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meibemeibelline · 4 years

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part 3 (FINAL) of highlights from that 32k word doc i wrote when i marathoned gazette songs (2012-2018)

PART 1 | PART 2

once again:

This is a combo of thoughts on music, lyrics and other random things I wrote while listening. Not every song will be featured, sorry.

I sometimes directly quote translations and when I do, I’ll specify whose it was. Here are the masterposts of lyrics by Heresiarchy , Defective Tragedy and Trauma Radio

I will write song titles for which there are warnings in bold and all caps

So this part will be a bit different because mental health and The Band became really prominent themes in their music in a way it wasn’t really before, so rather than simply writing about songs as they come, I do (attempt to) connect some dots between songs and albums

Also this is REALLY LONG (~5k words)

If you read any of these posts, thank you <3

CONTENT WARNINGS: murder (In Blossom), reference to abuse (In Blossom), suicide/suicidal thoughts (Kagefumi, Deux/Blemish), reference to PTSD (Incubus). Overall LOTS of discussions about mental health.

buckle up folks it’s gonna be a long one

So I listened to Division according to the limited edition version where the songs got split into the ‘story-like songs’ and the ‘hype songs’. Just while we’re on that, I like to think that Vein is the story part because these songs (the blood) are meant to go TO our hearts, while Artery, which is the ‘raw emotion’, is the heart doing the talking and supplying the oxygen that will do its thing. LIKE HEADBANGING.

“Ibitsu is not the first song they’ve written about changes in the music industry, but it’s quite different from others like 13Stairs[-]1 and Dim Scene. They were quite angry about the state of things, lamenting it. But here, Ruki is writing his and the band’s place in all of that. It’s like in the other two songs he’s like, “wow look at all this rubble. This sucks.” But in Ibitsu he’s writing about how he’s also in that rubble and thinks about what HE feels about it in relation to himself and the GazettE. And I find that quite interesting. Also hell YES imagery – skies as ideals, the world around them collapsing into ruin, the band as a flower amidst the rubble that can’t reach the sky. It sounds like he’s trying to navigate how he’s supposed to move forward when his ideals and what’s happening in the industry oppose each other quite a lot. He doesn’t reach an answer in this song and ends by asking whether it is actually in ruins or whether he’s just afraid of change, I think.” - interestingly, he uses this same imagery in Kuroku Sunda Sora to Zangai to Katahane to write about anxiety and not feeling good enough.

Quick disclaimer on KAGEFUMI: I do want to say first that I’m talking about this purely as a piece of art. Not as in, like, “this is peak romance”, but just as an artwork I can have Opinions™ about, even if they’re possibly in disagreement with that of the creator. “The shadow tag metaphor for a couple committing double suicide meaning that they’re ‘becoming one’ and being together in death is A Lot. There’s an incredibly strong belief in an afterlife where they can be together makes (what Ruki describes) this stronger bond between them that literally lasts or even transcends the boundaries between life and death, rather than a tragic end (unlike Tokyo Shinjuu). Musically, I love this song and think it’s gorgeous, the way it’s sad yet hopeful. We over here with that bittersweet stuff again but lyrically it’s a WILDLY different route than others before it.”

“Yoin is such a heavy end to disc 1. The ending lines, “The sea of loss / Understanding of helplessness / That day we grieved” about the Tohoku earthquake/tsunami and the nuclear disaster is just so ……. And not only that, but how even though people still struggle to survive, people are moving on like it’s a thing of the past. It’s SO heavy.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“I think [Derangement] is about a massive internal struggle between wanting longing for the past, knowing it won’t come back, but also wanting to destroy the past out of self-hatred. There are aspects of the past, perhaps ambition and drive for example, that are good, but other parts that are not. It’s almost like a continuation of Remember the Urge but like…angrier and with more hatred towards his own past rather than only the longing of it. Which is also really interesting.” – this is definitely one of the themes that comes up A LOT from now, ESPECIALLY in Ninth. We’ll get to that.

“IS KAI GOOD??? That man is NOT human. I swear to god his drums in Required Malfunction are INSANE. ANYWAY, this song is about how people cannot be perfect and we all have flaws, especially in the context of relationships. I like that even though people argue and butt heads sometimes, there’s that Japanese verse where he sings “Let’s send a song without stains / to that innocence without lies / so you can swallow those wounds” and the last lines “Because you are always here, I can advance” to mean like…them being together can ultimately make them better and it can be a good relationship (if they work on it, imo). Also, I love the language he uses here – viruses and malfunctions and inputs – a very non-human way to write about human relationships.” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

(Dripping Insanity) “Solitude drenched in red laughs / in the insanity dripping in silence” is SUCH a good line yes hello I appreciate this. (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“EYYY HAVEN’T HEARD FORBIDDEN BEAVER IN FOREVER. At first I was wondering if this might be judgmental but honestly? I think this is satirical, especially from the line “May the truth you spew on taboos going frantically around / Shred the rhythm of high society”. Like the fact they’re gossiping about a famous woman who has a lot of sex and just TARNISHING her name bc of it, to Ruki, is a load of bullshit. Also, some of the lyrics in the chorus are funny coming from Ruki – “She has a sex addiction / Bang! Bang! / Cute luv machine” – like he does NOT ever write like this and this song is just a huge satirical joke I’m YELLING.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The transition from Malformed Box to Inside Beast >>>>”

“[Inside Beast] is definitely about having a ‘beast’ inside you that’s like all your demons and ugly feelings and to let them all out. He wrote about demons in Derangement, but the way he writes about acceptance is like…empowering and freeing. Not necessarily through words but through the music and just how hard this song slaps.”

“I really love the lyrics of [Until it Burns Out] and its whole thing about valuing the time they have as a band and to be together making music precisely because it’s going to end someday, and it’s going to be their last shot at living their dreams, which is to make music and perform TOGETHER as the GazettE. Like that’s so meaningful, and powerful in the way they just…grab it by the fucking throat. Breaking down the walls that hold them back, TOGETHER, towards the future in which they see their dreams. Like they’re not letting this be the end. They won’t allow it. UGH. UGHHH. The middle eight is so beautiful and I love the lines “The light that colours this irreplaceable scenery / burns the significance of standing here into me / Until the last” like they just love performing SO MUCH UGGGHHH FEELINGS”. (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“[REDO] IS SO GODDAMN SENTIMENTAL I’M IN MY FEELINGSSSSS. Kai being the composer, I can’t help but feel this is him paying homage to jazz, which is the music his mother plays and he loves her so so much. I’m probably reaching but THAT’S JUST HOW I FEEL.”

“EVERBODY SHUT UPPPP IT’S LAST HEAVEN TIMEEEE. It’s so gd gorgeous and sweet. I’M GETTING REALLY EMO WHAT THE FUCKKKK. BRUH. BRUUUUHHH. THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL //THROWS. SHUT UPPPP. TOO MANY SKY, STAR AND FOREVER REFERENCES FOR THIS TO BE OKAY BITCH. This is Ruki’s love song to the cosmos, wishing to be eternal like the stars but acknowledging that all he can do is chase it knowing his life will end, BUT THAT THEY DON’T HAVE TO GRIEVE BECAUSE THEY WILL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE IN SOME WAY WE /ARE/ ETERNAL. IT’S LOVING AND INNOCENT AND WISTFUL. This song is the goddess to all the GazettE love songs. THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK. “The distant sky, this infinite moment / I now wish from the visible stars / in this youthful merry-go-round / that continues to turn endlessly / I want to be eternal like you” – is just…such a beautiful image. “Let’s stay like this, having dreams we cannot reach / Long road which leads to the calm hill / I go, leaving my sadness behind / Good night…my beloved / Last heaven of mine” – it’s yearning but it’s the yearning for LIFE. And to leave behind sadness…Ruki very rarely writes about pain like this. And to call the ‘beloved’ his last heaven, the last thing in his life that’s just THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO HIM AND THE THING HE WANTS TO BE ETERNAL WITH goodbye………GOODBYE. “Love without shape changing day by day / Close together / we become / one shooting star” – AAAHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. Also, for him to say ‘memento mori’ which means “Remember, you must die” in the middle eight of a song about wanting to be eternal just gives the entire sentiment a new meaning ;-;” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“There’s a particular sound to Division and Beautiful Deformity (but more in BD). It sounds like rushing water. Loss in particular sounds like this. Like, the sound isn’t just ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’, it moves A LOT and there is sooo much emotionality in the songs on this album. It’s really dynamic.”

“The Stupid Tiny Insect revisits the theme of inner demons. Specifically, in this song it sounds like negative internal self-talk. It’s interesting though, the way that Ruki writes it as an entirely separate being to how he writes inner demons and whatnot in other songs, where it’s either another entity within a person that is part of them OR just…themselves. Here, they are VERY separate, and that probably allows him to feel and express rage instead of helplessness or confusion. I also love the reference to pretending to be okay – “I get high on delusion / And act as if I made them die out / ‘Just like a summer moth to a flame”.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“IN BLOSSOM is pretty fucking brilliant lyrically imo. It reminds me a lot of 32 Koukei no Pistol in that a protagonist who was abused/neglected by the parents kills them, and in the latter’s case only, also themselves. Some other differences: In Blossom is WAY angrier (and a lot more loaded) and the protagonist is trying to ‘make their own life’ (even if the way they choose to do that DOESN’T WORK), whereas the narrator in 32 Calibre Pistol was mostly lamenting that they’ve ‘lost their way’ and deep-down were wishing for their family to be happy together. I can’t say WHY that is. But it’s interesting that in In Blossom, the abuse just…DESTROYED their concept of family that they used to believe in entirely, and the fact they cannot separate themselves from their abusers neither by dying nor killing them is A Lot. So, they try to free themselves and ‘get hope’ by killing their abusers as revenge (“Die away, along with these wounds I’d counted”), but it doesn’t bring them happiness or heal them (“Even if I slash so much it’s unparalleled by the wounds I’d counted, it still starts to ache / It doesn’t even fight off the decay, much less heal me”). It’s very much saying that despite pain, revenge is not the answer. I also love the line “They adorn vividly – have blossomed beautifully / The sun that has started to set makes sure of it” to describe the wounds as the narrator kills their abusers and their loss of sanity as they do so.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“To Dazzling Darkness is about that moment when a concert is over and the lights start to come on. It’s so gorgeous. This is sort of like, the other side of Until it Burns Out. If UIBO is about the band then TDD is about the fans, and the band’s place in the world. I love the imagery in the first verse – darkness is usually associated with bad things, but here darkness is peace, escapism and unity that are part of the happiness of a concert, while the light symbolises the continuation of life. The scenery here is the same scenery in UIBO, which is the scenery of a concert that this band cherishes. There’s also the acknowledgement that time is fleeting and nothing is forever. Like, this is really the other side of the coin and I love it.”

“Dogma defines their new (2015) sound so well, which is HEAVY AND DIRTY AS FUCK. Like, it is SO conceptual and experimental and the painting is just GORGEOUS. I love the harpsichord in this song – as the predecessor of the piano, it was used in a lot of churches and religious music in the Baroque period (1600-1750ish), so using it here in a song where the band is likened to idols (the religious type) is super cool. And to combine it with these really low and heavy guitars just gives the DARKEST image.

And there’s so much going on in the lyrics – MANY MOTIFS, MANY MEANINGS. They bring back the concept of darkness as a symbol for escape from harsh life and of unity during concerts. As for death, Reita has an iconic quote where he said something along the lines of: “we often say in lives ‘to die’, but what we actually mean is to live. Live and be free”. I see death for GazettE as a kind of transformation – and end, yet also a beginning to become something or someone new.

Ruki hasn’t really mentioned god since Ogre in Dim, in which he basically wrote “idk if God exists but I don’t really care – all I need is me”. But here he likens the band to an idol of worship. We as the fans worship the GazettE, and they are also gods to us, their followers, in the sense that they provide us with life and unity (referred to here as death and darkness, respectively). The GazettE as a band brings darkness and death to the world (with their own meanings, of course).

This is also a song about the band breaking away from current gods and dogmas of the music industry, and from its greed. I also love the line, “The rite I must face is cloaked in darkness and isolation” – this process of their journey to finding their truth is lonely, and no one but them can do it for themselves. To do so also isolates them from everything they once knew. It’s them navigating what is expected of them by the masses and those they work with vs doing what they want without getting shunned for it.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“DAWN IS ABOUT REDISCOVERING THEMSELVES. I love the number of metaphors he brings back in this song – 13 stairs, death, merry-go-rounds and again dogma. Death here is about the transformation of them as a band, which occurs at the top of the 13 stairs to the gallows. And I find that so interesting because he uses the image of gallows (eg: 13 Stairs[-]1 and Forbidden Beaver) as like…an actual Death that means the end of a genre or a person’s reputation, but here it’s a place of transformation. In Last Heaven, the merry-go-round is a symbol of life – it comes back here but this time it’s red instead of blue (youthful) and is paired with the image of a mad banquet with emotions running wild (ie concerts). Basically, this is about the band’s life and, like, their life being about concerts. My favourite part is “Overcoming a period of confusion, I took those stirring emotions / And hung them up high on the 13 stairs” because there’s also the line “I’ve already had a lethal dose of misfortune / The ruined gallows towers above me” -> WE WENT THROUGH SOME SHIT BUT WE FOUND OURSELVES AND SURPRISE BITCH, BET YOU THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME.” (Cr1: Heresiarchy, Cr2: Defective Tragedy)

Not from my notes directly but I feel like the difference between Bizarre to Juuyonsai no Knife (ie the only two songs about Real juvenile criminals) is a REALLY good representation of how Ruki’s lyrics have changed over the years. He went from taking perspectives of people who perpetrators of violence (to write horror stories, imo, but also to generally Explore their minds through art) to making comments about society and how systems affect people in real life. Not to say he doesn’t write about killers anymore or that social commentary is NEW for him, but just…a big change in what’s PROMINENT.

“Interesting that Wasteland is next, which is about Justice on the Internet. I know Ruki has always been really critical of the internet and the kind of social processes that occur online (see: Nakigahara) and here it’s about morality and justice, but more importantly the way it’s about crowd mindsets and CONTROL. And he just summarises it SO WELL in the first verse: “The thousand eyes that can kill even God / Transform into rebels that lust for control / If the time comes when right and wrong disappear / It will all end with a blood-red moon”. There’s also the line “Innocence gives way to sinful judgment” ie the innocent go along with their ways or it’s the innocent (the weak, as he says later) that are scrutinised. And I think about this a lot considering…some other fandoms I’m in >.>” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(INCUBUS) “The song is a lot of wondering what they did to deserve their trauma and how they want the dreams/nightmares to go away. I do like that at the end of the song they come to the conclusion that they cannot change what happened and decide “fuck the why”, accepting they didn’t deserve it. Even though the narrator is still stuck in the maze (of trauma), the letting go of asking why it happened is like, a really important step in healing. Because it’s the end of self-blame. So, I hope narrator can heal :( “

(DEUX) “My dumbass never realised this but the music of Deux itself has DUALITY. Metal with solo piano. IT REALLY TOOK ME FIVE YEARS TO REALISE THAT HUH. It’s about two conflicting selves (which to me sound more like intrusive thoughts, considering Blemish’s VERY LOUD “These days I’m better dead”) and the effect that has on like, your emotionality and how it leads to loneliness. His use of nightmares in this song is fascinating – the Japanese word he uses (sakayume) is like…a reverse dream, like if a child has a nightmare you tell them it’s a sakayume so it means what happened in their dream definitely won’t happen AND something good will happen instead. And this is something Ruki prays for.”

(Ominous) “The imagery is really dark in this – “A prayer crushed under wreckage / Reflects in your eyes as you start to fly / I see you in the sky thick with shadows / Spinning around with nightmares” – there’s a desperate attempt to fly and get better and do Well but still they’re surrounded by darkness and nightmares, unable to escape. “Don’t forget that a heart cannot die / Don’t forget that dreams aren’t predictions of the future” –There’s hopefulness in a heart not dying yet a very strong despair when he says dreams don’t predict the future, not even reverse dreams. “It steals away my still-unformed future, and whenever I step forth / I can’t see a thing in that shadowed sky / My screaming can’t save anything / when I’m killing myself with sadness” – oh that hurts, that hurts A LOT. He wants to fly but he can’t. This is just SO MUCH. And they didn’t even have an instrumental outro, IT JUST ENDS WITH ACCEPTANCE OF HOPELESSNESS AND DEPRESSION.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The drums in Goddess uggghhh UGGGHHH. AND THE GUITAR TOOOOOO. Lyrically, this is really a mid-point between depression and healing. It’s A Lot. He writes about his suffering, wanting to make something of his mistakes and his sins and actually WANTING TO LIVE. But it’s so sad that in the end he still feels really helpless – the subtle changes between “I want to become the stars that fill the silence” vs “I can’t become the stars that fill the silence”. But I think that on some level he knows what the next step is. He wishes in the last two lines, “If only I could share my grief that can’t be put to words / If only I could face reality and live accepting my crippling despair”. THAT’S THE FIRST STEP!!!! THAT’S A STEP!!!! TO HEALING!!!! “These bleak thoughts are my sacrifice that will one day begin to thaw into a selfless, smiling heart” – this line is fucking LOADED. Like, he sacrifices his bleak thoughts by expressing them and by making art out of his pain in hopes that he will be able to acknowledge and accept his suffering and his pain as a means to heal, as a way of allowing him to have a selfless and smiling heart. Like, this is SO much of what his art is about and what it has been for SUCH a long time it makes me so emotional that this is what he’s saying about his own lyrics.” I realise too that the goddess is likely the same goddess from Blemish. I’m still unsure what to make of it because Blemish ends in Ruki writing he doesn’t wants to be reborn, and not abandoned. But here he ends with wanting to heal. Wanting to move on and live.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO UNDYING.

