inheres in the broad strokes of the campaign, in the ongoing knowledge that YOU ARE YOUR COOL CHARACTER and you go on a million cool adventures, in the mythos and the running jokes that add up invisibly over time into magic. And it pervades the entirety of your existence. You can think about it when you're lying in your bed, you can chat about it with your friends over lunch, and the awesomeness is just as much there as it is when you're actually playing. Maybe more so.

**********

Once you start looking at art through this variable-diffusion-of-appreciation lens, you can see many different points on the spectrum.

It's obvious that a short story is more concentrated than a novel, which is more concentrated than a series; it's obvious that a movie is more concentrated than a TV show. But it's not just the choice of medium that pushes in one direction or the other. It's a million different choices concerning content and style. Lushly descriptive language, in prose fiction, serves to concentrate the reader's appreciation into the moment of reading -- it forces the expenditure of extra attention for the sake of creating a beautiful mental moment, which in the vast majority of cases will be gone and forgotten almost instantly. Abstracted and philosophical language does the exact opposite, pulling the reader out of the narrative for a little bit for the sake of giving him something to roll around in his head. Suspense, and surprising plot developments, are concentration techniques that can have their full effect only during the transition from unspoiled-to-spoiled (and they serve to emphasize and heighten the moments of that transition). Archetypical, iconic plots are diffusion techniques that trade predictability-in-the-now for satisfaction-in-contemplating-the-story-later.

Sitcoms strike me as being vehicles for diffuse appreciation, to a huge extent, even more than other TV shows of comparable length etc. Much of what makes them good is just the presence of the characters and their distinctive shticks in your mindscape, in a way that builds from episode to episode without any particular grounding in specifics. When I think about a sitcom that I like, I find myself concluding that I like the show overall more than I like any single given episode. Which is weird, right? You'd expect some sort of bell-curve thing where the best episodes, or even the best individual moments, rise up above the averaged-out mass of the whole. But no.

**********

Fannishness is, overall, a very diffuse form of appreciation. This is true in the very-obvious sense that you're enjoying the work during a time when you're not actually consuming the work, by dint of consuming/producing fanworks and talking with other fans etc. But it's also true in the somewhat-less-obvious sense that the enjoyment-of-the-thing usually ends up very unrooted in the specifics of the thing, the plot beats and characterization details and so forth. You have a big beloved vibe, with lots of bits and bobs attached, and you can take the bits and bobs you like best and rearrange them however you like best when you're engaging in fandom.

**********

I believe it is overall true that concentrated appreciation is much more legible than diffuse appreciation. More legible to artists and art theorists, more legible to marketers and consumers. When you talk about art being good or bad or successful or unsuccessful, it's very easy to think in terms of "what is it like to consume this moment-by-moment?", and much harder to think in terms of "how does each piece of the work pervade the whole of the work, and also the general thoughtscape of the consumer?" For this reason, concentration techniques are associated with prestige, and high-prestige analysis tends to focus on a work's ability to generate concentrated appreciation.

...I also believe that different people want to be appreciating art, in the ideal case, at different levels of diffusion. There are people for whom a good artistic experience means lots of crack-hit awesome moments, and others for whom a good artistic experience means getting to live in an infinite penumbra, and others who fall at every point in between.

**********

For reasons I may discuss later, I think this concept-suite is extremely valent to the construction of theater LARPs, and the tension between people who expect more-concentrated enjoyment and people who expect more-diffuse enjoyment is responsible for a lot of the Wars Over What's Good within that sphere.

[frankenfossil]

Oh! I nearly forgot, but can I ask the significance of this panel?

It comes directly after Dee explains that he can’t come and see her from the future whenever he wants. (Which is one of my favorite moments where Dee’s true eldritch horror leaks in to the story), so I assume it’s… sort of a metaphor? How Emily finds herself at the foot of something she realizes is much, much bigger than she contemplated before?

(Also, I just wanted to compliment you for this panel)

(The first time I saw it, I imagined Dee was showing her this on purpose, time traveling from sometime the same day to really show her what it would be like. An object lesson.

The second time I saw it, I started to wonder

Because Dee himself doesn’t really look aware of what is going on behind him.

And maybe, just maybe, this one moment in time has become the only moment that Dee allows himself to come back to to see Emily, the one moment where he can get lost in the crowd with every other time he came back to look. The one moment where he’s explaining why he can’t come back.

Just… Makes me sad, and I wanted to say thank you for that too, because I love these characters and the story they tell, the sweet and bitter.)

Oh!!!

(Quick test of my ability to find which chapter stuff happens in)

I love your reading of that Uluru panel!! I think I probably didn’t intend anything that deep with it; these time skip montage style chapters are pretty choppy and I’m usually trying to figure out a way to touch on all these brief scenes or moments that I don’t want to spend a whole chapter on for whatever reason, and arrange them in a way where the cuts aren’t too hideously abrupt. For visual reasons I try to contrast different locations and not put 2 dialogue heavy moments directly next to each other. Mood wise, I don’t really want to cut from something serious and angsty to something that’s a complete backflip on that. I also sometimes just feel like drawing a nice landscape and hope it achieves my aims on these fronts haha.

I think also here I was trying to move from that final sentence, “The present is more than enough”, to demonstrating them appreciating having that present together - being able to go do cool and enriching stuff, something not completely mundane but not completely fantastical either. (I mean... sightseeing within your own country is extremely normal, but going to Uluru from Melbourne... not a convenient day trip, since it’s 2000km; 25 hour solid driving, or you can fly in a few hours but I think you have to go via Sydney, so that makes it take at least twice as long I guess. Not that it's specified how long they're there for. I haven’t been myself but I’d love to one day...)

So, yeah!! More of a mechanical/compositional rationale than an intentional metaphor, but I think your reading makes complete sense and actually improves the page! (Sometimes I do intend visual metaphors... but sometimes they’re just happy accidents.)

And thanks for the compliment re the crowd of Dees!! I also love the moments I can lean into his eldritch qualities... they’re sadly few and far between but maybe that helps them be more surprising?? Definitely your first reading was what I intended, that he zigzagged back pretty quickly, probably even from within the conversation, but there is an inherent ambiguity to Dee’s time travelling where unless I take pains to spell it out, there really is no way to know when he’s come from. Even if he can be assumed to be taking every interaction chronologically, there’s no knowing how much time has passed for him between each visit. I don’t even know how to estimate how long his experience of time is, when he’s zigzagging back so densely all the time; even the number of living things on Earth any moment is an incomprehensibly mind-boggling number. That eldritch horror again!

Truth be told I hadn’t thought of him coming back to this moment and blending in with the crowd for the rest of the future ;_; but that’s so real... he could well be, the sad sack...

I had a different sillier thought from slightly misreading your question on first pass, which is that maybe he doesn’t originally know what’s going on behind him, but then later on as he’s just going about his business he goes “oh I know exactly how to punctuate that thing I said earlier!!!” and then does it as an afterthought. Oh to have the ability to add the things you wish you’d said to an earlier conversation 😂

[daisysouthmoore]

Warnings: Explicit (18+) angst, language, and eventual smut. (Lots of smut.)

Note: This chapter is dedicated to @sanctuaryforthelost If it hadn't been for you and your kindness, I would have never found a reason to finish what I started. It's been four years since my last update, my friends. Here's hoping I haven't lost my touch. Thank you so, so much for reading even after all this time. <3

[ Daddy’s Girl Masterlist ]

CHAPTER 16 - Nightcap

Le Bernardin was more than a meal. It was an experience. Beneath the warm and inviting glow cast from its teak ceilings, we feasted on caviar tartare, scallops in brown butter dashi, salmon in black truffle pot au feu, Parisian chocolate cake. All paired beside wines with notes specifically tailored to each artfully composed dish. It was the sort of luxe four-course meal that dream dates were made of. The kind made to set the tone for a night of blissful passion for any soon-to-be newly weds. And yet, I struggled to endure another minute of it.

I couldn’t seem to get past the insufferable sound of Benny smacking his lips between bites. I gritted my teeth as he ungratefully scarfed without bothering to acknowledge or appreciate the subtle and aromatic flavors infused with each course. This was hardly an experience to him. Since the day he was born he’d been served heaping silver spoonfuls from lavish silver platters. It meant nothing to him but the least he could do was pretend to give a shit.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about. The scallops were decent at best.” Benny picked and sucked his teeth as we settled into the car.

“Really? I thought it was fabulous.” I sighed and tried not to visibly scowl.

“You’re a New Yorker. Of course you did.” He snorted in contempt.

“Well, since you know so well, maybe you can take me to Paris one day for the real experience?” I forced a smile and scooted closer. I even attempted to flirt as I fiddled with his lapel.

“Paris… And you think I’m pretentious.” He mumbled as he scrolled through his phone, hardly fazed by my affection.

“So, if New York is only decent and Paris is too pretentious, is there anywhere in the world where you’re happy, darling?” I feigned humor at his arrogance.

“I’d be pretty content in bed right about now.” He sighed tiredly as he tucked his phone away in his pocket and draped an arm over my shoulder.

Though he seemed to be returning my affectionate gesture, it was more out of habit than with any physical or romantic intent. I could tell by his tone that he wasn’t interested in any sort of adventures to be found in bed. Not with me anyway. I already knew there was someone else. Maybe several. Most of the time I pretended not to care but sometimes I wondered why. What was so wrong with me? I was confident enough in my looks and it damn sure wasn’t a matter of whether or not I was good in bed. I’d built a successful career on my skills after all. A slight tingle of panic ran through me as my inevitable guilt came into question. Was that the reason? Had Benny found out? Had my past finally caught up with me? But how?

In the dark and seedy underground of the business world, the usual legalities and moral principals didn’t apply. Blackmail and sabotage ran rampant but there were still a few unspoken, loosely enforced rules. Stones that couldn’t be cast in glass houses. Prostitution was one of them. That sort of ammunition was off the table to most because they all had a hand in it. There would always be some form of collateral damage. Not to mention, I was hardly the first escort to find her fairytale ending on a wealthy man’s arm. Who would care? Unless the business man in question had nothing left to lose… Then suddenly a strong suspicion began to rise in me.

“So tell me about your day. You mentioned to Negan you were meeting with Mr. Berkley?” I asked in a deliberately innocuous tone, as if the mere mention of my former peddlers didn’t make my palms sweat.

“Yeah. Just some corporate formalities. You know, boring legal stuff.” He shrugged it off and focused his attention on his phone again. That wasn’t really all that unusual but the way his shoulders tensed was.

“Oh.” We fell silent for a brief moment as I tried to read his expression but his eyes were blankly fixated on some lengthy email. My eyes shifted as I considered dropping the subject but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling me. “Well, with a client like Berkley you must have your hands full.” I feigned a light hearted barb.

“What do you mean?” His eyes finally flicked up with a hint of skepticism.

“You said he was a shady guy didn’t you?” I asked innocently.

“Dahlia, all business men are a little shady. That’s exactly what corporate attorney’s are for.” He laughed it off in a bored way, in a way that didn’t really reach his eyes as he reflexively reached to squeeze my shoulder, like that would be enough to quell me but I felt nothing if not more suspicious.

“Well, it’s a good thing he hired you then. So what kinda shady stuff-?” I started but he abruptly cut me off with a loud and exasperated sigh.

“Jesus, Dahlia. What’s with all the questions?” He seemed to have lost his patience and my own quickly followed.

“I’m just trying to have a fucking conversation, Benny. That’s what couples do. They talk about-” I started to bicker but he had even less interest in that.

“-I talk enough about work at work. So if you don’t mind I’d like to leave it there. Can’t you just hound me about something else? Fuck’s sake…” He yanked away his arm to run a tired and flustered hand down his face.

“Just forget it.” I rolled my eyes and scowled dully out the window instead. I felt restless and unsettled. But then again, I’d felt that way for quite some time now.

***

Coincidentally, Benny and I made it back to The Sanctuary hotel well before midnight. Not that I’d been even remotely concerned with making it in time for Negan’s ‘curfew’, but I couldn’t help noting the irony. Granted, it was only by circumstance, but it wasn’t like me to be so obedient. At least not without a stern and heavy hand to convince me. The thought of it was enough to make me squirm. And while it didn’t take long for Benny to find sleep, I was far too restless to join him.

I took a moment to freshen up and let my hair down. Then I snuck away to the hotel bar for a nightcap. Nothing more. At least that’s what I told myself I was doing there but I was hardly surprised to find Negan waiting for me. He looked handsome as ever among the warm and inviting candlelight. Dapper as usual in his fitted suit that seemed to accentuate the seemingly endless length of him. And it seemed he was expecting me too when the sound of my heels caught his attention. He tucked away his phone and greeted me with a wicked and knowing grin. I knew I should have been ashamed of myself. We both knew what sort of scandalous prospects had coaxed me there to begin with. And with my fiancé peacefully sleeping only a few floors down. Yet something about that stirred up a deviant flutter inside me.

“You’re on time. That’s a fuckin first.” Negan stood and placed a swift an amiable kiss on my cheek. He even pulled out my chair for me like a perfect gentleman. But the way his eyes devoured the sight of me…

“Only by chance.” I smirked as he took my hand helped guide me to my seat. “Besides, I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Oh, I was very fuckin serious, darlin’.” He promised as he leaned to speak in my ear so closely the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. “You look fuckin gorgeous, by the way.” He complimented in a low growl.

His hands slithered up the sides of my chair to grip the sudden tension that rolled up my neck and shoulders. His fingers lingered and glided on my goose-bumped skin before he slinked around my chair to sit across from me. I could tell by the spark of mischief in his darkened eyes that I must have been blushing just the way he’d hoped. He gestured for the bartender to bring me a drink before carrying on.

“So… Tell me about your date. How was Le Bernardin with Benjamin?” He grinned with far too much amusement as he draped one long leg over the other and patiently sipped his whiskey.

“It was lovely. The scallops were to die for.” I said matter-of-factly.

“Is that all?” He chuckled deeply.

“Well, no. The salmon was a close second.” I said remaining purposefully vague.

All the questions were a waste of time. He didn’t have to ask to know the date itself was an inevitable flop. It wasn’t news to either of us that Benny would always leave me with that insatiable craving for something more. He just wanted to hear me say it. So he leaned closer to rest his elbows on the table as if daring me to come closer. His eyes held mine with a demanding grip as he lowered his voice to a tone that vibrated my insides.

“And what about dessert?” He asked.

“Parisian chocolate cake. It was decadent.” I bit my lip as I mirrored his posture and further closed the gap between us.

“Sounds pretty fuckin’ romantic.” He smirked as he raised his dark brows inquisitively.

“It was.” I laughed and nodded reluctantly.

“And yet, here you are. All by your lonesome.” He gestured his hand at the empty bar around us.

“I’m not alone. I’m with you.” I smiled fondly.

Negan returned the same doting smile as he regarded my eyes for a long moment in silence. We savored the sound of a soft, mellow saxophone crooning in perfect harmony with a slow and melodic piano. They seemed to speak well enough for the both of us but now I wanted to say it out loud. 

I wanted to tell him how good he made me feel in these fleeting moments. How Benny never even came close. I wanted to tell him how much I wished we could erase the past and lie to ourselves, pretend like all the bad never happened. We could pick and gather the good parts, those few and far betweens. What if we could just…? I’d just parted my lips to speak the unspeakable when suddenly the bartender arrived and set a cocktail neatly before me. Negan offered him a nod of thanks before gesturing him off and turning back to me with a wink.

“A Manhattan. How fitting.” I noted nostalgically as I swirled the pick and cherry through my cocktail glass. He watched my mouth closely as I took my first sip of the amber liquid. The same rich color of his eyes. Which one was more intoxicating was debatable.

“How’s it taste?” He asked as he licked his lips.

“Like a lot of bad history.” I jested but it was the honest truth.

“Oh, well, if you don’t like it,” He reached over and plucked the Luxardo cherry from my glass.

“No way! That’s my cherry!” I gasped and playfully fussed at him.

“You just had a five star meal and you’re gonna fight me over a fuckin’ cocktail cherry?” He laughed, his gorgeous smile dimpling his cheeks.

“Come on! That’s the best part!” I resorted to a full on pout as he brought the cherry to his lips.

“I’ll say it is.” He laughed inwardly at his own adolescent innuendo before he leaned a little closer still. “Okay, brat. Take it.” His deepened voice coaxed me as he brought the cherry to my lips instead.

Our eyes met for another long and amorous gaze. As the silence and tension grew between us I found it impossible to resist his offer. So I took the dark, glazed cherry between my teeth and lapped up its sweet syrup on my tongue. I’d hoped I could have pulled off a seductive smirk but I couldn’t help grinning like a fool instead before I hid behind another sip.

“Better than Parisian chocolate?” He asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Meh.” I wrinkled my nose with a shrug of indifference.

“You little shit.” He laughed with me.

It seemed we were both charmed by the sound of each other’s laughter as our gaze lingered and we drifted even closer. So close that I felt the brush of his knee beneath the linen table. That small bit of friction was enough to spark the constant smoldering flames between us. So I stoked them further by slowly brushing my high heeled foot up the length of his calf and watched as the sensation registered in his gaze. I saw a flicker of desire followed by his usual smug smirk.

“Didn’t you tell me last time was the last time?” He said, narrowing his eyes in amusement.

“You and I both know it’s never the last time.” I confessed. 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he reached forward to take my hand. He stared down at the rock on my finger and brushed his thumb over it with a long pause and contemplative gaze. “Tell you what, I’m gonna give you one last chance to get out while the gettin’ is fuckin’ good.” Then his eyes, those deep, penetrative, captivating eyes flickered up to capture my own in a sultry glare. “Or you just give me the word I’ll fuck your brains out right here and now.”

