#which translates well in big bold lines so you can see it from far away

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

I love when they add the little triangle to Gus’ nose; it makes his face look more skeletal and gaunt. 

[nejiraez]

date night gone wrong | todobakudeku hc

@remi7k requested: Could you bless us with headcannons of the guys reactions (Bakugou, Shoto, and anyone of your choice) on a date with their S/O and the waiter keeps flirting with her in front of them and it’s pissing them off. Por favor❤️❤️

© all rights reserved, reposting is NOT allowed on any platforms along with modifying/translating and plagiarism. 

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Bakugou doesn’t like eating outside food. He always prefers his cooking over the “processed crap” that fast-food chains and restaurants provide.

So if he were to be taking his S/O out, chances are that he’s not eating shit. He’d much rather watch you eat and be content while he just sips on a glass of water.

So, the one time that this grump is thoughtful enough to bring you out to eat on a date? His patience is tested and by the waiter of all people. 

Bakugou doesn’t appreciate the way your server keeps throwing you heart eyes whenever he passes your table. Bakugou’s not stupid, he has eyes just like the average person does and could see how attractive you were.

So the fact that you’d gain a few pairs of eyes on you was nothing out of the norm. However, the fact that someone was doing this so boldly, right in front of him? In front of your B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D?

Either they’re thick-skulled and couldn’t pick up on the fact that you two came here together, alone, on a date, or they were provoking him purposefully.

Either or, it pissed Bakugou the fuck off.

“See?” Bakugou says, nodding his head across the room towards the waiter who kept giving you fleeting glances. “This is why I said we have food at home.”

“Relax, he’s harmless…” You say, nudging your elbow into your boyfriend’s side to shake him from the dirtiest, stank look he was throwing at the server any chance he could get. “He’s just doing his job.”

Oh, but Bakugou doesn’t think so. Not at all. His eyes don’t miss the way the waiter gets all fidget-y whenever he hands you your plate, or how his eyes linger lower than they should be whenever he comes to refill your glass.

Bakugou hates it all.

And God forbid if your waiter tries to flatter you with those “It’s on the house” or “It’s on me” lines when they try to woo you with free dessert.

Bakugou would be quick to snag the pint of ice cream from grasp, shoving a spoonful of the treat into his mouth. “She’s lactose intolerant. So, beat it.”

Knowing damn well you weren’t.

“--Katsuki!”

By the end of it all when he was paying the bill for you (to which he begrudgingly left a tip for, on your behalf and yours alone), he makes sure to take you by the hand, fingers intertwined with yours to say, “Okay, let’s leave, babe. This shit’s got me tired.” Ensuring that the word babe, rolled nice and slow off from the tip of his tongue.

Bakugou asserting his dominance all while being a petty, yet protective, boyfriend. ~

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Honestly, Todoroki’s gonna miss the first few signs that your server may be trying to get with his S/O. But that’s all because this man only has his sights focused on you.

He adores watching how giddy you become whenever your orders come by, or how you urge him to taste some of your food.

“So what’s the event for tonight? You two came down here as friends? Hanging out on a Friday night?” Your server would ask you directly, not really caring for Todoroki’s answer. His back would even be facing your boyfriend every time he swung around.

And that’s when things began to go downhill.

“Oh!” You laugh to dial down the tense atmosphere that had suddenly swirled around your particular booth. Todoroki was still, and you don’t miss the way his jaw tenses at the ‘friends’ title. “We’re actually-”

“I’m her boyfriend, actually,” Todoroki interjects with a clipped tone. He frowns at his food, picking at the plate with an uninterested glare. “We’re together.” 

You thought that affirmation would have been enough for the guy to cool it on his flirtatious tendencies, but God no.

“Ah, I can see why!” He casts a playful wink your way, “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

Your eyes bug out at his bold confession and a concerned smile graces your lips, all while Todoroki doesn’t even bother masking the fact of how peeved he is. 

Without his knowledge, Todoroki’s quirk is set off and the table is encased in a layer of his glossy, cold ice all from the power of his right hand.

An as soon as your waiter leaves you two to your own devices, Todoroki is quick to act.

He wastes no time in switching seats, to get up from his spot only for him to slide into your side of the booth that he could be seated right next to you. “How irritating.” He’d hiss under his breath, taking a harsh stab at his food.

For the remainder of your date night, Todoroki acts hard-headed, making the job for the waiter ten times harder than it needed to be.

Anytime that the waiter would try to hand you your plate or a new glass, this motherfucker absolutely would not move an inch.

So to get to you, the guy would have to go through him first, quite literally. That, or he’d have to politely ask your stoic boyfriend to move out of the way, to which Shouto would respond with a curt “Hurry on with it.”

You’ve never seen him act so out of character before (which was kinda attractive), the same law-abiding guy that you once knew was now prompting you to engage in a “dine and dash” with him.

To put it short, you two never stepped foot in that restaurant again.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Midoriya would do the absolute most out of the three to show that you two are dating, as a means to shoo away his competition.

He’s not big on confrontation, if anything, he’d try his damned best to avoid it. So he would probably opt out of the option of telling the waiter directly to “quit hitting on his S/O”.

Rather, Midoriya would always bring up the subject of your next upcoming dates with him, whenever the server so happens to pass by. “So, for our next date, where would you like to go? Anywhere... away from here?”

And he’d play footsies under the table with you to try and induce a laugh to show how much fun you two were having, that, or he’d ask for your hand across the table so he could hold and graze his thumb against the palm of your hand.

He’s very passive-aggressive about this. Making sure that his love for you is being shown but in a very loud and brazen fashion.

Hell, he’ll even step out of his comfort zone and go as far as to ask you to spoon feed him so of your food. “Can- May I try some of your food?”

And if that shit doesn’t work?

“Um, excuse me, but does your restaurant celebrate anniversaries?” Midoriya would question once he’s managed to successfully flag down opposing male to your table. “Because you see, my girlfriend and I are celebrating our second year anniversary today and she was really hoping if you’d put something together for that.” 

The way you’d have to bite down on your tongue to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble out past your lips. Watching Midoriya become all ‘territorial’ over you was one thing, but for him to go to such lengths… and to pin it on you?

Midoriya’s pride swells at the fact that a look of dejection flashes across the server’s face the moment the word “girlfriend” was left to linger through the air.

You’d have to sit and watch as the entire staff and kitchen would come out from the back, bringing you two cake and playing their song to celebrate you both, all while it wasn’t even your damn anniversary. 

Midoriya on the other hand was enjoying it all. Flaunting off your relationship with him to scare off potential homewreckers was the highlight of his night out with you.

© all rights reserved to @nejiraez​. reposting is NOT allowed on any platforms along with modifying/translating and plagiarism.

[natromanxoff]

Mercury Roadrunner's Interview about Freddie Mercury with Peter Freestone – Part II

Thanks very much to Mercury Roadrunner (Pavel Strashnyy) for letting me share his amazing interviews! Originally shared here.

Check the tag "MR interview with Phoebe" to see the other parts. Here are the 3 main topics of this interview, beginning of each topic is written in bold:

1. Language skills

2. Music videos, Garden Lodge

3. Celebrity friends, leg damage story, Joe Fanelli, relationship between band members, Freddie's last days

PS: So here is our second part and the first topic is about Freddie’s language skills:

Did he actually know only the English language or did he also know the Gujarati language or any other languages?

PF: When his parents were in Garden Lodge or if he called his mother on the telephone, he only spoke English. I suppose, he must have understood Gujarati, because, okay, in the school he was taught English, but before the school, when he was in Zanzibar and he would have been with is parents, so I would have thought they would have been speaking in Gujarati.

He had about twenty words of German after living in Munich for so many years. He couldn’t speak German, but I think he understood the language, if he was paying attention, because most of the people around him were talking English, so he never really had the need to learn German. Although, saying that, one of his partners, Winnie, was German and did not speak a lot of English, but then he had Barbara to do the translating.

PS: The second topic is about a very special song “Mad The Swine”, which was recorded in 1972, but was released only in 1991 as a B side of “Headlong” single. Why, after so many years, Freddie decided to come back to it and release it?

PF: Freddie knew that “Innuendo” was going to be his last complete album and I think that this song had a special place in his heart, there were something about it, and as far as he was concerned, it never got an airing he felt it deserved and the rest of the band was happy to put it on.

PS: I mentioned the “Headlong” song and you can be seen in some archival footage of making of the “Headlong” video, you help to lay the Queen members on the shelves. What are your memories about that day?

PF: I was just there to help them. When they are making a video, they don’t need someone to take care of costumes, because there is a costume person, there is a makeup person, everybody is there to do something. And so I was there for Freddie, looking after him, and it just seemed natural to help out. And the band would feel more comfortable if that was someone that they know who would help to put them on the shelves rather than some technician turning up and trying to do it. And this moment with selves wasn’t’ planned. That wasn’t in the storyboard, it’s just that they saw it, there were four shelves so they just thought “Well, why not? Let’s do something crazy”. And the idea must have come from the band member, because Rudi would have seen all the possibilities when he was checking out where they were going to be doing the filming, and if he had thought of using the shelves, that would be one of the ideas put in the beginning.

PS: There are also some parts where we can see you in “The Great Pretender Extended Version” video - can you remember anything about it?

PF: It was just a big long laugh. There is not one part of the making of the actual scenes that they are not laughing and smiling. Roger, Peter and Freddie – they just clicked, it all worked. Nobody had to be bigger than the next one, nobody had to take the spotlight, and they just were there, having a good time.

PS: What is your personal favourite memory from that day?

PF: Personally, for me it is watching the recording of the six girls –you know, both of the backing group were girls, they were wearing two different outfits – and watching the recordings, when they were recording the one group of three and then the other group of three, the costumes they got in to and what they did – you couldn’t help but feel really-really happy. They were actually standing on the same platform when they were recorded. And then, of course, they used computer graphics to put two different groups on the screen at the same time. Just watching three of them there on the platform, waving their hands goodbye, it brings back the memories of those groups of backing singers in the sixties.

PS: What are your memories of making of the “Breakthru” video?

PF: I remember that it was probably the hottest night of the year, no sleep, because it was just so hot and humid. They had a huge problem with the opening scene, and they shot that last in fact. But they had a huge problem because when the engine went into the tunnel it caused air pressure so that that polystyrene wall burst out a long time before the engine arrived. So they tried it earlier on and that’s when they found that that’s what happened, and then they had to do playing around with it during the day, there was people doing that while the rest of the filming was going on, and then they had to sort of re-do it and it was the last shot. And the engine was actually already in the tunnel before it started getting up a bit of speed. And it wasn’t going as fast as people think it does, so that it looked right. It was a fun day. Only the band and the actual film crew were allowed on the flatbed, where the band were performing, because of the way it was being filmed, you could easily be in shot, so the less people that were there – the better. John was having a ball, I remember him laughing a lot, he was enjoying himself. And there was a normal carriage, like a dining car, but old, 1930-1940s, and that was where we would have food and drink. And it was wonderful. It’s a working old train line, it’s a tourist thing, but it’s great, it’s really-really nice and it’s not that far away from London. And Freddie was enjoying the shooting. I was surprised when I saw what he was doing on that flatbed, he was leaning over the edge as the train was going along, but again, it looks faster than it was. It really was only going at about 25-30 kilometers an hour. But it’s made to look as though they are speeding along.

PS: And what was the very first Queen video you were presented on?

PF: The very first video that I was involved with was “Save Me”, because it was shot during two shows of the “Crazy Tour”, I think it was at “The Rainbow” and it was shot at “Alexandra Palace”. Because it was the mix of the live action, the cartoon girl, the bird – and that was the hardest thing – to get Freddie to almost catch the bird, the pigeon. They had to re-film it for about 15 times. And it was where David Mallet, the director, fell of the stage into the orchestra pit. Everybody panicked for a few minutes, but then he stuck his head up “Oh, I’m alright”. It was about 2-3 meters he felled. And then followed all the post-production with the girl, with the cartoon, and how they blended the live pigeon to become the cartoon one and all that sort of work – all of it was done afterwards and it was done before Christmas 1979.

PS: And what was the very last Queen video you were presented on?

PF: “I’m Going Slightly Mad” video. I remember the penguin on the couch moment. Actually most of all I remember the way Diana was with Freddie, because she just took such a good care of him, she had special thermal underwear made for Freddie, because right from my meeting with Freddie in 1979 I remember the easiest thing for Freddie was to feel cold. And it only got worse the more sick he got. And she had special thermal underwear made for him that went underneath the shirt and the suit. She just was there for him all the time and it was just wonderful to see.

PS: And did Freddie usually have cold hands or he had normal temperature of hands?

PF: He could have normal warm hands, but often they would be cold. So maybe he could have a blood circulation problem.

PS: Can you remember something about the shooting of “I Want It All” video?

PF: I don’t think I was at that one, because that would have been Joe, Joe Fanelli would have been there, because we sort of took in turns – he would go to one, I would not, I’ll do all the stuff at home, then I would go to one and he would stay at home.

PS: And it was also the same for you take the turns in concerts?

PF: No, I was on tours with Freddie from 1979 till 1985 and then Joe took over from the last part of 1985 and 1986.

PS: And why you stopped going on tours and Joe took that part?

PF: Because Garden Lodge had been completed and to keep the insurance cover someone had to be living there, so I got to live there. I moved in six months before Freddie did. And Freddie moved in in the middle-end 1985. Because what we did was – Freddie was at Mary’s home and Terry and I took Oscar and Tiffany away from Stafford Terrace. Because Freddie was supposed to move in and he kept putting it off again and again, he said “I’ll do it tomorrow”, “I’ll do it at the weekend”, there was always a reason, an excuse, so what Terry and I did – we went and kidnapped Oscar and Tiffany and took them to Garden Lodge. And then, when Freddie went home and he was looking for the cats, Terry said: “No, they are not here, they are at your other home” – and Freddie moved within two days.

PS: And what was it like living with Freddie in Garden Lodge? What are your first memories of start of living there?

PF: At that point I was living above the kitchen. Joe and I had rooms that were above the kitchen, just up those stairs. And it just felt strange just to be living in that house. The thing is, I’ve been living with Freddie for years, because whenever we were in hotels it was always a two bedroom suit, so I knew how he was, what he would do, what he needed in the morning, how the moods could change, that was all standard, that was all normal. The difference was being in the luxury of Garden Lodge, knowing that it was a house, not the hotel, and the fact that he had made us promise, both Joe and myself, that we would treat this place as our home. It wasn’t just work and somewhere to stay because of work – it was our home.

Some houses have energy, they have a feeling, and while Freddie was in Garden Lodge it was a really warm, friendly house.

PS: And the atmosphere in the house changed almost at the moment Freddie passed away, right?

PF: Literally. For me, while he was still alive, even in those last minutes, it was still the same house, but literally within minutes, while we were waiting for the doctor, it just became bricks and mortar, it just became somewhere to sleep, somewhere to live.

PS: You mentioned living together with Freddie in hotels, but do you remember living with Freddie in some flats or houses before Garden Lodge?

PF: We were living in his apartment in New York. The way it was set up there were two bedrooms, sitting room, dining room, kitchen, a maid’s room and a sort of TV room.

And later we lived together for six months in Los Angeles. Recording “The Works”. They rented the big house for Freddie. A nice house, big-big house. It belonged to a doctor, who just constantly rented it out to stars, who needed somewhere to stay while they were filming. Elizabeth Taylor apparently stayed there, George Hamilton was there, lots of different film stars used it. It was a big house in nice big gardens, it had a swimming pool, had a tennis court, you know, it all the things you need.

PS: And it was actually two of you living there together?

PF: Yeah, Freddie and me. And Terry was there too, to drive.

PS: And speaking of Freddie’s New York Times, can you actually remember what was his the most favourite part of the city?

PF: Most evenings he would end up down on Christopher street, which is down near Greenwich Village. Because there were bars around there, clubs around there, restaurants around there, everything was there in that area, in the West Village.

PS: Our next topic is about Freddie Mercury and George Michael; we can see them together at “Barcelona” album launch party and Queen 20th anniversary party – do you remember the interaction between them?

PF: They actually met up at Live Aid, after it finished. We had to stay in the bar, because there were absolutely no way any cars were going to get out of the stadium area, because of the traffic and everything. And that was the very first time that they actually met. Freddie admired him, he thought George had a great talent both in writing and in singing, but there was no special friendship, because Freddie didn’t create big friendships with other musicians. He preferred, so to say, normal people. And also he enjoyed actors and actresses, their company, more than other musicians, because the way he felt, most musicians just wanted to talk about music and he had many more interests. So, yes, if Freddie and George were in the same place, then yes, they would meet up and they would chat about what was going on in their lives, but most of it was always about work. Their conversations would always be like “what was the tour like” and they would laugh, because they would make jokes about what they had been doing. Freddie could make a joke out of any situation. He didn’t tell anecdotes as such, but he could see something and he could make a joke out of it.

PS: As you mentioned Freddie having friends among actors and actresses, could you remember some of them?

PF: Anita Dobson, Debby Bishop, Carol Wood, Pam Ferris, Susannah York. One he would like to have met and she lived literally just across the road, but it never came, was Diana Rigg. And he was incredibly happy when I gave him an autograph from Honor Blackman. I met her and I said “Could I have an autograph, please”, she says “yes, of course, who’s it for?” and I said “it’s just for my friend, Freddie”. And he was overjoyed with it and he kept it in his bedside drawer.

PS: And who was his favourite actors?

PF: Franco Nero, James Mason, Laurence Olivier. And he got to meet him, so that was another of Freddie’s absolute joys. Dave Clark took Freddie to dinner at Laurence Olivier’s house. It was when they were working on “The Time” musical.

PS: And it was actually very last Freddie’s live performance, can you remember something special about it?

PF: Yes, April 1988. I just thought how amazing it sounded. We all heard “In my defence” before, but when he did “it’s in every one of us” as a duet with Cliff that was absolutely amazing. We had goose bumps. And then after the performance we went to Cliff Richard’s dressing room, sitting and talking there.

PS: And you said that Freddie didn’t have many friends amongst musicians, but could you remember something special about Freddie and Elton John’s friendship?

PF: They first met back in 74/75, when Queen were managed by John Reid and in those days both of them were constantly touring so they could rarely meet up. But every now and then Queen would have just done the show and Elton would be performing the next day, so he was already in the hotel and we would meet up and go round, sitting in Elton’s room talking. And then for about a couple of years after Freddie’s diagnosis they didn’t see each other, but then Freddie told Elton about his status and for the last year and a half Elton would regularly come to Garden Lodge. And in Freddie’s last two weeks Elton would ring us, say what time he would arrive, so that he wouldn’t be seen arriving, he wouldn’t come through the front door, and we would let him in through the Mews in his mini, so nobody knew he was there. He had to go to Paris to record, so he gave me all of the numbers: hotel number, the studio number, his mobile number, his assistance’s mobile number, all the numbers, just to let him know when it happen, because he knew it was going to happen. And at the very last time he came to Garden Lodge, he drove in one of his Bentleys and parked it right outside the front door and the press were running over to him asking “why are you here?” and Elton just turned around and said “I’ve come to see my friend”. And that was it, he just came in and they sat and talked. And when Elton came, it was really just Freddie and him in the room, just talking.

PS: And what was the story about Freddie getting his leg damaged in Munich?

PF: Freddie, when he had a few drinks, he would pick people up, just lift them off the floor, to show how strong he was. So Freddie had picked someone up and then someone next to him bumped into his knee and the ligaments tore, because instead of the way it was supposed to bend the knee bend the other way. Freddie then dropped the person he was carrying, he was screaming in pain and we had to go and get it set. When Queen filmed “It’s A Hard Life” in the end of the video, you can see him favouring the leg.

PS: And as you mention “It’s A Hard Life” video, Freddie’s friend Barbara Valentin stars in this video and she was a star in films of Rainer Werner Fassbinder – did Freddie ever discuss his films with her?

PF: Yeah, because she had videos of them. Freddie did meet Fassbinder once. They were in the “Deutsche Eiche”, which was Fassbinder’s favourite restaurant, he was always in it in Munich. And Barbara would take Freddie there every now and then. So Barbara introduced them to each other, they talked a bit, but they were there for lunch, it wasn’t a planned meeting or anything like this.

PS: And what film directors Freddie admired?

PF: Vincente Minnelli, George Cukor, the directors of the 40’s-50’s.

PS: What are your memories of Joe Fanelli?

PF: He was American. The first time I met him his relationship with Freddie was just finishing, this was in 1979. But he stayed in London and worked a lot in London. He was working in different restaurants. He was an amazing chef. And they kept in touch over the years and that’s why when Garden Lodge was finished and someone had to be there, that’s when Freddie thought to bring Joe back. And it worked, because Joe used to go to the gym all the time and he was taking care of himself, which he didn’t do so much when he was with Freddie. He was great. He was amazing on the computer. Computers were just starting, but Joe could write programs and things. Freddie’s favourite programme on television was “Countdown”, which is where they pick out seven letters and you have to make the longest word you possibly can out of those seven letters and then there’s also the numbers thing as well – and Joe created that on the computer for Freddie so that he didn’t wait for it just on the TV. He was fun, and he was good; it was good working with him and most of the time we just got on so well. Garden Lodge would not have been the same without him.

