#yeah my sketches are utter chaos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now.

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity.

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention.

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure.

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still.

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them.

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.”

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle.

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

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

OK. This was way too fun to write.

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#all men have limits #AMHL bonus content #make a scene extension #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #jason todd and platonic!reader #jason todd x platonic!reader #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #bruce wayne and reader

276 notes · View notes

girlofmanyfandoms · 5 years ago

Note

keefex, romantic or platonic

I have no idea if this was what you were looking for, but:

Ok, so it really begins when one day, Fitz is busy studying for midterms

And Keefe has photographic memory, so he’s like “Yeah, pass”

So obviously Soph is busy studying as well, and those are his two go-to’s

So he decides to check on Dex, since they haven’t chatted in a while

He gets very excited at this idea, but he doesn’t know w h y

And his father wouldn’t approve of him having to go through Mysterium, so that’s a plus

So he knocks on the door and finds that it’s open

And it’s just utter chaos

There’s the sound of flames, bubbling, and then a mini explosion

Kesler and Dex emerge from the back room covered in some bubbling purple substance

With eye protection ofc, but their hair and clothes are a mess

Bex slides down the swirly railing squealing, Lex and Rex running after her

They knock down a vase, and Juline sighs as she sweeps up the remains

She looks up to see Keefe and flushes with embarrassment

*cue her scolding Kesler and Dex and telling them to clean themselves up*

They laugh at this, but oblige

Juline then asks if he came there for elixirs

He says no, that he wanted to hang out with Dex and maybe study for midterms

She tells him to wait in Dex’s room so he can clean up, then offers to makes snacks, which he accepts

(She then runs after the triplets to distract them with snow people, but we don’t talk about that)

So Keefe is chilling in Dex’s room when something shiny catches his eye

It’s a gold box, resting on a shelf

And your boy’s impulsivity kicks in, he H A S to know what’s up with this box

So he gets up to look at it, and that’s when he finally takes a moment to see just how many inventions Dex had created

There’s a few crates on the floor below the shelves of just blueprints and sketches for different prototypes

He starts sifting through them when Dex comes into the room

“What are you doing?”

*panics* “What are YOU doing?”

Keefe then realizes part of Dex’s hair is dyed purple from whatever substance exploded

“hA, you’re a grape”

*eye rolling* “Hilarious”

Keefe tells him that he should approach the Council with some of his inventions, or at the very least, Lady Iskra

Dex winces, and reminds him of how the ability restrictor went

“This is different,” Keefe insists. “The least you can do is tell your Technopathy mentor.”

Dex says some stuff that reveals his self-doubt, feelings of not having a purpose, shame, loneliness, etc.

And Keefe is like ??? Not a vibe

So he hugs Dex tightly and tells him how much he means to him

Dex squeaks and blushes a bit

He then has a moment of “why am I blushing, this is just my friend being supportive. Right?”

Keefe realizes he’s been holding onto him for a while and slowly pulls away

To change the subject, he makes Dex show him each and every blueprint and machine he’s made

This easily goes into the evening, and Keefe decides he’ll sleep over

He helps Dex narrow it down to 10 inventions that he’ll show Lady Iskra next class

Dex then asks if he wants to study for midterms

To which Keefe responds with “No studying, we die like warriors!”

And Dex is already pretty much set, so he suggests they play a human game, any game that Sophie got for him

Keefe searches through the box of games and his eyes land on Twister

He skims the description and is dead set on playing it

He shoves it in Dex’s face

And Dex, having the knowledge of the types of tension that can arise refuses profusely, turning very red

“Are you a tomato or a grape? You have to choose.”

Dex blushes even more, and pushes the game away

“No,” Dex repeats.

“C’mon Dexinator. Please?”

Dex chances a glance at his friend, who is making puppy eyes, and his heart melts

The only thing going through his head is ‘Why is he so cute?’

Dex shakes his head violently, he’s not supposed to think like that. This is his FRIEND. Nothing more

But Keefe has moved closer, bringing his pleas and pouts with him

Dex realizes how close they are and time kinda slows

His brain feels like mush and he gets butterflies in his stomach

He has this moment where he realizes “this is the same thing I thought I felt for Sophie”

And so he gets really confused with his labels. Was he gay, but misplacing his feelings? Was he bi? Was he pan?

Keefe gave no time for him to think about this, and using his height to his advantage, draped himself over Dex

“Come oooonnnn, let’s play Twisterrrrrr”

Dex shoves him off playfully. If this is how he feels, he might as well spare his poor heart another panic attack from their proximity

“Fine, one round.”

“YES! Point for the Keefester!”

So they set up the mat in the room and take turns spinning the wheel

Keefe always takes the spot farthest from him, just to create a challenge

5 minutes in and Keefe is in a bridge position

A few moves later and Dex is in a push-up position directly over him

Keefe is now experiencing peak *gay panic*

So to attempt to break the tension, he says, “Gonna give me twenty?”

“Twenty kisses”

Dex did NOT mean to say that out loud and internally curses himself

“Well, I guess we better start right away”

Dex hesitates, but moves closer

And then there’s a knock on the door

Keefe scrambles out from under him, kicks the Twister mat under the bed, and rests against the wall casually in time for Juline to enter

“I made rifflepuffs!”

“Thanks, mom, can you leave them on the nightstand?”

She does, and once she leaves, Dex makes sure to lock the door

He facepalms before dropping face first onto his bed and letting out a scream into his pillow

Keefe gets up and sits next to him, rubbing his back

“I can sleep on the couch downstairs if you want.”

“No, you can sleep with me”

Realizing what that implied, Dex leaped up and corrected himself

“I meant in the same bed! Like next to each other, sleeping!”

Keefe assures him that he knew what he meant, laughing

“How does Saturday at 6 work for you? The bakery in Atlantis?”

Dex is confused. Keefe actually likes him, too?

“It’s a date”

They continue to hang out, but they recline on each other more casually, trying to see what the other person was comfortable with

Soon enough, it’s dark out, and they pull the covers over themselves

“You know about those twenty kisses...”

“KeEfE-”

Imma do the platonic ones in a bit, my creativity returns from vacation soon

#keefe sencen #dex dizznee #keefex #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #my asks

41 notes · View notes

whitelotusherald · 4 years ago

Text

the last 24 hours has been one of the most surreal Monty Python sketches performed in Hungary

the vaccination programme is just One Utter Chaos

yesterday a mass text message was sent by the authorities that over 70k people gonna get their vaccines on Saturday - too bad many got appointment at distant hospitals and by distant I mean sometimes 100+ km away (in a country where you can find a larger city at 50km away even if you live in the most remote place), and some had already got their vaccines

they realized they fucked up something and today the PM announced they stop the programme also he mentioned that “yeah well sometimes the data is incorrect as people MOVE and we don’t have their current address” (like... my dude... what? you know EVERYTHING about EVERYONE you should have one large database with up-to-date data and whatnot! isn’t that what 21st century public administration is about?)

so now they are once again sending mass text message to tell people “well yeah you won’t get your vaccine this weekend lol don’t worry you will get it soon... hopefully?”

and the government's communication is just RIDICULOUS they are like “oh no don’t spread fake news and tell people there won’t be mass vaccination on Saturday bc there won’t be mass vaccination on Saturday”

the PM said you can call the authorities to help them correct the mistakes but a number hasn’t been disclosed yet so yeah good luck calling a nonexistent number?

and I’m just sitting here and I’m SO ANGRY they have the FUCKING NERVE during the pandemic to

say they help people while they mostly help their friends

reorganize (=mess up) the healthcare system DURING IT’S MOST DIFFICULT TIME

wage a communication war on European People's Party that our governing party recently left

wage a communication war on LGBTQ folks, prevent same-sex couples to adopt and fuck up the lives of trans people just bc they can (& covid is TOTALLY gonna vanish if you play the “gays are bad for kids” card)

do a gazillion other things I can’t recall right now because excuse me but they do 25 shitty and shady things a day and I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH THEM AND REMEMBER ALL

while they can’t organize the vaccination & fuck up the healthcare as GPs are drowning in all the paperwork that comes with the vaccines

I’M SO PISSED I HOPE MANY WILL REMEMBER THIS FUCKING COVID DISASTER DURING NEXT YEAR’S ELECTIONS

#covid #hungary #hungarian politics #I'm sorry feel free to correct any factual mistakes I'm just fucking tired and angry and SO DONE WITH HUNGARY

5 notes · View notes

joemuggs · 5 years ago

Text

Pirate Material: Still Original

Saw some discussion of The Streets’s early work, and went to see if this article was still online - it’s not because the Vice brand partnership vertical (I’m sorry) that it was originally written for is gone. So here you go again!

I don't hold with the insidious theory that making brilliant art is a young man's game – or, in the words of Sickboy in Trainspotting, that “you have it, then you lose it”. It's a trope that's been with us since the beginning of rock'n'roll, dammit since the romantic poets, that idea that inspiration is intrinsically tied up with the energy of youth, that great works come like a bolt from the blue and artists are best off dying young1 rather than chasing round in ever-decreasing circles trying to relight your creative fire the rest of your sorry life. But it's clearly rubbish, a denial of craft and labour, put about by fantasists and advertisers and used as justification by those with a vested interest in keeping us emotionally immature and by the worst kind of poseurs for their ghastly Peter Pan antics.

Every so often, though, something I see or hear will make me think again – will make me have a flickering moment of belief in the essential white light of youthful creativity. And 'Original Pirate Material' is one of those things. I mean, have you heard it recently? Really heard it? Played it loud from the beginning, given it your full attention, let that utterly insane opening salvo of 'Turn the Page', 'Has it Come to This' and 'Let's Push Things Forward' work their magic on you? It's arm-hair raising stuff, it really is. The false hierarchies and dreary consensus of best-ever lists is another of those things I don't hold with, but yeah this really, really deserved to be on all those best-of-the-2000s lists, and I will gladly fight its corner against the Arctic Monkeys, Dizzee, Radiohead, Outkast, whatever you care to bring in fact.

Like almost all the best music, I didn't really get it at first. It was tinny-sounding and clattery, where I was used to dance music's oomph; I couldn't work out what Skinner's roaming accent was getting at as he slipped and slid across the rhythms, in and out of ordinary conversational cadence, lurching from sublime to ridiculous within single phrases. It was intriguing right enough, but it was impossible to shake the idea that it was all a bit contrived, an indie-weakened version of soundsystem/MC culture, or even more naggingly the idea that it was a wind-up, that this music was taking the piss out of all of us. Lines nicked from 'Gladiator' and talk about his Reeboks? Be serious. And then I had the epiphany.

The scene couldn't have been set better, really. I was out in Amsterdam for eight days on my first ever magazine feature assignment – to cover a conference on Amazon shamanic practice AND a High Times convention. I'd been hanging out with psychonauts, ravers, witch doctors2 and Dutch farmers, and experienced the best that ancient cultures and modern science had to offer; I was in a terrific mood as I was finally doing the job I'd always wanted to, and had been able to utter the immortal phrase “can I claim my ritual on expenses3, please?” on the phone to the Face magazine office. So when someone mentioned “that new band The Streets are playing the Melkweg” I was pretty much up for it.

The DJ beforehand, a Dutchman called Big Head, was playing what was generally known as “breakstep”, a kind of funky uncle to dubstep, and I liked it so much I bought his mix CD4. The Streets were very late coming on, but the crowd were raving and so was I, so who cared? When they did crash onto the stage, though, Skinner immediately and repeatedly asking the crowd if anyone had any cocaine, it was a glorious disruption of the groove, their sound spiky and awkward, and from the beginning I loved it. I don't remember a lot about the band except there was an ex-member of the Senseless Things5 on bass, and that Skinner and his co-vocalist spent a lot of the set pushing, shoving and trying to trip one another up.

And that's when it clicked into place: yes, this was a piss-take, but it was a deadly serious piss-take. This child-like 24-year-old was not just meandering between voices, themes and levels of seriousness, he was embodying every single one of them. He was a shaman too6. What was chaos and what was control became impossible to discern7. The only time I could remember seeing elemental clowning like this before on a stage was the Happy Mondays back in 1990, but I also recognised the spirit of so many loony rave urchins I'd been bamboozled and bantered at and had lighters stolen by over the years8, the never-ending babble of these Shakespearean monkeys, possessed by the endless power of the English language to spin out shaggy dog stories, to make jokes of the most serious matters and suddenly turn jokes deathly serious. The films that were projected as back stories to each of the tracks matched the quotidian urban subject matter of those songs – but they, like the lyrics and the music, revealed something so much more primal beneath. And still you could dance, laugh, drink and carouse to it.

Which is why, when I listen to 'Original Pirate Material' now, I don't hear “bloke poetry” or grittiness or mundanity or social realism any of those other things that are inevitably reeled out. I hear constant windows in to the most profound and abstracted of human instincts and experiences: vertigo, jealousy, transition, glory, loss, innocence and so much more. Just listen to the sudden swerves from domestic detail to dizzying generality in 'It's Too Late' or the affirmation and melancholy in 'Weak Become Heroes': these are about so, so much more than losing a girl or doing a pill9. They're about being human. Only years later did I start realising that Skinner was writing in a great English language tradition going a millennium back to Beowulf and taking in Sterne, Carroll, Lear, Pound, Spike Milligan, Ivor Cutler, Mark E Smith and Roots Manuva10, gibbering gobshites and bullshit artists, holy fools who could skip wildly into parts of our psyches where angels fear to tread.

He could never top this, could he? None of this is to dismiss Skinner's later work – he has on occasion made some glorious music and told some great tales since, and especially on 'Computers and Blues' when he turned full circle back to some of his early themes and freeform lyricism he showed he was tapped into the same wellspring – but 'Original Pirate Material' had it all. Everything afterwards, whether it's his narratives of modern life and celebrity, or his more philosophical turns, couldn't help but be self-conscious, trying to impose more structure onto what he had already expressed so perfectly in its rants, sketches, jokes and asides. This isn't about drugs, it's not about “authenticity”11, and it's not really about youth as such – others have tapped into this very British, very mongrel method of accessing the ways of the human mind from very different places and perspectives – but for Skinner it was all tied into a particular openness to everything that comes with being a hungry young man with his eyes (very) wide open.

1 See the infamous “27 Club”, much discussed when Amy Winehouse carked it, and so called because it's the number of times anyone who takes it seriously deserves to have their face walloped with a cricket bat.

2 To be precise, a shaman from the Shuar tribe of Ecuador who played the Jew's harp.

3 Yes, bloggers, these were the days when journalists got paid expenses. They were decadent times, the early 00s.

4 In fact it is sitting on my desk right now, and it still sounds good.

5 You think nonsense genre names like “Post Dubstep” or indeed “Breakstep” are silly? Back in the 90s, The Senseless things were lumped, along with Mega City 4 and Silverfish into a genre called Fraggle Rock. Seriously.

6 No Jew's harp though, just a microphone.

7 You want to know how giddy with the brilliance of it all I was feeling at that moment? My brain flashed up the image of Stockard Channing going “chaos... control... chaos... control... you like?” to Will Smith as Donald Sutherland spun a double-sided Kandinsky in 'Six Degress of Separation'. And what? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjwiachXkjc

8 One routine about fake vs real Nike caps that managed to weave in and out of between-song patter for almost the entire set was such archetypal rave bollocks that you'd swear you'd heard it before from someone who was about to do you out of a tenner at some party on a hillside.

9 They're about those things too, though.

10 Peter Ackroyd's 'Albion: the Origins of the English Imagination' is the book you need on this topic, although admittedly he doesn't get right the way through to Roots Manuva.

11 There's no such thing.

#the streets #original pirate material #uk garage #breakstep #ukg #mike skinner #amsterdam #shamanism #dmt #ayahuasca #cannabis #visionaries #storytelling #poetry #rap #uk hip hop #melkweg

3 notes · View notes

jajko493 · 6 years ago

Photo

I decided to sketch out my Enderal Prophetess, since I’ve already drawn her twice. While ingame I can’t quite play with her clothes, I kinda see her in this outfit in my head. The background is literally just a scribble, so as to not leave space empty tho, mhhh. More about her in the full post, and spoilers up until the end of the game are aplenty. It’s a long one, I can’t seem to be able to be more concise!

Her name is Rak’hel. Her name, rather than being pronounced as Rachel (sir Firespark would most probably beg to differ), goes like this: rack-hell, with a very hard h. She’s half-Qyranian, obviously.

She’s a particularly tall woman, towering over many. She cut her hair shortly before leaving for Enderal, seeing it as troublesome to maintain while traveling. Three scars are present on her face, gained from a fight with a particularly meddlesome customer, not pleased with his soup. With but a bit of grace and her usual stern expression, she could be perceived as emotionless. Paired with her reluctancy to speak much and sparse shows of being emotional, it is no wonder. One who gets closer, though, gets to experience a range of both quiet and loud feelings dwelling inside.

When worried about you, she definitely would try to stick close to you, to the point of keeping some physical contact at all times, hoping to never have the chance to see something bad happen.

Were you to anger her, by showing extreme lack of respect by walking out mid quarrel, leaving her helpless and unable to finish the topic, she wouldn’t scream - but it’d be visible. With clear rage on her face, she could even slam her fist on the wall, the table (not a person, never!). Afterwards, her glass would be filled with mead and wine until the next day, to empty her head of worries and thoughts. Reason as well.

Goodness, at least she’s strong when it comes to alcohol.

‘That son of a Vatyr is going to regret this’, she spoke into her cup, gripping it as if planning to break it.

When happy, her expression softens, revealing a delicate smile. One blemished with a scar on the left side of her rip, slightly pulling it upwards. Definitely expect jokes, and not just the proper kind! She isn’t squeamish when it comes to physical pleasures.