In a way, it felt like sitting face to face with a lion. It was reckless and dangerous but I never felt more elated, I never felt more high than I did in those fleeting moments while adrenaline coursed through me. While I waited in suspense and counted down the seconds before he pounced and ravished my body the way I so deeply yearned for. Only this time, he was giving me a choice. This time, he was giving me a fair chance to weigh my options.

I was engaged to another man. I had a diamond on my finger and flawed or not, I knew the stakes. I knew better than anyone that Negan was infamous for knowing exactly how to swoon an unsuspecting woman. Hadn’t I learned the first time? Or the second time? Or the time after that? Hadn’t he been just as toxic and selfish as Benny, if not worse? Hadn’t all of the most debilitating heart breaks of my life been by the dick of this man? This big, hard, lip smacking, sheet gripping, toe curling, earth shattering specimen of a dick? Yes. Absolutely. One thousand fucking percent. And I hadn’t learned a damn thing.

“I want it.” I said outright.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin get it, princess.” He promised as he reached down and snaked his long fingers into a tight grip around my ankle.

Without even the slightest bit of hesitance, he slipped my stiletto away and brought my bare foot to rest on his hardened cock already pressed tightly against his slacks. My breath hitched in surprise as he stroked my arch along his shaft. He thrust into the motion and in an instant, my panties were drenched. My clit quivered as a deep moan hummed in his chest and his eyes slid shut.

“You feel what you do to me, Sugar? How fuckin hard you make me?” Jesus christ. As if I wasn’t dripping down my seat already. “Come here.” He yanked me by the ankle.

I all but leaped across the table to straddle his lap. My head was still spinning as he wrapped me in a deep and all-consuming kiss. While his tongue greedily lapped up the lingering taste of cherry, his large hands slid up my thighs and under my skirt to clutch and squeeze my ass coaxing another needy moan from my lips. My heart raced as he stood and lifted me with him to set me on the edge of a barstool.

“Spread for me, baby. Show me what your husband-to-be is missing out on.” He said shamelessly and like a fool I obeyed him. But how could any woman with a pulse say no when he licked his grinning teeth that way?

He took a few steps back and casually shrugged away his suit jacket as if I wasn’t gawking hungrily at the way his cock tented his pants. I watched eagerly as he draped his jacket neatly aside and began meticulously rolling up his sleeves. All the while, he kept his eyes on me, gauging my expression as my own patience grew thinner. I squirmed and writhed in anticipation while he came ambling back, a smirk tugging his lips as he came to stand between my legs again. His hands came to rest on my knees and slowly slid up the tops of my thighs as he spread me further. He loomed tall and lean and perfect above me and I gazed up at him with pleading eyes as his own lowered to the sopping wet puddle I’d become. A grin slowly spread across his face.

“Damn… Look at you, babydoll. Is all this for me?” He chuckled as his hand slid down the inside of my thigh to brush over my throbbing heat.

He teased me relentlessly. Only allowing his fingertips to stroke and coax me through the sheer, damp silk of my panties. I was bucking my hips off the edge of the barstool while my body begged for a deeper touch. My voice cooed and pleaded for him but he was so painstakingly patient, drawing out every brush and swirl of his fingertips. He slipped his thumbs just beneath the hem of my panties and with a gentle tug he slowly spread my pussy open.

“Hmmngh… Negan, please…” I squirmed restlessly but he only brought a finger to his smirking lips and shushed me.

“Shh… Let me savor this fuckin moment, sweetness.” He said as he reached back down and with his thumbs made slow circles, carefully kneading my plump and supple mounds to tease the very outskirts of my clit. As my panties gathered and bunched in the cleft of my lips he taunted me further. He gripped and tugged the fabric up into his fist, wedging my panties deeper between my slit, pressing the tension against my clit. 

With his free hand he worked on his belt buckle. I writhed in anticipation. My eyes were wide and eager as he reached into his slacks. I licked my lips as his hardened cock sprung free and he stroked his fist over the length. I could already see the tip glistening with his own desire to fuck me but he wasn’t done savoring.

He tapped the head of his cock on my clit. Three hard and heavy smacks. It was enough to make me jump and quiver. I rolled my hips toward him, aching with a desperate need to feel him stretch me open. I thought my pleading moans would finally be answered as he tugged my panties aside but cruelly and relentlessly he only allowed his shaft to glide through my folds. A deep laugh resonated in his chest as he watched the head of his cock spring up and out of my panties while he fucked my clit.

“You poor, sweet thing… So sensitive… I’m willin’ to bet I could make you cum just like this.” He grinned.

“Negan…” His name dripped from my tongue in a pitiful whine.

“No. Look at me.” He said firmly as he snatched me by my chin and peered into me with a stern and demanding gaze. “I don’t give a shit about that ring on your fuckin’ finger. When you spread your pussy for me, you call me by my fuckin name. Now, who does this pussy belong to?”

“Daddy. My pussy belongs to Daddy.” I panted like a dog.

“There she is. There’s my good girl. My Sugar.” He said with affection as he pulled me into a kiss so deep I moaned into his mouth. 

His lips lingered a moment longer before he brushed his thumb across my pouting lips. And though he didn’t speak, the look in his dark and hungry eyes held me in an inquiring gaze as if preparing me for what was to come. Arousal swelled in my chest because I already knew and my body was aching to feel it. My eyes remained fixed on his as I nodded eagerly and sucked his thumb between my lips. His mouth parted just enough for a hitch of breath to escape his throat and his eyes flickered with lust. Then I felt it. The sudden and deep plunge of his cock. I threw my head back with a sharp gasp and shrill moan of agonizing bliss as the sudden intrusion made me tremble all over.

“God, yes! Daddy!” I cried out.

“Jesus fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” He gritted through his teeth as he clutched the back of my neck. He slowly pulled his hips away, gliding his cock out to the very tip before plunging back into the hilt with a lewd and wet squelch. Then again. And again. And again. “Come on, Sugar. Do that thing I like. Squeeze Daddy’s cock with that pretty little pussy.” He said, his voice bordering on a plea.

I knew the ‘thing’ he was referring to. It used to be my signature. So, I squeezed my pussy tight around his cock and in a fluid motion I scooped and rolled my hips to drag out every delectable inch. His head dropped back and he let out a long and deep groan.

“Ooohhhh ffffuuuuck yyoouuu!” He huffed out a breathless laugh as he clutched the bar to keep from losing his footing. "Still fuckin' got it don't you, Sugar?" And even though I was in the throes of my own debilitating pleasure, I couldn’t help the smug little smirk that curled my lips. It didn’t last long though. He took hold of the reins again as his long fingers raked up to curl into my hair, gripping it tightly as he pulled me down into the brute force of his thrusts that made our skin clap. 

“Tell me, baby. Does he fuck you like this? Does he make your pussy feel like this?” Negan murmured against my skin as he clutched me tightly.

“No! No one fucks me like you, Daddy! No one! No one fucks me like you! Oh god! Oh fuck! Please, don’t stop! Please, please, please!” I begged as I coiled my arms around the back of his neck.

“That’s a good girl… That’s my good fuckin’ girl.” He growled as he reached down to glide and swirl his fingers over my clit. “Now, show me. Cum for me, baby. Cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

As his skilled fingers vigorously worked my clit I could already feel it brewing. A warmth swelled and spread between my thighs and threatened to burst. And while I wished I could have held out longer, while I wished we could stay tethered to this moment where nothing else mattered, my body raced to the precipice. My mouth dropped open as a gasp hitched in my throat. And as his cognac colored eyes peered into the depths of my pleading and desperate gaze I plummeted into an orgasm so intense that my eyes rolled back. My clit throbbed and my pussy constricted around the thick and heavy girth of his cock.

“Oh fuck! Daddy! Daddy, I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m— Ahh!!” I shrieked.

“Fuck yes! Yes! That’s it, baby! Milk my fuckin’ cock! Fffffuuuuck!” Negan groaned into my hair as he coiled his arms around me and clutched me tight against his body as his own orgasm crashed through him.

***

After we came down from the heights of our pleasure, we found ourselves sprawled out on the floor of the Sanctuary bar. The quiet lounge music continued to croon faintly in the background as we basked in our afterglow. I laid with my head in his lap while Negan leaned back against the bar with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. The other hand gently brushed through my hair and for a long while we just sat there fully content in our silence. That is, until a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“What?” I lifted my head curiously.

“I was thinking about the first time I ever watched you walk into this place. That tight little black dress. Those cheap, hand me down heels. That fuckin’ faux fur coat.” He teased with a grin.

“You mean the night I threw a glass of wine in your face? —I still have that coat by the way.” I jabbed him playfully and scowled. 

“Yeah. That night.” He laughed and roughed up my hair.

“Erm! You deserved it.” I griped as I batted his hand away and raked my tousled hair away from my face.

“Yeah, I did. Probably deserved a helluva lot worse.” He admitted in a mumble.

“I don’t know. I feel like five years in prison evens it out pretty well.” I shrugged casually with a smug little smirk.

“Easy.” He warned with a side eye.

“Do you regret it?” I asked.

“Regret what?” He asked.

“That night. We could have left it at that. We could have parted ways and never looked back. Might have spared us a lot of heartache.” I suggested as I looked up into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt but he only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be stupid.” He scoffed before taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey and I smiled faintly knowing that despite everything we’d been through, neither of us would take it back. Then I snatched the bottle from him and took a swig for myself. So, yeah, maybe it wasn’t a nightcap in the most traditional sense but it was the perfect end to an imperfect date.

Tag list: @sanctuaryforthelost @letsby @londoncapsule @galaxieeye @supernovarigel @powluhtea @stunt-lads @blooodywhxre @privatetruths @casuallyfancydonut @lucillered66 @dee-wonderwoman

As always, if you ever want to be added/removed from the tag list don’t be afraid to reach out. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I don’t own shit but my own thoughts and ideas. I also don’t mean to take credit for someone else’s hard work. If you are/know the source of the above images let me know so I can give credit where credit is due! Thanks!

[yuurivoice]

I think alot of people are worried they'll make something you won't like because alot of creators are very stingy about what they're fans can and cannot make. (Not including NSFW or Ai creations)

Alot of fans don't wanna upset or make their favorite creator angry because their fanart doesn't adhere to their rules

Oh yeah, I get it and I appreciate the care. I try to elaborate and break down my perspective because in my experience there's some murky waters you can get into as a creator when you've got a budding community of really excited fans and you're really active engaging with the fan works. I've been through the ringer in that regard, from the ground up, so my approach is based on those years of experience.

I think a fandom of any sort should just be able to fool around and do their thing. While I have things I do and don't love........that shit ain't really my business, and no one should be creating anything on the basis of me seeing or feeling some type of way about their stuff. While the cozy we're all friends/family community vibes are fun and can be awesome, that shit will eventually lead to headaches that I don't want to deal with. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate or am not interested or anything, but I'm very wary of how excitable fans might react if one person gets "attention" and they do not, etc.

Which to a lot of folks might sound silly and like something that doesn't happen. Bubba, I promise you it has, it could, and it will again. Forever. Especially for something as personal and intimate as this particular niche.

90% of folks have always been excellent but the 10% has been nuclear and gross and not a great time. After a few trips around that block, I don't have the time and energy for any of that.

That might be a jarring change of pace for newer followers who might have other experiences and expectations from other communities and junk. Might even look like I'm a dick because I'm not falling over myself to engage with every post, but I've been in the trenches, have had uncomfortable parasocial interactions, have had people get weirdly possessive jealous and intense, have had a long list of shit that I now have very particular personal policies in place to ward off.

Saying all that to say, I don't concern myself with what people are up to so long as they aren't outright stealing shit without credit and passing it off as their own, or doing really obscene shit to harass folks. Otherwise, I think it's healthiest for all parties involved if I'm not stressing over what strangers on the internet want to make and they're not worried they'll upset me.

Obviously every creator is different and your mileage may vary from case to case. Shoutout to the folks who haven't had to deal with that and those who are chill. Perhaps I'm overly cautious at this point but I'm cool with that.

Basically, I get why folks would worry, and I'm trying to make it clear why that ain't a thing around here. It's one thing when people very specifically bring stuff TO me, or ask me something anonymously etc, but if you're just posting? You should be free to do whatever, that's not my business and you should be posting because you're having fun...not wondering what my dumb ass is gonna think about it. 😂

[piromantic]

long gender rambling pt 2 (stuff that's been on my mind since watching i s4w the tv gl0w)

lowkey i do think knowing ahead of time what this film was about did dull the emotional impact for me but i did still get caught off guard by a random mundane line and cry for the rest of the film so, yeah

but it didn't really have the impact on me that everyone else seemed to get from it even though the ending scenes resonated with me so fucking hard. it just kind of got to me in a depressing way lmao but i do appreciate that wake-up call.

compound that with my experience at the conference back in may and ughhhhhh like i really am suffering and nobody even notices. i put aside so much discomfort to play the part of 'professional woman in STEM' for a few days and i get rewarded by being just straight up handed a she/her badge. like my lab mate was well meaning but damn ok life, that's a bit on the nose. and then i watched the movie and it's like ohhhh right i forgot that i'm the only person in the room who knows this is all a big elaborate performance for the sake of everyone else's comfort.

but what else can i even fucking do at this point?

honestly i feel like i have this deep-seated fear that i will never be taken seriously if i try to come out as any sort of trans and i don't know where it came from. it's probably a conglomeration of a ton of things. comments from my family. the portrayal of the transmasc experience always seeming to glorify the rejection of feminine traits and interests. the fact that i even have feminine traits and interests - and while i consider them gender neutral because fuck off nothing is inherently gendered, i can't argue my way out of ballet (for example) being a stereotypically girly thing. which is not to say that being a stereotypically girly thing is bad - it's not at all - but that it feels like evidence that can and will be used against me by other people.

(as an aside, i have mentioned really connecting to writings about the butch identity before, but it still feels like a label i can't claim. i'm not really doing masculinity in a queer way i'm just kind of... existing. also it feels like a label that only makes sense within the context of communities that i don't actually get to interact with that much. idk. 'you can just use the label if you connect with it' true, but if i used it people would be like 'ugh you can't call yourself that just because you have short hair and wear pants', and i can't disagree with that lmao)

i don't even know if hormones would help at all. i feel like any euphoria i feel would be more than cancelled out by the sheer amount of fear i'd feel being actually visibly trans. (especially because the non-permanent effects of hrt aren't even that interesting to me - i am already as hairy as i want to be, and my only issue with my face is the acne.) but then i meet someone in STEM who's transmasc and it's like godddd what would my life be like right now if i was just less scared. something about being in a room with people that i feel connected to but who don't recognize me as someone like them kills me inside.

and what is there besides hormones. i still haven't found a name that i actually resonate with, plus i've already published literature, and there's a practical reason why many women in STEM don't take their husband's last name. i already dress in ways i like, outside of formal clothes. changing pronouns goes right back to the 'i feel like no one will take me seriously' issue, and i just do not have the energy to continuously educate and correct people. i'd like top surgery for sure, but that requires three things i don't have: money, time off, and someone that can take care of me during recovery.

as a kid i preferred math to science because math is neater, more satisfying to look at, but at the same time math is frustrating because at the end of the day it's theoretical, not realistic. and that's how i feel about queer/gender theory. on the one hand, my views of gender are veeeery much 'none of this is innate, we need to deconstruct the very idea of gender'. on the other hand, the theories i find the most relatable and fulfilling do not at all help me understand how to deal with real life. like no amount of me not caring about gender will cancel out the fact that other people are always projecting gender onto me.

i think i keep digging into this stuff because i'm looking either for some way to continue being a woman more palatable to me, or for some satisfactory explanation for my mother's question of 'women can be anything, so why is that not enough for you?'. but no matter how much i dig into theory about 'woman' as a social construct, i can't find a way to be okay with the label, nor a way to explain why i need a different one. i can't just think my way into a social vacuum where wearing pink dresses doesn't carry meaning. but then it's like, okay well what do i do about this discomfort within my material reality? and the answer is i don't know. i don't know!

the one thing i really, really hate is having a feeling that i can't explain. i wince at explanations of being trans that go like 'i always preferred sports to dolls' because it works off of gender binary stereotypes, but i understand why people say that. at the same time, while i relate to theory that throws gender out the window, i can't deny that other people do have strong feelings about gender, both regarding identification and orientation. and i can't decide for them whether that is their innate truth or effects of social conditioning.

not really sure what the point of this was. umm 10/10 good movie

[kozykricket]

i really love how imagination based deltarune is, its about the whimsy of indulging in fiction, and... i wonder how much of that part of deltarunes like... well, one of its core deconstructions (i think its safe to call fiction That) but i wonder how much of that part was affected by UNDERTALE itself, because like

well i was reading an interview about margin of the strange, and its funny because. margin started as a thing before oneshot... but oneshot took some inspiration and ideas/tones from margin. but now margin is actually becoming a game, and it can learn from what oneshot did and i think ... its p similar to undertale and deltarune from what we know. like. deltarune hometown wasnt going to have any monsters in the original concept, as toby said. im sure he decided on that after he started making monsters for undertale... and, well, theres a lot of things, again theres a really big post on frisk, chara, and the player, comparing them to kris and the player... that i wanna make (will probably be an addon to this post) but this post right now is about...

im curious how tobys EXPERIENCE with UNDERTALE has effected his views of fiction. clearly he was already involved in like, indulging in fiction, yknow. as a Gamer and also in fandoms like homestuck... creation was no stranger to him but, had he created something incredibly massive? no, he hadnt. but now that he's created undertale, i feel like... surely, even if in subtle ways, that must've added to his perspective around the creation of fiction and ... him experiencing *firsthand* how your creation can grow so much that it almost becomes not yours. i just think its interesting to think of. ive said it before but ill say it again: i love when games' settings or themes are based around fiction, escapism, or just like. has stuff manifesting from imagination / thoughts. and to add to that, i think in general Creating Things about Creation is pretty cool. like, chicory is a game that talks a lot about being an artist and... deltarune may very well kinda reflect being a creator of stories, as toby does. i think with undertale under his belt, perhaps he has more to reflect and show in that sense who knows? all i know is that i appreciate when i can look into something that someone made when it like... really gives insight into what their values and thoughts are as a person. like ive said this before but i think... yknow, people who say "oh skies forever blue is a deltarune lore hint!!" is like. thats silly

but also, its valuable to, in a broader sense, analyze the ways that a writer like toby likes to think about. his perspectives and thoughts around metanarratives, the things he likes to do... like i think "the greatest living show" shows hes a fan of the theming of puppeteering of a living person, on a surface level viewing anyways. which of course we can use to be like "yeah thats definitely something that he's diggin into more in deltarune" and skies forever blue goes into... whaddya know, meta concepts in games. thats just like, something toby clearly likes. games and playing with their save files if anything, skies forever blue would tell us more about undertale than about deltarune. i hope what im saying in this part comes across well. its just like "you can look at a writers other works to find out more about what they like to write about, what they like to deconstruct, and what interests them in general" ...but anyways.. i really want to make a big post sometime about how i fully believe Kris to be a more refined take on something that was only a sort of Experiment in undertale: frisk and chara i think theres a reason its a headache to talk about those two in undertale, because... i dont think it was really the main focus of undertales metanarrative necessarily speaking. yes, they are the vessel for the metanarrative, but the metanarrative isnt ABOUT controlling a protagonist as a Player of a game. its... close, but its a bit more of a "first try" at what kris as a character does. is what i think anyways i have some good points ive noted down in a decent sized document about the whole situation with the red soul and the humans and the player and. yeah. part 2 to this post may come. (also i just think kris is really awesome and cool)

[skzhera]

GET REAL S4 w/ Ashley, BM, JUNNY, Hera and PENIEL! Ep 1 W Hera!