PS: And you mentioned Joe programming “Countdown” for Freddie so Freddie could actually play this game on computer?

PF: Well, no, he couldn’t, but he could sit there and Joe would do the computer. The computer was bought by Freddie for Garden Lodge and it was set upstairs on the musician’s gallery in the big sitting room.

PS: How would you describe the relationship between Freddie and other Queen members?

PF: They were all close to each other, but in a different ways.

Freddie was close with John. John was the new boy, he was the last one to join, he was the youngest, and Freddie just felt protective. He wanted to protect him a little bit for the dangers of rock’n’roll. But then John got married, had Veronica, so he had the security of home, and John was not around Freddie as much, but it didn’t stop the friendship because of what happened at the end. John just decided to finish because Freddie wasn’t there anymore.

With Roger it was a different friendship. And a very good friendship, because both of them had similar personality trait, they both enjoyed a good drink; they both enjoyed a good party.

And with Brian, of course, they were friends, but Brian was much more serious and Freddie was much more of a laughing person than Brian. Brian thought about things so much. But Freddie knew that he would never find anyone better than Brian to help him with the music.

PS: We know that Brian and Roger visited Freddie in his last days, but we never heard of John visiting Freddie.

PF: I don’t think John was prepared to see Freddie looking like he did in the last days, but John came and visited Freddie before those last two weeks. I know that he did come to the house, but I don’t think he could accept seeing Freddie the way he was in those last weeks.

PS: Freddie started to get a lot worse in those last two weeks?

PF: For the last two weeks Freddie hardly ate, he hardly drank. He was taking no drugs that were keeping him alive anymore, he was taking painkillers, and that was it.

PS: What was the reason of Freddie’s last visit to Montreux?

PF: He just wanted to get away from London. He wanted to have a little bit of peace and quiet away from all the press. He had that apartment in Montreux, so he went there.

For the last two-three years of his life he would be there every other month for a couple of weeks. There was no feeling of “this is the last time I’m going to Montreux”, that wasn’t part of his mentality, he only decided that this was the last visit when I called him, because I wasn’t with him, Jim, Joe and Terry were with him at that time, I was in Garden Lodge and I rang him and I said: “Look, just so that you are aware when you come home, that there are press outside the house 24 hours a day. In the nighttime it’s down to about four or five and in the daytime it’s up to about twenty”.

And that’s when he decided that when he went into Garden Lodge, coming back from Switzerland, it would be the last time, because he knew that he would never be able to get out again.

PS: And how long was he there for the last time?

PF: For about two weeks.

PS: And how do you remember him when he came back?

PF: He was sort of happy, but he was a bit withdrawn, because he had made the decision that when he came into Garden Lodge, it would be the last time, that he would never leave it again. He already had decided that, so, of course, he was a little bit more thoughtful, more inward thinking rather than being laughing and all that. But still, even in those two last two weeks there were still times when he would laugh, because he never wanted sad people around him.

PS: What are your last memories of Freddie?

PF: Since he got back from Switzerland on the 10th, he basically stopped eating and drinking. He would have a little bit, but that’s it. So, of course, he was tired, he had no energy. Most of the time he had short sleeps, short sleep –wake up, short sleep – wake up.

In those last two weeks, except for his needs, the only other time Freddie left his room, was when Terry carried him downstairs, on the Wednesday, 20th of November, because he just wanted to look around the main room, he just wanted to have a last look at paintings, at the crystal. He just wanted to spend some more time in that huge room where he felt most comfortable.

The last week of Freddie’s life he was actually never alone, because between Joe, Jim and myself, we would spend twelve hours with him and there was always one of us with him. We did the shifts from eight in the evening till eight in the morning. The last time that I was with him was on the Friday night. And on that Friday night I got there just before eight o’clock. And, you have to remember, that at eight o’clock the statement was released to the world that Freddie had AIDS. The thing is, those hours I was with him, he was the most relaxed I had seen him in years, because there was no secret anymore, the whole world knew. And he would just talk about anything, he would be in bed, I would be sitting on the bed next to him and I would be just holding his hand. The television was on, just for some noise, he would talk and he would go to sleep and talk and go to sleep. And we talked about silly little things, nothing really serious, and nothing like “we knew everything was coming to an end”, there was none of that. He could still talk fine, his mind was together, he just was very-very tired.

But, I think, because the statement had been done, I think Freddie felt that it was time for him to go. Because it was coming up for eight o’clock and I think it was Joe coming in at that point, Joe was coming at eight, and I said to Freddie something like “Look, okay, I’m going now, Joe is going to be here, but, of course, I’ll see you, I’ll see you soon”, he said something like “uhum, yeah, yeah”.

And then he just took my hand, looked me straight in the eye and just said “Thank you”.

And I will never know, whether he already decided that we would never meet again and was thanking me for the last twelve years, or if he was just thanking me for the last twelve hours.

But I have a feeling that he already knew that we would not see each other again.

PS: Do you remember when you for the very first time understood that you are not just working with Freddie, but you are becoming friends?

PF: That really started from the very-very beginning, because we didn’t have to always talk to each other to know what he wanted. I understood him. Because of our similar upbringing in boarding school in India I knew why he reacted in some ways, why he did things, I knew it, it was just instinctive and it made everything very-very easy for him and for me. Maybe it became more intense when Freddie started the time out of Britain, because we were going to be together 24 hours a day, so you have to be friends. And for me, it was the easiest thing on earth to be friends with Freddie. I never thought about Freddie, The Superstar. I was thinking about Freddie, my friend.

SPECIAL THANKS TO VALUREX FOR CONTRIBUTION AND ASSISTENCE

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs. 

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate. 

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon​. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09​. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them. 

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart. 

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813​ (sheith)

Summary:  After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW  👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever. 

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos. 

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?  

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold 

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora​ (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend 

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd​ (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd​. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that. 

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions: 

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary:  When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that. 

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09​ into that ship. 

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way. 

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter. 

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary:  Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number. 

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came. 

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it. 

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach 

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that. 

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing. 

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good. 

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another. 

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me. 

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window 

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive 

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette​ (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1​ (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty​ (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

[guardianofrivendell]

Lost in Translation

Éomer x reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: mentions of certain body parts and a bad ending 

A/N: Wow! Not a Legolas fic? You’re as surprised as I am :) This is just a silly fic I wrote a while ago for another fandom, and I kept thinking how this would be perfect for Éomer. Slightly AU. 

Words in bold are in Elvish.

“Come on, Y/N, hurry up. There’s not much time left!”

You shuffled right behind your friend, muttering profanities and cursing your inability to say no to her. She could’ve carried a few things herself instead of making you drag it all alone. You weren’t her slave. Although you probably were at this point. 

When you entered the kitchen of the castle, you put down all the baskets your friend had made you carry. Before you could say anything, they were already gone, doing who knows what. 

How did you let them trick you into coming along, you thought, shaking your head in annoyance.

Your friend worked in the kitchens of the castle of Rohan, and was in charge of organizing the grand feasts and balls King Théoden held. This morning she had visited you, in the middle of a nervous breakdown because her kitchen staff was sick. You knew there was supposed to be a big ball tonight and now she was left to handle it alone.

You genuinely felt bad for her and really wanted to help, so you made the mistake to ask her what you could do. And that’s how you ended up as her kitchen maid for the evening. No, scratch that. Kitchen slave. 

*

Two hours later everything was ready for the guests to arrive. The food in the kitchen was ready, the tables in the ballroom were set up and the ale and wine were stocked. 

You were wearing a plain dark green dress and your black flats. You had tried to keep your braided hair up with the few hair pins you had. It wasn’t your best shot at a decent hairdo, but it would have to do. It’s not like you really knew the people that were coming tonight. This was a feast for the upper class, and you were definitely not a part of that. 

The guests started to arrive and you anxiously waited in the kitchen with your friend, waiting for her signal to start and walk around with the food.

This was the part you dreaded the most. You weren’t the social type, and to be thrown out there in public, asking strangers if they wanted something to eat was a step too far. 

But you had promised your friend to help her out and you weren’t the one to break a promise. Besides, you would get back at her eventually. She owed you big time after this. 

*

You felt your feet aching when you put down the empty serving plate on the giant table in the center of the kitchen. All the appetizers were served and you were desperate for a break. 

You put your hands on the table and leaned forward, trying to remove the pressure of your feet. If you would allow yourself to sit down, you probably wouldn’t be able to get back up again. It’s not like you were being overdramatic - okay, maybe a little bit - but you weren’t used to standing on your feet for this long. Why was this a good idea again? 

Your friend looked at you sympathetically, but noticed something different. 

“Okay, who caught your eye?” 

You looked at her questioningly, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N, come on! You’re blushing!”

That comment made you blush even more. You looked the other way to try and hide it from your friend, but you should have known she would notice. 

“So you did meet someone? Tell me!”

“No!” you hissed at her. “If I tell you, you would only try and make me go talk to him.”

Before your friend could say anything, you were interrupted by a young nobleman coming into the kitchen. This was highly unusual. 

“Excuse me my lady, would you mind hurrying up with the rest of the food? The guests are waiting,” he asked with a bored expression. 

Your friend smiled at him, gently guiding him out of the kitchen. “Of course my lord. I am sorry for the inconvenience. My servant will open the buffets right away.” 

Servant? Oh, now I’m suddenly the servant. But you had to give it to her, she knew how to work these people. If it were you who had to handle that person, you’d probably rolled your eyes at him and told him you only had two hands to work with, not four. 

“Okay, Y/N. You heard me, go to the tables in the great hall and help the guests serve their food. Whatever you do, don’t leave the food alone. Especially the desserts because I made just about enough for everyone. I’ll help out as soon as I can.”

“Yes, my lady,” you said, making a small curtsy as a joke. 

*

This was something you almost enjoyed. Almost. 

People came to you and you only had to see they didn’t overfill their plate, so there was enough for everyone. If you saw someone having trouble cutting off a slice of meat, you gave them a hand.  You preferred this work over the walking around with appetizers job, because this time you didn’t have to look people in the eye. 

Except with one person of course… 

You had noticed him when you were walking around with your plate. Clumsy as you were, you tripped over your own feet and if it weren’t for him, you had thrown all the stew on the ground. He had grabbed you by your upper arms and steadied you, without spilling one drop of the stew. 

“Wow, quick reflexes,” you gasped, and then your breath hitched because you finally had a good look at your saviour. 

He was tall, but not towering over you. Dark eyes in a gruff, but friendly face. Your eyes trailed from his broad chest, down his forearms and then his hands, which were still holding on to your arms. 

“Are you okay, my lady?” he asked. 

You blinked a couple of times and smiled. “Yeah… Yeah, I am alright. I am sorry, I’m so clumsy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. 

You held up the plate to him. “Stew?”

After he took one of the bowls, you rushed around handing out the other bowls, your eyes often wandering towards him. Even though he was talking to some of the other guests, he always returned your gaze. When you finally handed out the last one, he winked at you and that made you return to the kitchen with flushed cheeks. 

When he joined the line at the buffet, you started to get nervous. What if your clumsiness made you do something embarrassing again? Oh my god, what if you chucked some gravy on his expensive clothes?

Your hands started sweating and you wiped them off on your dress. He passed you, filling up his plate without asking for assistance, and you were almost disappointed he didn’t take one look at you when he suddenly said, “My name is Éomer.”

You stood there perplexed, not realising at first it was you he was talking to. But when his dark eyes met yours, you answered automatically. 

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiled and walked away with his plate only half full. You followed him with your eyes and forgot you were holding a serving spoon, dropping it to the ground with a loud clatter only a few seconds after. 

Your friend had chosen that moment to come and assist you. She had one eyebrow perked up and you half expected her to tell you off for whatever she thought you were doing wrong, but to your surprise that didn’t happen. 

“Was that him?”

You sighed, shaking your head in response. You should’ve known this was coming. 

“Come on, work with me here,” she said, starting to speak in Elvish. The both of you learned the Elven language when you were young and often switched to it if you wanted to have a secret conversation. Since there weren’t any Elves present, it was safe for them to use it.  You rolled your eyes, there wasn’t anyone there at the buffet so you got away with the gesture. 

“Fine. Okay? Yes, he is the one I was talking about,” you admitted. 

“Well? Go talk to him!”

See? You knew this would happen. 

“I can’t leave the food. The desserts need protection.”

“But there is another dessert waiting for you.” She nodded her head towards Éomer. 

You bit your lip. 

“He is cute though.”

Your friend nodded, a smirk appearing on her face. “Has a nice butt too.”

Your eyes widened at her comment, thanking Eru Illúvatar nobody could understand what she was saying to you. At least, you hoped no one could. 

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to where he was standing, glancing at a particular area. When you looked up again, you saw him staring back at you. You felt your cheeks burning, realising you were caught staring at his butt. You saw your friend barely holding her laughter. 

After a couple of minutes Éomer was lost in the crowd. By that time a lot of guests wanted dessert so you were thankful your friend was there to help you. 

When Éomer joined the line at the end of the buffet, you drew the attention of your friend again with a little wave. 

“He does have a nice butt.”

“It’s probably not the right time for me to say to you that I understand Elvish?” a voice sounded, making your blood run cold.

“Y-you do?” your friend stuttered. 

Éomer grabbed a slice of cake. 

“I had to learn it because we do a lot of business with the Elves of Lórien. It comes in handy once in a while,” he grinned. 

You were still speechless. Your friend noticed and thought she could intervene and ‘help’. 

“Well, then you know Y/N over there thinks you’re really cute.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of mischief. It was adorable. “Does she now?”

He took a bite of his slice of cake, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“She also thinks you have a nice butt,” she added. Éomer almost choked on the piece of cake in his mouth. That’s it, you were going to plan her funeral later tonight. 

“I’m so sorry,” you tried to apologize. 

“Don’t be, I’m flattered,” he laughed. “What do you say, when you’re done here, you want to go and take a walk outside with me and my butt?”

“I’d love to!”

*

When the feast was over and you were almost done cleaning everything up, your friend called you over to the kitchen. 

“I talked to one of the guards just now.”

“And?” you asked, not understanding where she would take this. 

“They always speak Westron when communicating with Lórien,” they whispered. “Éomer doesn’t understand Elvish at all!”

You looked towards the mostly empty hall, where Éomer stood waiting for you. He had an extra cloak hanging over his arm, for you to use on your walk, and was looking towards you. 

“You don’t understand a single thing of what I’m saying to you, do you?” you said to him. He just smiled in return, a slight panic in his eyes. 

“Hey, at least you got a date out of it!” your friend laughed. 

[redrobin-detective]

I still know nothing about Kaito Kid and Conan except what I see through you. BUT. The recent post about Conan not discovering Kaito Kid because he can—play? With Kid? Not in a manipulative way, but in a “I can genuinely just enjoy this, and not keep up a facade or worry about innocents dying.” It’s giving me Emotions. Does Kid reciprocate in a “this kid is brilliant, but not malicious“? Can he genuinely play a bit with Conan, or is his mission too important?

Yup! It’s one of the reason the dynamic between the two is so much fun (and is covered extensively in fanfiction). Both Shinichi and Kaito are very competitive, ridiculously high intelligent people who feel bored by every day life. It’s why Shinichi chases after murderers and Kaito does his death defying stunts. Though they’re on opposite sides of the law, they have a mutual respect for the other Kaito respects Conan’s intellect, boldness and tenacity while Conan in return respects Kid’s physical and mental abilities and his strict adherence to non-violence. Heists are a challenge for Kaito to outwit Conan while Conan gets a mental workout without worrying about bodies.

This ask made me go back in the manga and categorize some of their interactions so I’ll put that under the read more if anyone is interested!

This is from the first meeting, Conan initially dismissed a common thief but the complexity of Kid’s note intrigued him enough that he staked out a building to confront him. Look at how excited his stupid little face is.

 (I just love this shot, look at that art) A legendary rivalry begins here! Kid is confident, not worried and Conan clearly has no idea what to make of this thief is bold white.

Kid’s still playful, confident but clearly this child is more than he appears. Kid gets away and, Conan, who hadn’t expected much out of him, now puts his brain into high gear which results in this delightful exchange a few days later when Kid stole the Black Star Pearl.

Here’s Conan finally acknowledging Kid’s skills as a thief and disguise artist (That’s Kid impersonating Ran, Conan’s unofficial big sister and Shinichi’s love interest. There’s a lovely line in the anime stating that Kid chose that disguise as his own challenge to Conan). Note that in their first meeting Conan is very determined to capture and jail the thief for his crimes. Kid is also forced to acknowledge Conan as a threat. Its stated at the end of the chapter that he had to swim to shore since Conan cut off his escape. Both thief and detective leave the encounter interested in their own way.

This is their second meeting. Kid’s clearly got his eye on Conan, waiting to see what he’ll do meanwhile Conan is actively looking for ways to unravel the trick and take in the thief. I made another post a while back about how much bolder Kaito, the second Kid is compared to his father, the first because Conan egged him on in a way.

but when he does figure out the trick! Look at that compliment of Kid’s talent for magic and misdirection. He’s still focused on capture but there’s a genuine respect building.

Kid makes his getaway but Conan tags along. They’ve progressed to the witty bantering stage of their rivalry. Conan is waiting for a good moment to tranquilize Kid but they’re able to playfully debate philosophy. Much different than even their last meeting. Also in some translations, Kid notes that he’d hoped Conan would come to this heist indicating that he too enjoys the thrill of the close chase. He’s so good that few people provide a good challenge, until Conan came along.

Next heist, Haibara calls Conan out for his open enthusiasm but you can clearly see how intrigued Conan is by Kid’s magic. Boy can’t wait to ruin his rival’s day and expose his trick on live TV.

Look at that smug smile

Kid used a stungun on Conan at this heist so Conan kicks a soccer ball at him which also tags him so the police can identify him. They’re both clearly having fun. It’s not just about the mission now, it’s a physical and mental chess match between two masters. Conan also acts less and less like a child around Kid, showing off his more serious, adult personality either out of trust or just losing himself to the game.

At the Ryoma Heist we start to see a slight shift in dynamic. Conan still unraveled the trick, chased after Kid but he’s able to talk casually and even lets the thief go without a fuss. He claims its because Kid helped uncover counterfeiters but that’s semantics. They’re slowly edging away from rivals and closer to friends. They also both give up a bit of personal information about their mothers despite how closely the two of them play their secrets close to their chest. Shinichi plays pretty fast and loose with his secret here but he knows Kid isn’t going to talk.

Kid even actively helps Conan keep Haibara safe from the Black Organization (the series big bads) risking his own life and identity. Look at them bicker, just like old friends. We see Conan again acknowledge Kid’s skills and Kid bitching at Conan for dragging him into his bullshit. This is the first time outside the Iron Tanuki affair where we see them on the same side and, you know, they make a pretty good team. 

He lets Kid go at the Blush Mermaid Heist a few days later as thanks for the above bullshit though he steps aside when Sera (who’s face Kid stole for the disguise) high kicks him in the face which was some well deserved poetic justice. Conan doesn’t even pretend to apprehend Kid at this point.

They know each other by this point, Conan has something of a sixth sense when Kid is watching him. 

Kid as well is able to read his favorite critic’s face and know that his brilliant mind is making deductions and getting closer to the truth. And he’s smirking about it, he calls Conan a “critic” in their first appearance but he clearly likes watching the boy work either out of respect for the skill or just because someone can finally keep up with him.

Look at how playful and casual this interaction is, a far cry from their first meeting. Conan is comfortable enough to all but reveal his identity of teen detective, Kudo Shinichi (his most closely guarded secret) and Kid is acknowledging that he too is on the hunt for a specific gem which he usually doesn’t advertise. Conan lets Kid go without issue and Kid is pretty upfront about what he’s doing. Their posture is relaxed and they have smiles on their faces, they could easily be old friends.

It’s not a normal relationship by any means but these aren’t normal boys. It makes me wonder how they would even interact outside of a heist since they’re both so open with each other and yet there’s so much in between them. I always say Detective Conan and Magic Kaito are two sides of the same coin. If only Gosho would stop teasing us with these interactions and have the two of them team up properly.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

ashlyn and big red for the character thing!

Ahhh anon thank you so much for giving me another opportunity to talk about these two! They own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale!

All that being said, answering these questions about them seems very difficult to me right now, but I'll try because I owe it to their awesomeness.

