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tenspontaneite · 3 years

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Across Shared Skin (Chapter 1/?)

When Callum was born, Sarai pored over every inch of his skin by candlelight until she found it: a tiny, diminutive patch of discoloured skin on the back of his tiny, diminutive left hand.

(Second of two pieces written for @falling-for-you-a-rayllum-zine) (Soulmate AU. For the ‘AU’ chapter. Only this instalment was written for the zine; future chapters are all new. Piece length: 7k. Ao3 link)

---

It was an interesting skin tone. Pale and purplish, almost, plainly evident against the ruddy colour of his newborn body. She wondered if, across whatever distance separated them, her son’s soulmate had noticed the corresponding shift on their own hand. She wondered how much older they were. She wondered many things that, in the end, only the passage of years would be able to answer. But for now, there were observances to meet.

She fetched a pen, and in the tiniest script she could manage, drew lines of ink carefully across the back of her son’s hand. Callum, she wrote, and left it at that.

Others might include a birth-date, or kingdom of residence, or the names of the parents. But Sarai was wary, and wrote only what custom dictated. The name.

She wasn’t expecting a response right away. For all the prominence of the mark’s location, it was late, and whoever waited on the other end might well be asleep. She had expected more to be waiting until morning, at the very least. But, mere minutes later—

Clear and careful, a name unfolded on her son’s skin, directly beneath the one she’d written.

Rayla, it said, and nothing else.

Sarai mulled the name over. It was unusual. Foreign, certainly, though that didn’t guarantee anything about how far away the girl might live. In the end, she nodded, and committed the name to her memory. It might be years until Callum could communicate with his soulmate himself, but until then, he deserved to know her name.

She left both names on Callum’s hand, and set him gently down to sleep.

---

“He might not be a human.” Lain attempted, yet again, looking down for what seemed like the hundredth time at the name on his daughter’s hand. “Elves use the common script, too. And the name—it’s not unusual. It would fit in well with any of the communities that use Draconic more than we do.”

Tiadrin sighed, and eased the glove once again onto Rayla’s squirming fingers. It wasn’t proper to have one’s mark visible in public, but children so often disliked restrictive coverings. “They didn’t write the primal.” She said, flatly, and that was a tired statement too. “What elf wouldn’t write the symbol of the primal their child was born to? It’s tradition.”

The name and the symbol were obligatory. All else—birthdate, location, family—was optional. But there should have been a symbol. Moon, or Sun, or Sky, or Earth—even Ocean—there should have been a symbol. But there wasn’t, and in its absence, they’d omitted Rayla’s moon. If her soulmate was a human, it would keep him safer. It didn’t seem prudent to declare arcanum to a human audience of unknown prejudices.

Lain was quiet, watching as she covered up the damning ink of the unaccompanied names. “He might not be a human.” He repeated, more softly. “Perhaps they omitted his primal for security reasons. Perhaps he’s the son of someone important.” His brow furrowed. “Perhaps he’s a Startouch elf.”

She snorted. “Fat chance of that. And even royalty declare their children’s primal.” She bent down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “No, Lain. Our daughter has a human soulmate, and we’ll just have to live with that.”

He frowned, resignation and concern written more clearly on him than the names on Rayla’s hand. “…We can’t let anyone find out.” He said, eventually, defeat weighing on his every word. “She’d never be able to do anything without someone questioning her loyalties. She’d be shunned. We can’t let that happen to her.”

Tiadrin nodded. It went without saying, really. “We’ll tell Runaan and Ethari. Everyone else…” She mulled the name over. Callum. It could mean ‘hard-skinned’. It could also, if derived from Columba, mean ‘dove’. Either way, it was a plainly Draconic name, and Moonshadow elves didn’t tend to name their children for Draconic. Others, though… “We’ll say he’s a Skywing elf.” She decided, and her husband hummed approvingly.

“What about Rayla?” He asked, then. “What will we tell her?”

She went quiet. “…I can’t lie to my own daughter about her soulmate, Lain.” She admitted. “We’ll just…have to impress on her the importance of discretion. Children aren’t always the best at keeping secrets, but…”

He held silent for a moment, then smiled. “She’s a Moonshadow elf. She’ll be fine.” He said, and she wished she could share his confidence.

“We’ll see.” Tiadrin said, noncommittal, and left it to that.

---

Once or twice in his early years, Callum experienced little hints of the shared skin between himself and his soulmate. Here and there, he felt phantom fingertips against the back of his hand, the weight of unfamiliar cloth, and—once—the sharp sting of a scratch from some sort of animal across the skin. It healed quickly, as all blemishes on soulmarks did, but he’d gone crying to his mother from the unexpected pain anyway.

People were circumspect about their soulmarks, and that was part of the background hum of culture that he was raised to. He wasn’t to show his soulmark in public. He wasn’t even to say where it was. He wore fingerless gloves, on both hands, to disguise it—and, at least until he was able to talk to her, he wasn’t even supposed to tell anyone her name.

He did, though.

He finger-spelled it out to Aunt Amaya, albeit clumsily. “Her name is Rayla,” he said, almost solemnly, with the motions of his hands. She smiled at him indulgently and raised a finger to her lips in a ‘hush’ motion.

She wasn’t the only person he told. He told the officer of the Standing Battalion who was watching his mother and Amaya’s latest sparring match. He told the baker that they went to buy sweets from. He told near everyone he met, when he was going through the typical three-year-old’s phase of desperate interest in the phenomenon of a soulmate, and his mother sighed at him for it every time.

Again and again, he asked her to write something to Rayla. To ask questions, to find out something more about her, anything. He had a soulmate, and he wanted to know more about her than her name and skin colour.

“It wouldn’t be right, Callum.” She told him, patiently. “Only soulmates should speak through their skin. You’ll just have to wait until you can write to her yourself.”

Callum scowled, and set back into learning his alphabet very vehemently indeed. Because that was the thing:

It wasn’t proper for someone else to write to your soulmate for you. It wasn’t even proper to be walked through spelling out an introduction. When you first wrote to your soulmate, you were supposed to do it yourself. And you were supposed to wait until you were good enough to manage basic conversation, too.

Callum didn’t want to wait until he had words to communicate with. So, one evening, in abject defiance of custom and propriety, he took off his glove and doodled a little flower on the back of his hand. He fell asleep feeling particularly pleased with himself, and somehow, didn’t consider that writing upon shared skin might garner a response.

He woke to a tiny, clumsy flower-doodle scrawled beside his own.

---

Rayla was something of a lonely child. She didn’t have friends her age, having never meshed well with the other children. She didn’t play like the other children did, preferring instead to train with Runaan, or go off sneaking into the forest alone. She didn’t socialise and the closest thing she had to friends were the adoraburrs she brought home by the armful. So, really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that she became so taken with her soulmate.

It started when, one day, Rayla ran up to them with her expression so bright it was impossible not to smile back at her. And then they saw what was on her hand, and Tiadrin had to restrain a surprised laugh at the neat little flower doodled on her daughter’s hand. “Oh, well,” She managed, and shared a glance with Lain. “That’s…” She remembered, for a moment, that this was a human, but… “That’s incredibly cute.” She sighed in the end, because it was, and Rayla was so charmingly pleased with the tiny drawing. “Congratulations, Rayla.”

“It’s only a flower,” said their rambunctious, headstrong little girl, but there was no hiding how delighted she was. “He didn’t even write anything.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how, yet.” Tiadrin said, while she tried to remember how old Rayla’s soulmate was. “He’s not quite four, and that’s very young for writing.” She shook her head. “Well, I suppose we’d best get you your skin-inks, if you’re going to be talking now. Or drawing.” Suddenly, she levelled her daughter with a penetrating look. “Remind me what you know about talking to your soulmate, Rayla.”

She stilled for a second, and fell from her childish delight into the more bullheaded determination that accompanied her through her training. “Nothing ‘bout elves, or Xadia, or where we live, or anyone’s names, or magic, or assassins.”

Lain reached out and ruffled her hair. “Good girl.” He praised, and she beamed at him. When she was older, no doubt, she’d chafe against those restrictions. They’d make it very hard to talk to one’s soulmate about anything of substance, after all. But for now, she was content.

Rayla puffed up. “I’m gonna draw him an adoraburr!” She announced, and both of her parents made despairing noises.

“Rayla, honey, adoraburrs are magic.” Tiadrin explained, patiently, and her daughter’s face fell. Evidently, this might be more challenging than they’d thought.

(Rayla drew the adoraburr anyway. Adoraburrs were everywhere, after all. What could it hurt?)

Callum kept up a clandestine exchange of doodles with his soulmate for months before his mother found out. Rayla always used some sort of weird ink that washed off his skin really easily, while his ink lingered in faded outlines for days after he scrubbed it off. It was that which caught him, in the end.

“Callum,” his mother sighed, a little despairingly, at the evidence of many successive generations of doodles on the skin of his hand. “You’re supposed to wait until you can write.”

He made a face at her from the side of the bath, where he really should have expected he’d be caught. “It’s not hurting anyone.” He muttered, chagrined. “We’re just drawing.”

She pursed her lips, reluctantly curious. “She draws back? Or does she write?”

“She draws.” He admitted. “She got this weird ink that washes off easy.”

After a brief correction to his grammar, she shook her head. “Skin-ink. It’s made to wash off. I’ll have to get you some, I suppose.” She watched him almost tiredly for several long moments, then said “I’ll not stop you from drawing to each other, Callum. But this means we’ll need to have your security lessons earlier than normal. There are things you’re not supposed to talk to soulmates about—things that could hurt the kingdom. Do you understand?”

He didn’t. But he pretended he did, to make her happy.

In the end, she held the skin-inks hostage until he could dutifully rattle off the list of things he wasn’t supposed to talk about. This included: local governance, anything about how much food people had or where the food or water was kept, anything about the military (this being especially relevant, considering his mother and aunt), anything about the nobility, and a laundry list of other things.

When he was older, he’d understand the rationale behind it; that the careless words of children to their soulmates could reach the ears of adults who knew how to use them. A complaint about always being hungry might not mean much to the soulmate—but to an adult, it might indicate famine in a neighbouring kingdom. It might indicate weakness. And there were many such ways to damn one’s nation.

Of course, by the time he understood, he was himself a member of the nobility—a prince of Katolis. The damage an unwary prince might do with spilled secrets was potentially catastrophic, and so the lessons were drummed into his head until he almost felt wary to so much as touch the nib of his pen to the back of his hand. It would be so easy to give something away.

But, for now, he was only a child, and the ink on his skin held no secrets. He drew flowers, and birds, and cats, and dogs, and horses. His soulmate drew flowers, and weird circles with eyes, and animals that either had spikes on their heads or extra ears, and occasionally she attempted birds too. She wasn’t very good, but the drawings were from her, so he treasured them anyway.

He just wished he could write already, and talk to her properly.

---

Callum tugged on his mother’s sleeve and requested a writing test every week. And, every time, she looked over whatever she’d told him to write, praised his progress, and said, “Not yet.”

Not yet, every time. It meant ‘you are not yet at the level appropriate for talking to a soulmate’, and Callum thought it was an exceptionally annoying standard to hold someone to. It wasn’t like he and Rayla weren’t already sort-of talking, with their pictures. What did it matter if his spelling was bad or his handwriting messy or his letters extremely slow to form? But his mother was adamant.

Time passed, and in the wake of the great upheavals in his life, Callum wished more than ever before that he could talk to his soulmate. His mother married royalty, and she was crowned Queen, and Callum named prince, and in the overwhelming confusion of trying to adapt to life in the castle he desperately wished he could talk to Rayla about it. He didn’t have anyone to talk to, really. The only kids at the castle were Lord Viren’s children, and he didn’t know them well enough to confide in. But Rayla was his soulmate. He should be able to talk to her, right?

…But then, he realised, when his mother started to hesitate a little before saying “not yet,” he wouldn’t be able to talk to Rayla about this, anyway. His mother marrying a King, and him moving into a castle…that was big, important stuff. The sort of stuff soulmates weren’t meant to talk about, if they didn’t know for sure which kingdom they were loyal to.

That realisation left him sour and solemn for days. Still, he wanted to be able to talk to her about some things, even if not the big stuff that he wasn’t allowed to mention. He thought he was getting close to being pronounced ready, but…

In the end, Rayla lost patience before he did.

When Callum felt the scrawl of pen on his skin, it was an automatic reflex to duck away to somewhere secluded to peel off his glove and watch. This time, though, the scrawl just…kept going, as he headed for a secluded spot among a few trees, and he thought she must be drawing something unusually large and elaborate.

He just about fell over when he removed the glove to find words there.

The handwriting was messy, and slow to form. He was slow to read it. But it was unmistakably words.

Are you ever gonna write? Rayla asked, through their shared skin, and he stared at the back of his hand with his heart beating so hard it made his head feel weird and dizzy and hot. She was talking to him! Really talking!

After a moment, she underlined ‘ever’.

He panicked for several long minutes about what he should do. Mom said he shouldn’t. She said ‘not yet’. But that was about him making contact. The younger soulmate was supposed to do it first, after all.

He hesitated, rummaged for his pen and inks, and finally wrote Sorry. Mom won’t let me yet. It took him a long time. The letters were huge and messy and barely fit on the shared skin. For the first time in his life, he felt embarrassed for his handwriting, and suddenly understood why his mother might be saying ‘not yet’.

There was a pause as she wiped off her skin-inks and both sets of words vacated his skin. In her impatience, she left a vague inky smear behind. But you just wrote now, she pointed out, and – and his face burned, he felt unbearably shy and unbearably excited and nervous all at once…was this how people normally felt when they talked to their soulmates for the first time?

He ducked his head, flushed, and scrawled You did it first. He accidentally wrote over some of her letters in the process.

She washed off the inks again. Yeah, cause you were taking forever!! She paused, then added a few more exclamation marks for emphasis. I was so bored waiting.

After a brief pause where he carefully sounded out the word ‘waiting’ to figure out what it said, he wrote Me too.

Waiting had been annoying, and senseless, and stupid. Maybe it was a bit embarrassing to put bad handwriting on someone else’s skin, but…shouldn’t that be up to them to decide? If she still wanted to talk even though his writing was bad…then wasn’t it okay?

She had contacted him. He couldn’t be blamed for that, right?

…And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already broken tradition by drawing, anyway.

As soon as she washed their ink off, he started writing again. But we’re writing now, so I guess it’s okay?

Finally! Rayla wrote, in a quick and victorious scrawl, and also drew a little smiley face next to it. It was fairly delightful.

I’m Callum, he offered, a little shyly, after a moment. This, at least, he had practiced a lot.

I know. She wrote, the letters blocky and cheerful. I’m Rayla.

I know, he scrawled back, and imagined that on the other side of their connection, she was smiling too.

---

Callum learned a lot of things about his soulmate, in the weeks after she opened contact.

He learned that she liked to go exploring in the woods, which her town was inside. She wouldn’t say much about her town, but he got the idea it was pretty small.

He learned that she spent most of her time ‘training’, and while she wouldn’t say what she was training for, he gathered that it involved weapons and fighting and—apparently—being able to jump and flip around a lot.

He learned that she loved her parents and had two sort-of uncles who were married to each other, and one of those uncles was the one who trained her.

He learned that she absolutely detested water, and was terrified of it, and even the prospect of a bath was completely awful to her.

He learned that she was stubborn, and determined, and occasionally so blunt it was kind of rude. He learned that she didn’t really have friends, and while she put on a good show of not caring about that…

We’re friends, though, he pointed out to her, and felt the warmth of her fingertips lingering beneath the words for several minutes before she replied.

Yeah, she said, and that was all.

---

Rayla learned many things about her soulmate, in turn.

He was kind of shy, and got nervous easily, and wasn’t very good at talking to the kids where he lived. He had moved towns not all that long ago, and really wasn’t used to it yet, and found the new place kind of big and scary. He loved his mother an insane amount, and…didn’t seem to have a father. His mother had remarried, though, and had a baby on the way. He was cautiously excited about that.

He wasn’t good at fighting, and though he’d started sword lessons, he hated it and wished he didn’t have to do it. He took a lot of lessons—with tutors, instead of at a school—and wasn’t terribly keen on those, either. What he did like was drawing, and even though they could write now, he kept drawing things for her. Because he wanted to.

I want to draw stuff for you, he wrote, very firmly, and Rayla’s heart fluttered too much for her to think of objecting.

In all, he was really nice, considering he was a human.

...Maybe he wouldn’t be so nice, though, if he knew that she was an elf.

---

Callum was a shy and often tongue-tied boy out in the halls and grounds of the castle. In private, though, he never seemed to stop talking. And, unsurprisingly, one of his absolute favourite topics was his soulmate. As such, Sarai found out very rapidly when they’d started writing, and honestly wasn’t surprised by it at all. Only a little exasperated.

Time passed and Callum chattered, and Sarai grew to know a lot about her son’s soulmate. But there were things about her that she didn’t know. That she hadn’t even guessed about. Until…

“She spells things weirdly.” Callum confided, one day, while she was brushing his hair. “I tried telling her she was spelling stuff wrong but she just said that I’m spelling stuff wrong. Like ‘color’. She puts a ‘u’ in it. And she spells ‘mom’ with a ‘u’ too. It’s so weird.”

Sarai paused, brush stilling in his hair for a second, before she made herself complete the stroke. “Oh?” She said, lightly, allowing no trace of her unease into her voice. “That is odd. Does she spell any other words like that?”

Callum thought for a while. “She uses ‘s’ instead of ‘z’ a lot?” He ventured. “Like…she’ll spell ‘realize’ with an ‘s’. And sometimes she uses different words for things too. She calls pants ‘trousers’. I think maybe she’s from a kingdom where they say stuff different?”

“The common tongue does change a little, depending on where it’s spoken.” Sarai agreed, by all appearances unbothered. “So more likely than not, your Rayla speaks and writes with her regional dialect.” She paused, and carefully, she asked “Did she ever say where she was from?”

She could almost hear Callum’s face scrunching up. “No,” he admitted. “I guess she’s had security lessons too. I know she lives somewhere in a huge forest, though. She talks about it a lot.”

Sarai hummed, with the usual fond interest, and didn’t ask him to tell her more. He would, in time; he loved talking about his soulmate. If she asked, it would only make him suspicious. He was a bright boy. He’d notice. “Maybe one day she can give you tree-climbing lessons.” She suggested, and then that was all he could talk about for the next hour.

She listened more closely, after that. And, slowly, day by day, the clues started adding up.

“She says she lives inside a tree!” Callum declared one day, absolutely astonished and absolutely delighted and wanting her to know all about it. “A tree big enough that they could carve a house inside it! That must be so cool!”

Sarai agreed easily that it was very cool, and did not mention that there were no trees so large within the Pentarchy.

“I still draw her stuff, even though we can write now.” Her son said cheerfully, maybe a few weeks after the treehouse revelation. “She draws back sometimes, but she doesn’t like doing it because she doesn’t think she’s very good at it.”

“What does she draw?” Sarai inquired, and was presented with his hand, the skin-ink a little smudged around the shape of a fuzzy ball with a cute little face.

“Mostly these round fuzzy things.” He confided. “Sometimes she draws them stacked on each other.”

For a moment, she couldn’t answer. She stared, silent, at what was unmistakably an adoraburr, one of those creatures so common and omnipresent in Xadia that sometimes their charred fuzzy bodies were found fallen into the crevices of the Breach. Viren frequently received shipments of them. Apparently they were useful in some spells.

“Cute.” She commented, in the end, and knew by her son’s abrupt quietness that she hadn’t quite managed to hide her reaction.

She went to Harrow, almost as soon as she let Callum go out to play.

“I think Callum’s soulmate is an elf.” She said to him, without preamble, as soon as they were in private. He froze, and studied her, and watched her with wide eyes as he exhaled. He reached out and took her hand.

“Tell me everything.” He said, and she did. She explained the dialect, and the treehouse, and the adoraburrs, and every other clue her son had cheerfully rattled off at her over the months.