“WHEN HE BROUGHT BACK “SLEEP, COUNT ME DOWN AGAIN” >>> God, this song is so powerful. THERE ARE SO MANY CALL-BACKS TO DOGMA. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN THIS BUT STILL. BITCH WHAT THE FUCK. It’s a direct continuation of Ominous (“I won’t arise from this”). I think in this song he’s becoming that figure that is flying in Ominous, and the one that is surrounded by nightmares and shadows – the first verses are about how the future is drenched in misfortune yet we must continue to live (and suffer, but WE CAN AT LEAST BE A BIT HOPEFUL). Ruki says this YET HE IS STILL DREAMING, EVEN AS THE END COMES (“My heart starts to disappear along with the spirit of my words / And though it knew the end was near / It dreamt of things it shouldn’t want / And even now I am still—“). There’s also his mentions of sins again that he continues to drown in :( But overall, this song is really about living despite all the pain, which is really meaningful after Dogma ended on such a note of hopelessness. There’s so much power in this song.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“Vacant doesn’t necessarily sound like a romantic relationship breaking down as much as it is about making a mistake and being unable to fix it between you and someone else (or other people), even if Ruki said he wrote it with a band’s image in mind. But the gist is is that there is yet again a struggle within the self (“Self-condemnation distorts the answer / And I lose sight of what I should be / Because of those unconscious actions / I can’t even dream”). The line “In the pain of not being able to tie back the undone thread / The traces left by stopping time keep piling up” really got to me – being stuck in time and constantly wishing for something that was and being hurt by the fact it’s gone is something I personally relate to. But even as the narrator is stuck in time, their grip on the past is loosening – they are forgetting, memories fade, and they lose their strength (“Vacant, you are withering”).” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

(Faling) ““Together, embracing the same pain: it’s only temporary / Don’t forget that this is not the end / So come on, let’s open our eyes and fall / We just believe in ourselves to die / Sometimes it’s okay to be broken” THIS MEANS SO FUCKING MUCH AFTER THE AMOUNT OF TIMES RUKI ENDED DOGMA SONGS WITH HOPELESSNESS AND AT BEST “WE HAVE TO KEEP LIVING AND SUFFERING AND BEING IN PAIN” BUT IN FALLING, PAIN IS TEMPORARY. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. WE WILL HEAL, BITCH. WE WILL GET BETTER, BITCH.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

Can’t find my notes bc it’s somewhere else in my Tumblr drafts but basically: I consider Mortal, Utsusemi and Sono Kore wa Moroku like a Depression Trilogy™ in Ninth. Mortal is about depression, loneliness and loss but like, tying it to a singular person or event in which the narrator felt grief. Utsusemi is about loneliness and depression as well, AND RUKI USES THE CICADA SHELL METAPHOR, WHICH IS THE SAME AS CRUCIFY SORROW (ALSO ABOUT DEPRESSION, BUT SOMEONE ELSE’S). But then, Sono Koe wa Moroku is THE turning point and where he first mentions (in this album) and actual DESIRE to heal and like, ON HIS OWN. IT’S ABOUT BEING STRONG FOR HIMSELF AND THAT MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL. And as I mentioned before, Falling also ends on a hopeful note about sadness not lasting forever – it’s like he’s prefacing the album with the fact sadness IS temporary and that there IS a turning point.

“Babylon’s Taboo is interesting…so apparently Babylon is a figure of western imperialism and capitalism in the Rastafari movement (an afro-centric anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist movement from Jamaica). The narrator is COMPLETELY aware of the oppression and injustice that goes on around him but confesses to doing nothing. I interpreted this as complacency to violence, which Ruki has written about before. Also, he describes a starry sky (which I presume represents wealth and happiness) as a lie, and that they are actually black eyes that watch and look down upon you. In the context of anti-capitalism, my interpretation is that the ‘guaranteed fate’ he writes about is the life-long struggle to attain wealth and happiness – we are doomed to dedicate our lives to this, futilely, to no end. and there’s nothing we can do about it. Another line that stood out to me most is “all I need is sanity but uncertainty will do”. this, along with the rest of the song, implies that the narrator is PRETTY DAMN SURE that we’re all fucked so like....HAHA COOL.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Two of a Kind) Okay so…another motif I noticed in this album is an I and a You. And I know this sounds weird considering almost EVERY SINGLE GAZETTE SONG uses first and second pronouns, but mental health is SUCH a prominent, overarching theme in a way no album concept has been before, hence why I’m saying this. Two of a Kind is really solidifying this for me, but they appear in almost every song (but the You is known as ‘she’ in The Mortal). This pair are connected in an extremely emotionally intimate way. For one, they share pain and understand each other’s pain. Secondly, the narrator falls into depression after they’re gone. A part of me thinks it could be a past self and a current self, considering Ruki’s said this album involved the Most introspection from him and Falling writes about sins and past mistakes again. So, it could be a way of separating a past and current self – a past self that was perhaps lost, and made mistakes, but ultimately creates his current self.

But it could also be another person, as this You figure is also a source of light – someone Ruki shares his wounds with, in Two of a Kind. If it’s another person, it may also make sense that the depression and loneliness written about in The Mortal and Utsusemi is triggered by someone extremely close leaving him. Either way, it is this understanding and connection between the I and the You that also bring hope for the future and I REALLY love the way that hope is conveyed in the chorus of Two of a Kind. There’s so much light in it compared to the parts of the song where ruki calls himself filthy and ugly, and when he writes about negative feelings that never go away and bleed into this other person. but i think this other person understands it, and that’s why he can move on.

“Abhor God is a REALLY dark and heavy take on MOVING FORWARD. Like there’s so much rage in the way he writes about killing his lust, pride and anxiety and stringing up his nightmares in a noose, yet so much power in how he moves forward and sings victory with his music and his art. This is likely connected to Ninth Odd Smell and Uragiru Bero - where he writes about the band’s history and his imposter syndrome as an artist despite the band never going to die just because of that. He contrasts ‘too fast to live’ and ‘too young to die’ like, he’s really in a sort of purgatory where he’s constantly making too many mistakes to be happy but has too much to do for him to give up. So it’s here that he chooses to keep going no matter how weak the beat is. Imagery-wise this feels like.....continuing to live not because you have happiness to look forward to but just out of sheer willpower. Like it’s just so angry. Angry at the world, at yourself, but carrying that anger to try to be better and move forward.”

“And Unfinished is about the fans being his reasons to live and IT MAKES ME VERY EMOTIONAL THAT THIS IS HOW THE ALBUM ENDS!!!!!!! WITH HOPE!!!!! AND MOVING FORWARD!!!!! THEY LITERALLY ENDED THEIR ALBUM THAT’S ABOUT THEM ‘MAKING THEIR MARK ON THEIR WORLD’ WITH LIGHT AND HOPE AFTER LIKE TWO STRAIGHT ALBUMS OF /DEPRESSION/. EVERYBODY GO HOME WE LOVE HEALING IN THIS HOUSE.”

AND THAT’S THE END FOLKS!!!! if you made it here thank you so much for reading my ramblings and i appreciate u so so much <3 i hope you learned something new about the gazette’s music (i sure did - it’s why i went on this marathon in the first place!!) and again i have a list of posts i might write (which will definitely be shorter than these) so! yeah! anyway!! it’s past 11pm and i have no more brain cells. thanks again love ya have a good day/night <3 <3

#the gazette #gazetto #ruki #uruha #aoi #reita #the gazette kai #kai #the gazette ruki #the gazette uruha #the gazette aoi #the gazette reita #why am i tagging this #anyway i just want to say #i tried to stream bts' new song while putting this together #but i physically COULD NOT #the dissonance was too much #anw i love dynamite it's such a great serotonin boost haha <3

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femaleboysblog · 5 years

Text

♥ super(hero) love ♥

| hwang hyunjin x superhero!reader | sorry for any mistakes! english is not my first language!

part i | part ii (final)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: tumblr!au, fanfic writer!reader x fan!hyunjin, enemies to lovers, fluff!!!, minor violence cause u know superhero stuff yadda yadda, some cursing here and there, (1) alcohol mention,

A/N: just rewriting some old stuff :) | gender neutral reader (if you consider dude a gender neutral term lol)

“ Hi y/n! I’m sorry if i’m bothering you, but i just came by to say that i’ve read your last chapter last night and i can’t help but fall in love with your writing, you never disappoint! You’re always so creative when it comes to making stories and putting them into words, it’s almost like you’ve lived them! haha. So i just wanted to ask, where do you get your ideas? What are your inspirations? With love, Genie ;)”

Damn it. I stared at the ask i just received for a few long and tortuous minutes, definitely more than it was actually necessary. But hey, don't blame me for that, i mean, how in the hell i'm supposed to answer that? I can’t just go and say "Hi again Genie! Thank you for all the love, i really appreciate it! I get all my inspiration on my day-to-day life as a superhero. You probably have heard about me, i'm that one person with white clothes that shows all the time - if not every single day, in the morning news for saving and helping the city and their beloved citizens. Most people just call me 'the light hero' even though they know the right name for the supervillains, in special, Scarlet Devil - my arch enemy. In case you don't know my superhero name either, i go by Starlight. Kinda lame, i know. But it fits with the backstory of how i got my powers. Since it's a situation i went through, of course i'm going to know all the details in full experience and in first person, even that one where the protagonist rips his pants in the middle of a fight in the street and in front of everyone, only to reveal his red underwear constrasting the rest of the outfit, that is something i will never be able to forget, sadly. Hope i didn't disappoint you!" Let's be real, i could. Kinda. But i won't be doing that for obvious reasons, i don't want even more people after my back because of this, the police is more than enough.

I sighed, pushing my chair closer to the desk and cracking my fingers so i could write something in return that didn't sound suspicious at all. "Hi Genie," i started, already struggling a little,"I really appreciate asks like this and i'm also happy to know that at least one person likes the lame things i write! :) I get all my inspiration from.." No, stop, stop. I can just go all in like that, i have to be subtle. Normal writers usually get their inspirations in a lot of differents things and ideas, if i say something like that there is a chance that it would come out weird. I think. "I get most of my inspiration in, well, superheros, of course. I read a lot of comics, books and i really like watching movies and animations with any types of heros. :)" Sent. That actually went a little better than expected. "Genie" whoever it was, sent another ask only a seconds after, i clicked on it already starting to feel anxious again. "That's so cool! I suppose you are into superheros in real life too. If so, are you fan of any of them?" Why did they had to send questions that are so hard and complicated to answer like that? The only superhero i know well enough to pretend that i am a fan of is Jeongin, you probably know him by Spark. But he also reads my blog and wouldn't let me live if i ever said i'm his fan, another thing i'm not really found of. Another superhero i'm really close with would be, well me, of course.

"Actually, i do. I'm a big fan of Starlight for some time, what about you?" I answered, my choice of words trying to be as lowkey and casual as possible, putting the right amount of weight in them. This person, whoever they were, seemed to be nosy sometimes like a shy high-schooler wanting to keep the conversation going with someone with that they liked and in a way, that was most likely the situation. They’re the only person who follows my blog for some time that i remember constantly sending me messages and checking up on me but the one thing that was different this time was that the person, my fellow readers, forgot to put the ‘anon’ option on this time, their blog url shined brightly and effortlessly on my computer screen.

This time, Genie took a while to answer, so i took that as a chance to take a look at their blog. Clicking on their url, i started scrolling down their posts. I couldn't help but cringe really hard when i started noticing that most of their posts was reblogs from fyeahscarletdevil and others fansites with cheesy compliments in the tags, they seemed to be a really big fan of the supervillain, my supervillain. The one who puts kittens in really high places where they can't come down anymore, the one who sets fire in close neighbourhoods backyards and gardens to ruin their grass and flowers they worked so hard on, the one who sets dogs out of their leashes suddenly creating an army of dogs or anything that would cause disturbance in the peace of those around him in the world. I want to say i am starting to see red out of anger but in all honesty, that would make me even more pissed. Red is his color, just like white is mine. Unclenching and relaxing my jaw, - bad habit, i know - i hadn’t even noticed Genie had answered. “Oh really? I’m a major fan of Scarlet Devil!” No shit, Sherlock. Duh. “I think he’s a great dude who fits perfectly in the whole ‘model’ supervillain concept! Especially when it comes to Starlight too! They both are made for each other and have a perfect chemistry, they would be nothing without one another like soulmates. I probably sound like a total nerd now, but thats what i think lol wbu? - Genie” They signed in the end, even though it was obvious it was them. Not only did this person ship me with my arch enemy, they were also a big giant nerd and a huge fanboy of the red devil. Rubbing my forehead, i prepared myself to write back a long and sharp reply arguing against everything they said, ready to win and probably lose one of my readers in the process. Or more than one, you never know how many creeps who are his fans are lurking on this website.

Turns out Genie, was a very cute boy called Hwang Hyunjin who lived close by the neighbourhood i lived at, he was tall and acted very shy when he wasn’t talking about things that he liked very much, such as supervillains, dancing and comics. After our argument that day about which one was better - Starlight and the one who shall not be named, we got extremely close to the point i couldn’t go one day without texting him and in some nights we’re one of us couldn’t sleep, we would call the other and talk for hours. Since today, we both had the day free, he suggested that we met in person for the first time and the weather being intensely hot and stuffy right now, we settled in the shopping, going for a walk and eating ice scream while getting to know each other more and maybe even watching a movie together. But if that’s not obvious enough already, i have a major, gigantic, mega, blast, huge, enormous crush on him. From the way he softly laughed when he talked about this new move he learned with his group of friends who danced too, from the way he asked me how my day went and actually listened to me talking about it carefully showing he actually did care, the way he blushed at every compliment i gave him. I could feel my heart beat faster with the thought of seeing his cute moles in person and of even having an opportunity to hold his hands. But, was this a date? Does he even like me back? Would he stop talking to me if he found out i am Starlight? Would he start liking me only because he found out i am Starlight? No, i should worry about all of this later. I took a deep breath in hope to calm myself down, looking at my phone. I’m not going to bring it with me this time, what if Jeongin calls me for an emergency or him being a trickster and ruining the moment? I shook my head. Y/N, you can’t think like that. As much as Nini can be a little shit sometimes, he’s still your baby brother and you need to be there for him when he gets into trouble with your uniform, fists and powers ready to help him. Grabbing my phone, i ran by the door hoping i would be able to get there in time.

I checked my phone. And then, checked again. No calls or texts from spark boy and most importantly, Hyunjin. I sighed in frustration, am i about to be stood up by my crush in our first time meeting in person? Is it bad that i’m getting ice scream before he shows up? Too many questions, calm down, ok? You’re the city’s biggest hero, you got this. - Hyunjin, Jin, Jinn-i said out loud to myself to distract from my anxiousness as i paid the lady for the ice scream but my line of thoughts were interrupted by well, another voice. A soothing voice. - Genie. Did you call me? You have three wishes. - he replied jokingly with a sweet smile in his lips and holding three fingers up. I just stared at him, amazed, not sure of what to do. It was like an angel had just spoke to me. - W-What? - he asked softly, his cheeks getting red out of embarassment. - Nothing, i just...I can’t believe you’re really here... - I trailed off while hugging him tightly. The way he hunched a bit to put his chin on my shoulder making my heart beat faster inside my chest. Get it together, Y/N. - Wait, - he stood back a little, to look at my face properly - You didn’t think i would leave you hanging, did you? - Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Nothing personal. - i said, trying to laugh it off. - Then you’ve been going out to dates with the wrong guys. If i couldn’t come, i would’ve called you or still had came here to let you know we can’t spend the day togethe- - D-Date? - i gasped quietly but he was still able to hear, his face getting a tad more redder. - Ye-yeah, i mean, if yo-you want to, i’m okay with that with thi-this being a date. Yeah.- he shrugged, looking down while visibly embarassed. - Yeah, i want that. It’s a date then! - i added confidently after he nodded, acting like it was no big deal for me. - Is it okay that i got ice scream without you? Sorry, it’s just that it’s so hot today, i couldn’t help myself. We can go back to the line if you want to! - No, it’s okay. Shall we? - he offered his arm which i accepted, his boyish eye smile making it even harder for me to control the butterflies in my stomach. I was falling for his charms, indeed. After a few minutes walking side by side and commenting on the things we saw on the windows of the stores, i decided i should finally take initiative. - So, what did you do today? Besides coming here, of course. - i asked with an interested smile before turning to my ice scream, the cold on my tongue seeming to help me deal with the hot weather better. God, why is it so hot today? What’s going on with the weather? - I slept really late before waking up and coming here, i almost lost track of the time. - he laughed lightly. - Oh, same. - i replied in a flat tone. Right, cause i totally didn’t take two hours to get ready for Miss ‘I woke up like this’ right here. - Unless for the time part. Did you stay up praticing your moves? - Something physical like that, yeah. - he said, serious. - Did you stay up last night too? - Yeah, actually. - i agreed, regretting instantly. I stayed up all night because Jeongin had trouble sleeping, nightmares which made him cause a blackout in the whole neighbourhood by accident. Me, being the good older sibling, brought him to the energy station of the city and helped him bring all the power back before tucking him into bed and waiting for him to sleep again. If only had it been that easy., tsk tsk. On my way to dragging my sleepy little brother back home, i was met face to face with my arch-enemy straying through the city’s street during the night, his shameless bad-boy persona flirting with me while showing off his dark jacket and threatning to set my shoes on fire making my blood boil again. The reminder that i shot his hand for touching me, leaving a lightburn mark. My brand. - Are you okay? - My date’s voice cut me off. I shook my thoughts away, i already spend too much time thinking about that damned boy who liked setting my life on fire. Sometimes too literally. - Yeah, i just have too much on my mind, i guess. I stayed up most part of the night because my brother couldn’t sleep..I had to hold him until he fell back sleep so he wouldn’t have nightmares. - Oh, i didn’t knew you had a brother! - he looked surprised, rolling his sleeves up while guiding us to sit somewhere more reserved. - He’s not really my brother, he’s like a....consideration brother, if that makes sense. It’s complicated. - In fact, it really isn’t. I really do consider Jeongin my brother, i take care of him at any and all times especially at matters that his parents couldn’t understand, his powers. But i can’t just explain that to any normal person. - I see. I have a brother too, actually. Older. His name is Chan. - he replied brightly. Frostkiller. No. Not every Chan you know is the frosty meanie who happens to be partner with the Scarlet Devil, i’m sure there’s a lot of Chan’s all there, in the world. Far away from here. I smiled back, making him laugh lightly, his eye smile showing up again and making my heart skip beats. He had his chin propped on the palm of his hand, his eyes looking down shyly, his pink lips pressed together in a small smile. - Aren’t you hot? I mean, i feel like i’m melting here even though there’s AC here. I don’t know what’s going on today with the weather. - Oh really? I don’t feel anything, i even thought today was a bit chilly, actually. - What? - i gasped loudly, stretching to touch his forehead with the back of my hand - Are you okay? You aren’t sick, are you? - Don’t. - he stated coldly, closing his hands around my wrist to stop me, his warm fingers digging on my skin. But it was a bit too late, my fingertips touching his forehead already, i flinched taking my hand back, fearing it would burn my skin. - Hyunjin, oh my god! You’re on fire! Aren’t you with fever, shouldn’t we head to a hospita- - No. I’m okay, really. Don’t worry about me, okay? I guess i’m just that hot, pun intended. - he opened a sweet smile, winking - I’m going to buy us something to eat, sit still. - i stared at him, mouth open, still on shock. What does he even mean with ‘i’m okay’? I felt like i just had touched a heated oven or fire. Pure fire. I stared at his back, confused. I have enough experience to know something was definitely up, something not common. My area of expertise. I opened my lips, about to argue back but something caught my eye as i analised his back. Red. I got up from the table, charging at his direction with my fists closed and ready to feed him his own teeth. - What do you want- Oh! - he turned around, his face flushing and his eyes getting a bit bigger because of our proximity. - Give me your hand. - i demanded in a stern manner while stretching out my own hand. - W-What? - he gasped innocently, not affecting me now that i know he’s not so innocent anymore. I pulled on his wrist, turning and examining his forearm and instantly finding exactly what i was looking for. - What’s this? - i questioned, trying to hold back the poison on my tone. He looked down, biting his lips nervously. - Ok, you got me. I stayed up last night cause i was partying with my team colleagues and one of them was so drunk he started playing with fire and i tried helping him before things got worse but he ended setting my sleeve on fire and burning me. I didn’t tell you cause i was scared of what you would think about me, i don’t want you to have the wrong impression. - I bit the inside of cheek, thoughtful. - It doesn’t look like a fire burn though? - he gasped like a fish out of water, i didn’t care about our surroundings and if we looked like a couple arguing, i let his arm go ready to throw my second accusation at him. - What’s this the- Before i could finish and stick my hand behind his back snatch the evidence from his pocket, i was interrupted. Dance the night away, let’s dance the night away! Ooh! I sighed loudly, taking my phone out of my pocket. and turning my back to him. - This is not over yet. - Hey, Y/N. Could you- the voice in the other side of the line said quickly but i cut him off. - No. I’m in the middle of a date as we are speaking, ok? I told you that earlier! I really like this guy and something sketchy came up, i can’t do my light thing right now. - i whispered the last part. -Bu-But, Y/N! - Here we go, the whining - I’m about to have my ass frostbitten! You need to help me! I’m your brother! Are you really just gonna leave your little brother freezing here? - Jeongin whined loudly, hissing noises echoing in the background. I flinched, already picturing the mess on the street with tall buildings half-frozen and snow covering the sidewalks and cars. - Is the grumpy old dude there? - Yes! And very much gladly, Scarlet Devil isn’t here yet. Lucky you. - Can’t you just tell him to calm down? I’m sure he won’t hurt you if you do that, he loves you just as much as he loves his penguins on North Pole. - Very funny, ha. Just come here, you firefly. - Fine! Let me make up an excuse then. - Thank you, Y/N! - he replied in a singing voice. - You own me a pizza. - i said flatly before hanging up. Turning around, my date boy scratched his neck, his cheeks visibly red and hyperventilating. He looked like he would melt away at any moment out of embarassment. - I gotta go. - Yeah, me too. My room mate texted me and he needs help with the, hm, - he coughed before continuing - Caking a bake,i-i mea-an, Baking a cake, yeah.. - Sure. - i nodded at him briefly and in an awkward way before leaving. - Bye. - Wait! - He reached for my arm - I can still text you, right? - he questioned shyly. - Not if you’re gonna keep lying like this to me, Hyunjin. - i see. - he nodded back after giving me a hurt puppy look and letting of of my arm. I felt my heart clench at the sight, i just wanted to hug him and give him a chance to explain himself but i needed to talk with someone first. I gave him a weak smile before going my way, knowing i had broken his heart. Maybe Changbin was right, i had a bad taste on guys.