Ashlyn:

favourite thing about her: she is literally the brightest star but she's always so supportive of literally everyone else; also, she dabbles into so many things, which, as a translator, I appreciate a lot (since, you know, translators are supposed to have basic knowledge of anything and everything) - she's basically my kind of person, I'd 100% try my hardest to be her friend if I went to East High with the gang

least favourite thing about her: umm, I like everything about her? Like she's literally a gorgeous human being who can do no wrong... ok, maybe I didn't very much appreciate her disclosing information that was shared with her (and the rest of the girls) in confidence (I mean in 2x10 when she told Big Red what Seb had confided in the girls about his issues with Carlos), but it's not like she announced it to the world. She shared it with her boyfriend, which is at worst a case of good communication gone a tad too far, and at best just good communication.

favourite line: this one's really hard because I can't pick just one. Guess I'll have to go with 'So meek, so mild, sword' because I think about that one a lot for some reason, or alternatively 'You walk into a room' because of the matter-of-fact way she said it - she was not trying to pay a compliment, just being genuine and saying what she believes to be the truth (and she was not wrong)

brOTP: Gina, who else? They're sisters. Enough said.

OTP: is this even a question? Big Red, big time. Redlyn is in the top three of my OTPs of all time.

nOTP: anyone who is not Big Red... they're soulmates, your honour.

random headcanon: she and EJ are the only people capable of falling asleep in the presence of Big Red's sleep apnea machine... it's an overachiever thing, I guess.

unpopular opinion: I'm not really sure I have unpopular opinions about Ash. Maybe it's the people I surround myself with here on Tumblr, but everyone seems to love and appreciate her as much as I do - as we should, by the way. She deserves all the love.

song I associate with her: Never Underestimate a Girl by Vanessa Hudgens and Cover Girl by BTR (told you I couldn't help slipping back into my BTR phase now that they're coming back)

favourite picture of her:

I guess this one. I just love how the cape looks on her, plus can we talk about the emotion on her face? She's living the part, not just playing it. We stan a superb actress doing her absolute best with a co-lead who is quite frankly doing the opposite of leading.

Big Red:

favourite thing about him: umm, everything? But if I had to pick a few things only, I'd say his side eyes (and his facial expressions in general, really), the fact that he's always, always there for Ricky (I hope that boy returns the favour someday soon), his hidden talents, and last but not least, the way he gets around power tools - it just gets to me in a way I can't quite comprehend.

least favourite thing about him: is this a bloody trick question? Nothing. Although I've got to say I think the fact that he kept his tapping talent secret from everyone was just... denying the world a blessing. I am so happy that secret is out.

favourite line: this one's a tough call, too. Do I go with the iconic 'Did I just join a cult?', the underrated 'Maybe I can't read lips', the unforgettable 'underrated style legend'... Idk, he is the king of one-liners.

brOTP: I really want to say Ricky because, well, when it comes to their friendship, Big Red is doing his part and beyond. However, Ricky just isn't always being the best friend Big Red deserves. So I'm thinking, why not EJ? They could bond over their love and admiration for Ashlyn, among other things, plus they just have to get along, don't they? They'll be in-laws someday, after all. I said what I said.

OTP: Ashlyn and literally no one else. They're soulmates — Ashlyn said it, not me. Although I have been saying it for a while, too.

nOTP: anyone who is not Ashlyn. See above. I've got nothing to say on the topic that I haven't said already.

random headcanon: he probably has ADHD? Idk, might be just me projecting. But he's definitely not neurotypical. Also, he's just as multi-talented as Ashlyn — he's just keeping it hidden because he doesn't like drawing attention to himself.

unpopular opinion: I'm calling this unpopular just because I'm not aware of anyone else having said it, but — he would benefit greatly from an emotional support power drill. The boldness power tools seem to give him... he could take over the world if he were like that all the time.

song I associate with him: Hey You by Miranda Cosgrove (gosh, not me dusting off the old records for this ask!)

favourite picture of him:

I couldn't really pick just one, but I really like this outfit on him and the s1 finale post-credits scene still blows me away each time I rewatch it, or even simply think about it.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

5. Draw me like one of your French girls

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.3k

At this point, I’m seriously considering commissioning my own fanart.

It all started the next morning at our first press release. Somebody had the bright idea to show me some fanart that’s been rolling in the past few weeks of a certain k-pop rapper and I. Not gonna lie...we look good together.

Too good.

Then again, everything about Min Yoongi has seemed pretty good since I woke up to a couple more texts from him this morning. I passed out after his late-night/early morning apology, but he sent another text not long after.

4:32 MYG: So does this mean I’m forgiven? Bong-cha made it sound like you enjoy holding grudges.

9:02 MYG: Morning. I hope everything goes well with you today...is it alright if I keep texting you?

9:02 MYG: Just so I can keep tabs on everything. I don’t want this to get too out of hand for you.

Obviously the poor man is just as worried about all of this as I am. I couldn’t help but give a sleepy chuckle when I woke up to his messages.

So far, I’ve done a wonderful job of ignoring how nice it felt to wake up to a good morning text.

I’ve also done a great job at keeping calm and breezing past any weird questions from the current press conference I’m in. That is, until a Korean reporter (I have a hunch they’re from Dispatch) pipes up not only with a question, but with visual aids!

“Cara, do you mind if I ask you a question? Would you like a translator?”

Reminding myself to be gracious and kind, I shake my head. “Go ahead. I should be alright without a translator, thank you.”

The reporter nods, shuffling forward until they pull a paper out of their file in hand. She gives me a sickly smile, passing the paper up to our security guard who does me the honor of bringing it right to my outstretched palm.

“This is one of the newest renderings, I was just wondering how you have been feeling about this entire situation?”

I already guessed what this was going to be about, but the picture in my hand confirms it.

It’s fanart.

To be honest, it’s very well done. It’s a watercolor, the artist placed us walking along a rainy sidewalk. Hand in hand, Yoongi’s gummy smile on full display while I look down at my toes.

Sebastian whistles beside me, clearly as in awe of the artwork as I am. Before me the reporter still wears her smile, waiting for a response. I pass the paper down the line, allowing Rhea to get a chance to admire the fanart.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence I received upon reading Yoongi’s text this morning that has me grinning back at the reporter with a saccharine smile.

“Did you draw this? It’s very well done.”

Not everyone can understand Korean in this press conference, but the few that do start chuckling. The reporter blanches for a moment, smile faltering.

“N-no, but if you could answer the question-”

I’m sure I look very disappointed as I look down at her. She definitely works for dispatch; she practically reeks of it. Maybe that’s what gives me the boldness I need as I realize that I’m not even her direct target; Yoongi is.

Yoongi’s nice. I don’t think she is.

“Oh, everything is going fine. Honestly, I should get in touch with this artist. They’re very talented.”

The reporter’s eyebrows flick up, sensing a new method of attack. “Were you thinking of commissioning your own?”

“Honestly, I might consider it. Maybe it’ll make my aunts quit hounding me every Thanksgiving about my love life.”

With that, the paper is handed back to the security guard, but the reporter motions for him to keep it. Confused, he hands it back to me. I turn it over so I don’t get caught staring at it during the conference. That’s the last thing Yoongi or I need right now.

As the reporter takes her seat again, I can’t help but feel a little triumphant. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

🌙

12:22 ME: I never said you were forgiven, did I?

As soon as we get out of the press conference we are ushered into a van which takes us to another interview. I figure that now is as good a time as any to text Yoongi back, seeing that this morning I woke up late and was too flustered to come up with a response.

“Who are you texting?” Sebastian asks. “Is it your friend that always calls you?”

I consider lying to him for a moment, but realize that it might actually be nice for him to know. He can keep me from being unrealistic when I start to fangirl.

He may also help me to keep that promise I silently made a while ago: to not go so easy on Yoongi. Right now, it’s proving harder than expected to dislike him.

“Nosy.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, that only happens when you get texts from me.”

“Ha! Right. It’s a secret...kind of. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

Taking an unnecessarily big breath, I spill my secret that I’ve kept for approximately 12 hours.

“It’s Yoongi.” When there’s no immediate reaction from him, I backpedal. “Also known as Suga?”

Before Sebastian can respond the ping of my phone pulls my attention away.

12:26 MYG: Oh good, you responded. I was getting worried you were actually mad. So is it alright if I keep texting you? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.

“You’re smiling again.”

I look up to see an annoyed Sebastian Stan. He’s not very good at sharing attention, and it would appear that Yoongi is no exception.

“How strange, I didn’t realize.”

12:27 ME: That’s fine.

12:27 ME: But I am mad!!

12:28 MYG: Hahaha sure

“Cara, we’re here.” Sebastian says as he clambers out of the car. I follow after him, pocketing my phone.

There’s a few cameras outside waiting for us, but we’re able to make it inside the building without too much fuss. Once we make it into the room where we’re supposed to have one of our interviews, Sebastian pulls a paper out of his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

He smirks at me, unfolding the paper. It’s the fanart from earlier. I didn’t even realize that he’d pocketed it.

“Tell Suga I say hi, at least.” He poses with the papers just below his chin, giving the best puppy dog eyes he can muster up. It’s rather convincing, if I’m being honest.

“You weirdo,” I mumble as I snap a photo. I’m quick to send it off to Yoongi, captioning it.

12:37 ME: Sebastian says hello.

Our interviewer is just about to come into the room when I receive a response. Not having the self-restraint to put my phone away, I quickly take a look. Sebastian peers over my shoulder, curious as well.

12:40 MYG: Winter Soldier!!!

12:41 MYG: Hi. Did he draw that?

I cackle, quickly translating the message. Sebastian looks appalled. “I have better things to do than draw fanart!”

“Yeah, like write fanfiction, right?”

He grins at me. “Obviously.”

12:42 ME: No, but he says he’s writing fanfiction.

12:42 ME: We’re about to start an interview rn but I’ll tell him to send you his rough draft later. 😏

Interviews pass, and it isn’t until I’m finishing up dinner that my phone pings with another message from Yoongi. I nearly impale Sebastian with my fork as I lunge for my charging phone; he’d come into my hotel room to eat dinner with me.

“Watch it!” Sebastian grunts, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. We were promised lunch by Rhea earlier but it ended up just being a small snack as she was whisked away by a long-lost friend. The two of us managed to control our hunger for as long as possible, but Sebastian wasted no time calling up some food for us before we even got back to the hotel.

We barely beat the delivery boy here. He wasn’t all that surprised that we were American. Sebastian had tried out some very choppy Cantonese. What did end up surprising him was that he was delivering a meal to the Winter Soldier. I was able to sneak into my room undetected while the boy’s eyes were bugging out as Sebastian signed his hat.

“Sorry,” I mumble around my food.

9:12 MYG: I’m still waiting for the rough draft.

I translate the message to Sebastian, who cackles and promises to get started on it as soon as possible.

9:14 ME: Sorry, Sebastian said he’s still trying to write it. I’ll let you know when it’s ready!

9:15 MYG: That’s alright. I’ll be patient.

9:15 MYG: I saw a clip from your press conference today.

My stomach lurches as I realize what clip it was that he probably saw. Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now? I mean, I might be. But he doesn’t need to know that.

9:18 ME: I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?

Sebastian notices my change in expression and shoots me a worried look. “Everything alright?” I shrug.

“Yeah...I just hope I didn’t get him in trouble with what I said at the press conference today. I think that reporter was trying to go against him somehow.”

“He’s a big boy. Did he say anything about it?”

I look back down at the messages even though I already know what he said. My stomach lurches again as I see the three little dots at the bottom of the screen.

“No, not really. He just said he saw a clip or something. He’s typing right now, though.”

9:20 MYG: I thought I was the worrier. No, you didn’t. How was the rest of your day?

“What’d he say?” Sebastian grabs our cartons of food, tossing them into the wastebasket.

“He’s just…”

“Are you blushing?!” My friend stares at me from across the room, eyes wide. “No way! You like him!”

“No! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me! You’re so into him!” Sebastians hurries back over grinning wide. “Wow, he must be a good texter.”

That really is helping my blush. “Nooo, he’s not. He’s just nice. That’s it. It’s just fun having someone nice to talk to, you know? He feels really bad about everything and - Sebastian quit it - and it’s just sweet of him to care. That’s it.”

Sebastian stops looking at me with his puppy dog eyes and leans back in his chair, a contemplative look overtaking his features. “I thought I was nice to talk to.”

I pause for a second, breath getting caught in my throat. “Y-you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shakes his head, giving me an award-winning smile. “No, I know. Aren’t you going to respond?”

“Oh! Yeah!” I focus on my phone again. There’s an uneasy feeling rising in me at Sebastian’s comment, but I brush it off for now. He’s always been bad at sharing his friends. He’s the same with Anthony Mackey, I’ve seen it up close.

9:25 ME: True, I’ll let you worry. My day was good, just finished up dinner. How was yours?

“There, I-” I look up proudly only to find Sebastian’s chair empty and the door clicking shut. “...I did it.”

MYG: It was great. Got lots of work done.

MYG: Have you decided if you’re going to come to the festival or not? Also, Bong-cha says hi.

ME: Wow, she can’t even tell me herself. No respect. No, I honestly didn’t even think about it today...but I’m pretty sure we’re all going either way.

MYG: Haha she’s not happy with your comment.

MYG: She’s reading over my shoulder, I promise I’m not reading our conversation out loud. Is your director making you go?

I just miss the chance to respond as my phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Bong-cha, quit reading my conversations you little weirdo.”

“Hey, how’s it going with you? I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Are you still in the room with everyone?”

“No, just left. You should see Yoongi right now, though.”

“Why?”

“He looks like a kid in a candy store every time he gets a text from you. It’s adorable.”

“Yah!”

My friend’s cackle soars through the phone, and I swat at the air as though I could somehow get her to stop.

“Please tell me you guys are coming to the festival.” Bong-cha’s sudden change in tone has me pausing, chewing on my lip.

“We are. Why?”

“Come stay with me!” Bong-cha shouts. I jump up, a grin already working its way onto my face. “It’ll be just like old times. And, I was looking at the schedule you sent me...there’s a couple of nights where you’re done relatively early. We could go do something fun!”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. My phone is buzzing with incoming texts, but I ignore them for now. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. I’m not sure if I can come stay with you-”

“C’mon,” Bong-cha whines. “I never get to see you anymore. We’ll make it work! Oh, I’ve gotta go, Tae brought Yeontan. But let me know!”

With that, Bong-cha cuts the line and leaves me on the other side caught between excitement at seeing my friend and dread at having to come face to face with Yoongi. Texting is one thing; but actually spending time with him?

“Just be his friend,” I mumble to myself. Settling down, I attack my food once more. The space where Sebastian sat before makes me furrow my brows.

What’s going on with him? I mean sure, we’re really good friends. But we still see each other constantly, why would he be so possessive?

It’s probably all just in my head. My phone light up with the texts I received a couple of minutes ago while I was still on the phone, and this time I physically cannot restrain the smile that comes through as I realize Yoongi is still texting me.

MYG: Really no pressure about the festival. I know Bong-cha really wants to see you, but please don’t feel like you have to come and hang out with us.

MYG: We’re not even that cool, anyways.

MYG: Are you just hanging out with Sebastian tonight??

I stare down at my phone for a moment, the smile being wiped from my face. Plopping down heavily on my bed, I close my eyes and power off my phone.

Yoongi is nice. So nice, apparently, that I can’t even tell now if he’s trying to get me to stay away. The fact is simple: he’s a nice man who has a reputation to uphold and is trying to keep everyone happy. That includes me.

He’s nice for texting me and trying to make sure I’m doing alright. Any decent human being would do that. But there’s also the fact that I’m new to this game in the spotlight and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep my feelings out of this.

I take a moment to breathe, forcing myself to push away the impending panic that sets in. This is no way to live, and I know that I’m only setting myself up for heartbreak when someday I don’t wake up to a good morning text from Yoongi.

It’s only been one day of communicating and I can already feel myself getting too attached.

Powering on my phone again, I flinch at the new texts.

9:17 MYG: Bong-cha just told me her evil plan. 😩 Did she tell you about it on the phone?

9:31 MYG: Sorry if you’re busy! Just text me back when you can. Let me know about your plans for the festival, too.

Even though I’m itching to text him back and waste away the rest of the night talking to him, there’s another more pressing matter I have to face. Quickly getting up and leaving my phone there in order to fight the temptation, I grab my room key and head a few rooms down. A quiet knock and a few seconds later and Sebastian is opening up his door.

He looks down at me warily, and I feel almost like we had a fight because of the way he’s looking at me. Emitting a loud sigh, he shakes it off and grins down at me in a way that makes me question if I even saw the previous expression at all.

“Hey,” I mumble out weakly. Moving past him into his room, he follows silently behind me.

“Hey…?”

Without another word I land face first onto his bed, the action pulling a laugh from him. Good. His laugh reminds me that this is real. This friendship is real, and Sebastian for all his annoying teasing, is a true friend.

Bong-cha is miles away and busy. She’s also biased. So Sebastian is the next best thing.

“I’m freaking out,” the pillow muffles my words but I know he hears me loud and clear. The mattress dips on one side as Sebastian settles onto it, and a moment later a hesitant hand begins kneading the flesh at my shoulders. I let out a satisfied sigh.

“What’s going on?” His tone is gentle, and the sound of it nearly tugs some tears out of my eyes.

“I’m pathetic, Sebastian.” I clutch his pillow and bury my face farther into it. “I’m so pathetic! I’ve literally never met the man before in my life, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours sending a few texts back and forth and I already feel like I’d jump off a cliff for him!”

Sebstian’s hands pause in their kneading for a fraction of a second before continuing on. “I told you you liked him.”

I turn to look at him, and again I catch that wary gaze before he drops it. “Really? ‘I told you so’? Rude. I need help, Sebastian. It’s never going to happen, he’s just being nice, and I just need to be cordial and get through this. Right?”

He nods, contemplating a bit. “Sure. He seems like a great guy. But at the end of the day, the two of you are just caught up in a weird media frenzy and that’s it. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess.” I huff, flipping onto my back as I stare up at the ceiling. “Why do I like him though? Am I just desperate?”

Sebastian stands up and laughs. “No way. If you were desperate you would be falling for me, not some inconvenient, crazy famous kpop star.”

Somehow his words make me laugh, the feeling easing the panic a bit. “You’re right, I guess.”

🌙

I end up passing out in Sebastian’s room only to wake up at 3 am and find myself a little too close for comfort to my co-star. Gently untangling myself from his mess of arms and legs, I sneak out of his room and back to my own.

Half-asleep and looking the part, I groan at my reflection in the mirror as I try to brush my teeth. Pointing at my reflection with my toothbrush, I give myself a pep talk.

“You are not pathetic,” pause to spit, “you’re not desperate,” rinse out the brush, “you’re just friendly. You’re practicing making new friends, and Yoongi as well as all of BTS are a part of that. That’s it.”

So when I finally settle down into my cold and very empty bed, I don’t feel very guilty sending Yoongi a late-night text. He never texted me again after the last one I saw, and I easily brush off the feeling of disappointment and replace it with relief.

3:13 ME: Yeah, we’re going. No, I have no idea what the evil plan is. Do we need to come up with a counter-plan? And sorry I never responded...I was busy annoying Sebastian and left my phone in my room. Good morning! This is payback for your late texts last night!

I fall asleep easily after that, double checking that my phone is on silent before snuggling deep down into my pillows.

Honestly, what do I even have to worry about? Everything is going great with promotions, the movie is finished and should be well received, and in a couple of days I’ll get to go see Bong-cha and make new friends!

Into the silence, I can’t help but laugh. I’m not dumb enough to believe that everything will go as planned.

Especially not as my dreams take over and the only thing I can dream of is a man in a black suit, turning around to greet me over and over again. I can never quite see his face, but somehow I know him.

Even in my unconscious state, I lie to myself and say that it’s not Min Yoongi.

Previous - Next

Taglist is open! Ready to head to Seoul next time?

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep​ @prdshobi​

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 4.6 K words (yeah yeah its more than usual)

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Warning: None, just some cursing

Author’s note: The next chapter is here and it is in Aisha’s POV!!

I decided to take part in @choicesseptemberchallenge20​ and the prompt is heaven which you will find in bold. 

TERMS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

- IIT, Delhi: It’s one of the most premier institute for engineering in India. Delhi campus is said to be the best one in the country. The majority of the Indian CEO’s like Google, at least have a degree of IIT under their belt. 

-ku'uipo: Sweetheart

-'Ae: Yes

- Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai: Child, focus on your studies, friends come and go (TBH this is the one line which maximum desi kids have heard while growing up. That's why we can be uh.. awkward in making new friends lol)

-Main kya gadhi hoon: I'm such a dumbass (side note: gadhi (female) actually means donkey in hindi)

-Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine: I have not seen a bigger asshole than this guy. (yes I love swearing in hindi and what about it)

Forgive me if i made any errors

10 YEARS AGO- AISHA'S POV

My fingers ran against the spines of the book, my head tilted as I searched for a new book to dive into.

"Found anything of your liking, Aisha?" Tina, the librarian asked, her kind eyes twinkling. The old librarian loved me because I always helped around in sorting the books or with checkout. She suggested that if I were to help her, she would pay me so I decided why not?

But the lack of people coming to the library and their constant need to be fake on social media, flexing about their looks instead of textbooks often left the library empty which consequently resulted in free time.

Not that I minded.

In that free time I would either catch up on my study assignments or I would read the books recently added to the collection be it fiction, politics, history, astronomy... I wasn't picky about the genres.