They brought Viren in. He agreed, from his acquaintance with stolen Xadian texts, that the dialect matched. He mentioned that there were enormous forests in Xadia not all that far from the border, and that they were home to a number of communities of Moonshadow elves. There might be other great forests elsewhere, of course. But that was the one he knew of.

From there on, she started noting down everything. The vague idea of ‘maybe she’s a Moonshadow elf’ went from ‘possible’ to ‘very likely’ when Sarai relayed the soulmate’s enthusiasm for a monthly community dance that—when she checked—turned out to fall on the full moon, every month. (Coincidentally, Callum had stopped complaining about his ballroom dancing lessons. She’d have found this much cuter if not for the circumstances.)

“The history texts I have say that Moonshadow elf tradition places a lot of emphasis on dancing.” Viren told her, almost apologetically, when she came back with this latest report.

“There’s no sense denying it any more, is there.” Sarai said, wearily, rubbing at her aching temples. Her son’s soulmate was an elf. Perhaps a Moonshadow elf, even, and those were some of the deadliest and most vicious elves there were. Combined with all of Callum’s mentions of his soulmate’s training…

Harrow laid his hand on her arm in warm, wordless reassurance. “What do you want to do?” he asked, quiet, and she sighed.

“I don’t know.” She admitted. In the end, it took a long talk with her sister before she made up her mind, and even then…it was hard to know what to do. How to react.

“He should know.” Was Amaya’s brusque opinion, expression laced with sympathy as she signed. “He’s a prince now, and he needs to know to watch his words around this soulmate of his. It’s a shame, but he’s hardly the first person to have an enemy for a soulmate.”

“There’s that.” Sarai agreed, glumly, and tried to stop worrying about what it meant for her son’s future, that his soulmate was an elf.

It was hard, telling him. Hard to sit him down and inform him, very seriously, that she was near certain that his soulmate was an elf. It was hard to watch the way his expression went…blank, almost. Closed-off, for a few seconds before it became confused and vulnerable instead.

“…What does this mean?” He asked, quiet, and she wasn’t sure what to tell him.

“It means that you need to be very, very careful what you tell her.” She said, in the end, because that was what she knew. “Her people are at war with ours, Callum. I won’t tell you to cut contact with her—she’s your soulmate. You couldn’t. But…” She exhaled, and shook her head. “I’ll get you some reading.”

She sent him off with a number of historical accounts about the tragedies of loyalty and heartbreak that could come from soulbonds divided by war, and wished that fate had been kinder.

---

Callum was quiet for days, after he learned the truth. He read through the books his mother gave him, even though they were long with tiny script and big words that he didn’t know, and felt more and more upset at the possibilities they implied for his future.

His soulmate…was an enemy. An elf. One of the people Aunt Amaya called bloodthirsty monsters.

He was short and brusque in his replies to her, for a while. He looked at the almost purplish hue of the shared skin with new eyes, and wondered what she looked like. Did she have horns? Pointy ears? The wrong number of fingers and toes? He’d wondered what she looked like before, of course, but…never in terms of how inhuman she might look.

She caught on to his strange behaviour very quickly. Did something happen? She asked him, through their skin, her handwriting its familiar blocky scrawl. You’ve been all quiet.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure how to reconcile his feelings towards Rayla, his closest friend and his soulmate, with the knowledge that she was an elf. Kind of, he wrote, in the end, heart heavy. He wished his mother hadn’t told him. He wished he didn’t know. I found some stuff out, and I don’t know what to think.

There was a pause while she washed the ink off. And then: Do you want to talk about it?

He didn’t. Not then. So he passed the following weeks, reading her usual reports of daily life, and wondering what exactly she was training for, day after day after day. Why such long hours, when she was so young? Who exactly was she planning on using those combat skills against?

They were heavy thoughts for a child as young as he was, but there was hardly any escaping them. He tried to focus on happier things, like his mother’s pregnancy, and the nigh arrival of his younger sibling. He tried to think of how Claudia was pretty and friendly and fun to talk to, and definitely wasn’t an elf. He tried to think of a lot of things that weren’t his soulmate, and failed fairly thoroughly.

In the end, after weeks of stilted conversation, he couldn’t take it anymore, and sat down with skin-ink and pen to write: You’re an elf, aren’t you.

She didn’t reply for a long time. But eventually, he felt the tickle of a pen-nib at the back of his hand, and retreated into private to peel off the glove. Yeah, she’d written, and nothing else. Not for a few minutes. Then: You’re a human.

It wasn’t a question. He hesitated, wiped off the ink, and wrote You knew?

Yeah, she said again, and then haltingly explained. Apparently, elves wrote their children’s names to their soulmates just like humans did, except they always included some sort of magic symbol, so her parents had known he was human the second his name came through without it.

He asked what hers was. He probably shouldn’t have, and she probably shouldn’t have answered, but she did. She drew a little symbol, and he took it carefully to his mother.

“Moonshadow elf,” she concluded, with honest sympathy, like someone offering condolences. “Like we thought. I’m sorry, Callum.”

‘I’m sorry’, like it was a death-sentence.

He sighed, and put his glove back on. “I’ll be careful.” He promised, quiet, and left to be alone.

---

Both of them were quieter, after that. There was less idle chatter. Less writing about their days, their experiences, the things that annoyed them and the things they enjoyed. He still wrote—he didn’t think he could have stopped himself if he tried. But there was a wariness between them now that he hated.

Still. There were at least some advantages to having an elf on the other end of his soulbond. Investigating rumours, for one. My friend says elves drink blood, he wrote, one day, with a sort of morbid interest. Is that true?

What?? No!! She wrote, furiously, and then underlined it twice and circled it for good measure.

She reciprocated, sometimes.

Is it true humans have extra fingers? She asked, and he responded by drawing his hand onto the back of his hand. Weird, was her response to that, and despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile.

---

I heard that in Xadia everything is magic, he wrote, one day. Is that true? What’s it like?

She hesitated a long while, then wrote I’m not supposed to talk about magic. Or Xadia.

It hurt, a little. But in the end, they both had their security lessons, and their people were still at war. There was nothing to be done.

Eventually, he wrote what had been on his mind for months, now. I wonder how we’ll meet, he said, with a twist of emotion that was half unease and half interest. It was on his mother’s mind, he knew, and it was certainly a thought he kept coming back to, for good reason.

Soulmates always met eventually, whether or not they contrived to. Even if they tried to avoid it…it would happen someday. His mother was worried about it. The circumstances under which a Prince of Katolis might meet an elf were almost exclusively unpleasant, after all. But he entertained childish thoughts of peace treaties and reconciliation, and clung to them, as unlikely as they might be.

I have no idea, Rayla answered him eventually, and he wondered if she was worried, too.

---

The next year or so was eventful for both of them. Callum’s little brother was born, and he instantly became utterly enchanted with him. He wrote to Rayla at considerable length about how tiny his fingers and toes were, how fuzzy his hair was, how he didn’t have a soulmark yet at all. He never wrote his name, because names were forbidden, but Rayla seemed entertained enough by the stories anyway.

Some time later, Rayla went quiet for a while, and was plainly subdued by something. Eventually, she admitted that her parents had agreed to taking a job that meant they had to go away. She wouldn’t see them more than once a year now, if that. Whatever job it was, it was supposedly an honour; but that didn’t help how much she missed them. She was living with her uncles, now.

You can write letters to them, maybe? He suggested. It wasn’t as good as the real-time writing between soulmates, but it was better than nothing.

I guess, she said, but didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. Her life changed, but Callum’s went on.

---

And then Callum’s life shattered around him.

He shut himself in his room and cried for hours, burying his face in his hands, until tears were streaming between his fingers and his chest hurt and everything felt so awful he had no idea how to cope. How could he? She was gone.

Not much could carry across shared skin. But evidently, enough of the salt-water managed it for Rayla to be alarmed. By the time he checked what she’d written, the tears had smeared and diluted the inks, but the words were still recognisable. Is something wrong? She’d asked, hurried enough that it looked alarmed. Are you crying?

He nearly collapsed, when he went to get the inks. Could hardly see through tears when he wrote, lopsided and awful, My mom is dead. Writing it was terrible. An admission that it was real, it had happened, she was dead.

Rayla didn’t know what to say to that, and he could tell. She wrote I’m so sorry, Callum, and asked if there was anything she could do, if he wanted to talk about anything. But there wasn’t, and he didn’t. Mom was dead. What was there to talk about?

Eventually, perhaps for lack of anything else to try, Rayla drew him a little flower. She’d done it to try to make him feel better, and—and somehow, that made him start sobbing all over again.

A long way down the line, she asked him how it had happened. He couldn’t answer. Of course he couldn’t. That the Dragon King had killed her would reveal too much.

But saying ‘I can’t talk about that’ was revealing in its own way, too.

---

Years passed them by. Callum slowly pieced his life back together around the hole his mother had left, and learned to cope with the loneliness of being without her. His brother grew, and started talking, and swiftly became the dearest person in Callum’s life…except, perhaps, for the elf on the other end of his soulbond.

In many ways, things stayed the same. Callum hated his training and Rayla loved hers. He loved drawing—and became very good at it—and Rayla continued to hate water. She remained as stubborn and headstrong as ever, and she remained his friend.

Sometimes, he had no idea what he’d do without her. Soren was kind of an unpleasant friend, most of the time, and Claudia was always too occupied with her books or lessons or brother to answer his attempts to socialise. He had Ezran, of course, but without Rayla…he could only imagine how lonely he’d have been.

Sometimes he remembered all over again that she was an elf, and felt weird about how much he depended on her.

He still wondered how they’d meet.

---

King Harrow and Lord Viren, with very little warning, departed Katolis and rode into Xadia. There, they killed the Dragon King, and his son the Dragon Prince, and returned covered in a glory that Harrow’s bearing didn’t reflect. Callum wondered if the revenge had felt as hollow to enact as he felt to receive it. The one who killed mom is dead now, he thought, and didn’t feel vindicated. Didn’t feel happy. He just felt…empty. What was the use of it, so many years after her death? She was still dead.

He wished he could talk to Rayla about it. But if names were a forbidden topic, then revealing that his step-father had ridden into Xadia and killed their King…that was plainly out of the question. So he told her nothing.

He wondered if it was his imagination, that she’d grown quieter anyway. When she wrote, she seemed unhappy. Preoccupied, too.

Weeks passed, and she admitted that she was going to be travelling soon. She didn’t say why, or to where, or what for—all of that was proscribed. But she gave it as warning, anyway, that she’d be able to talk less while en route.

In the month that followed, the brevity of their contact left him lonelier than ever.

---

“You must be careful, Rayla.” Runaan said to her, in private, where the other assassins couldn’t hear. “For the first time, you are venturing into the human kingdoms. You must take particular care to avoid meeting your soulmate.”

“Everyone meets their soulmate eventually.” She muttered back to him, fingers resting reflexively over the guard on her left hand.

He was unmoved. “Yes. But, with luck, you can avoid it taking place on this mission.”

It was, in fairness, a very important mission. She sighed. “I’ll do my best.” She promised, though it wasn’t exactly within her control.

When the Full Moon was nigh, and the bindings tight around her wrists, Rayla broke into Katolis Castle and went looking for her quarry.

The first non-soldier she found was a young human boy, maybe around her age. She didn’t know how old Prince Ezran was, but she knew he wasn’t an adult, and…according to what she’d been taught, this boy was wearing pretty high-quality clothes. If he wasn’t Ezran, he should at least know who was.

She chased him. She cornered him. He said, “I am Prince Ezran,” and looked up at her with a resolve and solemnity that didn’t quite manage to mask his fear.

It hit her, then, looking down the length of her blade towards the face of this human boy waiting to die. It hit her that—that he was afraid, that he didn’t want to die, that he was a person, as much as she was, as much as her soulmate was, he was a human just like Callum and she was here to kill him—

But…she had to do it. She had to. She’d bound herself, it was her mission, it was the justice that the Dragon Prince deserved. She had to.

It was in the midst of trying to talk herself into it, and him trying to talk her out of it, that a child’s voice emerged from behind a painting.

It said, “Callum”, and she only had a moment for her blood to freeze before, at her feet, the terrified human boy, the boy who had claimed to be Prince Ezran, the boy she’d been about to kill—

He answered. He responded. It was his name.

What were the chances that she’d meet someone named Callum—the correct age, the correct species, everything—and it wouldn’t be her soulmate?

The painting edged open, revealing a younger human boy with some sort of weird pet. A pet she’d heard descriptions of, held in the arms of a child she’d been hearing about since he was born, looking worriedly between her and the boy she had at swordpoint—

She realised she’d been frozen for too long. She realised that, one way or another, she had to be sure. She reached over, and hit herself hard on the back of her left hand.

The human, in an instant and involuntary motion, flinched and gripped the back of his own left hand. Her heart thudded, and— it only took him a second to realise—

His eyes went wide. He glanced wildly between her and his hand, undoubtedly registering that she was a Moonshadow elf, that she was the right age, that she was—

“Rayla?” He squeaked, and if she hadn’t already known for certain, that would have told her.

She lowered her sword, utterly struck by how much of a disaster this was.

“Shit.” She said, succinctly, and stared at the astounded face of her soulmate.

What in Xadia’s name was she supposed to do now?

---

Notes:

I’ve adored this piece ever since I wrote it in Whenever, Early 2020. Really, really thrilled to be able to share it with everyone at last. As you can tell, it ends on a pretty rude cliffhanger. It’s always invited follow-up, and I think I knew from the moment I finished it that I’d be continuing it someday. And so I did! Eventually!!

According to my discord message history, I began writing chapter 2 in February this year, 2021. I probably wrote the following two chapters within a mad haze in the same week or two, knowing me. The chapters are uncharacteristically short, considering my usual habits, but it felt right for the story. I’ve completed up to the end of chapter 4, and have nothing written after that yet.

Minor edits have been made from the zine version, including some formatting, but nothing drastic. Writing this piece in general was a challenge. There was so much I wanted to include – about the differences in Callum’s life, about Ezran’s soulmate – that I had to cut out because of the word count restriction. Ultimately I opted not to edit that back in for the online version, and simply fill it in organically through the rest of the story. There’s some really interesting stuff, and the story as a whole is going to be wildly canon-divergent.

Some worldbuilding details: - platonic soulmates are considerably more common than romantic ones - there’s some cool weird soulmate metaphysics re: magic

I think I’ll keep it vague and let everyone discover how I’m doing soulmates for themselves, though. Hope everyone enjoyed! Would really love comments on this one; I’ve been waiting so long to share it and I’m so excited.

(also I’m fully aware that the fic’s acronym is ASS, and I’ve decided to embrace this)

#rayllum #rayllumzine #tdp fic #soulmate AU #tdp callum #tdp rayla #god I'm so excited for this fic you don't even know #I've been sitting on the extra chapters for months now #Across Shared Skin

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j-reau · 3 years

Text

There’s something I want to talk about that’s been sitting in my head for a few days now. I kept telling myself not to talk about because tumblr struggles with the line between feelings and drama, between change or growth and confrontation and vauging.

That’s not what this post is for me. It’s not drama or a vague post. It’s trying to work through how I feel, trying to talk to the community at large about stuff I think we can do better, or at least stuff I want for me and for my friends and writing partners.

I think somewhere along the way, in its inability to wrestle with grey areas, tumblr as a whole lost the middle ground between self care and hurting others, and in doing so turned communication into confrontation. I’ll be clear about something to start this off; you don’t owe strangers on the internet anything. You don’t owe someone an explanation as to why you don’t follow them. You don’t owe a mutual an explanation as to why you write with someone else more or where your muse goes that day. You don’t owe anyone your time. You don’t owe anyone your mental health. Curating a safe space is important. Creating boundaries is healthy whether they’re for you or for someone else. I believe all of that to be true and I think that it’s important that on tumblr we absolve some people of the pressure put on them by themselves. I was once stalked by someone who I had never once talked to on this website who demanded to know why I wouldn’t write with them. I did not owe them explanation. Not for why I didn’t follow them and certainly not for why I eventually blocked them. And once they messaged me over and over from different accounts, my boundaries had been crossed and I felt very uncomfortable. So I understand the importance of making sure people know that that kind of pressure is fucked up. Because of my decision not to follow them, that person posted at length about how I was an elitist, unfriendly, etc. They even threatened self harm and guilt baited. And it is instances like that where I think it’s important that we make clear over and over and over that you don’t owe people an explanation.

With all of that said, I think somewhere along the way we started applying all of those posts about how to deal with toxic people and strangers and started applying them to our friends. And that’s where things get uncomfortable for me and worth talking about for me. So I guess that’s what I want to do. Because to me, you absolutely owe your friends some communication. You owe your friends a reason. Even if it’s as simple as “hey I think I need some space, please don’t contact me for a while.” Relationships come and go and on a website like tumblr we get very close to some people fast, or we talk a lot and share a lot, not everyone is going to click. Not everyone is going to jive and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. But in relationships, communication is a crucial and important part of adult hood. Ignoring problems isn’t adult. Failing to communicate isn’t mature or conflict free. My best and closest friends are the people with which I can communicate. And in some relationships you’ll learn that your communication styles don’t match. And that’s okay too. But communication is important to any friendship, partnership, etc. Something as simple as “hey can we not talk about that? It makes me uncomfortable.” Something as simple as “will you do me a favor and blacklist your posts about _____ because seeing them makes me anxious.” Or even communicating needs for validation like “I’m feeling really sad and anxious today. It’s nothing you’re doing but could you give me a little reassurance?” Or “hey I’ve been busy this week. It’s not you but I need some space away from discord.” Communications don’t have to be arguments. They don’t have to be confrontations. They’re just expressing a feeling and allowing someone else to then accept the boundary or need you express and meet it, ask questions if they need to or whatever it may be. Like for example, “sure I can give you space. Do you want to just hit me up when you feel better or should I reach out in a few days?”

I think maybe part of it is about how we place value on “friendships” and on partnerships writing on tumblr. And maybe that’s where some of us differ and I also think is an important thing that should be communicated. For me, I write with hundreds of people. I love writing with people. I love having tons of partners and writing with any of my mutuals who want to. When it comes to writing and people who I have writing partnerships with, my communication style is pretty straight forward. And it starts from jump, communicating if we want to ship or not, communicating what kinds of plots we like. And then later when someone has to say “hey can we drop this thread and start a new one?” Or “Sorry I vanished for a month do you still want to write this?” All of those things are communications and to me, come with trust that you will be honest and receive the other person in good faith. of course, in hundreds of people that doesn’t always happen. Sometimes it doesn’t go well, and that’s fine. These are writing partners and while my communication style will always be the same and be as honest and straightforward as I can give it, it may not mesh with someone else’s. But then there are friends -- good friends. And by good friends I mean the people you talk to frequently. The people you talk to about how you feel, about what’s going on in your life, about your insecurities or whatever it may be. The people you write with frequently or have built a relationship with, the people you tell with your words that you love or that mean a lot to you. Maybe some people on tumblr use words like that lightly. I don’t know. But for me those are meaningful things and the people I consider good friends are not the same as strangers and are not the same as casual writing partners.

Something is exchanged when we RP. I talked about this in my last post. I talked about how it’s not “just tumblr RP” how there are feelings and intimacy that is personal and terrifying in writing with people and sharing your creative work with them and opening yourself up to rejection and insecurity. When you RP, when you talk a lot, when you become friends with someone even if it’s on the internet, just as in real life, you’re exchanging trust. You are opening yourself up to vulnerability in expressing your feelings, in sharing your world with someone and they are doing the same by accepting that, caring for that, sharing their own, etc. To me, once you hit the point of having exchanged trust with someone, that’s when you owe communication of some kind. It can be as small as “hey I can’t talk today” and as big as “this thing you did yesterday hurt my feelings.” But it’s so important to do it. That’s important for a number of reasons. It’s important because maybe there is a misunderstanding that can be cleared up. It’s important because maybe that other person may not even know they hurt you and could apologize. It’s important because vocalizing your own feelings is an adult point of growth for you. And a number of other things.