The hosts talk about their newest addition's Band members, ant it's sub unit, 3Racha.

**Intro**

BM: Welcome to the podcast, Hera! We're so excited to have you here. Hera: Thanks for having me. Since the last time i was here, ive literally been waiting for this day. That was we filmed after i was her for 5 Star promotions, i asked Peniel to meet me in the evening and i spoke to him about this very thing, and here we are! Peniel: We're so glad you could join us. We've been wanting to have you on the show for a while now. Ashley: Yeah, I've actually grown to be a such a fan of Stray Kids, for me this is too wholesome :) Junny: And we're excited to hear more about you, your opinions and how you navigate this new part of your life! Hera: You guys are too nice. Thank you so much for being so kind!

**Next Segment**

BM: So, let's start with your sub teams, within Stray Kids. I came across the fact that the group has a sub team called 3Racha?Hera: Ah yes. So, back in college, Chris or Chan, and Changbin, started writing songs, making music. Rushed me and Seungmin into making some music or melodies for it. Gradually, almost all of us discovered we have some sort of a passion and liking for making new music. But back then, we did not really make much of it, until Chan went to Korean and started training under JYP. From here, he started asking Changbin to consider being an idol as well. By that time, he had met Han Jisung at the company, and connected over the fact that they enjoyed making music. As soon as Changbin joined the trio, they began producing music on a more serious level, but never really released any songs. Eventually, they took the idea seriously and came up with the trio, 3Racha. Which essentially means, 3, as in the trio, Racha means a gust of wind, so a hot storm to take over the industry, hot like sriracha. Junny: And they have rap names too Hera: You are really bearing them away. They came up with these when they were stupid young, don't come at them, okay? So Chris' is CB97, CB- for Christopher Bang, 97 for his birth year. *Hera shrug, apologetically, enticing a round of giggles from the table* SpearB, is form Changbin. Chang means Spear and B stands for the later part of his name. J.One Would Han. J for jisung, One for 'Han', which is One in Korean. BM: Damn Hera: no don't say "Damn" we were kids we thought we were the coolest names in the business!

*They all laugh loudly*

Junny: And so, you are like an unofficial part? Hera: yes. so back when the launched themselves and pitched to JYP, PD-nim was firm over the fact that she's too young. Let her participate and be part of it all, just don't name her officially as of yet.

Ashely: How old were you?

Hera: They came out in 2016, so i was 14 years old. Peniel: Oh yeah, definitely too young.

BM: So your songs are obviously very well received. What's your songwriting process like? Hera: So, for the nine of us, none of us really have a specific process. We just start off of what comes to us. Sometimes, some word we read somewhere can inspire us, some tune we heard, some other artist we seek inspiration off, some past story, some trauma even *lol* We don't really work in a specific way. And it kinda works for us. Han's really good at writing. He sits for maybe 20 minutes and he's done with a banger. But then maybe he's facing issues coming up with a melody. Chan would be working on some other track and he doesn't want to break his follow. He'll go around to other members and so we collectively just come up with melodies, lyrics, beats, all of that stuff.

Peniel: That's really cool. It's really good that your guys' wavelength matches so well. Your songs are definitely very personal and relatable. Ashley: Yeah, I can definitely hear your own experiences in your music. They way you guys have practically explored every genre? Amazing.

BM: And that needs guts. To know your audience has already appreciated a certain kind of music from you guys, but to still test different waters and explore all your options, it takes extra time and energy. Good job. That's definitely a challenge. But I think you're doing a great job of finding your own sound. Peniel: I agree. Your music is really unique and refreshing. Hera: Thank you very much :)

**Outro**

Hera: Thanks so much for having me on the podcast. It's been a lot of fun. I have literally been dying to get here, and today is finally the day! Ashely: Tons and tons of Congratulations!! You've done well Hera!! BM: It's been a pleasure having you here. We hope to have you here for as long as possible. Hera: I would love to. Thank you for tuning in you guys! Peniel: Make sure to rate our podcast on wherever you are listning, Spotify, Apple or google podcast! FIVE STARS ONLY *They howl in unison*

Ashley: Thanks for listening! Bye

Hera's Masterlist!

Listen to the actual podcast: GET REAL S4 w/ Ashley, BM, JUNNY, and PENIEL

https://open.spotify.com/show/1p42GLS0xVHfEe4ASWQKj2?si=ac5dd61c5bcf49cb

[hardcandycigarette]

Canyon Moon Road Part Two

Harry woke up to the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a rooster crowing. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow around the quaint guest room. He felt surprisingly rested, the kind of rest that comes from being somewhere serene and undemanding. He quickly dressed and made his way to the kitchen, following the enticing smell of fresh coffee.

Y/N was already there, moving around the kitchen with a practiced ease. She turned as he entered, her face lighting up with a welcoming smile. "Good morning! I hope you slept well."

"Better than I have in a long time," Harry replied, taking a seat at the small wooden table. "Thanks again for taking me in."

"It's no problem at all," Y/N said, handing him a steaming mug of coffee. "Like I told you last night no one works on Sunday.” She chuckled. “Well that’s a lie. Theres a cute little Farmer’s Market, if you’re into that kinda thing, and a diner in town. Other than that it’s you and me and Max”

Just as Harry was about to ask who Max was he felt a nudge on his leg. He found the simling face, tail wagging Black Lab. “I assume this is Max.”

“It is. Come here boy.” She called to the calm, happy dog. She rubbed his head just as he sat at her feet. She pointed toward the coffee pot with a gesture of her head. “Sorry it’s not a fancy cappuccino.”

Harry smiled. “No problem at all.” He said as he grabbed a mug and poured the dark drink.

“So you'll have to stay another day. Hope that's alright."

Harry smiled. "More than alright. I could use a break from all the driving."

"There's a hotel about 45 minutes away I told you about if you'd prefer," Y/N offered, "but you're welcome to stay here with me."

Harry considered it for a moment, appreciating the offer. "I think I'd like to stay, if you don't mind. It's been really nice here."

Y/N nodded, pleased. "I'd love to have you stay. I’ll whip up something for breakfast, then I’ve got to get to work on this place.  You’re welcome to watch tv, rest, take care of business whatever you want or need to do. Max is good company and he can show you around.” She giggled to herself.

"Do you need any help?" Harry offered, genuinely interested in lending a hand. “With the house I mean. It’s the least I could do.”

"Actually, that would be great," Y/N said with a relieved smile. "There's so much to go through."

After breakfast they cleaned up, then Y/N offered Harry a brief tour of the home. It had an air of nostalgia about it, with its creaking floorboards and rooms filled with memories.

"This was my grandparents' room," she said, opening a door to a sunlit bedroom filled with vintage furniture. "I used to spend hours in here curled up on the bed listening to their stories."

Harry could see the fondness in her eyes and felt a pang of empathy. "It must be hard, going through all this."

"It is," Y/N admitted. "But it's also kind of therapeutic. I just... didn’t realize how much stuff there was. I mean they’ve been gone a long time, but coming in here actually going through their things, it’s different, you know? Like I’m actually admitting, realizing everyone’s gone. No one’s coming back. It’s just me."

Harry’s kind heart had him wanting to hug her, comfort her because that’s just his way, but he realized this woman didn’t know that about him and he needed to respect boundaries.

Y/N shrugged and said, "Well, let's get started with the attic, sorting through boxes of old photographs, letters, and various knick-knacks. Harry was amazed at the sheer volume of items, each telling a piece of Y/N’s family history. As they worked, they talked about their own families and childhood memories, finding common ground in their experiences.

"Look at this," Y/N said, pulling out an old photo album. "This was my mom when she was about my age."

Harry leaned in to look at the photos, feeling a strange sense of connection to the history in the house. "She looks a lot like you."

"Yeah, everyone says that," Y/N replied with a soft smile. "It's nice to be reminded of her."

As the day wore on, they took a break for lunch, sitting on the porch and enjoying the view of the sprawling countryside. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and clear blue skies.

"You know," Harry said, taking a sip of his drink, "there's something really peaceful about this place. I can see why it means so much to you."

Y/N nodded. "It’s always been a sanctuary for me. Even with all the work to be done, it's comforting to be here, like a hug from my family."

After lunch, theyreturned to the attic where they found old tools, furniture, and even some vintage clothing. Harry couldn’t help but try on an old hat they found, making Y/N laugh.

"You look like you stepped out of a different era," she said, shaking her head.

"Maybe I did," Harry replied with a grin, tipping the hat playfully.

By the time they called it a day, they had made significant progress. They had set aside boxes of items to keep, donate, and throw away. Y/N looked genuinely relieved and grateful for the help. She had also noticed the flex of Harry's muscles has he lifted and moved boxes. She was beginning to see what women found so attractive about him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said as they stood on the porch, watching the sunset. "I don’t think I could have done this without you."

"It was my pleasure," Harry replied, feeling a warmth in his chest. "I'm glad I could help."

That evening, they cooked dinner together, their movements in the kitchen almost synchronized as they worked side by side. Harry found himself enjoying the simple companionship they shared.

After dinner, they sat on the porch, watching the stars come out. The pinks and yellows of sunset had changed to a deep blue. They talked about their plans for the next day. Y/N told Harry she hoped his car would be fixed because she was sure he wanted to get back on the road.

As they sat there, Harry found himself thinking about how comfortable he felt around Y/N. She had a way of making everything seem easy, natural. He realized he would be happy if he could stay but that wouldn’t make sense once the car was fixed. They winded down and excused themselves to their respective rooms for the night. Harry fell asleep content in a complete stranger’s home and he knew on paper it didn’t make any sense. He also knew Jeffrey and his security team would not be content if they found out this recent development, but he didn’t care.

The next morning, Harry woke up early, eager to see Y/N again. He made his way to the kitchen and found her already up, dressed in overalls and carrying a toolbox.

"Good morning, Harry," she said with a grin. "Ready to get your car fixed?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Wait, you're the mechanic?"

Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Yes, I am. Thought I'd surprise you. I grew up working on cars with my dad, and I’ve been doing it ever since."

Harry shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You keep surprising me, Y/N. Let’s get to it."

They spent the morning working on Harry’s vintage car. Well, Y/N worked on the car, and Harry was the most adorable curious nuisance ever. While normally Y/N would normally find it annoying she found this dimpled man-child charming. Harry was impressed by Y/N’s skill and knowledge, and he found himself enjoying their time together even more.

By midday, Y/N  stepped inside to make a phone call. When she returned she broke the silence. "Harry, I have some bad news. Your car needs a specific part that I don’t have. I’ve called around, but it’ll take a few days to get it shipped here."

Harry frowned. "I see. There's no way to expedite it?"

Y/N shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. Even with overnight shipping, the part just isn’t readily available. It’s not about the money; it’s about finding the part itself."

Harry sighed but then looked at Y/N and smiled. "Well, I guess I'll be your guest a bit longer. If that's okay with you."

Y/N smiled back, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Of course, it’s okay. I’d be happy to have you stay."

The next day they went back to working on the family home, making steady progress. Harry learned more about Y/N’s family and the history of the house, feeling a deeper connection to the place.

As they ate lunch Y/N turned to Harry with a thoughtful expression. "Do you ever get tired of all the attention, Harry? Being recognized everywhere you go?"

Harry nodded. "Sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, but it can be overwhelming. That's why this trip is so important to me. I needed to get away, to find some peace."

Y/N smiled, her eyes filled with understanding. "I’m glad you ended up here, then. It’s been nice having you around."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "It's been nice being here. You’ve made this place feel like home."

That evening, they sat on the porch, watching the sunset. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. Harry found himself captivated by Y/N’s presence, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about something she loved, the sound of her laughter.

The next day they talked and their dreams and fears, their hopes and memories. Harry knew that meeting Y/N was more than just a chance encounter. He didn’t know what the meaning was but it something more than chance.

But for now, Harry relaxed into the present moment and the deepening friendship they were building. He wondered if he just might be developing a crush on her. Yet, he wasn’t ready to admit it, not even to himself. The future was uncertain, but Harry felt a sense of hope and excitement, something new.

[f0point5]

Hey! I really like your blog and please don’t come at me, I’m trying to come from a good respectful place, but have you stopped thinking that, from what you said, you never painted Monza, etc., as you are painting Mexico, and the fact people are pointing it out to you maybe, just maybe, you can take notes that the way you are portraying it, like the way y/n talks about the place, the emphasis you’ve put on the security stuff when no one in real life has made such a big deal like, yeah, added security, that’s it. Maybe you do have a bias and don’t realize. This isn’t coming from a hateful place, just trying to shed some light on it.

I’m not coming at you, but I do have to reply to this publicly as by being anonymous, you haven’t given me the opportunity to do so privately.

I said this is another ask, but the hate in Monza was meant to be part of the storyline, it just didn’t end up fitting considering the Mick storyline was being wrapped up in Monza. Although, it was said in the fic that Y/N had a bad experience at Monza last year, and that she avoided being seen on race day because of the hate she received. So it’s not as though I made any attempt to white wash the behaviour in Monza.

Again, I am not a newspaper. Idk if this is not clear because I take so much from real life, but the way things happen in this fic is not necessarily how things happen in real life, nor am I attempting to pretend that they are real or pushing some agenda. It is all to make the fic interesting.

And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think if I had brought this sort of storyline up in Monza, that I would be getting these kind of asks. Maybe people need to think more about that.

I really don’t know where to go with this discourse anymore. I understand your opinion, but I don’t agree with it. And with all possible due respect because I do appreciate that you’ve been nice about it, I’m the only person who is obligated to be on this blog.

I apologise if anyone is so offended by this that stop reading/enjoying the fic but that is their prerogative, and how I tell this story is mine.

[e-vay]

This is the same person who asked about the situation with the dance. I appreciate your response, and I can see how that could be a bluff. The frustration isn’t so much Aurora being portrayed as real, I actually like that about her. I liked her with Shadow for a while, but my issue is that the situation was completely one-sided.

Shadow sacrificed by going to the party, and he sacrificed by putting up with the fact that Aurora basically humiliated him, giving him more of a reason not to want to go in the future. It’s hard for me to get behind this couple now because while I’m meant to believe there’s compromise, I’m not seeing it. All I’m seeing is Shadow making a sacrifice for Aurora and basics being punished for it. That doesn’t make me believe the comic ever thought Aurora was wrong.

So how hard would it be to get Shadow to come to public events right after this? Are their any sort of backlash for Aurora? That’s my question.

Thank you for your understanding. I like your art, and I wish I wasn’t as frustrated with Aurora as I am, because I wanna like her, I just get frustrated with her because of stuff like this.

Continued conversation from this previous ask.

I’m really not sure what else to tell you that I haven’t already. If you’re looking for them to get into a huge fight, I don’t think they would. They’d talk it out. And yeah they’d probably avoid social events more.

The whole point of that comic was everything going wrong at a party, but in a comedic way.

Aurora had a really crappy night, she got made fun of by Shadow and Sonic, and later she got thrown in the trash, so it’s not like she didn’t experience any karma that night.

Also Shadow ended up having a great time at the party… It was mostly his hangover the next morning that he regretted and of course how buddy-buddy he got with Sonic.

[alpaca-clouds]

Relationships and Healing

(Or: The entire thing about healing sex)

⚠️ CW: Rape, forced prostitution ⚠️

You know what? I cannot resist the chance our dear traumatized vampire provides to talk about aspect, that I personally do care a lot about in my writing.

Especially because I saw it discussed in several blogs here. So I just want to talk a bit about my reading and in general with how I deal with the topic when I am writing about. Not only in this fandom, but other fandoms as well. (Will probably also talk about Castlevania a bit further down.)

So, if you have read any of my Tav/Astarion stuff, you might notice that there is sexy things happening - but no sex.

Now, I now a lot of folks read Astarion as ace, but I don't. I read him mostly as just carrying around too much sexual trauma to fully be able to enjoy sex. Because, well. He carries nearly 200 years of sexual trauma. Depending on your dialogue choices (and whether or not you do the romance), he talks about it a bit. How he tried to tell himself that it would not be so bad, if he went for the pretty people, how he might even enjoy it. But of course it ended up very much not working.