But lately, my attention is being drawn to medical journals and textbooks. Yes, I'm 16 and that its definitely not people my age do but, to be the person balancing on the tightrope between life and death, the person who stands between existence and heaven... it's just a beautiful paradox that I can't help be captivated by the concept.

That and my strengths are biology and chemistry so its just an added plus. So, I definitely dream of being a world class doctor. 

Not to brag, but I know all the pulse points in the body and can name the bones of the skull in my sleep. My parents don't know that because... let's say there is a reason why I stay out of home for the majority of the day.

Are we again going to go over this? I am sick and tired of your fucking indiscipline. How I wish you could be more like Aditya... Mama's voice rung in my ears which made me close my eyes and take a shuddering breath.

Now is not the time to think about how awful you are. I repeated it in my head like a mantra, making it a point to message my brother and rant about the newest development.

Despite our parents trying to pit me against bhaiya, we were thick as thieves. We always had each other's backs and we're there to cheer each other up. Whenever our parents would scream at any of us, we would wait until they fell asleep to do something to lift the other person up. Midnight feasts, movie binge or just cuddling and imagining a future where we were away from them... That always managed to cheer me up and I knew bhaiya enjoyed it too.

I don't think we fought that much either because we were pretty close in age, with only three and a half years difference. We are pretty like-minded and scientifically inclined only he was interested in computer engineering while I was fascinated by the engineering of the human body.

It sucked that he is in IIT, Delhi while I'm so far away. We still manage to video call irrespective of the time zones but it is not the same as having the comfort of your older brother.

"I think I will take this." I handed her a battered copy of Gray's anatomy.

Tina just gave a knowing smile and I checked out. I headed to the nearby Fleming Beach Park, which is one of the most popular beaches in Maui. It was a five-minute walk from the library and the majority of the school population used to come here to hang out in the evenings.

Not that I was paying any attention to my oblivious classmates.

I headed to Kimo's Beach Shack and the owner gave me a gentle smile.

"What will it be, ku'uipo? The usual?" They asked as they wiped their hand on the dishtowel.

"'Ae." I smiled at them and they started making my favourite drink- Strawberry milkshake.

Precariously balancing my bag, the drink in one hand and my wrist-thick library book under the armpit of my other hand, I headed to the quieter side of the beach, away from the raucous.

I settle down under the shade of the palm trees and lean back against the rocks, taking in the view around me. I could see people from my school roaming around in their swimming suits either playing volleyball or surfing. As I sipped my milkshake (looking like an absolute loner, must I add) my eyes drifted to their happy faces as the joked around, laughing and having fun with their friends.

The two concepts that are so unfamiliar to me.

When I was back in India, I had a good group of friends who I would hang out with and play basketball with. It was good but shifting to a new place can strain those relationships. I do follow them on social media but seeing them enjoying and doing the things which we used to do together, it causes my heart to ache.

And I never really tried making friends here in Maui because a) The people here didn't consider me as one of them and b) My parents kept on saying it is temporary so there was no point focusing on that. Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai. My dad told me the one night I decided to express my excessive loneliness.

Thanks papa, real helpful. I shook my head, sipping my drink as I carefully opened my library book.

"You look sad." A childish voice spoke up breaking me out from my melancholy. I looked up and saw a four-year-old girl, her doe-like eyes staring down at me. She was wearing a pink summer dress and a cute bow hairband, taming her light brown hair.

"Huh?"

"You look sad... and lonely."

"I am okay, keiki... Don't worry."

The kid's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "How did you know my name?"

My eyes widened. In the two years in Hawaii, I had learnt a little bit of Hawaiian and spoke in bits and pieces. And I'm pretty sure keiki meant 'child' in Hawaiian so you could imagine the shock I felt when her name was the literal translation of child.

Who the fuck names their child... child?

"A lucky guess. It is nice to meet you Keiki." She moved her hand forward and Keiki's hand clutched my big hand with her small ones shaking it. Her hand was as big as my palm.

"What's your name?" Keikie asked as she sat down next to me.

"I'm Aisha. And, what are you doing here all alone?"

"I came with my elder brother but he and his friends were playing and he forgot his promise to build a sandcastle with me. So I just went walking." She huffed and crossed her short arms across her chest.

"Well, your brother would be worried about you, won't he?" I asked as her eyes scan the crowd, looking for a guy who remotely looks like my little companion.

"Well, I think that's a go-good puni-shi-ment for him." She struggled with the big word.

Aisha chuckled and soon Keiki's giggles joined hers.

"You remind me of the times when I used to bother my elder brother like that. He would get so mad."

"Where is he now?" She asked as her hands fisted the sand, her eyes moving to look at the brunette.

"Well, he is in university, in a completely different country."

"Do you miss him?"

"A lot." I sighed. Her puppy eyes met mine and she reached to hold my elbow. I smiled down at her, appreciating the gesture. She opened her mouth to ask me more questions when we heard a commotion.

"KEIKI!! There you are!" A shout wafted towards us, interrupting Keiki. I saw a tall guy jogging towards us and when my eyes landed on him, I immediately recognized him.

Bryce Lahela. The golden boy of my school, with girls and guys falling for him, left, right, centre. And right now, he was approaching me completely shirtless, his abs glistening in the evening sun. He had a Polynesian tattoo wrapping around his left bicep and ending a little below his collarbone which had me feeling... uh thirsty?

Cool, cool, cool, just act like yourself.

Yeah as if that's helped you deal with your awkwardness. Her conscience snarked at her.

“Shut up.” I muttered to myself. But, I wasn’t subtle enough and Bryce turned towards me, a weird look in his eyes.

Off to a great start, Aisha. Keep up the good work. I mentally groaned as I went back to reading my library book. 

"Thank god Keiki you are okay... I was so worried." He kneeled and hugged her, immediately forgetting my weird mumblings. I could feel the body heat emanating from him and suddenly, the anatomy of the kidney seemed more interesting than the hot guy beside me.

"Its okay Bryce. I was talking to my new friend." Keiki squeaked as she pulled away from the hug, two sets of hazel eyes staring at me now.

My eyes widened and I subconsciously reached to push my glasses up my nose, feeling the back of my neck heating up.

"Well, thank you so much." His voice reverberated and I swear I felt as if I would combust at the spot.

I looked up and shot a tiny smile. "No worries. Keiki here makes a nice study buddy."

I internally smacked my head. Study buddy? Really? Who uses that term now?

"Of course. Daddy says that I'm a beauty with brains." She said with a smug smile.

"Well, that's the one thing that I agree with dad," Bryce said as he settled down on her other side. The one feet distance enabled my mind to resume working.

I smiled down at Keiki and I found that Bryce was looking at me intently.

O... okay?

"Wait... You go to my school right? Lahainaluna High School?"

I nodded my head. I was about to introduce myself when his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He was snapping his fingers when his face lightened up with recognition. "You are Aisha, right? The newbie who joined us last year I was in your chemistry class last year."

The drink almost fell from my hand and I had to clutch it tighter to prevent myself from making a bigger mess. Clearing my throat I smiled nervously. "Yeah, that's me. You are Bryce, right? You are on the basketball team, right?"

"You know me?" He asked, shocked and I could hardly stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Duh?! You are Mr. Popular with really good looks and either people love you or hate you." I rambled off.

A small smile played on his lips. "And which category would you belong too? The love or hate category?"

I gave a shy smile. "Let's just say I'm on neutral grounds. Give me a good reason why I should like you."

"Because of my dashing looks? My tattoo?" He stretched his hands wide, gesturing towards himself. His hair caught the evening light, making it look like a halo. His hazel eyes had flecks of gold which threatened to drown me but before I could get lost in his sheer beauty, I shook my head to snap out of the daze of his presence and gave a mocking sigh.

"Aaaannnndd, he is just like other dumb jocks who is overly obsessed with his looks. Why are they all the same?"

Keiki put her hand sympathetically on my lap. "Don't worry Ash. I don't like Bryce when he talks about his looks either."

Bryce gasped. "Keiki you are breaking my heart."

"Good."

He reached for her and started tickling her which made her squeal with laughter. I had to get up so that the sand doesn't get on me, laughing at the sight. "Brryyccee!! Stopp!!"

"Not until you tell me I'm the best brother in the world."

Gasping for breath with tears in her eyes, Keiki breathed out in defeat. "Okay, okay. You are the best... brother in... the world."

Bryce pulled back a grin playing on his lips.

"Good."

My phone rang and I saw Mama's name flash on the screen which made me sigh.

"Your mom?" Bryce asked.

"Yep. should reach home before she turns into momzilla." We chuckled as I put my book into my bag.

"Bye Keiki, it was nice talking to you."

"Bye Ash. I like you. Can we make sandcastles next time?" I laughed and nodded, "Sure sweetie."

"Where is my goodbye?" Bryce pouted.

I rolled her eyes. "Bye Bryce. See you around."

And with that, I turned on her heel, and walked home, feeling much better.

PRESENT

Aisha felt like banging her head against the wall of the hospital out of utter embarrassment. In the span of 7 hours, she had pissed off her superior, met her ex from ten years ago, got stuck with a partner who hardly did anything and now managed to embarrass herself yet again in front of her role model.

Rookie... Are you hiding from me? The way Dr. Ramsey had an eyebrow raised, as if to question why she was hiding behind another intern and the appalled expression as she stumbled over her words were forever imprinted in her mind.

Not my brightest moment. Aisha recollected as she sighed at the way she stuttered and finally came up with an excuse.

I'm doing charts. She mocked herself as she shook her head. There was a table right next to me!! I could have come up with anything but that weak ass excuse.

And she had always dreamed that if she were to meet Bryce in real life, she would definitely insult the fuck out of him and then for the finishing stroke, she would probably punch him in his handsome face or kick him in the crown jewels.

But sadly, you seldom get the things you wish for.

I don't have time for this - Main kya gadhi hoon. She mentally groaned as she tried to shut off the part of her brain which was so hell-bent on making her feel humiliated.

She entered Annie's room to find her curled up in her bed, playing idly with her phone. She perked up a little when she saw Aisha, forcing a smile on her face.

"Oh. Hi, Dr. Khurrana."

"I just came by to see how you're feeling Annie."

Annie shrugged. "The same. The nurse came by and gave me some medication a little while ago.."

Opening Annie's chart she checked. "Yeah, antibiotics. It's too soon to see any improvement yet, but hopefully, we'll see some results soon."

Aisha was about to turn on her heel and leave when she heard Annie's small voice. "hey, could you stay awhile? It's... kinda lonely, being here all on my own."

Aisha gave an empathetic smile and reached to sit down on the chair near her bed. "Of course I can."

"Thank you once again doc."

"No, thank you. I haven't been off my feet since I got out of bed this morning. So Annie," Aisha leaned forward, "what are you studying?"

Annie blinked as if she was confused by the question. She took a couple of heavy breaths before attempting to answer.

"My master's is in... English... but my... my..." She swayed, her voice woozy as she tried to finish her sentence.

Aisha was on alert. "Annie, are you feeling okay?" She asked as she felt her pulse which was dropping before Annie passed out.

The heart rate monitor sounded a long, flat tone as her heart stopped.

"OH MY GOD!! Code blue, I need some help here!!" Aisha shouted, pressing the button near her bed.

"C'mon Annie stay with me." As Aisha stood on the nearby stool, performing CPR as she waited for the code team to arrive.

"Aisha?!" Jackie's shocked voice made her lookup.

"Jackie, where is the code team?"

"Room 502 called a code blue just before you. Just keep up with CPR. They'll get to you when they can!"

Aisha's eyes flashed. "That could be too late!! Help me, Jackie we are losing her fast."

"What were her symptoms?" Jackie asked as she snapped on the latex gloves and moved towards the bed.

"Symptoms were headache and nausea. Started during her vacation to Indonesia. Aurora and I did a blood workup and gave her cefpodoxime." Aisha opened the gown and Jackie's eyes narrowed in on the rash rapidly spreading on the side of the body.

"She is breaking in hives. She is in anaphylactic shock!"

"Now that I think about it, it may be because of her allergy to the antibiotics I gave... I had fucking asked her, dammit." Guilt made her chest heavy.

Jackie's face turned into a scowl as she wheeled the defibrillator cart closer. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. This girl needs you now! We have to get her heart started ourselves."

Aisha nodded as she opened Annie's gown, baring her chest. She took a steadying breath. You have done this numerous times in AIIMS, you can do this.

Taking the paddles, she placed one paddle on the right side, beneath her collarbone and the other paddle on the left side, just beneath her armpit.

A small impressive smile made its way on Jackie's lips. "Good, now set the charge."

"Charging to 300 volts... Clear!"

Annie's body spasmed as the paddles discharged. Keeping them aside, Aisha resumed her compressions on Annie's chest.

C'mon Annie... You can do this... Come back to me. Aisha prayed.

The monitor beeped twice before Annie's heartbeat returned, accelerated but constant.

She let out a sigh of breath as she bent over the bed. Jackie clapped her back. "You are soooo lucky."

"Shut up. Now just give her an epinephrine injection and intubate while I maintain compression."

Jackie nodded her head and Aisha shot a grateful smile as she continued her compressions, her hands aching.

"What the hell is going on in here, Rookie?"

Yikes. Aisha winced at the tone and looked up to find Dr. Ramsey glaring from the doorway.

Time to own up, buddy. She sighed and spoke up. "Dr. Ramsey, she was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed.

She couldn't gauge his reaction from so far away. "Well... at least you are taking responsibility. Sometimes patients don't know about their own allergies. That's why you always have to be cautious."

Jackie injected the epinephrine pen into Annie's tight. Still unconscious, Annie took a shuddering gasp of air.

"And now we intubate."

"Excellent work, Doctor...?"

A self-satisfied smile made its way on Jackie's face. "Varma."

"You were assigned to this case?"

"No, I was passing and I hear Dr. Khurrana calling a code blue."

A smile made its way on his face which shocked Aisha. This man voluntarily uses his facial muscles to smile? I wouldn't have known. "The patient's very lucky you were here. I'm not confident Dr. Khurrana could have handled this alone."

Now, wait a damn minute... Aisha clenched her jaw. This wasn't her first time she was getting insulted and yeah it was called for but it didn't help her feel any better either.

Jackie bit her lip and glanced at Aisha, which Aisha pointedly ignored. Watch her jump at the opportunity in 3...2...1

"Thank you. Just doing my job, Dr. Ramsey."

There it is.

Gulping down her annoyance, Aisha spoke up. "Dr. Varma really bailed me out." Aisha turned towards Jackie and nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Dr. Varma."

Jackie tried to read her, guilt swimming in her eyes.

She should be guilty, she took the credit of the save when I was the one calling the shots.

"...Anytime."

Fuck you. She narrowed her eyes slightly which made Jackie wince.

Luckily, Dr. Ramsey gave Jackie an out. "Dr. Varma, you should return to your patients."

A relieved smile made its way on her face. "Yes, Doctor." Throwing a backward glance towards Aisha, she walked out.

Dr. Ramsey swivelled towards Aisha, his face drawn tight with annoyance. "And you... you need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here. It doesn't matter that it's your first day, or that you're still learning. Whether this girl lives or dies is on you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Dr. Ramsey."

"You still have no idea what's wrong with her, and your first attempt nearly killed her. This is the real world. No room for mista--"

"Hi, Dr. Ramsey? Sorry to interrupt." A short Asian intern interrupted him and Aisha let out a small sigh of relief.

This guy would give my parents a run for their money. Why do I meet assholes everywhere I go?

"For the love of God, what now?"

"One of the nurses told me... that one of the other interns told them... that one of the doctors said..."

Dr. Ramsey certainly didn't enjoy beating around the bush. With a biting voice, sharp enough to make both Aisha and the intern to flinch, he commanded. "Skip to the point."

"Dr. Toussaint needs to see you urgently." She rushed.

Dr. Ramsey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered something about 'interns' under his breath.

Straightening his coat, who gave pointedly glanced at Aisha. "Remember what I said, Rookie. Next time I see you, you'd better have solved the case." He turned on his feet and stormed out making the petite intern jump.  

Aisha stepped out into the hall with the intern, leaned against the wall and let out a sigh.

"Thank god for Dr. Toussaint. I swear if he wouldn't have called, Dr. Ramsey would have burst a vein or something."

The intern leaned against the wall adjacent to Aisha. "Yeah... Too bad he doesn't actually need to see Dr. Ramsey."

Aisha's eyes widened and she turned to stare at the other intern. "Huh?"

"I made it up! I could hear Ramsey chewing you out halfway down the hall, I figured you might need a save."

Oh my god, that is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me.

Aisha smiled brightly. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. But you could get in serious trouble if he realizes it."

She shrugged with a cheeky grin. "If. Besides, I'm tougher than I look. I'm Sienna by the way. Or Dr. Trinh. Whichever floats your boat."

"I'm Aisha Khurrana. Thanks again." Aisha's pager beeped and she looked down and sighed. "As fun as our little adventure was, I need to get back to work. Nice talking to you Sienna and once again, thanks for the save."

"Bye, hope you solve the case. Also, wait! I heard all the doctors hang out at this bar called Donahue's. I think, just down the street. Apparently, it's like the place to go and decompress after a long shift. Wanna come?"

"Sure!! If only I survive my first shift."

Sienna gave a brilliant smile. "Assuming you live through the next few hours, I'll meet you in the atrium after we clock out."

And Aisha got back to work, tending to her other patients but Annie's unconscious face kept on flashing behind her eyelids and Ramsey's words echoed in her head, like a broken tape recorder.

You need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here.

She took a shuddering breath, doubt slipping into her mind, making her question everything she did. Every patient she treated and every prescription she signed.

Am I really cut out for this?

She tried to stop the rising anxiety but it still continued to swell in her like a balloon. Her throat began to dry up and it felt as if the weight on her chest didn't allow her to breathe.

Oh god, it's happening.

Feeling like she was on the verge of a breakdown, she ducked into a dark supply closet so nobody could see her while she tried to pull herself together.

It's okay. You worked your way through med school to get here. You are worthy. She chanted, taking in gulps of air.

It had hardly been a minute when the door suddenly opened and she heard footsteps.

Aisha internally groaned in annoyance. "Get in or get out. Just quit holding the door." She turned around and saw Bryce.

Oh fuck.

He nervously cleared his throat and walked towards her, maintaining his distance. "I feel like I'm interrupting something. Are... are you okay?"

Thanks to the dark, he couldn't see her tear rimmed eyes. Sighing loudly she untied her hair and ran her fingers through it, something she often did when she felt like her life was on the verge of falling apart.

"Nothing. I'm just looking for something." She tried to speak in a sharp tone but it just sounded like her voice was cracking.

She knew that Bryce had definitely heard how close she was to crying. Concern laced his voice. "Hey, I know when we met I was nothing but a dumb, self-obsessed jock but it's different now. I... I know you are not okay. Want to talk about it? Or vent?"

Goddamit Bryce. "Fine! I almost killed my first patient and I fucking swear to god I saw my career flash before my eyes. But it was lowkey my fault. I should have checked for allergies. But I tried fixing my error by calling the shots and Jackie helped me. BUT that's not it! Instead of being a humble person, Jackie swoops in and takes the credit of my save and Dr. Ramsey just goes on congratulating her as if she won some fucking AMA Award-"

"Aisha, breathe."

Taking a lungful of air she continued. "- And don't even get me started on Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey. Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine. What a dick!! He should get fucking laid to work off all his anger issues-"

Bryce snorted but didn't dare to interrupt Aisha. From the short time they dated, he knew better than to interrupt her mid-rant, it only managed to instigate her.

Another deep breathe. "- Boy does he manage to make me doubt myself in every step of the way like am I worthy of being here? I mean, I threw my heart and soul into med school because I wanted to be the best doctor out there but dammit I don't think I am ready."

When he made sure she wasn't going to launch into a new roast session, he spoke up. "Wow. You managed so many years of med school, but eight hours into the shift and you're surrendering? Didn't take you for a quitter."

Excuse me? Aisha's eyes narrowed.

"You don't know me anymore Bryce. The Aisha you dated is long gone and dead." She said in a low voice.

He shrugged. "True, but I know that you still have the fire in you to do what you love the most. C'mon, you have dealt with worse but yet you are here, standing tall. This is just temporary. I know you can pick yourself back up and break down all the obstacles in front of you."

She looked up at Bryce, only able to see the faint outline of his body. He still was the same- tall, well built and with really good hair. "No offence but... you used to be the guy who would wet himself during chemistry practicals, what happened to make you so...?" She gestured her hand at him, accidentally hitting his hand.

He hesitated. "As you said, things changed and you don't know me anymore Aisha."

"Fair enough."

The lack of space and the awkward silence just fueled the tension between them. She could feel his converse bumping into her shoes and the heated gaze on her face.

There used to be a time when Aisha and Bryce would talk for hours on end and they never ran out of topics to talk about. Be it something as lame as which is the superior flavour of ice cream or as deep as life after death.

Look at us now... Aisha thought to herself, gulping.