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amarantine-amirite · 5 years

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November Syndrome

Imagine that you're a freshman. You're away from home for the first time, out from under the thumbs of veganism and expectations for high achievement that were previously foisted upon you. You have no sense of obligation other than avoiding being yelled at by parents and school. No discipline. No idea how to schedule anything. No sense of organization or time management. The only reason you ever got anything done before was because you had been emotionally beaten into submission by your higher-ups.

What happens? You go crazy. End of story. For the first two months, you go to every party and social event on campus, then, come November, you go bonkers over how much work you have to do, but you don't actually do any work. Instead of working, you escape into things like writing fanfiction, playing Fortnite, or something else unrelated to your studies. It's almost like you evolve into a master procrastinator.

Worse, you don’t even notice your lack of discipline until there’s no one saying “no” to every one of your ideas. As a premed, one of the courses I had to take was called "Computer Science for Scientific Applications". It sounded better than it was. It involved having to hand-write code. On top of that, we had to write in pen! It sucked. My handwritten braces looked like sideways boobs. It was just awful. What really sucked was that I write in cursive, so I did my code in cursive. The professor was not pleased when I handed my assignments in. Our assignments were graded based on whether or not they worked. We don't know until we hand anything in if it works. We don't test the code ourselves, he runs it for us. He put our assignments were put through a scanner, and the scans would be put through a piece of software that would convert the text on the image of the page into actual text. The text that it scraped would then be entered into the IDE for the language in question. Usually for freshman computer science, the language was Java, but our steam (recall I was in premed at the time) did Javascript. The only sort of editing that had to be done to the code once it was scanned and in the IDE was typically spacing related/missing character (the software was good but not perfect).

How was your assignment scored? If the code ran, you passed, and if not; you failed. And I failed my assignment (I only did one) because my handwriting always created a ton of problems for the transcription software. It was kind of a weird program. The software had an auto-detect-language-and-translate feature. Sounds cool, but because of my writing, it thought that I was writing in Hindi and it would "auto-translate" my code. Since the translation module for the software was not that good, stuff got mistranslated…a lot. I remember on one of my assignments, I wrote something in the comments and it got garbled into "radish boots". Ever since then, my nickname amongst my friends in CS was Radish Boots. I didn't hand in any more assignments for that class after that.

See, that's how it starts. Something very small, very unexpected like that. That's how you get the idea that your assignments are optional. And that was all it took to turn me into a master procrastinator.

Once I got the idea that assignments were optional, I just really let myself go. Within three weeks, I went from "good student" to "crappy student" to "how the hell did they get into university?" With no actual work weighing me down, I went ahead and participated in every campus social event ever. Paint-your-own flower pot day at the library? I was there! Fitness event? I was there! Halloween party? Take a guess? I kid you not, I was acting like one of those guys in a college movie. Rather than studying, I went to social events. It was great, except for one little thing. Turns out (and I learned this at board game night), people find people who act like they're in college movies really annoying.

Anyway, the incident that happened at board game night was related to something that happened in chemistry. We had one of those semester long group projects where they put you in groups of seven or eight people. One of the people in our group (Anne, I believe it was) was at the event, and she gave me an earful. Not going to lie, she was really mad that I wasn't doing any work. That's bad enough on its own, but she was angrier than I had expected her to be because we lost five people in the group (four of whom died in rapid succession in some bizarro chain reaction):

last Monday, Laura died of obesity related complications

last Tuesday, Alejandro took up jogging to avoid dying like Laura. He got hit by a bus

last Wednesday, Kevin became afraid of the outdoors (thanks to what happened to Alejandro) and sought refuge in playing video games. Come the weekend, he died of a blood clot from playing Starcraft for 62 hours straight

on Sunday, Melissa shunned all technology (because of what happened to Kevin) and went off to rough it in the woods. She died eating poisonous mushrooms

and yesterday, Michiru dropped out because she couldn't handle the pressure of doing the work of the people that died

Now, our group only had two people, and we had to do the work of seven people. Actually, scratch that. Since I wasn't pulling my weight, poor Anne was stuck doing the work of seven people. Understandably, she was fuming with me, and more than a few swear words were uttered. Anne made a point of saying that if I didn't step up in times of crisis, I had no business being a doctor. I would have agreed, but I had my first taste of freedom in my life. There was no one telling me how I had to respond, so I did what people in movies did: I told her to fuck off.

I don't blame Anne for being so ticked with me. After all, she was doing the work of seven people and I was being a coward, hiding behind a mask made out of lies and excuses. No one likes that.

And then, it happened. November rolled around. The amount of stuff that was past due was insane. Seriously! I missed literally every single assignment that wasn't a test (actually, I think I might have missed a couple of tests, too). I made the mistake of buying into the delusion that assignments were optional, and I ended up paying for it.

I needed to get my shit together and do work, but I couldn't. It went beyond lack of discipline. I never built a workflow, and now I couldn't, for it was too late to dig myself out of the hole. And so, instead of doing the work I needed to do, I did a bunch of irrelevant crap. I had run out of time as a procrastinator, but I acted like things were OK. The reality was, they weren't. My situation with school was beyond dire. Worse, I lied to myself about how it wasn't a big deal. Rather than own up to anything, I escaped into a world of playing video games, writing crappy fan fiction, and other bullshit that would in no way help me get on top of school. November called, and I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was stuck where I was.

I know that I sound like I am repeating myself a lot, but I really want to emphasize how I still didn't get my ass in gear even though things had gotten to the point that I really, really had to buckle down and actually do a ton of work to just pass. More specifically, I wanted to emphasize how much stupid fan fiction and creepypasta I read and wrote during that period. I don't know why I gravitated to creepypasta. I think I was trying to hide the fact that I was a coward, afraid to face the consequences of my procrastination. Liking works of fiction involving surreal horror and demented episodes of beloved childhood cartoons somehow must have translated in my mind to not being afraid of anything. Regardless of how the logistics of that excuse supposedly worked, I ended up being a creepypasta addict.

And that bled into my fanfic writing. I know because I tried to write this ridiculous JumpStart fanfic. It was supposed to be a creepypasta/fanfic (like the infamous Cupcakes), but it just came out incredibly stupid. The concept that powered the story was the little animals from the early elementary JumpStart titles (Frankie the dog, Eleanor the elephant, Pierre the polar bear, CJ the frog, etc…) acting like the folks on South Park. For instance, Frankie the Dog was "Kyle", CJ the Frog was "Stan", Eleanor the Elephant was "Cartman" (albeit with a hidden softer side), and I don't remember who was "Kenny" (I think it was Pierre the Polar Bear). Anyway, the actual story was this thing with vampires. The story was that, at some point, Eleanor got bitten by a vampire (and consequently, turned into a vampire). At the same time, Pierre (I think) was in the hospital with some pretty heavy duty muscular dystrophy, and CJ was trying to persuade people to fund stem-cell research in the hopes that they could save Pierre. However; Frankie thought CJ's thing was dumb and said that they could get Eleanor to bite Pierre so he'd turn into a vampire, thereby curing him of his muscular dystrophy. The only problem with that was, well, Pierre would be a vampire. Eleanor ends up being conflicted by the whole thing, and that's the conflict that drives the story.

I remember some time after I posted the first two chapters online wanting to have a twist ending (I'd written about 75% of the story by this time). I didn't know whether I wanted to do "you think it's the future but it's really the past" or "you think it's the past but it's really the future". I guess it didn't matter, because I noticed that I had only two hours left before the submission deadline for my biology term paper. After trying to convince myself that no, I wasn't dreaming this, I wrote the bare minimum of what I needed to write to fit the guidelines for the term paper disclosed on the webpage; then uploaded the results to turnitin.com, fingers crossed that I would at least pass.

Except I didn't. Not only did I not pass the term paper, I didn’t even hand it in. I found out the next day that I had actually uploaded the fourth chapter of my dumb-ass JumpStart fanfiction (and it was a scary chapter too...it was the flashback to when Eleanor gets bitten by the vampire). The prof was not impressed. Let's just leave it at that.

You have no idea how badly I screwed everything up. I managed to get a flat zero in every single course this term. The only exception was CS, where I wound up getting only 2%. Bottom line is that I failed everything. Yes, everything. My only shot at academic redemption is the final exam.

Even still, it might not be enough. As of this writing, I have less than twelve hours before I go in to write the exam. This is bad. I can't sleep even though I'm exhausted. I have to stay up and work. I need to sleep, but I can't. I'm stuck. I've made this bed, and now I'm going to die in it.

No, really. I feel like I'm going to die.

When I first started cramming, I was fine for the first hour and a half. After that, though, I started seeing static in my field of view. The static thing lasted for a couple of hours until it progressed to seeing shadow people. Or, at least I thought they were shadow people. They weren't even remotely humanoid. I was seeing weird, shadowy spider things. They looked like giant tarantulas, all four of them, and they were coming for me. Just before they got me, they vanished.

They were gone. They were 100% all gone. It was like it never happened. No static, no ghost spiders, nothing. Crisis averted. Back to work.

Nope. It's not that simple. The minute I went back to reading the textbook, I could feel my heart race. I tried to highlight stuff and write down key points, but I couldn't, since my right arm is numb. I switch to writing with my other hand, but that doesn't work. I can't write with my other hand too well. Worse, the minute I get the hang of writing with my other hand, I start throwing up like a volcano. After that, it's over. I can't study if I'm throwing up every three minutes. Even if I weren't throwing up the way I am, I wouldn't be able to focus on studying right now. I can barely form coherent sentences, much for your time like to undarastamnd the impotence of teh book biology and chemistry. Chemical biologrehcal flerbut connection ffrhhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

AAAAAAAAAA!

@the-writer-s-hideout

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #creepy #short fiction #drama #short story #original fiction

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lyssacampbell-blog · 6 years

Text

Personal Log: Laethea

I almost didn’t go. No, really. I almost didn’t go on shore leave at all. Everyone on the ship had these stories of perfect beaches and lavish meals and a kilometers long list of other indulgences that would put most other vacation destinations to shame. After the accident it all seemed too decadent, too extravagant. I looked at spas, beachfront huts, and hiking trails but nothing appealed. I just wanted simple. Wholesome. Real.

The first day I just sat in a busy cafe for a few hours. A few Laetheans stopped and chatted but for most of the afternoon and evening I watched life go by. I turned my communicator off for a while and experienced Laethea as it really is: the sights and the smells and the sounds. With the universal translator off, I heard the copious number of fricatives in their language and saw them mirrored in the soft rolls of their hands and fingers Laetheans use to punctuate their speech. I learned the rhythms of their conversation. I heard the dialects of the people raised in different parts of this world. I saw how the muscles of their neck constrict and twist to produce a low-pitched, heady sob of utter despair I initially mistook for laughter.

It was achingly familiar but also thrilling and new. I remembered that this is what I joined starfleet to do. To be in these places. To hear these sounds. To meet these people.

The next day I beamed into the smallest city we were authorized to visit. From there I walked until I reached a nearby village named Troila. An old farming community with a proud heritage that doesn’t appear on any visitor’s guide or tourist’s map, Troila is a central hub for a rural region that still feeds ¼ of the cities on the continent. I found a bench on the edge of the old market square and sat down to wait.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an outsider sitting alone, in a public space, in a small town, must be chatted up by an older member of the community.

Renata sat down beside me less than two hours after I arrived.

We talked amiably for about 20 minutes or so before she turned to me and said, ��A member of my family has lived in Troila for 17 generations. 3 of my children live here, and 5 of my grandchildren, and one great grand-child too. This is my home, but I’m not a fool. There are far more beautiful and exciting places on Laethea to visit. Why did you come here?”

I know better than to lie to a matriarch, so I told her the truth. “A few days ago I nearly killed two of the highest ranking people on my ship in an accident. Two of my friends. I came here because I don’t want to be dazzled by a place everyone visits. I want to visit a place where people live.”

Renata appraised me for a few long moments then asked, “Your ship mates are recovering well?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good” she replied and started to get up, pulling me up beside her. “I’m glad you told me the truth. Now we can go see my granddaughters. Their teacher told them that off worlders never visit Trolia and I’m delighted to be able to prove him wrong.” We had crossed half of the market square when Renata shouted ahead to the young man who had been repairing the wall on the other side of the square. “Dejan! I need you to escort me and my new friend Lyssa to your sister’s house.”

Dejan protested, of course. He pointed out that he was currently working. That the mortar would dry if he left. That his boss could fire him if he left. None of it did him any good. Growing desperate, he made one last ditch effort to continue his work. “Why do you need me to come along Grandma? You’re as clever as they come and can spot a liar at 20 paces. I doubt she’s a trained combat specialist…”

“Well actually,” I interjected, “I have been getting some lessons in hand-to-hand combat recently. Do you fight? Maybe we could spar later?”

Dejan gaped. Renata doubled over laughing and I grinned.

From that moment on, I was family.

Renata’s granddaughters Leanna and Kierae were young - equivalent to terrans at six or eight years old - and beside themselves with glee once Renata introduced me. They asked me question after question on the way to Renata’s house. Tripping over their own tongues (and the pavement) in their haste.

When we arrived they gave me a tour of their grandmother’s house. It bordered the fields and paddies her family had cultivated for generations and was built in the traditional style of the region. It had as many open air rooms as indoor ones and everything was lush and green.

Slowly, more and more family members arrived. The girls were periodically sent on errands to give others a chance to speak and I got drawn into the dinner preparations. One son took me out into the paddy to harvest some grain. One of Dejan’s older sisters belted an apron around me and set me to work chopping greens. I held Renata’s beloved great grandson while his father boiled and stirred and ladled.

At dinner we spoke of everything and nothing. How birthdays are celebrated. Leanna’s school project. The time I tried to keep a squirrel as a secret pet. The history of Laethea. How I got brown hair.

Though I helped prepare dinner, I was strictly forbidden to help clean up afterwards. Instead Leanna and Kierae took me to their secret hideout where they asked me to tell them story after story.

They liked the ones about heros best. So I told them about Beowulf and the time Captain Janeway defeated fear itself and the Laurel crowns that Greeks and Romans gave their best generals to mark their victories.

Leanna fell asleep with her head resting on my shoulder; Kierae with her head in my lap. There was no way to move without waking them so I stopped speaking and waited. I know Dejan was eavesdropping on story time, because almost as soon as I trailed off, he peeked around the corner and, seeing my predicament, returned a few minutes later with their parents who carried them home to bed.