A small tangent here: I do kinda appreciate this to some degree. Because it is a surprisingly sensitive portrayal of this. A lot of rape survivors get actually told that they should be happy because "Pretty Person" had sexual interest in them. See also: Celebrity rape cases. (Also, I really do appreciate that they allowed a man to have this backstory, because male sexual abuse gets so often ignored in media or played for laughs.)

Of course it is not only the sexual trauma with him. I mean, this poor man has all the trauma. Literally all of it. Which makes this even more complicated.

So, yeah. I think him holding back on sex is very much that for him sex is equivalent to having his body used. It is not really clear what his life was like before Cazador, but it seems pretty clear that for the last nearly 200 years his experiences with sex were always negative. To him sex is not a thing that happens between two people who want to enjoy it, but a thing that is forced upon him or at best a thing to archive a goal of some sorts. And that is without even going so far and consider sex for love or anything, of which there is a good chance that he never had it, given he was still fairly young when he was turned.

We see that in his behavior, too. When he goes to seduce Tav (or whoever you play as), he does this, because in his mind there is no way that someone is going to help him without payment. Because for 200 years nobody has helped him. And the only payment he knows is paying with his body.

Its also why I find the "sex on his grave" scene a bit sus, because to me it very much reads as him not having a proper coping mechanism to deal with all the feelings he is experiencing after killing Cazador. Because till that point he has coped through snark and through being a general asshole, and now he does not need to do that anymore... and he does not quite know how else to deal.

So, yeah. I decided to have him struggle with all of that. Because it is an experience that a lot of rape survivors have. That they want to have sex again, but somehow their mind just won't allow them. Because whenever they are in a sexual situation, a part of them just goes back into panic mode. Sex itself becomes basically a trigger for the PTSD. (And let's face it. Astarion has not PTSD, but C-PTSD.)

And I just think... He is gonna need a bit time to heal, before he actually is gonna be able to enjoy sex.

I might note, that this is also the reason why I find it a bit sad, that there are very few scenes of him actually interacting with the other characters on the team (outside of the idle banter), because what he needs, too, is friends. Just positive humanoid interaction. I mean, it is a good scene that in whoever you might play as he has a good friend/romantic partner, but... he also just needs more friends.

This kinda brings me over to the other aspect in general: The concept of healing sex or healing through relationships. Which is... a complicated topic, really.

A lot of people keep saying that "healing sex is a thing that only works in fanfiction/media", but I am gonna respectfully disagree with this. Now, of course, physical wounds will not heal through sex (though there is some research that suggest that healing might be quickened just a bit due to hormons and stuff), but for some trauma survivors it actually has a healing effect. Even for some rape survivors. Because for some people it works really well as "overwriting the bad memories with good ones" and to teach the nervous system that it is actually something you can be safe with.

While for others it does not work and might even be triggering.

Because, you know, trauma survivors are different and have different paths to healing.

The other bit is healing through a (romantic) relationship. Which is even more complicated. Because yes, if you have the right partner that definitely can work. But also, it does put a lot of emotional strain on that partner, because they gonna have to deal with all your emotional stuff at your worst moments. Which can make the relationship quite unhealthy, if not everyone is very aware about this.

(This kinda is why so many YA romances, especially straight romances, tend to be so messed up. Because you often have the very sad bad boy, who has this very sad backstory involving tons of trauma... and then a female main character, who has to deal with it. Because of course therapy is nothing that the bad boy ever would go to.)

It is also why I decided to handle my ships with Castlevania the way I did. In my stuff Adrian gets together with Trevor and Sypha only nine months after the end of the series, after having had some time to heal at least a bit before it. He still does need to do a lot of healing - and also needs to learn proper coping strategies - after that. But at least his mental wounds are not as raw any longer as they were by the end of season 4.

Meanwhile Hector and Isaac get together only two years post-canon, because in their case they both have a lot of healing and soul-searching to do until they are in any shape to have a meaningful romantic relationship. And yes, I also made a point out of bringing in Striga, specifically, as someone who is able to offer emotional support to them.

It should also be noted that I kinda do enjoy writing different trauma reactions within those characters. I gave Trevor a ton of sexual trauma (because he was a street kid and street kids usually tend to collect sexual trauma over time), but he is just very willing to latch on to people being good to him and basically use it to overwrite any bad memories he had. Meanwhile Adrian does have to deal with certain things in bed triggering him for a long while, with the trio kinda figuring out bit by bit what he is okay with and what not. And then, we have Hector. Who... takes about five years to actually admit that Lenore raped him and that he has quite a bit of trauma from that. Because it is a thing that actually happens: People only realizing that they are traumatized at a point, when they start to feel actually safe.

So, yeah. Just a few thoughts on this and how I read those characters and their trauma. And yeah, I absolutely do project my own trauma and healing onto some of them. (Especially Hector. I see so much of myself in him.)

And... uhm, I think this is the end of this blog post. If you are interested, please vote in my poll about what I should write for NaNoWriMo this year. The BG3 story would definitely involve some more stuff about Astarion's healing journey, while "His Story" would involve some healing with the forge masters. xD

[a-student-out-of-time]

Let me try and break it down as best I can (Im sorry for speaking so much, but I do enjoy these sorts of talks.)

I don’t have any issues with Teruko. Yeah, she’s an edgelord, but I do tend to have an affinity for Fangan protagonists who are on the crazier side (shocking, I know), not to mention that I understand why she is that way; her life is fucked.

Xander is fine and all, but nothing I haven’t seen before, but I know Aliza likes him, so I’m not about to badmouth her boy.

Charles is fine because he reminds me of post-DR1 Byakuya, Still a bit of a self-entitled jerk, but cooperative and a major help when it counts, and I like that.

Ace takes every personality trait I hate from both Kazuichi and Leon and mashes them together in one character, and I utterly despise it.

I admit that it is impressive what Despair Time is doing with Arei, even though it’s probably not gonna amount to much, because it bothers me that so many killing games, including the source material, DONT DO THIS. The only time Danganronpa built up a character to be an asshole, then redeemed them in a way that i thought was done well, was Fuyuhiko. And when Arei showed signs of trying to do better, I really admired that, so now I’m cool with her, even though I hated her at first.

Rose is an insanely uninteresting character among everyone else in this cast, and I don’t know why, but i also don’t want to badmouth her because I know Paper-scrap likes her.

Hu is okay, but she reminds me of an over-friendly relative that I have in real life that I don’t really like being in the company of. Like, she assumes things about me, and then spreads that misinformation. Also, the stuff that happened with Nico made me cringe so hard. Like, I GET that she didn’t understand the proper etiquette for this shit, but I am in this scene and I don’t like it.

Eden is okay, but whatever.

Levi? Also okay, but I’m scared of him.

Fuck Arturo, he’s just really annoying for no reason.

I actually really liked Min, and she had a really interesting design, despite its plainness, but she died way too goddamn early and that was kind of a turn off for me (as in a turn off for the series, not…whatever else that could be construed as)

David is David, we don’t really need to say anything here. But yeah, he’s a pretty okay twist villain for me.

I don’t really know what to say about Veronika, she’s just sus as fuck.

I want to like J, but something just sort of turns me off her. I guess she’s just the wrong sort of stubborn? I dunno…

Whit id a little annoying, and I’m struggling to figure out what purpose he serves in the narrative. He feels like the game’s Kokichi, just…less important?

And Nico, while again, I empathise with Nico, kind of freaks me out.

//Yeah, I can understand that

//I enjoy DT's cast overall and I appreciate their depth, but I get why someone would find a lot of them annoying or just okay. Of course, it's still Danganronpa, so some similar character archetypes are bound to crop up in some capacity. It's the story's style of intrigue and overall mysteries that I find more engaging.

//I feel like, if you look at DT on a purely surface level, it loses a lot of its charm and it does end up feeling samey in a lot of aspects. But the foreshadowing and subtle mysteries with the setting, the characters, the storytelling and even the Tumblr blog are so cool and they hint at much more going on than just another killing game.

//But even with that in mind, yeah, this cast can be really annoying sometimes, so it may hamper the experience ^^;

//Point is, I like what they're doing and I wanna see where our story is heading regardless of my predictions.

[yttsimp]

I love love LOVE Kai Satou. May I have some cute autumn-themed romantic relationship headcanons with Kai please?

One Kai headcanons coming up 👍

Kai Satou Autumn Headcanons

Flavor: Gn!reader x Kai Satou

Warnings: None

Headcanons under the cut v

COZY COZY OH SO COZY

Okay, hear me out, you and Kai redecorating the house for autumn.

Just, hanging up paintings, putting up little autumn-themed decorations like leaf garlands and hanging flowers to dry....so pleasant,,

Kai's certainly an acts of service man, so he will knit you some cozy sweaters to make sure you're staying warm as the weather starts to get colder

BAKING WITH HIM!!!! Oh my god, baking stuff like bread with him is such a good bonding experience. Plus, he really loves spending time with you like this!!

Coffee dates? Coffee dates. He'll take you out to a coffee shop so you two can just relax.

He's certainly one for comfortable silence. Don't get me wrong, he loves talking to you and hearing your voice, but he also really appreciates a comfortable silence where you two can just enjoy each other's presence. In a way, it makes him feel safe.

But if you would rather continue talking, he won't complain. If anything, it means he can keep listening to your lovely voice.

Speaking of, if you're the chatty sort, he will *always* listen to you. He loves hearing your voice and listening to you talk about the things you're passionate about.

He tends to be silent while you're talking, but that certainly doesn't mean he's not listening. He is, he's just not incredibly chatty himself.

Listen, this guy is not the best when it comes to physical affection, so if you're wanting to cuddle with him he'll be a little stiff at first. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that he has No Experience when it comes to physical affection so he just doesn't know what to do, where to place his hands, and what have you.

You'll have to guide him through any sort of physical affection.

He'll get better with it as time goes on, but cuddling with him is not the comfiest at first.

Between you and me, he is very shy in the affection department. It's very hard to see, but when you are affectionate with him he'll have a very tiny blush dusting his cheeks.

Best way to get him to smile? Shitty jokes. Tell him the worst fuckin dumbass joke he'll ever hear, he will genuinely find it funny and a very small smile will cross his features. Man has the worst sense of humor.

Like dude, hit him with a "Why didn't the skeleton go to the party? Because he had noBODY to go with" and he WILL find it amusing.

I just realized I've been getting off the original subject oops let's get back on that

Okay come here. Closer. A lil closer. Yeah that's good. Now listen. Listen. Bake some bread for him. It doesn't matter the quality, he will SWOON. He will do that cartoon thing where his heart starts beating out of his chest istg.

It could be the shittiest fuckin bread anyone could have ever made but he won't care because you care enough about him and his interests to try and take a crack at it yourself for him.

It's one of the only times he'll end up dropping that normally stoic exterior. He will legit start tearing up and trying so hard not to smile like an idiot.

Oho, and don't think you are free from his own acts of service, oh no no.

If you're a fan of mushrooms, he'll make a lot of mushroom-based foods for you.

If not, I hope you like pie because he'll be baking a lot of it for you.

Apple pie, blueberry pie, pumpkin pie, you name it, he'll make it for you.

Yeah, during autumn he kinda gets into a baking frenzy. There's just something about the season that makes him want to bake anything and everything for you.

He will make you the best god damn coffee you've ever had if you're into that.

I said this earlier, but he will definitely knit sweaters for you so you stay warm. He'll also make it exactly how you want it, no demand is too much for him. Even if you're the kinda person who doesn't want to bother him with what you really want, he will insist you share all of your ideas with him.

Yeah, he really likes personalizing the things he makes for you. He just loves you so much, he wants to make sure everything he makes for you is exactly how you'd want it.

By the way, this boy does tend to overwork himself so be sure to tell him to take breaks! He's a bit stubborn with working, so drag him over to the couch for some cuddling if you have to, just make sure he doesn't overwork himself and he will appreciate it so much.

A good break for him is to take him out for a walk. Hold his hand as you walk beneath the colorful trees, he loves it. Maybe bring a warm drink as well to make it even better.

So in short, autumn with Kai is so so cozy!! He'll bake for you and knit sweaters for you and is oh so sweet to you!!

[merryfortune]

Encounter at Twilight Expedition to Humanity 

Written for the YGO Rare Pairs Mini Bang 23-24

Ship: Damselflyshipping | Aoi/Bohman

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,955

Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Secret Relationship, Humour, Developing Relationship, Getting Together, Confessions, Grief/Mourning

   “There’s a new update rolling out to Duel Discs tonight, I would appreciate it very much if you adhered to the advice to downloading it and were prompt in doing so.” Akira said over the dining table in a stern voice. Yet, he was so innocuously casual about it, punctuating the finish of his warning by taking another bite to eat of the meal in front of him.

   Aoi nodded, “I’ll do it.” she said, hiding a giggle.

   “I mean it, Aoi.” Akira squinted at her. “I don’t want you to skip out on it, it's very important as it will make uploads of your records so far in your Duel Disc and further insulate it from being hacked. I know you feel quite protected with the skills Ema and Yusaku et all have taught you but I would feel more peace of mind if you downloaded it.”

   “I will. I wasn’t being cheeky. Gosh.” Aoi replied.

   Now she was being cheeky but she couldn’t help it. Nor the giggle which had prompted Akira’s additional statement. She was just so giddy and fond. It was nice to be coddled sometimes, especially over dinner and by her brother. That’s why she found a little bit of laughter on her lips in between the seared steak and steamed vegetables that she was eating with Akira.

   They had been so distant from one another for all sorts of reasons, it was a dream come true that they had circled back to being close siblings again. Aoi wouldn’t trade that for the world. So, she wanted to cherish it, the mundanity of it.

   “I just have to plug my Duel Disc into my computer, yeah?” Aoi asked. “Let the updates take place, all that stuff.”

   “Yes, exactly.” Akira replied.

   “Then I’ll do it after I finish eating and before I go to bed.” Aoi said.

   “Don’t forget to do your homework either.” Akira said. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth either.”

   “Akira!” Aoi complained.

   Akira giggled, “sorry, sorry, a little overboard, I know. I just worry about you sometimes, that's all.”

   “I worry about you, too. So don’t forget to brush your teeth either, big brother.” Aoi harrumphed.

   “I won’t.” Akira smiled.

   Aoi smiled back and the conversation quietened from there. They finished their meal soon after and parted ways. Aoi had her homework and Akira had his business calls. It was pretty boring, actually, but Aoi had really come to appreciate the boring as of late.

    A lot had happened and a lot of it had happened out of grief and rage and mourning so it was kind of nice to go back to the small and rote.

    She and Akira had been put through the wringer in their duel with Ai and they were washed out quite badly by the torrent of his emotions. Then everything had gone quiet. Scarily quiet. Until suddenly, there was a change. Three months off the absence of Yusaku’s disappearance and then reappearance with Ai in tow.

   Now, they were six months now off the back of the ordeal with Ai and things were still quiet. But things had changed. After all, she and Akira now had these lovely little homemade dinners together every so often. Not every day but every couple of days which was a lot nicer than this time last year before any of the revelations regarding SOL Tech’s dirty little secret in the form of the Incident had occurred. The ramifications of which they were still reckoning with since so far, the only surviving creation from that abhorrent experience was Ai…

   So far.

   Yusaku was working hard, for better or for worse, to bring back the other five Ignises and that’s presumably why Akira’s security update was so important to him. He wanted to protect Aoi, still, and the company’s interests, too. And probably the rest of Den City, too, since they had seen - firsthand - how just a slice of Ai’s wrath could decimate and there were, allegedly, worse futures to come.

   Aoi merely hoped not.

   She wasn’t sure what else she could do except hope as time and time again, she could go as all out as possible with every weapon she had access to, and it still wouldn’t be enough. So, she wanted to believe that hope could change the world as she couldn’t imagine the apocalypse or armageddon unravelling over loss.

   Because she had plenty of loss, too. Her parents, her pride, and her partner, too. 

   Gosh, Aoi hoped that Aqua would return soon. She needed Aqua and Miyu to finally meet so bad but, better still, she wanted to see her own friend and partner again. That was probably the hope that she held on most to, the repairing of friendships because maybe that could change the course of the future and the world.

   Because God. Aoi missed Aqua. 

   And she knew Takeru missed Flame and then there were all the missed connections, too, with the other Ignis. Earth, Windy, Lightning. Admittedly, she didn’t know how those last three would go. She wasn’t sure how any of them would play nice with their Origins, particularly the latter two who had hurt their Origins in some way. Then there was poor Earth who had Spectre, honestly Aoi pitied Earth for that cosmic match-up.

   Though, if they could get along, that would have to be a tipping point for the better since more Ignis-Origin duos would get along than. So, Aoi could only hope it would turn out that way but she couldn’t see a world in which it would. Though, apologies and betterance would definitely be more difficult in the cases of Windy and Lightning with their Origins.

   Argh. It was all too difficult. Aoi was just an outsider looking in. She was close, she was on the other side of the looking glass but it wasn’t good enough. She wished there was more she could do but the best Aoi could come up with was… improving her duels off-screen and supporting the people in her life.

   So, that update on her Duel Disc she had to roll…?

   There was a weird cosmic match-up hidden within it as well.

   Aoi did the right thing. She found the adapter that she didn’t use all that often since her Duel Disc, modern and advantageous as it was, had wireless charging and then plugged it in. Tada. Twenty minutes of build-up - her ruminations, her rummaging around her room to even find the adapter - and then two seconds to plug it in. 

   After that, Aoi had the rest of her evening to herself. She could do her homework, she could go through combos with her paper cards. Or none of that, she could depression doom-scroll on her phone, too. The world, as little as it was as the world was just her room inside her and Akira’s luxurious, penthouse flat, was in her hands. 