She doesn’t remember much of her childhood, with her mind repressing the memories due to events related to her house burning down, which she can’t quite forget, due to frequent nightmares making her relive the event in horrible ways. It’s not as if she’s eager to discuss and exactly remember what happened, anyway.

She toiled away her teenage years mostly in kitchens of inns and taverns, training herself to maybe, just maybe, open one of her own in the future - though that prospect became as distant as it possibly could, with Nehrim being swayed by chaos of war after the death of Lightborn. With her workplace burnt down by the time she was 25, alongside her long time friend, Sirius, she decided to look for a new one in Enderal.

There, she quickly picked up alchemy, seeing it as an extension of cooking. Do not let her do both at the same time. Separately, she creates dishes that taste just like home and high quality concoctions. Mix them, and you just might find ghost wrappings in your tomato soup. Or worse - tomato in your stamina poison. She’s willing to take any challenge, there are no impossible recipes - only more difficult ones.

‘There are no negative effects in cures, or beneficial factors in venoms. There are only well- and badly distilled elixirs.’

Though not well versed in contract, she trains her muscle with swords, preferring two-handed to one-handed. Not quite logically, she prefers light armor to the heavy variety.

Suddenly gaining the ability to use magic was initially shocking. Tragically inspired by the two Apothecari, Finn and Carbos, whom she briefly met at the start of her journey in Enderal, she decided to teach herself in the school of Restoration.

If all went well in her adventures, she’d wish to gather enough money from her adventures to open an inn with place for healers beside it. If not as well, then at least she could manage traveling by herself, with potions she made (especially with the ability to recite every combination for health potion and ambrosia) and magic. Any companions she had - she could save.

‘All to not be left alone.’

And yet, after befriending some in the Order and outside of it, finding a soulmate in a certain cynical, yet endearing mercenary, she once again felt alone. Working alongside everyone against the incoming Cleansing, which felt closer and closer with each step towards stopping it. She figured a last-ditch effort would be necessary to counteract it. Learning that not only was she one of the key elements in bringing it to reality struck her deeply. On top of that, she wasn’t even fully real or alive - despite how alive has she felt exploring the wilderness of the Dark Valley, or hiding during a sandstorm close to Duneville. If, as the Black Guardian said, her dear one turned out to not have survived as well, she wasn’t sure she’d bother saving Vyn.

‘Hopeless’, she muttered. ‘Absolutely hopeless.’

But he was alive, and, by the Gods! He was there with her. And what more reassurance could she need? She stood next to him in battles, he survived her fury after running away, he wanted a future with her. But...

From the choices she could take, only one of them could lead to them staying together - and it was the most painful one.

Her decision, in the end, was to sacrifice herself to give this world a bit more time to figure out how to save itself. Shaping a new humanity into better kind was not something she deemed herself to be capable of. What she could do, however, is believe in the one she allowed to fly away on a Myrad before effectively dissolving into nonexistence.

...yeah, no. She wasn’t quite so willing to sacrifice herself. It wasn’t a suicide - it was a challenge, and the name of it was Dreamflower Elixir.

Having brewed it on her own, she wasn’t sure it was done well, and if it would work. She struck the Black Stones of the Beacon without believing she’d make it through. Could she cheat the Death itself?

Surprisingly, she opened her eyes again, after already accepting she was done for.

For all intents and purposes, she’d never again say she ‘woke up’ - and she was right about it. All the traveling and adventures she met on her path, whether alone or accompanied by her loved one, she took as just another chapter of a dream, granted to her as a reward for giving up her chance at fleeting, but real happiness.

Throughout endless conversations, she’d always go back to this very line of thought.

‘It is most probably a dream, but it’s not as if I mind, she declared in the same calm voice as always, despite the protests of her partner. Standing with her back against the railing of veranda with admittedly a dreamy view, in a gown that left little to imagine, she spouted what one could perceive as nothing but utter nonsense at times. ‘I welcome it, in fact. I am with you, and that matters to me. But it could have been different, you know. Maybe not as nice. But goodness... Just, the fact that it is so nice is what keeps me uncertain. Only Malphas would know the truth, I suppose.’

Indeed, she was dreaming. In a split of second, the Dreamflower created a soft cushion of illusion to shield her from reality. And it started showing cracks - it’s no good for it when the dreamer is too aware.

It all had to go deeper.

When she turned around after being met with no response to her monologue, she saw that she was alone. Furthermore, after blinking to make sure it wasn’t the peaceweed affecting her vision, she noticed she wasn’t even on the veranda anymore. Instead, she stood in a pure, white space, with a field of lightly glowing nightflowers at her feet. One more glance around, and she was met with The Veiled--- no, not her.

A veiled woman. But a different one, with a flower attached on the side of her head. By the gods, what kind of sick joke is her mind playing on her?

Then, she presented her an offer, almost too good to be true. Yet, Rak’hel somehow believed in it.

She was given a chance to start anew. Explore a different eventuality. Not leave the dream to experience the future, but try again, and possibly change it?

Utter foolishness. Absolutely unreal.

But, if magic was all about exploring different eventualities... Maybe this was one where that could actually happen?

Swayed by the prospect of seeing Enderal again, she agreed. With a snap of the woman’s finger, Rak’hel blinked and---

She was woken up from a nightmare by Sirius. She sat there dazed for a couple of seconds, before chuckling at her friend’s joke. If they had a penny for all the times he did it, they’d be traveling in their own starship, and she’d definitely have a barber cut her hair beforehand. It’s getting too long and troublesome.

Some people like to create fluffy AUs where everyone is happy, some like to instead torture their characters even more. Guess I’m the second one.

Kinda prompted into writing by this song.

#enderal #Enderal: Forgotten Stories #oc #prophetess #prophet #the prophetess #kind of fanfiction #this writing got out of hand #rak'hel #sasanka sketches #sasanka jajko art

36 notes · View notes

gentlemanmendes · 7 years ago

Text

Beauty behind the Madness | 21|

Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist under beauty behind the madness sorry tumblrs being a bitch so I have to give you guys the link making the post look ugly but here ya go https://gentlemanmendes.tumblr.com/post/154438057583/masterlist

21:

Arleigh had that look on her face for the past three hours, the look when she wanted to say something and with all her might was holding it back. Her face always contoured with her brows knitting together, her nose scrunching up, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she bit down on her cheeks as if that would stop her from talking. It's small things like this, when I know what each of her gestures and expression mean, that hurts the most. All this pointless stuff I spent six years learning about Arleigh was suddenly pointless. It's like I wasted six years on studying her for absolutely nothing.

I throw my car keys and room key on the table as I attempt to busy myself by emptying my pockets even though I know they are already empty. Arleigh seems to have the same idea, after she puts down her art journal and pencils that I had gifted her with earlier before shuffling through her bag helplessly. Neither of us had said much all afternoon but I figured it was because Arleigh was feeling as tired as I was. I had never liked driving long distances, I always felt like they dragged on pointlessly, and have driven way too much in the past twenty four hours for my liking but to see the reaction on Arleigh's face today, I would do it all over without hesitation for her.

After she had finished drawing Arleigh had met me out on the steps in front of the museum, the art journal and pencils packed away rightly under her arm. I wanted to ask her to look at the picture but it seemed too personal, like I would be stepping over a line, and decided against it. We agreed to get some lunch, stopping at a cafe we bought coffee and sandwiches before making our way down to a lake where again Arleigh pulled out her journal and began sketching the landscape in front of us. It had been a good afternoon, and although deadly silent between us, I found myself feeling whole and content all while doing nothing.

"I'm going to shower." Arleigh mumbles hesitantly after she has gathered the things she needed to take with her into the bathroom. Frowning to herself she pauses for a moment biting down on her lip as if contemplating whether to say something else or not. I want to tell her that it's okay and that she can say whatever she wants but I can't bring myself to speak. She seems to think better of it as she shakes her head to herself, as if dismissing the thought, before continuing into the bathroom. From the mirror in front of me I watch as Arleigh puts her belongings down on the floor before looking into the mirror above the sink. Her frown had grown deeper if that was even possible, and she seemed to have grown frustrated with her reflection. Her attention diverted to the empty sink that she was leaning against, her body hunched over as if in pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask hoping I don't sound too intrusive. I've learned many things about Arleigh but the most important was to give her space when she wasn't in the best of moods, if I had learned this a few years earlier we would have had a lot less problems between us.

"Yeah I'm fine." She mumbled shrugging me off just as I knew she would. As if on instinct I roll my eyes only to remember that she has every right to shrug me off, we aren't together any more and she has no reason to trust me. Moving towards my backpack to get changed into something more comfortable to sleep in I'm surprised when I hear Arleigh's voice behind me, loud and clear. "No actually, I'm not fine and it's all your fault!" Her tone was harsh and filled with accusation. Shock had overcome me, was I hearing things? Arleigh had never been one to be so abrupt and straight to the point.

When I turned around sure enough Arleigh is standing there glaring up at me and she doesn't look pleased, if anything she looks as though she had been slowly bottling up all this tension and now she was about to explode. As much as I wanted to defend myself, tell her she was wrong, or even explain what had really happened that night I can't bring myself to utter a word. I can't say anything because I know that nothing would justify my actions that night. For a while I thought this wouldn't happen, that she wouldn't bring up that night, but I knew I was only lying to myself. How could she not bring it up? She was in rehab for over three months because of me.

***

Pacing through my bedroom I can't help wonder if this was possibly the stupidest thing I had ever done, yesterday morning throwing a party seemed like a great idea but after the fight with Arleigh the last thing I'm in the mood for is to party. The loud music is causing the house to shake, my floorboards vibrating from the beat beneath me, making me positive that the neighbours are going to call and complain. Again I look out the window and although Arleigh's bedroom light is obviously on I can't see her because she has closed her blinds. Was she really going to be this petty over a stupid argument we had last night? Judging by the lights on downstairs I'm assuming Mr Axle is home, hopefully the loud music and annoying teens are irritating him.

My door swings open causing my head to snap in that direction ready to tell the next two people who thought they could have sex in my room to fuck off but to my surprise it's just Mitch who seems to be incredibly pissed off by something, a bottle of cheap beer in his hand as he steps into my room slamming the door behind him.

"Dude are you seriously still sulking over Arleigh?" He takes my silence as answer enough before shouting loudly for me to get over it. It was easy for him to say, he didn't know what it was like to care about anyone or anything other than himself. Sure he has his reasons for being a selfish asshole but he doesn't have to force his actions on the rest of us. So what if I'm whipped for Arleigh, she has been my best friend since I was twelve, we see each other every day and do everything together, it would be weird for me to not have her around and if we break up things would never be the same, I didn't want to loose that.

"Arleigh's not even here," Mitch began as he started dragging me towards my bedroom door and back out into the party. "Just have some fun tonight and talk to her in the morning when she's finally over her little tantrum."

Unwillingly I allow Mitch to pull me out of my room and down the stars into the chaos that has taken over my home. In a way he is right, I'm throwing this great party and am choosing to sit up in my room sulking about something Arleigh will most likely get over by tomorrow. We make our way to the lounge room where Mitch instructs Andy to go get me a drink which he grudgingly obliges to, I figure the only reason he got up was because the drink was for me and if it had been for Mitch he would have not moved from his spot.

For the corner of my eye I see Mitch nods his head at someone to come over towards us before he makes room on the couch between us. Sure enough Layla takes the empty spot and says hi to me. Yesterday I had only flirted with her a little in class because I was mad at Arleigh and in a way I was hoping the news would find its way back to Arleigh, not by Mitch blurting it out the way he did but maybe by one of Layla's bitchy friends telling people about it until Arleigh eventually found out. Now looking back at it that has to be one of the dumbest ideas I have ever come up with. The fact that Mitch had been all for it should have been a sign that it was a bad idea.

Layla had been talking for a good ten minutes but I had just been giving her nods and one worded mumble response as I tried to drown her out by focusing on my drink. She was practically on top of me shouting into my ear just so she could be heard over the loud music. Right now I'm starting to understand why Arleigh hates parties so much and always disappeared off to somewhere quieter and lonelier. Mitch always suggested it was because she was boring but I know understood it was because parties are way to hectic when you are not in the right mood, which Arleigh never seemed to be in.

How the hell was I supposed to tell this girl that I wasn't into her at all? She's hot and unlike most girls in our class she isn't a bitch, but she just simply isn't my type. Maybe for a good fuck I would call her up but I have a girlfriend, even if that girlfriend had dumped me earlier today. Again I have to remind myself of what Mitch had said 'talk to her in the morning when she's finally over her little tantrum.' Arleigh just needed her space right now, first thing in the morning I will go over and sort things out with her and make sure Mitch isn't there to screw it up.

For a long time I felt like I could get through the rest of tonight by drinking and only half heartedly listening to Layla until she said 'I heard you and Areligh broke up.' I try not to choke on the liquid in my mouth at her abrupt statement.

"We just had a disagreement, it's nothing big." I shrug her off and take a swing from the beer Mitch had given me a few minutes earlier making it my third drink in less that an hour. If Arleigh was here she would tell me to slow down and be careful.

Looking around I notice pairs of eyes on me and Layla whispering with their friends. Did everyone know about the fight Arleigh and I had. We were the only couple that had lasted as long as we have, naturally as soon a something happens between us people start jumping to conclusions. Is that seriously all people care about?

Mitch had disappeared into the kitchen to get us both another dink but now I'm doubting if that is a good idea. My head is beginning to feel light and I know I should slow down on my drinking but I don't. I know that if Arleigh was here she would be scowling at me for consuming so much alcohol in such a short period of time which for some reason only makes me want to drink more.

"Look who I found wondering around." Mitch yelled loudly at me as he approached with two cups in his hand. For a moment I'm confused until I see Arleigh trailing behind him like a lost puppy, looking completely uncomfortable and out of place with her surroundings. Without giving it a second thought I jump off of the couch in surprise causing Layla to fall back onto the person who had taken Mitch's place but when a forbidding look flashes across Arleigh's features I realise that my sudden movement made me look guilty.

Arleigh lets out a huff before diverting her attention anywhere but at me. I notice the plastic cup in her hand and have no doubt that Mitch had somehow convinced her to drink. My gaze shifts to Mitch who seems to be enjoying the tension between me and Arleigh. He stays stationed by her side making me wonder why; is he up to something? Knowing Mitch the answer is yes.

He holds his hand out and gestured for me to take my drink, stumbling forward slightly I manage to get my drink off of Mitch. Whether I was supposed to catch the eye roll Arleigh had given me due to the fact that it was obvious I've had too much to drink I'm not sure but she seems less that impressed.

Now that Mitch's hand is free he takes the opportunity to slither his arm around the small of Arleigh's back pulling her in closer to to his side. Although I can't hear what he said I watch his lips move as he practically emphasises each word "Wanna go somewhere a little more quite?" With one last glare in my direction Arleigh gives one firm nod of her head before leading the way to the front yard. Without even giving it a second thought I follow hot on their trail, over my dead body am I going to leave Arleigh alone with Mitch for a split second.

There are a few people out front but not many, someone running around the front lawn in his underwear with his shirt tied around his neck loosely like a cape his friends cheering him on. Arleigh is leaning against the railing Mitch right beside her too close for my liking. It's not that I'm jealous, if it were anyone else I probably would be jealous, it's just that Mitch is trouble not to mention his favourite thing to do is taunt Arleigh. For some reason though I can't help but feel that right now he is trying to get a rise out of me and not Arleigh. If Arleigh is uncomfortable she is is trying hard not to show it, but she forgets that I know her better than she knows herself. Just by her simple body language; how stiff she is as if focusing on keeping her body still will distract her from Mitch's hand slipping into the back pocket of her jeans, how she is holding her head high trying to seem strong and proud when I know she wants nothing more than to cower away in fear and discomfort. But I can't do anything unless she says something. Right now this is her choice and I have to sit here and watch it all play out.

"Now that you and Shawn are over how about you and I get a little friendly." Mitch taunts loudly enough for me to hear, dipping his face into the crock of her neck. At this I feel my heart rate rise and think of a million and one ways I could get Mitch away from Arleigh, my favourite option being to break his arm. "We could go up into his bedroom and get busy, what do you say?"

"Fuck off!" I yell out at him causing his attention to snap toward me in surprise, pure amusement clear on his face.

"That's not fare, I slept with Layla and am sharing her with you why can't I have Arleigh now." At this I know Arleigh is only going along with this on purpose to get a rise out of me, before I had assumed just as much but this made it obvious. There is no world where Arleigh would have ever allowed any one to discredit her like Mitch just had, epically Mitch.

I can't help but stare at Arleigh in disbelief. Is this really the same girl that I have known all this time? Is this really what it has come to? She is willing to let Mitch be all over her in some sort of payback.

"Arleigh?" I question waiting for her to snap back into her senses and shove Mitch off but she doesn't do anything instead she just stares at me blankly. At this I feel anger towards her. Just how far was she willing to go to make her point? Would she take Mitch up on his offer and go up to my room with him? "So you won't have sex with me after six years being by your side but you will have sex with Mitch, the asshole who you find disgusting. You know what fuck you!"

Betrayal grows deep inside me, fuelling the flames of my burning anger. Not with Mitch, I would have expected nothing less from him, but from Arleigh. I couldn't even form into words how much this hurt. After all I have put up with for her and she was just going to run into Mitch's arms so easily, or should I say other body parts.

"No Shawn, fuck you!" She yelled back stepping out of Mitch's grip and right in front of me. "I came here to apologise for over reacting today only to be proved right. You need to get over yourself." She threw the liquid in her cup at me taking me by surprise, the alcohol now sinking into my shirt quicker than her words did. "and think again if you think I would sink as low as sleeping with Mitch."