Once the girls were out of earshot, Dejan asked me to tell him more about the laurel crowns. He asked how big the leaves were, about their coloring. I asked him why he was so curious.

“Leanna and Kierae really liked that part of your stories,” he replied. “Leanna gets bullied a lot and I thought maybe having a crown like a victorious general would make her feel strong. I want to try and make one for each of them.”

So that’s what we did.

Renata poured us drinks when we sat down with Dejan’s clay. The drink was thick, syrupy stuff though lightly sweet and I sipped it slowly. The clay was surprisingly light but very stiff and it took a lot of kneading to make it pliant enough to shape. Gods are Dejan’s hands strong. It took him almost no time at all to knead in a deep green dye and when he handed the clay back to me so I could make the first leaf it bent easily under my touch.

Dejan’s family… well familied around us as we sculpted laurel leaves at one end of his grandmother’s kitchen table. As we finished each leaf, we attached it to one of the two wire frames, intermixing his leaves and mine. The first time a lock of my hair fell across my face, I brushed it aside without thinking and left a smudge of clay across my forehead. The second time, Dejan’s hand tucked the errant strand behind my ear, leaving a second streak of green along my cheekbone, over the shell of my ear, and into my hair.

Everyone else had gone to bed by the time we finished. I looked up as I finished what I thought was the last, tiny leaf for the very tip of a wreath to see Dejan sculpting one more.

“Making an extra?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “This one’s for you to take with you”

We’d talked about many things while we were sculpting, but the most interesting was Dejan’s house. He’d recently bought an old, run-down, stone farmhouse on the other side of his family’s farm. It had been abandoned for years, but he was a trained mason so he bought it and poured his heart and soul and sweat into restoring it.

We set the finished wreaths by the stove to dry and then he lead me across the fields and around the paddies to his home. He showed me how the open air spaces were positioned on the east side of the house to keep the rain out and the way that the enclosed rooms were designed to retain their heat in the cooler months.

We hadn’t even finished the tour of the house before he asked me if I’d like to take a shower and get cleaned up. Confused, I insisted I only needed a sink to wash the clay off of my hands and face. Then he showed me his shower.

As it turns out Dejan was right: I did need a shower. Urgently.

Eventually, we got back to touring his house. The tour ended in his bedroom, where a wall of windows faced away from the farm and looked out over wild, uncultivated woods. A flower garden below the widows perfumed the air so strongly it seemed denser. The stream that irrigated the farm, curved around the house and babbled up at us.

The word ‘otherworldly’ fails to capture how comfortable I felt in that space and ‘heavenly’ undermines how real and tangible it felt to lie there in that space with its sounds and smells and sensations.

Hundreds of years ago, farming in this region of Laethea was dangerous work so even extended families gathered together for breakfast each morning in case one of them did not return home that night. This, Dejan explained, was the reason he woke me at an unholy hour of the morning to return to Renata’s for breakfast.

On the plus side, I got to see the joy in Leanna and Kierae’s faces when Dejan showed them their laurel wreaths. They weren’t completely dry yet, but the girls could wear them after school. I got to snuggle Renata’s great grandson one more time too. As we prepared to leave the house I tied my scarf around Renata’s neck. She opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it when she saw the look on my face.

“Thank you,” I said, “for letting me be a part of your family.”

Fittingly enough only Dejan and Renata were still with me as we approached the market square in Troila. A few meters from the square itself Renata mumbled something about needing to visit a sick friend and hating goodbyes. She pulled me into a fierce embrace and then she was gone.

Dejan and I said our goodbyes as we walked over to the wall he’d been working on when I arrived yesterday.

“Well,” he said, “I guess this is it.”

“You really think I’d leave you empty handed?”

“What else could you possibly have to give? You didn’t really bring anything with you.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly why this tradition exists,” I said, handing over a lock of my hair.

“Giving away your hair is traditional?”

“Giving your hair to lovers, yes. It was that or my panties and that’s a little crass - even for me”

Dejan laughed softly, “Leaving undergarments isn’t really your style. I hate to say this, but you better go before you’re late.”

“Ah - about that, “ I replied walking right up to that solid stone wall he’d been building. “Do not tell your grandmother about this part.” I paused and thought for a moment. “Actually, do tell her about this part. She’ll probably love it. Remember last night…”

“Vividly…” Dejan interjected.

“When you asked why my knees were two different colors and I told you about how fell off the transporter pad and bruised one.” I pressed on.

“I do.”

“Well it’s the reason I’m going to make it back to Voyager on time. I have one more catchy Terran saying for you too.”

“Okay…”

“No pain. No gain.” And to accent the ‘pain’ part, I slammed my bruised knee hard into the solid stone wall Dejan built with his strong, skilled hands.

Dejan looked at me like I was nuts as I inhaled sharply and doubled over. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to him so I wasn’t standing on that leg. “Lyssa, what exactly..”

I held up a hand to silence him and tapped my combadge “Campbell to sickbay”

Sickbay here. What seems to be the trouble ensign?

“I hurt my knee Doctor. Banged it on a wall. I don’t think it’ll carry me back to the designated beam out site.

Very well. I’ll authorize a medical beam out, but I have to tell you ensign I’ve already put two other crewmen on report this morning for faking injuries in order to return to Voyager on time. I hope you do not join them.

“I won’t disappoint you Doctor. I fell 3 days ago while fixing the transporters and my knee hasn’t been right since. It has been bothering me all morning. I probably shouldn’t have gone out at all.”

Dejan started to mutter, “All that kneeling you did last night..,” but I clamped a hand over his mouth.

Hmm. You have your authorization Ensign. Are you ready for transport?

“Give me just a second Doc.” I removed my hand from Dejan’s mouth, and kissed him fiercely as I shifted my weight from him to the wall beside us. I murmured “Gotta go” against his lips and shoved him away from me - hard. Dejan stumbled back 2 steps, making space for a clean transport. I tapped my badge, said “Engage Doctor.” and slammed my knee against the wall one more time for good measure before the familiar tingle of transport washed over me.

My knee gave out the moment I rematerialized in sickbay and my full weight landed on it. The Doctor was suitably impressed and almost apologetic.

During the bad times, I’ve often heard one crewman on Voyager remind another that out here we are each other’s family. While I believe that’s true, it still doesn’t feel the same to me. Spending time with a real family; being adopted by them was...nourishing. Rejuvenating. Good for the soul.

Well... family and - how does that saying go? - Sometimes the only way to deal with a problem and move on is a good hard… wall.

#voyager RP #shore leave #Laethea #alien worlds #personal log #my crewmates can't read this

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 7 years

Text

American Ways - Sirius Black x Reader

Request : @claireisreallynotonfire hello my dear!!! could you do a sirius x reader where the reader is a transfer from ilvermorny in like the 6th year and immediately hits it off with the marauders. and sirius is infatuated with her, always calling her pet names, flirting, hugging, and touching and stuff. and reader just thinks it's a joke but one day sirius gets mad bc she's not taking him seriously ( lol pun ) and they end up together bc i really need some fluff with a teaspoon of angst. thanks love Warnings: My English? Language (always lol). Late night, crappy writing. The image isn’t mine. Credits to its original owner. Also, I am so sorry for making you wait this long but the new semester has already taken a toll on me. Word Count: 1848 MASTERLIST Pending Requests

It was one thing being the new student but it was completely another thing being the center of attention. It felt weird and… you kind of felt like you were an exhibit when people would stare or point at you. Yeah, okay, maybe you were the ‘American girl’ and yes, you had an accent and blah blah, but you hoped that after a day or two, they would leave you alone. You were being bombarded with questions about Ilvermorny, about your country, about the male population and so on. Well, that happened until four boys had walked on you and literally grabbed your arms and dragged you all the way to the Gryffindor common room. You were about to protest when you realized that they were doing you a favor. You had grown tired of answering the same questions and being looked at… strangely. So, you never really complained. When they finally let go, you just smiled and greeted them. “Hello, boys. Thanks for the rescue” you simply said. They didn’t expect that-far from it, actually. That’s when you became a ‘gang’ as you named it. They were punks and jerks but they were amazing people and really funny. You had no idea why you hit it off so fast but it felt natural. James was the love-struck one, with his hazel eyes and his messy black hair. Lily-pad, Lily-flower and so on, the poor girl must suffer from those awful nicknames. Remus was the ‘dad’; he was a bit more mature and poised but you could see the mischief in his soft caramel eyes. Peter was the little guy, blushing and being quieter than the others, but he was a Marauder after all. And then, it was Sirius. That guy didn’t know how to talk to a girl without flirting with her. His gray eyes would roam the girl’s body, he would be touchy as fuck when he wanted something, he would use cheesy pickup lines and he would always find a reason to pull off his shirt. He had a nice body, yes, you weren’t blind… you could see it. But it was ridiculous how many times he pulled that damn shirt off. In the brief week, you knew them, it must have been ten times already-and the week wasn’t over yet.

It was official. Sirius Black was the biggest flirt you had ever known. The guy would flirt with you without hesitation, he would call you names, be touchy even clingy. And today was no exception. You were able to stroll around the castle without getting lost like the first weeks. After all, it was almost Christmas. You had to admit that Hogwarts was breathtaking covered in snow. Everything seemed so magical, so serene and so otherworldly. Ilvermorny might held your mind- your friends were there, your ex-boyfriend, your beloved teachers- but Hogwarts stole your heart. You had made more friends than you could believe. Lily was a Muggle-born, as they called them, but she was the brightest witch of her age and uncommonly kind. That last trait seemed to vanish every time James was around, though. She had admitted that she liked him a lot but she could never agree on a date if he was going to ask her three or more times a day. It was infuriating. You had helped James a lot and for that he was grateful. You had told him to leave her be for a while. It was tough for him and you couldn’t help but chuckle every time he opened his mouth only to close it again and walk away. Lily thought it was strange but she missed his crazy ways-and that’s when you played cupid and informed James. And they had the most romantic date ever. Not thanks to him but thanks to you and strangely enough, Sirius. He could be romantic when he wanted to. But that was a very rare sight to witness. Remus was probably the one you were closest with. He was so kind and sweet but he could be cocky and sarcastic that he could out throne Sirius himself. You had put two and two together relatively easy but you didn’t care. If anything, you wanted to help him in any way you could but you were going to let him tell you, whenever he felt like he could trust you enough to do so. You were in the Great Hall, eating breakfast-well, you were drinking a cappuccino(Dumbledore’s courtesy)- with Remus while you were waiting for the other three troublemakers to appear. It was a cold, breezy morning, but it felt so refreshing you didn’t mind wearing two jumpers. It was just a day before the full moon and he was worn out already but he had his nose stuck in a book, nevertheless. You placed a chocolate bar in front of him and he caught the action as he looked worriedly at you. “Eat. You’ll feel better, Moony” you said, emphasizing his nickname. He was smart and he got it immediately. A relaxed smile was plastered onto his lips as he understood that you weren’t going to go anywhere. “Hello, beautiful” a silky voice greeted you. You didn’t really want to admit it but you were smitten. You truly liked him. You liked his steely gray eyes, his aristocratic features, his tousled dark, long locks, his toned torso and his delicate hands. But most importantly, you liked the real him. Not the flirtatious, cocky jerk but the one you had the pleasure of meeting one very cold and lonely night. You couldn’t sleep and you were sitting by the common room’s fireplace. That night you had seen the real Sirius. The one behind the façade and the masks. The one who suffered the effects of insomnia because of his past, the one who was always too scared that he would lose his friends. That Sirius spoke to your heart. And you found yourself falling… hard. “Hello, handsome” you greeted back with a playful smile. That was just his thing. He would flirt with you but you never thought he meant it. Like, how could he? You had accepted the fact that you didn’t really stand a chance with him. He was out of your league. He could have any girl he wanted and of course, you weren’t one of them. He just played with you-not in a bad way, but still. It was just a game. You couldn’t resist, though. You had to play as well. He sat next to you, his hand resting on your knee and his mouth forming a devilish smirk. He kept his eyes fixed on you until you felt uncomfortable. “You’re staring” you commented, hoping that he will stop playing the damn game. “I’m gazing” he retorted nonchalantly, as he drew patterns with his fingers on your thigh. He had to stop. “It’s creepy” you tried to sound stern but you failed miserably. You smiled and shrugged it off as he whispered under his breath, something you couldn’t possibly believe you had heard correctly. “It’s romantic”. Yeah, you had probably heard wrong. You continued ignoring him and his flirty ways for a couple of hours. You had to give it to him. He had upped his game. Today, he was extra touchy, extra flirty, extra huggy, extra clingy, extra… You tried to make it to your next class in time, he had to carry your books. You tried to eat lunch, he had to pile up your plate. You had forgotten your quill, he had to give you his. Somebody tried to flirt with you, he had to smack your bum- that was the final hit. You were alone in the common room, as it was already after midnight, trying to study. James had fallen asleep holding Lily, Peter was all cuddly with Mary and Remus… well, Remus was actually studying. But you didn’t miss the side looks he was giving you. When that guy had come up and told you that you looked very beautiful in that jumper, all hell had broken loose. Sirius marked you- yes, he did- as his when you weren’t and you didn’t even have a chance. Once the guy left and you were among friends, you snapped at him and scowled him, waking up the sleepy heads. “How thick can you get?” you questioned angrily but from the looks of it, he was a bit angrier. He stood up abruptly, while the rest of your friends were trying to pretend that they didn’t exist. “How thick can I get? How dense can you be?” he spat at you, his silver eyes twinkling with madness and… desperation? “You know what? Screw it! I don’t want to play your little games anymore, I am so done. I don’t like that you are making a fool out of me every time you are all flirty when you don’t mean it in the first place” you practically screamed at him. His cheeks were red with anger and his pupils dilatated. “You are crazy! You are insane if you think I just flirt with you so I can play. You are delusional if you believe that I am not absolutely infatuated with you and your American ways. You are just stupid if you think that I am playing. I am so fucking in love with you and it scares the shit out of me because I have never- EVER- fallen in love before and I have no idea how to deal with all those damn butterflies- YES, you gave me butterflies, and my stomach flips every time I see you and I-” You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close, crashing your lips to his with force. He finally shut it. His hands were wrapped around your waist immediately as he deepened the kiss, biting your bottom lip hard, demanding permission to explore your mouth. Exactly before a moan could escape your mouth, people were fake coughing to make you realize that you weren’t alone. You pulled apart but he didn’t let go. “So, you like my American ways?” you asked softly as you made eye contact with him. He smiled brightly yet seductively and he kissed your cheek. “I do. You know what else I like? Your sweet American ass” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, as his hands slipped down to your bum. James laughed but Lily called him a perv. You just blushed but you couldn’t really believe that you had kissed him and that he had never played with you. He was being honest and he was showing you all the affection in the world. You had to make it up to him. “Maybe we can continue in my dorm?” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily, making you chuckle at his childish action, when three, big, fat, loud no’s were heard. You turned and witnessed three frightened faces looking at you with utter terror. You found yourself laughing along with Sirius and Lily. Yes, Hogwarts had stolen your heart for sure. And you couldn’t love it more

tags: @orionsirivsblack @kapolisradomthoughts @nadinissavage

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twinkletoes-rp · 4 years

Text

Naruto AU “Surface Breaker” Ch. 6 - Flower Language

(Can also read on FFN | AO3 | Previous | Next )

It’s over an hour later, nearly two, before Kakashi finally stops crying. Naruto only stopped just before he did.

Kakashi feels…lighter, like he can breathe easier, than he has in years, he’s sure. So many. Maybe since…since he lost them. His heart no longer sends excruciating pain through him every time it beats, reminding him that theirs no longer can. He feels…free. Not entirely, of course—he expects the survivor’s guilt to always be there, at least in some way or form—but…it’s still so much better than he’s felt in…forever. He thinks the last time he felt this unburdened was…back when he was a child with his father alive and well.

It only dawns on him then that he’s still holding Naruto and vice versa. Both of them are much more relaxed now, but their holds on each other are still strong, tight and gentle at once, reluctant to let go and just wanting to be there. It’s nice, honestly. Really nice. They know they can’t stay like that forever, though, no matter how much they might want to, so they finally pull away after a few more seconds, though Naruto, as usual, doesn’t hide his feelings at all on why he does so so slowly. “Your hugs are really nice, sensei…”

Kakashi blinks, heart stuttering while light pink dusts his cheeks. He’s…never been told that before. Then again, the last time he hugged anyone was Kushina and Minato-sensei, and technically, they initiated it. A shy smile comes. “T-thank you, Naruto. And yours…” He softens in remembrance, voice following. He can’t help it. “Yours remind me of your parents’, protective and strong, yet warm and comforting at the same time. Of course, that’s not to say they’re not your own, too.” His smile grows, and the adoration and respect in his voice are practically palpable. “That’s where your love comes in. You have even more love in you than your father. I’d even go as far as to say you overflow with it.” He chuckles. “Not that I’m surprised. You…” He melts, more than he thinks he has in front of anyone in forever, and it surprises him more than a little. He attributes it to how much better he feels. “You are the most loving person I’ve ever met in my life, Naruto. Temari was right when she said you have the power to change people with your open heart and love alone.” Hell, look at how Naruto’s gotten him to open up. No one else has ever been able to do that. Well, no one still alive, anyway. His voice lowers further still, soft and warm and reverent as hell, expression with it. “It’s amazing… It really is.”

Touched tears crowd the corners of a stunned Naruto’s eyes. Shikamaru pressing a tissue into his hand snaps him out of it enough to wipe them away, and then he smiles widely, if shyly, at his sensei, rubbing the back of his head. “I-I don’t know about all that, Kakashi-sensei. I think I just…get lucky, that’s all. But thank you so much.” His grin grows, and he blushes pink. “I’m really happy you think that!”

Shikamaru, watching him with his chin nestled between his knuckles, can’t help but scoff lightly, so fond, he’s actually surprised he held it back this long. “He’s right, ya know,” he chimes in. Naruto looks at him, blinking wide blue eyes while his blush deepens. Shikamaru takes the opportunity to keep going before his friend can deny it again. “You know what it’s like to be without love, without friends or anyone to care for you,” just saying that makes his throat constrict in fury and guilt, “and you don’t want anyone else to ever feel like you did. That’s why you make friends with almost everyone you meet as easily as breathing. It just comes naturally to you to touch people, to change them for the better, even our enemies.” Hell, look at how he’s changed Shikamaru himself over the years. He smiles at Naruto, startlingly fond and admiring as anything. Naruto doesn’t miss it, swallows as his heart pounds in his chest. Shikamaru reaches forward to rap his knuckles there, at his heart, brown eyes never leaving Naruto’s. “You’re one of a kind, Naruto Uzumaki. Don’t forget it.”