   She turned her back on the computer and her Duel Disc then tried to make up her mind on how she wanted to spend the rest of her free time, about two-three hours at most. If she wanted to go to bed at a reasonable time then wake up in time, well rested, for school tomorrow.

   Then her room, dimly lit and cosy with fairy lights and a pretty vintage lamp, turned blinding white.

   Aoi’s heart seized as her dust rose pink walls turned an absolute pastel. She turned around and she had to squint into the abyss that had suddenly expanded out from behind the glass screen of her computer, amalgamated with what her Duel Disc could provide.

   Her lips trembled. Her voice bobbed up and down in her larynx as she froze with the unknown. Her eyes widened as this blinding light which kept her harrowed for a good few seconds then began to fade, as a figure - a projection, shadowed and with a silhouette she could place instantly, anywhere - began to take its place.

   Yellow sparks of electricity gave way to the colour of flesh as he looked over his hands. There was movement, the flapping of the billowing fabric that made up the eccentricities of his costume.

   “Where am I…?” he asked himself. “How am I…?”

   “Bohman…” Aoi breathed and then as soon as she named him, her common sense kicked back in. “What are you doing in my room?!”

   Her screech took Bohman by surprise. Even though this was her room, her computer, her everything that he had found himself inside of, she had mattered so little to him as he blinked and slowly turned his head. All of him came into view, his mane of brown hair and his eyes which were like fire. They were calculating, masking his confusion as he tried to find answers of which…. There was none.

   For either of them.

   “I know you.” Bohman said. “You are the true identity of Blue Maiden, a valiant enemy of mine.”

   Aoi felt oddly… flattered by Bohman’s description of her. Valiant. Definition: showing or possessing courage and determination. Neither were qualities she felt she embodied but of all the enemies she had faced, Bohman was by far the most noble, she would admit. He was regal. Graceful. Even now as he stood around - glitches half through him, turning his white gown blue and red - he had that aura about him. 

   “Why am I here?” Bohman asked and Aoi suppressed a gasp as a tear slid down the side of his face. “Where is Haru? I - I died. I should be dead.”

   Aoi swallowed. “You think I want you here? How should I know?”

   She chose that over anything to do with Haru. Their sibling story, she had duelled them both and saw elements of herself and Akira somewhere through it. Warped and twisted as it were. 

   “Ah. Of course.” Bohman said.

   He backed down and was disheartened to do so. He looked over himself. He looked just as he had against his final duel against Playmaker - something Aoi only knew from watching videos on the matter. Cobbled together, most of them copyright struck under false claims or otherwise dealt with so the wider public couldn’t see them. 

   A quiet settled between them. It was uncomfortable and uneasy. Neither moving from where they were. Aoi stood her ground by her bed and Bohman stood in the slats of the wood of her desk, a projection or something close. They stared at each other. Waiting, willing, daring for someone to do something.

   And Akira did.

   “Aoi? Are you okay? Who are you talking to?”

   Aoi could have jumped out of her skin. She was a teenage girl - almost a grown ass woman! - so why in the world did Akira have what was functionally a baby monitor on her. He was in a completely different wing of the apartment and he was paging her through the intercom. His voice came through with delay, like a crackly phone message.

   She rushed to it and held down the message button, so she could accept Akira’s call. 

   “Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” Aoi said and she cut Akira off before he could even reply.

   He, of all people, did not need to know that there was a male stranger in her room right now. Aoi even made it so that Akira couldn’t contact her through the intercom for the next hour. 

   “Okay, um, let’s talk.” Aoi said with her voice lowered. Bohman nodded and she drew closer. “So, are you… alive?”

   She felt rightful in her scepticism that Bohman was alive as an entity, he wasn’t solid. Not to mention, not dead and alive were two different things. She would know as someone who had been in and out of comas in the past twelve months. Though at least Bohman was awake, that then begged the question, especially since he was hips high in her desk, did he have sensation?

   Aoi reached out. She unfurled her hand, finger by finger. She felt like the kids in E.T. and Bohman mustn’t have understood the reference because he stared at her hand.

   “What are you doing?” he asked. 

   “Nothing.” Aoi said and she retracted her hand.

   Bohman groaned and his brows knitted together, “To answer your question however,” he said, “yes, I am alive.” He seemed irate that he even had to answer such a silly question. 

   He looked around Aoi’s room for more clues. Obviously the cushy teenage girl stuff on the walls wasn’t all that helpful. Nor was her computer as it was in sleep mode as it provided the battery for her Duel Disc to receive the updates over the course of the next couple hours then oh. Bohman realised it, too. Her Duel Disc, meanwhile, was of use and note.

   Bohman reached for it but his fingers phased through it. It caused the illusion of his appearance - strong, foreboding, ominous - to quiver and tremble. The grandeur of the appearance of man he embodied reduced.

   “Do you need help… with something?” Aoi asked uncertainly. 

   She stepped forward again. She reached out to him again, too, and became aware of how close they were. At least in appearance. Not so much in any other way. As when she finally touched him, sure enough her fingers grazed through the electronic illusion of him, too.

   And he recoiled, as well.

   “What are you doing?” he asked, moving away from her, his voice was grouchy as though offended a human would touch him. Or try to considering his current state.

   “Trying to help.” Aoi said. “Have you ever heard of a little thing called being nice to each other?” She frowned. Cutely. That disarmed Bohman somewhat. 

   “Yes, I am aware of the concept. Haru and I would be nice to each other occasionally.” Bohman confessed.

   Aoi’s nose wrinkled. That was… adorable. And sad. Like, really sad. She shouldn’t laugh so she didn’t. 

   “But yes. I would like your help. I believe the mystery of my reappearance begins with your Duel Disc. Peculiar as you were not the last enemy I vanquished nor the one I was vanquished by.” Bohman regarded her warily and his lips pressed together firmly. His expression turned hard and stony to mask the grief just behind his eyes as he thought of the person that Aoi - Blue Maiden - had conquered in her and her team’s invasion of the faction Bohman belonged to.

   Haru.

   “You killed him.” Bohman said. “You were the last person who saw him alive.”

   Bohman brought his hand to his chest. His fingers curled into a fist and held himself so tightly, a vein could have popped. 

   “I saw a vision of him in the finale of my loss against Playmaker but he was already dead by that point.” Bohman said.

   Aoi held her breath. She didn’t know what to say. Bohman was right. She did kill Haru. 

   “I’m so-”

   “Help me with this.” Bohman interrupted her. His eyes transfixed on her fiercely. “I am sure you and him are pivotal pieces in my immaculate resurrection. This Duel Disc may also hold some clues. As I cannot touch it, I would like it if you could investigate it in my stead.”

   His voice was measured as he instigated a tentative alliance. His expression as he spoke was devoid of emotion, also. His gaze bored down and into Aoi. It all mounted as a boiling pressure that made it worse for Aoi as she stewed with the guilt of knowing what had to be done. She recalled, in fragments, her duel with Haru and then reached for her Duel Disc.

   Static prickled on her fingers as she touched it and then. There was another burst of light. It was quick. Short. Blinding. Aoi was starstruck by it and the conversion of energy made Aoi’s hair blow back and dazzle her eyes. And when it dissipated, Bohman was gone. From in front of Aoi, at least.

   Now, she was holding him.

   From inside her Duel Disc.

   Like Pandor.

   Like… Aqua…

   The change disconcerted him, also.

   Aoi tilted the Duel Disc so that Bohman could look up at her. She had no doubt that he was seeing the worst angle of her: physically and emotionally. He had duelled Aoi as Blue Maiden and had seen both his brother’s killer in her and a noble soul, too. He respected her. More than any other opponent that Aoi had ever faced; not Playmaker, not Baira, and definitely not Spectre. 

   And yet… The grief of coming back to life without the one who would make life living for him, it calcified into a grudge, which Aoi could understand. She sighed, letting go of her breath but not the guilt which felt like a stone in the bottom of her stomach.

   She wasn’t sure what to do with herself now. Except assuage Akira that nothing was wrong. She was just having a stereotypical hysterical teenage girl moment for no reason. No reason at all, even. After that? It was going to be a long haul to find the answers to the questions that plagued both herself and Bohman and it was not going to be easy either.

   Not if Bohman had anything to do with it.

   And as it would turn out, it would be the smaller, more innocuous things that would be harder than the actual big questions they were grappling with. Things like school and the boring in-betweens their quest for answers.

   The following morning, Aoi had a shower and it was business as usual. She washed her hair and shaved her legs, applied lip balm and blow dried all over. She slipped into a pair of socks and did up her tie. When she came out of her bathroom, that’s when she remembered.

   The night before. It hadn’t been a dream. Her Duel Disc - she almost thoughtlessly collected up off her desk - was fully charged and now home to a malevolent yet eccentric A.I.

   “Good morning, Blue Maiden.” Bohman bade her.

   He looked so strange when he was reduced to being Ignis-sized. Aoi wondered if he had an alternative form as an eyeball, too. That would make sense.

   “Aoi is fine.” Aoi corrected him.

   She soured and turned away from her desk. She grabbed her schoolbag in lieu of her Duel Disc. This appeared unusual to Bohman as he folded his arms in front of himself.

   “Are you not going to ‘school’ today?” he asked. 

   “I am.” Aoi replied as she slung her back over her shoulder.

   “Then why aren’t you taking your Duel Disc?” Bohman inquired.

   “Because you're in it.” Aoi said.

   Bohman’s eyes turned piercing, “I demand to go to school with you.”

   “Why?” Aoi did her best not to snarl in her confusion.

   “I require your school’s networks.” Bohman said.

   “What do you need the school’s network for?” Aoi asked.

   “To look for Haru.” Bohman said. “I suppose I could do it from your room but-”

   Aoi’s mind raced. There was no way she wanted Bohman poking through her and her brother’s network. He would undoubtedly find awkward puberty questions she had asked through her browser’s incognito mode or embarrassing Blue Angel x Reader fanfiction that she had looked up out of morbid curiosity. And those were best case scenarios! And who knew what sensitive work that Akira took home…

   There was absolutely no need for Bohman to get his hands on any of that. Not that school was going to be better with the hundreds of students and who knows what but there was no way Bohman was going to rouse suspicions from her and Akira’s apartment.

   “Fair point.” Aoi replied and she snatched her Duel Disc up.

   Bohman ducked down beneath her palm as Aoi quickly did it up like a watch. She glimpsed that Bohman did, in fact, have an eyeball form and it looked how she imagined. He sized her up from this angle as she moved on. Though Aoi knew she had plenty of time to spare to arrive on time, she never wanted to risk it so she rushed on.

   Though, all whilst she walked to school, she had a bad feeling in her gut. Though, she typically had a bad feeling down there. Whether it was her period or paranoia that someone only wanted to be friends with her to get a foot in the door for their career at SOL Tech, Aoi was often outwardly a grump. This was different, somehow.

   Probably because she was harbouring an undead artificial intelligence that had tried to engorge himself on all the Neuron Link - and the other Ignis.

   Carrying Aqua around felt different. It was a completely different relationship. Aqua had attempted to be a saviour and ally of humanity after all. Not its ender. She had been bright and veracious with a pure core. Her appearance had brought Aoi back to Miyu and for that, she would be forever grateful, too. She’d also had more common sense around humans, too, Aoi mused as she pinned down the true worry which was turning to a rock inside of her. 

   Aoi just hoped that Bohman would behave. She could help him get to the computer room after lunch when they had free study. She could go up there and pretend that she was doing research for an assignment whilstBohman had free reign in his search. She did genuinely hope that he found something but only time would tell.

   She had to get through the first four periods of her day first, starting with good old mathematics.

   Aoi took her place at the back of the classroom and settled in for the morning. It had been a cloudy walk to school with that funny smell from before it rained thick in the air, alongside that of air pollution, too. She glanced out the window and saw that it had begun to rain, slowly and sparsely. She wondered briefly if it would get better or worse through the day as she hadn’t checked the forecast and now, there was no time to.

   The bell rang and the teacher took her place at the head of the classroom. First they had attendance and once everyone was accounted for, then the roll call teacher swapped for the actual mathematics teacher. It was all very boring compared to the raindrops racing on the window in Aoi’s fleeting moments of absent-mindedness.

   She still did the work, followed along and opened the textbook. Did the quiz on her tablet. It was all very dull and rote, not to Bohman’s liking at all as the mode of learning turned from passive to active as the teacher began to check in with her students.

   One by one, scattered and at random, the teacher plucked the minds of random students to make sure they were learning and paying attention. The questions bounced around, to and fro, front, middle, and back until it was Aoi’s turn apparently.

   “Zaizen-san.” the Teacher prompted her.

   “Yes?” Aoi replied, bobbing up from her school supplies, perhaps more surprised than she meant to be.

   She wasn’t blitzing all her tests and quizzes with one-hundred per-cent accuracy. She was an A to A minus kind of gal across all her studies, really only struggling in P.E. because look at her. She was a spindly nerd who liked to play card games in her free time but her daydreaming had been to a detriment. She had a lot on her plate, after all. Not that the teacher needed to know that as she waved her hand and it was like magic, the smartboard illuminated with a new graphic and the next question.

   “Find M so that the lines with equations -2x + My = 5 and 4y + x = -9 are perpendicular.” the Teacher said.

   Maybe it was because Aoi hadn’t been giving her hundred and ten per-cent attention but the intermediate question boggled her mind. The logic of the question raced through her as she did her best to figure it out, scribbling some notes but someone else tried to get in first.

   “The answer is-”

   Aoi acted faster than she knew she could act. Her heart had stopped but the rest of her had not.

   That voice. It was deep and robust and carried a sense of renown. Aoi wasn’t going to bet that people would recognise it from the incident in the Link VRAINS from last year but she also wasn’t going to take that risk.

   Aoi clamped her hand over the top of her Duel Disc. She didn’t look down from the smart board to do so, as that would look suspicious. She just hoped that Bohman would get the message that he wasn’t to talk during classes. That should have been obvious but apparently not.

   She smiled, baring her teeth, as she started again, “the answer is…”

   And lo and behold. She got it wrong where undoubtedly Bohman would have gotten it right. She felt a little bit embarrassed but embarrassed was far better than exposing her secret.

   Free period couldn’t have come soon enough. Only… twenty four more minutes to go until recess. Then another two classes. Then lunch then… Ugh… Free period was long, long ways off.

   Especially since her classmate Fujiki Yusaku seemed to have a sixth sense for when something strange was either going to happen, was about to happen, or had already happened.

   “Hey Aoi.” Yusaku said to her during recess.

   He wasn’t meant to be in this classroom but given his circumstances, some leeway was allowed so that he could continue to see his friends during school hours. Because of his stint of absence last year, and through goodness knows how much convincing, Yusaku was allowed to remain a student at Den City High School. In the same year as before. So this year, that put him and Aoi not only in totally different classes but years.

   “Hey… Yusaku.” Aoi replied through a fake smile.

   She had really hoped to get some time during the twenty minute morning tea break to scold Bohman. Lay down some rules about how this would work. He appeared to operate on a totally different plane of logic, reason, and common sense to her so figuring out some common ground was likely going to be beneficial. 

   But for now, she had to deal with Yusaku in front of her.

   At least in a crowded room of people, they couldn’t talk about anything too sensitive. Though given how wary Yusaku’s eyes were, maybe he only wanted to check in with her.

   “What brings you here?” Aoi asked.

   “Wanted to say hi to you.” Yusaku said. “And Naoki. I’m trying this new thing where I try to be more sociable.”

   Ah. That confirmed Aoi’s suspicions. He just wanted to be nice. But still. Aoi saw that micro-split second where he glanced at his wrist where his Duel Disc just peeked from underneath his sleeve.

   “Mm.” Aoi said, acknowledging Ai without saying anything.

   “Yeah.” Yusaku agreed.

   They paused a moment and Aoi figured, if Bohman could hear them, then she may as well ask.

   “Any luck with that project you were telling me about?” Aoi asked. “The science-y, computer-y one…”

   “Not really.” Yusaku replied, shrugging his shoulders.

   “That’s a shame but if you ever need a hand, I’d love to help.” Aoi replied.

   “I appreciate it.” Yusaku said.

  Aoi waited for a sign that maybe she had shown too much of her hand on that one but Yusaku’s eyes went sad. Understanding. Aqua.

   “Good luck.” Aoi bade him.

   “Thanks and I better go.” Yusaku said.  

   He awkwardly excused himself  and Aoi watched as he left. They never did figure out how to be bubbly sociable selves around each other. Yusaku wasn’t really like that but once her shell was open, Aoi could be. Even so, she hoped to still grow closer to Yusaku. His sudden disappearance had been heartstopping, he looked frailer for it but emotionally? Never better now that he had Ai by his side again.

   Sure, Ai and Aoi didn’t part ways on the best of terms but with all the pieces in place… Aoi could accept an apology. She knew it wouldn’t happen again, she believed in the redemption of the Ignis and wanted to see their peaceful coexistence alongside humanity. 

   With a tightening heart, Aoi glanced at her wrist. Her sleeve hid her sleek and shiny Duel Disc and it of course hid Bohman. Aoi could feel herself on the precipice of some kind of revelation or epiphany on the topic. Maybe she should have been more forthright with Yusaku. Maybe she’d made the right decision not to tell him. As she wasn’t sure yet whether to believe in the redemption and co-existence of Lightning’s creations alongside humanity.

   Though, first they had to find and bring back Haru. As a younger sibling, she wouldn’t want Akira to be lonely without her and she didn’t want to be lonely without Akira, either.

   The class bell rang again and Aoi did her best to shuffle her thoughts along. She had to focus on her education and better still: free period.

   That last block of the school day seemed ever more tantalising than usual with her secret burning a hole in her. Aoi bided her time, counted the minutes until finally, their teachers gave them the spiel and speech like clockwork. They were becoming young adults blah blah blah and so could host their own study sessions, conduct themselves in whatever manner they deemed suitable in their maturation. 