"Fuck off bitch!" Mitch cursed her out only to have her flip him off as she turned away to make her way down the stairs. Mitch grabbed onto Arleigh forearm to stop her only to have her slap him in response.

"You're a pig, a drunk, and will forever be alone. You pretend to be this person who doesn't give a shit about anything but deep down you are so insecure that you figure if you make others fear you they won't point out your insecurities and for a long time I did just that because I didn't want to announce to you just how pathetic everyone thinks you are." For the first time in all the years I have known Mitch he stayed quite taking me by surprise. His eye stayed glued to Arleigh. Arleigh's gaze skipped past me to the door behind me causing me to turn around only to find Andy and Jonnie standing in the door way. I'm not sure how long they've been standing there but my guess is barley a minute. They must have only heard Arleigh go off on Mitch which would explain the shock on their faces.

Seeming satisfied with herself, Arleigh turned and left this time everyone too shocked to stop her.

***

I want to respond but I can't, I have no right to. I'm guilty. I knew someone would eventually call me out on it but I had been living in denial, that maybe I could live the rest of my days without ever having to hear someone bring it up. The last person I had expected to bring it up was Arleigh, she had been playing the part of not wanting to talk about it too well. I figured that like me, the memory of that night constantly replayed in her mind but she wasn't ready to confront the matter yet. I didn't know if I would ever be ready to confront the matter but right now it seemed I didn't have a choice.

Arleigh's attention turned to the ground and she whispered "You just ran." It seemed as if she were in disbelief as she said it aloud, as if she wasn't sure if what had happened that night was all real or just her imagination."You didn't visit me at the hospital, in rehab, or even when I came home. You just ignored me as if six years meant nothing to you." I couldn't help but suddenly feel as if every muscle in my body had been frozen as if forbidden by fear to move.

When I didn't respond Arleigh's gaze lifted from the old carpet of the motel room to meet my gaze, her eyes are filled with tears that threatened to fall at any given moment.

"Why?" The desperation clear in her tone. "I know we had a fight and broke up but I thought you would at least visit." Now the tears were falling as her tone began to grow harsh with frustration. "Why?" She yelled.

Confusion settled once the shock had warn off. Arleigh wasn't bringing up that night. She wasn't mad about that, she was mad that I hadn't visited her. That didn't make sense. She had gotten a restraining order against me. If she wanted me to come see her maybe she should have made that a little clearer.

"Why? Just please tell me why." She was practically begging as she sobbed standing in front of me. She was desperate. I didn't understand why of all things that had happened this was the reason she was so worked up but for the question she was asking I had an answer, one that I couldn't be held accountable for.

"You got a restraining order against me Arleigh, if I got anywhere within a hundred meters of you I would get in serious trouble, what did you expect?" I shot back in defence.

"I didn't do that!" She yelled tangling her fingers in the roots of her hair as she tugged gently on them, her habit of frustration. "Why do you think suddenly all the charges were dropped? It was my dad, as soon as I fond out what was happening I told the nurses in the centre everything."

I suppose that does make sense as to why everything was dropped so suddenly, my guess had originally been that Mr Axle didn't have the money for it all. I'm sure that old hag would have loved to have seen me behind bars even before everything that happened and that night would have been the perfect opportunity.

Arleigh closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as if trying to calm herself down.

"You still ran." It was as if she wanted me to admit to being guilty for more than just what had happened. Hadn't I suffered through enough these past few months. She was right I did run I should have stayed with her and made sure she was okay but that was a little difficult with her insane father yelling at us.

"What was I supposed to do?" I raise my voice a little. Nothing has changed with Arleigh, she is the same stubborn person who refuses to listen to anyone else's argument if it doesn't agree with her's.

"No shawn you don't get to play the victim. On that night I lost everything but what was worse was the fact that I had lost you. The only person who had ever stood by my side, been my best friend and then learned to love me; the only person that I felt safe enough around to let my guards down, the first person in a long time to show me they cared. I told you when my mum died that I lost both my parents but not long after I met you, and for a long time that was enough to fill the void I hadn't even realised had formed inside me. But then you left, you just decided you didn't want me in your life, and I know that's my fault because I pushed you away and I told you that I didn't want to be around you because I was scared that you would choose first and I thought it would make it easier if I decided but it didn't. And then when I was in hospital I thought you were going to come and visit me , even after what I had said earlier that day, if you loved me you still would have come but you didn't and I realised that even if I pushed you away you still chose not to come, you chose you didn't want me anymore and I want to know why."

Her words sting like salt in a deeply cut wound that took a hold over my whole body. I never thought of it like that but now it seemed to make sense. While I had my family Alriegh had been alone, I knew that much already but I forgot that just like she had been around me I had always been around her. The thought never crossed my mind that Arleigh may be missing me as much as I was missing her. I remember seeing her sad and lost the first few times I had spotted her when they had moved in but then never around me. Alreigh just said that I had filled a void for her. For a long time I had distracted her of the fact that she was alone without even being aware of it. Having me being ripped out of her life must have been ten times more torturous than how she had been taken away from me. I still saw both my parents daily, my sister, and my friends. No one had stopped loving me after what I had done but Arleigh had lost the last person who loved her, or so she thought she did. I want to tell her that I haven't stopped thinking about her, that not a day goes by when I don't regret that night, that after all that has happened I only learned that I couldn't stop loving her no matter how many times my friends told me to get over it because it was a stupid high school relationship that was never meant to last. But I can't find the words, I would never know how to say the things I want to say to her the most.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs

48 notes · View notes

studpuffin · 7 years ago

Photo

The World As We Know It: Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Time was frozen.

Eddie swayed on the spot. His brain sounded like the television when the antenna broke. A loud, hissing, magnetic sound that blocked out everything else happening around him. He blinked hard, hoping that it would all go away when he opened them.

One…two…three

Eddie opened his eyes and suddenly everything was loud. People are shouting. Ben was chucking rocks at zombies, Stan and Mike flanking him, standing on top of the car. Bill and Bev were both still holding Eddie’s arms.

Richie was staring at Eddie, blood still splattered on his face.

And his mother was still dead on the street.

Someone was screaming. As Eddie’s brain caught up with his surroundings he realized it was him. He shook himself free of Ben and Bev and launched himself at Richie, knocking him to the ground.

Richie gasped as the air left his body, “Eddie what the f-”

“You killed her!” Eddie shrieked, beating his fists on Richie’s chest, “You fucking killed her!” his voice went shrill and hysterical as he gripped the front of Richie’s t-shirt, “I left your mom and dad fucking alive and you killed my fucking mom without a second thought!”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s wrists and rolled them over so he was pinning him to the floor, “She was gonna kill you Eds! Rip your guts out of your chest! Eat you for breakfast!” he rolled again, pulling Eddie against his chest, “She was gonna kill you and I can’t let you fucking die!”

Frustrated tears rolled down Eddie’s face. He wanted to be mad at Richie. Hell, he wanted to be furious. But Richie was right. Sonia would have killed Eddie had she gotten the chance and Richie had saved his life. He sniffled, half-heartedly hitting Richie in the chest again, “You saved me…You didn’t need to save me. It’s like you always need to be the hero or something” he gave him another weak shove, “You don’t always need to save me. I could have…I could have done it,” he whispered, letting his hands fall into his lap as a fresh wave of tears overcame him.

Richie pushed Eddie’s sweat-damped hair off his forehead, “I don’t doubt you could baby…” he whispered, “I…I panicked. She was coming at you and all I could think about was losing you forever…and I just…I couldn’t let that happen.” Richie pressed his lips gently to Eddie’s forehead, smiling as Eddie started to calm in his arms, “You are so fucking strong Eds. Besides, you save my skinny, stupid ass all the time. Remember that time Bowers broke my glasses and you punched him in the stomach so hard he puked?”

Eddie gave him a watery smile, “And then you started laughing and snorted blood from your nose bleed all over the floor.”

Richie grinned, standing and taking Eddie with him, “Yeah. Or the time that you took care of me for a whole week when I had the flu,” he laced his fingers with Eddie’s and started walking them back toward the van, “I couldn’t survive without you Eddie Spaghetti,” he squeezed his hand as they carefully picked their way through the streets, avoiding the viscera and dirt covering the streets.

As they reached the van, Mike looked up at them. There was a scratch on his cheek and he looked tired, but he managed a small smile, “We figured out somewhere we can go for shelter.”

“Great,” Richie threw an arm protectively over Eddie’s shoulder, “Where is it?”

Mike shifted on the floor of the van, making space for Richie to sit next to him, “Out on the edge of the farm, there’s this empty holding shed I completely forgot about. No one’s been out there to use it in years,” he tapped his pen against the hand-drawn map he was working on, “It isn’t huge, but it should fit us and all of our stuff.”

Richie nodded as Eddie leaned over his shoulder, “You should add landmarks,” Eddie pointed to the map, “That way we can all find it and makes copies in case we get separated.”

Mike grinned, “Eddie that’s genius,” he sketched a couple of markers onto the paper. There were several moments of tense silence, until Mike looked up, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Eddie sat quietly as they drove to the Hanlon’s farm. Saving Richie, watching his mother die, and having a hardcore emotional breakdown had left him feeling drained. His fingers were tangled with Richie’s, holding as tightly as he could. Richie ran his fingers gently through his hair.

“You ok?”

Eddie snorted, “Am I ok? Fuck you.” he mumbled, “No Richie I’m not ok. I’m so fucking far from ok right now,” he curled under Richie’s arm and buried his face in his neck, “I’m so fucking tired and scared and I feel like I can’t breathe and that the entire universe is falling to pieces and I just…I…fuck….” he broke off with a small sob and hugged him tighter. Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s hair and sighed softly. He smiled a little and pulled Eddie closer.

Eds. His Eddie. His best friend. The one he could always count on to get into trouble with him, and the only person he’d ever been in love with. He wanted to ask Eddie out so badly and had had a plan all set and everything.

And then the world had gone to complete and utter shit and all they were left with were these small moments. He clutched Eddie’s hand tighter, pulling him closer to his chest as they looped down the dirt road to the Hanlon’s farm. Eddie’s quiet sniffles tore at Richie’s heart.

He didn’t mean to kill Sonia. He just didn’t want Eddie to get hurt.

And she was as good as dead anyway.

Late that night, Richie sat in the loft of the abandoned farm, looking out at the expanse of woods before them and started to accept the facts. He was going to die, and probably soon at this rate. He was going to die and he had never gotten a chance to tell Eddie how he felt. Why bother now? Why let themselves get attached to each other, to having someone for comfort and safety, only to have one of them die or get infected.

He couldn’t have Eddie just to lose him. So better not to have him at all.

A creek of the stairs made him turn his head. He smiled a little at the sight of Eddie, usually clean clothes rumbled and dirty and hair ruffled from the chaos of the day.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hi Richie,” His voice sounded strange. Too quiet and soft, like he was trying not to cry again.

Richie’s brows furrowed in concern, “Hey c’mere,” he held open his arms and Eddie gratefully crawled into them, “Talk to me.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s stupid.”

“No time like the present.”

And he’s right. Eddie knows he’s right but he still can’t bring himself to force the words out.

I am so so in love with you, you idiot. And now we’re about to die and I’m never going to tell you

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he silently slips his hand into Richie’s as angry, frustrated tears burn in the corners of his eyes.

“Look at me Eds.” Richie took his chin gently, “Look at me.”

Eddie let his eyes flick up to Richie’s, heart leaping into his chest.

“I wanna kiss you while I still have a chance,” Richie whispered.

Eddie gasped softly, “Richie…” he murmured, “I…Do it.”

Richie gave him a familiar smile, one that made Eddie’s heart instantly feel warm. For a fleeting moment, they were able to forget where they’re sitting and what’s happening outside the wooden walls of the barn. Richie leaned in, hand coming to cup Eddie’s face. Eddie gulped, looking up into Richie’s deep brown eyes.

And then Richie kissed him. He kissed him and the stress and anxiety melted away leaving Eddie trembling as tears spilled down his face again. He gripped the front of Richie’s t-shirt and pulled him closer, heart skipping again as Richie’s arms circled his waist. His eyes fluttered shut as the familiar scent of Richie mixed with the new sensation of kissing him.

It was electric.

Slowly they broke apart, warm breath ghosting over each other’s cheeks.

“Richie I-”

“Eds this wasn’t-”

“I didn’t picture-”

“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen,” they both managed to spit out at the same time. Richie grinned, as Eddie blushed, hiding his face in Richie’s neck. Both boys giggled softly, and for a moment they were able to feel almost normal. They could have been sitting up in the main barn of the Hanlon’s farm after everyone went to sleep, or curled up on Eddie’s window sill together.

Everything was perfect.

Until a body came crashing against the door.

Tag List: @aizeninlefox @tinyarmedtrex @reddie-for-anything @reddiepop href="https://tmblr.co/mpO7RbaCXkvNKRXXdE63b1Q" target="_blank">@dyslexictozier @sunflowertozier @richietoaster @totaltozier @richardxtozier @jem-carstairs-is-perfection

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #reddie fan fiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #The World As We Know It #zombies #I UPDATED

13 notes · View notes

potentiala · 7 years ago

Text

Soudam Week: Day 1 - Non-Despair School Life

Hi! This my first work for Danganronpa, and I thought’s be a nice break from GM and Voltron as a whole, so please enjoy! <3 (and yes, all of these will be posted on my AO3)

This was utter nonsense.

Pure, unadulterated tomfoolery in his opinion. And, considering it was the opinion of the Supreme Overlord of Ice and future ruler of this pathetic mortal realm, it should’ve mattered a great deal. Yes.

Should’ve.

But against his very vehemnet protests, this... menial task was still thrust upon him. Him! The Great Gundham Tanaka! This was an insult, an outrage . And yet...Gundham didn’t dare refuse. For fear, cold blooded and rabid, fear of one homeroom teacher Chisa Yukizome. A truly monstrous mortal that even Gundam wished never to anger. Not again.

Never again.

So here he was, the cursed offspring between an Angel and a Devil, having to ask a classmate of all things for assistance. Which was, as Gundham had previously stated, utter nonsense. The classmate in question was one Kazuichi Souda. The Super Highschool Level Mechanic.

And someone Gundham would’ve rather not interacted with.

N-Not because that mortal with the wonderfully hellish teeth and the sharp, glitteringly intelligent eyes had caught his own all-seeing eye! N-Nor the fact that even his wonderful Dark Devas of Destruction had deemed such a mortal worthy of their nuzzles and affections. Or e-even how that loud, boisterous laughter can bring even his all-powerful ice heart to a steady melt . Wait-

Was had he been talking about?

Oh! Right! Final projects. Yes, the projects... which are final . Those projects. Ahem, anyway, Gundham needed Souda’s help. You see, he project was to design a product that would assist one in Ultimate Talent. His other classmates had steadily finished their’s over the past months.

The Always Hungry One had created a sort of portable sandwich holder. The Devil Dancer had invented a speaker that shouted recorded insults at those the machine recognized, greatly distressing the Timid One. The Red Eyed One and the Baby Faced One had collaborated on a project and produced a sort of decoding device. Naturally, the Great Gundham Tanaka had came up with something even better.

A cage!

But not just any cage, this was a cage that could read the wait of an animal and adjust it’s diameters to fit the warrior properly. It was ingenious! So when his homeroom teacher had informed him that the idea and the sketches he made weren’t going to be enough to pass, the Overlord of Ice was begrudgingly forced to seek out the Sharp Toothed One for assistance on creating a prototype.

But that was proving rather difficult.

Hope’s Peak was a huge palace with many twists and turns, not to mention seemingly infinite lab space for each of its students. So Gundam was forced to run back and forth in an increasingly frustrating search for the mechanic. It was then that his cursed ears picked up the distant siren song of a radio.

“I don’t wanna talk about it...I don’t wanna think about it.”

It was coming somewhere further down the hall of endless garages. Could it be? Gundham decided to take a chance all follow the call of the radio enchantress.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

All the papers and folders and pamphlets containing help information pertaining to Gundam’s project suddenly turned moist under his palms. There! Underneath the voice trapped in the radio, was that-? Gundham’s heart leapt to his throat.

Beating far too fast for something made of ice.

“Even when you’re next to me, it’s not the way I’m picturing.”

Souda.

Gundham knew it, felt it. Underneath all that noise, was Souda’s voice. Quietly following along the song with near masterful accuracy. NOt quite melodious, but far from off-key. Just right and wonderful . This...actually came as a shock to the Ultimate Breeder.

He’d never heard something quite like it.

Yes, he, the Great Gundham Tanaka and Super Highschool Level Animal Breeder, had never heard Souda’s voice like this . N-Not that he had actively listened into the Sharp Toothed One’s conversations! No! Not at all! I-It just seemed out of the ordinary for someone like Souda.

Which only flustered Gundham even more.

Clearly , this was previously unknown side of Souda. Side no one knew. Until now. And he, Gundham Tanaka, now knew something about Kazuichi Souda that no one else did! Not even his beloved ‘soul brother.’ It made the Overlord of Ice preen up just the slightest bit in pride as he ventured even closer to that soft voice.

“You wanna be friends forever?”

Then it hit him.

The Sharp Toothed One...He would most likely detest the idea of Gundham’s knowledge of this particular behavior of his. Which sent his cold heart plummeting to the deep, dark pit of Gundham’s stomach.

His mood coming down with it.

“I can think of something better.”

It was because of the She-Cat.

That’s all Gundham was able to decipher from the absolute anomaly that was Kazuichi Souda. Apparently, the Sharp Tooth One was under the misunderstanding that he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, held romantic... affections for the Dark Queen.

Which was far, far from the truth.