And I GET IT. Trust me, I do. Communicating is uncomfortable. What about how anxious it makes you? What about how you feel panicked and sweaty and your heart races and you worry that it won’t be well received. Trust me, we all have been there. It happens to everyone and it fucking sucks. But the only way that gets better is with practice. I can already hear the tumblr mentality that says “you shouldn’t have to feel that way if you don’t want to,” and there’s some truth to that. But any therapist will tell you that communication is the key to coming to the other side of that and that the more you do it, the better it’ll be, the easier it’ll feel. Having been in several relationships with people that projected their feelings onto me or held me accountable for their happiness, learning to communicate boundaries, learning to communicate feelings versus intention and all of that were huge for me. This isn’t something I popped out of the womb understanding. It’s something I’ll surely fail at a thousand times. But it’s definitely something important to me to learn. And I think it’s something tumblr can benefit from. Because while “let people block you” is an important mentality for strangers, for abusers, for toxicity, etc it’s not a good mentality for friendships and relationships. Ghosting your friends is really hurtful. Cutting people who mean something to you out with no communication or explanation causes a snowball of bad feeling and anxiety in allowing you to have closure on your terms and the other party to have none. Expecting people to handle hurt and confusion and sadness in private without ever talking about it to anyone is really fucking isolating. Tumblr mentality likes to push that we should be able to axe people without consequence, that they should not ever wonder why, that they can not talk about it to anyone else, or express their sadness. But isolating people in their feelings isn’t healthy and it isn’t adult. There’s a lot of hurt that could be avoided on this website by people learning to communicate and by accepting that sometimes conversations have to be had, even if we don’t like it. Or at the very least, taking ownership for the fact that if we don’t want to have a conversation, that that is on us and not on the other person for feeling confused and not knowing what happened.

So I guess where I’m at here is that I just wanted to talk about that area, and open the floor a little to remind people about communicating. And what I mean when I say friends vs. strangers vs. partners is that I think we also need to be honest with each other and ourselves about who our friends are. Because once you open that trust with someone, there’s responsibility there with what you do with that trust. So be aware of where you open that trust. Be aware of what you say and how you treat people. You don’t have to be best friends with everyone you run across on the internet. I certainly am not. Even people I love writing with may not be my close friends, but I make sure that those are people that I’m not being vulnerable with and sharing feelings about things with and expressing how important they are to me. They are of course still important, but it’s different. Don’t fake friendship with people. Don’t love people into the safety and security of trust and communication that you’re not willing to have. It’s okay if communication isn’t your thing, but understanding that and understanding how you treat people because of it is important. Because communication is important. To friendship, to partnerships, hell even to relationships with coworkers and family members. As a community, I think it’s really important that we encourage being more communicative, and that communication isn’t conflict, and that sometimes having a quick conversation about something where both parties get closure or can say their piece or clear things up is the absolute best way to handle things.

#me still posting diary entiries on tumblr because idk what to do with my feelings #you betcha #but i really don't know what to do with my feelings lately and i keep getting off the dash but then i feel sad and i miss it #and idk i feel like there are so many more solutions here than we're willing to have #i'll come back eventually but when i do i think this kind of conversation is what i'm really going to implement on my blog #if that makes sense #idk i would love to talk to more people about this or just hear how you feel #even if it's the opposite

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thesardonicwriter · 4 years

Text

The Way It Is, Chapter 4 (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

After two weeks of nonstop treatment, Arthur’s face was finally starting to look better. You hadn’t risked another trip into town. Now that Arthur was up and moving, you wanted to be with him. The last thing that they needed was for him to think he was doing better than he actually was while you were gone and hurting himself again. Or worse, getting caught by the Pinkertons. You didn’t even want to imagine the torture they would go through before they were killed. It was sure to be a slow and painful death, especially after what Abigail had done to Milton. Arthur described it once, the gruesome reality of having someone’s brains sprayed directly onto his face. You had, of course, seen a bullet go through more than a couple of skulls, usually from your own gun, but you had always been a safe distance away and never really had to face the aftermath. You figured that whoever had found Milton hadn’t seen it up close or at all. No, there would be no mercy for them now.

You forced Arthur to his feet. He didn’t protest verbally, but you could see the complaint in his eyes. Even after years of going through this kind of shit, he was still reluctant. Imagine that. He was always so proactive on jobs and helping out others, it was strange to see him so unwilling to do something to help himself. You had no qualms about dragging him out of the cave if it was necessary. Thankfully, Arthur would listen to you. Usually. Even now, as he leaned heavily against you, he was still walking forward.

“That’s it. Just a couple more feet,” you promised.

“You said that already,” Arthur huffed.

“Gotta keep you on your toes. Literally. C’mon, what happened to Arthur Morgan? The guy who could intimidate the world’s strongest man? The guy who, if your ridiculous campfire stories are to be trusted, fought a lion?”

Arthur groaned. “Don’t remind me. That damned Margaret or whatever his name was nearly got me killed. Did get a lot of folk killed down at Emerald Ranch, all to give me some piece a junk for my troubles.”

“Sure he did.”

You chuckled softly. A part of you didn’t believe anything like that could ever have happened, but they were far enough east around that time that you would have believed anything was possible. You looked up at him. He was staring at the ground with an intense expression. All of his energy was focused on getting his leg back up to full strength. He’d been sitting around in that cave for too long. When he stood up for the first time, he immediately fell back on his ass, clutching his wounded leg and grimacing. You had gone out into the woods to take care of the Count after that. You found that the white steed had taken a liking to you. If he was close enough, he’d come to the sound of your voice. You made sure that that pretty white coat of his stayed white and lustrous. While you were out there in the woods, you fashioned a fallen branch into a kind of staff for Arthur to make walking a little easier. Now, he was insisting that he didn’t need it. You had some requests of your own, such as taking him down the mountain side and back. Not all the way, of course. Just a few meters away from the cave. It was still well within view.

The real challenge was getting the food you cooked to stay in their stomachs. The food you’d bought at the general store had run out in a week. Since Arthur was awake, you felt comfortable going out to do some hunting. However, if you tried to do anything more than roast whatever game you’d managed to catch, it never turned out right. It wasn’t like they had a plethora of ingredients, but it wasn’t pleasant. It was, somewhat, better than having nothing. Hopefully, they’d be off this mountain soon.

“Hey, y’know what I could really go for?” Arthur asked.

“What?”

“Some fish. Dutch’s old rod was in with the Count’s things and I’ve always got mine handy. How’s about we head down to a nice place and try to catch somethin’?”

“Arthur Morgan, suggestin’ that we go fishin’? Now I’ve seen everything.” You didn’t bother trying to hide your grin. “Stay here, I’ll grab the rods.”

You quickly ran back to the cave, crawling inside and grabbing what they needed. You took a few scraps of bread and cheese, too, in case they needed some extra bait. Arthur was waiting somewhat eagerly for you to come back. You helped him move down the more tricky parts of the mountain. There were more than a few places that could get a little steep and slick if one step was wrong. They were following the small stream you’d discovered hidden in one of the many crevices. It was about 20 minutes of walking (mostly because they had to stop every now and then to let Arthur rest) to get to the spring the stream fed into.

Your breath was taken away as you looked at the sight before you. Crystal blue water stretched out just far enough. Vegetation was spread all around them. Some of the plants you knew, but most you couldn’t name off the top of your head. The water reflected the beauty around them. It was somewhat obscured, but that only added to it. The stream fed into the spring like a small waterfall, ensuring that the area would never be completely silent. Not even the lowest part of the rocks reached the surface, standing several inches above the water. A perfect fishing spot.

“Wow,” you spoke quietly.

“Wow indeed,” Arthur agreed.

Without another word, they both put together their rods, sharing the bait. You moved a few paces away to keep their lines from getting crossed. They sat in silence for a long time. It was comfortable. Perfect, unlike that first night Arthur had been awake. In a place like this, it was easy to forget fear and just… live. Really live and be human for a few fleeting moments. That was all that you really wanted now. Precious moments, surrounded by beauty.

Arthur stopped fidgeting and looked up. You glanced back at him. He was staring at the sky in wonder. His mouth was slightly agape and blue-green eyes were wide. You turned to see what he was looking at.

The sun was slowly setting in the west. From where they were, they actually had a pretty good view of it. The fading sun cast a glow of orange over the tops of the trees. The usual blue of the sky was melting into the oranges and yellows. The clouds were a light pinkish colour, lazily floating towards nothing. Purples meshed with reds, light and dark came together and it was only for a few moments. Before anything else could be seen or said, the moment was gone.

Arthur closed his mouth. There was a soft smile traced across his lips still. You stared at the retreating sun for a moment. It really was something else. No matter how many sunsets you saw, you would never get used to the sight of them. Each one of them was so different from the last, so unique.

“I missed the sun,” Arthur said.

“We can see it from the cave,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, but you know that ain’t the same as standing in a place like this and watchin’ it. Don’t try and fool yourself now.”

“Nah, I s’pose not. We better be headin’ back now. I don’t think any of our fish friends are interested in cheese.”

“Hold on! I’ve got somethin’!”

Arthur pulled back on the rod, reeling in whatever it was he had quickly. You watched in anticipation. Neither of them were expecting for his leg to give out at that exact moment.

Arthur was pulled into the water. He landed with a loud splash that sent water up over the rocks and onto you’s boots. Dread overtook you as you looked into the water. Arthur sputtered when he came back to the surface, wiping water from his eyes. He gave his head a good shake and held up the fishing rod.

“Had to cut the line to keep the rod,” he said.

“You okay?” you asked him. You hoped that your voice didn’t sound as worried as you felt.

“Yeah, I’m good. C’mon, help me outta here.”

You made your way down the rocks closer to the water’s edge. You found the spot closest to the water and held out your hand. Arthur swam over to you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist. You started to pull back but was met with a much greater force pulling you in. You barely had time to brace yourself before you were completely submerged. It took you a moment to get your bearings under water. Her eyes stung but you needed to look around. You found the surface and swam quickly. As soon as you were up, you took a deep gulp of fresh air into your lungs. Arthur was laughing like a madman. It wasn’t often that you heard Arthur laugh, but it did nothing to make you less angry at him. You sent a wave of water his way.

“You dumbass! Now we’re both soaked!” You complained.

“Ah, you’re enjoyin’ yourself, don’t lie.” Arthur was still smiling and trying not to laugh. “You need to do that, y’know. Take a little time for yourself. God knows you’ve spent enough of it on an old fool like me.”

“Fool? Yes. Old? No. If you’re old, then so am I and I ain’t ready for that conversation yet. And as for lookin’ out for you? If I didn’t do it, who would?” Arthur opened his mouth to say something back. “All right, will this shut you up? I’ll promise to watch you if you promise to watch me. We’ll take care of each other. Deal?”

You held out your hand expectantly. Arthur didn’t hesitate to take it in his own. His palms were rough and calloused. You were sure that yours felt much the same to him. They shook on it, making it official. You pulled your hand away. As Arthur turned around, you put your hands on his shoulders and pushed down with all of your strength. He was completely submerged. You let out a laugh of your own until you felt his hand on your ankle. Just like that, you were back underwater. You could just barely make out Arthur swimming back for air. You did the same. You pushed your hair out of your face. It was the first time that you had smiled in what felt like months.

You laid on your back and let yourself float. You looked up at the night sky. If Arthur was feeling this good, then their days on the mountain were numbered. If it was just the two of them, they could get off with relative ease. They could even make it back west, if they tried. Find someplace far away from the trains and settle there. Together. Make some kind of a life for whatever time that they had left. You wasn’t going back to being an outlaw. You knew that you could, if you really wanted to. You had been doing well for yourself before Arthur found you. Somehow, it felt wrong to think about going back to that life without the rest of the gang by your side.

Arthur entwined his fingers with yours. You looked over at him. He was staring at the sky, too. As you looked back up, you wondered what was causing that pensive look on his face. Was he worried about the same things you were? All you knew was that he was there and present. With his hand in your own, you could forget about the rest of the world. It was just the two of them in this moment, in their little secret spring. They were unburdened by the need for conversation. The only sound was the soft trickle of the stream.

Arthur let you go and swam to the edge. He pulled himself out of the water. Arthur shook his body like he was a dog, running his fingers through his hair. He leaned down and held out a hand to you. You swam over tentatively and took it. You still didn’t entirely trust Arthur now, not after that stunt. But there were no tricks up Arthur’s sleeve, not this time. He pulled you up with little difficulty, considering his leg wound.

You stood next to him for a moment, inches away from being flush against his chest. They had been forced to be close together over the past couple of weeks, sure, but this felt different somehow. You took a step back to get rid of the feeling. You didn’t like it and you didn’t like who was causing it.

On the sodden trek back to their temporary home, you kept your arms tight around yourself. By the time they got back to the cave, you were shivering. You made your way into the cave and started gathering up the blankets.

“Make sure to get out of those wet clothes, Arthur. The last thing we need is one of us catchin’ pneumonia,” you warned.

He nodded, facing towards the back of the cave as he started to unbutton his shirt. You stared at his back for longer than you should have. When you turned to face your own wall, your cheeks were burning. Quickly, you took off your own clothes and wrapped one of the blankets around yourself tightly. You set the clothes close to the entrance. You sat against one of the walls and leaned your head back. You let yourself dream of the virgin west for a short while before taking watch.

#arthur morgan x reader insert #arthur morgan x reader #arthur x reader insert #arthur x reader #reader insert #reader #fanfiction #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead #rdr2 #video games

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najatheangel · 3 years

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Hello can I ask for a written ship with NCT 127, Monsta X (ot7) and Ateez pretty please? 🥺 So my MBTI is ENFP, if you're not familiar with that type basically I'm the most extroverted, positive, energetic, friendly person you can meet 😂 also I'm the mood maker in my friend groups! I have to mention I'm usually attracted to people who are similar to me. My interests/hobbies are honestly too many from singing to drawing, watching movies, literature, psychology, astrology, tarot, sports etc. Also if it helps I'm a Leo Sun, Gemini Rising and Aries Moon. I have a lot of 🔥 in my chart 👀 You can say I'm very a passionate and strong-willed person, once I have a goal I don't stop until I make it happen! Thanks in advance for your reply looking forward to it, take care 😌🧡

@sofee-d Helloo sweetie thanks so much for being so patient your ship is finally here! Hope this made your day 10x better. Funny how you remind me of myself and how much we have in common so I enjoyed doing yours a whole lot!

From Nct 127, I ship you with...Johnny

Positive Side: You two would be the life of the party together! To start off, you are both very extroverted and the mood makers of your friend groups so when combined together, you two will make everyone burst into laughter. I have a feeling Johnny would be attracted to someone that has a similar personality as him so the friendship and romantic level of his relationship with you will stay strong. Also, Leo's and Aquarius's signs mesh very well together (considering he's the closest with Mark, their friendship is literal goals!) He's also very adventurous when it comes to planning dates with you since you both have a lot of hobbies and interests so it's never difficult for the both of you to have fun together. One day you can make ice cream together and have the members rate which recipe was the best. Other days, you would try new things such as going to get a tarot reading or get each other build-a-bears so whenever he's a way you can carry a piece of him whenever you go to sleep. Lastly, Johnny is the best supportive boyfriend when it comes to your goals. He's one of your biggest cheerleaders that'll always be the first to scream "You can do it!" or "Babe, don't give up!" Even when you start to have doubted yourself, his words instantly lifts your mood back up.

Negative Side: Like every couple sometimes they have a lack of trust in some areas of the relationship. Both of your views in life are similar and have similar goals you want to reach in your careers together, but sometimes the way to get there can make the journey 10x harder than it needs to be. In the beginning, Johnny made you nervous since he knows a lot of people including women and sometimes you'd hate to admit how jealous that would make you. Even when he started borrowing your things or taking to places you normally don't travel to, you became anxious and uncertain that Johnny is the right partner for you since he kept making you second guess yourself. "Johnny maybe you should ya know sometimes stop giving other girls the wrong idea. You tend to be too friendly with them." "Y/N what are you talking about? For the fifth time, she's just an old friend I've gone to high school with. When will you learn to trust me?" This tends to upset him especially for the number of months you've dated each other.

Overall: With Johnny almost giving up on building a healthier relationship with you, you finally realize that you want to share everything with him and learn to have faith in him that he won't leave you for another woman. After a two hour conversation with tears and smiles in the end he's happy that you finally allowed him to become closer to you even if it meant sharing clothes, exploring exotic places together, meeting each other's family, and even taking you almost everywhere with him to let him know he's all about you. "From now on promise that you will betray me and stay by my side, Mr. Suh." "I pinky swear on everything that won't happen. And of course, I love you after all."

Another Good Match: Jaehyun

From Monsta X, I ship you with...Shownu

Positive Side: Now this guy is a little different from Johnny he's more on the quiet and reserved side, but very kind and approachable when first meeting him. Shownu is a bit awkward and shy when first meeting people so with your outgoing personality, some sparks are bound to happen between the two of you. Once he feels interested in you, he would start showing small hints that he likes you such as offering to take you home, tieing your hair in a ponytail for you, staring at you smiling in an adorable way, etc... It starts off very gentle and sweet and then turns very spicy and naughty real fast. The chemistry is undeniable and the two of you are the best when it comes to intimacy. Besides the physical touching and adorable romance blooming between the two of you, he's the best when it comes to taking care of you. Nursing you back to health when you are sick, cooking for you when you forget to eat, helps study with you for your upcoming exams, and the best at remembering small details like your favorite movies so he can cheer you up. Overall future husband material if you ask me and makes the best pair with you.

Negative Side: Since you're very passionate about your work and have a lot of energy (as any fellow Leo would so I understand sis lol), on a bad day sometimes you shut yourself down and don't want to be bothered. So when Shownu keeps calling and checking in on you at times, it makes you frustrated, because you would just like your own peace of mind. When the roles are reversed, Shownu doesn't want to bother you because he feels it would add more unneeded stress on your part when you're supposed to worry about school or work. The fact that Shownu does that also makes you upset and worried that even though he's opened out of his shell for you, he can't share his problems with you.

Overall: Again cause love takes time and patience in order to grow, the two of you decided whenever you don't have anyone else to run to, it's best to depend on each other no matter how small or big the problem may be. It's gotten a lot easier instead of holding all your emotions inside because both of you are sensitive people. Shownu might be better at hiding it, but once he breaks down along with you, he doesn't hold back. In the end, your both each other happy place.

Another Good Match: I.M.

From Ateez, I ship you with...Hongjoong

Positive Side: Another innocent shy man with the same fiery burning passion for their work of art and relationship with you. In some ways, he's similar to you when it comes to having that creativity, hard-working and intelligent trait so it's wise that you would collab together with him on a lot of songs. I can imagine your relationship starting out strictly professional when you help assist him with producing and writing songs. He would always love to hear your input and would give you the heart eyes whenever you'd praise him. Until one night at the studio, he suddenly confessed his feelings for you through a song and that swept you right off your feet. You've started going on fun dates that the both of you enjoy such as going on study dates at the cafe, playing soccer in the park, and helping him shop for clothes (since he's a fashion icon ;)) He's also all about self-care too so whenever he would get too tired from working all day, he would sleep over at your place to take a shower with you, do face masks and he would allow you to give him a massage before he goes to sleep. Lastly, he's another leader that's the best at taking care of you the best way he can. By sending small gifts or surprising you at school with flowers in his hand and kissing you on the forehead in front of your classmates. Those small acts of happiness will keep the romance between you two alive.

Negative Side: You both have that same amount of love for your career, but sometimes overwork yourselves too hard to the point of taking your frustration out on each other over small things. Although both of you don't mean it, it tends to still hurt the other person leaving them to feel unwanted.

Overall: That still doesn't defeat the fact that you both will still keep trying until the other person feels better in the end. After all, that's how much you care for each other and won't leave the other person behind after one bad argument on a bad day.