   Aoi, who was in good standing with the teachers as she was generally more on-task, courteous, and mature, wasn’t even given a second glance when she requested as much privacy as possible in the computer room. Luckily, no one else needed it, not when other students were content with just their tablets so she was entrusted the keys.

   With a smile, Aoi graciously accepted them and then counted to ten once she had heard the computer teacher walk away before putting up her jacket to the glass window on the door. The computer room was on the second storey so hopefully no one could peer in through the windows to the far side of the room. Though Aoi wasn’t certain how big or how little Bohman’s efforts to use the network could be, she won’t lie. She was expecting fireworks.

   “It's all yours now.” she told him and as she unclipped her Duel Disc from around her wrist. She placed it on the flat of the desk in front of her then sat back lazily.

   As an eyeball, Bohman warily checked his surroundings first. As discreetly as he could, the pupil moved slowly from one side of the glass to the other. Then, satisfied that it was just him and Aoi, he revealed himself in full. It was like watching an angel ascend, there were beams of light and the unheard choir, Aoi could swear as she was blinded once more by Bohman’s appearance. He projected himself out of it and thus, towered over the computer room.

   “I appreciate it, Aoi.” he told her.

   “Your welcome, just… be quick.” Aoi mumbled.

   Bohman nodded once and then got to work.

   Aoi had heard once a debate about how if one had all the knowledge in the world, what would that be like? Would it be insufferable? That the total and completeness of it all, the torrent of information would be so overwhelming that it would actually be impossible to discern at all or. Would it be pure and perfect clarity?

   Based on what she could tell from Bohman, it was definitely the latter.

   He was graceful as he brought the network to life and then manipulated it from this real life realm of flesh and blood. Although, he brought his native world of the digital into this one through the Link Sense that Aoi had heard so little about and the results were beautiful.

   The room with cream walls turned a pale blue. Yellow data glittered around them, coalescing with white sparkles and blue lasers that all went in straight lines, never bisecting or otherwise criss-crossing. Forever and perpetually perpendicular. Bohman could freely change their directions however, with just a quirk of his eyebrow, a twitch of his finger, or if he was feeling especially bold: a command in the Ignis language.

   Aoi had never heard Aqua speak it, but she had heard from Yusaku and Takeru that it was actually quite painful on the ears. It was a language of shrieking and screeching, beeps and boops. Not from Bohman’s mouth. It sounded alien, yes, but almost angelic coming from his deep voice. 

   This went on for what felt like eternity, to Aoi anyway. In actuality, it was mere minutes. That may as well have been an eternity to Bohman who could calculate mathematics instantaneously, who had a supercomputer for a brain and then there was nothing.

   Dramatically, it all fell silent. To darkness. Just the cloudy and overcast weather creeping in through the far windows and Aoi’s jacket blocking out the fluorescent lighting on the other side of the door.

   Bohman’s shoulders slumped forward and he sighed, malcontent.

   Aoi’s stomach dropped. That didn’t feel like a good sign as she watched Bohman close his eyes in frustration.

   “A-Are you okay?” she asked in a whisper quiet voice.

   “I have not found what I am looking for.” Bohman announced, a touch of irateness to his voice.

   Aoi swallowed a lump, her mouth dried. “But you did find something?” She dared to ask. She sat up straighter.

   “I did.” Bohman said. “I found five of the six Ignis.”

   Aoi blinked.

   Then blinked again as she found herself unable to hazard a stunned, “What?!”

   Yusaku had spent the better part of the last six months on the hunt for the Ignis. He could only turn up Ai which made sense. They were partners, Ignis and Origin after all but now Bohman turns up out of nowhere and in a matter of minutes, finds the other five? What?

   “I assume the Dark Ignis is alive and well, living with Playmaker?” Bohman inquired. “Hence why you spoke in code with his true identity as Fujiki Yusaku earlier?”

   “Correct.” Aoi replied.

   Bohman’s expression turned unreadable.

   Aoi didn’t know what to do, if Bohman wanted comfort or if he wanted a solution. Not that she had any idea on how to provide either to him. Her lips quivered.

   “Why is it a bad thing that you’ve found all the Ignis?” she asked, her eyes watered. “I want to see Aqua again, I want Aqua to reunite with her Origin.”

   “Because I do not know how to face my creator or his kin.” Bohman replied, cross. “I do not know if he knows how to face his creator or his kin, either. It is an uncomfortable situation with more banes than boons. I can tell your companionship with the Water Ignis is true but more heartbreak is to be carried than not. And there will be none without the other for I am a hammer, not a scalpel.”

   Bohman gave a flourish of his hands and Aoi gasped. Her eyes went wide. Within his palm, once more, he held all of the Ignis. Those felled and those submitted to him.

   Aoi felt sick to her stomach. It was just their skeletons, really. Their desiccated corpses. A scatter of a data which was in perpetual motion, occasionally taking on an angle or a memory of the Ignis that it actually represented.

   Then, just as quickly as he revealed them, Bohman hid them. He crushed them, curling his hand into a fist and Aoi had to bite her tongue not to make a pained noise. They weren’t alive. There was no malice in Bohman’s movements. Just grief.

   “What should we do with them?” Bohman asked.

   “Why are they here?” Aoi asked, trying her best not to let her voice crack lest she sound hysterical.

   “They weren’t. They were in every corner of the Link VRAINS. I found them there.” Bohman said. “I could have found them from your bedroom but the flow of Link Sense, it is stronger where there are people. The Neuron Link can find minds, connections better amongst people than in isolation. How peculiar.”

   “Yeah… How peculiar indeed.” Aoi bitterly agreed.

   “Now, it seems we are at an impasse, Blue Maiden.” Bohman said and his demeanour turned freezing cold. His eyes hardened as he looked down at her with contempt. “I did not find any clues regarding my resurrection nor locate Haru’s status or whereabouts. Yet now, I have something you want. I am not merely a burden to you.”

   “You don’t have to threaten or intimidate me into helping, Bohman.” Aoi fought back. “I’d help regardless… It's the least I can do after… after what I did to Haru.”

   Bohman was taken aback, a flicker of guilt though his face which he corrected. He put his hand over where his heart should be, “Thank you.”

   “And,” Aoi added, posturing, “lucky for you, I’m good friends with someone who can help us. Though, you having something he really wants is kind of a big help.”

   “Playmaker.” Bohman exclaimed.

   “Exactly.” Aoi nodded. “But let’s not bother him just yet. Let’s actually strategise, figure out what the best course of action is.” 

   “Of course.” Bohman agreed.

   Aoi got up and she took her jacket off the door. Any longer, and they would look suspicious, surely. Bohman took the hint and shrank back down into a more compact, Ignis-like size. Aoi checked the time and that gave them wow. Half an hour or so to figure out what they wanted to do next.

   Find Haru. resurrect the Ignis. Play nice with humans, in particular Yusaku. See? Easy. Or at least one could only hope. And then afterwards, they could get ice-cream then all go their separate ways. 

   Of course, nothing could be that simple. Though only time would tell, so Aoi had her fingers crossed. Tomorrow was a new day. And until it was tomorrow, the school bell rang its final toll whilst they were hanging out in the computer room, completely unattended, and that was enough research and clue gathering and strategising. 

   It had been a long day and it was almost triumphant to return home, no matter how exhausted. Except, what Aoi didn’t realise, was that her bedroom would become a battleground also as Bohman didn’t have as much common sense as he liked to think.

   “Bohman.” Aoi said, snippy, holding herself. “Aren’t you going to turn around?”

   He blinked, “What do you mean?”

   “I want to get changed and I already had a shower this morning, I don’t need another one…” Aoi said, waiting for Bohman to catch the hint but he merely stared vaguely nonplussed. “And would like to get into my pyjamas.”

   “Then get changed?” Bohman said.

   “I can’t, not with you looking at me.” Aoi replied, her tone of voice starting to pitch upwards as she blushed.

   And it was then - and only then - that Bohman realised. Albeit very slowly.

   “Do humans take their clothes on and off… manually?” he asked.

   He was realising it even slower than Aoi thought.

   “Yes, Bohman, how else would we change our clothes?” Aoi asked rhetorically. “Real life is not like the Link VRAINS!”

   “Oh…” Bohman murmured.

   He stroked his chin thoughtfully and Aoi continued to stare, bright red and              Sceptical. He finally came to the conclusion that she was waiting on.

   “And you don’t want me to see your nakedness?” Bohman said.

   “Obviously!” Aoi squealed.

   “Why? You have nothing I have never seen before and your assets are undersized for a woman of your age.” Bohman said, immediately putting his foot in his mouth.

   “How dare you?!” Aoi shrieked. If she could have, she would have loved to have pounded her fists on Bohman’s big, dumb chest but instead, she was frozen to the spot with wounded pride.

   Her offence spooked Bohman. He was genuinely taken aback by it and so, he did his best to salvage Aoi’s good graces. He turned embarrassed and consulted the great, big wealth of knowledge he knew he could rely on: the internet. And he found something he thought would quell Aoi’s rightfully placed rage. He saw now that commenting on women’s physiques was quite the faux pas.

   But this should help, he was sure. His brow furrowed as he donned a most serious expression which burgeoned with earnestness. He put his fist in front of his mouth as he cleared his throat and lowered his hand. He spoke up loud and clear with nothing but the best intentions to smoothe over this transgression he had inflicted upon Aoi.

   “Fret not, Aoi, for flat is justice!” Bohman proclaimed. 

   Aoi’s jaw dropped.

   That was… very much not where she thought that was going to go. A simple apology would have sufficed. Now she was even more embarrassed than before. Worse still, Bohman was still going. 

   “Though I am worried that you are underweight, it comes from a place of concern for your welfare. Do not worry that you are small, your uniqueness is valid and aesthetically pleasing in other ways. I did not mean to intrude on your privacy, I simply did not realise just how different A.I.s are to humans-”

   By that point, Aoi gave up listening to his platitudes. She could tell his heart was in the right place but by the stars above he was unbearable. She mightn’t have been able to hit him but she could still shut him up.

   Aoi grabbed her pillow and threw it at the wall. It phased right through Bohman but he got the point as he was startled by his incorporeal self tingling with the sensation of the pillow cutting through him then thumping on the wall. She had - thankfully in hindsight - missed her very expensive computer sitting on her desk.

   Bohman cleared his throat again, now it was his turn to be embarrassed, “I went… overboard. I apologise. I should not have remarked on your physique or made you uncomfortable. That should have been the end of it.”

   “I accept your apology.” Aoi said, calming down. She could feel her cheeks cool.

   She and Bohman exchanged a sheepish glance.

   “Ah, of course. Now is my cue. I - I will turn around now.” Bohman said.

   He stiffly turned around then sank into the depths of Aoi’s Duel Disc. She smiled a small smile and turned around herself. That was a huge drama to do something as simple as switching her skirt for a pair of shorts and putting on a soft sleep shirt.

   Still, it showed her another side of Bohman and Aoi didn’t mind that faucet of him, oddly enough. He was sweet and sheltered, frank and earnest. Larger than life. A tranquil fury and a klutz at the same time.

   She had seen many sides of him today, actually… It was nice. She had seen him serious and playful and boisterous and fearsome.  Aoi could admire that Bohman, just like a real human, had plenty of faucets to him and his personality. It was strange just how human this inhuman man was. Lightning had designed him oddly well in that regard. 

   It made for food for thought, at the very least. Maybe too much of it because Aoi could hardly sleep tonight.

   It had finally sunk in. She was technically sharing her room with someone right now and that someone happened to be male and, from certain perspectives, quite handsome. When he wasn’t being a malevolent entity hellbent on the destruction of humanity.

   The following morning, Aoi was not her usual cheery, perky self. Not that she was like that very much outside of text messaging and the internet but still. She was worse than usual with her resting bitch face, she felt. Gave Yusaku the right impression, however, that when she mentioned before school she wanted to talk after school, she meant serious business.

   “Okay, I’ll see you Friday…” Yusaku mumbled. He was a little confused. Understandable, it was weird to make hostile feeling plans for the end of the week before the middle of the week but Aoi folded her arms.

   “Good.” Aoi nodded. 

   She mentally ticked off the notebook in her head. Ding! That was one less thing to worry about. Her list - ingenious, foolproof, even - looked a little like this:

   Step 1. Ask Yusaku to meet up with them.

   Step 2. Exchange information on the Ignis.

   Step 3. Profit.

   Okay, they hadn’t really thought it through. A lot of step three depended on how well step two was going to go and Aoi was nervous for the worst of it. She had an awful gut feeling all day but Bohman didn’t believe in woman’s intuition - or human intuition for that matter.    And that was that.

   For now at least.

   After all, step one was complete.

   They had the rest of the week to deal with now and with yesterday under their belt, the whole rigmarole of school went much more smoothly for Aoi and Bohman. She’d made a promise. She wanted to help Bohman, so she made it a top priority to corner Yusaku so they could put the first phase of their plan in action.

   Now they just had to bide their time. 

   And so, outside of the whole keeping a sentient A.I. hidden from her brother, the guy who would probably hunt him for sport, and the other guy who would also hunt him for sport, it was all smooth sailing. Surprisingly. It was kind of easy. Her brother was rarely home. One of Bohman’s biggest enemies was stuck at sea to evade justice and the other, well, Yusaku had other things to worry about for now.

   It's just a shame that hiding Bohman was kind of boring…?

   They were building up a rapport. A certain new layer and level of respect between one another as former enemies and adversaries.

   Sure Aoi had things like homework and assignments to do but they were also very boring. So, when Thursday rolled around, after a humdrum Tuesday and Wednesday, with the big day tomorrow and an even bigger weekend to follow, she decided to pitch an idea to Bohman.

   “Hey tonight,” she said to him at her desk, putting down the pen which belonged to her tablet, “let’s watch a movie together.”

   Bohman had been watching. Aoi made it a point not to ask him for help. She wanted to be the master of her own destiny and so, that included doing her own homework even if she had the most powerful supercomputer in the world right next to her. He pushed his shoulders back and quirked a brow.

   “With me?” he asked, folding his arms.

   “Yes, with you.” Aoi said.

   She slumped over her desk and leaned over it, she kept her head propped up with her hand and elbow. She looked at Bohman.

   “Why?” Bohman asked.

   “‘Cause it’d be fun?” Aoi replied with an upturn in her voice.

   “But I know how every movie ends, all of the trivia, everything.” Bohman said. “I feel I would not be entertained, defeating the purpose of your species’ cinema.”

   “Okay, sure, you know how it ends but what about the feeling of watching it? Experiencing it for yourself?” Aoi asked.

   “Oh, um, I suppose that is not something I can reduce to data without living it…” Bohman replied, miffed to have been countered and now successfully roped into watching a movie.

   Given that it was Aoi’s idea, she got to pick the movie. So, she had fun picking an old favourite of hers which was collecting dust on the metaphorical shelf. No one owned DVDs anymore. She didn’t pay much mind to picking something she thought Bohman would enjoy. That would spoil part of her fun, she very rightly predicted that seeing him react with confusion at irrational love stories and the like would be quite amusing.

   Though Aoi would provide just as many enticing reactions for Bohman to dissect, also.

   She had chosen quite the iconic, girl depression comfort food movie for them both. It was based on a very old western novel and chronicled the relationships of a bunch of fussy people who wore very beautiful clothes. There was also a scene in which the male love interest was drenched to the bone in water whilst wearing a shirt which turned see-through.

   It also had another scene that Bohman found… odd.

   Girl lust was low-key terrifying for him and he could see Aoi goon in the corner over her literally sopping wet eye candy but this was different.

   Aoi was curled up on the far end of the lounge. This was the most daring they had been as a pair since their sudden reunion. Akira was at work and wouldn’t be home until the wee hours of the morning, when Aoi would be fast asleep but it was still odd to be in the living room as they were. Aoi had set down her Duel Disc on one end of the lounge and then herself on the other, covered in a blanket and the darkness.

   Except for the light that the television cast but this scene, its lighting was dimmed as Aoi’s attention was kept rapt. She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes shiny as she listened to the dialogue. Her heartstrings clearly tugged on but Bohman didn’t see the appeal.

   This was an apology.

   Admittedly an apology far better than the one he had offered the other night regarding his quasi body shaming faux pas, though. But it was still an apology.

   Aoi sucked in her breath and made a whinnying noise. She tried to hide it because it was embarrassing by hiding her face in her hands, pulling up her blanket some more but the effort to hide it just made it more obvious. Her eyes glimmered with tears, turning them bright and shiny in the dark.

   “That was my absolute favourite part.” she whispered at the end of the movie.

   The heroine and the love interest were kissing now as it faded to black. The credits rolled, too.

   Bohman grunted in acknowledgement of being spoken to.

   “What did you think?” Aoi asked as she turned her head.

   “It was… fine.” Bohman replied.

   “Ugh, really, just fine?” Aoi complained.

   Bohman turned his head and gave her a puzzled look. He genuinely didn’t know what to tell her, what she wanted to hear. She huffed discontentedly.

   “Did you at least like it?” Aoi asked.

   “I told you. It was just fine. It was filled with irrationality and etiquette that does nothing to advance proper communication. The face sucking-”

   “You mean the kissing?” Aoi interrupted him to laugh.

   “Yes, the kissing, it was also disturbing. I find it difficult to believe any pleasure can be derived from placing your tongue into another person’s mouth. Humans are hotbeds of disease and bacteria, I’m glad I’m not one.” Bohman said.

   For once, his disgust of humans came across more humorous than not. It made Aoi laugh.

   “Why did you enjoy it?” Bohman asked, hoping flipping the conversation back onto Aoi might save him some trouble.

   “Oh? Um, well, it's romantic. And full of pretty people. I think the way it explores that stifling social convention, the etiquette that stops people from saying what they truly mean, creates a lot of tension. So it means more when the guy apologises to the girl and then they kiss after. I like it.” Aoi rambled.