Naruto is struck speechless, particularly at those last words, echoes of what he used to say to the villagers as a kid so they wouldn’t forget he existed. Now Shikamaru’s using it on him… He doesn’t miss the significance, doesn’t know how he could. When he finally finds his voice again, thick with emotion, he softens with that same shy smile still playing. “I-I still think you’re giving me way too much credit here,” Shikamaru huffs a laugh and cocks an eyebrow in that way of his that Naruto knows means he can stuff it, “but…” he bumps their fists together, smile growing, “…I’m really happy to hear that, too. Thank you, Shikamaru.” He gives Kakashi a fist bump, too, making him chuckle. “You guys…!” He looks between them, beam and happy flush coming back in full force. “You really are the best!”

Only because you are to us first, they think as one.

On that note, Kakashi takes a breath. “If you’re ready to hear it, now that you know about my old team, I have some final parts to my explanation.” Naruto’s confused, trading a glance with Shikamaru, but he nods and pays rapt attention regardless. “After I lost everything, I felt like I was wandering in darkness for years. If it weren’t for Gai, Asuma, Kurenai, and eventually, you kids, who knows what would have happened to me?” He breathes a wry laugh. “I held on to those bonds like a man drowning, but when I saw Sasuke wanted no part of any new bonds here, he reminded me so much of myself back then that I wanted to be there for him, to try to steer him back toward you and Sakura and the rest…” He sighs a bit, shoulders slumping. “But we all know how that turned out...” He does his best not to blame himself like Naruto asked, but he suspects he’ll always feel at least partially responsible.

Taking another breath and clearing his throat, he keeps going. “On the other side of that, you were so much like Minato-sensei and Obito in so many ways, and the reminders…” he looks away guiltily, “…were too much for me a lot of the time. It’s��it’s why I…wasn’t around while you were growing up, too, never mind that my mental state at the time was…fragile, at best.” These explanations don’t stop him from clenching a fist, angry at himself. “I turned away from you in an effort to escape my own feelings… I was a coward…” he bows his head low, “…and I’m so sorry.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then, “You’re not a coward, sensei.” Kakashi’s ears perk at that, at Naruto’s soft, sort of confused, yet matter-of-fact tone, and he looks up. “Anyone would feel uneasy and scared around someone who reminds them of people they’ve lost. That makes total sense!” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and laughs. “It’s why Sakura and I weren’t the nicest to Sai when he first showed up, remember? ‘Cause he reminded us too much of Sasuke, and we weren’t ready for him to be replaced yet.”

He shrugs. “To be honest, I don’t really see how you could have been there for me growing up. You were probably terrified of being reminded of my Dad and Obito, and the idea of getting attached to me and possibly losing me like everyone else you ever loved?” He’s doing his best to be sensitive about this, he really is, but he can’t help the point he’s making. He huffs a small, incredulous laugh. “Forget it. There was no way.” He locks firm, empathetic eyes on his beloved teacher. “If you ask me, there was nothing cowardly about any of it, Kakashi-sensei. It’s natural, just being human. No one can fault you for that.” He grins, toothy and bright. “Besides, you’re here now, right? So you’re already making up for it!” He chuckles. “Not that there’s actually anything to make up, in my book.”

Kakashi can’t help but stare at Naruto for a few moments, the little tension left in his shoulders easing as a helpless, hopeful smile lights his face. He hopes Kushina and Minato-sensei are watching. Their son… He really is something else. Something incredible. “Thank you, Naruto.”

Naruto just nods. “Of course!” Then, remembering something that’s been bothering him, he perks up a bit. “Oh, and by the way?” He crosses his arms as best he can, his good arm over his chest, at least, cocking his head. “After going through all that, Old Man Third was a jerk for putting a team like ours on your shoulders.” Shikamaru and Kakashi blink wide eyes, the former unable to help sputtering a laugh at his bluntness. Naruto flashes him a tiny smile before going on. “I mean, come on! He knew I was your sensei’s kid and my mom was like your mom, he knew I was a lot like Obito, and he must have known that Sakura had medical ninja potential. Plus, he knew Sasuke was an Uchiha, so he’d also remind you of Obito, and he had to have known how you’d feel about Sasuke’s trauma and the darkness surrounding him. There’s no way he didn’t know all that. And even if he didn’t put together all those things, he knew enough to realize how unfair it would be to you. Hell, he’s lucky it didn’t traumatize you even more.”

He curls his good fist in his hospital gown till his knuckles crack, grinding his teeth. If Lord Third were still around right now, he’d give him a piece of his damn mind. “He could have given our team to anyone, but he gave it to you. I mean, I’m grateful, and I know Sakura is, too, because like I said, you’re the only sensei I’d ever want, but still…” His eyes burn low with righteous fire. “Honestly, Kakashi-sensei, given the circumstances? I think you did the absolute best you could with what you were given. And I think the rest of us turned out great! Sai, too!” He softens. “You’re really amazing, sensei. I know it was hard for you, and I wish it wasn’t, but…” he bows as low as he can, “…thank you so much. For everything.”

Kakashi is surprised to have to swallow a lump in his throat and feel tears burn the back of his eyes. He wonders if he’s a little more emotional than usual because of the circumstances or because of the closure he’s received. Maybe it’s a combination of both. Either way, he reaches out to touch Naruto’s shoulder so he looks up and straightens some, then leans forward slowly to rest his forehead on Naruto’s.

The boy’s eyes widen and he forgets to breathe for a moment, the cool metal of his teacher’s headband making this all the more poignant for him, but then he just smiles and relaxes, following Kakashi in closing his eyes. They stay like that for a moment or two before Kakashi finally whispers, “You’re pretty amazing yourself, Naruto. Thank you, too…so much.”

Naruto’s dinner comes a short time later, and even though he doesn’t really feel like eating, mostly because he knows after that he’ll have to take Granny Tsunade’s sleeping medicine and he still wants to wait for Sakura, he remembers Shikamaru’s advice from yesterday and does what he can. After a few minutes, he goes quiet and eats a little slower as something else that’s been bothering him, something he’s not sure he should talk about, weighs on his mind. His friends notice the change in him, of course, but they don’t say anything. He’ll talk when he’s ready.

About ten minutes later, barely halfway through his meal, Naruto can’t take the uneasy anticipation churning his stomach anymore. He doesn’t want to bring this up, hates that he even has to think about it, but he also feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t. Slowly setting down his chopsticks and wiping his mouth, he gathers his resolve. He’s…not really sure how to approach this, but…he feels like he has to. For them.

“What happened with Rin…and my mom…” he starts at last, coming to rest a hand over his stomach, the Seal drawn there. The thought of something happening to his village, his friends, because of him…it’s always been one of his biggest fears, the stuff of most of his nightmares, and having even more proof that that fear isn’t unfounded…it terrifies him. “It could—happen to me someday, too. It…i-if I weren’t here in the village, and even then, it…it might have already.” His hand shakes, clenches a bit in his hospital gown. “Itachi and that—other Akatsuki guy already came to the village looking for me once, after all.”

Neither Kakashi nor Shikamaru knows where this is going, but they’re listening like their lives depend on it. They know this isn’t the sort of thing Naruto would bring up if it weren’t of utmost importance.

“Shikamaru told me the Nine Tails helped save me after what Sasuke did to me. I—I remember, when it happened, it told me not to give up.” A sardonic laugh leaves him. “Can you believe it? Specifically, it said, ‘Don’t give up, brat!’, but still… It…it still saved me. I know it might have only done it because it had to, because I’m its host, but…I don’t know how to explain it. I…I felt something more there, almost like it…it cared, even just a tiny bit, about what happened to me, I swear…” His gaze drifts to his bandaged hand. “Knowing it killed my parents and remembering how I was treated growing up because of it don’t exactly paint it in the best light, but…” his face scrunches, “…I’m…confused about how to feel about the Nine Tails…”

Kakashi nods, wishing he was at less of a loss here. “With all that, I think anyone would be.”

Shikamaru scratches the back of his head. “That’s an understatement.” He eyes his friend pointedly. “So, what are you thinking, Naruto?”

Naruto purses his lips, then bites the lower one. “I’m…I wanna try talking to the Nine Tails. I’ve done it before, a few times.” A chill goes down his spine at the memories, which makes Shikamaru’s hairs stand on end. He isn’t sure he likes this idea. “I…I want to thank it for helping me, but…mostly, it’s because there are some things about it saving me that don’t make sense. I’m hoping…maybe…we can work something out. It could…take a while, maybe a long time. Months or years. Hell, it might not work at all. But if it does, maybe we could even become…allies or something. Close to it, anyway. I don’t know…”

The two at his side blink. He wants…to make friends with—with the Nine-Tailed Fox…? They’re not…quite sure what to say to that… After a few more shocked seconds, Shikamaru recovers first. “Okay… I admit, I have questions and concerns, but they can wait.” His eyes narrow. “You haven’t told us why yet.”

Blue eyes fall at his scrutinizing gaze. “I…well…” He curls his hospital gown tighter in his fist, skin crawling and stomach sloshing again at the idea of telling them. He knew he’d have to, it just…still feels so sudden… He doesn’t feel ready. His voice follows his eyes. “You won’t…like it…”

The two geniuses trade a look instantly. “Tell us anyway,” they say in unison, doing their best to mentally prepare themselves for, well, what could be just about anything.

Of course, nothing could have prepared them for what he actually says.

Naruto takes a deep breath, then looks up at them both, eyes fierce and bright and bold. They don’t think they’ve ever seen him this serious. “I’ve lost control of the Nine Tails a few times already. Not completely, but close enough that I lost my sense of self and things got bad. You and Pervy Sage managed to intervene those times, sensei. I know he’s the one who warned you about it and gave you the sealing tag that helped stop me on our mission to rescue Gaara.” Kakashi nods. Shikamaru doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but he can ask Kakashi to fill him in later.

Naruto has to visibly steel himself before he says this next part, taking another deep, shaky breath. The room seems to drop several degrees at once while his eyes are set ablaze. “If it happens again and I lose control completely…if there really is no way for you to get me back…” his lips tremble, but he forces his way through, “…I need you to take me out.”

“Absolutely not.”

Shikamaru’s response is an immediate snarl, teeth bared, brown eyes alight with white-hot fire. Naruto blinks. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so pissed off and defiant. Not since Asuma’s death, anyway. He doesn’t know, maybe this outclasses that, considering Naruto’s still alive and Shikamaru’s fighting to keep him that way.

“Shikamaru’s right, Naruto,” Kakashi says, much more calmly, glancing at Shikamaru, but there’s some steel backing his words, too. He refuses to lose another loved one to a Tailed Beast. “We’ll find another way. It doesn’t mean you have to die.”

“You can’t honestly think we’d just let you go that easily! Do you really think so little of us, of yourself, that you’d rather die than let us try?” Shikamaru presses, grinding his teeth at the very thought, mostly in an effort to keep back the bile threatening at the base of his throat. He can’t even think beyond the fact that Naruto is a complete idiot to ask this of them or he really might be sick. He can’t. There’s no way in hell.

Naruto’s eyes widen, and he reels back as if struck, hurt blooming in his chest as he blinks in confusion. “W-what? N-no! No, I—I just—if you can’t get me back, if there is no other way, you might not have a choice! I’m—I’m trying to prepare you for that!”

Shikamaru opens his mouth to fire back, hackles effectively raised at the very notion of losing Naruto for good, especially to something that’s not his fault, has never been his choice, of having to do so by his own hands—but Kakashi holds up a hand, black eye stern. Grudgingly, the younger man swallows his words and defers to his superior, though he defiantly takes tight hold of Naruto’s hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Naruto. More than anyone else ever could, I do,” Kakashi reassures. He doesn’t want him to think he’s alone in this. After all, Rin asked the same thing of him when he was much younger. The last thing he wants is for this to become a repeat of that. “But I need you to tell us exactly what you’re thinking. Maybe there’s something you haven’t thought of yet.”

Naruto raises a skeptical eyebrow, but Shikamaru squeezes his hand again, silently begging, and he sighs. “Back when…Pervy Sage and I were training, at one point, he wanted to try to help me control the Nine Tails’ chakra. It…” his eyes fall to his bandages, face crumples, and he holds Shikamaru’s hand a little tighter for purchase, “…it went bad, and…I leveled an entire building, the yard around it, a huge part of the forest. I…I hurt him…” He swallows. “When I woke up, we were both really badly hurt and recovering in the hospital…”

He knows he probably shouldn’t, knows Pervy Sage held no fear or ill will toward him at all afterward, but he still feels really guilty for that. He glares at his sheets before peering up at his friends again.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. I never want to kill anyone. If I ever did, even while like that, even if it wasn’t technically my fault…” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and shakes his head vehemently. “Hurting Pervy Sage once was bad enough. If he wasn’t him, I probably would have killed him. That’s how bad it was.” He needs them to understand. This isn’t just something he’s come up with out of the blue. “If it ever happened again, if my Seal broke completely, and there was no one around to stop me like he did, if you or Captain Yamato weren’t here, Kakashi-sensei…” he feels sick at the truth to his words, remembering how much it hurt Pervy Sage just to laugh after that time, “…I-I couldn’t take it.”

He fixes hard, absolutely unyielding eyes on them. It’s scary and hurts like hell to talk about this, but it’s necessary, damn it. He needs to know he’s not going to be a danger to the people he loves. He couldn’t live with himself. “You know me. You know that’s the truth. This isn’t something that’s just come up suddenly either. I’ve—I’ve been thinking about it for years.” Kakashi and Shikamaru’s hearts pang something fierce, devastation clawing at their insides. The younger man barely bites back a curse. Naruto’s eyes smolder, even while his words start to tremble and break. “Please… I’m not kidding around here. I’m—I’m begging you…”

Shikamaru unconsciously squeezes Naruto’s hand tighter, as tightly as he can, not even realizing it might be painful until his friend squeezes back. When he does, he immediately loosens his grip and locks eyes with Naruto, silently apologizing and just trying to communicate how…wrong this feels. He’s the guy who always goes over all the angles, every possibility, but right now, that can all go to hell. Why are they even discussing this? Like hell they’ll ever let that happen. Shikamaru will die first, and he already knows Kakashi feels the exact same way. The others, too, any of them.

Naruto’s way out… It’s not an option.

Not one he’ll accept, anyway.

Shikamaru looks to Kakashi next, taking a deep, if shaky, breath. He knows he’s usually not as emotional a thinker as all this, and yeah, okay, realistically, he knows why they’re having this conversation. Naruto’s not an idiot, after all. The only way he’d ever propose something like this is if he were dead serious, if he really had been thinking about it for years, maybe since Master Jiraiya was hurt.

To be honest, he’s not really sure what has him so worked up about this. Yes, Naruto’s his friend, he loves him, he would fight and die any second of any day from now till the end of time to protect him, and he’s had an idea forming in his head about staying by his side for a good half-year now, maybe longer…but still… Maybe it’s the thought of losing someone so close to him again. He doesn’t know if he can take another Asuma. That’s why he’s…he needs Kakashi-sensei to temper his upset and ground him right now. His hold on Naruto’s hand tightens again, consciously gentler this time.

Kakashi, for his part, is quiet. He’s disturbed by this information, too, deeply so. Not the part about the incident where Master Jiraiya was hurt, that he already knew, but…the fact that Naruto’s been grappling with the reality that his last day could come at any moment, that he’s had something like this weighing on him for years… He wonders if Master Jiraiya knew. Given how close and alike he and Naruto were, he’s guessing so. He wonders if he ever talked to Naruto about it. Hell, maybe…maybe that was one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with Lady Tsunade after he was meant to return from his mission to the Hidden Rain village. It’s a morbid thought, but…it makes sense. Plus, given how similar Naruto and Rin are, how much they love their village and their friends, it also makes sense that Naruto would be willing to make the same sacrifice Rin did, even if he didn’t necessarily want to. Because he knows Naruto doesn’t want to die. He has far too much he wants – needs – to live for…

But like Shikamaru said…that almost makes it worse…

And yet, despite any reservations or misgivings he and Shikamaru may have…this isn’t about them. At the end of the day, this is about Naruto. He comes first.

That’s why he finally takes a breath and says, “Let me talk to Captain Yamato and Lady Tsunade about this first. Then, we can think up a game plan. Between the three of us—and Shikamaru, too, if you’re up for it—” the boy immediately nods, zero hesitation, “—I’m sure we can come up with something that will make you feel safe without giving us early heart attacks.” He reaches out to ruffle his student’s hair gently, though there’s a weight to his hand that Naruto doesn’t miss. He leans into it all the same, actually presses up into it a little insistently, almost like a cat would. A tender smile and chuckle escape as Kakashi obliges, though he turns protective and serious again a moment later. “But no matter what we decide, please know this: your friends and I, your family, will not let you go without the fight of our lives. That’s a promise.”

Naruto’s eyes widen, heart skipping in his chest. Tears sting, but he just sniffs, chokes back a happy sob, and nods, grinning toothily. “R-right…!”

After their talk, Naruto’s appetite is a little better than before, so he eats what he can, and that’s all Shikamaru can ask. He refuses his sleeping medicine afterward, though, wanting to wait for Sakura, just in case, and Shikamaru agrees on the condition that he take it once visiting hours are over at the latest. Naruto’s more grateful than he can say, though he’s pretty sure Shikamaru understands with how bright and fond his smile is. He’ll take it.

By the time Sakura’s presence actually registers in the tree outside Naruto’s room and then the girl herself appears at the foot of Naruto’s bed, it’s well after dark. She’s breathing hard and sweating. She must have run the whole way in her rush to make it in time. The flowers in her arms don’t escape Shikamaru’s notice. So that’s where she’s been.

“You know it’s after visiting hours, don’t you?”

Sakura jumps at the sudden voice, though she’s not surprised when she turns toward it to see Shikamaru still sitting vigil by a sleeping Naruto’s side, glaring with arms crossed over his chest. Kakashi’s still here, too, leaning against the wall across from them, just silently observing for now.