Her hair fell on her face as she averted her eyes, unable to come up with something to talk about. Bryce's hand involuntary reached to push back the rebel strands behind her ear, his hands caressing her cheek in the process. It felt as if electric sparks shot up her cheeks, making her blush.

Bryce opened his mouth. "Aisha-"

The door opened and she heard a feminine voice. "Bryce I saw you giving me the look so I decided to join you-"

A woman walked around the corner of the help and Aisha's jaw dropped. It was not because she was shocked that he was dating, he could screw the entire hospital for all she cared but, no... she was topless.

"Oh." The unknown woman placed her hands beside her.

"Sam-" Bryce began and Aisha spoke up at the same time. "I was just-"

The confusion was interrupted again when the closet door opened again and a senior resident stood before them, aghast. "What is going on over here?"

"Oh fuck." The expletive spilt from Aisha's lips.

The topless woman, whose name apparently was Sam, quipped in. "Yeah what she said."

Well, this is totally not awkward.

AUTHOR”S NOTE #2:

Number one, yeah I dragged PB a bit in regards to Keiki’s name.. PB do your research challenge 🙄

Number two, okay so about the tattoo part, me and @bratzlahela​ were just talking about Bryce having Polynesian tattoos based on this post and I had to integrate it in my series lol

This is something I imagined 🤭

Number 3, Also I tried to change up the scene a bit with Jackie because tbh, Aisha is pretty fucking smart and she won’t be like “Boo-hoo. I don’t know anything” And about the part where she spoke about using the defibrillator numerous times in AIIMS, In India the medical education is a little more hands-on and focuses more on clinical practice rather than theory. Medical students from first year start doing ward duty and help around in the hospitals taking patient history, etc. Also, they have a mandatory year of internship without which you don’t get your license.  

Number 4, So about that supply closet scene, how many of y’all thought would you get a make out sesh?

If yes, here is your clown wig 🤡

Number 5, AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT TODDLER KEIKI I SWEAR I WAS JUST GUSHING THE ENTIRE TIME 🥺

Lastly, IT PHYSICALLY HURT ME TO ROAST ETHAN LIKE IM SO SORRY SWEETIE 😭🥺🤧

This was a pretty long author’s note heheheh

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[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 80: Pulled From Orbit

As two empires threaten to fall, Lance and Keith part ways

Hot Take: the paladin armor actually kinda sucks and my children deserve better

First  Previous  Next

Despite his insistence that Keith act like, well, like someone who is pregnant, Lance is not at all surprised when the Galra pulls a Marmoran suit of armor out of the bottom of his old chest from Daibazaal. He doesn’t even protest. He’ll take anything at this point.

“Listen to me.” Lance comes up behind him as he finishes dressing, gently draws the gold and amber comb from Keith’s hair, replacing it with a set of black pins. BleepBloop watches from the ladder to the loft. “Whatever happens next, I love you, and I love your people, too.”

“What happens if we must choose between your people and mine?”

Lance inhales sharply, gripping Keith’s shoulders tight. “Raze the current rule to the ground and start our own allied regime?”

Keith works up a smile. “Yes, let’s. You can rule by my side. I’ll allow it.”

Lance doesn't manage a smile, but his eyes soften for a moment, that warrior's gaze faltering in a surge of fondness.

Keith eyes their profile in the mirror, watches Lance’s hands travel down to his fingertips, up to his waist as he lays his scaled cheek on his shoulder. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in armor, the first time their sharpest edges are in bold.

Lance’s armor is as fine as anything, white metal inlaid with his token deep, bright blue. A breastplate, greaves and boots, bracers, all made of metal plates. Instead of a plackart, cuisses, and other minor plates, Lance has scale and fine mail, and Keith notices that the pauldrons are made of many small, reinforced plates to allow more flexibility in the shoulders. More than suitable for someone with a mixed fighting style. And, of course, beneath all that is a flight suit, air tight and climate controlled the moment Lance’ helmet locks into place.

The contrast, the incongruity between them has never been more apparent, Keith’s dark, minimalist armor casting a shadow over his mate's starbright form. Lance is armed like a hero, and Keith looks like a thief in the night. He’s okay with that, happy to be underestimated. A small man with a knife and a secret skillset is far more dangerous than a big man with a large sword. The growing wolf at his side only adds to their disparity.

He is Lance’s thorn, his last resort.

“Your Majesties.” Adam steps into the room, face grim. “King Alfor has summoned you to the Situation Room.”

Keith nods, clasps Lance’s hand, laces their fingers together. He will have to let go far too soon for his liking. The Altean prince snatches up his helmet, rushing after Adam, wolf at their heels.

The situation room is dark, lit only by a large, round holotable and the pale blue accent lights on peoples' armor. There are screens hovering over the table, lit up with interfaces, statistics, and control panels. Alfor is waiting for them. All of the lines in his face are chasms, his eyes glowing a dim, pale blue. It strikes Keith suddenly how washed out Alfor’s quintessence is, how little person is in the man. He wonders who the king might have been, had he been allowed.

“Boys. I know you expect to be sent away, lives preserved. But I offer you the option to stay, and act as leaders in my stead. Of all the things I have prepared for, I am not prepared for this.”

“Neither are we,” Lance confesses. Keith grips his hand tighter, trying to regulate himself. He can’t afford to lose it now. “But I will stay, and do what I can.”

Silence, only for a moment, before Keith realizes that they’re waiting for him. “My place is here, with our peoples. It always has been.”

Alfor nods. “Tell us what you know.”

Keith’s eyes finally register other faces, Iverson, glaring at him. Griffin, surprisingly not glaring at him. “We received a message from my mother. She says that the Imperial Compound is under attack, and that rebel forces are heading for Altea.”

“You don’t seem very surprised.” Iverson’s tone is more than a little accusing. Some of the other high-ranking military members seem to share his disposition. Keith ignored them. He's used to the prejudice by now, and there are more pressing concerns.

“We’ve been aware of unrest on Daibazaal for some time. Weight discrepancies in shipping containers, people going missing, a sudden increase in deserters. Emperor Zarkon dismissed said deserters, saying that it was to be expected following the unwelcome alliance with Altea. It’s unclear if he knows anything about the shipping containers.”

“So the emperor’s allegiances are unclear?” Griffin asks.

“Yes,” Lance sighs. “As are Honerva’s.”

Pidge’s face appears on screen. “Hey, I have something to contribute to that. Not that I’ve been eavesdropping or anything.”

“What do you have for us, Pidge?” Alfor leans on the holotable, gaze severe.

“So remember how Lotor helped me hack into his medical records for reasons?”

“Yeeees?” Lance frowns, not sure he wants to have this conversation with everyone else in the room. But it’s hardly the time for tiptoeing. “Why? What did you find?”

“Turns out Honerva’s been experimenting on Lotor his entire life. See, as a result of his hybrid status -at least, that’s what I’m assuming- Lotor can only absorb quintessence, not redistribute it. It looks like Honerva was trying to artificially recreate that power. She keeps referencing this… thing. The Komar Experiment-”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Keith mutters. Under everyone’s gaze, Keith takes a steadying breath. He’s starting to feel queasy, like adrenaline or simply time has cut through the antinausea medication. He strokes Wolf's head with his free hand. “The word ‘Komar’ doesn’t directly translate into Common or Altean, but it means, ‘large breath that takes’. It um, it’s like the first breath a baby takes, or like after you break the surface of water after near drowning. It’s Galran folklore that-” He swallows saliva, skin feeling hot. “-that when someone takes a lifegiving breath, another life ends.”

Adam slips something into his palm: a small pill. He dry swallows quickly, in the wake of what he’s just suggested.

“Are you implying,” Iverson growls. “That Honerva experimented on her son in order to invent some device that absorbs quintessence?”

Alfor falls into a chair, eyes glassy. “Honerva is perhaps the greatest inventor I have ever known. Lotor is thirty-two years old. She’s had more than enough time if this is what she’s been up to.”

"Her notes are... specific. Lotor has been surprisingly unattached to his parents, despite his Galra blood," Pidge murmurs. "I would not be surprised if it's a result of the invasive procedures he was subjected to in infancy. Trauma he doesn't even remember. Honerva would put him in situations with the intention to cause distress in order to activate him limited alchemical abilities so she could study him. She would neglect, frighten, and even harm him in order to get the desired reaction."

“And that's horrible. Truly. But we don’t know that’s what she’s up to right now,” Lance cuts in. “What we do know, is that the Imperial Compound is under attack, meaning that these attackers staging a coup. If they succeed, they’ll come for us next. According to our sources, ships are already on their way here.”

“So we have a planet to defend, a coup to stop, a prince, princess, and consort to rescue, and possibly a horrifying weapon of unknown size to find and destroy. One that could, for all we know, be capable of draining our entire planet and others,” Griffin summarized. “How the quiznak do we do this?”

Silence. Keith takes in a deep, slightly-less-nauseous breath. “We split up. Lance will go to Daibazaal, rally the citizens, and take Daibazaal back from the rebels. I will stay here, and lead the defense.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Griffin mutters.

“No, he’s right. Lance will go to Daibazaal, and I will go with him. We will determine who is in the right, and join their side. He and I will rally the civilians, form a small team, and find a way to infiltrate the Compound.” Alfor gets to his feet. “Keith, rally your men. Defend this planet, and its people. But if we should fall, you are to escape by any means necessary. Do you understand?”

Keith can feel the eyes of everyone in the room, soldiers, analysts, Adam, Lance. Waiting for his answer, putting two and two together, realizing exactly what’s at stake.

“I understand. My life, by any means necessary.”

“I will stay with him, and watch his back,” Adam declares.

Keith nods, turns to Griffin. “The battalion will meet in the courtyard. They have three dobashes to form up.”

“They already are,” the aubergine-scaled Altean says, dark blue eyes hard. “We are ready, and await your orders.”

Keith nods. “Have someone ready a ship. We’re putting King Alfor and Crown Prince Lancel on the ground in Daibazaal, just outside the Compound. Lance, rally the people, follow their lead. Trust them to know which side to be on. They want peace, just as we do.”

“I know, beloved.” Lance squeezes his hand. Keith hadn’t realized he was still holding it. The Altean heaves in a great breath, forces a smile. “Will you come see me off?”

“Nothing short of death would stop me,” Keith promises.

The royals and their entourage sprint through the halls toward the courtyard where a small craft shaped like an arrowhead is already waiting. Alfor climbs right in, datapad in hand. Lance lets go of Keith’s hand, ready to board. He pulls Adam into a brief, strong hug. “Take care of yourself, and him.”

“Always, your Majesty.”

Keith notices a dangerous shine in the attendant’s eye, a kind of terror he himself is feeling. He says nothing, not even as he watches Adam’s body tremble. Adam is fearful, but ready. No matter what lies ahead.

Keith is not ready. He snatches at Lance’s arm, fingers pressing into the armor of his suit. Those blue and pink eyes he loves so much find his immediately, strangely open, ready to see anything and everything all at once.

Lance’s face is not without fear, body humming with quintessence, red and blue hovering over his form, shimmering in his eyes. The prince smiles, paper-thin. He removes his circlet, hands it to Keith. “I won’t need this where I’m going.”

Keith tosses the circlet aside, where it skitters over the ground. He pulls Lance to him, kisses him soundly, fingers in white hair, sliding over the scale at Lance’s waist. A single twist of their tongues, all they have time for, and he pulls away, noses touching.

“No matter what, I am so, so proud of you. I am proud to be your mate… Please-” He gulps. “Please come home to me, if you can.”

“Beloved…” Lance presses their foreheads together, brushes thumbs over Keith’s cheekbones. “Not even death could keep me away.”

Keith takes in one last deep breath, rubs his cheek into the gloved palm of Lance’s hand, a very subtle way of letting the other Galra know this man is his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Lance pulls away, eyes not leaving Keith’s face for a long moment. Then he leans up, whispers in Keith’s ear, “You, and little one. With all my heart.”

And maybe Keith knows that’s not true, that if it came down to him or Atlea, Lance would choose Altea. But Keith would make him, agree with him, even though he knows it would break Lance to do it.

The prince puts on a crooked smile, kisses Keith’s cheek one last time before he puts on his helmet and turns away, following his father into the craft.

Keith watches as they lift off, just until they’re out of sight, before he turns to Griffin. “You’re going to follow my orders, and you’re going to like it, or you’re going to get the fuck out of my way, understood?”

Griffin nods, letting his visor drop down over his face. Iverson just sighs. “What’s our move then?”

“Order the civilians to go into lockdown. Any former or current soldiers who have a weapon should stand by in case of attack. Send a runner into the lowlands. Then we assign pilots to the MFE crafts. I want a squadron, broken into four flights of six. Initiate land defense and mobilize drones-”

A screeching flare of light, and a tower at the corner of the courtyard explodes.

“Brace yourselves.” Keith’s eyes find a pinprick in the swath of blue sky. He pulls his hood up, mask sliding down to cover his face, sealing his suit. “This will not be an easy fight.”

“We stand with you,” Adam murmurs, taking a polearm from a passing soldier. Each end is armed with a wicked, barbed glaive.

Keith draws his knife, feeling the blade shift in his hand. He doesn’t know who these people are -hopefully- but he will rip apart every last one of them.

Whatever it takes.

Lance stares out the front window, despairing at the sight before him. An armada of Galra ships, painted with strange symbols.

“Can you read that?” Alfor murmurs, clearly putting a lot of faith in their cloaking technology.

“It says, ‘The Fire of Purification’.”

“Oh, wonderful. We’re dealing with elitist thugs. My absolute favorite,” the king growls. Lance licks his lips, apprehensive. “Here, I want you to have this.”

Lance stares at the strange weapon his father is offering him. White, black, and his own special shade of blue, the weapon seems like two halves of a hand guard with a handle in between. “What is it?”

“I call it a bayard. It will shift into whatever you need it to, whenever you need it, and is absorbed and stored in your armor just like your shield.” Alfor inhales, holds his breath until they’ve slipped past the armada. “It will serve you well. You won’t waste time juggling weapons.”

A stretch of silence, and Alfor murmurs, "I wanted to wish you happy birthday earlier. I have an actual gift for you, if we ever get the chance."

Lance nods, drops his sword, bow and quiver, knowing he might never see any of them again. “Did you- Have you called Dad?”

“I sent him a message… He sends his love.”

“Just a message?” Lance asks. “That’s- That’s all you need? That’s all you’re giving him?”

The king takes a deep breath. “Your dad… He’s been prepared for anything for a very long time. Whatever happens this quintant, he is ready for it.”

Lance finds himself a bit envious of that, that his parents have had centaphoebs together to reconcile with what it means to be part of a colonialist empire. Of what it means to be a warring planet. Even if they’d started the day they met, he and Keith would not have been prepared. They haven't even been married haven't known each other a full decaphoeb.

Down on the ground, Lance can see fire, people running, rubble in the streets. Whoever the aggressor is, it’s clear that they are his enemy. He gives his bayard blade a good swing, flips the blade in his hand, only for it to morph into a bow in his hand, and arrow made of light already knocked.

“Father? Are you ready for this?”

“I’m about to go to Daibazaal to rescue them from an apparently elitist regime and possibly kill my only surviving friend. I am not at all ready for this.” The ship enters the atmosphere in a blaze of heat, effectively giving them away as they look for a place to land. “Are you ready?”

Lance gulps. “No. I know these people. I broke bread with these people. I defended them from a monster, I’ve watched their children, cooked them food. And now, I might be about to kill them.”

“And somewhere down there,” Alfor murmurs, searching for a place to land, “is a Galra thinking the same thing about their kin, and possibly about you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It wasn’t meant to.” Their craft begins losing altitude. “It doesn’t matter what happens next, son. We all lose today.”

That much, Lance thinks as the craft settles just outside of town, is very true.

[ahgaseda]

two can keep a secret || chapter 02

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Smoke filled the room. Mark’s bedroom, of course. There was no way in hell you would let him smoke that shit in your room.

Leaning back against the headboard, you scrolled through his phone with disinterest. Mark was on his belly positioned comfortably between your legs. He occasionally rested his head on your lower stomach, just above the waistband of your panties. Which was all you were wearing aside from his undershirt, soaked in his scent of sweat and faded cologne.

Mark puffed on the joint again before discarding what was left. The trip from your bed to his bed had resulted in yet another round of sex, this time with you on your hands and knees. As long as he made you come, you didn’t really give a shit about the position.

Wrenching your fists in the dark material of his comforter, your mouth hung open in a silent cry of mercy as his hips smacked into your ass with every violent thrust. Mark grunted with the effort, his grip on your waist hard and punishing. You could feel the bruises forming, like bold handprint-shaped reminders of your sins.

After a fast, deep thrust that kissed your cervix, you let out a strangled moan and snapped, “Hngh, fuck you, Mark!”

For fucking me too damn good, was what you wanted to say, but you didn’t dare inflate his pride even further. No boy had indulged your desires for rough sex, though if they had, you had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn’t have done it as well as Mark did. Again, that was also something you wouldn’t dare admit to him. His ego was big enough as it was.

Mark chuckled darkly at your words and the sound only tightened the coil in the pit of your stomach. Setting his hand to the back of your neck, Mark pushed you face down into the mattress and held you there, pounding the living shit out of you as his bed squeaked and threatened to give out.

By the time you and your future stepbrother had finished the romp, you spent a good five minutes splayed limply on his sheets. The two of you panted for breath in perfect sync, chests heaving up and down. As energy had slowly returned, you donned his shirt and made yourself comfortable, far too exhausted to make the short trek back to your own bedroom.

“Jackson is having a party on Friday if you wanna go,” you told him, after reading the invite on his phone.

Mark scoffed. “Why? We can get drunk and high and fuck right here.”

“Very funny,” you deadpanned, pursing your lips.

On some level Mark was fully aware of his destructive behaviors, but his anger overruled them. You had given up talking him out of getting high or wasted on the regular fairly quickly. He was stubborn and set in his ways and you knew it was downright hypocritical of you to chide him.

“Are you going or not?” you asked impatiently.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Mark said with a noncommittal shrug. “Free booze.”

You rolled your eyes.

Mark turned his head, eyes flickering with desire. His hands were suddenly on your hips, smoothing up your body underneath his shirt you wore. Once his broad hands landed on your bare breasts and proceeded to squeeze, you lowered the phone and gave him a look.

“No more, Mark.”

He pouted. “Why not?”

You reminded, “They’ll be home any minute and I’m really sore.”

“Tapping out so soon?” he teased, kissing hotly beneath your navel.

“Yes,” you replied bluntly.

Mark let his head fall on your tummy in defeat. “Fine.”

You reached down and raked your nails through his disheveled hair, teasing under your breath, “Such a horny motherfucker.”

Mark lifted his eyes, settling them on your face, and retorted, “That’s what you like about me.”

You pulled his hair. “No, I like your big dick and your big ass hands.”

Mark chuckled and tickled his fingers over your waist. “Yeah, and I like your tight pussy and your pretty titties.”

You laughed. “On that note, I should probably go back to my room.”

Mark tilted his head and teased, “Should I carry you, Miss I’m So Sore?”

You glared. “Don’t make me kick you.”

Before you could protest, Mark hopped up and swept you into his arms. You squeaked in surprise, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself, and chastised him jokingly as he brought you back to your bed.

Mark plopped you down and gave your ass a swat, saying, “Let’s go get food in a bit. I’m fucking starving.”

You gave him a thumbs up, knowing that was a side-effect of his high. “Deal.”

Mark leaned in to steal a kiss, a gesture you happily returned. When he took another and another, you began to smile against his mouth, giggling at his insatiable hunger for you and your body. His kisses became wet and mischievous, and you could feel yourself getting riled up again.

Without a word, you grabbed his shoulders with both hands and pulled him on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles.

Mark broke away long enough to peer into your eyes, cocking an eyebrow. “What happened to please don’t tear it up again?”

Irritated that his mouth was no longer on yours, you growled, “Just keep kissing me, asshole.”

With pleasure, Mark would have said, except you were already tugging at his hair to bring him in for more.

Suddenly, there came a noise downstairs, followed by your father’s voice echoing through the house, “We’re home!”

You shoved Mark away faster than you thought possible and your future stepbrother didn’t hesitate to race out of your room, flinging himself to his own bed before he could get caught between your legs.

Your heart raced for an entirely different reason as you heard your father’s approaching footsteps. Quickly pulling your blanket over yourself, you donned a smile just in time for him to appear in your doorway.

At the sight of you still in bed, your father shook his head and asked, “Are you planning to sleep the day away?”

You replied sweetly, “I’ve been awake, Daddy.”

“Ah, okay. Any sign of life from Mark?”

“Yes, sir,” said Mark, coming to stand beside your father, pulling on his jacket.

“Good morning,” your father quipped, reaching out to shake Mark’s hand.

You wanted to chuckle. They were still unbelievably awkward with each other.

“Morning,” Mark replied, then he turned to you. “Food, remember? Let’s go.”

“Let me get dressed,” you said, shooing them away with a wave of your hand.

Your Dad quipped, “Glad to see the two of you willing to leave the house.”

You almost blushed, but fortunately, your father swiftly left to answer the distant beckoning of your soon-to-be stepmother.