While it was true that the She-Cat was a strong and welcomed ally in his plans for world-domination, she was just that. A trusted and valued ally . Souda... Souda was different. Souda was the twist in his stomach and the worrying falter of his heart. Souda was sleepless nights dreaming of dyed hair in his hands and restless mornings filled with vain efforts to try not to stare too much at still sleep-soft expressions on Souda’s face. Sonia was stability and simplicity. Souda was nothing like that.

Souda was chaos.

“I’m just feeling low, feeling low.”

And Gundham loved it.

It was because of the chaos Souda created within him that the Overlord of Ice could see no other being worthy of sharing his path. No other person qualified to rule the world by his side.

But that just wasn’t meant to be.

“Sleeping here right next to me...”

For even he, the Great Gundham Tanaka, was subject to the cruel mistress that is fate. And that mistress had foretold of Souda’s doomed feelings for the She-Cat. But, what was once a strained, uncomfortable relation, had now grew into a fairly stable friendship.

Leaving him behind.

“But will you ever mess with me?”

It was Invading Black Dragon Cham-P that woke him from his stupor.

Rubbing against his commander’s poisonous cheek softly, as if to raise his spirits. An action Gunham took full advantage of to pet his beloved Deva in a similarly caring manner. The other Devas eventually emerging from the Angel’s scarf to see what else they could do to combat their commander’s sudden sadness.

San-D’s eyes glinting dangerously.

That alone should have tipped Gundham off. But thoughts of his rotting relationship thwe Souda and the Sharp Toothed One himself had made the Overlord of Ice weak , soft. As they always did. If only for a moment, a second .

Which was all the Devas needed.

Shooting from their home in the Angel’s scarf with all the power of true hellbeasts. Sprinting, as if their lives depended on it, the second their paws hit the cool floor. Gundham jolting in shock. Wait! No!

They were going to Souda!

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Gundham could only run after them in a near-mad dash. They couldn’t alert the Sharp Toothed One to his presence! Not when he was so unprepared! But the Devas’ plan had worked. In forcing the pair’s meeting to occur faster, Gundham’s misery was altogether forgotten.

“No...”

Souda’s voice was but a soft howl as the Devas disappeared around the corner and into Souda’s open garage. Gundham barely able to skid to a halt at the edge of the doorframe. His, now frantic heart, almost beating out of the cage in his chest. The music was louder now, as was Souda’s voice.

Oddly comforting.

A soft squeaks of his Devas finally gave Gundham the push he needed to peer inside Souda’s garage. And, for the second time that day, the Great Gundham Tanaka was once again shocked.

It was...different than what he had imagined.

With large windows taking up nearly half the massive walls. Letting a great deal of natural light that made even the greasiest tools and half-finished projects sparkle. Like a magic spell, the garage was suddenly transformed into a room full of secret runes and treasures Gundham immediately longed to understand. Large metal shelves piled with current works and spare parts. And there, near the largest work table in the center of that sunlit scene, was the Ultimate Mechanic himself.

Souda.

“But at least i got you in my head, oh yeah...”

And, like casting a magic spell, Gundham was entranced. Souda stood, with his back to the door, his long pink hair tied together in a single, glorious braid flowing between his lean shoulders. The soft, curling ends just fluttering above the small of his back treacherously. Gundham’s bandaged fingers twitching to the sudden urge to wrap his fist around the velvet rope of hair and tug the mechanic closer to him. The Overlord of Ice had seldom seen Souda’s hair like this, only appearing every seasonal heat wave or so. But, apparently, the Sharp Toothed One seemed to prefer to bind his hair whilst he worked, his beanie long since discarded. Oh Dear Dark Gods.

Gundham really liked his hair like that.

“At least I got you in my head, in my head.”

Oh vexed vixen! Just as his all-seeing eye had trailed down the shining length of Souda’s tetresses, the little minx moved! No. No, moved wasn’t the right word for it. Not when Gundham felt a cursed heat spread throughout his face. Oh no.

He was dancing.

Swaying his hips lazily side to side as he sang along to the radio. Gundham’s eyes following every movement. The garishly yellow jumpsuit was gone. Leaving the Souda in nothing but a stained white tank top and equally smudged jeans. The outfit clinging to his muscled frame in such a way it was downright sinful.

And wonderfully so.

“Sleepovers in my head, oh yeah…”

As if that wasn’t already dangerous to Gundham’s health, Souda’s shoulders also adapted that same torturous swaying motion. Making the long braid of pink hair dangle teasingly behind him. Souda then moved to the short side of the table, taking a long stream of mechanized joints along with him.

Still never catching sight of the Ultimate Breeder.

Much to Gundham’s relief, as his heart felt as if it would burst from the sheer pressure of this...this trance the Sharp Toothed One had him under. Damn it, he had underestimated the sheer amount of demonic energy this lusty creature had! The Overlord of Ice was surely paying for such negligence now.

Especially as he saw the Devas inching closer to Souda.

“But at least I got you in my head...”

The Overlord of Ice had to furiously bite his tongue in order to resist the urge to call them back to him and indefinitely alerting Souda to his presence. Unable to do anything except look desperately into their hellfire eyes and beg them not to reveal themselves. But they just sat there, near the other end of the table. Staring at him as if to say, “Give it a chance.”

A chance?

What would a chance do? Gundham didn’t need a chance! He need Heaven and Hell in his hands for Souda to even consider him, the Great Gundham Tanaka, as a...a romantic partner! He needed bend the very fabric of reality to-

San-D bared her teeth.

Tiny and flat, they didn’t look dangerous. But Gundham knew better. San-D was a fierce and powerful warrior who commanded both fear and respect amongst all of Gundham’s trusted army. As such, Gundham valued the pull of her devilish instincts to a very high regard.

This was one such case.

She looked at him and bared her fangs with all the esaperated anger of a third wheeling friend. Forcing Gundham to, once again, re-evaluate his situation. Casting Souda under his all-seeing eyes once more.

The Ultimate Mechanic's body was leaning over the table, fussing over another joint in the machine. The end of the screwdriver pinched between those magnificently sharp teeth, the music long forgotten as he zeroed in on the offending part. Gaze sharp enough to dismantle the project before him with his mind, but hands skilled enough to fix any and all errors. No matter how miniscule.

Gundham swallowed.

It was that razor-sharp focus and tunneled passion that drew Gundham to Souda in the first place. In addition to the vicious teeth and cackling laughter. And, ever since the, thing have only gotten worse and worse between the two. Much to the Overlord of Ice’s dismay. But...perhaps...it wasn’t too late.

Souda cheered.

The sound shocking Gundham from his place at the door frame as Souda blessed the bright, mechanical room with the warmth of his smile. Having been proved victorious in correcting whatever foul error dare cross his path. Sharp toothed and gleaming in the light. He had a smudge of oil on his cheek. Under his left eye, with blobs of it sticking to the part of his hair too short to make it into his braid. Flopping around his face and fluttering up into the hair. The sun’s light only further highlighting how soft and achingly touchable it was. That’s it.

That was the final straw.

“In my head...”

Gundham looked to San-D and the rest of his beloved Devas. Nodding to them, he gave his permission to continue with their plan. And just like that, the Devas quickly ran up to souda and pounced on the unsuspecting mechanic. All while their commander busied himself with flattening down his hair and straightening his scarf. Souda screaming as the Four Dark Devas quickly took hold of the object of their commander’s pining.

“In my he-GAH!”

“Bwahaha! Foolish mortal, leaving your guard down while I reside within this world? Truly, this is another victory for the Great Gundham Tanaka!”

#soudamweek2018 #soudamweek #danganronpa #dangan ronpa #goodbye despair #soda kazuichi #tanaka gundham #soudam

15 notes · View notes

thegreatpikminzx789 · 7 years ago

Text

In the Deepest Darkness | Etrian Odyssey II Untold: The Fafnir Knight Fanfiction | A Dangerous Fear

So remember my EO Prompt I had with @theshatteredrose with the CtS guild? Yeah, figured I'd give it an actual story, since it's going to be part of the timeline of EO stories that I have in store. This is just one chapter out of five for this particular story, since this will be a full-fledged story on my Wattpad and Archive of Our Own accounts, and will take place after the Gungnir Guild defeats Ur-Child.

Plus I needed to post more on my Tumblr, it’s barely had any use since I had it...

Thank goodness I read through CtS before continuing to write this... Anyways, here ya go.

Summary: The Gungnir Guild had just defeated the labyrinth's most dangerous creature, and had just entered town. Before the guild can even settle on their hard earned victory, a Ronin runs past them in order to get deeper into Lagaard. Although explorers running around at night wasn't unusual, something felt off about the Ronin more than just his appearance... The Highlander and Fafnir Knight advance to find the Ronin and ask him a couple of questions.

Story based on a CtS Prompt from @theshatteredrose. Be warned as it contains spoilers from Etrian Odyssey 2 Untold's final DLC.

"Another day in the labyrinth completed... God, that Ur-Child was such a pain in the ass to fight." Flavio complained, feeling incredibly worn out after the guild had defeated the strongest monster in the labyrinth. Fafnir turned to his best friend and patted his shoulder.

"No kidding... Seems like the Overlord had his reasons for sealing it away while he did." Fafnir admitted, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

"Regardless, now that the damned thing is dead, and we can relax for the night. Right Arianna?" Chloe asked the Sovereign, as she nodded her head an clasped her hands together.

"Yes, exactly. We also need to replenish our supplies for our next trip into the labyrinth, so I'm kinda glad we managed to defeat the Ur-Child at a reasonable time."

"Agreed. But first, let's head back to the inn and-"

"Pardon me!"

"Huh-?!"

"Wha?!"

A male Ronin accidentally bumped into the Highlander and Fafnir Knight, as he continued to move forward, running at a pace Korey thought he would not see from a worried explorer. "...The fuck? Was that a Ronin just now?" Korey inquired, scratching his head as he had to wonder why the Ronin had ran past them.

"It almost looked like he was in a rush. Or he was likely fleeing from something. Either way, someone's gotta check up on him." Bertrand continued, looking at Fafnir, silently asking him what they should do. Fafnir seemed to understood him and faced where the Ronin went.

"Korey, you and I will ask the Ronin. Everyone else can wait here. Better make sure we don't overwhelm him with out numbers." Fafnir announced, as the Highlander nodded.

"Alright, we'll be right back." The brown haired Highlander addressed, as Fafnir and Korey ran in the direction the Ronin went. Although they've been through Lagaard many times before, trying to think of where he could have went was quite a different story.

They eventually found him, resting near the stairs to the bar. When the Ronin heard footsteps, he quickly took out his weapon and pointed at the duo who was approaching him. "Don't come any fucking closer!"

The knight and highlander stopped where they were. Korey noticed that the Ronin had taken severe damage, thankfully, wasn't to the point where he was bleeding, but it was quite obvious just from looking at him. "Your injured, aren't you?"

The Ronin's expression changed when Korey asked him. He thought it wouldn't be obvious if he ran faster, but he was quite breathless from the running he did. The Ronin tried to open his mouth to ask them a question, but the Highlander seemed to respond faster than he can ask.

"I'm Korey, and this is Fafnir, the leader of the Gungnir Guild. We saw you run by us just now, and we wanted to make sure you were alright..." Gungnir Guild... Weren't they the ones who took down that mechanical being in Heaven's Keep?

The Ronin lowered his weapon, laying back against the wall behind him. "Is it alright for us to come closer?" Fafnir inquired.

"...Yes."

Gaining the Ronin's trust, the knight and highlander approached him to look at his injuries. "...The name's Shen, by the way. Lynus has told me about the two of you before. I apologize for not recognizing you by name." He uttered, just enough that Korey and Fafnir would hear.

"It's fine, Shen. Though may I ask, how did you receive these injuries? These don't look recognizable from any FOEs we've encountered."

Shen looked at the Fafnir Knight, who had inquired him. "I've... uh, how do I explain this..." He started, trying to find the right words. The silence between the three of them was understandable, as Korey nor Fafnir wanted to rush the Ronin on his words.

"...Have you ever found that there was more to the labyrinth than just the thirtieth floor?"

More than just the thirtieth floor...? That was honestly baffling to both Korey and Fafnir. What did he even mean by that?

"I don't recall hearing anything of the sort, cause we were fighting Ur-Child just a couple of hours ago..." Korey replied, as Fafnir concurred with the Highlander. There was no possible way they would've missed stairs to this new floor Shen was speaking of.

"Well, there were rumors that there is a thirty-first floor that has no monsters whatsoever. Just a bunch of mysterious F.O.E's that move randomly." Shen articulated, getting surprised looks from the Knight and Highlander.

"No normal enemies? A floor literally filled with only random moving F.O.E's already sounds problematic, but the fact that there's no normal enemies is very worrying... How is such a thing even possible?" Fafnir was rather perplexed by this as much as Shen and Korey was.

"Exactly what I wonder, as well. But, when I was entering the final room, I found something that I would only describe as... pure malice and darkness. Here."

The Ronin took out a piece of paper and handed it to the Highlander, who motioned Fafnir to come look at it with him. Unfolding the huge amount of paper that was folded, something on the paper caused Fafnir and Korey to freeze in place. There, on the large sheet of taped paper...

...Well, how can he even describe it? It was still just a sketch, yet Shen managed to capture the image of what was residing within that floor, despite it showing signs of being drawn in a rush. Colored as well, despite the map making tools having a limited color palette.

"Wha-what even is this thing...? The ultimate evolution of the Ruler of Heaven?"

"The power of ruin and reckoning?"

Korey and Fafnir were honestly perplexed by the sheer fact that it looks so indescribable, and the sketch was not helping matters. Folding the paper away, Korey uttered to the Ronin before him. "Could it be connected to the Overlord's creations, somehow?"

"It could be, but I can't confirm this, as you guys dealt with him on your trip through Yggdrasil... And though I'm not sure what it's officially called, I decided to give it the name 'Ur-Devil'."

Silence befell the Knight and Highlander. This was truly some heavy news that Shen was dropping on them. Mere words weren't enough to describe the anger and confusion both Fafnir and Korey had been building up within them.

"So you're telling me that the Ur-Child, the one we have defeated, was not enough for the Overlord, and he decided to make another one?!" Shen simply shrugged in response to the Highlander's question. After all, the Overlord was dead, so it was kinda too late to ask him in person.

"Even then, that... thing, is too dangerous to let it live. But it's too powerful to battle it. It seems to be contained within that floor, but for how long? It might eventually break out, and just my guild alone might not survive the fight against it, and-"

Shen was stopped mid-sentence by Fafnir placing his hand on the Ronin's shoulder. He looked at the Fafnir Knight with worry on his face, something he hadn't had in some time. Fafnir took a deep breath, and decided that now was not the time to panic and question things.

"Relax, Shen. If we have faced the Ur-Child, we will be capable of defeating this Ur-Devil. But we'll require twice the preparation from when we entered to fight Ur-Child. Perhaps you can fight alongside us to ensure your guild's safety."

Fighting alongside the Gungnir Guild? Without his fellow guildmates? Shen only got more worried when Fafnir even mentioned that they will fight it, regardless of his warnings.

"F-Fafnir, are you sure about this? This Ur-Devil seems like it'd be an even tougher opponent than the Ur-Child! Are you really sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure. We may lose our lives, but the protection of Lagaard- no, the world, is what we're striving for. If we don't stop it, no one in the world may be capable of standing up to it. Isn't that right, Highlander?"

Both Fafnir and Shen looked towards the Highlander, who had been lost in thought for a bit before noticing that he was the center of attention. Regardless, Korey knew a threat as big as that must be eradicated, no matter how long it takes...

"...Yes. Where I came from, my Yggdrasil had a very similar threat that was willing to cause massive chaos to my world, and potentially more worlds had I fallen in battle against it. This Ur-Devil... Although it brings back painful similarities to the foe I despise, it must not be allowed to live. You even said it yourself, Shen. I'm willing to sacrifice everything to protect the world I love so much."

He couldn't believe it. Even though he had literally met the greatest known warriors in the Gungnir Guild, being asked to defeat the very foe that brought him into this predicament. It was weird, but if he had declined it, and his guild would find the very same floor he investigated...

"Korey... Fafnir..."

Shen fell silent again, giving some thought to his next move. Surely, he will be working along with the two famous warriors of the Gungnir Guild, but would he really risk it all? Was he really willing to die to protect those he cared and loved for...?

"...Alright, if you insist. We will prepare for it within a few days. I'll let you know when I am ready."

Korey and Fafnir couldn't hold back a smile, relieved that they'll be working together to defeat the Ur-Devil. "Thanks, Shen. Now, why don't you see Lynus about those injuries?"

Oh yeah. He was so busy conversing with the two that he had forgotten his own injuries. Didn't help that it still hurt as he pushed himself away from the wall, but pain was better than bleeding out where he stood in that floor he mentioned.

"...Fine. I suppose I'll see you later then." Shen breathed, as he began walking to the inn.

"Hey Shen..."

The Ronin looked back, as the Highlander continued to speak. "Make sure your guild doesn't know about the Ur-Devil. Wouldn't want them to risk their lives trying to defeat it. The less casualties, the better."

Not tell his own guildmates...? He already navigated the floor, and mapped it out of sheer safety, but... No, Korey was right. Better to have less casualties than having an entire guild wiped from history.

"That... is going to be very hard to do, but I'll try." Shen responded, continuing to make his way back to the inn.

"Man, things just keep piling up, don't they? This Ur-Devil seems like it won't stop til all of Lagaard knows its name." Fafnir sighed, scratching his head. Korey turned to face Fafnir, as he sighed as well.

"No kidding... And I thought the Yggdrasil Core would've been the most concerning of all things, much less, Ur-Child. But regardless, now that we know what happened, let's head back to our guild."