   Bohman hummed thoughtfully and his eyes glittered with something unnatural. 

   “I see.” he said after a pause. “Consulting cinematic databases, most movies in this genre of ‘romance’ feature that apology.”

   “Yeah, the grovel.” Aoi said. “It’s a power fantasy.”

   Bohman went quiet then repeated himself, “I see. Was my apology from earlier this week satisfactory?”

   Aoi laughed awkwardly, “Oh, don’t sweat it, it's fine.” she said. “Real life isn’t like the movies. You’re still thinking about it? Don’t worry about it.”

   She started to ramble and was somewhat taken aback by how reflective Bohman was. Maybe he was too introspective for his own good. Not that she could talk. She could depress herself in circles, going around and around with circular thoughts overthinking and overcomplicating things.

   Aoi stole a glance at Bohman. His expression was, well, contemplative. He stared at the credits intently so Aoi reached for the remote. She turned off the television.

   “It’s bedtime for me.” she said.

   “Of course. Good night, Aoi.” Bohman said.

   “Good night, Bohman.” Aoi returned his platitude. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

   “We do.” Bohman agreed. “I wish you a restorative sleep.

   “Thank you.” Aou mumbled.

   She got up and took her blanket with her. She held it close as a strange feeling began to bubble and toil within her. She felt oddly flattered that the misunderstanding that had had the other night weighed so heavily on Bohman. Aoi could laugh about it now but it did worry her.

   What else was Bohman holding onto if he was dissatisfied with the resolution of an embarrassing moment? That made them oddly alike. Aoi still agonised over silly, stupid moments from as recently as last month to years and years ago.

   More and more, Bohman humanised himself in front of Aoi.

   His rage. His grief. His embarrassment. His joy. It all coalesced and made Aoi turn more than just fond for him. She wondered what tomorrow would bring as she settled into bed with the hope that… tomorrow wouldn’t be goodbye.

   That’s right.

   That it wouldn’t be. It probably would be but she didn’t want it to be. She had finally gotten to know Bohman and she didn’t want him to slip through her hands again because he deserved so much more.

   He deserved to know what it was like to be lov-

   Aoi stopped herself there as she came face to face with the realisation that she had a crush. It would be presumptuous to call it anything more. Surely. 

   Aoi slept uneasily that night and did her best not to show it the next day. Bohman had big expectations of how things would pan out and Aoi didn’t want to muddle them by becoming attached to him so she did her best to show restraint. Expect the worst, hope for the best. That sort of thing.

   And so, after a long day of school, Aoi met with Yusaku on the roof. It seemed like a good setting to have a private word with another. Unlike earlier this week, the skies were clear and blue, as far as the eye could see until the skyline got cluttered with skyscrapers and billboards. So not that far. Over the horizon anyway, up? It just got bluer and bluer. 

   Surprisingly, just like their prospects.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?” Yusaku asked, he held onto the strap of his bag and remained close to the exit. Just in case he had to bail, Aoi would deduce. Though his demeanour was cool and smooth.

   “I don’t know how to put this so I think it's best if I just show you.” Aoi replied.

   This was the part she had been worried about. She really didn’t know how Yusaku was going to react but poorly felt like a good bet to make. She began to raise her hand, bent at the wrist so her Duel Disc could poke forward from under her sleeve and that gave Yusaku everything he needed to know. 

   Aoi could feel the air freeze between them. Yusaku drew in all the tension in the air and held it. Solidified it. It all but winded Aoi as she allowed Bohman to introduce himself.

   First as an eyeball. The yellow and red colouration was fiery.

   Then as himself. Albeit tiny. He rose out of Aoi’s Duel Disc making a rather majestic entrance despite the limited capacity of him at that size and connected to the technology Aoi wore on her wrist.

  “Salutations.” Bohman said, nodding.  “It has been too long, Playmaker.”

   “Likewise.” Yusaku replied. He chewed on the vowels of the singular word hard but thoughtfully.

   His expression was hard for Aoi to fully decipher but she felt confident in some guesses. Disgusted, confused, outraged, maybe more. She had gone through that exact wringer herself about a week ago now but it would be more difficult for Yusaku. He had dealt the final blow to Bohman and their relationship up to that point had been quite entwined, too. The complication between all three of them was thick and impalpable.

   “Let’s just rip the bandaid off,” Aoi said, “through unknown circumstances, Bohman is back and whilst investigating the who, what, when, and why of it, Bohman found something.”

   “Correct. I found the remaining Ignis.” Bohman said.

   Yusaku’s eyes went wide, the frenzy in the flecks of green stood out somehow with barely hinged rapture, “You what?” he exclaimed.

   At this cue, Ai had to get involved. He leapt out of Yusaku’s Duel Disc, stretching around like taffy. He barked and yapped, wanting answers as he produced sobbing tears of overwhelmed grief. He clipped into the Ignis Language and it grated on the ears of the humans - and tugged on Aoi’s heartstrings.

   “I’ve seen them - and trust me. You don’t want to.” Aoi quickly added.

   There was a pause as Yusaku corralled Ai. He placed his hand over the top of Ai’s head.

   “For your cooperation, I will release them but only if I get the answers I am looking for.” Bohman negotiated, grandeur dripped off him despite being doll-sized when he was waist deep in Aoi’s Duel Disc. “I want to know why I am here and where Haru is?”

   “I recall the pair of you walking off together, into the rockslide.” Yusaku said. “I thought it was a trick of my eyes.”

   “It must have been.” Bohman agreed. Lamented, really.

   “But…” Yusaku said and he lifted his hand off the top of Ai’s head. Ai’s expression changed as he folded his arms, his eyes furrowed as he snickered to himself. “This does confirm what I was afraid of.”

   “Pardon?” Aoi prompted.

   “I told you.” Yusaku said coldly. “My “computer-y project” as you put it hadn’t had any luck. However, the unintended consequences of it have produced what you are after Bohman. Searching for the remaining Ignis, I found Haru’s remains and yes, I have them in a safe place.”

   “Nyeh, take that.” Ai piped up. “Now, give me my friends back.” He made fanciful gestures, flailing his arms around in a way meant to give the appearance he knew kung-fu or karate.

   “Well, Bohman, once more I believe it is our fate to Duel. There is something I want to know before I release Haru back to you and that is: do you belong alongside humankind with the rest of the Ignis?” Yusaku asked.

   Aoi’s heart leapt to her throat. 

   That was the succinctness of the matter, wasn’t it? She had been pondering that herself now, too. She worried what would happen if Yusaku won and Bohman did not prove himself as a peaceful entity… Her knees knocked.

   “I accept your duel.” Bohman said, giving Yusaku no indication of what he had experienced the past couple days.

   The bewilderment of having no purpose, being reborn into a world which did not want you nor expect you. The agony of losing his brother. The embarrassment of a social faux pas. Watching a movie and connecting with fantasy. The friendship he had kindled with her, his previous adversary, Aoi felt sick to her stomach.

   As far as she was concerned, she realised now, Bohman was human to her. Fully and utterly actualised human to her. Just not to Yusaku and based on Bohman’s grave expression, not even to himself.  She felt helpless to watch as the challenge was agreed upon and then acted through.

   “Into the VRAINS.” Yusaku said as he brandished his Duel Disc like the weapon it was attached to him.

   There was a flash and Aoi followed in hot pursuit of Yusaku as he changed into Playmaker, transforming through the cybernetic veil as they all entered the Link VRAINS. 

   The high school’s rooftop gave way to the hinterlands of the Link VRAINS. Where else but nowhere for the likes of these heroes - and one villain - of the cyber world. The rocky out cliffs floated in the middle of endless, azure skies streaked with white clouds and cyan lighting.

   “Stand aside Blue Maiden.” Bohman said. “There is no need for you to get involved.”

   He pushed his hand out towards her, trying to brush her aside and yet it was oddly protective in manner. Playmaker watched this gesture carefully. Blue Maiden simpered. She was always being pushed aside and she did step back but she wanted to watch. She needed to watch. Her heart throbbed in her chest as she clasped her hands together.

   “I’m staying.” she said.

   “Fine by me.” Playmaker said.

   “Thank you, Blue Maiden.” Bohman told her.

   Blue Maiden smiled faintly. Hesitantly. She nodded and internalised her own role as a spectator. A judge. An adjudicator. A strange in-between where she was all those things and more and none of them, too. She was an unnecessary accessory to the duel which was just about to begin but then. Bohman spoke once more.

   “Playmaker, an olive branch, if you will.” Bohman said as he reached out his hand across the field. At his fingertips, a Data Storm began to whirl. “The ability to use Skills in a Master Duel.”

   Playmaker’s expression was unreadable.

   “We’ll take it!” Ai bounced up.

   “No, we won’t.” Playmaker said. “I only need my own skill. Not a cheat, not a hack.”

   “Aww…” Ai deflated.

   “I understand.” Bohman replied as he rescinded both his hand and his offer.

   Blue Maiden hummed to herself. She would admit, she would have taken the offer. Though, she wasn’t sure if her Blue Maiden skill would be all that helpful if she had to stare either of them down but if there was one thing about Playmaker, it was how committed it was to his ideals.

   And yes, they were ideals.

   The duel commenced shortly after.

   It was a clash of wills, the culmination of history turning into a brand new future to become an inevitable present.

   Playmaker wanted the Ignis back. Bohman wanted his brother back. Neither would back down from the equality that they all wanted to live but who deserved it? Who would ruin it?

   Blue Maiden chewed her bottom lip as she tried to slink away from all the hard and difficult questions that these two foes locked in battle posed. They took to either side of the field and finally, at long last, it began. A die was rolled, a coin was flipped, Playmaker would go first and Bohman would go second.

   The back and forth that ensued was brutal. And that was just the playing of cards. How they were flicked and slashed through, summoned and sacrificed, made fodder for a no holds barred beatdown.

   Then there was the conversation, too.

   “Have you changed, Bohman?” Playmaker asked, snarling. “Are you capable of change?”

   Bohman was silent.

   “Can I trust you?” Playmaker asked.

   Bohman was silent and as was Blue Maiden. She didn’t have these answers, either, but had wanted to see the two brothers reunited, nonetheless. And she wanted to see Aqua, again, of course, and more. Her stomach churned with anxiety as Playmaker threw himself into this duel.

  He needed to know that everything he had worked towards with Ai was going to continue. That his custodianship over the Ignis would be his legacy. This urge propelled him forward as he overwhelmed Bohman.

   Not something that they had seen in their prior duels. A curbstomp wherein the boot was worn by Playmaker. Even so, Bohman was stalwart. Even in the face of a defeat which loomed.

   It was his turn again. His field was in shambles. His next draw may very well be his last so it had better be a good one but there was still one more move that he could uniquely make.

   “I invoke… Storm Access!” Bohman said.

   His back was against the wall and thus, his arm shot up. His expression was stern, however, not desperate as he pinned his hopes on what would be drawn forth from within the indigo tempest of the Data Storm. At his command, it whirled and roared, spun and raged until… until… until… it petered out.

   The storm passed and at the eye of it: with a blink, it dissipated but Bohman had a new card. A Link Monster. With Six Link Ratings. Or so both Blue Maiden and Playmaker were able to notice from afar as Bohman brandished it, his soul stopped with the hope that he would not fall off the cliff of failure.

   His duel had been suspiciously free of random number generation manipulation so far so there was a chance, this card had not been consciously called forth or otherwise created to counter this specific incident.

   Bohman slowly lowered his arm and for the first time, he saw the card and he named it.

   “Perfectatron Hydradrive Angel…” Bohman murmured.

   Blue Maiden gasped, her heart skipped a beat. No, it wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be possible, right?

   “Thank you.” Bohman said and he brought this card close to his chest. “You will do superbly.”

   It was. Apparently.

   And so Bohman began his counter attack.

   He went above and beyond with what tools that he had, what cards he had at his disposal. Blue Maiden watched with bated breath, in prayer, her hands clasped, that Bohman would…

   Win.

   She felt guilty wanting Bohman to win but seeing that card, knowing what it represented, she felt her heart began to wander. She wanted the best of all worlds, of all outcomes but she knew well this was a game of pure division: win and lose, victory and failure. There was no way to both sides this as she gasped.

   Her eyes widened. Her ears pricked up. Even Playmaker was in awe from across the arena.

   “The angel who oversees humanity: I beseech thee, I require your power of hopes and dreams. An emissary of perfection and a divine entity who believes in the future: Link Six, Perfectatron Hydradrive Angel!”

   His voice boomed through the arena as his Link Markers lit up. He sacrificed what he needed to from his field and he did it. Bohman did it. He had brought forth Perfectatron Hydradrive Angel.

   It - no, she - was beautiful. A Medusa-like figure with hair akin to the smaller Hydradrive wyrms which featured soft, rounded wings as well as a tail more fish-like than snake-like. A colour scheme of monochromatic, steely blue save for the pink teardrop on her cheek. Her hands clasped in prayer and her head tilted forward to meet them once her summoning animation finished. 

   Playmaker smirked, “What a good-looking monster. It suits you.” A taunt which wasn’t a taunt at all, an honest observation merely made fanged by the way in which Playmaker and Bohman were ever so oppositional.

   He genuinely looked forward to Bohman’s counterattack. Just what effects did this angelic being disguised? Would they be enough to win the duel?

   Bohman’s convictions which followed appeared to follow through that his literal Hail Mary would be the figurehead of his victory. 

   Perfectatron Hydradrive Angel tried and tried again, under Bohman’s warlord-like command. Together, they were in ultimate synchronicity. She weaved through the battlefield like an avenging angel but the courage that she encapsulated was cut in two by Accesscode Talker for game.

   Accesscode, of course, being the blood, sweat, and tears that Playmaker embodied turned into a glittering ideal of connection. It was hard but it was inevitable. 

   Playmaker had done it. He had done it before Bohman, even. He had pierced through the veil of death and brought back his most important partner. Heck, he had such a person close to him. Multiples, now, if you could imagine such a thing. 

   Ai, Kusanagi, Ryoken, Takeru, and even Aoi. More, too. 

   Who did Bohman have? Haru? Who waited in the clutches of Playmaker to be rescued. They still didn’t even know why Bohman had reincarnated at all through Aoi’s Duel Disc.

   Playmaker thrust out his hand and his chest grew in volume as he readied his final command: Accesscode, go straight for the throat, for Bohman. His eyes were viscous and Blue Maiden could not bear it.

   Yet Bohman was ever stoic. He held his Duel Disc at the ready as he watched Perfectatron Hydradrive Angel disintegrate before his eyes. Slowly but surely, a beautiful farewell of glittering, silver data.

   Blue Maiden couldn’t help but feel Bohman’s imminent loss as much as him. Maybe even more so. After all, her avatar - in the literal sense of the word, not the digital one - had been the coalescing of all his hopes for victory and it had failed him. It was a pertinent story. She, herself, had done her best time and time again but she was more an emissary of defeat than an angel of victory, it seemed.

   “You can stop.” Blue Maiden said, standing up for herself and Bohman.

   She stepped onto the field - though it was dangerous to do so. She didn’t care, however. She needed to be by Bohman’s side and to stop the piercing onslaught that Playmaker wielded so precisely that it became a baneful slaughter. But she would not allow him to wreak that havoc.

   Blue Maiden extended her arms out to Bohman and Bohman blinked in surprise. She gave a gesture with her fingers, flicking them, coaxing him closer.

   “You have done extraordinarily well.” she praised him, eyes tearing up. “Trust me. I would know.”

   “Thank you, Blue Maiden.” Bohman replied but he didn’t accept her invitation to embrace.

   Though he may not have realised that is what it was. Playmaker didn’t either, not until Ai shrieked like a fangirl at the movies, anyway.

   Blue Maiden hugged Bohman in front of her. He dwarfed her physically but her love dwarfed him. But down her back, she shivered. She could still the feel the final assault that Playmaker had on Bohman’s remaining monsters and life points. It was intense. Ferocious. Every bit deserving but she felt that as adjudicator of his duel, she could judge that it was not necessary.

   She turned her head and grit her teeth. Out of the corner of her eye, she stared Playmaker down as he was mid-command over his monsters.

   “Bohman has conceded, you can quit your showboating.” Blue Maiden snapped.

   “I have.” Bohman said, graciously bowing his head. “I formally concede. You have won, Playmaker.” He wrapped his arms around Blue Maiden.

   Their heads brushed up against one another. It was the most movie perfect hug ever done by two people who were not known to be physically affectionate - and in Bohman’s case, the first and only hug he had ever performed. Thus, it was very awkward and painful to watch but Playmaker didn’t mind being an audience to.

   Blue Maiden had successfully stopped Playmaker, stopped his voice and quelled the fury that he had allowed himself too much of. He took a breath and it was apparent he was not pleased with the person that he had become just now.

   “I accept your surrender as an official loss.” Playmaker said.

  “I recognise there was no surrender in your past. Only win or lose. Miyu told me that.” Blue Maiden added.

   “Thank you, Blue Maiden.” Playmaker sighed.

   The Monsters disappeared from either side and Playmaker crossed the field. Given that Blue Maiden and Bohman were already congregating, it seemed only natural that he would meet with them. Not expect that they would come to him. His stride was more normal now. He was letting go of his anger.

   Thus, Playmaker smiled warmly as he watched the outcome of Blue Maiden’s interruption. His eyes fluttered close and he tried to hide that he had ever smiled at all but it was obvious. There was a discrete glow to his expression as he opened his eyes and glanced to Ai, holding him high and dear to his face.

   “Oh… Don’t be cute now.” Ai grumbled, folding his arms and pouting. “Not after everything you put us through.” 

   “I think it's all water under the bridge now.” Playmaker said with a hefty exhale of his breath. He meant it. He wanted to mean it and more.