Mark leaned against the frame of your door, arms folded as hair fell in his face. He was watching you with that devilish gaze of his before licking his lips and whispering, “I like the way you say Daddy.”

You grimaced. “I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”

“Do I need to help you get dressed or can you manage it?”

“They are right downstairs,” you murmured, scathing in reproach.

Mark snorted and hissed, “As much as they fuck, they shouldn’t have anything to say about us.”

The vitriol in his voice was overwhelming and you felt adrenaline creep up your spine at how closely he danced to the line. You stopped, eyes soft in pleading. “Mark, you promised.”

Mark melted in an instant. You knew where his weak points were. “I’m only teasing,” he quickly defended. “I just like making your heart race."

With a shake of your head, you finally slipped out of bed and moved toward the dresser. “You’re the worst.”

Mark raked his tongue over his teeth and murmured, “That’s not what you said this morning or last night.”

Pulling on your jeans, you threatened, “Should I tell all of your friends the way I made you sing for me?”

Mark rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip and smiled. “There she is. Come on, the least I can do is feed you after wearing you out.”

“As much as I wore you out, maybe I should be the one treating.”

“Over my dead body,” he huffed, roaming his hand down your back and lingering over the little span of bare skin above your jeans. “Let’s go, woman. This century, please.”

“I’m coming,” you said impatiently, grabbing your purse. “Let me guess - burgers?”

Mark nodded. “Obviously.”

“In-N-Out?”

“The irony. We know all about that, don’t we?”

Your brow furrowed in confusion.

Mark brought his lips to your ear and you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispered in the lowest timbre, “In and out. In and out. In and…”

The memory of his cock stretching you open appeared in your mind. You smacked his chest and earned a childish laugh, but the soreness between your thighs was suddenly begging for his attention. “Only you could make that dirty, Mark Tuan.”

He grinned and smarted, “It’s a gift.”

“Or a curse,” you retorted over your shoulder, heading for the door with him in tow.

chapter 01 ⇤ chapter 02 ⇥ chapter 03

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[syntaxeme]

I Could’ve Danced All Night [RadioDust]

[Read on AO3]  CW: Blood, knifeplay Summary: Alastor goes to a strip club looking for a victim and ends up finding something very different. It turns out Al and Angel Dust are fucked up in similar (or complementary) ways, and Alastor doesn't know how to handle 'clicking' with someone like this. (RadioDust Week day 1: dancing)

— — –

It began with a dance.

The music wasn’t of the sort Alastor typically enjoyed. Too much bass. No feeling in the composition. Mindless, almost, there for one purpose and one purpose alone—though he supposed he shouldn’t expect much more from a strip club. Besides, it served its purpose well enough; the dancers on stage certainly used the rhythm to their advantage.

Alastor sat on the far left side of the room, simply waiting and observing, keeping an eye out for a potential target. There was a girl strutting and preening on the stage nearest him, but she was focusing her attention on the other men in the area, likely unnerved by his smile. That was fine. She was too meek to be a satisfying kill.

It didn’t much matter to him exactly what type of demon he wound up leaving with: a patron, a bartender, maybe even one of the limber performers. Every person’s death was unique, so it wouldn’t do to count anyone out based on conditions like that. All he really wanted was an individual, someone singular, someone who stood out. And then he planned to spend the entire night exploring exactly how that individual responded to fear, to pain, to panic. The thought had him almost giddy with excitement.

“All right, you filthy fuckin’ sinners,” a gravel-voiced demon announced from somewhere unseen, “how many of you ever seen an angel up close?” A lascivious cheer raised in many of the patrons, but Alastor was puzzled by the phrasing. Surely they couldn’t mean an actual angel. Was it even possible for one of them to survive in Hell? Now that would be an interesting target. “Give it up for the hottest piece of ass in Hell, Angel Duuust!”

The music kicked up louder still as, on the stage in the very center of the room, yet another scantily-clad demon descended into view, spiraling down one of those poles to stop just inches from the floor in a dramatic pose that sent the audience into a frenzy yet again. Not a real angel, clearly, but an interesting figure nevertheless.

He—at least Alastor assumed the demon was a man based on his body language and general lack of curves—was a tall, spindly creature with two sets of arms and legs for miles. A gold tooth glinted in his sharp smile as he danced, and it was obvious from his playful demeanor that he was perfectly at home in this position. And the way he moved… Alastor had trouble taking in every aspect of the performance at once, his eyes lingering on one hand running through Angel Dust’s hair while the others slid slowly down his slender legs. Then all four hands grasped the pole again to fling the dancer’s lithe body around it in another quick spiral.

Oh yes, that was very promising. The entire performance was meant to arouse desire in the viewer, and while it wasn’t of a sexual sort, Alastor’s interest was piqued nevertheless. From the sound of things, this Angel Dust was a popular performer, meaning it would be noticed if/when he disappeared. But that had never stopped Alastor from pursuing what he wanted in the past.

When the song finished (in a manner of speaking, as the music here seemed to be unending), Angel Dust strolled around the perimeter of the stage collecting tips from his audience, pausing here or there to reward individual patrons with a come-hither smile or a stroke of their cheek. So that was the way to get his attention. Fair enough.

As he sauntered across the catwalk that led from the center stage to the one along the far wall, Alastor produced his wallet and tossed a handful of bills at the feet of the dancer in front of him, not making any particular effort to connect with her. Unfortunately, this little stunt had an unexpected side effect; like sharks smelling blood, the dancers saw him so blithely spending money and swarmed him immediately.

“How are you over here all alone, handsome?”

“Is that mean ol’ Stella ignoring you?”

“If you wanted company, you could’ve just asked.”

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, another on his arm, a third even so bold as to stroke up his knee, and he struggled not to show how uncomfortable he was with suddenly being crowded and touched without his consent.

“Ahem. You girls are lookin’ pretty thirsty,” a new voice said, and Alastor looked up to find none other than Angel Dust gazing down at them from the stage. The previous girl was now gathering up her tips to move elsewhere. “Why don’tcha go get a drink? My treat.”

Although the other dancers seemed put off by his interruption, they didn’t argue, one by one taking their hands from Alastor’s body and stalking off toward the bar. “Sorry about that,” Angel Dust added, his eyes sweeping curiously up and down the Radio Demon as he gracefully sank to his knees. “Some gals don’t know how to read between the lines, y’know?”

“And you do?” Alastor didn’t even try to pretend he was looking over every inch of the demon in front of him—but then, that was probably what he wanted.

“Sure. Like I can tell by lookin’ at ya that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just any girl. I get the feelin’ your tastes are a little more…” He licked his fingertips and ran them lightly down the center of his chest with a knowing smirk, posing to display his lengthy figure. “Exotic.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“And what gives you that impression?”

“Well, you were watchin’ me awful close in my first dance,” Angel Dust pointed out, lifting two of his hands in a shrug while the other two moved along the shape of his body. Seeing the mild surprise on Alastor’s face at having been caught staring, he laughed. “Eyes like yours are kinda hard to miss in a dark room. And I’ve gotten pretty good at noticin’ when someone wants me. So what is it you want, baby?” While he awaited an answer, he rested his hands on the stage and leaned forward, showcasing the unusual curves of his chest.

“Now that would be telling,” Alastor teased, fishing another twenty out of his wallet.

“All right, play hard to get if ya want.” The dancer’s two-toned eyes were fixed on the money in his hands. “How about your name? Will ya tell me that?”

“Alastor.” He offered the bill folded between two fingers, but when Angel Dust reached for it, he pulled away. “Say it for me, would you?”

Though he looked surprised by the request, he still obliged, dropping his voice slightly and purring in return, “Alastor.” His voice was nice enough. Something about the sound, in fact, was enough to send a surprising chill through the Radio Demon’s body.

“Once more?” he prompted, his own volume lowering a bit.

Angel Dust leaned closer still, enough that he was on his hands and knees and leaning off the edge of the stage, and moaned breathlessly, “Alastor.” Suppressing another chill, Alastor surrendered the money without further argument, and a pleased smirk curled the dancer’s lips as he took it. “I’m Angel. And hey, if ya like hearin’ it that much, maybe stick around after my shift’s over and we can talk in private.”

“Is that so?” He’s making this entirely too easy. “You may want to be more careful about making offers like that, cher. You’re certain to get more than you bargain for someday.”

“Mm, you promise?” Angel asked mischievously, his eagerness not fading in the slightest as he got to his feet again. “Hey, I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself. I’d be more worried about whether you can keep up with me.”

Well, he’d never been able to resist a challenge. “I suppose we’ll have to find out, then.”

“I suppose we will.” At the sound of some drunken demon from another table obnoxiously demanding Angel’s attention, his smile soured into a pout, and Alastor’s eyes flashed with irritation. Clearly, Angel had done an admirable job of catching his attention; he now couldn’t imagine leaving with anyone else. “If you’re interested, meet me out back at one fifteen.” With a wink in Alastor’s direction, he strolled delicately down the stage to meet the lummox who had called for him, planting his hands on his hips and playfully chastising the other demon for his impatience.

The following two hours were torture, and Alastor enjoyed every anticipatory moment. He remained where he was, absently tipping whichever dancer happened to be in front of him at the moment, but his eyes stayed on Angel as he worked the room. Not once but twice more, Angel was called to center stage for a feature dance of his own, and both times, he stole a glance or two in Alastor’s direction to be sure he was still watching. Which he was. Intently.

The club closed at 1 a.m., and Alastor did as instructed, going around the back of the building to find out exactly what ‘talk in private’ translated to. Unfortunately, it seemed that some other demons had a similar idea, as he found two of them waiting under the light of a yellow halogen bulb when he arrived. Noticing them watching him warily, he gave them a winning smile and a polite nod. “Gentlemen.”

One of them seemed fully ready to ignore him, but the other narrowed his eyes. “You were the one takin’ up all Angel’s time earlier,” he growled. Alastor only then recognized him as the same brute who had stolen Angel’s attention before. Quite a forgettable face, apparently.

“We spoke, yes. Is that a problem?”

“Only if you think you’re takin’ him home.” The other demon took a step closer, drawing his shoulders back, trying to come off as imposing. Still drunk, clearly. “I been savin’ up for weeks to get him to myself, and no bowtie-wearin’ radio talk show host is gonna steal him out from under me.” He grasped a handful of Alastor’s coat, and the Radio Demon’s smile broadened into something menacing.

“My friend, I’m going to allow you five full seconds in which to remove your hands from my person and yourself from my sight before you lose something much more valuable than a single night of good company.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do to make me?”

“Four,” Alastor answered simply. Really, the restraint he showed by offering this grace period was impressive in itself. “Three.”

“Uh, Tino, maybe you should listen to him, man,” the remaining demon said as he noticed the shadows lengthening across the ground, darkness edging into the halo of light around the club’s back door.

“Two.”

“Fuck this.” Tino had apparently gotten fed up with the countdown, but as he drew back a fist and Alastor reached ‘one,’ the light snapped out, just long enough for the shadows to overtake both Tino and his companion. Alastor didn’t bother taking extra time to savor their deaths. They were meaningless, nothing but an obstacle to what was sure to be the most enjoyable night he’d had in years. He crushed them and dropped their bodies into the dumpster against the wall without so much as a hair out of place.

When the light flickered back to life, he had managed to contain himself into a veneer of nonchalance. Consider this an appetizer, he told himself. And indeed he was only that much hungrier for something with more substance.

It was actually closer to 1:30 when Angel finally exited the club, but when he saw Alastor there, he smiled brightly. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, now dressed in a scant mini dress and half-jacket, still showing off his shape nicely. “So let’s talk prices before we go any further.” Alastor listened with vague interest as he explained how much his ‘company’ would cost per hour, which acts would cost extra, etc., and he agreed to all of it. He could afford the cost if necessary, but that wasn’t how he planned for the night to end.

He then led the way to the hotel room he had booked for exactly this purpose, Angel clinging to his arm and making all sorts of suggestive comments, none of which really did much for him. Once they were inside and Alastor locked the door behind them, Angel shed his jacket and set it aside along with his purse. “So where d’ya want me, handsome? Right here against the wall? Bent over the table? Ooh, maybe out on the balcony where anyone could see?” It was difficult to tell how much of this was just teasing and how much was serious.

“Why don’t we start here?” Alastor gestured to the bed, and although Angel pouted over the vanilla selection, he sat down nevertheless. It seemed he was always aware of how to hold his body and how it looked, always keen on keeping his angles as attractive as possible. “Are there any ground rules you’d like to set? Boundaries?”

Angel laughed at that like it was a ridiculous question. “Nah, I’m down for pretty much whatever. Whatever you’re into, baby.”

“Really? No restrictions at all?” Alastor asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This was already going much smoother than usual; how could Angel so easily trust a man he’d only just met?

“Well, like what? Whaddaya have in mind?”

“Like pain,” Alastor answered readily enough. Sliding his fingers through Angel’s hair, he grasped a handful of it and tilted his head back, drawing a gasp from his lips. “Biting. Clawing. Cutting.”

“That’s…fine.” He leaned his head easily into Alastor’s touch, apparently willing, even eager, to be abused without protest. Another inexplicable shiver—of what? interest? excitement?—coursed through the Radio Demon’s body. Still, he managed to keep his voice even.

“What about being bound?”

“Yes, please,” Angel purred. “I told you, whatever you wanna do is okay. Just don’t keep me waitin’ all night.” He leaned closer, lifting his head, eyes locked on Alastor’s lips, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he wanted. So Alastor gave it to him. After all, how often was his prey so agreeable? Why not explore the more unusual aspects of the situation? Their lips met, and already his tongue was forcing its way into Angel’s mouth, tasting lemon and liquor from whatever cocktails he’d had earlier. Gradually, his blunt ferocity faded into something slower and easier, and his dancer-turned-escort treated him to soft whimpers and whines of desire.

“Uh. You…said somethin’ about tyin’ me up?” Angel mumbled, clinging to Alastor’s coat even as they separated. Something about the gesture felt very different from his experience with Tino earlier, so it didn’t bother him. He unknotted his tie and slipped it out of his collar, then knelt behind Angel to tie his wrists at his back. “Sounds like you’re gonna get a little rough. Maybe we should have a safe word?”

“No need,” Alastor answered, determining the best way to bind all four of Angel’s hands at once and making sure they were tied tightly. “If you want me to stop, just say so, and I will.” Or not. It would depend on how the evening went.

“Huh. What a gentleman.” Once Angel’s hands were bound, Alastor got up to shrug out of his coat and rolled his sleeves up, then turned the lights out to leave a single lamp in the far corner as their only illumination. Despite being so tall, Angel turned out to be surprisingly light, so rather than ask him to lie down, Alastor simply lifted him and then pushed him down against the bed on his back while his breath turned heavier with anticipation. He did look nice this way, sprawled and squirming, awaiting whatever Alastor chose to do with his body.

Part of his enjoyment typically came from his victim’s fear—but he supposed there was no need to rush. They would get there in due time. For now, he pressed his lips to Angel’s neck, kisses quickly turning rough and leading to bites that broke skin and drew blood. Angel shuddered and arched and groaned “fuck” under his breath but didn’t try to escape. His hips lifted slightly, so Alastor pressed them down with his own, enjoying the choked cry that fled his guest’s lips. His blood was hot, hotter than most, and delicious, but Alastor made a point of not lapping it all up, preferring to let some stain Angel’s skin and the sheets instead.

“Beautiful,” he purred, and he could’ve sworn an anemic blush painted Angel’s cheeks.

“Y-y’know,” he breathed, “you were kinda scarin’ me a minute ago. Talkin’ about ‘pain’ and all. But if this is the worst you got…” That almost sounded like a challenge. In fact, judging by the playful smirk curving his lips, it absolutely was.

“Careful what you wish for, cher.” Alastor’s hands slid up the sides of Angel’s thighs, underneath the hem of his skirt and up toward his hips, then dug his fingernails in and dragged them down roughly, forcing Angel’s hips closer to his own and coaxing a deep, tortured cry from his throat. Although visual art wasn’t typically Alastor’s genre of choice, he couldn’t help but appreciate the angry, stark red lines against Angel’s pale skin.

“More,” the dancer begged, pleading at Alastor with eyes hazed in lust or pain or distress; it was hard to say which. Regardless, it was compelling. Slipping a hand into his pocket, Alastor produced an ivory-handled switchblade knife, which he opened with the press of a button. This little blade had seen him through countless situations much like (yet far different from) this one, and it was still sharp as ever. Upon seeing it, Angel’s eyes grew wider, but he still didn’t protest, biting his lip and waiting to see what Alastor would do with it.

The Radio Demon was sure to take his time about this, first running the cool metal along the still-hot welts on Angel’s thigh to make him shiver. He then traced the edge very gently up Angel’s arm, but even this soft pressure was enough to break skin, leaving a thin, thin red line in its wake. The dancer took in a shuddering breath but tried his best to keep still, watching as Alastor ran his tongue along the wound, then sat up to kiss him again. Despite tasting his own blood, he participated as actively as before, even teasing a soft hum of pleasure from Alastor’s lips as well. He couldn’t help himself; everything about this moment was so strangely familiar yet new, so expected but not, and he found his feelings about it weren’t all the same as usual.

When the kiss ended, he slowly, lazily cut an X into Angel’s right shoulder, enjoying the way he shivered from the sensation. “It hurts,” the dancer whispered, so soft as to be almost inaudible. Still, his tone was unmistakable.

“And you like that?”

Again, he flushed slightly, and it wasn’t until Alastor held his chin and forced him to look up that he answered. “Yeah,” he confessed, his gaze shifting between the Radio Demon’s eyes and his lips. “Are you…actually gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna hurt me all night?”

Alastor recoiled slightly. At no point during all this had he seriously considered going through with anything sexual. He was there to satisfy a craving, certainly, but not that sort. This was a game, a farce, nothing but a way of extending his devious enjoyment of his victim’s pain. So what was it in him that wanted to say yes, to pin Angel down against the bed and make him scream in a different way?

“Didn’t you say there were no rules?” he prompted, trying to brush those thoughts away and focus.

“Sure. It’s just…now I’m all worked up.” Looking up to meet his eyes, Angel admitted softly, “So I want it.”

Every moment this went on, every moment that Alastor enjoyed the pain he was inflicting and the moans that came with it—knowing the pleasure was mutual and that Angel wanted it too—served to further cloud his mind about exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable. It wasn’t supposed to be something his victim wanted more of. And worse yet, he wasn’t supposed to like fulfilling their wishes. It was meant to be him taking satisfaction in the suffering of another. Something about this night had thoroughly thrown off that formula.

Trying to move past it and away from all those confusing should-be’s, he sat up slightly and dragged the knife to the juncture of Angel’s neck and shoulder instead, cutting in slightly and watching the dancer—no, his victim—flinch. “H-hey, not there,” Angel finally protested, trying to move away but more or less trapped against the bed by Alastor’s body. “Anywhere below there’s okay, but—”

“Oh, but I thought you liked this, cher,” Alastor insisted, trying to find his way back to the cold and detached tormentor he typically embodied in these moments. His blade moved higher still, closer to Angel’s throat, and he relished the more panicked squirming of his prey’s body.

“I’m serious.” Angel’s voice quavered with nervous fear as he tried to draw away. “Alastor. Stop it.”

“What, does this cost extra?” the Radio Demon chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay whatever you like.” The tip of his knife came to rest just under Angel’s chin, where his pulse was visibly pounding, and he stretched his head as far away as possible. This would be the easiest solution to the confusion that had come with this night. Just end it quickly. Cut right here, only an inch or two, and watch his life spill onto the sheets. No more questions. No more doubt. Just enjoy it for what it is and then on to the next.

“Look, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s working. I get it, okay? You win. Just stop.” The discomfort in his voice was frustrating, in a way. He’d been responding so positively all night, yet now was the moment he faltered? It was much easier to believe that Angel was doing something wrong than that Alastor’s change in behavior had frightened him. As Alastor pressed down on the knife, ready and willing to put all this behind him, Angel snarled and coiled up his legs. “I said, get off!”

His feet planted against Alastor’s chest and kicked, hard, much harder than expected, forcing the Radio Demon to stumble backward off the bed. When he managed to right himself, he realized Angel Dust had sprouted a third set of arms and was trying to use them to unbind his others. There was fear visible in his eyes, but more than that, there was anger. Good. He was indignant, willing to fight. Good. It began with a dance. It should end with a dance.

“Who’s the one playing hard to get now, cher?” Alastor asked with a wicked grin, pouncing on the bed to pin his playmate down again. This part, he could do without thinking, by reflex, which made it much simpler. As he tried to plunge his knife into Angel’s chest, however, the dancer twisted away at the last moment and the blade was buried in the mattress instead.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel hissed, still struggling to free his arms.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been enjoying my attention, chéri. Now hold still so I can give you more.” Grabbing up his knife again, he started to attack—but Angel was ready this time and delivered a surprisingly solid kick to his jaw. Apparently, those boots were more functional than they looked. Even as Angel finally got his hands free, Alastor managed to recover and force him down on his back again.