Another Good Match: Wooyoung

Out of the three handsome men, I ship you with Johnny the most...

#submission #written ships #ateez ships #nct 127 ships #nct ships #monsta x ships #shownu #monsta x #ateez #hongjoong #nct 127 #nct #johnny

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fieryanmitsu · 4 years

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Since I saw that you like ikemen series as well I was wondering 👉🏻👈🏻 who do you think from the ikemen series would get along with each other? Like Sirius and Tsumugi tending to a garden together :3

Hi there Nonnie~ Oh man, that’s not something I’ve ever thought about, but now that you mention it… My mind is now on overdrive, HAHA! I was just going to throw around some thoughts off the top of my head, but before I knew it… it kinda blew up into a super long and full blown headcanon about what would happen if Mankai Company got transported to Cradle?!?!

I’m sorry, you were just asking me such a general question about the Ikemen series in general, but I ended up going on a huge IkeRev ramble. Anyway, here’s my long and convoluted headcanon of who I think would get along with each other between the main cast of A3! and Ikemen Revolution!

This got so out of hand and is ridiculously long, haha. Feel free to just skim for the bolded headings, which state who I think would be paired well together. But if you want, you can read the rest of my nonsense! Hope you enjoy this train wreck, haha!

MANKAI COMPANY IN CRADLE! (an A3! x Ikemen Revolution crossover headcanon)

CHARACTERS: All Troupes from A3! (plus Izumi) and all suitors from Ikemen Revolution (plus Alice)

My fanfic masterpost: Here

Prologue

On the night of the full moon, (another) mysterious door opens up at Mankai Company. Matsukawa discovers the room first. When he finds out that the door opens into a into a giant gaping hole, he freaks out and calls Izumi over to examine it.

When Izumi goes to check it out, all of the actors get curious as well and follow. However, when Izumi leans over to try and look down into the hole, Matsukawa accidentally knocks her into the hole and she falls in.

Masumi and Sakyo are the first to try and jump in after her, but they end up struggling with each other to see who should go first. Omi and Tsuzuru try to break them up, but all four of them end up falling in during the scuffle.

As he falls, Tsuzuru reflexively reaches out and grabs the closest thing to him, which happens to be a quaking Tenma, and the Summer Troupe leader gets dragged down with him.

The rest of the Autumn Troupe don’t hesitate to jump in after their oldest members to try and help them out.

Itaru and Sakuya are concerned, but much more cautious about whether they should just blindly jump down the hole. Itaru thinks they should call the fire department instead.

Citron says that they have to find a way to save their friends, but that, in such a drastic situation, it would be better to “jump first and think later.” Itaru says: “I think you mean to say ‘look before you leap’.” Citron’s response is: “No no no! I mean exactly what I said.” And then Citron, without any remorse, shoves both Itaru and Sakuya into the hole and dives right in behind them.

Misumi thinks they’re playing a game after seeing Citron dive right in. Thinking that there might be triangles in the hole, he shakes Hisoka awake (since Hisoka is good at jumping, so he should come with him). Hisoka miraculously wakes up long enough to be dragged into the hole with Misumi (and still has no idea what’s going on even as he falls).

Homare tries to save Hisoka, but ends up tumbling in after him.

Muku and Tsumugi are in a panic as they see their fellow troupe members falling into the hole. They’re beside themselves with what to do and somehow settle on: “We need to go after them!” They scrunch up their eyes and leap before they can think better of it.

Tasuku and Yuki yell to stop them, but it’s too late. They can’t believe what’s happening – has everyone lost the last of their brain cells?!

Azuma laughs at the absurdity of the situation, and claps both Tasuku and Yuki on the shoulder. He smiles at them serenely and just says: “Well, this kind of thing doesn’t happen every day, we may as well join the fun, right?”

“NO, THAT’S A TERRIBLE IDEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”

Kazunari is the last one left, but only because he’s been filming it all on his smartphone so that he can upload it to his Instablam later. He gives the camera a victory sign before he steps off backwards into the hole and screams as he falls (but that red light keeps blinking away).

Matsukawa faints from the shock.

The whole Mankai Company arrives safe and sound in Cradle, somehow, but they happen to crash land into a joint Red and Black Army tea party being held at the Civic Centre to celebrate the recent peace treaty.

It is absolute chaos considering a group of 21 people suddenly fell from the sky, but with Blanc’s help they sort out the situation.

Blanc informs them that there’s some kind of bizarre once-in-a-hundred-years astrological phenomenon that has made the boundaries between Cradle and the Land of Reason even more unstable than usual, and that’s how the portal between the worlds had opened so suddenly. Luckily, according to his almanac, the portal will open again at midnight (rather than one month later) and the Mankai Company actors and director will be able to get back safely at that time.

Until then, the Red and Black Army decide to graciously host their guests for the day until the portal opens.

[THE REST UNDER THE CUT]

Alice and Izumi

It might be because they’re both “main characters”, but Alice and Izumi get along right away. Alice is the first to strike up a conversation since it’s been a while since she’s met another young woman close to her age.

Izumi feels more relieved after talking with Alice and learning that she is also from the Land of Reason.

The two young women end up finding out that they have a lot in common – especially when it came to their appetite. When Alice finds out that Izumi loves curry, she offers to take her to one of the local curry restaurants in Central Quarter (which serves a curry quite similar to the ones in London).

Izumi is full speed ahead and they’re gone before the Mankai boys can even notice she’s missing.

Ray and Sakuya

Sakuya and Ray hit it off right away. Sakuya tells Ray all about Mankai Company and how they are actors. Ray’s love of reading and books extends to plays as well and the two start chatting about the different plays that each world has.

Ray offers to show Sakuya some of the plays in his library collection and the two end up going back to the Black Army headquarters.

Sakuya happens to have their latest script in his pocket (since he had just been reading it before the whole incident happened) and lets Ray read it. Ray is captivated by Tsuzuru’s script and devours it.

In Ray’s room, Sakuya meets Belle and is instantly in love. He adores cats and has the time of his life reading through plays and exchanging thoughts with Ray as Belle purrs away in his lap.

Fenrir, Kazunari and Taichi

Fenrir’s friendly demeanor immediately catches Kazunari’s attention and the two mesh instantly. Kazunari is excited about everything, and Fenrir is completely raring to show off his amazing home to the newcomers.

Taichi feels a bit overwhelmed by everything that’s happening around him and doesn’t quite know where to turn first. Fenrir, used to looking out for the newest recruits, catches on to this instantly and puts a hand on Taichi’s shoulder and introduces himself. He immediately asks if he wants to come along with him and Kazu to check out the town.

The youngest Autumn Troupe member instantly brightens at this thought and agrees enthusiastically. For some reason, Taichi reminds Fenrir of Shu Shu, and Fenrir takes an immediate liking to the younger boy.

The three of them set out on the town and Fenrir takes them to his favourite haunts all around Central Quarter. While out in town, they even find an interesting toy that’s similar to a yo-yo and Taichi shows off his skills. Fenrir turns it into a competition. Kazunari becomes an impromptu emcee and narrates the entire competition to the amusement of nearby citizens.

Kazunari also shows Fenrir his phone and shows him how to take selfies. Fenrir doesn’t quite understand the technology behind it, but seeing his image show up immediately on the screen amuses him to no end and the three of them end up snapping photos all around the Central Quarter.

Seth and Yuki

Seth immediately takes notice of Yuki because of his cute looks and fashionable outfit. The 10 of Spades compliments Yuki, but Yuki isn’t impressed – of course he’s cute, that was a given.

Yuki only gives Seth the time of day when Seth adds: “You put even girls to shame!” It wasn’t often that someone picked up that he was a boy right away.

Seeing Yuki open up, Seth immediately invites Yuki to go shopping with him. Seth hasn’t had the urge to dress someone up this badly since Alice came into their lives and he just knows that Yuki would look absolutely adorable in Cradle’s latest fashion.

Intrigued by the notion of seeing this foreign country’s clothes, Yuki agrees to go with him. They spend the entire day going from store to store admiring and trying on different outfits.

Seth ends up buying Yuki a huge bag of cute outfits and fabrics for him to take home as a gift (paid out of Sirius’ wallet – but he didn’t know that yet).

Luka, Muku and Omi

Muku is too shy and intimidated to talk to anyone, so he just hangs out along the sidelines. But, the poor boy hadn’t eaten lunch yet when the incident happened and soon his stomach grumbles so loudly that Luka, also standing quietly nearby, hears it.

Never one to leave someone hungry, Luka grabs a plate of some of the dainties leftover from the tea party and offers it to Muku.

The pink-haired boy is flustered at first, but his hunger overrides his embarrassment. As soon as he takes the first bite of a scone, he’s amazed at the taste. It was just as good as Omi’s – maybe even better!

In fact, Omi happened to be within eyesight, and Muku immediately calls him over and has him try some as well.

Omi is very impressed and wonders if he could somehow talk to the chef who made this, because he’d love to exchange recipes and ideas.

At this point, Luka is blushing because the two actors have turned their attention to him for a response. He quietly admits that he was the one who had baked for the tea party that day.

Before he knows it, he’s somehow taken Omi and Muku back to the Black Army’s headquarters and they spend the rest of the day exchanging recipes and cooking a gigantic dinner feast (with Muku as their cute assistant) for everyone to eat.

Sirius, Tsumugi and Sakyo

Sirius ends up talking to Sakyo after seeing Sakyo yelling at Banri and Juza to stop fighting. He offers his condolences to Sakyo and says that he sympathizes with him – he’s got his own crew of rowdy children to look after, too.

They end up venting to each other about all the trouble they have to deal with and find kindred spirits in each other. Of course, they also end up bragging about their “kids” too, but they would never admit that.

Nearby, Tsumugi is automatically attracted to the flowers in the Civic Centre gardens and can’t help admiring them. He is practically falling into the bushes, he’s so excited.

From where he’s standing with Sakyo, Sirius sees this and asks Tsumugi if he’s interested in the flowers. Tsumugi replies enthusiastically that he is and Sirius, happy to see someone so interested in gardening, offers to show both him and Sakyo around the gardens more.

Sirius ends up taking them around to his family’s flower shop as well once they finish their tour of the Civic Centre garden. Tsumugi is asking him questions at a mile a minute while Sirius’ siblings pester Sakyo with questions about the Land of Reason.

Eventually they return to the Black Army headquarters and all pitch in to help Luka and Omi finish making dinner and set the tables.

Jonah and Juza

Juza doesn’t really understand too much of what’s going on, but he’s immediately attracted to all of the leftover desserts from the tea party. When he thinks no one is looking, he sneaks a plate and shoves the dessert into his mouth. The sweets are one of the best he’s ever had and he can’t stop eating them.

Jonah spots him sneaking the desserts and confronts him when he realizes that all of the leftovers are gone. He’s furious because he had wanted to eat some, too.

Juza blanches when he turns around and comes face to face with Jonah. He knows that this man is important, and ends up looking at the ground and apologizing for eating all of the desserts, but that he couldn’t help it because the best desserts were the best he’s ever had.

Jonah had meant to scold him, but the second he hears Juza’s compliments about Luka’s baking, he immediately goes into a tirade: “Of course they are the best desserts, my dearest Luka made them after all.”

Jonah determines that Juza is clearly someone who has good taste and it really would be a waste to let him go home without trying more of Cradle’s sweet delicacies. Also, Jonah still hasn’t satisfied his sweet tooth.

He orders Juza to follow him and ends up taking him around to all of his favourite dessert shops in the Central Quarter. The Queen of Hearts is quite pleased with his company, since Juza listens quietly to everything he says and always nods in agreement. He supposes that he could adopt him as another little brother for the day and buys him many boxes of desserts to bring home as a souvenir.

Kyle and Azuma

When the formalities end, Kyle immediately yells out that he wants to go for a drink. He tries to ask Blanc and Oliver to go with him to Oasis, but they’re both occupied with talking to the newcomers and he’s ignored.

Kyle is about to resign himself to drinking alone when a soft voice interrupts him and asks: “Did you say you were looking for a drinking companion?”

Kyle isn’t picky and is ecstatic to find a new friend to drink with. He immediately leads Azuma to Dum’s bar and grabs them seats at his usual table. Kyle orders his beer and Azuma starts off with a bottle of red wine.

The wine in Cradle tastes completely different from the wine he’s had before, and Azuma soon orders glass after glass of different wines. Kyle’s just happy to have such an enthusiastic drinking buddy and offers to pay for it all (since Azuma didn’t have any money he could pay with anyway).

It doesn’t take long for Kyle to get completely sloshed, but Azuma finds him to be a very cute drunk. The actor enjoys listening to Kyle’s drunken rambling since it made for boisterous and cheerful company.

At one point in the evening, Azuma is surprised to see that Banri is suddenly the one serving him his wine, but the Autumn Troupe leader just shrugs and saunters off to serve another table.

It was hours later when Fenrir, Kazunari and Taichi stumble upon them and they all head back to the Black Army’s headquarters together. Kyle has to be carried on Fenrir’s back the entire way.

Edgar and Itaru

Even though his phone has no signal, Itaru wasn’t bothered for once, because being transported to another world was the epitome of every nerd’s highest fantasy. He can’t help himself from examining everything around him – you never know if there’s a hidden item somewhere, after all.

Edgar finds Itaru’s behaviour to be curious and keeps an eye on the other man who is scrutinizing everything in detail. Eventually, he sneaks up behind him and asks: “Are you looking for something?”

Itaru jumps, but quickly covers up his surprise and gives Edgar one of his classic disarming smiles and just says that he’s fascinated because they’re in a different world.

Edgar is impressed by Itaru’s composure. He’s a bit suspicious of him, because he was obviously hiding something beneath a very well-made mask, but decides that this makes him very interesting. Since he was bored, he decides that chatting with Itaru will be quite fun.

Edgar soon finds out that Itaru is hungry and takes him over to the food table, but they find that there’s nothing left (which is odd, since he remembered there being a lot of leftovers). He catches Itaru sigh and mutter under his breath: “Man, even a bag of chips right now would be good.” Hearing a familiar word, Edgar asks: “Chips? Do you mean fish and chips?” Itaru looks at him with wide eyes and says: “Huh? Fish and chips? I guess we must be in an AU England.”

Edgar has no idea what half of those words mean, but the two soon find out that they both share a love of junk food and the Jack of Hearts takes Itaru to sample various junk food around the Central Quarter.

Itaru also greatly enjoys just walking around the town and admiring every aspect. Edgar often catches him muttering incomprehensible words under his breath, but shrugs it away.

Eventually they return to the Red Army’s base and run into Zero and Masumi. It’s at this point that they discover something else they have in common: they both enjoy mercilessly teasing their colleagues.

Lancelot and Citron

Citron immediately picks up on Lancelot’s regal aura and can’t help but scrutinize him silently. He wonders what kind of king he is, especially with such a stoic face.

Lancelot awkwardly tries to ignore the strange man staring a hole into his head and eventually turns to look at Citron and asks him if he can help him with anything.

Citron is surprised because he didn’t expect the other man to talk to him. Caught off guard, Citron spins an elaborate story about how, in his country, calling out to another person in public is a rude greeting and, instead, one must communicate your intentions through headwaves by staring at the other person until they sense your presence.

Lancelot, gullible as he is, immediately believes Citron and apologizes for not understanding his culture and asks if Citron can tell him more. Citron doesn’t miss the curious glimmer in the other man’s eyes and, soon has Lancelot hanging onto his every (unbelievable) word – though Lancelot sometimes has problems understanding exactly what he’s saying.

At one point Citron speaks about how he has a pet leopard, to which Lancelot replies: “Ah, I understand. I have a pet lion.”

Citron is immediately captivated and instantly demands to meet Shine. Lancelot ends up taking him back to the Red Army’s base and they spend the next few hours playing with Shine.

Zero and Masumi

After losing sight of Izumi, Masumi loses interest in everything and ends up being dragged along with Citron back to the Red Army base.

Zero follows his King and returns with them as well. Once they get back, Zero resumes his afternoon training drills with his soldiers.

Masumi, with nothing else to do, ends up taking a seat in the garden and watches Zero’s training. As he watches, he realizes that Zero’s stances and fighting look really good and he tries to memorize his movements in the hopes that he can use it to improve his stage fighting skills. After all, if he gets even better, then Izumi will give him more compliments and maybe she’ll even reward him with a date.

As soon as Zero dismisses his men, Masumi goes up to him and demands that he train him too.

Zero is surprised at the sudden request, but seeing Masumi’s determined face, he decides to go along with it.

The two of them spend the next several hours training with practice swords and Zero is impressed with how quickly Masumi picks up on his instruction. He thinks that Masumi is a bit odd, but very earnest and can appreciate how much effort he is putting in.

Though he hadn’t intended to, Masumi ends up enjoying himself more than he expects. Zero is a patient teacher and he finds the exercise invigorating.

The fun ends, though, when Edgar and Itaru return and start messing with them. Edgar remarks that they could be twins considering the identical scathing expressions on their faces.

Blanc and Tsuzuru

Somehow or another, the Red and Black Army officers had all trickled out of the Civic Centre along with several Mankai Company members.

Tsuzuru, Tenma, Misumi, Tasuku and Homare realize that they are the only Mankai Company members left behind. Even their director was gone.

Blanc notices that they are unsure of what to do and graciously invites them over to his home for a rest and some tea.

With no other option left to them, the remaining Mankai Company members follow Blanc and Oliver back to their home.

As they walk through the Central Quarter, Blanc informs them that he is the record keeper of Cradle. This immediately catches Tsuzuru’s attention. Once he realizes that this means that Blanc observes and records the events of all that happens, he immediately starts bombarding the white-haired man with questions about his writing techniques.

When they get to Blanc’s home, Tsuzuru ends up spending his day poring over Blanc’s records, devouring ideas and writing styles. Blanc happily answers his questions as he pours the scriptwriter tea and cuts him carrot cake.

Blanc and Tsuzuru are too distracted to realize that, on the way to Blanc’s home, they had actually somehow lost every other member of their party except for Oliver and Tasuku.

Oliver and Tasuku

While walking back to Blanc and Oliver’s house, Tasuku can’t help but scrutinize the technology and machinery around them. He immediately picks up that there is no electricity and that the lamps are not powered with the usual means he’s seen in the Land of Reason.

He unconsciously remarks on this out loud and Oliver is impressed, as he hadn’t expected any of them to notice this. Seeing Tasuku’s curiosity, Oliver explains to him how Cradle’s technology primarily runs on magic crystals.

Tasuku’s love of machines immediately takes over and he and Oliver are soon deep in discussion as the taller man asks question after question.

Oliver finds Tasuku to be forthcoming and intelligent, which was a pleasant change from his usual air-headed company. When they arrive at Blanc and Oliver’s home, Oliver takes Tasuku to his workshop and shows him the various gadgets he’s been working on.

Tasuku is absorbed right away and even helps Oliver with some of his repairs, picking up quickly on the unfamiliar technology.

It’s not until the sun begins to set that he realizes he hasn’t even bothered to eat or drink. It’s also at this point that Tasuku realizes that it’s been much too quiet and that this is because they are missing many (noisy) members of their party.

Dean and Homare

Homare follows the others as they head to Blanc’s house, but as they walk through the Central Quarter, he becomes quite taken by his surroundings. Everything is so different and beautiful, and suddenly he is hit by inspiration.

He stops walking and recites a poem, quickly jotting it down in a notebook before he forgets his genius. However, when he looks up, everyone is gone and he’s alone.

Not one to let the situation get him down, he follows his instincts and wanders about the Central Quarter until he finds a bookstore. He walks in and is captivated by all of the new books that he has never seen before.

At one point he reaches out for a poetry book and bumps into someone who was reaching for the same book and comes face to face with Dean.

The professor had been looking for new books for his lesson planning. He hadn’t expected someone else to be in this bookstore, which was off the beaten path.

Dean strikes up a conversation with Homare out of curiosity. What he thought would be passing casual conversation turns into an hours-long poetry seminar courtesy of Homare.