“Technically, Hokage’s student or not, if I were to sound the alarm, you’d be thrown out.” There’s flaying ice in his tone, not that she can blame him. Honestly, he’s being nicer than she expected, than she thinks she deserves. She’s sure he’d agree. “I’m sure you’re also well aware that there are shadows all around you. So tread carefully.” She knows what that means: I won’t hesitate.

Effectively chagrined, she winces, gaze slipping to the side. “I know…” she acknowledges softly. “But I couldn’t go home without making this right. Or at least…” she lifts the flowers in her hands for emphasis, “…apologizing, if he lets me. I’m…” her grip on the flowers tightens some, doubt dragging down her expression, “…not sure he’ll actually want to see me, though…”

Sighing roughly, Shikamaru lets one of his arms fall between his knees as he leans on them. This girl’s just lucky she’s Ino’s best friend and one of Naruto’s, and that whether she deserves to be the latter isn’t for him to decide. “Oh, he wants to see you, all right. He made me wait until visiting hours were over to take his sleeping meds, and even then, he was really bummed when you didn’t show up. He wanted to wait a little longer, but I reminded him he promised, and, well,” he shrugs, something in it and the way he looks at her unrepentantly sharp and jagged, “you know how he is about promises.”

Sakura flinches at that, but…he’s not wrong. She deserves that. Much worse, actually. Frankly, she’s surprised he’s letting her anywhere near Naruto at all. He’s probably only going along with it because he wants to put Naruto’s feelings before his own. Ino was right. A guarding shadow-lion, indeed. Swallowing, she holds the flowers for Naruto a little tighter and nods. “You don’t…have to worry about me anymore. I…I get it now. I’ve been horrible to him…and I know it shouldn’t have taken something like this to understand just how badly I screwed up, but...” she bows as low as she can, “…I really am sorry.” Her green eyes are full of fire when they climb back up. “And I’m ready now, I swear. I’m ready to let Sasuke go and do whatever it takes to make it up to Naruto. All of it, no matter how long it takes. I don’t care.”

Shikamaru regards her quietly for a few good, long seconds. He freely admits he’s partly doing it to make her squirm. It’s the least she deserves after what she pulled. He’ll have to thank Ino for talking (and, knowing her, smacking) some sense into her later. He can feel Kakashi’s calm, steady gaze on him, waiting to see what’ll happen from here. In the end, he sighs again, gentler this time, and levels with her. “Naruto’s done his part to make this as easy for you as he can, Sakura. Now you have to do yours.”

Giving that a moment or two to sink in, he slowly sits back in his chair and crosses his arms again, nodding toward Naruto. “He’ll probably be a little groggy, but we just gave him his meds about ten minutes ago, so he shouldn’t be too hard to wake up. Don’t know if he’ll be able to stay awake, though, unless you can temporarily slow the effects or something. Of course, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that, being a medical ninja and all.” He shrugs.

She nods, taking that as the permission to come closer she knows it is. “I can. Slow his medication, I mean.” Making sure she has his okay to do this, too, she hesitates before reaching over to let her hand glow green over Naruto’s chest for a few seconds. She stays standing after pulling back, though, and she’s worried about shaking him awake after earlier, even carefully, so Shikamaru does it for her.

“Hey, Naruto.” The younger boy whines a bit, and Shikamaru can’t help but snicker. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Sakura’s here.”

Sakura’s name makes it through his formerly-medicated haze, and Naruto’s eyelids flutter open just seconds later. “Wha…? S-Sakura…?” he asks, raspy and slow and dragged out by a yawn as he rubs at his eyes.

A tiny smile tries to sneak onto her face, but she’s not sure she should let it. She can barely make herself look at him right now. “R-right here, Naruto…” she announces softly.

Shikamaru helps him sit up, and when Naruto sees it really is her, he seems surprised to see her for a few ticks before he grins brightly, sweetly, like he never lost faith in her for a second. “I told ‘em you’d be back!”

Sakura, forgetting to breathe for a moment, can’t help it when she laughs and touched tears sting her eyes. Wiping at them with the back of her hand, she shakes her head, the smile on her face growing. “I-I really don’t deserve you, you know that?”

She has a feeling that if Naruto weren’t here or at least awake, Shikamaru and maybe even Kakashi-sensei would have something to say in agreement with that, but as it is, they hold their tongues. She appreciates it. Naruto, for his part, blinks wide eyes and flushes, waving his hand in front of him in embarrassment. “W-whoa, wait, what? W-where’d that come from, Sakura? That’s not true at all!”

Her smile turning small and sad, she steps forward to set the flowers Ino picked out for them both on his bedside table. “Yes, it is.” Whether he’s in denial or, more likely, genuinely doesn’t see it that way, she knows she’s right, no matter how much she wishes she wasn’t. Her gaze comes back to his. “You’ve always been there for me, no matter what. You’ve never raised a hand against me, even when you could and should have. You always do everything in your power to protect me. You cheer me up any way you can, and you always keep your promises, even ones that only ever get you hurt—”

Her voice breaks off in a sob here, and a few tears fall. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised. She is something of a crybaby, after all. “Y-you’ve never left my side, all this time, and I—I realized I’ve been taking you for—for granted…e-ever since we were kids…” She sniffs and swallows back the rest of her tears. She doesn’t want to cry through this. “You shouldn't even be letting me see you after what I did, let alone talk to you. You definitely shouldn't forgive me. I don’t deserve it, so I wouldn’t blame you at all.”

She wants to smack some sense into her younger self, feels nauseous at just how ignorant and plain awful she’s been. Realistically, despite Ino and now Shikamaru’s reassurances…she doesn’t know for sure if she and Naruto can fix this. She wants to, and she meant it when she said she was willing to put in the work, but…their relationship was pretty broken right from the start, all because of her. Like she said, she wouldn’t blame Naruto if he came to that conclusion himself and wanted nothing to do with her anymore.

She bows as low as she can—hell, she gets down on her knees and lets her forehead touch the floor. Ino did say she had to grovel, after all. Whether she meant it literally or not doesn’t matter to her right now, and that’s not why she’s doing this anyway. She’s doing this because it’s what Naruto deserves. He deserves way more than anything she’s given thus far, and from now on, she’s going to make sure he gets it. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For tonight and everything else. I know this doesn’t make up for any of it, but…I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying!”

Naruto, for his part, is left reeling, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest. He wants to say something, anything, at least get her off the damn floor because it’s killing him to see her like this. He wishes his legs were in better shape so he could get down there with her. There’s no way he can reach her from here either. Frowning in distress, he instantly turns to his friend. “S-Shikamaru, help me out here!”

Already figuring what he wants, Shikamaru easily slides off his chair to a crouch in front of Sakura without protest. “Sheesh…” He gently takes her small hand and deposits it in Naruto’s waiting one, the blond immediately encasing it in his strong grip. Sakura finally lifts her head, surprised, and Shikamaru pokes her forehead. She blinks, and he finally smiles at her, tilting his head. “Don’t be so dramatic.” Her eyes follow him as he moves back to his seat. “You know, Asuma used to tell us that the closer you get to something, the tougher it is to see it,” he eyes her pointedly here, “so never take it for granted.”

It takes Sakura a second to understand his meaning, but when it hits her, she doesn't know how she didn't see it before. She took Naruto for granted, and she and Naruto were so close to Sasuke that they couldn’t see how unhealthy their relationships with him were. She gets it now. This is Shikamaru’s way of saying their slate’s clean as long as she really does make it up to Naruto from here on out. Swallowing, she nods imperceptibly to show she understands. Shikamaru smirks, satisfied. Good. She’s learning.

Getting to her feet, she wipes her eyes and face with her free hand before turning back to Naruto. She points at him with a stern expression. “I’m serious about letting me make it up to you, okay? I won't accept any other way of fixing this!”

Naruto blinks, but seeing he doesn't have anything to counter that with, he smiles shyly, wondering what she might have cooking up in that big brain of hers. “W-well, okay...but you don't have to go all out or anything, all right? It's just me.” His grin turns toothy as he chuckles. “It's not like I'm exactly hard to please.”

Despite himself, Shikamaru can't help snorting and chiming in, “Yeah! You could probably just stuff his apartment full of instant ramen, and he'd call it even!”

Naruto’s joining laugh is raucous and bright. “Hey, you're not wrong!” Looking back at Sakura, he softens and squeezes her hand, sad and happy at once. “Look… This whole thing – letting Sasuke go, and looking at our relationships with him and each other and realizing things weren’t what we thought – has been a long time coming. I think we both know that now. It was bound to be emotional and scary, and I’m sorry if I went about telling you what I decided the wrong way.” He chuckles. “‘Course, I’m not really sure there’s a good way to bring up something like that, you know?” Sakura breathes a tiny, relieved sob of a laugh despite herself and nods. That’s very true. Kakashi marvels at how much he sounds like Kushina.

Naruto strokes the back of her hand with a gentle thumb and melts. “I accept your apology, and even if you say I shouldn’t, I do forgive you. I understand why you hit me,” he rubs a finger along the bridge of his nose, only to hiss and pull back when it hurts; right, right, broken, “even if that doesn’t make it okay or right.” She winces and nods, and he squeezes her hand again, then threads his fingers securely through hers. “We’re good, okay? I’ll let you make it up to me whatever way you want, but nothing’s changed between us. You’re still one of my best friends. Nothing’s been done that can’t be fixed. Okay?”

Sakura beams, squeezing his hand as tears sting her eyes. She feels almost lightheaded with relief. “Thank you, Naruto!” Leaning forward slowly, making sure he’s okay with her being this close to him after before, she hugs him carefully and presses a kiss to his cheek. A bright blush paints his face instantly, and her smile only grows. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I promise I’ll be worthy of that someday.”

She can tell he wants to protest that last part, but he stops when she makes to reach toward his face. Remembering how he flinched away from her before, she stops, too. Swallowing, mint eyes find sky. Sensing the gravitas in her, Naruto just waits for her to say what she needs.

"Would you...could...my first step be...healing your nose?"

Beside them, Shikamaru stiffens the tiniest bit despite himself. Her tone is soft and low, nervous and guilty, but full of conviction, body language the same. There’s no trace of the rage or blame from before. He thinks Naruto will be safe this time, but he also remembers how Naruto freaked earlier. All the same, he glances over at Naruto. In the end, it's his decision.

The blond meets his eyes, and after seeing that Shikamaru’s feelings match his own, he slowly nods. He knows this isn’t like before, and this is his way of showing her that he still trusts her. He meant it when he said that that wasn’t going to change over something like this. Not for him, at least. He hopes this will also help her trust herself again. He smiles. “Yes, please.”

Sakura is thankful as all hell, shoulders giving way beneath her relief as she sighs and beams like the sun. "Thank you!"

His nose is fixed in record time, not that he expected any less. He takes a deep breath through it and laughs out loud in delight, throwing his good arm in the air. “All right! Good as new!” He grins widely. “Thanks, Sakura!”

She scoffs and waves a hand dismissively, meaning it for once. “D-don’t thank me! It’s the least I could do!” Honestly, she wishes she could do more. Perking up when she remembers something, she snaps her fingers. “Oh! That reminds me!” Grabbing his vase from the bedside table, she hands it to him. “These are for you!”

“Wow…!” Naruto gasps, lighting up like a kid on Christmas at the sight of the pretty bouquet. “They’re for me? Really?” He takes the vase with careful fingers. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, especially not Ino’s!” He chuckles delightedly. “They’re beautiful! Thank you, Sakura!”

He pats the bed beside him, and she slowly sits down, a warm, grateful thrill going through her. This is another way he’s showing he still trusts her. There’s no way she’s going to waste it. “Ino sent them with me after spending forever picking them out and making them look perfect. She was so happy and relieved to hear you were finally awake and doing well. I’m sure she’ll be by to see you as soon as she can.”

Naruto admires all the different flowers, smile growing. “That was so nice of her! If you see her before I do, tell her thanks so much for me! I don’t know much about flowers, but these are so pretty!” He bounces a bit in his seat, like he’s been given the most special gift in the world. “She’s the best!”

Sakura softens. He’s not wrong about that. She really is. “I will, don’t worry.”

Beside them, Shikamaru can’t help but laugh. He finds Naruto’s reaction sweet, honestly. Expected, knowing him. “Ino didn’t tell you what the flowers meant, though, did she?” Sakura shakes her head. He smirks. “Figures.” Sitting back in his chair, he points them out one by one. “The Blue Salvia means she’s thinking of you, the Pink Rose means joy, the Dwarf Sunflower’s adoration, the Morning Glory’s affection, the Amaryllis’ pride, the Yellow Tulip means there’s sunshine in your smile, the Bluebell’s loyalty, the Geranium means true friendship, the Edelweiss is courage and devotion, the Lotus means enlightenment and rebirth, the Chamomile means patience in adversity, the Larkspur means remember to have fun, the White Hyacinth means she’s praying for your recovery, the White Carnation’s good luck, the Valerian means she’s ready and waiting if you need her, the Honeysuckle means bonds of love, and the Peony means she’s wishing you a happy life.”

“Wow…! How’d ya know all that, Shikamaru?” Naruto asks, amazed and impressed.

He shrugs. “When you have the daughter of florists for a teammate, you tend to pick things up between the girl talk, you know?”

Naruto laughs. “Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Looking back at the flowers, something catches the brunet’s eye. “Hey, look. There’s a tag, too.”

Sakura tilts her head. “There is? Huh. I never noticed her writing one.”

Shikamaru reaches in to pull it out. “It says, ‘Get well really soon, you ramen-loving knucklehead! Love, The Konoha 11.’” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Typicao Ino.”

Naruto rubs the back of his head and chuckles, impressed as hell. “No wonder it took Ino so long to get those flowers ready. That’s a lot of different meanings, and she even included a nice card, too!” He beams, feeling giddy and important. “I feel so special!”

Sakura, Shikamaru, and Kakashi soften. Because you are, Naruto.

Unable to help noticing the other flowers on his bedside table, Naruto can’t help but ask, intrigued now, “Whose flowers are those, Sakura? Are you visiting someone else, too?”

Looking over to see what he’s talking about, Sakura remembers and flushes a bit. Grabbing them, she explains, “O-oh, no! Ino handed me these right before I left. She said they’re for me.”

Taking a look himself, Shikamaru does a double-take before he just barely smothers a wheezing laugh. The others look at him, confused, and he waves a hand. “S-sorry, sorry,” he says. He is so going to laugh his head off once he’s alone! This is too good! Ino is the best, he swears! “I-I’m guessing Ino didn’t tell you what those meant either, huh?” His smirk only grows when she shakes her head again. “W-well, sorry to disappoint, but I’d rather not repeat those particular insults in current pleasant company. Man, you must have really pissed her off.”

Sakura is shocked for a moment or two, Naruto, too, but then she laughs sheepishly and deflates. “That’s fair… I deserve that…”

Naruto opens his mouth to protest, but Shikamaru holds up a hand to stop him. A gentle smile comes to his face, and he points out three flowers in the very middle of the bunch. He knows for a fact Ino put them there on purpose. “This White Tulip means forgiveness, this Daffodil means new beginnings, and this Bell Peony means good luck and best wishes.”

Sakura brightens back up with a joyful, relieved smile, like a flower blooming after it’s rained. Her teacher and friends are glad to see it. “Then I won’t let her message go to waste!”

They talk for a while longer before Sakura starts nodding off. Her first instinct is to fight it like she has every other time in the last few weeks, but...she stops. Naruto’s awake and here with her, Kakashi-sensei and Shikamaru, too. They’re close and warm and safe. Something tells her she won’t have to worry about nightmares while they’re around. Making sure to undo the impediment she put on his sleeping medicine first, though it won’t take effect for a few minutes, no one is really surprised when she does fall asleep, head resting on the bed at Naruto’s side. Naruto just softens, tender fingers stroking her hair. “We should let her sleep,” he whispers, “since she hasn’t been getting much lately.”

Kakashi nods in agreement. He’s still so proud and thankful everything turned out so well with his kids. Thank goodness. “That’s probably a good idea. She seems a lot more at ease sleeping here than at home, at least from what her parents told me. I know you’ve probably been wondering what Pakkun and I were talking about earlier, after he brought her in.” Naruto nods, and Kakashi sighs a bit. “Mostly, it was just an update on what I already told you, but this time, it seems she hasn’t slept in at least three days. The nightmares got too bad, so she fought her body’s need to sleep like it was the only thing keeping her going.” He watches her closely, voice lowering. “No sleep was preferable to what she faced when she closed her eyes.”

Naruto eyes her anxiously. Did she not tell him how bad the nightmares were because she didn’t want him to worry? Was it a pride thing? Did she just not think about it—not want to think about it?

“But,” Naruto looks back up at the smile in his sensei’s voice, and he doesn’t miss the way he’s watching their resident medic with hope in his eye, “now that she’s got her head and heart sorted on Sasuke and she knows you’re okay, Naruto, it seems her fear of sleep has faded. For the moment, at least. Let’s hope it lasts.”

Naruto smiles. There’s a thoughtful beat of silence, and then,

“She’s already totally out. If we try to take her home, she’ll just wake up again,” Shikamaru cautions.

Kakashi pushes off the wall to come closer. “That was my thought, too. So…” Crouching down, he ever so carefully picks Sakura up and lays her on the bed beside Naruto.

Said boy jerks away instantly, as far away as he can, face going bright red. The pain from the sharp movement doesn’t even register. “K-K-K-Kakashi-sensei! What the hell are you doing?!” he hisses, scandalized. He shakes his head vehemently and points at his teacher. “Y-you can’t just put a—a girl in my bed! Especially not S-Sakura!” His voice turns to a whine. “She’ll totally kill me when she wakes up, and it’s not even my fault!”

Kakashi chuckles, and Shikamaru can’t help but do the same. They always figured Naruto was a gentleman, at least for the most part (any student of Master Jiraiya would have to be a bit of a philanderer, at least; it was practically part of the job description), but seeing it is honestly adorable. Kakashi waves calming hands. “Now, now, just listen for a second. Like Shikamaru said, if we move her, she’ll wake up, and she might not sleep well once she’s home, if at all. But if she stays here with you, I’ll bet she’ll sleep like a baby.” Naruto, uncurling a bit as his teacher’s explanation sinks in, doesn’t even realize that he’s getting close to Sakura again. Kakashi, though, does, and he also sees something else that makes his smile grow. “Case in point.”