Then something unexpected happened. After a moment of futile struggling and realizing he wasn’t strong enough to break free, Angel met Alastor’s eyes for the briefest moment, then sat up and kissed him again. This reaction came by reflex as well, and he found himself delving deeper into the kiss, as close to ‘turned on’ as he’d ever been before. Angel shoved at his shoulders, rolling them over as one so he was kneeling over Alastor’s hips.

Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible turn to take, Alastor supposed as his hands slid up the dancer’s thighs again. Maybe he could be satisfied with a different form of pleasure, as long as Angel was willing to—

He broke off the kiss with a gasp at the feeling of cold metal against his throat. Angel remained close, still panting against his lips, but his eyes had turned cold. He had apparently retrieved the weapon Alastor had absentmindedly discarded while they kissed, and he now held it firmly to the Radio Demon’s neck.

“Get your hands off me,” he growled softly, and Alastor obeyed without a word.

Somehow, he found himself at a loss. Maybe he was disappointed in himself for being distracted so easily. Maybe he was subdued by the warmth of Angel’s body or the sight of him—still bleeding, flushed, panting hard—or the knife held to his jugular. Whatever the reason, the fight had left him altogether and he was now just a bit bemused.

“Now fuckin’ stay there,” Angel ordered. He shoved away to get to his feet, keeping his eyes on Alastor and a tight grip on the knife. While the Radio Demon watched, he stepped back toward the table where Alastor’s coat had been discarded, then rooted through it for a moment to find (of course) his wallet. It was almost disappointing to see him back away to retrieve his own jacket and purse, then head for the door.

Was that it? All this excitement, then he just took his payment and left? Was this how most sex workers felt about their own encounters? And why didn’t Alastor make more of an effort to stop him? Was he an Overlord or wasn’t he? If he’d tried, he could have easily overpowered the slender Angel Dust, regardless of whether he had two hands or ten. Yet there he lay, on his back, on the bed, watching his would-be victim shrug his jacket back on and walk to the door.

“Guess you couldn’t keep up after all,” Angel sighed, standing in the doorway and combing mussed hair out of his eyes with his free hand. “Too bad; I was havin’ fun there for a minute. See ya around, Al.” With this, he flung the knife expertly across the room to stick into the mattress between Alastor’s legs. Was it a trick of the light, or was he actually smirking as he left the room and pulled the door shut behind him?

Alastor let his head drop back against the bed. Well. That certainly was an experience. It was the first time in his long and colorful career that any victim had successfully escaped him. There were those who fought, perhaps, but none who had ever won. Yet Angel had caught onto…whatever it was that made this night different from all the others, well and truly ruining Alastor’s chances of regaining control.

He could try again, tonight or some other night. But now, he found, he no longer wanted Angel dead. He still wanted something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what. No, Angel had said the word himself. More. Whatever bizarre tango they had just performed, Alastor needed an encore. Next time, he told himself, he would be better prepared. And he had no doubt that Angel would find a way to throw off his rhythm nevertheless.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,327

Chapter 24: Moving On

“Back then I thought this was a big place. But my ambition grew too big.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

There were things in this life that some people just did not deserve. There were some things in life that they did. Everyone deserved love, life, and the pursuit of happiness. Everyone didn't deserve to be treated like the slop of swine and kicked to the curb like yesterday's garbage. People deserved to be treated the way that they want to be treated. They didn't deserve to have their most cherished possessions taken from them. Everyone was allowed to have at least one miracle in their life. No one deserved to have said miracle denied them.

Namjoon sighed, thinking back on all the things that the Golden Jackals suffered through, as well as accomplished. It was nothing to spit at, that was for sure. A lot was done in a seemingly short amount of time. They were finally getting to a head with all their hard work. Sacrifices had been made, bounties were gained, and dreams were soon to be obtained.

Finally, it was all going to come to a fruitful end.

The quietude of the office brought solace to Namjoon’s heart. Nothing pleased him more than to be surrounded by books, especially those telling bold tales of far off worlds – places he could only dream about. It was a shame, really, what limitations the human mind was succumbing to, as well as what lengths society was willing to go in order to snuff out the beauty of something so mystifying as magic, science fiction; as any form of literary art, really.

Beside him were four thick textbooks concerning various histories in several different eras of socioeconomic growth from many regions, not just Korea. In fact, he’d managed to secure one book regarding the Military-Industrial Complex of America. While he had no interest in being a lobbyist or securing funds through militant means, Namjoon knew there was probably a way to formulate a plan in the corporate aspect to help further their goals. As well as foresee any pitfalls that were sure to crop up at any point during their transition into legality.

History of any kind, real and fantasy alike, were realms in which Namjoon liked to dabble and explore of his own volition. Nothing brought him more pleasure than studying the past, because studying the past meant correcting current mistakes, as well as preventing future ones from occurring altogether.

Because predictably, history had a way of repeating itself. Namjoon wasn’t about to let that happen anytime soon.

Namjoon set his pen down with a satisfied smirk, pleased with the stack of completed paperwork he’d just fought his way through. The end of their arduous road was fast approaching. Tensions were high for the last few days, but it was necessary. Things needed to be put into perspective and while it hurt to have it thrown in their faces in such a way, he knew that Jungkook was right. They all did. They hadn’t thought that far ahead in advance, so focused on the finish line and not the aftermath that would ensue had they not properly gotten things lined up like they needed to.

His phone buzzed and rang with life beside him, causing him to jump slightly. He saw it was Seokjin and answered.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Namjoon-ah?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on my way back now.”

“See you downstairs. The others just got back home.”

Namjoon hung up the phone and gathered up all his notebooks and folders, exiting his room and making his way downstairs. He’d barely made it to the main floor of their house when he saw Jungkook appearing from the basement area. He saw him drying his wet hair with a towel, presumably finishing his workout and showered. When he remembered how Jungkook looked after Yoongi brought him home a few days ago, it was clear that Jungkook would always be the type to bounce back from any injury like it was nothing.

From shaky legs to solid jabs. The recovery level of that boy was astonishing.

“Hyung?”

Namjoon blinked, looking at Jungkook as he stared at him with a slightly perplexed look on his face. “Huh?”

“Is everything alright?” Jungkook draped the towel across his neck. “You look like you want to tell me something.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing.” He reached his hand out to clap Jungkook on the shoulder. “You’ve really become a man these last few years, Jungkook-ah.”

The younger man blinked, then shyly scratched at the side of his nose. “…Hyung, cut it out.”

Namjoon wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder just as the others started filing into the main living room. There was a platter of fruit set out in the middle of the table and Jimin was getting ready to uncork a bottle of champagne. Taehyung was about to tell him to be careful just as he popped the cork, Seokjin already grabbing a champagne flute to catch whatever alcohol managed to spill from the mouth of the bottle.

Seokjin handed everyone glasses and they all waited until Hoseok held his hand up to present a toast.

“We’ve finally done it, my brothers,” he said, giving a wistful smile, “it took us a long time to get here, but we’ve made it.” Hoseok shifted his gaze to Jungkook, his brows furrowing slightly. “Forgive your Hyung, Jungkook-ah, for neglecting those who were willing to sacrifice everything for our dreams. They have dreams too and I shouldn’t have forgotten about that.”

Jungkook bit his lower lip, averting his gaze from Hoseok as his arm holding the glass lowered slightly.

Hoseok looked at Namjoon. “Did you get it all squared away?”

He nodded, holding up the notebooks and folders in one hand so that everyone could see. “I made sure that every single one of our Jackals will have job security in our new businesses, and those that want to simply take their earnings and return home to their families can do so. If any of them want to start their own business ventures, I made sure that they could get in contact with us for any assistance.”

Namjoon saw Jungkook lift his head up, looking between Hoseok and then himself, until finally his eyes settled on Hoseok. “H-Hoseok Hyung…”

“We’ve made it. It’s time we shared the wealth.” He raised his glass and everyone else followed suit. “To leaving the dirty and dark road behind!”

They all clinked their glasses, smiles on their faces. It was the first time in years they could all smile in relief. A heavy weight was thrown off their shoulders – a proverbial mountain they’d been lugging around all this time.

Three Months Later Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

There was a throng of reporters and curious pedestrians that gathered around in front of the large building in Yongsan’s central district. Flashbulbs exploded from cameras, several corporate board members standing on the other side of a large red ribbon made of silk. Namjoon and Seokjin stood on either side of Hoseok as he held a large pair of scissors in his hands. Everyone held their breaths in excitement, waiting for the moment when the shears would cut through the delicate fabric.

And then Hoseok’s arms moved, the snip sound almost lost in the seemingly endless chorus of shutters from cameras as they continued snapping photos.

It was a way to usher in the New Year.

That was what Seokjin suggested, pushing back the unveiling of their greatest achievement. Golden Star Tower Hotel was their crowning success and it deserved every single aspect of respect regarding its perfection. Namjoon hesitated at first, not sure whether it was a good idea to push the unveiling back. In the end, Seokjin’s eye for reading the market never failed them. Waiting until the holiday aftermath trickled down was smart. While everyone focused on families, festivals, and all the holiday push and pull, the focus on their hotel would have been lost.

Everyone cheered, the press rushing in to ask Hoseok questions, to which he readily answered. He’d been grooming himself for this for years now and all their preparation was starting to bear fruit.

The rumble of the Underworld was but a soft vibration under their feet. They no longer had to concern themselves with keeping their ears to the ground. The Golden Jackals were no more. What the criminal society decided to do with that information no longer concerned them. It was a fight they would no longer be a part of.

Nevertheless, Namjoon kept a keen ear out in case trouble decided to stir in the wake of their absence. Trouble that would, in a sense, try to drag them back into the darkness. He wouldn’t hear of it. Not when they were finally starting to feel the sun on their faces.

There was talk, of course, and repercussions for their actions. It came with the territory. Tabloids spread rumors that their money was dirty, and they were attempting to erase their dark pasts. Hoseok answered these accusations with the professionalism and charisma of a foreign dignitary. He didn’t hesitate with his responses and this threw the press for a loop. Within a few short weeks, the negative articles that were written about Hoseok and his gang of Golden Jackals were a thing of the past.

Every step that was taken was a step they were prepared to take. More than prepared.

Namjoon and Yoongi would help Hoseok with the hotel management – both regarding foreign and domestic visitors, as well as financial structuring. Seokjin handled the Golden Star investment firm with Jimin. Gaining Anastasia as a financial advisor had been paramount in tying up loose ends – finalizing their last few steps into legality and away from the criminal underworld. Seokjin sang her praises, as was customary with someone whose skills he valued. There were whispers that he and Anastasia were getting a little too close, according to Jimin, but it wasn’t something that anyone in the group really needed to worry about. Both Seokjin and Anastasia were professionals and kept their personal lives as far away from their business personas as much as possible.

Taehyung and Jungkook handled things regarding the entertainment aspect of things. While they sold a good portion of their nightclubs, the Golden Star label, while small, would focus on up and coming artists who thrived in the Indie Underground. With technology advancing as rapidly as it was, it was no secret that there were young and talented artists all over the country. And not just in music, but in theatre and art as well. Some were starving artists, wanting to hone their skills at the sacrifice of having to live on the streets.

Jungkook was particularly empathetic toward these cases, personally reaching out to help them achieve their dreams – one step at a time.

As they led the press inside to give everyone a grand tour of the hotel, Namjoon felt his phone buzz with life. He pulled out his cell and spied on the screen. It was Yoongi relaying a message that things were quiet at the investment firm. They’d left things in his hands since Seokjin’s presence was required at the grand opening of the hotel. He shot him a quick text back, saying they were going to be wrapping things up soon.

“Is Yoongi bored?” Seokjin asked, sidling up next to Namjoon and bumping his shoulder slightly.

Namjoon looked at him, eyes wide, before he craned his neck in varying directions to ascertain where Hoseok was. He took a breath when he saw that he was being surrounded by reporters as he showed them the many different check-in kiosks – built to help with the reservation process. They both watched Hoseok smiling and explaining things to the letter, not missing a single beat when more and more questions were tossed into his lap.

Seokjin nudged him again, causing him to stumble to the side slightly. “Well?”

He laughed, bumping his shoulder against his as well. “He’s fine. Probably just worried.”

“Should I go back and relieve him?” Seokjin grinned, shrugging. “It’s not like these people actually care about us. Hoseok is the star of this show, it seems.”

“Looks like it,” replied Namjoon, shrugging one shoulder as well, “if you want to head back, you can. I can handle things from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Namjoon grinned, narrowing his eyes playfully at Seokjin. “Besides, I know you’re wondering what a certain financial advisor is getting into.”

Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start.” He looked at his watch. “We’re all still meeting up later, right?” His gaze lifted back up to meet Namjoon’s. “For the party?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I believe so. Taehyung and Jungkook should be finishing up their business by then.”

“Good.”

They both turned to see Hoseok was moving a little bit further into the large, main lobby of the hotel. He met their gaze, smirking at them, before returning to answer more questions that others were giving him. Namjoon shook his head while shoving his hands into his pockets. Seokjin patted Namjoon’s chest, brushing past him to exit the hotel.

Just as he was about to return to Hoseok’s side, his phone buzzed once more. Turning over the cell in his hand, he saw the message was from Shownu. His eyes narrowed, craning his neck to see if the sender was in the hotel. When he saw that he wasn’t, Namjoon’s gaze returned to the phone to read the actual message this time.

Shownu: Congratulations, Namjoon-ah. Don’t let the sunlight blind you.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, not bothering to reply. There was nothing for Namjoon to say. No. They weren’t part of that world anymore. What the Jade Fangs did now no longer concerned them. They wouldn’t go back. No, they couldn’t go back.

After clawing their way out, there was no way they were going to let themselves get dragged back down to hell.

[kaialone]

Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: Battle Atop the Demon Train

This will be a comparison of the original Japanese version and the US English localized version.

Specifically, this will cover the cutscenes before and after the battle with Malladus and Cole on top of the Demon Train.

You can also watch these cutscenes for yourself in English and Japanese. If you want, you can check out the EU English version, too.

For the comparison, the usual points apply:

Bolded is the original Japanese text, for the reference.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

Italicized is the official NOA translation.

A (number) indicates that I have a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

As you read this, please keep in mind that with translations like these, it’s important not to focus on the exact literal wordings, since there is no single “correct answer” when it comes to translations.

Rather than that, consider the actual information that is being conveyed, in which way, and why.

--

Characters in this part who had their names changed between versions:

Kimaroki = Cole, Mallador = Malladus

--

Before the Battle:

Zelda:

ここまでです キマロキ！ もう あなたの好きには させません！

This is as far as you go, Kimaroki! We will no longer let you do as you please!

You've gone far enough, Cole. This is where it ends.

Cole:

…言いましたよね？

私 あなた方に 言ったはずですよね？

魔王様の完全復活を 震えて 待っていなさいって…

それなのに わざわざ自分から 乗り込んでくるだなんて…

...I told you, did I not?

I most certainly did tell you, no?

I kindly asked you to tremble in fear as you wait for His Majesty's complete resurrection...

And in spite of that, you have the gall to force your way up here...  (1)

You again...

The Demon King's return is nigh, you know.

Yet, here you are, making a nuisance of yourselves!

Cole:

最近のガキは言いつけも満足に 守れねーのか？ あぁ！？

You brat can't even properly do as you're told anymore these days, huh?!

You insolent little fools!

Cole:

上等だ ガキ共！ てめえらに きっついオシオキをくれてやらぁ！

Well, bring it on, brats! You pests got a hefty dose of punishment coming your way!

It's time you received the punishment you deserve!

Cole:

さあ  魔王様 融合は もう完全です！！

Now, Your Majesty, the amalgamation has been completed!!

Your Majesty! Your resurrection is complete!

Cole:

……やっちゃってください！！

...Smash them, if you would!!

Please use your power to destroy these two!

Zelda:

…行きますよ！ リンク！！

...Here we go, Link!!

This is it, Link!

-

During the Battle:

Boss Title:

魔王マラドー

Demon King Mallador

Malladus

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Zelda, when rats appear:

リンク！ 助けて！

Link! Help!

Help, Link!

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Zelda, when rats are defeated:

ありがとう！ リンク！

Thank you, Link!

Thank you for saving me!

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Zelda, when taken over:

リンク… 逃げて…

Link... Run...

You have to get away, Link!

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Zelda, when restraining Malladus:

今です！ 光の弓矢で 貫いて！

Now! Pierce him with the Bow of Light!

Shoot Malladus with the Bow of Light now!

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After the Battle:

Cole:

ま 魔王さま…

Y-Your Majesty...

Your Majesty...

Zelda:

に 逃がしません！ マラドー！

I... I am not letting you get away, Mallador!

You won't escape this time, Malladus!

Malladus:

ハナセッ! ハナセェッ！！

LET GO! LET GO OF ME!!  (2)

RELEASE ME!

Zelda:

リンク！ き 危険です！

Link! I-it is not safe here!

Link! Be careful!

Zelda:

わたしに構わずマラドーから 離れてください！

Please, do not mind me, just get away from Mallador!

Don't worry about me! Just get away from Malladus!

Translation Notes:

The phrase I adapted as “force your way up here” is 乗り込む/norikomu in Japanese, which can also mean “get on” or “board”, as in boarding a train. However, it can also refer to breaking in, or climbing on someplace by force. In this context, arguably both meanings could work.

In Japanese, Malladus uses no ひらがな/hiragana characters when speaking, only カタカナ/katakana and 漢字/kanji. This is a visual indicator that’s sometimes used for a character who speaks in a strange way, like for example sounding robotic, in-human, or even having a heavy accent. In Malladus’ case, it’s likely meant to invoke a very loud, booming voice.

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Comparisons & Thoughts:

Since both of these cutscenes are especially short, I included the text from during the battle as well.

Like with his previous appearances, the biggest differences here come from the changes made to Cole’s character, so discussing those will make up the bulk of this section.

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As we’ve seen in previous scenes, a big alteration to Cole’s character in the English localization is the fact that his habit of abruptly switching between talking formally and informally has been removed.

So of course, we get more examples of that here.

In the Japanese version, when Cole begins to talk in the pre-battle cutscene, he first starts with a slow build-up, speaking in a passive-aggressive, but still quite formal manner.

There is some rising tension here, as Cole goes on almost a bit too long for comfort, about something that obviously should make him angry, while still keeping up that faux-polite speaking style.

Then, he turns around suddenly, now clearly yelling, having switched to his crude and informal style again, adding some impact to this moment.

In the English version, there is much less of a contrast or change in the way Cole talks, as always.

The set-up of the scene itself, its movement and audio, still get some of the intended effect across. But from the perspective of the dialogue, it’s weaker.

They even shortened the build-up to the moment Cole snaps, lessening the tension.

It’s another example where the Japanese version uses Cole’s outbursts for dramatic effect, which in turn doesn’t quite have the same energy in the English version.

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Continuing from the last point, there also things worth mentioning regarding the actual content of what Cole says here:

…I told you, did I not?

I most certainly did tell you, no?

I kindly asked you to tremble in fear as you wait for His Majesty’s complete resurrection…

And in spite of that, you have the gall to force your way up here…

You again…

The Demon King’s return is nigh, you know.

Yet, here you are, making a nuisance of yourselves!

In the Japanese version, Cole is specifically calling back to what he told our heroes at the end of their previous encounter: “Now please tremble in fear as you wait for that moment!!”

Meaning that Cole’s anger here is not just due to Zelda and Link getting in their way again, but also because his order was defied on purpose.

The English version has no such callback, even though they did adapt Cole’s line from back then fairly accurately as: “I would suggest you tremble in fear!”

I’m not sure if this connection just went unnoticed, or if it was omitted intentionally.

In any case, I think it’s a missed opportunity, since acting petty over this adds to Cole’s character, makes the individual cutscenes feel more connected, and they did have a good set-up for it in their version, too.

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Next is the line Cole says right after.

It’s short, but I think the differences are kind of important:

You brat can’t even properly do as you’re told anymore these days, huh?!

You insolent little fools!

First of all, in Japanese, this line continues to show how Cole really is genuinely pissed off about the fact that his order was defied, as ridiculous as that is.

But it also goes a bit more personal.

Here, Cole again refers to Zelda as ガキ/gaki or “brat”, which he also called her when he revealed his true nature. And while singular/plural is usually ambiguous in Japanese, the context here makes it a lot more likely he is addressing Zelda specifically with this line.

Adding to that, we also see Cole express frustration at the fact that Zelda has stopped listening to him. And that’s a nice detail, serving as a reminder of the history between these two characters.

For years, Zelda grew up with Cole acting as an overly controlling, malicious authority figure, who was only raising her to use as a sacrifice one day, and thus tried his hardest to stomp every last bit of confidence and agency out of her.

And from what we can gather, she did act obedient to him for the longest time, until the recent events moved her into action.

So now Cole is not just facing some child that is about to throw a wrench in his plan, he is facing a child that he himself raised to never defy him like that, who has broken out of his control in a way he never thought she would be capable of.

By comparison, the English version feels a bit more generic, not really alluding to the personal history between Zelda and Cole as strongly.