Dean somehow can’t find the willpower to get away – Homare’s poetry was bizarre and morbidly fascinating.

Eventually he finds out that Homare is lost and leads him to Blanc’s house, where they arrive just in time to see the others preparing to come out to look for them.

Loki and Misumi

As soon as they had exited the Civic Centre, Misumi was immediately distracted by all the things – after all, there must be tons of new triangles to find in this new place. Before anyone can stop him (and Banri tries), he shoots off into the crowds and leaves everyone in his dust.

It isn’t long before he catches his first triangle: “Gotcha, triangle kitty~”

It turns out that the triangles were the ones attached to the top of Loki’s hood.

Loki is alarmed that someone has managed to sneak up on him as he was playing with his cat friends. Intrigued by this stranger, he asks Misumi where he’s from and Misumi explains, while playing with the cats around them, that he and his friends fell out of a giant hole in the sky.

Before Loki can ask any more questions, Misumi declares that he’s going to go hunt for triangles and that the Triangle Kitty should come too, because he’s sure that he’d be great at it.

Loki doesn’t understand what a triangle hunt is supposed to be, but decides that since his cat friends trusted Misumi, then he can’t be that bad of a person. Not to mention, he was bored anyway since Alice was occupied with that stupid boring tea party and Misumi looked like he could be a great source of entertainment.

They end up running around all of Central Quarter and eventually end up in the Forbidden Forest. There they run into Harr, along with someone else that Harr had bumped into, and they all head back to Blanc’s house together.

Dum and Banri

Banri tries to chase after Misumi when the other boy suddenly broke off from the group. However, he soon loses him and finds that he has also lost the main group.

Grumbling to himself about his bad luck, Banri accidentally wanders into a back alley and gets cornered by a couple of thugs who try to rob him.

Banri wants to beat them up, but notices that they’re carrying knives. Instead, he tosses a nearby flowerpot at them before he books it down the alley.

They cause quite a ruckus as they dash through the side streets, and Banri quickly ducks into an open doorway and hopes that he can hide until he’s sure he’s lost the thugs.

Turns out he had dashed through the back door of a kitchen and comes face to face with Dum, who is not amused by some street rat running onto his turf.

He’s about to kick Banri out, but Banri begs to let him stay for a bit since he’s trying to lose the thugs (he can hear them yelling outside). Dum reluctantly lets him stay, but tells him he needs to work for it.

At first, he tells Banri to peel some potatoes, but Banri negotiates with him to let him help out at the front of the house instead (since peeling potatoes was boring).

Dum finds Banri’s sassy attitude to be amusing – and also picks up quite quickly that he’s from the Land of Reason. He gives Banri a chance and the actor soon charms all of the customers into buying extra food and drinks. At the end of the night he just gives Dum a cocky “I told you so” grin.

When Fenrir and company arrive to tell them about the dinner feast plans, Banri tells Dum that he should come along as thanks for helping him out. Since it was a weeknight anyway, Dum decides to take him up on the offer – this boy was proving to be very amusing and it wasn’t every day that he was presented with such an interesting opportunity.

Harr and Tenma

Tenma panics when Misumi, Banri and Homare get separated from them. But, the streets are crowded and he realizes it’s no use to try and find them when he didn’t know where he was going. Instead, he focuses his attention on following Blanc, Oliver, Tsuzuru and Tasuku.

However, as they pass through a busy market, the crown jostles him away from the others and he soon loses them in the crowd.

He tries to remain calm as he makes his way through the street and even asks for directions to find Blanc’s house – the old ladies at the stalls were especially nice about helping him.

However, even though he’s sure he followed their directions properly, he soon finds himself walking through a forest and it’s dark and eerie and – did he just hear something?!

Tenma screams when he feels someone clap a hand on his shoulder. He spins around and sees a strange face with a mask and, thinking he is seeing some kind of ghost or monster, he runs away deeper into the forest. He bursts into a clearing, but trips and ends up falling straight into the lake.

Harr had been taking a walk through the woods when he had seen the young man, looking clearly lost. Seeing him fall into the lake, he quickly runs over and pulls him out of the water.

Tenma is shaking like a rain-soaked kitten, so Harr leads Tenma back to his home to dry him off.

At first, Tenma is too scared to say anything and only manages to start talking when Harr offers him a lollipop. Tenma scoffs that he isn’t a child, but he takes the lollipop anyway and puts it in his mouth.

Harr smiles – he’s reminded of how Loki was when they first met. It seems he’s good at picking up stray cats.

Eventually, Harr figures out the situation and offers to lead Tenma back to Blanc’s house. Tenma clings to the back of Harr’s coat the entire way, looking around furtively and jumping at every shadow.

On their way, they run into Loki and Misumi. They arrive at Blanc’s just in time to see the record keeper receiving a message from a Black Army messenger.

Mousse and Hisoka

Taking advantage of the hubbub, Mousse sneaks off to sleep under a tree in the garden (making sure that Jonah didn’t spot him).

With no marshmallows in sight, Hisoka felt his eyes beginning to close. Before he completely lost consciousness, he saw a figure sprawled out under a tree. He thinks that this must mean that it was a designated napping spot – why else would there be someone sleeping there?

Thankful for this discovery, Hisoka stumbles his way over over to Mousse and curls up on the soft gross. The tree provides the perfect amount of shade and the flowers there smelled just as nice as whatever Azuma used to scent his room. It didn’t take long for Hisoka to drift off.

He doesn’t wake up until Homare and Tasuku (along with the white-haired bunny man) come to find him.

The man next to him also wakes up at that time. He non-chalantly turns towards Hisoka and says: “This is a great spot for a nap, isn’t it?” Hisoka responds with a nod.

Epilogue

Ray had sent messengers to the Red Army and Blanc to inform them that they had prepared a feast at the Black Army’s headquarters for their guests, so everyone eventually trickles into the Black Army’s base by the time dinner starts.

Some unexpected guests also pop by, but no one particularly minded.

Everyone enjoys the feast prepared by Omi and Luka. Even those who had been eating beforehand found their appetites returning at the sight and smell of the delicious food in front of them.

After the meal, everyone says their goodbyes to the new friends they made. Even though their time together had been short, everyone would treasure the memories of their experiences that day.

Blanc, Alice and the two Kings lead the Mankai Company back to the Civic Centre’s rooftop garden. As predicted by Blanc, there was indeed a giant hole in the ground.

Bidding their farewells one last time, the Mankai Company jumped through the hole, and after what felt like minutes of falling, they finally saw a blinding light rushing up to meet them.

Moments later, they all tumbled out onto soft green grass in a giant pile-up.

After an exciting and unbelievable day, they were finally back home.

FIN

To anyone who stuck around through this entire thing, thank you for reading, haha! I hope you enjoyed this random bit of nonsense! I still have three routes to play, so hopefully I didn’t mess up anyone’s personalities (especially with the new characters as I don’t have much knowledge of them yet)!

I think that there could be a lot of other character combinations that would get along with each other, but I wanted to make sure that each main character from A3! and IkeRev were featured, so these were the combinations that I ended up with without having to compromise too much!

Thanks for dropping such a fun topic into my inbox, Anon!! Hope to see you around again!

-Anmitsu

#a3!#a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#ikerev #ikemen revolution #a3! x ikemen revolution crossover #crossover #anmitsu writes #anmitsu chats

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 4 years

Text

Tulip x Merula Head-canons

(I had someone on Anon ask me about this. But the answer ended up being so long that I didn’t want to risk Tumblr crashing and eating the message. So I made it a full post.)

You have come to the right place, my friend.

I do like Tulula. They’re easily my OTP for this game. The only question is where to begin?

How they met. I feel like Tulip had a personal goal in mind when she arrived at Hogwarts. She wanted to prank every single person in her year. Had a little list. I also think that from the moment she saw Merula, she could see something special. Saw someone who would be a challenge. So she saved her for last. But out of all thirty-some odd students in Tulip’s year, the only one who saw her coming and stopped her, successfully pranking her back instead, was Merula. The ultimate uno reverse. All this time, Merula has been hearing rumors about a pranking menace and resolved to prove her superiority, as Merula is wanton to do. If we want, we can tie this in with the “You are a [House!]” quests. To me, the one that feels the most canon is Slytheirn pranking Gryffindor, but imagine if Tulip helped people prank Slytherin (even if MC wasn’t in Ravenclaw) and Merula caught her in the act. Just imagine Merula shoving Tulip into the lake. Tulip surfacing, spitting water, flabbergasted that she’s been bested, looking up at Merula and thinking that she was right. Merula really is something else. Tulip doesn’t react the way most people do when Merula “defeats” them. She’s charmed and impressed and wants to talk to her more. This is a surprise for Merula, but she accepts the attention and the two of them start talking. I like to imagine that the Slytherin prank on Gryffindor occurred later in the year, and that Merula participated after being inspired by Tulip.

Okay, we need to talk about something important. Parents. I strongly believe that Tulip and Merula’s parents are foils to each other, and to their kids. They couldn’t be greater opposites. But while Merula is a lot like her parents and wants to gravitate to their lifestyle so much to the point that it’s unhealthy...Tulip is in the reverse. She completely rejects the lifestyle of her parents because they make no attempt to understand her nature or meet her halfway. I feel like she doesn’t talk to them much at all, even during the summers. Tulip tries to change herself to be more like Merula, if that makes sense, and Merula welcomes this change. She’s never had someone like Tulip before, and isn’t even sure what to call it. Are they friends now? Or...are they…? But there’s another major secret that I strongly believe in. I like to imagine that Tulip’s parents played no small part in the arrest of Merula’s parents. I don’t know if they’re Aurors exactly (If they are, and the Rotfang Theory is true...then yikes.) But they would almost certainly work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I like to imagine that Merula was furious when she found out, possibly at the start of second year. Pushing Tulip away. But here’s the thing - Tulip was just as upset by this news. She entirely took the side of Merula’s parents and told her as much. Merula softened, and they reconciled, with Tulip accepting that Merula would (justifiably) always hate her parents. I don’t think Tulip’s relationship with them ever recovered from this.

I think Tulip and Merula learned each other’s love languages rather quickly. I think Merula began to realize that all she needed to do was involve Tulip in all of her crazy schemes, her moves against MC, or her ongoing quest for glory. If she just did that, Tulip would be overjoyed, because it was all so much mayhem, and it was a journey they were embarking together. Meanwhile, Tulip deduced early on that Merula had a taste for power and that her ego was very fragile. She knew how to console Merula and knew what to say to ease her insecurities and anger, without appearing to do so on purpose. She wasn’t intimidated, but she knew to pick her battles and that there was a time and place to just let Merula win. I strongly believe that no one at Hogwarts has ever understood Merula the way Tulip does. There’s a reason she instantly picked up on Merula’s saving face and pretending to have manipulated MC if they give her the Frog Choir spot. She knows her grumpy bae. This is a relationship of mutual manipulation, but not always to an unhealthy extent. Because Merula genuinely grew to care for Tulip, and Tulip knew how to use manipulation to help Merula feel better about everything. In short, their adventures, interests and goals all coincided well, and they both planned to be Curse-Breakers after Hogwarts, and travel together. They also resolved to keep their friendship a secret because of Merula’s reputation, hence Merula never referring to her “associate” by name. It made things a lot easier because people were more likely to trust Tulip if they didn’t know she was friendly with the “best witch at Hogwarts.” Plus, y’know, secrets create a unique bond that builds the emotional connection...oh and also, that excellent closested lesbian subtext, even if the Potterverse doesn’t have homophobia.

The Room of Requirement. Okay, I’ve had this head-canon for a while that the Room is alive and was always meant to function as a sanctuary. That’s what it became for the D.A. in OOTP, that’s really what it became for Draco in HBP, and that’s what it became in DH for the entire resistance. I also like the idea of two people who are both outcasts yet drawn to each other, finding it together and discovering it as a place that is just built for the two of them. (Or more than two. This can apply to poly-ships, and non-romantic ships.) This is what I imagine happened between Tulip and Merula. While investigating Vaults, they found this room, and figured out how it was sometimes there and sometimes not. That it would change shape. Eventually, they ruled it out as being a Cursed Vault. But not before it became a sanctuary for them. Time for a little overlap. It had previously become a sanctuary for Jacob, Duncan Ashe, and perhaps Olivia Green - before or after she suffered her fate. It was in this Room that Merula found a clue to where Jacob’s Room was hidden. It was also in this room that Tulip and Merula did most of their plotting before they found Jacob’s Room. They chose to migrate there, however, because the Room of Requirement was so unpredictable. But every now and then, when they needed it most, when the wind stood fair, that sanctuary would show up again, and they’d go there to talk and probably fall asleep together. I dunno, I just like the idea that they (innocently) shared a bed and it’s recycled from my fanfic. In that same sense, I feel like they never told anyone else about this Room and were never able to trigger it unless they were together.

I believe that both Tulip and Merula rubbed off on each other a little. The moment that comes to mind for me is during the Creatures TLSQ. Merula supersizes a Niffler to let it run amok across the castle and she’s laughing like it’s the dandiest thing in the world. That seem a bit odd to anyone else? Feels like the kind of thing Tonks would do if she got drunk or something, not a Merula Snyde scheme. No, I think Merula was either trying to make Tulip happy (and definitely succeeding) or else she had just acquired a bit of a taste for chaos as well, having spent so much time with Tulip in all of her crazy pranks. I dunno, it just reminds me so much of Tulip’s stunt from Year 5 with the army of nifflers. Her unironic joy at what she’s done, how pleased she is with herself...these two incidents bear a striking resemblance. Similarly, looking back on Tulip’s character...does it strike anyone else as a bit out of sorts for her to betray Merula for the sake of glory? Not saying Tulip is perfect or that she wouldn’t do this, because it’s a crucial part of her character that she would, but...for glory? Since when does Tulip care about glory? All she’s ever wanted is to cause chaos. Well, I feel as though a taste for power rubbed off on her from spending so much time with Merula and appreciating her talents when no one else did.

Okay, let’s talk about the falling-out. I believe Tulip tried to embody Merula’s ideology so much, and it overlapped with her own flaws, that it created a stew that was destined to be rotten. I think Tulip, having grown up with the family she did, has always been the kind of person who will turn on someone and go no-contact if she doesn’t mesh with them. I also think that by this point, she had alienated most of the other Hogwarts’ students. Either because she had pranked them, or because they had worked out that she was spending time with Merula. I also feel like Tulip may have resented Merula for this, because that’s just human nature. Now, Merula doesn’t develop loyalty for people very often. But it’s an absolute soul-crusher if someone she was loyal to betrays her, and I think to a degree that started with her parents, but it really fleshed out with this incident. Tulip’s upbringing led her to the mindset of, “If I have to cut you off, I will.” and Merula’s upbringing was just the opposite. It was more like “Only a few people truly matter, so you better not leave me.” And Tulip did. I think she convinced herself that she didn’t need Merula, that Merula was holding her back. Kept thinking about Merula’s flaws and toxic qualities, figured she could carry on with the Cursed Vault quest on her own. Jacob’s Sibling was proof enough that one didn’t need Merula to be a budding Curse-Breaker. So she ditched Merula. And everything fell apart for both of them.

I want to say that Tulip immediately, and I mean immediately regretted this decision, but also knew that she could never take it back. The damage had been done, and there was no way she could ever hope to apologize to Merula or ask to be taken back. That just was not a language that Merula knew how to speak. She only knew how to translate things in terms of power and strength. She had been burned by Tulip, humiliated. Hurt. That was something that Merula surely wouldn’t ever forgive, at least not from Tulip’s perspective. And from Merula’s? Well, Tulip was just using her. Never cared about her. Was always going to stab her in the back. And it was her own fault for not seeing it sooner. Anger. Resentment. Betrayal. The angst, my friend. But it gets worse, because then Tulip was approached by Jacob’s Sibling, Merula’s own nemesis, who proposed that they join forces. As crazy as it may sound, Tulip was itching to get back into adventuring and questing. She also knew this was her greatest chance to cross paths with Merula again. By competing against her. Again, it sounds ridiculous, but this is Merula that we’re talking about. Of course, though she was right, it didn’t erase the added insult to injury. Merula was forced to deal not only with Tulip abandoning her, but also her going over to side with Jacob’s Sibling. It made her more determined than ever to stick it to Tulip. Seriously, have you noticed that Merula defaults to anger and “revenge” when people she had grown to love stab her in the pact? It’s a depressing pattern in her life.

Adding onto that, the question becomes - when did Tulip and Merula know that they loved each other? Of course, there may have been moments of open infatuation during their first two years at Hogwarts. I envision them being each other’s valentines (because who else would be?) cuddling a lot whenever they’d crash together. Perhaps they shared a kiss at some point. Who knows. But while they may have expressed feelings to each other, I feel like they weren’t ever officially a couple. I mean, they were still preteens and whatnot. So their falling-out wasn’t a “break-up” but it had elements of that. It had that tone. Even so, the ambiguity and lack of a label almost makes it that much worse. What I’m driving at is - they definitely hadn’t exchanged the “I love you” bomb before they parted ways. I believe Tulip knew the moment that she had betrayed Merula that she had make a mistake. That from that point, it hit her just how much she had given up. How much she missed Merula. How much she regretted losing her, how it was never about glory - just about her. In that moment, Tulip knew. It wasn’t just friendship. It wasn’t even just a crush. She was in love with the Best Witch at Hogwarts. Contrasting that, I think that while Tulip had a moment of realization after the falling-out, Merula went very much into denial. Telling herself she never liked Tulip. That she was always just dead-weight, and Merula was stupid for having thought she would be useful. But that was all she had ever been. Just...potentially useful. That was all. She told herself this lie, all the way up to finding Tulip and Jacob’s Sibling together. That broke her. It definitely made her realize how much it hurt to have lost Tulip. To say that she was jealous would be putting it lightly. Merula did what she always does, which was to default to anger and the illusion of pride, but don’t think for one second that it didn’t kill her inside to see Tulip with Jacob’s Sibling. The hurting. The yearning. She was in love with Tulip, and she hated herself for it. I feel like that could be why she lost to Jacob’s Sibling so easily in that duel. She was distracted. When she warned MC that Tulip would betray them, and ran off...I feel like she ran off to go cry.

From that point on, Tulip and Merula were on opposite sides, but they still saw each other. I think that, however much Merula went to head off Jacob’s Sibling to the Vault of Fear, she also knew there was a chance that she would see Tulip again. Though she’d never admit it to herself, she was hoping that she would. When she and Ismelda were defeated - through the efforts, no less, of another former friend who had left her for MC - Merula was forced to retreat. And fume. And sob. If she had only known the form of Tulip’s Boggart, she might have understood. Speaking of that, I don’t think Tulip knew what her Boggart would be ahead of time, but when she saw it - she wasn’t surprised at all. Jacob’s Sibling was, however. I like to think that this was the moment Jacob’s Sibling deduced what was truly going on between their new friend and their old enemy. I also like to think that they became a low-key shipper on deck for Tulula. Assuming that they didn’t have romantic tension with either of these characters them-self, but this isn’t about MC. On an unrelated note, can you imagine Tulip’s reaction to post-Riddikulus Merula? I feel like it was either a sense of revulsion for it being such “wrong” version of her, or an awkward moment of “...Okay that’s actually an attractive look for her.” Or perhaps both. Feelings can be complicated after all.

Tulip clearly wanted Merula back. This is obvious from the multiple times she defended Merula when MC would trash her, and the multiple times she invited Merula to join their cause, both after that duel I mentioned earlier and during Year 4. Let’s talk about that incident. We don’t ever see the two of them interact. We don’t witness Tulip asking Merula, and she clearly did it behind MC’s back. At first, I feel like Merula told Tulip to go stuff it, until she mentioned that MC had no idea Tulip came to her. I think that would have made all the difference, and perked Merula’s interest. She was definitely insecure about Tulip and MC’s friendship, I can tell you that much. I think letting Merula back into Jacob’s Room was an olive branch extended by Tulip. A baby step toward reconciliation. Even if Merula only accepted it for her own needs and purposes, it was still a baby step. Sorry, but I just can’t get over how gleeful Merula was about getting to blindside MC with the surprise that she and Tulip were waiting for them in Jacob’s Room. I also feel like Tulip wanted to reconnect with Merula before she got too close to Madam Rakepick. Because as we can all remember well, Tulip, like Snape, saw through Rakepick immediately. Saw her for what she was. So do you think she was in any way comfortable with Merula talking to her? Of course not.