Following his gaze, Naruto’s eyes widen as he sucks in a breath and turns even redder. Sakura, curling into his side, rests her head on his chest, right over his racing heart. He gulps and doesn’t dare breathe. His warmth and heartbeat in her ear just seem to comfort her, though, even send her into a deeper, more restful sleep, and Naruto releases his breath painfully slowly. “All—all right, but…” he points warningly at his sensei, “…if she wants to kill me when she wakes up, I’m siccing her on you.”

Kakashi, for one, prays that doesn’t happen. Her strength is genuinely terrifying… “F-fair enough…”

That settled, Naruto can feel his sleeping meds kicking back in, so he pulls the blanket up around Sakura and wraps an arm feather-lightly around her shoulders. She curls into him a little more at that, and he can’t help smiling shyly through his blush this time. Her warmth is comforting to him, too. He yawns then, and his eyes move between his friends, lids drooping. “Night, Shikamaru… Night, Kakashi-sensei…” He yawns again, eyes finally closing while his fingers play with the ends of Sakura’s hair. “Love you…”

He’s out like a light.

The two left awake look at each other and can’t help but laugh again. Their number one knuckleheaded ninja really is cute as hell. Not wanting to wake them, they stand silent vigil in case of any nightmares.

Once half an hour’s passed, Kakashi walks over to Naruto’s other side to card his fingers through his hair. Just like Minato’s… He wanted to wait to make sure his kids would be all right before heading home, and now that he is, he thinks he’ll take his leave. Today’s been exhausting for a good many reasons, and honestly, it’s been a long few weeks for him, too.

But before that…

He glances up to see Shikamaru watching Naruto thoughtfully, and the older man can’t help but finally say something that’s been on his mind for years, even more the last six months, and especially the past thirteen days.

“You’re good for him. The way he looks at you… You’re good at grounding him – keeping him on his toes, but not slapping him in the face with harsh reality either. It’s a good balance, not unlike your cloud-watching habits.”

Shikamaru regards him quietly, eyebrow raised, for a good few moments. “That might be the weirdest connection I’ve ever heard,” he finally returns, chuckling, his gaze falling back to Naruto as his smile turns warm and grateful, “but I’m glad, too. I want to be there for this knucklehead…” his voice lowers, “…no matter what it takes.” There’s undeniable conviction in every note, and Kakashi knows he means every one. “I’m glad you approve,” he tells him, coming back for a moment; he keeps his stare clean and certain, “not that it would make any difference if you didn’t, for the record. I’m here for him. That’s all.”

Kakashi laughs. “That’s about what I expected from you.” He softens. “I know you’ll be good to him, and that’s all I want. So, thank you.”

Shikamaru smiles helplessly and shakes his head. “Don’t thank me.” The fondness he fixes Naruto with here is something Kakashi thinks will stay with him forever. He prays Minato and Kushina are watching. They’ll want to see just how loved their boy really is. “He’s the sun, after all. The shadows were bound to be drawn in at some point.”

Kakashi blinks. Quietly poetic when he wants to be, isn’t he? He just grins, melting when his own gaze drifts back to Naruto. Shadows, indeed…

“Truer words, Shikamaru. Truer words.”

#Naruto #Naruto AU #Naruto fanfiction #Naruto Uzumaki #Sakura Haruno #Any feedback is much appreciated #Feel free to reblog #(For the record Obito STAYS DEAD in this AU. He died that day on the Kannabi Bridge mission. If you wanna know why I detailed it in #my bottom FFN/AO3 Notes!)#(Sorry so tired don't feel like writing it all out LMAO)

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catholiccom-blog · 7 years

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A Word That Every Catholic Needs to Know

This year marks the twentieth anniversary of my wife and I entering the Catholic Church from Evangelicalism. My upbringing skewed strongly the Fundamentalist end of the spectrum, while hers was more mainstream-Evangelical. Both of us were graduates of Evangelical Bible colleges, so we had a fairly in-depth understanding and experience of American Evangelicalism, which is a complicated and even bewildering world of numerous denominations, para-church organizations, and movements.

My interest in apologetics started when I read works by C.S. Lewis, whop played a significant role in our journey into the Church. Like so many other Evangelicals who “poped,” I worked through a wide range of questions about Mary, the Saints, authority, the sacraments, purgatory, and Tradition. In fact, the very first article I ever had published was a detailed account of that search and study for This Rock magazine, titled “Joining the Unsaved” (June, 1998). The experience could be likened to being dropped into a huge and exotic forest and spending countless hours studying the flora and fauna, trying to grasp the curious and often surprising details found therein.

During that time, I ended up writing a lengthy letter to my parents. In a way, it was like sending them a box with samples from the forest, with a mixture of tree leaves, flowers, and rocks. A few years later, when I re-read the letter, I saw that my explanation of Catholicism, while still quite correct and on point—and there were many points—lacked a sense of the big picture. Although I was able to defend against the negative stereotypes and false concepts which good people like my parents were tossing at me, I did not and I could not provide a positive, succinct picture of the essence of Catholicism.

Something was missing

This sense of incompleteness was especially strong when it came to the Church’s teaching about salvation. I knew the Church did not teach that our works alone save us, but I also knew that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). How so? I understood the importance of the sacraments; it was, after all, the reality of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist that drew my wife and I so powerfully to the Church. But how did that fit into the bigger picture of the forest of Catholicism, to continue the analogy? In what way could the forest be brought into focus and best understood?

The answer is theosis. It is also known as deification, divinization, participation, and divine sonship. The essence of Christianity and the gospel is that the triune God, who is perfect communion, “in a plan of sheer goodness freely created man to make him share in his own blessed life” (CCC 1). The Father desires to gift us with his actual life and make us, through the Son and in the power of the Holy Spirit, true children of God. “See what great love the Father has lavished on us,” states St. John, “that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1).

Now, as a young Evangelical Protestant I never questioned the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation—but I also rarely contemplated in depth what those two great Mysteries had to do with me. Sure, I knew God created me. Check. I accepted that God became man. Check. But these were more points of doctrine than realities to be contemplated, considered, pondered, and explored. And, to be both fair and blunt, that says more about my own personal failings than it does of failings in Evangelical theology. When I finally began to grasp the startling truth of theosis, I began to understand and see the details of the forest in an even more vibrant and life-changing way.

Considering this, how do essential but often overlooked truths—the subject of a detailed book that I co-edited with Fr. David Meconi, S.J.—help the apologist? Here are three basic ways:

1. Personal relationship

Most Fundamentalists and many Evangelicals see Catholicism as a religious system based on works, ritual, and “doing stuff.” What they don’t see, first, is that they themselves—for all the talk of a “personal relationship” with Christ—actively take part in a system based on works, ritual, and “doing stuff.” After all, they insist on the necessity of going to church, participating in some form of communal worship, doing good works, and so forth.

The heart of Catholicism is having a personal relationship with Christ. Yes, there is a lot of debate over whether or not Catholics should use such language, but to me it’s quite simple: the triune God, who is Creator of all, is perfect communion and love. He is relationship. And Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, is one of three divine persons. So, yes, having a personal relationship with each person of the Trinity\ is the very essence of being a Catholic:

“O blessed light, O Trinity and first Unity!” God is eternal blessedness, undying life, unfading light. God is love: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God freely wills to communicate the glory of his blessed life. Such is the "plan of his loving kindness", conceived by the Father before the foundation of the world, in his beloved Son: "He destined us in love to be his sons" and "to be conformed to the image of his Son", through "the spirit of sonship". (CCC 257)

2. Rules, rules, rules?

Catholicism, being deeply communal, familial, and covenantal, is never satisfied by a mere legal or juridical understanding of salvation. The irony is that some Fundamentalists and Evangelicals insist that salvation is juridical and reflects a sort of divine courtroom, denouncing Catholicism for being impersonal and devoid of relationship. That’s absurd. As Catholics, we always understand that laws and rules are rooted in the familial, communal nature of God, as they orient us toward our final beatitude, by God’s grace.

3. The reality of grace

The biggest divide between Catholics and many Protestants is the nature of grace. “Grace,” as the Catechism so succinctly states, “is a participation in the life of God. It introduces us into the intimacy of Trinitarian life” (CCC 1997). This is why Catholics can say that the sacraments aren’t just symbols, but signs that really accomplish, by the power of God’s grace, what they signify. We insist that we don’t receive bread at Holy Communion, but the very body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ.

Because we are filled, animated, and joined by the trinitarian life of God, we participate in the heavenly realities, being truly part of Christ’s body—not just in a metaphorical sense, but in a way that is truly real.

If we are really “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet. 1:4), then our deeds are not the works of slaves trying to impress a master, but the joyful works of sons and daughters on behalf our Father, joined to Christ our Savior, aided by the Holy Spirit our advocate. Catholicism, then, is not a religion of “works righteousness” but of righteous, holy children, growing even more righteous and holy as we continue to conform to the will and way of God. Understanding this theosis as deeply biblical and traditional view of the dense forest of doctrine and spirituality should guide the apologist in debates and conversations.

#Catholic Answers #CAMO #Carl Olson #Faith and Works #Evangelization

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pvcked · 5 years

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“ oh, darlin’. ” darby shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “ don’t make me use this stick on something other than the puck. ”

or, alternatively : ‘tis i, linc, back at it with my second !! say hello to darby belle montpellier, varsity womens’ hockey team captain & songwriter/frontwoman of west ham’s own folk-soul band, pelagia. !! hit that read more to learn more about this southern belle .

[ d a r b y b e l l e –– M A N I C P I X I E D R E A M G I R L .

✔ ┊❝ ( natalia dyer. 18. she/her &. cisfemale ) rumor around town is that darby belle montpellier was on one of the buses that left for the field trip. they’re the eighteen year old that resides in new ham. over the summer news spread that she prayed to make a deal with the devil to bring her mother and father back to life, but suspects something may have gone amiss when laying out the terms, but who knows if that’s true or not? what we do know is that their friends describe them as saccharine & virtuosic, but who knows when they’re known to be diaphanous & dewy-eyed from time to time.

( &&. general information )

full name: darby belle rose montpellier

nickname(s) or alias: darby belle, darby, dee, belle, db ( by her teammates ), puck ( by her late father only )

preferred name: darby belle. belle’s not a middle name; it’s part of her first! but she won’t correct you! darby’ll do just fine.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: pisces

gender: cisfemale

preferred pronouns: she/her

sexual preference: bisexual

romantic preference: biromantic

home environment: a modest two-story condominium, owned by her older sister, elody mae. they’ve lived in the same condo since moving to west ham in the summer of 2014, following their father’s untimely passing. they originally hail from small-town tennessee, so their condo took a while to acquire the typical connecticut aesthetic. darby belle’s hockey and speed skating trophies are displayed proudly in the front foyer. their kitchen displays elody mae’s art, and features lots of succulents and small-scale flowers. darby’s room doubles as a music space, so her guitar, banjo, and piano line the far wall. a secondhand drumset sits in the corner for when her band convenes there, or when she goes ahead to demo entire songs herself.

current occupation: student, student athlete, musician.

language(s) spoken: english, enough spanish to get by ( acquired from high school classes, but her southern accent kinda bleeds through? so kids in class always kinda smirk when she tries out the speaking exercises ).

native language: english.

current relationship status: happily in a long term relationship with clark, @wildguard .

( &&. background )

reason behind name: darby belle was named after a beloved family dog who was tragically killed by an automobile the night before she was born. how... quaint. her mother insisted on adding “belle” to match her older sister, elody mae’s, “name flow”. her father never really approved, but he his second army deployment began just before her birth, so her mother went ahead and did it anyway.

birth order: second ( and youngest ). her older sister and current guardian, elody mae, was born 7 years prior.

ethnicity: american. the montpellier family had strong roots in small-town jonesborough, tennessee. people always speculate there’s some french in their bloodline, way back, but they don’t speak it now.

nationality: american.

religion ( tw: death, suicide ): it’s complicated. she was raised christian. went to weekly sermons. sang in the church choir. but after her mother died in the housefire that nearly wiped out the entire family when darby was 6, she began to... question. if god were real, why would he let bad things happen to good people? her father returned from afghanistan in 2007 and seeing him struggle with ptsd despite her persistent prayer contributed to her doubt. he took his own life in march 2014, the day before darby’s 13th birthday. from that point on, her view on religion became pretty tumultuous. believing there’s nothing out there makes her anxious. but believing in a higher power makes her angry. she still struggles to reconcile her relationship with god, and wonders if she’ll ever be able to. moving to west ham offered a new start, and she’d always yearned to get out of jonesborough –– she just never thought losing her father would wind up being the way so-called-god would choose to make it happen.

political views: fairly moderate. can agree with liberals and conservatives on different issues, but mainly toes the midline. maybe a bit more left than right. she’s... not that keen on discussing all of that stuff. she never got to come out to her mother or her father, so it’s all very... touchy.

financial status: comfortable, but by no means as affluent as the rest of west ham. she and her sister live off of their inheritance and their father’s life insurance policy. but elody mae is intent on using it as minimally as possible, so they live modestly. their condo is adorable, and offers just enough space for the two of them, plus occasional guests. they eat well, but smart. elody mae’s income as a local commissioned artist and interior decorator isn’t colossal, but it’s enough to avoid skimming much from the inheritance. that’s the only money they’ve got for darby’s college. but she’s fielding several hockey scholarship offers, so hopefully tuition won’t even be an issue.

hometown: jonesborough, tennessee. yes, she has the accent. you don’t have to tell her it’s adorable –– she already knows.

level of education: high school senior. darby does well in school. she’s no ap student, but she’s got brain cells and knows how to use ‘em. she often chooses to forego studying to create new music, and between pelagia. & the varsity girls hockey team, she doesn’t have much spare time for homework. she’s in a lot of teachers’ good graces, so they let it slide, for the most part. this past year, her grades have slipped a bit –– she’s just got other priorities. catch her drawing music staffs and notes in her biology notes instead of copying down cell structures. scribbling lyrics in the margins of her in-class essays. she’s a dreamer.

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): natalia dyer. for now, with mid-length brown, curly hair. i’d like there to be a point where she impulse decides to cut and dye it platinum blonde... so maybe we could plot that out, somehow. like a brittany 2007 moment. a nervous break.

height: 5′0. she’s tiny. nobody expected her to be the rumored hockey legend transferring to west ham high her freshman year. but there she was, a zippy right wing on the ice. her speed’s uncanny. her agility’s surreal.

weight: 108 lbs. fuckin’ protect her.

shoe size: 6

figure/build: very, very thin. surprisingly muscular, though. not built like a typical hockey player but boy, does she command the ice. her strength, like... bewilders everyone. recruiters came to see her play this spring and fuckin’ lost their shit. this girl ?! captain ?! right wing ?! does she disintegrate when she’s checked ?!?!

hair colour: light brown.

hair length: down to her shoulders. curly.

eye colour: aqua blue.

glasses?: no, but she does own zenni optical glasses for the computer.

skin tone: light, some faint freckles that intensify with sun exposure.

tattoos: none. she’s gotten into actual fist fights on the ice before. but needles? scary stuff. she’ll pass.

piercings: she has her ears pierced, but rarely wears earrings, since they’re prohibited on the ice.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: some burn scars from the housefire that killed her mom in 2007, on the back of her left forearm/wrist and across her stomach. she’s really insecure about them and almost always wears long sleeves because of it. she also has a birthmark shaped like canada on the arch of her left foot. when they were alive and darby was very young, her parents used to joke that god put that mark there because he knew their daughter was going to be a hockey star.

dominant hand: right-handed, hence she plays right wing. but she prefers to cut food with her left.

if painted, what color are their nails?: she keeps her nails very short, and they’re usually painted neutral shades: gray, pink, nude. she’s recently gotten into a forest green phase.

usual style of clothing: long sleeve sweaters, jeans, vans. graphic long-sleeve tees –– she really likes the nature designs on patagonia ones, or cool/eclectic designs. converse. timberlands, leggings, and oversized sweatshirts. denim jackets. in the winter, she’s always bundled up because she runs cold. honestly? she’d sooner wear a hoodie and shorts in the summer than throw on a t-shirt. she does wear short sleeves, but mainly for team workouts and runs.

frequently worn jewelry: she wears her father’s wedding band around her neck on a thin gold chain, always tucked under whatever top she’s wearing. her sister does the same with her mother’s.

describe their voice, what accent?: she’s got a very soft voice. light tennessee accent. when she sings, it’s got this delicious rasp and rawness to it. i’ll post a spotify playlist soon with the vibe –– but think molly burch, tomtsu, julien baker, mothers, angel olsen, and you’re on the right track.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: darby’s laugh sounds kind of like breeze-rustled leaves and cotton-candied skies: light, melodic, buoyant. she speaks quietly, for the most part, but that shouldn’t be mistaken for complacency. she speaks slow, deliberate. her words matter. she’ll speak quicker when she’s mid-laugh, or when she’s intoxicated. when she’s angry, she’s more likely to bite her tongue and stare. her doe-eyes speak leagues. on the ice, her dialogue’s punchy, gutteral. she calls out plays and opposing teams are flabbergasted that such a strong sound can come out of such a small frame.

describe their scent: vanilla, lavender, eucalyptus. she dabs a few drops of essential oils on instead of perfume. she’ll really only wear a marketed fragrance after practice or games –– and then it’s dolce & gabbana, light blue.

describe their posture: darby holds herself with a silencing kind of grace –– she glides through rooms. her chest is always open, collarbones broad. she has a great deal of strength in her legs and in her stride, but the way she carries herself resonates more like a dancer or figure skater than a hockey player. on the ice, she’s all forward momentum and down-striked strides, whipping around and coming at opponents with a vengeance.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?: no, she never got her license! her sister will typically drop and pick her up from events, or she’ll carpool. in terms of arriving for the trip, she walked across town, since they got into an argument about the letters her father left –– elody mae had them locked away in a bank safebox, and hasn’t let her younger sister read them.

have they ever been arrested?: no. honestly, could anyone arrest this sweet cupcake? her bandmates have gotten busted for shoplifting snacks high before, but darby’s always been able to sweet-talk them out of punishment. too bad they’re not around to steal her pretzel sticks now. not that stealing is necessarily still a crime...