Fafnir nodded, as they wasted no time in running back to their guild, who had been chatting among themselves, until Arianna turned around and saw them return.

"Sir Fafnir, Sir Korey, you're back. How was the Ronin? Did you find out what happened to him?"

"Well you see..." Fafnir started, as he and Korey alternated sharing what they were told by Shen to the Guild. Korey even took out the piece of paper he got from Shen and unfolded it, showing it to the rest of the guild. Everyone was surprised at what its appearance, despite being sketched in a rush.

"So you mean to tell me, that the Overlord didn't make not one, not two, but THREE creations in an attempt at this 'eternal life' crap?" Bertrand spoke up as soon as Fafnir and Korey ended their explanation. The Highlander could only nod his head in response.

"My thoughts exactly, Bertrand. It's quite ridiculous how the Overlord still manages to befuddle us, even after we defeated him." Korey concurred, as he began to refold the paper once more.

"But, why? Why must there be something that's so dangerous that it has to be contained on a different floor...?" Ricky inquired, despite her perplexed face.

"Perhaps it was just needed. After all, this Ur-Devil crap reeks of similarities to Ur-Child." The War Magus attempted to answer the Millennium Girl's question.

"It must be... Though, we did manage to defeat his two previous creations, so I'm confident we can take out the Overlord's strongest creation." Fafnir confidently spoke, until Flavio sighed in annoyance.

"I dunno, Fafnir... This feels like it's putting way too much pressure on us." Flavio commented.

"Despite that pressure, we must press on. This will likely be our last mission together, so we must make it count by all means. Not just for us, or Shen, but for the world." Arianna chimed in, as Ricky seemed to face Flavio as well.

"Arianna's right. Despite the difficulty we're faced with, ignoring it will only bring about the deaths of casual explorers who might get TOO curious about that floor. Just like the Yggdrasil Core back in Etria: we simply can't ignore the dangers it may put to the world if it does escape."

Korey didn't even WANT to imagine what would become of Lagaard and the world should Ur-Devil escape from it's containment. It's name literally reeks of 'ragnarok'. The end of the world. He took a deep breath, and a face of determination appeared on the Highlander's face.

"Alright... Fafnir, Ricky, Bertrand, Flavio, Chloe, Arianna, let's give it all we've got when we are prepared to face it in battle. We'll show this Ur-Devil who the greatest guild in all of Lagaard can really do, and we'll protect my homeland and the world!"

"Yes. We must do it for the world's sake. I'll stand by you til the very end, Korey." Ricky's face beamed, despite the pressure of losing her life after a thousand years of sleep.

"Personally, I'm feeling rather nervous. But you guys are gonna need a Protector by your side. And I'll stick with you until the end." Bertrand concurred, as he smirked at Korey and Fafnir.

"This doesn't feel right, and I won't lie when trying to face something we don't know feels disastrous... But we aren't gonna let it get to us. Count me in, Korey and Fafnir." Flavio commented, despite being worried a few minutes earlier.

"Count Chloe in as well. Might as help somewhat with healing you guys." Chloe declared.

"Sir Fafnir, Sir Korey, Sir Flavio, Sir Bertrand, Miss Chloe, and Miss Ricky... I will lend you my support to the best of my ability. Together, we'll end this devil and bring peace to the world!" Arianna was the last one to give her support to the guild. And Fafnir couldn't be any prouder.

"Thanks, everyone... Let's head to the inn and prepare for that fateful day." Fafnir declared, determined with their final mission in mind.

Followed by an 'okay' from everyone, the Gungnir Guild began to head back to the inn, their original destination before Shen diverged their attention. They had to be prepared for it, even if they may have some restless nights. But they couldn't let it overwhelm them before their fateful battle. It wouldn't be allowed.

Fear can be a dangerous enemy...

#EO #Etrian Odyssey #Etrian Odyssey 2 Untold #EO Prompt #TheShatteredRose's OCs #Etrian Odyssey Untold #This has EO Untold characters because I feel like it #Guardian Guild

8 notes · View notes

thedefinitionofbts · 8 years ago

Text

A Thousand Centuries

Pairings: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate Au

Words: 5k

Description: A Seokjin soulmate au requested by @marsmellowl85

A/N: My first Jin fic!!!! Mars, thank you for always supporting my writing so enthusiastically. I hope you like this one!

Have you ever wondered if you were unknowingly looking for someone?

You were told as a kid that your perfect partner is out there somewhere. That one day they’ll come and take you away like a Disney prince or the male lead of every romantic movie, and that they would always love you for who you are, unconditionally. But as you grew older, you realized that the world is not that perfect dream-like fantasy and fairytales are just therapeutic stories, no more, no less. And that the existence of a soulmate, that thing that you’ve heard about since you were young and the idea that people continue to take delight in fantasizing over, is nothing but a simplistic adolescent dream.

You didn’t think it would be something you’d ever believe in, and certainly not after you grew out of daydreaming about fictional stories and imaginary scenarios. After all, it was just an idealistic concept, something that isn’t meant to be seriously considered because it went against all logic.

But then you met him.

A man as beautiful as the flowers that bloom in the middle of spring, their colors scattered throughout endless fields and vibrant meadows, telling centuries worth of emotions and memories that are as visceral as the ones located in that inexplicable place within yourself.

“Do you want to be partners?”

You lift your head to the source of the voice, eyes slowly tracing along the silhouette of the person standing next to you. He awaits patiently for your response, eyelids blinking gently as your lips part slowly at the sight of him.

“S-sure” You stutter, realizing you had been staring at him in silence for longer than you should have.

His face breaks into a gentle smile, one that makes your heart suddenly tug in a way that it has never done before. “Great! My name is Kim Seokjin.”

“Y/N” You reply lightly, still looking at him in mild disbelief.

He pulls up a chair and sits down next to you, the elegant scent of his cologne filling the air between you, instantly throwing you back to a dream you had experienced not too long ago, one in which you were wandering in a flower garden, holding the hand of a man whose face you could not see.

“I was thinking we could design a park” His voice cuts through your momentary lapse.

Your thought bubble bursts, and you’re back to realizing you’ve yet again been staring at him for longer than you should.

“A-a park?” You utter nervously, mentally scolding yourself for being so out of focus one the first day of Architecture class. This was very unlike you’re usual on-top-of-things self, and the professor had even mentioned just moments ago that this project would count for 50% of your final grade. In your defense, you also hadn’t planned on having the most popular guy in your year to ask you to be project partners.

“Yeah, like Central Park in New York City” He explains. The voices of the other students who were paired up in the classroom are drowned out completely as you observed the way he pulls a notebook and pen out of his backpack to make design plans and sketches. “I know it’s mostly landscape architecture, but I think we can get really creative with designing castles, bridges, fountains and other structural elements.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You manage to say without stuttering and making a fool out of yourself for once. “Central Park was what actually inspired me to major in architecture.” You confess, using it as more of a conversation filler than anything.

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyes light up and his mouth opens in astonishment. “Me too! My parents took me there for vacation when I was young, and it was amazing!”

His full body reaction surprises you, making you forget how to respond because you were wondering how in world his demeanor had changed from being calm and collected to something so…animated. You actually have to suppress an oncoming laugh, opting to just let out a small giggle instead.

“So we should probably get started as soon as possible,” You suggest, feeling much more comfortable now that he’s made you laugh so effortlessly.

He takes a second to ponder over your proposition. “Are you free this weekend?”

“Yeah”

“Great!”

…

Kim Seokjin was everything you had expected him to be. His soft and delicate features were physical traits that would be the object of envy for anyone who had the fortune of laying eyes on such a breathtakingly beautiful man, but his playful and uplifting personality revealed a duality that could only be described as fitting for someone so unique.

He was a man who carried a type of aura that gave off the undeniable impression that you’ve known him for a long, long time, like the scent of home or the warmth of companionship. And it made you feel like you finally understood what it meant to meet a person that you had an air of familiarity with, despite the fact that your encounter with him had happened only recently.

“We should start from the edges and work our way towards the center.” Seokjin says as the two of you sit the in studio with your sketches splayed out on the long table. The glass walls of the building were crystal clear, allowing the sunlight from outside to penetrate into the room as masterpieces were born out of boundless imagination.

“What do you think the theme of this section should be?” You inquire, peering over at the piece he was working on.

“Young earth at the beginning of time” He whispers, gazing at his roughly drawn garden of shrubbery and small plants.

“Born in the desolate ocean,” You read the little note scribbled in the corner of his drawing, tilting your head as you examine the artistic meaning behind the theme.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’ve sort of named this section of the park.”

You have a sudden flashback to a dimly lit cave, the atmosphere cold and damp. The rain outside is falling in sheets, with droplets twirling in the wild wind and dripping onto the frozen rocks. A human-like creature sits next to you hesitating to lean closer. You do not remember who it is, but you recall the feeling of him using his arms to embrace you, growing a human heart and learning how to love for the first time.

“I like it” You finally comment as your mind is brought back to the present.

“Oh good, I was kind of worried the idea would be too wacky for your taste.” He chuckles. “

“You would be worried about that?”

“Well, not that I would’ve doubted myself, because you know, my ideas are always brilliant.” He grins, exuding a kind of humorous confidence that you were just starting to get to know, but at the same time, you had sort of expected the exact response.

“I’m just surprised you chose me to be your partner of all people” You murmur, dropping your gaze shyly as you felt his eyes land on you, scrutinizing the way you were nervously biting your bottom lip.

“Well, you were the closest person in the room” He voices, not noticing the way his words made your heart drop like a stone being thrown in the water because he was too distracted by the his own design thoughts to pay attention to the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Oh…”

It was then that you felt the cathartic joy of finding that distant object of your yearning for the first time, only to be hit by the realization that no matter how close it was, it will always be just out of reach.

…

Do you know that you carry a perpetual feeling of loneliness despite being unaware of it?

Perhaps it stems from the ingrained yearning for something preordained that cannot be grasped, a set of emotions and memories so visceral that the even the time that carries them cannot help but to preserve such a gift through numerous centuries.

“Chaos”

You whip your head around to face Seokjin who had his eyebrows furrowed as he stares at his design for the next section of the park.

“A time in human history when things were sort of wild, and there were wars between empires that rose and fell.” He explains. “Making people even more dependent upon one another.”

You notice a distant sorrow manifest in your chest, or maybe it was always there and you were unaware of it until now, but Seokjin’s words ignite a constricting sensation to grip at your chest, one that makes the air in the room feel thin and insufficient. You vaguely see the figure of a man dying in your arms. The blood gradually seeping through his tattered soldier uniform makes you want to scream, but the faint smile on his face just before his eyes close tells you that was not the last time you would see him. And that thought somehow made everything ok.

You blink away the strange tears that are trying to form in your eyes. “I see that you’re trying to make this park sort of a walk through history.” You analyze with as steady of a voice as you can, attempting to piece together his relatively abstract ideas and making sense of it all.

“This is the section where we can put a castle on a hill and stone bridges arching over streams.” He turns to you enthusiastically.

You smile in return.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, noticing the tear quietly slipping down your face.

You quickly shake your head and reach up to wipe it away. “No, no, I was just thinking about a sad war movie I saw a couple of years ago.” You lie, sniffling one last time and averting your eyes for a quick second.

There’s a pause as he continues to gaze at you curiously, expression hard to read other than the gentle blinking of his eyelids.

“You must be hungry,” He suddenly states.

“What?” You breathe out in disbelief. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s late afternoon and neither of us have eaten all day.”

You glance over at the clock hanging in the studio, and to your utter surprise, t was almost 5pm.

“Should we call it a day then?” You query, turning your attention back to him who was already packing up the supplies.

“Definitely.” He confirms as he zips up his bag. You turn to do the same, but he isn’t finished talking. “Hey, do you want to come over for dinner?” You hear him ask as he continues to check that he’s packed everything.

Your heart skips a beat. “Umm, sure. Are you ordering take-out?”

He shakes his head. “I’m the resident chief in my group of friends.”

“Oh really” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “Am I suppose to just take your word for that?”

“Hey, just ask any of my buddies.” He defends. “They’ve all relied on me to feed them for years.”

It’s not that you would’ve rejected his offer anyways. Hell, he could be the worst cook in the world and you would still gladly eat anything he placed on the plate in front of you because it meant being with him for that much longer, which these days (or more like ever since you met him) you strangely harbored the urge to do.

You think it’s a just natural attraction, no different from any of your other crushes in the past, but of course you’re trying not to overanalyze the sudden onset of these mysterious flashback you keep on getting or the inexplicable feeling that washes over you whenever the stillness allows your thoughts to do as they please.

Seokjin drives the two of you to his apartment that he shares with two of his younger friends who are both, quote, immature little brats, end quote. Apparently they bicker all the time, but it’s mostly just the youngest that won’t seem to “let him live”.

“’Bout time you found yourself a girl” Jungkook comments the moment you and Seokjin step through the door. “At this age I was starting to worry you were going to die alone.”

“Ya!” Seokjin shouts at the boy lying on the couch with his eyes glued to the TV screen and hands wrapped around a game controller. “Show some respect or I’m not feeding you tonight.” He turns to you. “Please don’t take him seriously.”

You nod, feeling your face heat up just a tad bit because you honestly weren’t expecting such a blunt comment, even if it was in the form of a joke.

“Hi, you must be Y/N” Another person pops up from nowhere, he had light blonde hair and his eyes formed a pair of half moons as he smiled at you. “I’m Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you” You greet him.

“And the little brat over there is Jungkook” Seokjin adds, nodding towards the guy on the couch.

“Hey! I heard that” Jungkook snaps back, despite his attention still drawn towards the game flashing across the screen.

“Good” Seokjin shouts back.

“Don’t mind them two. This is completely normal.” Jimin reassures you, noticing how awkward you were feeling in such a situation.

“Oh wow…” You murmur, taking a deep breath. So Seokjin wasn’t kidding about the bickering, go figure.

Seokjin also wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was a good cook. His culinary skills turn out to be excellent, and his tastes are refined. He prepares a full course meal for the four of you, complete with side dishes that barely fit on their moderate sized dining table. All you can see in Jimin and Jungkook’s eager eyes as they stare at the food splayed out in front of them are how thankful they are to have Seokjin as an older brother figure, and it is then you are able to understand how good-natured their relationship is, despite the bickering.

“Noona, so are you and Seokjin hyung…” Jimin sneakily glances over to the kitchen where Seokjin was still finishing up the last dish, making sure he can’t hear what you guys are discussing.

“No, no” You violently shake your head, feeling your cheeks blossom into roses. “We’re just project partners.” You explain.

“Really…?” Jungkook butts in, clearly unconvinced according to the tone of his voice. “Hyung asked a girl to be his partner? Without any other intentions?” He crosses his arms and snorts. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I was the closest person in the room” You quickly interject, not knowing why you were getting so defensive. Perhaps it was a failed attempt at preventing your cheek color to deepen even more than it already was.

Jimin’s eyes disappear into crescents. “Kookie’s right, he usually stays away from girls because he doesn’t want to deal with unreciprocated feelings. Cause, you know, it’s hard not to fall for someone as handsome as hyung.”

“Please” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Let’s not boost his ego more than it already is.”

“What was that about my ego?” Seokjin’s voice makes all three of you jump in your seats as he walks up to the table with a pot of boiling stew.

“N-nothing” Jimin quickly says. “We were just talking about how admirable your confidence is.”

Seokjin’s eyes narrow as he looks from Jimin to Jungkook and back to Jimin. He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it slide because everyone was starving and ready to dig into the food before it gets cold.

“I’ll drive you home” Seokjin says as the two younger males are tasked with washing the dishes in the kitchen.

“It’s ok, I can just take the bus”

“That’s inconvenient and it’s late.” Seokjin insists, already grabbing his car keys.

The drive to your apartment is a silent one, sans Seokjin’s occasional comments on the project and the 3-D software that you’ll soon be using to make your rough sketches come to life.

You’re not really paying attention to all of the details because technology was never really your thing, and you’re mind is dozing off after a long day. Despite your half conscious state, you’re still entranced by the way he’s expertly controlling the steering wheel, the way he drives so smoothly and how safe it all makes you feel.

Before you know it, you’ve reached the destination.

“Umm, thanks for dinner” You say as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“No problem. I should be thanking you for putting up with those two.” Seokjin says, sighing and looking around as he debated how to phrase his next sentence. “So uh, maybe next time we could go out for dinner or something. Just you and I.”

For a moment you think you didn’t hear what he said correctly, but when you look up at him in surprise you notice a faint flush in his cheeks under the streetlight.

“Y-yeah, t-that would nice” You manage to respond, despite your heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Great! So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah”

And then you’re watching him drive off, wondering why all of this felt so familiar and so right like it’s happened before in some far off land or the distant past.

…

“So this castle you’re designing…” You trail off, eyes tracing over the 2-D blueprint of the structure Seokjin was designing at that very moment, his hand hovering in midair as he waits for you to finish your analysis. “What inspired such a layout?”

It wasn’t that you were purely curious about where he got the idea because you know it’s probably not that significant and if it were any other castle, you wouldn’t have even battered an eyelash, but this, this particular castle was all too familiar, in fact you think you’re becoming delusional for equating it with the one you saw in your dream the night before.

There’s a long pause as he tries to form a response. “I don’t know,” He ultimately says. “It kind of just came to me.”

You can practically sense that’s there’s more to it than he is choosing to explain, but he’s holding back for some odd reason.

“The secret passageway” You begin to point out, walking over to examine the tunnel that leads into the bedroom in more detail. “someone has used it to meet with their lover.” It’s a confident statement rather than a passing comment or even a question, and you have no idea what invisible force has compelled you to declare something so absurd with such certainty.