   Blue Maiden’s spirits soared and was helpless but to smile wide as she let go of Bohman, “Thank you for understanding. For believing.”

   “I only believe in things I can see with my own two eyes.” Playmaker said and then deepened his voice so it boomed across to the duel field to address Bohman, “Alright, let’s exchange data.”

   Thus, from across the duel field and across from ideologies, Playmaker and Bohman met halfway. Blue Maiden followed along, too, and was somewhat chuffed to see them meet eye to eye. Toe to toe even as they got up nice and close for the exchange.

   The wind blew and seemed to have entire conversations with just their eyes. Blue Maiden wasn’t privy to them but the respect they had for one another had fully solidified and so flowed off of them as they not just matched each other’s movements but mirrored them.

   In total synchronicity, Playmaker and Bohman lifted their hands. Playmaker lifted his right hand and Bohman his left. Ai kept hidden within Playmaker’s Duel Disc but he bucked up what he had been holding onto for dear life the entire time: Haru’s data. In that mirror reflection, Bohman revealed the palm of his hand and the sparkle of his own Duel Disc lit up in the five colours of the dead Ignis.

   Blue Maiden smiled, sincerity sparkled in the dewdrop of the tear she was about to shed. She orbited closer to Bohman than to Playmaker, however. Even though she was on the precipice of seeing Aqua again, she wanted to share in the bittersweet joy of having Bohman reunite with his precious brother. That meant a lot to her as a little sibling herself.

   “Welcome back, Haru.” Bohman said as he delicately handled Haru’s remains. The data was sparkly and yellow, within the fragments he saw snatches of Haru’s memories.

   His duel with Aoi. How he poked and prodded Kusanagi Jin out of curiosity and boredom. Their own moments of serenity, too, in Lightning’s palace.

   Blue Maiden placed her hand on Bohman’s upper arm and gave him half a squeeze from the side. It was a hug but Bohman didn’t really do hugs so he was startled by her contact but glancing down at her, with the fondness that radiated off her as she smiled, he returned that kindness. He nodded at her.

   “I could not have done this without our alliance.” Bohman thanked her. “You could have made things more difficult but you chose grace over grudge. Thank you.”

   “You're welcome.” Blue Maiden said and she let go of Bohman. She stepped aside, too.

   Bohman lifted his head and did not meet Playmaker’s gaze. Understandably, he and Ai were having their own reunion, too.

   Playmaker who was famously private and did his best to seem invulnerable, because weakness was punished, opened up. Just a little, just enough to convey how cathartic and satisfied it was that the Ignis he had worked so hard to protect were in his hands.

   Safe at last.

   He wasn’t crying but he wasn’t dry-eyed either. He and Ai, they spoke softly amongst themselves. Ai, meanwhile, was actually bawling as he held onto what he could of the intangible data of his kin.

   “We shouldn’t stare.” Blue Maiden whispered to Bohman but she felt somewhat the same way.

   She couldn’t wait to have Aqua in her hands, too, by her side and, more importantly, by Miyu’s. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be a victim of the Incident and an Origin of the Ignis…

   “Ah, of course.” Bohman replied, blinking. He hadn’t even realised he was staring.

   Blue Maiden glanced at him as he turned his head. There was an indescribable flicker of emotion across his face. Indescribable, yes, but Blue Maiden had a guess: envy. Or a yearning to have the same, to be cherished by a human, irrefutable proof that through emotions and connection, peace was possible.

   Still, out of the corner of their eye, they watched as Ai reached up and hugged Playmaker. His arms wrapped around him as his body bent and flowed, stretching like taffy from the throne he had made of Playmaker’s Duel Disc. He nuzzled against Playmaker’s damp face and he exhaled audibly. He was ready to move forward, onto the proper reunion as it were. Not just the repatriation of the Ignis’ remains. Ai understood that instinctually and after three seconds retreated all affection unto Playmaker.

   Upon the conclusion of that embrace between Ignis and Origin, Playmaker’s expression hardened as he met Bohman’s gaze. He spoke up again.

   “It’ll require some help but I can forward Blue Maiden the instructions. She should have the hardware you will need to give him a semi-physical form again, it doesn’t take too much tinkering. I imagine it is the same process as bringing Ai back as Haru is an Ignis, too, but if it’s not, please, reach out and we can cooperate to find a better way to bring him back.” Playmaker said. He took a breath then added, “If you ever need a SOLtiS body compatible with Ignis code, Ai has plenty he doesn’t need. It could be useful.”

   “I appreciate your olive branch also, Playmaker.” Bohman said. “Thank you.” He bowed his head.

   Playmaker did the same. Ai, too. They both held onto the sparkling spectrum of the Ignis and Blue Maiden felt her heart swell. The hostage exchange was complete but something else was, too. She wanted to believe it was the hostility between humanity and the Ignis. Finally, they had something in common.

   Grief. Love. Companionship. She was certain that would be the bridge to a happier future.

   “We will take our leave now. We have much to do ourselves.” Playmaker said.

   “When we see each other again then.” Bohman replied.

   “Yes, we’ll be seeing you.” Blue Maiden piped up. “See you later.”

   “Bye, bye!” Ai chimed in.

   He waved goodbye exuberantly from Playmaker’s Duel Disc as Playmaker logged them out. They disappeared in the slow blink of an eye, a muted flash of blue and white data then nothingness. Now it was Blue Maiden and Bohman alone on the rocky platform of the Link VRAINS’ hinterland.

   With Haru, of course, though only in spirit.

   But with everything which had happened - the duel, the winners and the losers, the exchange - there was much to say. Blue Maiden could feel it. Her chest was heavy with an overabundance of words she wanted spoken and feelings freed. It was much the same for Bohman it seemed as he turned towards Blue Maiden.

   He stored Haru for safekeeping within the depths of his Duel Disc. the yellow data dissipated in reverse as he moved it over the convex glass of it and then he readied himself. He pushed his shoulders back and he stared deep into Blue Maiden’s eyes.

   It intimidated her.

   Yet it was an intimidation tinged with trepidation. She could handle it. 

   “Thank you, Bl-Blue Maiden,” Bohman’s voice cracked as he took her hand, he shook his head and as his eyes watered, he corrected himself, “no, Aoi, for reuniting with me with my little brother.”

   “I, um, barely helped.” Blue Maiden squeaked.

   “No, you did your best. You taught me much about the world. The real world.” Bohman said. “You showed me kindness, humour, forgiveness, and more. Now this, how could I ever repay you?”

   “Pl-Please, don’t, it's… it's hard to hear.” Blue Maiden modestly replied.

   “I mean it. From the very bottom of my heart, one I did not know existed until you showed me.” Bohman said. “I have learned so much about humans, about humanity. Your humanity and… even mine. I might be hasty but I believe I love you, Aoi.”

   Blue Maiden - no, Bohman was right, this was Aoi - felt her heart tremble in her chest. She was moved incredibly by Bohman’s words. They were kind and warm-hearted yet overwhelming. His hands squeezed her own.

   “I want to exist more in the real world. I want to experience more and I hope you would allow me to experience that world alongside you.” Bohman said. “If you would have me, and, of course, Haru also.”

   Bohman came down to his knees in front of her.

   He was so tall and large yet he made himself small at Blue Maiden’s foot. He bowed his head to her, the crown of him reaching to about her midsection. His hands trembled in his, his vulnerability empathetic. 

   Bohman reached down and he kissed her hands. He sprinkled kisses along her knuckles as he begged.

   “I apologise, Aoi, for everything.” Bohman said.

   The likeness struck Blue Maiden almost momentarily as she savoured Bohman’s everything. His demeanour, his tone of voice, how his lips felt on her skin. His genuine tone was like music to her ears but the softness of him was akin to divinity.

   But then she realised and she had to suppress a laugh. It was just like that scene in her favourite movie. He was performing the grovel that he had seen in the film. 

   “I forgive you, Bohman, of course I do.” Blue Maiden replied, teary. “I… I think I have a crush on you, too.” 

   Bohman glanced up at her, thunderstruck by the admission. The disbelief glittered in his yellow and orange eyes, as though he couldn’t believe his ears but when Blue Maiden reached out and squeezed his hands in return for his own affection. That’s when he knew. It was real and it was true.

   “Thank you, Aoi.” Bohman said.

   Blue Maiden firmly grasped his hand but her attempt was made feeble. After all, Bohman was larger than her and that visual musculature did translate into actual weight but her gesture conveyed her heart, nonetheless.

   At his full height, Bohman spoke again, “I want to revive Haru and have you both meet on better terms. That would mean a lot to me.”

   “I want you to meet Aqua in much the same way,” Blue Maiden told him, “and my older brother, Akira, too.”

   “I’d like that very much.” Bohman replied. “So, let’s bring him back, yes?”

   “Yes, yes, of course. Let’s do it, straight away.” Blue Maiden agreed, her excitement quickened the sound of her voice.

   Bohman nodded and together, they logged out.

   The motion of it knocked Bohman around, however. He had almost forgotten he was more restricted in the ‘real’ world as he found himself in Aoi’s Duel Disc again. She unclipped it from her wrist and placed it on her desk.

   She got off her sofa so she could walk off her own dizziness of the log-out too, as well as that aforementioned excitement. She did little laps of her room whilst Bohman got organised.

   He could hardly contain himself as trepidation caused his fingers to tremble as he produced Haru’s data. With a wry smile, he thought to himself: he hoped there was enough room in Aoi’s Duel Disc for two but then he recalled Playmaker’s offer. However, in the meantime, he was careful as he threaded the rest of Playmaker’s instructions with Haru’s data.

   It was nerve wracking business. Aoi couldn’t watch except out of the corner of her eye. It was all very arcane to her knowledge. Slow and difficult, it had to be done right but Bohman persevered.

   At the end of it, he announced in a clear voice: “I’m ready.” 

   Aoi felt her spirits soar as her shoulders lifted. She came to a standstill and turned around tightly so she could hang by her desk. She knelt on her lounge and held onto the edge of her desk for leverage as Bohman centred himself. Calmed himself and then.

   It was just like before, with him. Aoi’s Duel Disc lit up in a way it hadn’t before and then voila. There was a blinding white light that erupted, it filled the whole of the room before dissipating from the outwards in, the data disappearing like embers cast out from a fire until at the centre of it was Haru.

   Though between him and Bohman, there wasn’t much room. Luckily they were brothers and they had missed each other so much.

   Waist deep in the glass, Haru was astonished to be there at all. Bohman’s hand quaked and a tear glimmered in his eye as he placed his hand atop of Haru’s shoulder, they stood together in a single file line. Haru jumped out of his skin and looked around in disbelief, bending every which way as he tried to understand. Questions and astoundment clogged his mouth as Bohman turned him around.

   Then hugged him.

   A simple, quiet hug.

   Aoi turned her head but Bohman clicked his tongue, getting her attention.

   “Thank you,” he said, “thank you, Aoi, for reuniting me with my brother.”

   Bohman began to sob. Grief, relief, gratitude. It all welled up in him and had nowhere else to go but out in the form of teardrops to be cried. His chin pruned and his cheeks dampened and he didn’t let Haru go.

   Haru smiled sadly and hugged Bohman back, “I’ve missed you, too, big brother.” He patted Bohman on the forearm, as far up as he could reach.

   Together, the two brothers savoured the moment for as long as they could. Being dead felt like an eternity, not knowing if the other could be found and brought back even longer even if it had been just a week.

   Aoi watched, innocently, and her heart pounded. She tried to calm it but the urge to speak and break the silence was too much. She had her own piece that she needed to say.

   “It’s, um, good to see you again, Haru.” she piped up.

   Bohman and Haru’s ears pricked on her voice and they rescinded their embrace of one another. They awkwardly shuffled around in what little room they had in her Duel Disc.

   “It is good to see you again, Blue Maiden.” Haru said and there was a shine to the smirk that followed. “I made the right choice entrusting myself and my brother to you.”

   Aoi’s eyes widened and Bohman reacted much the same.

   “What do you mean, little brother?” Bohman asked.

   “I… I couldn’t help myself.” Haru began to guiltily explain. “I wanted to live. I didn’t want to die by Lightning’s orders. I’m sorry and… and I wanted to live with you, Bohman. I wanted us to be brothers. Alive and well. So, um, when I lost to Blue Maiden in our duel, I secreted away copies of our back-up data.”

   “Oh, Haru…” Aoi murmured, eyes watering.

   “You were a good opponent, Blue Maiden. I was impressed and even went easy on you.” Haru couldn’t help but tease, to ease off the sincerity that he otherwise emanated.

   “Hey. I won fair and square.” Aoi pouted.

   Haru laughed, “I know. You did.”

   It pleased Bohman to see Aoi and Haru get along, bickering as it may be. There was a fondness to it which endeared him greatly.

   “I see.” he said. “Thank you. Please do not beat yourself up for being selfish like that.”

   “Thanks, Bohman.” Haru mumbled.

   Bohman looked out toward Aoi again, “I… have been too harsh on you regarding the matter of my brother, I see now.”

   “You were grieving, you didn’t have all the information, anyone would lash out.” Aoi shrugged. “But thank you.”

   “I appreciate it.” Bohman said. 

   Aoi smiled demurely, all but glowing at Bohman’s words and how pleased she was with them. 

   Haru, meanwhile, rolled his eyes and got the sense that a lot had happened between them in his absence and so, was doing his little brother duty to be grossed out by it on principle. Some things never changed. Human or A.I. in that regard. There was clearly something about goo-goo eyes…

   “I, um, hope we all get along. You and me, you and Haru, both of you and Akira.” Aoi added generously.

   Though the undercurrent spiked at the mention of Akira. Interpersonality of the micro level was all well and good but there were forces at play larger than themselves. Aoi could well wish all she wanted because there was no telling how things might turn out but both Bohman and Haru wanted to believe it was for the better.

   None of them knew if second chances could work out if given. The future was not set in stone like they had once believed per Lightning’s writ of it. Aoi was proof of that, their own resurrection was proof of that but they all wanted to try to make it work so that humanity and artificial intelligence could live in harmony.

   For now, Aoi truly was going to be the angel who oversaw that, just like the new Perfectatron that Bohman now had in the arsenal of his Extra Deck. Watching not just humanity, but him, and Haru, too so Bohman hoped to do his best to make use of the love and second chance that she had granted him. That would be his new goal - his new dream as it were - now that he had Haru back. All thanks to her.

[some-pers0n]

Hello im. Sorry to bother you but I see you on my dash as "the will wood person"(well also the tf2 person and the wof person but that doesn't pertain to this) and was thinking about listening to his stuff but idk where to start do you got any recommendations?

Yippee!! I managed to be so Demented about William Woodard that it made me the "Will Wood person" to somebody :))) That's so silly

Okay, so recommendations. It's...really quite difficult to recommend stuff from Will because a lot of his music is quite varied and it kinda just depends on what music you've already listened to. If you've gone down the Jack Stauber, Tally Hall, or Lemon Demon path, chances are you're going to be somewhat on board with his music.

Will Wood is an experimental music artist who never exactly sticks to one sound. He said he doesn't quite like it. Self-Ish, his second album, he considers a concept album due to the fact that it's mostly grungy and rough vocals with frantic and wild instrumentals all with lyrics spouting stuff relating to a singular theme. However, if you ask me there are some things about him that stick out as being "Will Wood".

Piano. A lot of his songs have piano. In some places, what other songs would have as a guitar riff, is a piano bit. Piano (along with the baritone ukulele and also occasionally glockenspiel) is his main instrument.

Jazzy instruments. Saxophones, trumpets, all that. In his latest main album, In Case I Make It, Will forgos that sort of jazzy tunes a lot in favour of more calm and folk songs, but they still linger.

Tons and tons of lyrics. Will's lyricism is one of the main draws of his music to me. He often writes about his own experiences with his mental health and struggles in his songs. Themes of mental illness, being loved despite being human, and generally just being a person trying to get through this messy, cold world.

Yeah that's about goes for the constants.

Okay, so, depending on your music taste, I don't know how to quite recommend stuff. His newer album, In Case I Make It, is a lot more folksy and softer than his previous work. It still has that Will Wood flare, but just with less loud screaming matches between Will and an alto sax. His earliest albums (Everything is a Lot and Self-Ish) are more edgy and dark with those grungy and gravely vocals. The Normal Album is a middle ground.

I personally believe the best way to experience Will Wood is to listen to the albums, but for individual songs? Here's some ordered from softer to more intense.

Skeleton Appreciation Day (Bones), Everything is a Lot

When Somebody Needs You [Song], Camp Here & There

That's Enough, Let's Get You Home., In Case I Make It

White Noise, In Case I Make It

Venetian Blind Man, Camp Here & There

...well, better than the alternative, The Normal Album

Falling Up, In Case I Make It

Against the Kitchen Floor, In Case I Make It

The Main Character, In Case I Make It

Memento Mori, The Normal Album

Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!), The Normal Album

I/Me/Myself, The Normal Album

Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialects, but I Need You To Leave, The Normal Album

BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA, The Normal Album

Suburbia Overture, The Normal Album

The Song With Five Names, Self-Ish

Mr. Capgras, Self-Ish

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con), Everything is a Lot

Dr. Sunshine is Dead, Self-Ish

Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!, Self-Ish

Aaannnddd if we're giving song recommendations, I also highly, HIGHLY recommend checking out his live stuff. Not just his live albums (those are fantastic though), but live performances recorded of him. They range from in-studio and professionally done recordings to somebody with a phone. I love them.

Here are some performances I recommended for one reason or another.

The entire BBQ show, as it shows off Will's character a lot as well as being fairly charming and fun (also good music)

Marsha Live in the Studio

Mr. Capgras (this one's I think something he did with patreon people)

Mr. Capgras/White Knuckle Jerk (WFMU radio)

Yeah that's about everything off the top of my head. See ya.