do they have a criminal record?: no. squeaky clean. she respects authority, almost too much. so this new ham situation... it’s going to throw her for a loop.

have they committed any violent crimes?: not if you don’t count breaking an amherst high girl’s nose during a fist fight on the ice. she called one of her teammates something terrible, so... the bitch had it comin’.

property crimes?: no.

traffic crimes?: no opportunity to! unless west ham suddenly persecutes for jaywalking down empty roads in the wee horus of the morning.

other crimes?: not yet.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: b positive.

date/time of birth: march 18. 1:42pm. the only labor nurse on duty had to put down her bologna sandwich to assist in the birth. on a potato roll! she complimented darby’s mother at the end: “congrats on the bologna. i mean –– baby.”

place of birth: franklin woods community hospital, jonesborough, tennessee.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: female

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?: no / yes / pain pills. more than she should. shhhhh.

addictions: pretzel sticks. she’s gone days without real meals because she’s just been munchin’ on those things.

allergies: strawberries. peanuts. bees. good luck surviving in new ham, gurl. hope no one poisons ya!

ever broken a bone?: her left clavicle in pee wee hockey, 2005. fractured wrist from getting checked, 2009. right ankle, mid-game pileup, 2015 –– still scored, though! three broken ribs from a particularly gnarly check ( three girls v. one ), 2018.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: insomnia, since her mother’s death. worsened with her father’s passing. i imagine it’ll get worse with her sister disappearing, too. her mild dependency on painkillers.

any medication regularly taken: leftover meds from her injuries. it started with the pills she found in her dad’s medicine cabinet, after his passing. it’s not... bad. yet. it’s harmless.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them: UNO. DOS ( her chillin’ with her athlete broskis. ) TRES ( her babysitting ) . “ honey, you got a big storm comin’. ”

positive traits: tenderhearted, saccharine, strong-willed, musically inclined.

negative traits: diaphanous, dewy-eyed, easily manipulated ( somebody break her ).

likes: underdog succulents: the ugly ones people tend to walk past. late nights spent mixing new tunes. singing along to the radio, rewriting top 40 songs to sound more interesting. performing at small local gigs with pelagia. ; the cacophonous beauty of each soundcheck before doors open. the scrape of metal on freshly smoothed ice. the feel of her favorite hockey stick in her hands. taped fingers. narrowed eyes. confused gasps as she whizzes past bigger players, barely detected. pulling long sweater sleeves over her hands. finger-picking her acoustic guitar. clark beecher. singing stevie nix in the shower obnoxiously loud, just to aggravate her sister. coconut macarons, fresh from the oven. pretzel sticks. blue gatorade. toe-tapping in the locker room between periods, to her pumped up playlist. texting silly pickup lines to her friends. trading cute little jingles for rides around town. petrichor. sunflowers. bees ( from a distance ). worms, insects, dirt. she loves cupping her hands around beetles and showing them around the place like they might stay a while.

dislikes: being cold. birds. crows, specifically –– they ripped a bag of pretzels right out of her hands, once. unsweetened coffee. sore losers. waking up, and the momentary serenity before her life story locks back into place. the smell of smoke. fires. paying $20/month for her father’s inactive cell line –– they have yet to deactivate it. knowing that the last thing she ever said texted him was, “ can you bring a gatorade to the game tomorrow? yellow kind. thx. ” thx. text talk. :-) . smiley faces with noses: only her dad was allowed to use that kind. drew barrymore. short sleeves. high heels. remembering.

strengths: darby belle has the capacity to be compassionate toward anyone. almost to a fault; it’s been exploited before and i doubt those times’ll be the last. great texter. she can channel such wild doses of emotion into her music –– take away the lyrics and you’ve still got such magic. add the words back in, and it’ll do an even better job of wreckin’ ya. she manages to befriend a wide variety of people: because of her band, she’s mixed up with some eclectic folks. her role as varsity captain makes her accessible for most of the school’s athletes. i like to think she’s down with the bros? isn’t afraid to play-fight, mess about. despite all she’s been through, this girl’s got a real knack for life.

weaknesses: yearns for stability, but the world’s kind of delivered that a bit late. prone to rampant reminiscence. sells her soul to her passions, so other obligations fall to the wayside. still can’t figure out snapchat. will defend her teammates ‘til the cows come home, and that’s gotten her injured on the ice before. kind of cultivating a dependence on painkillers. can’t hide when she’s teary-eyed. can’t hide emotions at all. when she falls in love, she falls h a r d . and when others feel something for her, she often lacks the ability to see it. short-tempered with her sister. lets anxieties fester and build up until she lashes out at someone ( usually her sister ) . stutters when angry, sometimes, so will often avoid the issue or just stay silent about it. prone to heartbreak.

insecurities: what if she could have done something to save her mom? her dad? what if this is all some kind of punishment for her religious doubts? is god laughing down at her? does he even exist? maybe we’re all just living on borrowed time.

fears/phobias: snakes. being stung by a bee. never being loved / never having the wherewithal to find it. not getting a hockey scholarship. emptying the medicine cabinet. not being able to call her dad’s cell to hear his voice. losing elody mae. losing everyone.

habits: tapping her fingers on flat surfaces. skipping meals when she’s stressed. texting thumbs-up emojis to avoid having to give an actual answer to “ how are you? ” . masking darker thoughts with game suggestions and silly jokes. deflection. wearing her father’s old army tees to bed, and sniffing them each time as if the laundered clothing might still hold onto even just a whiff of his cologne. falling for the wrong people. believing. letting her nail polish chip and chip and chip until all that’s left is a silhouette of pigment. biting her nails. midnight runs. pressing leaves into notebooks to capture moments for which she lacks the words. over-gifting outside her means, arguing with her sister about it later.

quirks: bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth when she’s thinking. squints directly at the sun despite being scolded for it for years. latches on to friends’ arms as if the universe might tug them apart at any moment, and navigating the school parking lot is exhaustively complex –– like she might get lost; like she might lose them. calling instead of texting. sniffing peanut butter: she can’t eat it, but she loves how it smells. sleeping all curled up in a ball, on her left side, with the blankets tugged up tight against her chin. wearing beanies and baseball caps indoors. waking up early enough for church each sunday: getting dressed, beginning the walk across town, only to turn back halfway. running drills at the rink instead of attending lunch hour. jotting down lyrics on standardized tests. humming in school stairwells, when she thinks she’s alone. tapping her locker dial three times with her index finger before putting in her combo. wriggles her nose when she’s trying not to laugh. gaze always, always drifting to the nearest window. funky patterned socks. she has a pair with picasso.

hobbies: hockey. guitar, banjo, piano, drums. singing. songwriting. running, weightlifting. elody mae tried to get her into yoga, but her headspace is far too cluttered. making late-night ice cream runs to the local parlor, because she knows the owner and he’s always ready to give her a free scoop.

guilty pleasure: the chainsmokers. they’re shit songwriters, but their songs are vibey –– if you tell anyone she told you this, she’ll hit you with her hockey stick.

desires: to get out of west ham in one piece. to find some kind of meaning. to feel something more, or less, or different than what she feels now.

wishes: she could have told her parents who she really is. her father could have seen her bring the west ham womens’ hockey team to the regional finals four years in a row. she wishes she could apologize to her father for not being enough to make him stay.

secrets: she stole her father’s dog tags and told her sister he must have pitched ‘em. she keeps them under her pillow. she’s never felt a love as strong as her songs might suggest. she’s popping pain pills to cope with things besides hockey injuries.

turn ons: soft smiles. hand holding. shared gummy candies. someone who can watch hockey with her and not get bored. fake wrestling. dimples. silly face tournaments.

turn offs: prying. counting on fingers. preoccupations with time. disliking vegetables. top 40 pop. people who won’t admit they’re afraid of the dark.

lucky number: 4. ( her jersey number, as per request. what her family used to be. )

pet peeves: squeaky shoes. mic feedback. dull skates. vanilla shakes that taste like nothing. crunchy cookies. stale pretzels. people who make fun of her laugh ( sometimes she snorts ).

their motto: “ hockey is figure skating in a war zone. ” –– her father.

( &&. favourites )

food: pretzel sticks. sometimes dipped in chocolate.

drink: water! or yellow gatorade.

fast food restaurant: she misses bojangles.

flavour: vanilla.

word: perseverance.

colour: army green.

clothing: though she doesn’t wear it a lot, she loves her hockey jacket. but it comes second to one of her dad’s deep blue sweaters –– it fits her almost comically oversized, and it almost, almost feels like his arms around her.

accessory: her father’s wedding band, secured around her kneck with a thin gold chain. or her hats: she loves beanies and baseball caps.

candle scent: she doesn’t fuck with candles. open flame. but eucalyptus, lavender, and peppermint make for a great diffuser blend.

game: hockey. ( jk, y’all already knew that! ) she gets a kick out of go fish. really! and pick-up football.

animal: any kind of insect, especially fireflies.

holiday: new year’s eve. she loves getting to blow party kazoos in everyone’s faces.

weather: breezy, sunny mornings, when the dew’s still clinging to glistening blades of grass.

season: mid-spring, after the rain, but before the blossoms finish opening. it’s beautiful. and she doesn’t have to worry about bees.

book: twenty-thousand leagues under the sea by jules verne. her father used to read it to her at night, chapter by chapter. it inspired her band name: pelagia . it means the open sea.

artist: elody mae montpellier. she’s biased.

band/group: cigarettes after sex, stevie nix, amy winehouse, the band camino, car seat headrest, lany, daniel caesar, jeremy zucker. the beatles. the beach boys ( her dad loved them ).

song: don’t dream it’s over, crowded house.

movie/film: the wedding date. she’s a sucker for those stupid rom-coms. the mighty ducks. slap shot.

tv show: she grew up watching bob ross specials with her sister.

sport: hockey. speed-skating, for a brief time, when she was in elementary school.

possession: her father’s dog tags. her lucky puck ( he gave it to her after her first ever hockey game, complete with a heart and smiley face carved into the side ).

number: 4.

person: clark beecher. but she’ll tell you she doesn’t believe in favorites.

( &&. skills )

talents: musicianship. performing. songwriting. agile skating. playmaking. interpretive dancing. making her friends laugh. going cross-eyed for long periods of time. rolling her tongue.

ability to drive a car?: no. not legally. or well.

can they ride a bike?: no. her parents never taught her.

do they play any sports?: hockey. pick-up football games with her pals.

anything they’re bad at?: meditating. lying. makeup –– she doesn’t really wear any.

do they have any combat training? why?: yes, some self defense moves her father taught her before her first day of middle school. “ to keep those rotten boys away from ya, puck. ”

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: her mother spilling roasted carrots and potatoes all over the kitchen floor. little darby belle watched from her high chair and laughed. her ma probably made a joke about confetti.

crush: lenny hawthorne, in preschool. the teacher handed out strawberries to the class and he volunteered to be her protector.

email address: [email protected]

job: ice cream scooper. learn-to-skate instructor.

phone: a trackphone, shared with elody mae.

kiss: kitty hawthorne. seventh grade. because she said lenny wanted to learn if darby was a good kisser before he kissed her himself, and “ same blood means it doesn’t really count. ” it counted.

love: clark. she gets starry-eyed just thinkin’ about him. her beautiful curly-haired doofus. she’s lucky.

sexual experience: with lenny hawthorne a few weeks after the kiss with his twin sister, kitty. only, throughout the entire time, darby belle caught herself wishing the lips against hers were a bit softer, and still tasted like grape chapstick.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?: it’s hard to pick one. she never really had a time in which both of parents were there with her, and choosing one? feels wrong. choosing any feels wrong. she likes when they were both alive. all of that time qualifies.

worst childhood memory? (tw: death, suicide) : 2007: waking up to the smell of smoke and a red-orange flickering light in the hallway. waking up in the hospital to the news her mother didn’t make it. 2014: returning home from the game her father was supposed to bring gatorade to. finding him in their living room, slumped on the floor.

what were they like as a child?: darby was always bright-eyed and sociable. she rarely began conversation, but she’d inititate the precursor to it, running up to strangers, beaming at other kids in the park. it took a while for her to learn how to be aggressive on the ice: she didn’t want to be mean! her mother facilitated most of that –– “ your daddy’s a soldier, darby belle, don’t you forget that. ”

any crushes growing up?: a few. she probably would’ve had more, if she’d spent less time on the ice. or thinking about the ice. or using hockey as a way to avoid confronting her demons.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?: frugal, but not inexpensive. a good middle ground.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygenic.

open-minded or close-minded?: open, about most things.

introvert or extrovert?: extrovert, but prone to retreating into her thoughts.

optimistic or pessimistic?: optimistic, outwardly. sometimes it lapses to pessimism, but her natural disposition is peaceful –– so she can be angry and upset and unsettled, but eventually has to find some kind of way to mediate it.

daredevil or cautious?: cautious, to an extent. ( let’s change that. )

logical or emotional?: emotional.

generous or stingy?: generous.

polite or rude?: polite to most, even when undeserved. on the ice? she can be a menace.

book smart or street smart?: street smart. she’s not not book smart, but her intelligence is definitely channeled more through the game and through music.

popular or loner?: popular. darby’s a crowdpleaser. she ebbs and flows from sphere to sphere without much trouble. she fears being alone, and often prefers to have people around –– watch her struggle with having an empty home... yikes.

leader or follower?: leader. she’s hockey captain, after all. but she is quite impressionable, so others have a large impact on how she leads.

day or night person?: day. but she’s most creative at night.

cat or dog person?: dog person, 100%. won’t hate on cats, but dogs love more openly. and she was named after a beloved childhood pet of her mother’s, so... maybe there’s some kind of soul connection there.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?: c l o s e d . and barricaded.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to all. briefly including tinder, at a hockey slumber party freshman year.

if so; name on facebook: darby belle. ( she leaves out her surname, because people never pronounce it right anyway. )

instagram user: officialdarbybelle

snapchat user: puckyouverymuch

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: waiting for you –– tomtsu. ( but it’s also canon her song... yep i did that. )

makes them sad: our day will come –– amy winehouse. her mother used to cook to it in the background and serenade the ingredients. ave maria –– her father always used to beg her to sing it at christmas time, at their baby grand.

makes them dance: blame it on a dream –– vhs collection. it has vintage vibes. she can swivel her hips to this.

loves the most: old fashioned –– bruno major. it makes her cells thrum in the most delightful way.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?: yeah.

are they a virgin?: no.

describe their signature: neat spirals. looks a lot like calligraphy.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?: she’d be the unlikely underdog to come out on top.

do they travel?: not really. the only travel she’s ever done has been for hockey games and tournaments, or the big move from tennessee to connecticut.

one place they would like to live: ontario. it looks so calm.

one place they would like to visit: los angeles. she feels like she’d fit right in. and their hockey mojo’s great right now.

celebrity crush: torey krug, bruins defenseman. & matty healy. what a dreamboat.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: chapstick, spare stick tape, spearmint breathmints. pictures of her parents, folded up and hidden behind a few miscellaneous receipts.

place(s) your character can always be found: on the ice. in her bedroom, making music. the local coffee shop open mic night. the grocery store, struggling on her tippy-toes to reach the jumbo bag of munchie mix. running in the park, or all around town. playing pick-up games on the school green.

when does your character like to wake up?: 4:45am. to fit in a morning workout before school.

what’s your character’s morning routine?: scrunch up her face and pull the blankets tighter, in denial that her alarm’s actually going off. rolling out of bed to switch the buzzer off. stretches. change into running clothes. a few loops around the neighborhood, then outdoor HIIT intervals, weather permitting. shower. throw on a long-sleeve, leggings, and her boots. grab a pop tart for the car ride to school and listen to elody mae scold her about a well-rounded breakfast the whole drive there.

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?: when elody mae cooks, darby eats well –– lots of pinterest recipes and plant-based meals. left to her own devices, she reverts to ease: poptarts, protein bars, almonds. sunflower butter and jam sandwiches. she typically skips lunch at school to write, or free skate, or sneak into the weight room with whatever team’s rented it out that period.

how does your character spend their free days?: jamming with her bandmates or on her own. playing gigs or open mics. going for long runs. hiking, in bee-free zones. goofing off with her pals, road tripping to random landmarks around connecticut. going on art supply runs with her sister, sometimes helping her set up her booth at the local farmers’ market on saturday mornings.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?: night run, bodyweight workout. stretches. some songwriting or listening to in-progress tracks. texting her friends. tossing and turning. sometimes falling asleep successfully. sometimes popping a pill or two to make it happen.

what does your character wear to bed?: comfy shorts and a sports bra. she likes to load up on the quilts.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: her parents. her father. if there’s a god. if there’s really... anything. lyrics. her friends. clark. she’ll usually text him into the wee hours of the morning, if he’s up.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?: getting her parents back. unattainable.

on what occasions do they lie?: almost never. she really can’t do it successfully!

most marked characteristic: her eyes, her stature, her smile. her stupid canada birthmark on her foot.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?: find some way to compensate for whatever left her dad still wanting –– enough to leave.

how would they like to die?: happy. she realizes the irony, given her definition of it.

do they snore? nope!

can they curl their tongue?: yes! and she can also do that clover thing.

can they whistle?: most of the time. it’s kind of a gamble.

** do they believe in the supernatural?: does she believe in anything? she’ll get back to you on that. but uh... she tried to reason with satan to rescue her parents from wherever they wound up after their deaths .... and suspects something might have gone wrong. did she cause this whole trip situation? was this her? does she believe in all that religious stuff still anyway? uhhhhhhh....... she’ll also get back to you on that, too.

has anyone ever broken their heart?: she’s been heartbroken, non-romantically. romantically? not yet.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?: yes. and probably without knowing it.

are they squeamish?: not at all. except around bees, or allergens.

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?: she’s seen people d e a d . but never in the act of.

are they a lightweight?: y e s !! it’s hilarious. you wanna know a secret? do ya?? you sure?? are you positive? okay, okay. she’ll take a breath, tryin’ not to giggle too much in between words. “ one time, in ninth grade, mr. hot sexy math man –– mr. keebler, yeah –– asked me out to dinner. would ya believe that ? ” she’ll dissolve into a fit of melodic laughter and knock back the rest of her second drink. yeah. it be like that.

#newhamhq:intro #🥀 –– i don't like myself when i'm awake ! isms.#this is so LONG but .... a comprehensive view of darby belle for ya #let's plot all the things !!#death tw #suicide tw

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