It comes off more as your standard annoyance with meddling kids.

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When Cole calls out to Malladus, in the Japanese version he says that the “amalgamation” is complete, rather than just the “resurrection” like in the English version.

This is referring to something that has come up occasionally, namely that Malladus basically has to completely “coalesce”, i.e. merge with Zelda’s body in order to make full use of it.

I’m assuming the English version changed this line to make it a bit simpler. The fact that Malladus is now fully accustomed to Zelda’s body is already evident from the context, so the exact details aren’t needed.

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Another small detail about this line from Cole:

…Smash them, if you would!!

Please use your power to destroy these two!

As usual, the English version has Cole be more consistently fancy when he talks, but there is something funny about his line in Japanese here.

In this line, Cole mixes his different speaking styles in a kind of amusing manner.

He starts it off with the informal, almost childish やっちゃって/yachatte, but then ends it with the proper and polite ください/kudasai.

To me, it gives off the vibe that he is very giddy at the prospect of destroying these kids, but still manages to keep enough self-control to not accidentally insult Malladus by using an improper ending for a formal request.

Either way, it’s a fun little moment that plays with his odd speaking habits.

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When the battle begins, the English version has the boss title simply read “Malladus”, rather than displaying his full title like the Japanese version does.

They did the same thing with Byrne’s battle earlier, so I already talked a bit about this.

Just like in that instance, I don’t know if I would consider Malladus a character who warrants having such a reference to the Ocarina of Time battle with Ganon.

I think Malladus’ battle here is probably a better choice than Byrne’s battle, but I still don’t feel that comparing him with Ocarina of Time’s Ganon like that works.

And even if it did, doing this reference twice in the same game makes it lose its impact.

If they really wanted to do this, they should have picked one of the two battles, rather than doing it for both.

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Finally, Malladus gets to speak his first real words at the end of this battle.

In the translation notes I explained the unusual way his dialogue is written in Japanese.

As I mentioned there, I think in his case it’s likely supposed to show his voice feeling unnaturally loud and booming, like something you would expect from a powerful demonic being.

The English version seemingly adapts this here by writing his dialogue in all caps, which I think works well enough.

However, they’re not consistent about this, since they drop it the next time Malladus speaks.

As a result, Malladus’ English line here just seems like he’s simply yelling in hindsight, not like there is something inherently different about the way he sounds.

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All in all, the localization in these cutscenes is another mixed bag for me, but different from the last part.

I think pretty much all of Zelda’s dialogue in this one was localized perfectly. The problem is that she only makes up about 30-40% of it.

Cole takes up the majority of the dialogue here, and while I normally think the English version’s take on him works well at being itself, in this scene it’s just not as good as the original.

In this part, we aren’t just dealing with his basic characterization being changed as usual, he also doesn’t have a comparable amount of energy in the English version.

Since this is the final direct confrontation with him, acting as somewhat of a climax to his dynamic with Zelda, it’s a bit of a disheartening note to end on from a localization perspective.

The English version’s take on Cole has his own style of splendor, and it would have been nice to see it utilized better in these cutscenes here.

But that’s the end of this part. Feel free to check out the next one!

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< Previous Part | Start | Next Part >

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[summoner-kentauris]

The United Fódlan-Magvel Post-Time Skip Map, Type 1

Previous Post | Next Post 

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FIGURE ONE

Figure One is simple enough, it’s just the important places in Fódlan with names on it.

FIGURE TWO

This is where it gets juicy. We’re going to go through each of these places more or less individually, so this is going to be a long post, be forewarned. Now, all of these are located roughly where they ought to be in relation to one another. Which means, in many cases there isn’t much choice behind the decision. Still, there was at least a little bit!

[Keep Reading Link Below]

North Magvel

The Black Temple

The Black Temple was placed directly on top of the ruins of Garreg Mach Monastery, as detailed in Post One. This is the site of the Holy Mausoleum, and makes a perfect one-to-one translation to the place where the Demon King Fomortiss’ body will be sealed. Likewise, Garreg Mach is located right next to the Sealed Forest, the one place in Fódlan known for, well... sealing and darkness. From the Sealed Forest will come Darkling Woods. This leads us nicely to...

Caer Pelyn

As some of you may yet be tired of hearing from me, Morva makes a wonderful Seteth. Caer Pelyn has to be near the Black Temple anyway, but there’s something terrifically poetically sad about the last Nabateans hovering around whats left of Garreg Mach.

Neleras Peak

Let’s go ahead and say that whatever disaster laid waste to Faerghus and the Alliance, it involved the javelins of light. One was sent to Garreg Mach, but, as we know, it is protected. Instead, Neleras was detonated, and left in a state of lava-y Ailell hell.

This, again, is is the only site whose location will be completely disregarded. I feel like putting it here again so you don’t have to click all around: in the lore, Mt. Neleras is supposed to be within the Darkling Woods. The Darkling Woods is centered around Caer Pelyn and the Black Temple. Now, the way I see it, you could have that forest cover all that land and still reach across the continent across two countries to where Mt. Neleras is supposed to be. You could also not do that very unpleasant thing. Just- just move it. It’s easy. Look, I’ve done it myself right here.

Melkaen Coast

It’s a coast. It’s located on a coast. Nothing special going on here.

Hamill Canyon

We’ve moved this quite a far bit. For one, a large offshoot of mountain range is no longer here in places. For two, remember that chasm Byleth fell into? Yeah, me too.

.

Midwest Magvel

Renais

Renais grew from what was left of Remire Village. Much like on the original map, it is protected on the east by mountains, which also render Caer Pelyn inaccessible from Renais.

Za’ha Woods

Now, if I were to remake this map, I’d stick the Za’ha Woods in the Sealed Forest, because Zahras is too linguistically close for me to not want to line them up.

Borgo Ridge

There is actually a small ridge on the Fódlan map right in the vicinity of where Borgo RIdge needs to go. So that was a no-brainer.

Teraz Plateau

It’s a plateau. Near vaguely altitude-y places. Not much else to say here.

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West Magvel

Frelia

Frelia is located within range of the Brionac Plateau. You have no idea of deeply desperately I wanted to put it ON the Brionac Plateau. A pegasus-culture located on a giant fantasy plateau? SIgn me the fuck up. Anyway, Frelia is SUPPOSED to be on the coast, though. So, on the coast it goes. Why are there so many plateaus on this map anyhow?

Fort Rigwald

This isn’t located near anything important on the Fódlan map. The Magvel country borders are quite different, so it makes sense that new forts would have to be constructed. I’m still sad about it, though.

Border Mulan

On the Fódlan map, this location is listed as the Western Church. We will assume for this map that whatever they built was strong, and exists in some for or another in Magvel time. At any rate, this location is now Border Mulan.

Ide

North of Borgo Ridge. End of statement.

The Tower Of Valini

This is located on Lake Teutates. There already is the ruins of a tower there already so. Why the fuck not?

(Answer: because Lake Teutates sucks and I wish I could wipe it off the map with my bare hands. Indech do not interact.)

Visual aid for those of you who haven’t been forced to look at Lake Teutates for fifty thousand years and also never used the zoom in mode:

Some other interesting information about Valni/Teutates here:

Valni is Russian for waves (волны). Interestingly enough, the singular form волна is the name of a specific submarine launched ballistic missile.

The Tower of Valni is, of course, notable for having those terrifically obnoxious light beam weapons. Three House is, of course, notable for dropping actual fucking missiles on you. Missiles called javelins of light.

I’m bolding all of that because I’m very excited about it.

Port Kiris

Port Kiris is located in Magvel near the coast of the Northern Sea. I made a minor error in this map, and didn’t place Kiris far enough west. Anyway, in this map Kiris is also located at the end of a river that connects it both to Border Mulan and Frelia, which gives this town more trade power. It is a sea port and also, a river port. Hurray!

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The Bay

Serafew

Serafew could be in a range of places. We’ve placed it in the central north of the bay. It is fed by a whole lot of rivers, which would help maintain the city from a logistics point of view. I’m guessing they have a lot of fertile land from the Adlas Plains, as well.

Adlas Plains

Adlas remains at the north mouth of the bay. There is a notable lack of Adlas’s forests in Fódlan’s map; on the other hand, there aren’t really any forests displayed on the map.

Bethroen

Bethroen’s path on the Sacred Stone’s map curves oddly; here, that is replicated and also reinforced by the mountains that back Bethroen. Presumably, here the path is curved because it is a path through the mountains.

.

South Magvel

Renvall

I really wanted to put Renvall on the ruins/same place as Fort Merceus. Renvall is also located, though, at the base of a river. There is one of those slightly to the left of Merceus. Plus, as we’ll get to in a second, Grado has a pretty set location. All of that means Renvall can’t really go on Merceus. It’s honestly the most reasonable choice, given what happens to Merceus in some of the routes.

At any rate, this is generally where Renvall goes. South east of Adlas, north of the Empire. Both Grado and Adrestian.

Taizel

Taizel is probably the one I’m least happy with. That area on both to Fódlan and Magvel map is occupied. However, in Magvel, that spot is just some town, whereas in Fódlan, its the whole capital of the empire. 800 years is a long time, but to completely wipe the importance of such a well established city? I just don’t know.

Either way, the location lines up wonderfully. As an additional note, both Enbarr and Taizel have rivers to the east of them, and this is continued here.

Za’abul Marsh

It’s a marsh. It goes both near a river, and directly between Taizel and Grado. Not much interesting happening here as far as all that goes. Fódlan provides that excellent river mentioned above.

Grado

Ah, the big one of the region. Grado is near the peninsula. It’s not directly below Renval, or Jehanna Hall, but rests somewhat inbetween the two as far as longitude goes. This area on the Fódlan map has something called the Morgaine Ravine. Now, I’ve finally finished all four routes and as far as I can tell, this fucker has come up exactly zero times. Still, it’s a place notable enough to get a name on the map, and more than that, it’s got earth-splitting connotations with that ravine name. Sounds like a perfect place to stick Grado’s capital if you ask me.

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East Magvel

Jehanna Hall

I am so tired. Okay. Three left. So, Jehanna. I don’t know about you, but when I see a gigantic tasty fields-and-plains region, I think, what if desertification? Anyway the point is, Gronder et al. can’t stay delicious and green forever. Especially with everyone and their brother dedicated to fighting on it, or burning it down, or stepping all over it, etc. On this map, this area becomes the desert that Jehanna Hall sits itself right down in.

Now, if only I could figure out who Metis is...

Narube River

Now, strictly speaking, the Narube is located to the east of Jehanna Hall. Why be strict, though, when the Airmid is right there. I mean, its right. there.

Rausten Court

“Hey, wait!” you cry. “Where the hell did Neleras go?”

“Now hang on,” I say. “I feel like I ranted about this. I mean though I can definitely go again, here let me just get my-”

Okay, now Rausten Court

Rausten lies across the River, to the east of Darkling, and occupies its own space away from everything else, really. Of note here is that it’s right behind the Great Bridge. I think that’s pretty neat.

Lagdou Ruins

FINALLY! I‘VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE.

Shambhala. End statement.

Alright, not actually the end of statements. But let me just say: Shambhala got hit by missiles, not destroyed. If people can make it out of there, bits of that place are still intact. And that’s setting aside the fact that, if you look in the zoom in map, that place is a hell of a lot bigger than just the field of combat. Anyway. All that I’m saying: Shambhala real.

AND, lest we forget. The ninth floor of Lagdou is in fact lava-burn-y. Which could jsut mean lava... or the predictable and regularly desribed aftermath of the lances of light that Shambhala gets hit with in canon.

Anyway. All that I’m saying: Shambhala real.

Because of this, Lagdou has experienced a bit of a shift. It is still located next to all the proper geographical feature, it is just that the removal of Neleras means that part of the continent is a bit stretched.

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Aaannnd that’s the end of this post! Stay tuned for the next post, which is just the nice final fancy map.

[fuanteinasekai]

Okay, so!  I am super busy right now, but this thing has been 90% done for ages, so I’ll go ahead and finish it now.

I mentioned in one of my metas that there’s a really big (non-spoilery) set of parallels several years ago. These parallels exist between Kitamoto’s flashback special in Volume 13, and Touko-san’s flashback special in Volume 15.

Please note that technically Touko-san’s story was published after Kitamoto’s, but chronologically, in story time, it’s earlier. Since it’s talking about emotional development, it makes more sense for me to talk about it in story time, rather than publishing time. So understand “before” and “after” in this context.

The top is a two-page spread from Touko-san’s story. The bottom is from Kitamoto’s.

I’ve selected the most relevant part of the text for transcription and translation, and bolded the parts that are most similar:

Touko

ーまるでからっぽのような　心がここにないような　ひどく遠くを見るような目を貴志くんは時々する

その目に私達はどんな風にうつっているんだろう　ーいつか　打ちとけてくれるかしら　やりたいことやわがままをー　それはまるで家族のようにいつか

Kitamoto and Nishimura

ーだから��打ちとけてきたけど時々心ここにあらずというか遠くを見るような目になるよな

そうかあ？

…そうきっぱり言われるとお前がニブすぎなのか　おれが考えすぎなのか　判断しかねるんだよなあ

まあ　夏目は都会から来てるから　いつかはこんな田舎出ていこうとは思ってるかもな

ーこんな田舎…か…

あの遠い目は

そういうことか

Touko:

—Sometimes Takashi-kun has eyes that look as if they were empty, like his heart’s not here, like he’s looking terribly far away. How are we reflected in those eyes? —I wonder if he will open up to us, someday. Doing what he wants, being self-indulgent— 

[Over panel “introducing” Sensei] Someday acting like family like that…

Kitamoto and Nishimura:

Kitamoto:—So… he’s opening up, but sometimes he has eyes like his mind is elsewhere [lit. ‘without his heart being here’], or rather, like he’s looking far away.

Nishimura: Oh, yeah?

Kitamoto: …You say that so flatly, I can’t decide if you’re too dense or I’m overthinking it.

Nishimura: Well, Natsume’s from the city, so he’s probably thinking about how he wants to get away from a backwater like this, someday.

Kitamoto: —A backwater like this… huh?

Kitamoto: Those faraway eyes,

Kitamoto: [Over panel “introducing” Tanuma] is that what they mean?

[NB Kitamoto’s very last line is actually on the next page, which I didn’t scan.] 

Now, things are rearranged a little and sometimes conjugated differently, but there are enough visual similarities and enough similarities in language use that this is an absolutely, 110% undeniable parallel. The bold parts are basically slightly altered variations on the same thing. You’ll note that Kitamoto changes one thing in a significant way: instead of “I wonder if he’ll open up to us” he says “he’s opening up.” I’ll get to that later, but first I want to talk about the wording a little.

There’s an interesting, extremely-lost-in-translation bit here. I’ve preserved it by adding in the literal translation in brackets, but you can’t do that in normal, non-annotated translations. Basically, Kitamoto uses the phrase “without his heart being here” which is a set expression similar to the English “there in body, not in spirit.” The Japanese word for “heart” is similar to the English in its metaphorical uses, but overlaps more with “mind.” So “without his heart being here” suggests that his mind is elsewhere, that he’s preoccupied with something else and not really aware of what he’s doing or where he is at that moment (which in this case is “hanging out with Nishimura and Kitamoto”).

Touko-san, on the other hand, has altered this phrase a bit. Since it’s no longer in the same form as the set phrase, it comes across a bit more literal: he looks as if his heart, his spirit, has left his body, as if his body were “empty.” It feels stronger, reminiscent of outright dissociation instead of being merely distant and distracted. At the same time, her wording alludes to the familiar phrase and would be recognizably related. 

Second, “self-indulgent” is my translation of わがまま here. わがまま semi-literally means “one’s own way” with an implication that one is thinking purely of oneself, with no regard for others. For this reason, it often translates as “selfish” or “self-centered.” However, in this context Touko-san is clearly referring to having a level of trust and comfort, such that Natsume can express his desires openly without feeling like he has to defer to the desires of others or justify himself. So I thought the less negative “self-indulgent” was a better fit.

Third, I translated Kitamoto’s “Is that what they mean?” semi-literally because it was the only way to link it to the previous “faraway eyes” phrase in English. However, this そういうことか is a set expression in Japanese, similar to “I see.” It’s not so much that Kitamoto is questioning Nishimura’s explanation, as that he has tentatively accepted it because he can’t think of anything else (yet).

So I thought about why these parallels exist, and there are a few options. One is that it’s meant to compare Kitamoto and Touko-san. This is possible, but the ways in which they are similar (being stable sources of support and normality) are too obvious to require such a distinct parallel. Further, in this usage the parallel excludes Nishimura and Shigeru-san, which makes no sense. 

The second possibility is that it’s meant to compare Tanuma and Sensei. This isn’t entirely unlikely—I wrote in my notes a long time ago that they were both “buffers” in the sense of easing Natsume’s interaction with the world. Sensei makes it easier for Natsume to interact with yōkai, and process his yōkai related trauma. Tanuma makes it easier for him to interact with humans, and helps him process his human-related trauma.

But I think the real reason for this set of parallels is to make the implications precise. Because Kitamoto and Touko-san use the same language, we know they’re talking about the same stages of emotional development. Kitamoto changing “will he open up to us?” to “he’s opening up” is key, because it means we’ve moved down the list chronologically, and from Sensei’s role to Tanuma’s. It also reinforces the subtext linking Sensei and Tanuma to their respective roles, because it introduces them using the same “subtextually related dialog in the same panel” technique, like so:

Touko thinks “Someday acting like family like that…” and in the same panel, though chronologically later, she says “Kitty?” (a.k.a Sensei)

Kitamoto thinks “Is that what they mean?” (That is: his eyes are “distant” because he wants to leave the countryside.) and in the same panel, though chronologically later, the teacher says “We have a new transfer student.” (a.k.a. Tanuma)

Since the same technique is used in both parallels, we can be reasonably certain this isn’t a misinterpretation of subtext.

So why do Sensei and Tanuma fulfill these roles? Why does Sensei help Natsume open up, and why does Tanuma make Natsume’s eyes less distant (make his heart “here”)?

I think that in buffering Natsume’s interaction with the yōkai world, Sensei gives him space to breath. Since he no longer has to be in “survival mode” 24/7, he’s able to relax at times and actually properly interact with the people who love and support him. There’s also an argument to be made that Sensei’s selfishness (e.g. his constant demands for snacks) forces Natsume to be a little selfish himself, or at least to ask for things. Hence why Sensei is associated with “opening up” and perhaps softening up his “distant eyes” somewhat.

With Tanuma, there are a lot of suggestions scattered throughout the series that Natsume originally thought of this town as a temporary resting place. That he still planned to live alone eventually, and that he had no intention of forming permanent bonds, no matter how kind the Fujiwaras—or Nishimura and Kitamoto—may be. Mostly because such a thing did not seem feasible to him when he was in constant danger, but also because he had been conditioned to think of his caretakers as glorified, reluctant innkeepers. But when Tanuma comes along, not only does he essentially start demanding emotional growth from Natsume, but he also starts treating Natsume’s continued presence as a forgone conclusion. For example, at the end of the culture fair festival, he tells Natsume that “It’ll surely go better next year.” Judging from Natsume’s reaction, it doesn’t seem to have occurred to him there would be a next year. Finally, of course, there’s Natsume’s attachment to Tanuma, which forces him to grow emotionally so he won’t lose (or hurt) his best friend.

There’s one more interesting little touch here. When Natsume admits he’s facing similar troubles as Kitamoto (who is trapped between his desire to stay with his family, and his need to leave town and go to college so he can control his future), he says “I want to stay here forever.” Instead of something like “this town” or “with the Fujiwaras,” he uses the relatively vague ここ, which is the same “here” in the expression “without his heart being here.” In this way it very subtly reinforces the implication that Tanuma grounded Natsume, and brought his heart back “here.”

As this story was published shortly after “The Other Side of the Glass,” the connection between Tanuma and Natsume’s fear of having to leave is still fresh (to the reader):

—ずっと　怖かったんだ　いつか　こんなことが起きてしまったらと　ひょっとしたら　もうここにいては—

—I have always been afraid. That someday,  if something like this happened, perhaps, staying here any longer—

The “staying here any longer” is an incomplete sentence. It may mean “If I stay here any longer…” or it may be the first half of “I can’t/shouldn’t stay here anymore.”

Compare his dialog with Kitamoto at the end of Kitamoto’s special:

ずっとここにいたいんだ　きっとそれじゃだめなんだけど　もう　どこへもう行きたくないよ　ここが好きなんだ　ずっとここにいたいんだ

I want to stay here forever. I’m sure it’s hopeless but, I don’t want to go anywhere else anymore. I like it here. I want to stay here forever.

Bolded phrases are the same, merely conjugated differently. (“I want to” is handled like a conjugation in Japanese.) “Any longer” and “anymore” are contextual translations of the same word; もう has a lot of related uses, but these two are essentially the same. So there’s clearly a similarity in the way the two stories treat the issue of Natsume wanting to stay.

Ergo, Sensei is family and Tanuma is the anchor to Natsume’s heart. Canonically.