“The prince and his secret lover, a female warrior who was not allowed to be with him but eventually became his queen.” Seokjin turns to glance at you, his dark eyes unreadable, making you question if it was a coincidence he knew exactly what happened in your dream.

Time stills.

And you can see the lovers on a bridge, watching the sunset together as they’ve finally vowed to change the ways of the old where status decided who you could and could not love, to build a better kingdom and rule over its people with justice and equality. The man standing next to you is your king. He was the man your birth proclaimed you could never be with, and yet you are by his side.

You have been acquainted with this man numerous times, despite not being able to recall who he is or why he is altered and unchanged at the same time. He is reminiscent of the figure in all of your ephemeral hallucinations, the creature in the cave, the dying soldier….

Are they the same person? They can’t be… can they?

…

Kim Seokjin is sweet. He’s everything that is warm and inviting about a cozy home, the nostalgic tranquility of the calm sea at the brink of sunset, and he reminds you of dainty cherry blossoms in the spring, the way pink flower petals drift in the wind.

But Kim Seokjin is also humorous and lively, and he’s able to fill a room with his contagious laughter that initially seems like a mismatch to his elegant physical features, but makes him even more attractive and compelling.

You also find out he’s great at singing.

“Wow, I didn’t expect you to be good at so many things” You comment as you walk alongside him by the river after he had taken you out to dinner. The moon was bright on a clear evening, and the city lights were reflecting off of the dark water like dazzling gemstones.

“With a face like this?” He quickly does a modeling pose, and even under the guise of the night you can still see the self-satisfied look on his face.

You giggle. “What does looking good have to do with cooking and singing?”

He blinks blankly a couple of times, realizing his statement did in fact, not make any sense. “Aish, I said it at the wrong time.” He shakes his head in disappointment, making you laugh even harder.

“I’m not denying your good looks,” You say in between your muffled giggles.

“I’d be surprised if you were. I’m certified worldwide handsome.” He grins, and you playfully roll your eyes even though he probably can’t see anyways.

You smile and shake your head, not knowing why his arrogantly confident attitude comes off endearing and amusing when you know for a fact that if it were any other person you’d be annoyed by such a narcissistic proclamation.

Maybe you were just blindly infatuated, or maybe…

“You’re really beautiful, you know” His unexpected remark makes your heat skip a beat.

You turn to look at him not knowing what to say.

“You remind me of a lot of things I can’t make out.” He continues, and you notice he’s not looking at you but is instead staring at the starry sky.

“Seokjin…” You murmur, drawing his attention back toward you. You see his lips curve up slightly when his gaze lands on you.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” His statement makes your heart drop ever so slightly, and for once you’re glad there are no streetlights to illuminate the melancholic tint in your eyes.

Kim Seokjin is physically close yet so far away, and although all of your senses tell you he’s right there, well within reach, the imperceptible distance between the two of you remains unchanged.

And it makes you wonder if you’ll ever find what you are looking for.

…

The following section of the park was intended to transition into the modern world, so the next few weeks of brainstorming was dedicated to experimenting with different contemporary elements.

“A cityscape” You suddenly voice as the idea pops into your head. “What says modern-day more than a high-tech city? We can use metal wires to depict the skyline of a metropolis using abstract shapes analogous to those found in contemporary art.”

“That sounds like a great idea” Seokjin concurs. “We could add decorative lights so that the area is illuminated at night.”

You nod enthusiastically, and proceed to jump straight into sketching. You were imagining a mall area lined with trees that guided park goers towards the center, using the metal fencing as the foundation for the lights Seokjin had suggested.

“The cement sidewalks in this area of the park are like empty city streets.” He comments as he hovers over your drawing, examining the newly conjured shapes on your sketch board.

“Empty city streets...” You echo slowly, seeing the exact scene he was describing in the back of your mind.

A man is holding a bouquet of baby blue flowers, wearing a perfectly iron suit as he gets out of his car. You don’t see his face but you know that he’s smiling wider than the Pacific Ocean, and your heart is swelling as you begin to make your way towards him. Then there are lights and the sharp squeak of tires against the pavement, and everything goes black.

“Y/N?” Seokjin’s voice brings you back to the sketch.

“Huh?” You realized you had spaced out again.

“I was just wondering if you had any ideas on what to put in the center of the park.” He says. “It’s probably going to be the most important section. The one that ties everything together.”

“The center?”

He was right. The center is what the two of you have been building up to, and whatever piece you decide to put there will ultimately define the meaning of the park, the meaning of the story your architectural elements were trying to convey.

Normally it would be pretty difficult to come up with such an essential portion, but you had a pretty good idea of exactly what should be placed in the center.

…

By the end of the semester, you and Seokjin had completed the entire park. It was breathtakingly magnificent, and even the professor was extremely impressed by everything the two of you had put so much time and effort into crafting, even referring to it as one of the greatest he’s seen in all his years teaching an upper division architecture course.

“A walk through a thousands centuries.” Seokjin sighs as he gazes proudly at the finished design displayed on the screen.

“It turned out really good,” You agree, smiling softly.

“I’d never thought I’d say this, but my favorite part is the sculpture you designed for the center piece.”

His compliment puts a satisfied and sentimental smile on your face. You’re eyes turn towards the precise piece that he was still examining, its three dimensional shape even more mesmerizing now that it was projected on the big screen.

The piece that you had designed was the culmination of your flashbacks and dreams from the past semester, a tangible portrayal of everything that you had felt but could not put into words or explanations. It was a statue of a round time portal, one that faces an area of planetary alignments dancing across the cosmos on one side and two faceless people standing in each other’s embrace on the other.

“What was the inspiration behind it?” Seokjin’s voice cuts through your brief lapse, and you realized it was the first time he’s asked you the same question you had been asking about his designs. Turning your attention towards him, you notice that he’s looking at you in a way he seems to have never done before, like he’s truly seeing you for the first time. He is exclusively focused on you in that moment, and truthfully you kind of wish he wasn’t waiting so intently for your response because it makes you too nervous to admit the real motivation behind your work.

You had actually considered the idea kind of silly, and you didn’t really know what compelled you to design such a structure, but the idea had taken shape throughout your semester spent with Seokjin and although part of you wants to brush off that strange feeling of overwhelming emotions you’re hit with when you are with him, it was a calling that spoke to your heart rather than your mind to create such a representation of what the park in its entirety meant to you.

“It’s just something that sort of hit me out of the blue,” You voice nonchalantly, clearing your throat because the room was awfully silent and you could literally hear the pounding of your heart.

“What are you going to call it?” He asks softly, voice almost inaudible.

Your breathing pauses, and it was like all of your indiscernible, frenzied thoughts had been set aside to make room for one thing only.

“Reincarnated to be together.” You whisper, not in complete control of where your words were coming from, where such an impression had manifested into tentative form. Your mind might forget, but your heart will always remember.

“One day we suddenly remembered the past.” You hear the melodic tone of Seokjin’s voice dance over to your eardrum, sending a shock wave coursing through your veins.

Seokjin is rooted in place as he finally realizes the one thing that had eluded him all along. He had been searching all this time, for the girl whose soul was hidden behind all of his designs, but only now has he realized it was you. The stories that traversed over centuries of human kind, the fate written in the stars at the beginning of the universe was the unbroken link between of the two of you.

“You’re him,” You breathe out as your eyes flicker up to meet his, the identity of the faceless person in your flashbacks finally coming to light.

“Sorry” He finally whispers. “I should have known.” His parted lips linger as his gaze trace down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You look into them, eyes that are conveying everything he doesn’t need to put into words because you already know.

“We found each other,” He murmurs, and that’s the last thing you hear before feeling his tender lips meeting yours, closing the gap that you had thought would never be conquered.

The feeling that you know all too well, the same motion you’ve felt many times over, like artistic brushstrokes on a clean canvas waiting for millennia of stories to unfold, crafting the masterpiece that it was always meant to create, a destiny that will always be fulfilled.

Kim Seokjin kisses you like he’s been waiting for lifetimes to do so. He caresses your cheek like he’s been searching for you since the beginning of time and he holds you in his gaze like you’re the only thing he can see because he was born to love you and reborn to find you in every century he has been alive.

“Until civilization is destroyed once again, On the first day after a thousand centuries In the Garden of Eden we’ll stand side by side And laughingly watch the sun be extinguished.”

...

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bangtan bookclub #btswriters #sfwbangtan #seokjin scenarios #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #jin #requested #Thank you Mars! 😘#lots of cheese #Just in time for Jin's birthday #this story was actually inspired by a Mayday song of the same name :)#and the last part is a translation of the last verse #the center piece of the park is inspired by the album cover for Illenium - Leaving #the one that was on Jungkook's spotify playlist hehe ;)

208 notes · View notes

tessatechaitea · 5 years ago

Text

Cerebus #4 (1978)

Elrod! So soon? Be still my quivering loins!

I may not have understood a lot of Dave Sim's historical references when I read began reading this series in my early twenties but I sure as hell got all of his Looney Tunes references! I read the Elric books the summer after my first year of college. I was eighteen. I would have begun reading Cerebus a year or two later. I was definitely reading it by 1992 when I was volunteering with the Santa Clara Junior Theater helping backstage because I passed the first Cerebus phone book around to anybody I could convince to read it by telling them about the characters stowing away on a ship and hiding in some barrels where one of the characters says, "Nobody here but us mice!" and Elrod pipes up with, "Squeak, I say, squeak!" Goddammit that still makes me chuckle. That was my long-winded and autobiographical way of saying that I understood the Elrod/Elric parody! I sometimes think of the first 25 issues of Cerebus as being less than the rest of the series. I suppose because they're a lot of individual stories coming just before the huge 25 issue High Society story arc, they can seem trifling and inconsequential. But we're only on Issue #4 and we've already been introduced to Red Sophia and Elrod of Melvinbone, two of the series most iconic characters. And examples of what Dave Sim does so well: characterization, parody, and mimicry. Sure, Red Sophia is basically just an exaggerated mash-up of Red Sonja and Pepé Le Pew. Of course, Elrod is just a blend of Elric and Foghorn Leghorn (mostly Foghorn Leghorn with an outer glaze of Elric). But he does their voices so well and makes them completely his own, fitting their foibles and eccentricities into Cerebus's world. And Dave Sim is funny. He can be absolutely hilarious. And is it next issue already that we'll get The Roach (it is not. Next issue is Bran Mac Muffin!)? I mean, can you name a comic book that got off the starting block faster without any actual planning?! Deni Loubert announces that she and Dave have moved in "A Note from the Publisher" and not much else. Well, she does exclaim how she forgot to write her editorial. I'm getting the feeling she doesn't really give a shit about these notes and just wants to get on with the real work of getting the stupid comic distributed. In his Swords of Cerebus essay, Dave Sim admits to having never read an Elric story so I guess I probably never had to bother with it either! Although knowing the author's name, Michael Moorcock, helped score some pretty good points in Scattergories on occasion. Speaking of Scattergories and not Cerebus, I once played the game with Sam Adams (ex-Portland Mayor and also my Uncle-in-Law. He also played the assistant to Kyle MacLachlan's Portland Mayor in Portlandia). The category was "type of dance" and the letter rolled was an "L". So my answer was "Lap". Sam sneered and said, "Classy." At least it scored me points and I didn't have to cheat the way Sam and his mom did! That was the Brush with Greatness story I would have told on David Letterman if time and experiences and space were different.

I realize a lot of you are living your worst online life because you view everything on a phone so, really, don't bother trying to read this. Although maybe it's actually easier to increase the size of on a phone! Stupid laptop. I hate you now!

In this essay, Dave Sim mentions how someday he's going to write an issue with Elrod, Lord Julius, and Cerebus locked in a closet. I'm pretty sure that eventual story is the one I mentioned earlier about the mice. I believe the story takes place between High Society and Church & State, maybe Issue #50/51 or something weird like that? When they're fleeing Iest after Cerebus's run as Prime Minister ends? Anyway, it was a great idea and a well executed and hilarious sketch. The issue begins with some guy dying mysteriously to some cursed gem he stole. But never mind his story. It's over and it probably wasn't very interesting anyway. The gem, however, continues on until it winds up in Cerebus's clutches. Cerebus has arrived in Serrea to spend the last of his gold (remember, he never keeps his riches for long) gambling and drinking apricot brandy. I called it Peach Schnapps in a previous review because, have I mentioned, my memory is utter shite? This is also the first appearance of Cerebus's vest. Dave Sim says so in that essay I scanned. But I'm sure I would have commented on it without the prompt because he's so fucking adorable. Plus his snout is nearly to its regular shape and size. That means he's maturing into an adult Earth Pig. After picking up the gem, some strange shit begins to go down.

Cerebus could have been meeting the stripper love of his life but instead he's battling weird magic figments of his imagination.

Remember that thing about my terrible memory? I can't remember if Death was an imaginary character brought on by the aardvark's strangeness mixed with the gem's magic. But I do remember Elrod was some kind of illusion created by this confluence of events. One of the saddest moments in this entire series for me was when Elrod blinks out of existence. I can't say how long I was in denial about that but, month after month, I kept hoping that he'd come back in another of Dave's retcons to make sense of past stories that didn't fit his vision of Cerebus's current world and story. I kept hoping that a bedraggled Elrod would wander into Cerebus's bar in Guys having once again somehow eluded death or capture or nonexistence through his strange blundering overconfidence. Maybe my hope in the reappearance of Elrod was what really kept me reading until Issue #300! Death's plan is to have the Crawler (that's the squiddy, octopus, vagina-stand-in thing) drive Cerebus into Death's clutches. But Cerebus has a knack for winning battles by knowing when to retreat and when not to retreat. Previously, he would have died in the wizard's tower while hunting the flame jewel if he had attacked the skeleton; this time he realizes that if he keeps retreating, he will lose the battle so he presses the attack. Four issues in and I now have total confidence in Cerebus's strategic mind. He can't be defeated even by what amounted to a Great Old One! At least according to Death's description of the beast. I'm not sure Death is the most trustworthy of narrators though. Also, is he really Death? Seems like a crazy character to introduce four issues in. How many issues was Gaiman's The Sandman on before readers were introduced to their next huge comic book crush, Death? Death realizes he can't manipulate Cerebus to force Cerebus to bring him the gem. So he searches for somebody he can manipulate.

Or does he create one? I suppose that spark is the moment Elrod comes into existence.

The first half of this issue was lacking in, as Dave says, "Ha-ha." And true to form, it wasn't that great. Standard sword and sorcery fare with Cerebus battling a monster and magical forces intervene in the barbarian's life. Death isn't much of a character and the monster wasn't much more than any of the listings on a typical wandering monster chart. But then Cerebus wanders into the market to meet one of the top three characters in the series! No wait. Maybe top four because I just remembered another character I love. Whoops! Make that top six. No, no, top seven maybe? Top ten? Christ I forgot about all the characters in Guys who read that Wankerman comic book which puts Elrod in, what? Top twenty, maybe? And do we count all of The Roach's incarnations as one character or several?! Anyway, he's a pretty good character.

Is this the most iconic entrance for a character ever? You know what? Don't answer that. I already said that I hate debating other comic book nerds.

Oh man. I'd completely forgotten about how Elrod refers to Cerebus as the kid in the bunny suit. Which provides for some great imagery later when we see their first encounter through Elrod's eyes. It must have been tough living in barbarian times and also this fictional world because, once again, Cerebus finds himself drawn into a sword fight for practically no reason. I mean, there were probably more reasons for every other fight he got into, like the one against the shadow beast and the one against the skeleton and the one against the wizard and the one against the Boreleans and the one against Klog and the one against the army hypnotized by the succubus and the one against the succubus and the one against Red Sophia and the one against Thugg the Unseemly and the one against Feras and the one against the Crawler. This fight happens because he just tries to ignore Elrod and Elrod is all, "Look at my hat! It's tall and pointy!" Remember that joke from Dave's essay where he said it made him laugh a lot? Yeah, it was pretty good.

Elric's sword was black but it was not called "Seersucker." It was called, um, Black Razor? No wait! Stormbringer!

Speaking of Black Razor, does anybody remember the names of the other two magic weapons that could be found in S2 White Plume Mountain? If so, I'd like to steal your lunch money and give you a swirly. A minor bit of explication happens on the next page which describes Death's motivations for seeking the gem currently in Cerebus's possession. It's the Chaos Gem and would be the 13th magic gem in Death's collection. That would enable him to kill even more people than he presumably already kills. I figure he's eventually going to kill everybody anyway so what's the hurry? Elrod's sword shatters when Cerebus blocks his first blow and Elrod decides maybe they should team up instead. Cerebus has yet to say a word as Elrod talks enough for the two of them. Also, it's a Foghorn Leghorn parody and Foghorn's foils usually have little to say. Half the character is in the bluster and overblown confidence. Elrod gets them both in trouble with the guards and hauled off to prison.

Maybe I loved Elrod because he reminded me so much of my gaming group's role playing encounters.

Cerebus breaks his chains in prison and escapes while Elrod continues to shoot his mouth off. He's useless for anything but talk, evidence, I suppose, that he's nothing but an illusion. I'd like to believe Dave Sim retconned Elrod into being some kind of magical, illusory creation because I don't like to believe that any writer plans that kind of stuff. Why even consider if he's a real being or not this early? But Dave Sim has that bit in the Swords of Cerebus essay where he says, "He always pops up, seemingly from nowhere, with no explanation of how he got out of the fix we left him in (Aha! You hadn't noticed, had you) and an entirely new vision of the best direction for his life to take." It's almost like he's winking at us and nudging us with his elbow, daring us to guess that there's something not right with the character. Maybe Dave Sim only came up with the "Elrod is an actual cartoon character" after a few more Elrod appearances. Cerebus throws the gem in a well, figuring it must be bad luck, and Death walks off dejected that his plan failed. Who's he going to manipulate into climbing down a well?! I mean, The Roach would probably do it. But it seems like Death's heart wasn't really into killing everybody quicker anyway. He probably realized it was just too much extra work. And that's it for the story! Not much in Aardvark Comment except for this list of creatures Cerebus has fought which I did not know existed before I wrote out my list earlier or else I would have simply used it and missed out on some of them.