I’d also be remiss not to talk more in depth about the Frog Choir TLSQ. Goodness gracious me, that incident is one big Tulula ship-tease. Like I said before, Tulip clearly still cares about Merula and while Merula defaults to anger whenever she sees Tulip and MC...as I’ve said before, I think her anger is a mask for pain. And her pain is the result of missing Tulip and feeling jealous that she “chose” Jacob’s Sibling. I feel like Tulip and Merula had fond memories shared during the first two years where they would try to sing to each other. Trade laughs about how abysmal Tulip was at singing, and then when it was Merula’s turn...well, Tulip might have planned to feed her ego and say that she was skilled no matter what...but she didn’t need to sugarcoat anything. Merula was a beautiful singer and Tulip was captivated. So was Dennis. By the way, Merula definitely would pet-sit Dennis from time to time, perhaps over the winter holidays when Tulip was forced to come home. She might have feared that her parents would try to get rid of Dennis, and she trusted Merula like no one else, to take care of him. All of these background details are important because they’re the foundation for this quest. Tulip already knowing about Merula’s mother and that she’ll want to join the Frog Choir. Dennis liking Merula, and the whole idea of Merula and Dennis joining the Choir together. I really like the ending where MC gives up their spot to let this idea go through. Whether you’re a Merula fan, a Tulip x Merula shipper, or both...it’s just the happiest ending, and I think Jacob’s Sibling, as I said, could pick up on the vibes going on between these two.

Let’s talk about Rakepick. Always a fun subject, right? Alright but for real, it’s important because both Tulip and Merula had very keen opinions about her. During Year 5, Merula grew a lot closer to Jacob’s Sibling. Setting aside the ship-tease between those two characters, I believe she thoroughly enjoyed the idea of “stealing” MC from Tulip and letting her see how it felt to have someone she cares about choose someone else - bonus points because MC “chose” Merula. Of course, this is all because the two of them spent most of their time with Bill and Rakepick. I think Merula neglected all other relationships in her life, including Ismelda, during that year. I think Tulip felt more isolated than ever, and I think she felt like she was on the outside. She was lonely, and scared too. Because she never trusted Rakepick, and probably feared what Merula was learning from her. Having all of her worst impulses and instincts groomed. It only got worse during that big fight scene in the library, when she realized that Bill was extremely loyal to Rakepick as well. Bill, the unofficial “mom friend” of the group. But why did Tulip mistrust her so thoroughly, and what does it have to do with her ultimate betrayal? I’ve talked about this before, but Merula has a pattern in her life of starting to trust people and then being betrayed by them. What’s more...Tulip and Rakepick actually have a lot in common. They do. They’re both lawless adventurers who laugh in authority’s face and do whatever the hell they want. They’re crafty and resourceful and Rakepick is probably everything that Tulip tried to be during her friendship with Merula. She is the mindset that led to her stabbing Merula in the back. And sure enough, Tulip’s anxieties came true. Rakepick tortured the girl she loved, the girl she had betrayed...I’m telling you, Tulip fears becoming like Rakepick. She probably associates, even unconsciously, her own betrayal of Merula with what happened in the Portrait Vault. All of this to say that Tulip and Merula wouldn’t be in a comfortable place in Year 6. Tulip would be more desperate than ever for reconciliation, but Merula would shove her away as she is doing to everyone...and then she starts fawning over Jacob? Oh, catch Tulip slipping off to her dormitory to cry about that…

But that doesn’t mean reconciliation is impossible. They still have history together. The sanctuary still exists. Perhaps they’ll find it again. Year 7 is still in our future. And I want to believe that they’ll find their way back to each other.

#Tulip Karasu #Merula Snyde #Tulip Karasu x Merula Snyde #Tulula #HPHM Headcanons #HPHM Analysis #HPHM Jacob's Sibling #Patricia Rakepick #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

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lovenliterature · 4 years

Text

My thoughts on folklore

(all my personal stuff will be crossed out so u can skip if you want)

the 1

Giving me strong first love vibes

Highly vibe with thinking you’ve seen your ex when you haven’t, such a frequent experience

V much reminds me of Stan and like, its nice to imagine what could have been without disliking how things are

Like the line about how you should show if you want someone, prevents complacency and I like that, love is work and when you forget that inevitably it falls apart

It’s also kinda nice to realise how many things lead you to where you are - if one thing was different it would all change

Comfy reminiscence

Favourite lyric: in my defense, i have none/for digging up the grave another time

cardigan

feels quite a mature outlook on a relationship

V pragmatic

the first notes, straight into lyrics that just fill me with nostalgia

also like its not denying your feelings, you still feel like an old cardigan but you feel special AS that without changing

Peter losing Wendy is such a good line 10/10

Music vid gets points too tbh

Oof chasing shadows in the grocery line is high key relatable (literally being at uni with my ex anyone)

Stars around my scars now i’m bleeding feels like he’s distracting from the hurt he’s causing, he heals wounds while causing others god this is a mess

Favourite lyric: chase two girls, lose the one/when you are young, they assume you know nothing

the last great american dynasty

Probably one of the closest things to a bop on the album?

the font and background in the lyric vid are perfect

love the juxtaposition with the wedding was charming/if a little gauche and the parties were tasteful/if a little loud - it’s like she’s so close to being accepted but it’s always tinged with disapproval

Favourite lyric: either she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green or free of women with madness/their men and bad habits (the bridge is just stunning)

exile

god what do i even say about exile??

Made me fucking bawl my eyes out the first time I heard it

the two perspectives are just so relatable and heartbreaking

Choosing Bon Iver to collab with?? Perfect, the voices mesh so well and its just gorgeous

the opening verse is very relatable and its so well articulated and Justin Vernon’s voice just really hits home

the I gave so many signs is high key relatable and i really really feel that

Also just the concept of both of them being left with no home - 10/10, no breakup is seamless

Favourite lyric: like he’s just your understudy - it feels like you’re gonna jump right back in but you’re not, you’ve been recast

my tears ricochet

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/And you're the hero flying around, saving face - big oooooof, such a good way of showing how victims are expected to be the bigger person and be grateful idk

‘Cause when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave - This is so relatable, like whenever you cut ties/fall out with someone you love this is such a strong feeling, they’re usually the ones backing you up and now its them you’re fighting with and that’s hard to reconcile

the bridge!!! OMG!!

Favourite lyric: and I can go anywhere I want/Anywhere I want, just not home

mirrorball

Also one that’s close to a bop

And I’m still a believer and I don’t know why - I know its not about disillusionment with politics/humanity but for me it’s very much, I want to believe in the goodness of people but fuck it’s hard

Favourite lyric: you’re not like the regulars/the masquerade revellers

seven

My favourite song literally from the second I heard it

Like the whole vibe is so very me

and though I can’t recall your face/I still got love for you

Very much reminds me of Sam, I can’t remember that much about him but I can remember how close we were and how important he was to me and I wish nothing but good for him

Love you to the Moon and to Saturn - sounds like it was written for me at about 7, Saturn was my favourite planet and this was the kind of music I listened to at that age, just v nostalgic

Verse 2 is just my favourite part of the whole song, the melody, hiding in the closet, everything. That youthful naivety really makes me think of my friends when i was little. Even when i had problems with my own dad i desperately wanted to rationalise my friend’s dad’s anger to protect her and she practically did come live with us.

Favourite lyric: And we can be pirates/Then you won’t have to cry/Or hide in the closet

august

Wow this one has about a million and one different meanings for me

Summer fling, being used, reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, took place either side of August especially with the alcohol imagery

Whispers of are you sure? - first relationship, so good at making me comfortable, let me take the lead

Will you call when you’re back at school? - first relationship, long distance

I remember thinkin’ I had you, both situations, the non-relationship thinking it could be more and the relationship thinking I wasn’t gonna lose him

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets - first relationship, the first time we had sex and just the first times we were able to relax and be open with each other, really nice innocent memory

Favourite lyric: August sipped away like a bottle of wine

this is me trying

Back to December vibes

Also sad vibes, no fixing what you’ve fucked up but you’ve gotta try

I don’t wanna relate too hard because relating to it means thinking about things I can't fix

Favourite lyric: They told me all of my cages were mental/So I got wasted like all my potential

illicit affairs

Make sure nobody sees you leave/hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Feeling of hiding and being hidden, not sustainable

You feel like you aren’t worth loving, aren’t worth people knowing you love them

A drug that only worked/the first few hundred times

Hmmmm Patch who the fuck could this apply to????

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me and For you, I would ruin myself

Value yourself higher boy but yes about a certain someone

Favourite lyric: And clandestine meetings and stolen stares/they show their truth one single time/but they lie and they lie and they lie

invisible string

Green was the colour of the grass/Where I used to read at Centennial Park juxtaposed with introducing him to Centennial Park - GORGEOUS, and highkey relatable

A string that pulled me/out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar - it’s always nice to see how relationships that didn’t work out can set you up for a better future

Favourite lyric: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

mad woman

They strike to kill, and you know I will - yess bitch be angry

And there’s nothing like a mad woman - the notes and the delivery on woman give me CHILLS

The Pre-Chorus is gold, really relate to intensifying aspects of you that are criticised because yeah, fuck them

Favourite lyrics: No one likes a mad woman/what a shame she went mad/you made her like that

epiphany

Does this make me cry almost every time I hear it? Yes

The first verse being about war also makes me think about the mythologisation of healthcare workers as heroes, allowing governments to sacrifice them as martyrs

The melody of the whole song is gorgeous

Favourite lyric: Something med school did not cover/someone’s daughter, someone’s mother/holds your hand through plastic now

the medics are equipped to deal with the practicalities of treating people but not the emotions and not the feeling of not being able to help or even let someone die with their loved ones

betty

I am not sapphic but this gives me major sapphic vibes and I would die for betty

Give betty all the rights

Such a nostalgic vibe, fearless/fifteen/white horse/love story sound and i am HERE FOR IT

Also lots of red references and i love that

Really like figment of my worst intentions, turns a usually somewhat positive image upside down

In front of all your stupid friends? - really dude?? You cheated on her and now you’re insulting her friends??? What the fuck

Will it patch your broken wings? is a pretty line though

Favourite lyric: Would you tell me to go fuck myself?

peace

Natural assumption is that it’s about finding peace with a partner, i really like that it’s the opposite, committing to a relationship despite the chaos, despite the lack of peace

But I would die for you in secret - in the age of social media knowing someone has your back whether or not others are watching is so important (yes this sounds very pretentious i just mean like knowing that you’ve got that person no matter what is so important)

Favourite lyrics: Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other/Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

hoax

The vibe is just very calm and melancholy and i rate that

I am ash from your fire - this is such a good rep of toxic relationships, defined in relation to your partner, burnt by their bright flames, left behind

Favourite lyric: You knew it still hurts underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark

#folklore #taylor swift #ts8 #my writing #music #lyrics #my thoughts on music

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leavaloo · 4 years

Text

As Feral as Dragon’s Breath

This idea has been stuck in my head for a couple of days and I finally had the time to write it, what with people from out of town being here. Have fun with this little fantasy au piece I wrote~

Pairing: Dragon tamer!Raihan x OC (Rie)

Tags: Fantasy au, feisty OC, royalty, kinda fluff?, flirtatious raihan? idk man i just wrote

“And who is this man you’re bringing in?”

“A dragon tamer, m’lady. Known as the master of dragons. His name is Raihan.”

Rie strolled down the hallway to the meeting room, a hard hit to her step. If she could, she would curse her mother for this. Her older sisters already had such better suitors, and were already ten times more accomplished than her. Her huff hit the servant’s ears, who pursed her lips. She glanced down to the finely crafted sword that her mistress was starting to play with, and the angry look in her fierce blue eyes. Her long, black hair trailed behind her, and she looked nothing of the grace her beautiful purple dress was supposed to give her. She looked more like an angry beast than a royal princess.

She swung open the door to the meeting room, which was currently only sitting her mother and father, or as most called them, king and queen. They stood to greet her, and a pit of rage formed in her stomach that was barely contained. She almost punched her father with the kiss he pressed to her forehead. And yet she had to contain herself.

“My darling daughter,” he started, smiling down at her. “I know this is not the most ideal of circumstances for you, but it is a necessity.”

“And why is it such a necessity?” she snapped at him.

He sighed and wandered back to the finely trimmed oak table. “This is exactly why. Your sharp tongue won’t get you anywhere. No noble will fall for such a demeanor.”

“And as such you brought in a trainer of beasts as a suitor?”

Her mother shook her head. “Not so much as a suitor... simply for you to learn your place.”

This exchange devolved into senseless arguing at one another. The servant that had brought in Raihan looked fairly humiliated. He was looking sheepishly to the side, and all the while, Raihan gazed through the tiny slit in the door at the ferocious female that he was going to be stuck with.

“I-I’m sorry sir for this...” he managed to get out. “She’s very... expressive.”

“Expressive, huh?” Raihan said with a grin. He had dealt with hundreds of dragons, the scars from all of them easily seen on his dark brown skin. His electric eyes only sized up this challenge, and even had to admit, she would be hard to tame. He was supposed to teach her that even beasts could be tamed, but he had done this long enough with primal, fire breathing and sharp reptiles that the fire in her eyes would not be quelled so easily.

He had heard about the knife-tongued princess, and how feisty she was not only in battle but in general. Out of the three princesses, she had the most battle experience, the most spirit, and the least amount of men interested in wedding her, which turned out to be zero. Her stubbornness and headstrong nature turned away every one of them who tried. Raihan knew that he wasn’t going to be able to take this like a normal, flirtatious encounter.

----

It was still a couple of days before they were able to truly meet. Rie’s eyes locked on his as they sat across from each other in the meeting room. At this point Raihan had explained all that he did, showed off some of the gnarlier scars on his skin, and fully went over how dangerous this was.

“This isn’t a normal occupation, my king and queen. If she doesn’t feel up to the challenge, there might be a chance that she’ll die in the maw of a beast.”

This finally seemed to settle into her parent’s head what this man did, and how exactly dangerous this whole situation was. It was when his eyes locked with her own electric blue eyes that he knew that he wanted to figure out this challenge. Just how fierce was the fire in them? Could they be subdued at all? It was obvious to the both of them that her parents were rethinking their decisions.

“I’ll do it,” the princess piped up. The two royalty members glanced to her in surprise, and then in panic to each other.

“Now now, Rie, let’s rethink some of this over, shall we?” her mother cooed with a shiver in her tone.

“At least have you two spend a couple hours together before the final decision, yes?” her father suggested, sending a pointed look to his wife. They shared a silent conversation together, and then sent the two of them off together. They ended up in the garden, and Rie finally got a good look over this man.

Dark skin, bright blue eyes, black hair pulled back into spikes, and a little snaggletooth whenever he smiled. And also, he was really really tall. He himself was actually pretty alluring, not to mention very attractive. He didn’t really bother dressed up for this ceremony, what with a beat up set of leather trousers and a loose hanging tan shirt, the strings that would show a v neck on a woman definitely not pulled together.

“Enjoying the view, princess?” he mentioned when they stood in the garden.

“Simply wondering why you didn’t decide to dress up for this,” she bluffed, trying to not let a blush appear on her face. He was a charmer, she could tell, and she had no intention to give into his ploys.

Raihan just shrugged. “Why dress up when it gets across so much clearer that my job is dangerous?”

“You have a point, I suppose,” she nodded. “Though I don’t really understand why you would even try to convince my parents otherwise. There’s a lot of coin involved in this, I assume?”

“Coin isn’t worth your life, princess,” the dragon tamer harshly said, his gaze becoming stern. “Some of my closest friends have turned into a bloody mesh between thousands of teeth. If your life were to be taken by one of my beasts, then so would mine. Simple as that. I’d be hung on the gallows before even a trail could be held.”

Raihan was surprised when the princess smiled. He figured it might have been the first time in a while that she had allowed herself to do that. “I see,” she said, staring out into the sky in thought. “And yet, even then, would you still let me go with you?”

“Who am I to defy an order?”

“It’s not an order. At least, not from me.”

Raihan raised an eyebrow at the princess. She was... peculiar, to say the least.

“May I ask why you are interested in going so suddenly, princess? Based on the fight you had a couple of days ago, this wasn’t your... preferred path to take.”

“Ah, so you heard all that, did you?”

“Aye, I did.”

Rie sent a look back to him, one that not only sent shivers down his spine, but reminded him of the snarling maw of a blue dragon. “Anything my parents want for me, I will deny them the satisfaction of getting it so easily. Besides. You’ve caught my interest. That is all.”

Raihan sent a similar look back to her, his smile borderline wolfish. Rie understood in that moment that, as a tamer of some of the most feral beings on the planet, he probably had a feral side to him as well. He leaned down to her height face a couple of inches from her face. Normally, people would find this side of him utterly terrifying. The sword on his side had seen many a bloody battle, and yet, this woman didn’t flinch, nor back down. Instead, she puffed out her chest with a determined huff.

“Are you sure you’re up to the challenge, my dear?” he snarled at her, making her fully aware of his intimidating stature.

“Only if you can keep up,” she growled back at her. He pulled back and laughed, beaming down at her.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, shall we get ready to go? I’ll inform your parents, and do my best to convince them that I’ll keep you safe. Though, I think you know damn well right now that I will be lying out of my arse for this.”

Rie chuckled and winked at the dragon tamer, sending another chill down his spine. “Aye, and I won’t tell a single soul.” She curtsied at him, though it was obviously lacking the fluidity and grace as some other noblewomen he had seen. “I shall meet you out front then?”

He sent a wink of his own back, enjoying the slight flush in her cheeks at the action. “Aye. I shall.”

As they went about their separate ways, and Raihan let the king and queen know that she will be in his care, he wondered quite how this would go. She was... fascinating, to say the least. Beautiful, dangerous and sharp. Similar to a lot of the dragons he had encountered. He rubbed a specifically gnarly would across his stomach, which didn’t help the nervous feeling rising in his gut. He didn’t know what he had gotten himself into, but it sure was going to be an adventure. That much was for certain.

#kai writes #raihan #raihan pokemon #gym leader raihan #raihan x oc #fantasy au #pokemon fantasy au #dragon tamer raihan #dragons #royalty oc #short story #pokemon #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh writing #pokemon swsh imagines #raihan the dragon man

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eternaleve · 4 years

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I’ve spent the course of COVID lockdown cycling through hyperfixations while also trying to engage in some much needed therapy (lolsob), and I’ve been essentially encouraging myself to try and do more things I can enjoy without feeling shame. Anyway, that’s a short way of saying I decided to blog about all the music videos of Depeche Mode for reasons of science.

The science is that my basic premise is that most of the videos are pretty bad in ways that I find to be pretty strange. Full disclosure is that I spent my teen years being a huge Cure fan and there’s an overlap there? Of songs with very niche high-concept ideas that don’t necessarily map onto a model of popular music but found mainstream success in the rise of new wave music in the wake of the collapse of first wave punk and amplified by the creation of music videos and music video TV. And I owned all the Cure music videos and played them on my iPod Nano because I was a very strange child. But to get back to my central thesis, many of The Cure’s videos are very stylised and fun and memorable in ways that are good. And yet, despite existing in the same sphere and having an overlap of fans, the music videos for Depeche Mode mostly stay bad until the end of the eighties, a fact I will prove by watching them all.