Also, Frank Thorne wrote another letter.

Cerebus #4 Rating: B+. Dave Sim was correct in his essay about not much really happening in this issue. It's a lot of Death hoping for some gem for some reason which he never gets and nobody ever notices he's even trying, and Elrod going on and on and on about himself. It's a good first appearance by Elrod but he's definitely better utilized when he has actual dialogue with other characters. I loved this issue so don't take it the wrong way when I say my favorite part of this issue was probably when Dave mentioned of Wendy Pini. Elfquest was my favorite thing from 6th to 9th grade. Wendy Pini and Dave Sim have this thing in common: they're two of three comic book creators whom I went out of my way to get to sign my books. The other one was Terry Moore. And I guess you could include Richard Pini but I just think of him as a subset of Wendy.

#Dave Sim #Cerebus

0 notes

the-master-cylinder · 5 years ago

Text

SUMMARY Ship’s engineer Andrew Braddock (York) and two other men are floating in a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific following the wreck of the ship Lady Vain. One dies at sea. After seventeen days at sea, Braddock and the other man land on an island, where the other man accompanying Braddock is promptly killed by animals. Braddock is nursed back to health in the compound governed by the mysterious scientist “Dr. Moreau” (Lancaster). Besides Moreau, the inhabitants of the compound include Moreau’s associate, Montgomery (Davenport), a mercenary; Moreau’s mute, misshapen servant, M’Ling (Cravat); and a ravishing young woman named Maria (Carrera). Moreau warns Braddock not to leave the compound at night.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Moreau welcomes Braddock as an honored guest and willingly shares his fine library, but there are some strange goings-on. One day Braddock witnesses Moreau and Montgomery manhandling a chained creature who is clearly not quite human, and the island is home to more than just this one recites the laws Moreau passed on to them. Moreau explains that they are, in fact, the hybrid products of his experiments upon various species of wild animal. Braddock is both shocked and curious. Moreau explains that he is injecting the animals with a serum containing human genetic material. At times, the human/animal hybrids still have their animal instincts and don’t quite behave like a human which sometimes enrages Moreau, feeling that his experiments haven’t worked successfully. That night, as Braddock is reeling from learning the truth, Maria goes to his room where they have sex. It is implied that this is intended by Moreau.

The following day, Braddock takes a rifle and leaves the compound, determined to see exactly how the hybrid creatures live. He enters a cave and finds several of them (all male). Just as he is surrounded by them and about to use the rifle to defend himself, Moreau appears and restores order. The Sayer of the Law (Richard Basehart) is the only one of Moreau’s experimental beasts who can speak; Moreau calls on him to utter the three laws (no going around on all fours, no eating of human flesh, no taking of other life) aloud to the other creatures. This reminds them that they must not attack Braddock.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After the Bull-Man (Bob Ozman) kills a tiger, Moreau intends to take it to the “house of pain”, his laboratory, as punishment. The Bull-Man panics and runs. Braddock finds it in the jungle, badly injured, where it begs him to kill it rather than return it to the lab. Braddock shoots it, angering the man-beasts, as Braddock has broken the law of killing.

Convinced that Moreau is insane, Braddock prepares to leave the island with Maria. Moreau stops them and straps Braddock to the table in his lab. He then injects him with another serum so that he can hear Braddock describe the experience of becoming animalistic. Caged, Braddock struggles to maintain his humanity. When Montgomery objects to this treatment, Moreau shoots him in cold blood.

Outside the compound, the angry man-beasts turn on Moreau because by killing Montgomery, he has broken the very rule he expected them to follow. He is killed at the compound’s gate while trying to whip his attackers into submission. The man-beasts, now overpowered by their primitive natures, go on a rampage to try and break into the compound and destroy the house of pain as the Sayer of the Law states “There is no law.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Braddock, still struggling to remain human, Maria, M’Ling, and the still-coherent and benign beastfolk servant women stave them off and engineer an escape through the compound. Eventually, the man-beasts break-in and the compound is burned. In the chaos, the wild animals which Moreau kept for his experiments are turned loose and a battle ensues between them and the hybrids. Most of the man-beasts are killed by the animals or consumed by the fire, the Sayer of the Law’s throat torn out by a tiger, the Bear-Man tackled off a roof by a black panther, and the lion-man is mauled by a normal lion. During the final escape, M’Ling risks his life to save his companions from a lion and both fall into a pit trap.

Braddock and Maria manage to float away in the lifeboat that Braddock arrived in, but are followed by a Bear-Man (David Cass) who is one of the last man-beasts. After a battle with each other, Braddock kills the Bear-Man with a broken oar. Sometime later, they see a passing ship, and the serum has worn off, returning Braddock to his full human state as Maria looks on with catlike eyes.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

PRODUCTION In December, however, producers Sandy Howard and Samuel Z. Arkoff descended upon the small island resort of St. Croix in the Virgin Islands with dozens of cast and crew members, tons of equipment, and a menagerie of wild animals. There, in the lush rainforest of the island community, a new $7.25 million adaptation of THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU was filmed in its entirety. The period piece, set in 1911, stars Burt Lancaster in the title role. The young hero, enduring yet another name change to Andrew Braddock, is played by Michael York, and Richard Basehart steps into the role essayed by Bela Lugosi.

Although the producers, and director Don Taylor, insist that the picture is not a remake of the 1932 production, it does retain many of the elements of the earlier adaptation, including a female lead in the person of Barbara Carrera as Maria. An added twist in the new version finds Moreau, distraught that his creatures invariably revert to animals, attempting to conduct his humanizing experiments in reverse on Braddock.

Lancaster & Taylor

“Right around that point, Burt showed up in Cannes, and he tore the place apart just walking down the street the people went ape, because he’s an old star. and I guess they don’t get many old stars there anymore. That convinced us that we should use Burt. But even he had some hesitation, so I went and I talked to him. He said, “You got a problem with the script.” I said, “Yeah, but what picture have you done lately that didn’t?’ We did have a problem with the script, and we did a serious rewrite on it that…didn’t work, unfortunately. But Burt was very good, because he was secure with me: I took care of him, watched him. That’s my whole theory of directing: security. Give the actor security and, to a great degree, let him go. Sometimes you’re able to do that completely, like I did with Burt and sometimes you’re not-that’s when you get into trouble. Burt worked very hard.” – Don Taylor

SPECIAL EFFECTS Highlighting the film are Moreau’s grotesque “humanimals,” created by the makeup wizardry of John Chambers and Dan Striepeke, who had earlier worked together on the PLANET OF THE APES series and numerous other projects. Working from sketches and models, Chambers and his crew made casts of their actors’ faces and then elaborated upon their facial structures with clay. The clay was then used to make molds from which foam rubber appliances were made that were affixed to the skin and then blended to match the still-visible portions of the actors’ faces. In this manner, a boarman, bullman, hyenaman, lionman, bearman, and the wolfish Sayer of the Law were created. Human features derived from a goat, lynx, ram, badger, and baboon were also designed in mask form for less prominent roles. An orangutanman was developed, but when the producers objected on the basis that it might look like a PLANET OF THE APES rip-off, some more hair was added and it was redubbed a slothman.

The two men recognized that the makeup would lie somewhere between the Primal Man concept and the Planet of the Apes concept. The mechanics had already been licked in these previous films, but the concept would take some doing. They worked with Sandy Howard in developing the creatures. Although they studied the original film version of The Island of Dr Moreau, which was titled Island of Lost Souls (1933), they felt that they could offer much more than could have been done in 1933.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Concept art created by Mike McCracken for the The Island of Dr. Moreau. Several paintings, drawings, maquettes were created for the designs of the creatures.. the “Humanimals” as they were called. The pre-production started in 1975 with John Chambers, Danny Striepeke and McCracken. Mike created pencil sketches of the characters first, drawings were then selected and from those selections he created more fully developed illustrations in oil and acrylic on canvas and on illustration board.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After illustrations were selected McCracken sculpted numerous maquettes of those characters, from those maquette he then sculpted all of the prosthetics. A makeup test done in early 1976 of the Lionman, the Boarman and Hyenaman to show the producers Samuel Z. Arkoff and Sandy Howard how the makeup designs would look. They loved them and based on that successful makeup test a revised script was written to include more Humanimals.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Striekpeke went to the Islands first, doing makeup on Burt Lancaster and Michael York and others. Chambers remained back at the lab with his crew preparing enough appliances. The requirements changed continually up until the last moment.

Surprisingly, the trouble with Dr. Moreau, according to director Don Taylor, was the makeups. “I inherited something that I couldn’t do anything about,” he says, “and that was the appliances that had been made chins, noses and foreheads for all these man-animals. The idea was that these animal men should have been grotesque half human and half beast. But they were all Disney, cuddly. You wanted to kiss ’em. I couldn’t make any grotesquerie out of em at all.” – Don Taylor

The first makeup on Michael York was created by Dan Striekpeke. He created a sunburnt, blistered, dehydrated look brought about from the shipwreck Michael survives. York becomes the first specimen that Dr. Moreau attempts to transform from human to animal, the norm being from animal to human.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Chambers had created appliances so that he could subtly transform York into a wolf without the audience realizing it. Chambers and his staff prepared as many as three separate makeup designs for each creature, varying in degree as to human and animal components. “For example,” Chambers explained, “at one point you see the bullman with little nubs where his horns start, and then later you see him with great big horns. But that presented a problem because you couldn’t identify him. I said to Don Taylor: ‘How are you going to identify them, unless you say, “Look, the bullman has changed.” You gonna put baseball numbers on them?’ So we had to throw out the intermediate steps, except in two or three cases. We showed Mling being dragged and taken back to the House of Pain to be rejuvenated, or whatever. And the same with the lionman. We take him from 70% lion and make him 15%. But you see him being taken away and then brought back out to the cart – you know it’s him. And they put a colored patch on his shoulder that was his baseball number.”

Rick Baker’s Lion Man test makeup (Rejected)

Chambers did anticipate problems with the appliances and the moisture, particularly because some of the action required fighting scenes in the water. Special adhesives were used, and the problem never arose. Chambers was quite proud of the teeth he designed and created. They were veneer and tamped right in. Despite the fighting with the actual animals, there were no broken real teeth, and the actors could talk with them, too.

Early Version of Boarman by Mike McCraken

One scene called for the Bullman to be attacked by a real Bengal tiger, and Striekpeke created a fiberglass helmet from a mold of Bob Ozman’s head. It was outfitted with straps and a protective covering. The production staff had been advised that when an animal attacks—provided he does become “wild’’ enough to do so—he could snap at a head or neck in an attempt to crush the skull. Because they were going to train the tiger to bite one of the Bullman’s horns off anyway, they felt every possible precaution should be exercised.

Yes, of course. I’ve done simple martial arts kinds of things. But, as an example of what I said earlier, it was during the shooting of The Island of Doctor Moreau that my karate training truly became useful to me. Because I’d learned a few things about balance, eye contact and the importance of not showing fear, I was able to work with the big cats more effectively. It made me feel good when I knew that what I was doing, how I was controlling the tiger’s actions, would save or even make a shot. A human being can’t compete with that kind of tremendous power. And, that’s something that young people should realize about karate; there are real, human limitations. However, on the movie, it was knowing how to get the cat’s attention, by looking at him a certain way. I used a kiai on one shot to scare the cat and make him attack. Sometimes the attacks became real. It was my martial arts training that told me not to show fear. A good elbow strike, or back fist came in handy at those moments, too. – Bob Ozman/Bullman

However, York, taking “dramatic license,” wanted to do the part dramatically and physically rather than with appliances. Striekpeke did a beautiful job in creating an effective makeup using highlights and shadows and a little hair. The makeup, combined with York’s performance, achieved the effect very successfully.

The other actors who are seen (or not seen, actually) as the Remaining key mutated creatures all had to be expert stuntmen. The script called for a battleroyale between the new species and Wiwir four-footed counterparts lion, a tiger, a boar, a bull and a hyena. Most stuntmen refuse to work with exotic animals, so these were selected on the basis of their association with animal behavior training by Ralph and Toni Helfer, animal experts who own and operate Enchanted Village in Buena Park, California.

Bob Ozman, who plays the half-man, half-bull creature, owns a karate school and has always worked with animals, which made him a natural for the film. However, in comparing his acting stint to his other encounters with wild animals as a trainer, he comments, “I found it more of a challenge and much scarier than any of the outrageous and so-called dangerous stunts I’ve ever performed before.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The tiger did try to bite Bob Ozman, who was playing the Bullman, on the back of the neck, and another time a fang just grazed his eyes. Both times the helmet was the lifesaving factor. Striekpeke had to repair it after the first encounter, which is some indication of how severe the attack was. At other times, the tiger would slash at a hand, tearing off a foam-rubber glove.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Makeup calls varied from three a.m. to four a.m. It took four hours per person to make them into a Humanimal, mainly because there were so many appliances involved. The Wardrobe Department helped a great deal with other parts of the costumes such as fur jackets. Although the makeup could probably have been completed in three and a half hours, Chambers and Striekpeke insisted on an allowance of at least four, and the cameras were never held up.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

In spite of his star status, actor Richard Basehart also had to respond to that incredibly early call, for his part was to play the leader of the humanimals, a wolf by birth, the “Sayer of the Low.” In the film, he attempts to maintain the human half of his follow creatures and to void the animal instincts that smolder within. As an example of the technical care lavished on the movie, Basehart wore special contact lenses to simulate wolf eyes, since he was frequently seen in close-up shots. He also had a hump built onto his back, because he stands too erect otherwise to represent one of the man-beasts.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

RELEASE/DISTRIBUTION Reportedly, several endings were shot, including a couple of shockers in which Braddock, after escaping the island debacle with the now-pregnant Maria whom he loves, suddenly discovers that she is not what he thinks, but rather the pinnacle of Moreau’s unorthodox experimentation. In one ending, she begins to revert back to her former feline form, and in another, she gives birth, not to a child, but to a tiger kitten. Presumably, sneak preview responses will dictate which ending makes it into general release.

youtube

CAST/CREW Directed Don Taylor

Produced Skip Steloff John Temple-Smith

Written Al Ramrus John Herman Shaner

Based on The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells

Burt Lancaster as Dr. Paul Moreau Michael York as Andrew Braddock Nigel Davenport as Montgomery Barbara Carrera as Maria Richard Basehart as Sayer of the Law Nick Cravat as M’Ling The Great John L. as Boar-Man Bob Ozman as Bull-Man Fumio Demura as Hyena-Man Gary Baxley as Lion-Man John Gillespie as Tiger-Man David Cass as Bear-Man

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY brightlightsfilm.com martialartsentertainment Starlog#11 Starlog#165 Cinefantastique v06n01 Cinefantastique v05n02

The Island of Dr. Moreau (1977) Retrospective SUMMARY Ship's engineer Andrew Braddock (York) and two other men are floating in a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific following the wreck of the ship Lady Vain.

#70sFilms #AIP

0 notes

worldcakecakecake · 8 years ago

Text

The Society of Romulus and Remus

Ludwig is the product of a centuries old curse that transforms him into a dangerous werewolf. His only chance for a cure is with Feliciano, heir to the Society of Romulus and Remus, a group of hunters who hunt on the supernatural.

Chapter 7

Although he hated rising in the early mornings, he was slowly starting to get used to waking at the very first sunlight that entered through the small window of blinds in his room. With his curls everywhere, probably hanging at the other side of the bed, completely opposite of where he had fallen the night before, he would arise suddenly, eyes wide open with a big grin that greeted the new day in anticipations. The sheets around his naked body would be a mess that only made him tumble every morning, falling to the floor a normal occurrence. Lovino, who was in the room right next to his, was unfazed by the constant bumps, going along with his own preparations uncaring. Feliciano always found a way to head out of his room alive no matter the chaos of his morning preparations, so Lovino learned he really shouldn’t care that much.

Feliciano headed out in a haste, dressed in his black uniform, seals showing he was only in the beginning of his training, the same two leathered books in his hold. One was a type of notebook for him to use for Ludwig’s teachings and then there was the sketchbook his nonno gave him.

By the time he did his usual running through the halls, the base was just awakening, filling it in members preparing for the day of teachings, training, healing, missions, returning or looking for some time to spend with others in different hobbies. Feliciano would greet happily those he knew, from balconies, to terraces, by fountains, to even different rooms he passed by. His first stop was the cafeteria, where most were already lining up for their breakfast, but Feliciano didn’t need to take it, there was only one particular thing he wanted.

“Just the person I was waiting for,” their French cook turned, already holding a tray with his chocolate filled pastry and coffee.

Simple, but it was Feliciano’s ideal.

“Thank you, Francis…hmmm…” he took a whiff of the coffee.

“With a dash of Hazelnut,” Francis assured.

“You know best!”

“Heard you’re only missing a couple of more lessons until your power training, something to look forward with what your Mars heritage and everything.”

“Yeah…” to be honest Feliciano was not really that excited to use a power that was meant for killing. “…But I also have cardio,” he groaned, utter misery that pained his muscles already.

“You’re still in body training? That’s usually done in a couple of weeks. Aren’t you going into your third month?”

“As you can tell I’m not that good, but Ludwig got tired of waiting for my body to adjust so he decided to just go straight to the lessons and researching and hope it doesn’t strain anything for when my power training starts.”