Can you tell that I am bored because i have lost my job and my mental health is making me fixate on strange shit currently because that is absolutely the case right now

Speak & Spell

Dreaming of Me (Feb 1981)

The single art is really lovely - the red/yellow contrast is very striking against the white, and I really love the design. Hey remember when people used to go out and buy singles and you would appreciate them and the work that went into them? I don’t think I’ve bought a physical single since I was about sixteen. I used to buy them from the Woolworths music department because it was cheap and all my friends worked there, so they had a pretty lenient attitude about what exactly constituted paying for things. Woolworths policy of only hiring teenagers is probably what destroyed their business.

Anyway, Dreaming of Me did not chart super well, getting to number 57 and having no official music video - or actually getting onto the album. It wasn’t included on Speak & Spell in the UK until the 2006 re-release. So, there was no music video for me to look at…

Apart from this video I found from local TV in 1981 to promote the song. It’s a maybe-music video. Because music videos had only been around for about six years and MTV didn’t exist until later in the same year, my guess is that Mute Records were pretty cautious about putting money into a medium that might cost more than they would get in publicity. That’s only a guess. I don’t have a crystal ball for forty years ago.

Anyway, here are some children recording music.

If i was 19 and someone offered me a recording contract I would have taken it without thinking (like i took on all those student loans without thinking through any consequences wompwomp) but now I am nearly thirty I watch this and think, ‘These children shouldn’t be outside unaccompanied’. The passage of time has made a fool of me.

They go bowling and play Space Invaders which, hey, still sounds like a great night out to me, but I’m guessing that because this is very clearly aimed at teenagers the TV producers didn’t want to encourage teen drinking by showing them performing a gig at a club night.

I call it high fashion. The all-grey really sells it.

This reminds me so much of a advice column in teen magazines - when they’d have problems set out in a little faux-comic strip of still photos? ‘My best friend stole and read my diary’ ‘My crush found out about how I feel and now he’s going out with my best friend’, that sort of thing. That is also a classic carpet pattern. I think my grandma’s living room had that carpet.

The video is very naive! It’s the sort of thing we would all see now on Youtube from bands just starting out and it is wild to me that this went out on TV. It’s very un-glossy and normal, the stuff that bands put out on YouTube now because of DIYness.

New Life (June 1981)

This is also a really great piece of single art. It’s very bold and striking - it would definitely be the standout record in a sea of other 7’’ released the same week. It also doesn’t particularly match the tone of the single but eh, it looks pretty cool. New Life did much better than Dreaming of Me and got up to number 11 in the UK singles chart. Still no official music video, but the charting meant that the band got onto Top of The Pops! ToTP was cancelled when I was a wee baby teen, because the BBC decided to stop caring about yoof viewership and promoting music was circling the drain everywhere as streaming hit, but it was the place to promote music so was definitely a sign that You Had Made It.

So, last video was silly and made by children, but now they’re wearing see-through mesh shirts, leather trousers, and leather hats with a design that I am a little bit dubious about. I grew up on the oi/punk scene and let me tell you about how many first wave punks wear iconography of bad regimes for faux edginess reasons because I met a LOT of them in my time.

Oh boy do i have thoughts about that hat. It also looks like a Leather Daddy hat which, well, let’s leave that thought to one side. Most ToTP performances were lipsynced. Playing things live would sound weird in the studio, be picked up strangely by the audio equipment and the cameras, so 99% of performances were mimed to the single. Now, some acts would deliberately play up to the pretence and refuse to act like they were doing anything that corresponded to the song - The Jam, The Communards, and The Cure are literally the first examples that come to mind who would just… not do anything close to pretending it was real.

This is not that. It is very earnest and awkward and serious, which sort of makes it very sweet.

Just Can’t Get Enough (September 1981)

Right, that is shibari, isn’t it? I’m not blind, am I? It’s a very striking image that 99.9% of people would not recognise other than being a striking black and white image.

I don’t think I can overstate how… innocent, in a way, this point of time was? As in the general level of knowledge about non-conventional stuff in the wider public at large. As in my mother, an almost teen at this point, saw George Michael walking with his boyfriend in central London and had no idea he was gay until he came out. It’s actually the widest cultural gulf I can think of between her teen years and my teen years because I was very aware of queer people from a young age.

Anyway, moving on, I feel like it bears repeating that this song fucking slaps. It’s the last single to be written by Vince Clarke and the last single until 2006 to be written by someone other than Martin Gore. This is one of those songs that just works on every level. Can you imagine coming up with this for the first album of your band? That blows my mind. It’s so overpoweringly good that it was probably for the best that it was saved for last - coming out the gate with a guaranteed fucking banger was been the nail in the coffin for a lot of other eighties synth/electronica bands. They scored a huge hit and then nothing after that managed to be as good or meet the hype. Depeche Mode had built up a far bit of radio play and interest before dropping this which turned out to be very good in the long run!

This got to number 8 on the UK charts and the first to get a music video! It is the only one with Vince Clarke. Full disclosure in that I had this song on my iPod through downloading the video to my computer (that’s how we got songs without using stuff that would give us viruses because i got a ton using bearshare for rare cure demos) and I remember watching the video, all of sixteen years old, and thinking, ‘Man, all these people look so grown up, compared to me, I can’t wait to be an adult!’.

Twelve years have changed my view, somewhat.

Look at this little baby man. Were you in one of my A Level classes - as in, ones that I have taught, not ones that I have been in.

Vince Clarke, however, has had a significant glow up in the six months and now looks like he is the bouncer in a leather bar. This is the One Adult in the room.

Ahh, I see it’s Open Mic Night at the local leather bar. You know what I was saying about how teens in the eighties tended to be significantly more naive about what we might call certain signifiers? Because what this outfit says to me, a queer woman in 2020, is susbstanitally different than to my mum and her friends watching this when it first came out. She would read this as ‘This is totally rebellious and cool!’ while I go ‘Someone just joined the university kink club and spent all their bursary’.

I don’t remember the member of Blazin’ Squad that wore a slave harness. (Now, there’s a reference that shows my age. A Blazin’ Squad reference in the year of Our Lord 2020. Hoooo boy.)

I read somewhere (that I can’t find now because, of course I can’t) that these are the band’s girlfriends and I always remembered that because it made me think, lol, same. One of my closest friends is the Head of London, so she’s in every band in London and if she’s not in yours yet give her time, and my partner was in a locally successful metal/hardcore band for about a decade and being connected with any sort of band means you will be helping out hugely behind the scene constantly. I have held lights, moved speakers, picked up instruments, been in music videos, and have bought tearaway trousers and glowsticks for gigs. You get called in to help all the time which is a lot of fun, so that fact always just stuck with me. It also makes sense financially because then you don’t have to hire any professional backing dancers, you can rely on people who will happily do it for free (while looking pretty rad while doing it!).

Anyway, the band look like those generic raiders that you run into when randomly walking across the map in a Fallout game.

I love awkward choreography in music videos. It feeds me.

Filming a night out provides A) Great footage and B) Can be done for limited overheads, leaving more money to be put into promotion.

I always like seeing this sort of footage in music videos. I tend to see a lot of it, given the DIY punk scene, and it always charms me. I am easy to please. And all those women have the most amazing eye makeup that makes me super jealous because it all looks so good.

That hat is on point. This looks like a still image for some sort of cyberpunk big band style swing revival that, sadly, lives only in my dreams.

It took me so goddamn long to screenshot this shot probably because i was also blasting dream nails whoops

Anyway those are my reactions to Speak & Spell’s one solitary music video with some other things thrown in and this took me way too long. I make myself laugh though, that’s the main thing. I will do A Broken Frame… at some point. I think I have a bunch of vinyl for A Broken Frame? My mum actually bought all the singles for that album and I stole most of her collection years ago. I will have to search and see what I can find.

#depeche mode #speak & spell #i make myself laugh #and that's the main thing

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avatoh · 5 years

Link

Lassiter gets dragged to a Halloween party by Juliet which Shawn also happens to be attending. He and Shawn are both wearing masks and don’t recognize each other.

Ao3 or below

“Come on, Carlton. Elizabeth canceled on me last minute and I am not going to this party alone!”

Lassiter sighed begrudgingly. He knew that O’Hara had been waiting all week to go to this stupid Halloween party of hers, but she had made plans with one of her friends to go with her not with him. And now this friend of hers had the absolute audacity to cancel on her like O’Hara didn’t matter or anything

“Oh, please, please, please, come with me. I totally had your back two weeks ago at the Bagel Shop shootout. Come on, I saved your life Carlton, for God’s sake!”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Her “saving” his life was a little bit more exaggerated than the truth of it. But nonetheless, she did have his back. She was a good partner.

“Please! I’ll never ask you anything like this again.”

“No. I already told you, no, O’Hara. I have no idea why your “friend” decided to cancel, but I’m not your-”

“-Her mother’s in the hospital,” O’Hara cut him off. “Her mother is in the hospital and there’s a chance that she might not make it, that’s why she had to cancel.”

“Now you’re just trying to make me feel bad-”

“I’m not. Oh no, I’d never do that, I promise. It’s just there is a lot going on in my personal life, and I really, really don’t want to go to this alone. There’s like this tiny chance an ex of mine might be there and I just don’t wanna-”

“How long is it going to be?”

“If you go with me, we won’t be there longer than three hours, I swear!”

“Three hours?”

“Promise.”

That was how Lassiter found himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror, contemplating putting on some costume makeup for a make-shift costume. It was a costume party, O’Hara had explained after he had agreed to go and he absolutely had to wear something or he wouldn’t be admitted into the house. He probably wouldn’t have agreed to it if he knew it ahead of time.

In the middle of writing the word ‘Costume’ on a piece of paper and pining it to his shirt, O’Hara rang his doorbell.

“Figured,” she said, glancing at him once over. “Here. I brought you something simple you can wear .” She handed him a bag which he determined to be some sort of Frankenstein mask and gloves to conceal his hands. A truly low-effort costume. “You can put it on on the way over and I really I do appreciate you coming with me to this. And who knows? Maybe you’ll have some fun too.”

“Doubt it.”

“Come on then, let’s get going.”

The party was in a nicer part of town at some house. All Lassiter could tell about the owner of this house was that they most likely was single and had a lot of money. The place was crowded and it looked like it was a party out of the Great Gatsby. People were coming in and out of the house and he could already hear the music from inside the car as they drove past in search for parking In the end, they had to park rather far away and the music over where they were was finally soft enough for Lassiter to hear his own thoughts again, and more importantly, comment to O’Hara. “Really? A house party. You’re not in College anymore, are you?”

O’Hara rolled her eyes. “Just put on the mask and follow me, please.”

He complied. The mask was rubbery but had good ventilation, as far as masks went, and he could somewhat still see well through the painted mesh that covered his eyes. His voice did sound somewhat faint which was then made worse by the loud music as soon as they entered.

“I’ll get us some drinks, if you wanna start mingling.”

Lassiter scoffed and found himself leaning against one of the walls.

Halfway through the party and a few drinks in Lassiter still was in the same place he was when he first came in, which was near the wall near the main room. This party wasn’t too fun, at least for him, and he didn’t know anyone besides O’Hara who was preoccupied with dancing with her mutual companions.

A woman in a fantasy-style costume at one point did come up to him and asked him a question, if he wanted to get out on the floor with her. “I don’t dance,” he said, causing her to walk away with a tepid shrug without much care.

Minutes later a man in a funny full-body red superhero costume and funny voice came over to him. “Really, you don’t dance?” The stranger said. “We’re at a party. Oh, come on. I’ve been watching you here and there all evening and you’ve been all by yourself here the whole time.“

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Here and there,” The stranger clarified with a bit of a slur. Lassiter was sober enough to detect something familiar in the man’s voice, but a few drinks in as well as his own mask and the fabric that that was over the stranger’s mouth for his mask made it quite difficult to recognize it. “And saying no to such an attractive lady like that.” The man continued as he whistled, looking out into the crowd. “Or perhaps you don’t swing that way, Mr. Broad shoulders?”

Lassiter groaned. “That’s none of your business.”

“Sounds like it could be. Come on, this is part of the fun. Two strangers, both wearing masks. Nobody knows who we are. A good chance to blow off some steam. Well, if you’re looking for fun, that is. You can even dance with me if you’d like, Mr. Stein. Do more too.”

“Nope. Not a chance,” Lassiter said. His head was kind of blurry and he was trying to process what was just being said to him

“You can’t blame me for trying,” the masked superhero said as he walked away, his head hanging a little low.

Lassiter needed one more drink as he thought about what had just happened

Shawn Spencer had a hot date tonight at a Halloween party and she was prooobably somewhere in this crowd of people. It had started out as a pleasant night for him but it had been about 45 minutes since he’d seen her and honestly, he thought he saw her making out and leaving with this guy at one point. But the night was young and many people out in the crowd that looked to be fair game.

There was a ballerina, a banana,a baseball character, a cowboy, cowgirl, and a man in the corner with a mask that had the body build of a certain Detective at the Santa Barbara Police station that seemed to be by themselves.

But the woman in the banana costume was closest to him and he had a funny pickup line that he wanted to try on her.

After an obvious rejection, Shawn tried dancing with a few people and had fun for awhile, but on his way to the bar for a drink he found the Frankenstein mask man in the corner and said a few bold and suggestive things to him. And got rejected by another person that night..

In the middle of a particularly slutty song, while Shawn was twerking and had a few different people were grinding against him, the Frankenstein man appeared in front of him on the dance floor.

“Whoah, buddy, you scared me there!”

The man stood stationary on the dance floor and spoke to him, though it was rather difficult to hear him clearly through his mask. “I’ve thought about what you said,” he started.

“What part?” Shawn said, his cheeks reddening fast.

“The dancing,” he said quickly.

“Oh. I thought you said that you didn’t dance.”

“Don’t know how and it looks like you’re having some…” he paused, “fun. And I’m a little drunk,” he quickly admitted. “And you were right. Nobody knows who I am and you kinda remind me of someone I know.”

“Wade Wilson?” Shawn asked.

“…No,” Frankenstein said, the joke going over his head.

Shawn laughed as he called the other man over with his hand.

“Alright, alright, what do I do now?”

“Let the music take you,” Shawn said as he began moving his body to the song. Frankenstein just looked at him in awe. “Well, come on.”

The other man started to move his lanky but firm looking body kind of stiffly and awkwardly.

“Well…” Shawn said. “At least you’re in character,” he said. “You look like you’re half dead.”

“I normally don’t do this you know!” the stranger shouted, his voice becoming a bit more clear.

“Hey, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Hey, come over here. Mirror me. Ok. that’s better now. Look at you!”

He was using his body more, seductively moving it. Shawn was impressed. The two of them got closer. He flinched a little bit when they brushed up against one another. “Sorry”

“It’s okay. You having fun now?”

“A little.”

“Cool. I am too”

Notes:

*May write a hornier part two if anyone is interested in more ✌️

#shassie #psych usa #carlton Lassiter #one shot #my fic #just a small little realy stupid fic #shassie requests OPEN

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a-cai-jpg · 4 years

Text

I feel like this is to assure myself and no one else.

It has recently come to my attention that real people actually read this blog.

That sounds a little stupid, given that I religiously advertise it on both Snapchat and Instagram, but there was a part of me that assumed it would fly over the heads of most (see: all) people. And it's inherently contradictory, but I did not think a Real Person would take time out of their lives to read my utterly irrelevant musings.

I am terribly grateful to my friends and then some for deeming me important enough to click into this site. I am thankful for their validation when they don't just do it silently, lurking amidst the sans serif. One quoted my own words back at me in ALL CAPS, another sent me a video zooming in on my disgruntled face on the sidebar, and more mention it casually in passing conversation, jolting me into the reality that yes, this is A Thing.

But as I laid in bed and typed up the post two days ago, I'm suddenly reminded of why I rarely made my writing public.

I sound like an ungrateful little shit, and I'm truly happy whenever someone mentions The Thing (i just don't like the word blog), and I want to share The Thing with the world because it's a little scary thinking about how all your time and effort and words and emotion could be lost somewhere in the void, like an unread letter that's wandered off the post-trail, but.

Writing digs into the most vulnerable flesh of your heart and mind. I recently saw a quote, "We are writers, my love. We don't cry, We bleed on paper." And there are variations of this quote from others: "I don't think all writers are sad. I think it's the other way around: all sad people write;" "I didn't write it down to build a poem. I wrote it down because that is what I do with the things that unravel me. I drag them across a page."

I don't mean for this to take a maudlin turn, but writing is a salve for aches in the soul. I'm by no means a writer, but I like to think I write (s/o to my soulmate, jackson wang, who said, "i'm not a rapper...i just rap). And sometimes, sharing what I've "dragged across the page" is turning my skin inside out.

I'm definitely more comfortable with sharing my vulnerability through words on a sheet of paper (or words on a WordPad document) than through words spoken to another Real Person.

In my junior year of high school, I sat in a hotel room in Sacramento with words stuck behind my clenched teeth. It was the most peculiar feeling, like if I loosened my jaw, I would vomit the words from my chest and they would tumble off the bedsheets and onto the floor, staining the hotel carpet. But the tension never snapped, and I scrawled them onto a torn sheet of paper instead.

Even now, I express the deepest parts of my emotions through letters. I think a large part of it is because I don't want to see the emotions unfold on someone's face. It's not that I don't want to see them, but I don't think I--this emotionally constipated individual--am capable of responding to them in a way that's not, "Uh. Yeah. Okay. Lol bye." And I feel like that's just not appropriate or sufficient in some circumstances. Better to just avoid the potentially awkward situation.

(yes this is not the most mature way to deal with emotions but spare me the lecture.)

And so, when I am writing, and not saying words at someone's face, I pull out the most intimate intricacies of my heart and twist them into phrases and sentences. And I like to do it without a filter.

But when I was writing these past few days, I was conscious of an audience. I began crafting sentences through the lens of what would this specific person think of this and oh my god what if this person reads this and fuck it ok just kidding we can't just fuck it sos. It was a dangerous balance between editing and re-editing and declaring, "Fuck the world, I write for me, and I'm going to write recklessly and with abandon."

This the main crux of the problem: there is me, the person that you know and talk to and maybe have grown up with, and then there is me, the person who spits words out onto The Thing. And sometimes the two me's mesh perfectly like a pattern overlaid on another to produce an image, and sometimes they don't.

It's kind of like when you go clubbing with a childhood friend for the first time, and you've only known them as the youth group-going, favorite child of all Asian parents, and then y'all are in the club and damn okay they just took seven shots in a row.

(I'm not speaking from personal experience.)

There is a moment of reckoning when you try to reconcile two facets of a person.

(Or maybe this is a me problem, but bear with me here.)

A few months ago, I took a trip with two of my closest friends to San Diego, to visit the college town where one of them spent four incredibly formative years. It was fun and beautiful and very, very disorienting, because in my egocentric point of view, I had forgotten that we lived these four years separately. Suddenly, he was introducing to me a different life, a different history that I wasn't part of, and I couldn't help but feel like I was sitting in the passenger seat of a stranger's car, listening to a crude imitation of a familiar playlist.

The feeling began somewhere on the 5 freeway, when he navigated the unfamiliar lanes with a practiced ease, and swelled as the sun set and he told stories about Mount Soledad and him and his friends.

And it was weird, because I felt like an intruder, even though I had been invited into his memories, and the unease took shape as silence and stilted words until he asked, "Are you okay? You seem weird." And the feeling was spilling onto the back of my hands as I gripped the skirt of my dress, but I couldn't beat it into words, so I unclenched my fists and fastened my seatbelt and choked out a, "Nah, I'm just tired."

I think I'm still in the process of working through this reckoning. It doesn't happen for all of my friends, and it's not always so discomforting. Sometimes, I scroll through Instagram pages with a sort of curious hunger to fill the years I’ve missed, and other times, I take the new information, file it as: Yeah okay, I could've predicted that. But then, there are the times where I can only search someone's face in silence, lump in my throat as I rewind our histories and try to find where one of them snagged and became out of sync.

The different facets of the self should, all in all, unveil the most authentic self. The more you get to know a person, the more you really know a person. I imagine it like you're building a three-dimensional sculpture, and with each new piece of information, you add another bit of plaster to it. Yet, I sometimes lose sight of what I'm trying to build, and when I see the blueprint again, I realize I've veered wildly off course. It's scary, every time I run into a moment like this, because it's like the person I knew, the friend I've had for a decade, was actually just someone I created in my mind, a person who overlapped at the edges with the Real Person, but ultimately, were not the same. And when the illusion disappears, I'm left with a stranger.

I'm exaggerating, but.

I'm a little scared this is what you will feel as you read this. I'm scared there will be no separation between the writer and the writing, and although writing reveals the deepest, most intimate parts of a person, is it really the authentic self? It's only a slice, a slice I had cut with carefully chosen words.

So I want to assure you, if you are someone like me who thinks they view the world on a wide-angle lens but really, only through a slit, and you are someone like me who reels when the cover is yanked away and you're left staggering through the new vista, that every sentence is a part of me, but who you know and who you talk to and who you message is a larger piece of me. And maybe we will never get to know each other fully, because that kind of privilege is saved for but a few, that doesn't make either of us any less authentic.

I sometimes wonder what character development looks like in the real world. When I was a sophomore in high school, I cringed so hard when my favorite English teacher tried to use my essay as an example in class that he almost immediately pulled it out from underneath the Elmo projector and used someone else's. In freshman year of college, I wanted to join a creative writing club, but after realizing that I wouldn't be able to submit my work for peer-editing anonymously, I banished that notion. Yet, for some reason, in my senior year, I decided I wanted to take a fiction writing course. On the day of my first workshop, my hands shook so much that I had to sit on them to stop trembling.

In the beginning of the class, I, myself, had a very difficult time separating the writing from the writer. I think especially in an intro class, students use facets of their own life to create fiction. I think even advanced writers do the same, because ultimately everything you write is you. And I did my fair share of speculation--why did she write about a sibling rivalry does she have a sister, hey did this guy study abroad in hong kong with you because he wrote about that, and huh i wonder if she grew up in florida this is beautiful.

It's the kind of speculation we do with the Greats. Did Shakespeare write Hamlet for his son, Hamnet? Who was Sonnet 18 written for? Was Shakespeare gay? Because see, in this one bit, he wrote.....

(i was a very bored AP lit student ok)

It's the same kind of speculation my friend did when she finished listening to a new song by Crush and said, "Oh, he must be dating." Or the speculation all the YouTube comments had when Jon Cozart and Dodie Clark released duo songs titled "Tourist: A Love Song from Paris" and "a non love song from nashville." It's the kind of speculation you do when you are given a slice of someone's soul, and suddenly, you want to understand the whole thing.

But that kind of scrutiny is uncomfortable. We're okay with doing it to Shakespeare, because the dude's dead. We're okay with doing it to big name artists because hello, Crush is not going to hear my friend talking about him. We're less okay with doing it in the public realm of YouTube comments because they are read by the content creators who explicitly said, "pls don't speculate." We are even less okay with doing it to our peers, and we are not okay with other people doing it to us. Okay, maybe I should just speak for myself.

My trajectory in that fiction writing class was backward. My first story was about a white male living in New Jersey. My last story was about a Chinese American woman who used to live in the suburbs of Los Angeles.

It wasn't planned.

It's as if my subconsciousness drew up barriers the minute I stepped into that classroom, and wrote a story as far removed from who I am as possible.

Because really, who is going to think that the gas jockey with a hunger for divine power is me?

(sike.)

But I guess character development is becoming okay with vulnerability and with potential speculation, and as I wrote, I began writing closer and closer to the heart, pulling the words from the east coast to the west.

When the last workshop rolled around, I was calm, sitting at one of those awful, plasticky chairs with tiny, useless desks attached to one arm. I was neither defensive nor uncomfortable, like I thought I would be, just at peace and humbled as I listened to my classmates discuss the craft of my writing.

And I think that's the ultimate lesson: once you write something, or create something, and release out into the wild, it no longer belongs to you. It's an argument I used to make in my art history class, but it's an argument that John Green often makes when his readers ask him about the meaning behind his books.

I don't quite mean it like he does, when he says, "Books belong to their readers." I think that before the writing is consumed by the reader, it is its own entity, existing independently of both writers and readers. And when it is eventually taken up by the reader, the writer shouldn't feel a sense of possessiveness or vulnerability or fear about the content.

And shit, that really fucks up my other thing about trees falling in forests but anyways.

There are a load of other things I have to consider when suddenly, the dumb spools of thoughts in my brain become free content for the Internet. Like, privacy rights? Am I allowed to talk about this one thing my unnamed friend said, but wait, you can definitely tell who it is, oh fuuuuuu-. At what point is it oversharing? Do I get to decide the line between okay and TMI, or does me declaring that I am writing this for myself mean there is no line?

But, in the end, I just want to say thank you.

I’m really used to, as I’m sure many people are, presenting just one facet of my whole self to people. Every individual has a number of different roles, and each role comes with its own set of rules and norms. The sociological part of me says that this discomfort I’m feeling has a lot to do with the breaking down of norms. There is a certain playbook people go by when they lower their barriers, but this circumvents that.

And honestly, maybe I’m just thinking too much into it and all of this is for naught, but it was cathartic writing this all out, even if I had to take two very lengthy breaks to get my thoughts in order.

(just kidding, one of them was to watch Kingdom season 1).

There are so many things I am grateful for, and I fear that in the past week, I have been battling bad vibes and have forgotten how incredibly privileged I am.

So, here is List 16 of The 52 List Project (that my friend made me start legit in 2016 and I'm still on list 17)

List 16: List your Essentials 1. Family & Friends ✔ 2. Affirmation & Love ✔ 3. Achievement ✔ 4. Happiness ✔ 5. Hope & Dreams ✔ 6. Phone ✔ 7. ID/Card holder ✔ 8. Plush blankets ✔ 9. Stuffed animals ✔ (so many!) 10. Inspiration from a boy on skates ✔ (see: hope & legacy) 11. Good music ✔ (i gotchu fam, here's ur r&b fix) 12. Good books ✔ (go check out a book) 13. Good conversations ✔ 14. Thoughts ✔ 15. Creativity ✔ 16. Music ✔ 17. Possibilities ✔

#beep boop beep boop beep boop beep boop skrrt skrrt

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

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Hey, darling! May I please get a ship (Queen and Bo Rhap)? At first people may consider me as shy and distant but that immediately changes when I'm comfortable with you. Then I'm really chatty, sarcastic and kind and would love to give advice if needed. I'd like to think I'm smart. I hate talking about politics and religion. I'm a chubby hetero girl who has long hair and black (like my soul lol) eyes. Sometimes I don't pay attention at my surroundings, I'm just daydreaming a lot. Perfectionist.

god i’ve tried starting this like 100 times but recovering from spring break is killing me

SORRY FOR THE SLOW TURNOVER yall i’m drowning in projects so they’ll come when they come tbh

anyways!!! ships below the cut

For Queen, I ship you with John Deacon! (ignore roger in the gif even tho he cute as hell)

I think both Roger and Brian are far too opinionated and politically-driven to mesh well with you. However, John doesn’t concern himself with those things nearly as much. He keeps to himself, and he doesn’t flaunt his opinions, and that works really well for you two. Religion may be a place where you disagree a bit, but he doesn’t force his religion on you at all.

Plus, he loves the similarities between the two of you. The initial awkwardness made you both realize that you were one and the same, so you quickly attached to each other upon realizing that your proclivity towards quietness/shyness is just a sort of temporary wall that you only have up for strangers.

And since you’re a chatty girl, I think you met Deacon through Freddie. You and Freddie were friends through school and he invited you to one of his gigs because he swore he’d found your match made in heaven.

Although you didn’t particularly like his blind date setups, he seemed very insistent on this one, so you begrudgingly agreed to put on your best dress and come out to see them play.

“You’re gonna love him. He’s a little sweetheart, really!” Freddie gushed as he wrapped his arm up in yours, pulling you through the crowded bar towards the door that led back to the makeshift dressing rooms. It was the earlier Queen years, where they were still playing pubs and colleges, and you’d apparently happened to show up on the night where they played the smallest pub they could have found. As a result, their backstage area was... well, a bit cramped.

“Freddie, what if he doesn’t like me?” you asked nervously, tugging him to a stop just outside where the other three were.

“Like who?” Roger asked, popping his head through the curtain before looking directly at you and smiling. You’d already met a few times at Freddie’s (Deacon never really went there much), and he’d grown to like teasing you about your aversion for politics. “Well, look who it is. You hear about Heath and Whitelaw and the IRA?”

“Roger, if you start talking politics right now, I’ll keel over and die before the show even starts. Would you like that?” Freddie groaned, pushing Roger back into the curtain before turning to you and taking your face in his hands. “And he’ll love you. I promise.”

“Love who?” you heard from inside the curtain, the voice sounding soft and prim and unmistakably like Brian. “Roger, paws off my beer, thank you. Don’t think for a second that I won’t wallop you.” Yep. That was Brian.

Before you had time to make a dash for the door, Freddie tugged you through the curtain, where you nearly ran into Roger as he backed away from an irritated Brian. Between the two of them was a young-looking man, maybe 20ish, with beautiful brown hair that cascaded down over his shoulders and silvery-green eyes that nearly made your eyes go like those cartoons where they turn into hearts and pop right out of your skull.

As beautiful as he was, it was only made even better when he gave you a painfully shy smile that had just the slightest gap in the front. He put his hands down, having been in the midst of breaking the two morons up. “Sorry,” he managed to say quietly, addressing you and Freddie, but mainly you. “Didn’t want them having a row before we played.”

“That’s alright,” you replied gently, returning the smile and letting go of Freddie’s arm. “I know how they can be. Especially Roger.”

“Well, hello, love,” Brian greeted cheerily, blissfully unaware of John and you lowkey making googly eyes at each other., and he came in to give you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, which you reciprocated. “Haven’t seen you in ages. Has Freddie dragged you down to one of our shows, finally?”

“Well, he said I have someone to meet,” you replied unsurely, smiling a bit nervously before glancing over at Deacon, who was just to Brian’s left and still watching you quietly. “I’m assuming this is him?”

Your question was confirmed by a nod from Freddie, who went through a surprisingly only moderately painful introduction for the two of you. There was some small talk, but you didn’t get the chance to feel a conversation out before it was time for them to play.

However, John pulled on his big boy pants after the show and bought you a drink, then managed to find a space at the bar where the boys couldn’t bother you, and from there, you bonded incredibly fast.

Nothing like sharing a general distaste for the drummer’s political hogwash.

Anyways, you started to hang around Deacon’s more often, Freddie complaining that he meant to bring Deacon around his place more often by acquainting the two of you. He’d managed to achieve the opposite - more often than not, you weren’t at Freddie’s now.

You were with John instead, just spending time with him and only him. He was a lot of fun to talk to, particularly because his sarcasm matched yours really well, and he was able to have deep conversations with you without challenging your anti-political/religious stances.

One time in particular, you were both sitting on the bus late one night on your way back from Freddie’s, elbows bumping in the most unsatisfactory of ways - but it was okay, because the two of you were laughing at Roger’s latest conquest he’d brought that night. He had forgotten her name, which John hadn’t let him hear the last of all night.

“All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t be heartbroken if Roger conveniently forgot my name,” you giggled softly, shaking your head. “He’s got more notches on that bedpost than I’ve got hairs on my head.”

“A bit harsh, but you’re not wrong,” John laughed along, looking ahead of him and smiling for a moment before intentionally bumping you with his elbow and turning to you again. “Promise I’d never forget your name. As long as you don’t forget mine, that is.”

The sudden sweetness (and shameless flirt) made your cheeks turn a light pink, but since you no longer had your guard up around the man you’d seen become your closest friend as of lately, you didn’t back down.

“Forget your name? Don’t make me laugh, Mister.... er, remind me again?”

“Oh, you’re such a comedian,” he groaned, playfully crossing his arms as he slumped in the seat a bit. After a moment of thinking, he snickered to himself, a sign that he’d thought of something that probably was only funny to him. But he said it anyways. “If I ask you out now, would it be considered a blind date since you don’t know my name, apparently?”

You were right. It wasn’t that funny. But it was kind of cute, in an endearing dork sort of way, and that was basically John in a nutshell. And he was being far more direct than he’d ever been before, which was saying something... because that question still wasn’t direct.

“Why don’t you find out?” you teased gently, but there weren’t any malicious or ill-intended undertones to your voice. There was a kindness to it instead, one that fueled John’s confidence and coaxed him out of his shell - your kindness always brought out a more confident version of John. He was able to be himself around you, a more sure self.

“Would you let me take you on a blind date tomorrow, then? To the Italian place just down the street?” he asked, smiling a bit shyly, but still warmly, over at you. And you returned the smile, just like when you met.

“Of course. What kind of guy should I look for when I get there?”

“Oh, about 6′4, incredibly fit. Great hair, too.”

And for BoRhap, I ship you with Joe Mazzello! (the deacy duo wow blessed)

I think Gwilym’s a bit too political for you, and Ben, although sweet, probably would egg on your perfectionism too much. Despite his rough-seeming qualities, at his basis element, he’s pretty type-A (look at his fashion sense, for example - only someone with a type-A personality dresses that well in an AIRPORT. I bet you’ve got hella fashion in the airport. Y’all would stress each other out in that respect, even though you’re not completely type-A from the sounds of it).

And although we love Rami, I think he’d be a bit too awkward to hit it off with you romantically. But, you definitely could be friends. And that’s how you would meet Joe, who is just dweeby enough yet outgoing enough to really mesh well with you.

You’d probably meet Joe by chance when you stop by Rami’s. And as chance would also have it, you would have no idea that Joe was there, so when you immediately start talking once Rami invites you in, your chatty Cathy nature and general unawareness makes you completely oblivious to Joe until you literally run right into him.

“Rams, if I had a dollar for every time you managed to remember to grab ALL of your things before you left my apartment, I’d be broke. Boxers this time, really? How do you forget those, you didn’t even had a second outfit, did you? You worry me,” you rambled as you walked in, handing him a bag that contained his missing boxers. He followed you down the hallway, grumbling as he did so.

“Thanks for bringing them here. But I absolutely had a second outfit in my bag. I’m not a heathen, you know!”

“Thank God you’re not a heathen, I was so worried,” you teased playfully, giving him a playful eyeroll before you rounded the corner into the kitchen and ran straight into another human. A yelp escaped your lips as you barely managed to catch the bowl of popcorn that you’d knocked out of his hands, some of it spilling directly onto your shirt and getting just a bit of butter stains on the fabric.

All Rami could do was snicker to himself as you stared at Joe, still a bit shocked by the abrupt encounter. And Joe, ever the blushing dweeb, was already laughing at himself and apologizing profusely while Rami grabbed paper towels.

“I am so sorry, what a terrible first impression!” Joe laughed, taking the popcorn back from you carefully before sitting it on the counter and watching you with a curious, yet guilty look as Rami returned with a few paper towels, handing them to you so you could clean up a bit.

“Oh, it’s my fault!” you dismissed quietly, your voice still a bit shy but sure enough to let Joe know that you didn’t blame him. “I didn’t pay attention to where I was going.” You laughed to yourself as you cleaned your shirt off as best as you could. Meanwhile, Rami put in another bag of popcorn to pop, then hung back while he observed the two of you awkwardly trying to salvage the situation.

“Well, either way, I’m so sorry!” Joe apologized again, tugging on his collar a bit nervously. When you were quiet in response, far too shy to try another joking response to someone you didn’t recognize, Joe shot Rami a quick look that could only be a cry for help.

“This is Joe,” Rami interjected, leaning on the counter as he gave you both an amused smile. “And this is Y/N. I think I’ve told you both about each other.”

“Is this the Pacific guy?” you asked, pointing to Joe as you looked at Rami questioningly. He nodded, and you grinned a bit as you looked back at Joe. “Rami seems to have a bit of a crush on you, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, and I have just as big of a crush on him, for sure,” Joe joked back without missing a beat, sending Rami a quick wink before he grinned back at you, slightly intrigued by your wittiness despite being so quiet.

But when you were quiet in response again, he just took it as an invitation to keep talking, which is exactly what you needed - Joe taking charge of the conversation from the get go greatly helped your initial awkwardness, and made the situation not so quiet and uncomfortable. Which, in turn, boosted your confidence a bit and made you not so distant in the future.

“And if you’re Y/N, that means I’ve heard quite a few things about you. Rami also speaks pretty highly of you, and returning his nasty ol’ boxers? Admirable.”

“Oh my god, Joe, don’t talk shit about my boxers like I’m not right here!” Rami interjected, making a jokingly hurt face as he picked up the boxers and stalked out of the room with them. As he left, the microwave stopped and Joe walked over to retrieve the popcorn, bringing it over to the bowl carefully.

“Promise I won’t spill this one on you.”

After that, you joined their movie night and you found you had a lot in common with Joe - he was very much like Rami in the sense that he was a big dork, which you immediately hooked on to.

But he was also very charming when he wanted to be, which he definitely wanted to be around you. From the moment he saw you, he was pretty entranced by the long hair-dark eye combo. You looked like some sort of Lady Godiva character, and he found that attractive from the very beginning. And it goes without saying that he was pretty cute too.

So one day, when you were out on the town with just him and you mentioned cutting your hair just in passing, you thought he was about to have a heart attack.

“What? No!” he’d immediately protested, looking at you like he’d seen a ghost. You were both headed home from a game that he’d bought tickets for as a sort of date thing - you were both still feeling things out, but definitely had some sort of feelings for each other (yes, Rami was a proud momma hen when he found out). You’d noticed that you sort of liked the look of your hair when it was behind your shoulders, about shoulder length, when you were putting on his baseball cap.

“My god, Joe, are you gonna be alright?” you laughed, giving him a gentle nudge with your elbow as you both exited the subway car at his stop. Like clockwork, you both headed up to the east exit, on his side of the street. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world. I didn’t say I was going to cut it. I just think it looks kinda cute short.”

“So you’re not cutting it?” he asked hopefully, looking over at you with an equally hopeful look as you ascended the steps together, walking in sync. “You better not be. I’ll fight hand and teeth for you to not cut it.”

“Would it really be a crime if I did?” you teased gently, reaching the top of the steps with him and heading for his apartment. After a moment of contemplation, he looked over at you. To help his deliberations, you pulled your hair back over your shoulders and gathered up the rest of it in your hand, hiding the length of it. With that, he sighed.

“Damn it, you’re right. You’re even cute with short hair.” Grumbling to himself a bit too much, he unlocked the front door to his apartment building and held the door open for you while you giggled softly at his melodramatic annoyance. “Oh, hush. You knew that I’d lose this argument, didn’t you?”

“Well, it wasn’t really an argument. You never got the chance in the first place,” you reminded him, and he gave you a playful eyeroll as you both got in the elevator together. When the doors closed, it was quiet again. A bit more quiet than either of you would have liked.

But, the quiet did bring one good thing. Joe got the balls to say what was on his mind, mainly because the silence had spooked him a bit. Unbeknownst to him, you were just partially zoned out, easily having lapsed into a daydream that may or may not have been about Joe.

(It was.)

His voice did lull you out of the dreamlike state, though, and you listened as the elevator slowly rose through the building. “I just really like your long hair. You look like a badass, it’s really cute. But you also look like a badass with short hair, so that’s completely unfair to my case, you know? I guess I’m just trying to tell you to stop being cute, please and thank you. It would make my life a lot easier and asking you out on another date a lot less stressful.”

“That is.... so cheesy, Joe. But thanks,” you laughed, giving him another gentle nudge. This one, he returned, along with a goofy smile that made your heart melt. “And right back at you.”

“Wow, you think I’d be cute with long hair? I’m flattered.”

“Oh my god. The last part, smartaleck. Why do I even go on dates with you?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I guess I’m lucky we’re both cute.”

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