“Ludwig, ever the impatient one. With you it’s like he’s working under a countdown. He should take it easy, he’s being a little too harsh.” Francis petted him sweetly, a caress that reminded Feliciano of an older brother.

Feliciano rolled his eyes, “that’s what my grandfather would have wanted though.”

“I wish you luck as always! I’ll have a bowl of borlotti beans and sausage stew waiting at lunch for you.” Feliciano was ecstatic and already eager, but it meant that midday would just come much slower.

Taking the tray he quickly found his usual breakfast spot, a high table decorated with flowers the servants would pick from outside. For this week they placed pink and purple carnations around the room beautifully. Oh he had to draw this! So while taking sips of his coffee and bites of his pastry, his right hand was dedicated on the drawing. He would only stop to give greetings, receiving the same comments of ‘Drawing again?’ ,‘Always with that sketchbook in hand’, ‘Distracted even when eating’. Occasionally a group of young girls would pass, to which he gave his charming smile or a wink and they all answered with the same shouting glee, giggling pass with the same waves. A group of men were just coming to join him, all with smirks and ready for any kind of flirting chance they could get.

“Feliciano! It’s eight!” Francis shouted.

“Oh right!” He took one last swig of his coffee and hurried off, sketching away still in his haste and leaving the boys in disappointment.

Feliciano continued through more halls of greets, of the morning routine, of people going through here and there, with weapons, with books of power and control, magical items or even their own quick breakfast. Feliciano stood out rather odd for a Valenti, who the base was used to seeing as the symbols of power, with the most fearsome weapons, the most mysterious books, the strongest armor and an air of dignity that reminded many of emperors and kings. Yet here was the youngest heir, with the beginner uniform with no seals of earning, a friendly outlook with a kind charming beauty that was more reminiscent of a prince, holding only but two simple books, one of notes and another for his sketching.

As always, he would suddenly stop to look at the new hoard Elizabeta was bringing in from the arrival central, holding a clipboard and marking everything that had arrived. She wasn’t surprised to find Feliciano already eyeing, looking for certain particular items that she quickly pointed to once Feliciano noticed she had been staring.

“Good morning, Feliciano,” she wished with a chuckle.

“Morning, Elizabeta, so um…”

“Did we get new colors and paints?” She opened the crate where they lay, the entirety filled with a rainbow of jars, pencils and markers to the sides of the highest value. “Yes, yes we did, from our Bulgarian base, made by witches, but as long as we’re concern they don’t have any kind of magical properties, just really good materials,” she introduced, taking some jars, brushes and pencils out to show him.

“Can I…?” Feliciano pointed shyly.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes but ended up throwing some of the materials to him, which he got safely in the cradle of his arms.

“You’re the only one who really gives these things use. If I could I would give you the whole box.”

Feliciano chuckled appreciative, trying to hold everything well towards his hold.

“What kind of new drawings have you made?” She asked curiously as she kept moving boxes from one pile to another.

“Look!” He quickly showed the last one of the carnations he was making.

“Oh, these look beautiful,” Elizabeta complimented, taking hold from one side of the book.

“Thank you, I’m also working on these drawings…” He turned the pages until he showed one of a Tuscan valley, two masked men fighting with elegant swords, a witch brewing a potion, going on with all kinds of stories that could fit the pictures, and finally there was a portrait, of no other than Feliciano’s private instructor, one he had taken of him in deep thought and concentration, but as powerful as he outshone to everybody. Elizabeta admitted it was amazing, something the very man should hang proudly in his office.

“Distracted and infatuated, huh?” Elizabeta teased.

“Oh please, no, he just happened to look perfectly handsome for that moment and I had to sketch it,” Feliciano excused, bringing the sketchbook to a close.

“Right, right, which reminds me, don’t you have a session with him in a couple of minutes?”

“I actually do.”

“Then get going or else I have to listen to Ludwig complain about you coming late again,” Elizaveta rolled her eyes and with a final wave Feliciano was continuing his way down the base.

He had been sure he would get there on time, that nothing would interrupt again his route, but his eyes suddenly caught one of the tapestries that hanged. It was of a werewolf, one resting, at peace, unlike any monstrous depictions Feliciano had seen. The image itself sparked an idea, one that he immediately acted upon by sitting on the edge of a wall, opening his sketchbook and already beginning. Yes, a kind werewolf, one that would be soft to rest upon, that would save others, with no vicious eyes and teeth, no haunting shadow fur, but a kind spirit that he could trust. He drew a similar to the one in the tapestry, although more holy, like something you would find in the glass of a church, with chance, kindness and just a creature Feliciano wished he could see more often in his dreams instead.

“Feliciano!” He heard a fellow Jamaican member, Anthone, call, with a teasing smile, watching from afar with Sefina by his side, who was a Samoan member, giggling beside her friend. “Shouldn’t you be getting somewhere?”

Feliciano sighed in disappointment, cursing how everybody in this base knew his schedule. Perks of being the grandson of the leader he guessed.

He stood and moved away…still sketching away on his werewolf and being more attentive to it than his actual surroundings, not noticing as he missed the spray of a fountain, as he went straight through the testing of a slicing object, somehow moving in amazing avoidance to the crowds that grew as he went through the market place.

Keron Montaje crashed into the day with a loud opening of his door, not caring that he almost hit a young woman coming into his same room complex. He was too preoccupied on making sure his dark hair was slicked back well, his beard and moustache trimmed to perfection, his uniform, with high shinning seals fitting in exactness to his large body, toned with experience of hunt. Behind him came his younger sister, Pisa Montaje, a more petite woman of intense dark skin, quite a large contrast to the paleness of her older brother and her very own shinning white hair. She apologized to the woman in favor of her brother, but the woman moved along with clear distaste still in her expression.

“You should be careful,” she meekly told him.

“About what?” Of course he hadn’t noticed and wasn’t bothering to care, now especially when he set his own attention on the routes of the base, his mind thinking about what kind of activity he should do today. Should he ask for a hunt? Should he take in a group of apprentices? Should he train that ice spell he recently learned? His mind couldn’t bother to continue thinking about these things when they instead fell on the young Valenti, making his way, soon to pass alongside him, ah yes. He tapped his sister shoulders and pointed, which earned a roll of her eyes.

“Yes, Feliciano Valenti, drawing as per usual in that sketchbook of his.” Pisa saw no difference.

“You fail to see that this is one of my chances.” And he began to prepare his uniform yet again, making sure his more powerful seals were shown and that the jacket was tight enough to reveal the contour of his muscles.

“Another one of your failed attempts?”

“Those past ones were simply not made in the right moment, he must have been distracted, stressed, no doubt Ludwig’s doing.” He always seemed to growl whenever the name was mentioned.

“Mhm,” Pisa refused to believe.

“Don’t doubt in me! I still stand by my own decree that Feliciano will be mine by the end of this year,” he still promised.

“Your homosexuality has never been clearer. I don’t get the big deal, yeah I mean, sure, he’s really cute, but nothing to get all fussed about after he hasn’t shown the same interest in you.”

“Just cute? My dear, he’s one of the human jewels of this base, going alongside Lovino, Antonio, Pedro and Herakles.”

“Why don’t you go for those other ones then?”

“Oh, but they don’t have his smile, his youth, his innocence, his vulnerability. He’s like a prince waiting for his rescue and who else to be that knight to save him,” he was convinced.

“Or to have him as an excuse to get the family power and riches,” she raised an eye, not at all convinced that he was doing this out of some righteous romance.

He glared at her and she hid a giggle under the palm of her hand. “I want him because of his beauty, his power and stature. I have proven to be just as dignified for it and will not rest until he is bedded!” He bellowed, Pisa worried that the entire base would hear it, much to her embarrassment.

“Well you better continue proving…he just passed right by us without so much as a glance towards you,” she noticed.

Feliciano indeed moved past them without a care, into the areas of the market filled with activity and crowds. Keron disappointed, even grew angry, sending a blame to his sister, but never mind, he could still reach him, he could find an excuse to talk. This was the marketplace, one of the places in the base with the most chatter. He also forget to mention heavily full, people constantly crashing into others, covering, sure to get lost anybody who dared defy it trying to meet another person who continued to move between it in faster speeds, with pure intent in reaching where he had to, especially when he was already late as it was.

It was futile, even as Keron called he could not get his attention, leaving him in a groan, close to angering, shouting it on blame to somebody who was near…until his eyes fell on a table of women clearly gawking at him. It was to be expected when Keron was known as a member of high stature, a fierce handsome warrior that surely many in the base swooned over and tried to find whatever chance for his presence. These particular women called for him that moment, a ring of their hands, of their pretty eyes and bodies and soon Keron was following to join.

These will make do. He would have Feliciano another time.

The only time Feliciano really crashed against something was the door to this particular entrance, but the action made him realize that he had arrived to where he had to. He closed his sketchbook and got the book with his work, proud of the papers he had drawn and written, actually quite excited to hand in. Into the building, up the flight of stairs and into the halls filled with presence of other higher ups, mostly teachers and instructors who didn’t fail to greet Feliciano as per usual. Ludwig’s office was one of the top ones, in a deep and singular hall meant to give the man as much privacy and space as possible, always a question as to why in Feliciano’s mind.

Ludwig always expected him not to knock, his student would always just barge in, a mess in his hands, sometimes tumbling, sometimes letting something fall or dropping some other item Ludwig held in the office. He had grown a special tolerance to just work along in his writing while Feliciano tried to settle himself in the frontal chair he always let out for him.

Why was it so hard for him to just take his seat and keep still?

Once he was finally ready, the first thing Feliciano did was present forward his work book, papers sticking out, surely the report he was supposed to work on. Feliciano opened the cover and presented the first one. “My report on the readings you sent me about the Goranka robes. All types of levels of the Balkan bases are represented.” He turned the pages so he could see the eloquent drawings he had made of the distinct dark robes. Feliciano had to admit that they were quite a beauty, sometimes making him wish he was at a higher position just to wear them.

Ludwig looked on uninterested, moving it to the side to later correct.

“My report on currency and how to properly exchange in the suddenness of a mission." He moved it forward, Ludwig pushed it to the side as well.

“And my report on the beginner robes of the western European bases, the Cesarina.” He pushed the final one, opening to the drawings he made of the very robes he had to wear while in the base. It was the one Ludwig examined the longest, quickly pointing his finger.

“You drew the insignia in the belt wrong and the sleeves do not hold those designs. I think you got confused with the intermediate ones. I’ll accept it still since I have to read your writing, but I expect you to hand me a correct one for tomorrow.” He took out a book, landing it harshly on the desk for Feliciano to take, which held clearer and more specified pictures of the robe so this time Feliciano didn’t have a chance at wronging their design. Ludwig was giving him a break by just giving him pictures to better understand instead of just reading about them, but it did not erase the distaste Feliciano was feeling about this.

“All right, that’s all your reports, now-” and he opened his hand expecting.

Feliciano’s eyes trembled, he nervously bit his lips, one hand reaching into his pocket to get the stone, slow in taking it out, afraid of the response Ludwig would give once he saw the number presented in it. It was dropped on his palm, Ludwig brought it closer to himself to analyze, instantly a disappointed huff.

“Feliciano, I asked you to do ten pushups, fifteen squats, and a three mile run.” Ludwig then dropped the stone harshly, his expression boiling, the results clear for both of them to see, for Feliciano to know why Ludwig was this mad. “You only ran half a mile, six squats and didn’t even do pushups. What is your excuse?”

Feliciano sat on in silence, eyes avoiding, fingers tapping under his chair, trying to think of the proper words to tell him.

“I got…tired,” was the weakness he could say.

Ludwig groaned and rolled his eyes, “you are behind, Feliciano, embarrassingly so. By this point you should have already taken your first field examination. I had to beg your grandfather to leave you for the next one and decided to combine your researches and book readings. This is not easy to deal with, and I would deeply appreciate it if you could please help me by being more hardworking and punctual for what I send you. We really need to finish your first year on schedule.” He tried hard from letting his voice rise, from letting the pure rage be seen in his eyes and from even smashing his fists against the table in his desperation. Even without doing any of these things, Feliciano could sense it still, reigning like an intimidating cloud that made him tremble, biting his lips and his grips on the chair tightening. Feliciano didn’t know what to properly tell him afterwards, remaining silent, strong to withstand other words of scold, but even Ludwig was getting tiresome with this, only letting a deep sigh reign as he brought forward a hand to rub at his head. Once again he handed him the stone.

“I’m giving you today after our lesson to fulfill the exercises, if not, I would have to go to your grandfather.”

Feliciano had determined himself to doing so then, he really did not feel like having the added scold of his grandfather this week. He nodded and held the stone with promise and Ludwig could confide that he would do it this time…but how many times had that already happened? First time teaching a single student and already it was proving harder than having a group, but perhaps it had to do with what he was expecting from Feliciano by the end of the year.

The Venetian Mark, the Bronze stare, the Eros curl, the Blood of the land of Beauty, the 13th…he was nowhere near to proving himself in any of these spells, as being the one to break his curse, but he would have to keep pushing and trying, he had to.

“Our lesson today will be on vampires-”

Instead of actually going to run those miles after his lesson, he found himself being called elsewhere, to a little workshop that he always found the time to visit. It was the late afternoon, by then everybody was already leaving their classes, returning from field practice or missions, from work, from researching, to head to the main dining room for dinner. Of course, Feliciano was one of those plenty that would rush off at the first calling of food, but he also knew that it was at this time that the workshop was mostly empty, only but one presence still working on, enjoying from the silence and the singularity.

His brother hummed a song silently, a thin paintbrush working over the newly formed wood. He was at peace, he was smiling, his head surely adding and thinking to the things he could add to the craftsmanship of this sword. Feliciano took silent steps down the stairs, admiring the serene air that his brother of all people actually settled here. Not wanting to disturb it so harshly but wanting to still be a part of it, he leaned close enough to notice the blue he used, the intricacy of the handle, the shining blade and the blankness that left for more to happen.

“Oh Lovino, it looks absolutely beautiful,” he complimented, letting his head lean closer.

Lovino did give him a rise of his eyes, a part of him angry about his sudden entrance after he found just the right peace, but the way Feliciano admired his work made him smile and accept, letting himself grab another paintbrush with white to start on the designs of stars.

“Thanks, but do you think it would be enough for Toris?” Lovino still faltered.

“It’s much more than what he asked for. He’ll love it! Probably just put it to decorate in his base room instead of using it to fight.”

Lovino chuckled, cleaning some pieces and dust from the handle, deciding that it needed some extra scrapping before he started on the paint there. “Doubt it. He’s really counting on it. There’s been an uproar of werewolves sightings in the Baltic area and he really needs this kind of weapon along with the blessing of my spell, I just overdid the design, bored I guess." He tapped against it rather embarrassingly.

“But it’s still so wonderful! Toris would probably give it a lot of meaning and feel so cool when using it.” Feliciano could already dream it.

“Eh, I guess you’re right. Would help to make that guy more intimidating. He needs it with all the wimps in that base.”

“Don’t be so rude, this kind of job is not easy,” Feliciano pouted, understanding that base’s known cowardice that he felt in this more prestigious one.

“Well they still have to get over it if they plan on staying. That kind of facing would end up killing them one day.” He went back to designing, occasionally balancing to make sure that everything still stuck together.

Feliciano settled with just watching by taking his seat near a stool, wondered at every stroke and touch he made.

“So hey, how were your lessons with potato bastard today?” Lovino was curious as he began with painting some purple.

“We started on vampires,” he admitted, not wanting to groan and sadden with the rest that happened.

“Took you long enough.”

“I handed in my reports."

“Good."

“I have to re-do some of them."

“Knowing Ludwig, was it something stupidly small?”

“Kind of.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, “bitch.”

“And I…um…”

“You what?”

“I got scolded for not doing my exercises,” Feliciano pouted.

“As much as I dislike the potato, I agree that you have to keep working on them. It’s necessary in the field and can help you to better take tactics. So yeah, fucking work on your training,” he scolded himself, earning a roll of Feliciano’s eyes.

“It’s not going to make much of a difference in my case."

“If you want to become a strong fighter, it will.”

“But how many times have I told you that I don’t want to.”

“Don’t start this bullshit.” Lovino didn’t feel like going at this topic again, cleaning his brushes, a sign that he would finalize on his work for the day. Feliciano decided on remaining silent, slumping against his raised knees, leaving any arguments in his head and for Lovino to go on in his cleaning.

“What are they even serving up today?” Lovino asked as a good way to change any tenseness that might settle.

“Vegetable stew, Oeufs en meurette, Russian salad, paella and fruit and nuts granola for dessert.”

Lovino groaned, “I miss eating at home.”

“I do too. I miss mamma’s Fettuccine pasta,” he could almost salivate it in his tongue as he remembered it.

“Her gorgonzola with figs and honey,” Lovino thought he might as well join.

“Easter lamb!”

“And her focaccia sandwiches,” Lovino moaned and indeed he wanted to join in Feliciano’s desire to be at that familiar table once again.

“But well…we have Russian salad,” Lovino rolled his eyes as he finished packing everything in its bag and placing it in his locker.

“It can’t be that bad."

“I can already see myself having to sneak into the kitchen tonight,” he dreaded, picking the keys and his bag to leave.

“Can I join you?”

“If I feel like it when I wake up.” He brought his arm around Feliciano’s neck and pulled him close to him as they made their way out.

“Aw come on, some brother bonding time before you leave to the Baltic base to bring the sword."

“That trip is in two weeks, Feliciano.”

And out they were to the routine of their dinner nights, door shut and the workshop brought into darkness and sure silence this time.

< previous chapter next chapter >

#The Society of Romulus and Remus #TSORAR #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic #worldcakecakecake

14 notes · View notes