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uwua3 · 3 years

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price of being a dad.

🍁💸 furuichi sakyo

summary: you may not have a birth father, but you do have a family.

warnings: abandonment issues, abuse (mentions), angst with happy ending, birthday, daddy/parental issues, food

author’s note: for everyone who grew up with no father figure in their life, a dad who didn’t do shit, or a man who never loved them, this is for you ♡ sakyo loves you! (reminder this is a completely platonic/fatherly figure one shot)

word count: 2,859

music: since the day i was born – lostcrowboy

You wished your father loved you.

Maybe, you stay up late into the night, staring up at the ceiling, wondering why he left. Why did he selfishly pack up and go forever? How come he didn’t want to play the role of your father anymore when you needed him most, sobbing and begging for a second chance even if it wasn’t your fault? Or on the other hand, you may be hiding away in your bedroom, shaking and asking why he stayed. Why would he abuse the entire family with his violent, aggressive presence? How did he have the nerve to put a picture–perfect front in the public with the sting of his hits burning into your cheek?

Did he say he’d come back for you one day? You couldn’t remember anything—not his words or what he looked like. Your dad was gone, it didn’t matter how, he left you. He gave up, he was a quitter.

You said you hated your dad, but you knew, you’d take his love back in a heartbeat if you could.

Especially today, since it was your birthday.

It was another day in your calendar, another day to be alone and angry over something you couldn’t control. You would never admit it, but you wanted a happy birthday for goddamn once. The ridiculously cheesy triangular hats strapped on your head, a store–bought ice cream cake with your name in icing on top, a crowd of your friends and family singing the traditional song off-tune with big smiles. It would’ve been something you wished for, if only you had the appropriate amount of candles.

As you woke up to nothing, you couldn’t help but bear the weight of immense disappointment you experienced every year. For some unknown reason, a small, childish part of you wanted to wake up to a “Happy Birthday!” from your loved ones. It wasn’t their fault, though. You did everything possible to make sure no one knew it was your birthday so you wouldn’t be let down again.

First thing in the morning, and your thoughts already trailed back to your deadbeat father. How nice. You sighed, not exactly having the energy to wake up and face your own fears before a harsh knock sounded at your door. Did one of the boys need help setting up for the latest play or something? You hurriedly rushed to open the door, about to ask what was wrong before you stopped, meeting face to face with a familiar pair of black, square glasses and a blank expression.

It was Sakyo, infamous yakuza with a glare that could kill. He stood before you in his usual black turtleneck and grey suit, his arms across his chest with his foot tapping against the ground, a sign he was growing impatient. Before you could slam the door closed and run the hell away, Sakyo seemed to notice and stuck his foot right between the opening, pinching his nose bridge with a frustrated groan. Of course, the yakuza had quick reflexes for his old age.

“Rookie, learn some proper manners for once!” Sakyo barked, prying open the door against your very insistent will. You eventually let the door slam against the wall, knowing it was a losing battle because once Furuichi Sakyo put his mind to something, he’d always win. With something akin to satisfaction, Sakyo met your eye with a huff, pushing back a strand of blonde hair covering his vivid purple eyes.

“Good. You’re awake, I would’ve had to kill you if you were still sleeping.” Sakyo cursed casually, blinking at your sudden flinch from his words. He paused, before adding a “Nevermind that... Anyways, get dressed”, closing your door quickly and disappearing down the hallway. You took a moment to process what he just said, before quickly preparing for the day with a million questions running through your head.

Why would Sakyo need you for anything? He was more than capable of ordering Mankai, nevertheless Autumn Troupe, to do the dirty work around the dormitory. After all, no one wanted to deal with the backlash of Sakyo’s (unfortunately correct) criticism about how twenty plus boys couldn’t just live like they were all teenagers. So, why you? You grabbed all your proper necessities for an outing, knowing damn well a job done with Sakyo wasn’t just a short trip.

Reaching the main lobby, you noticed Sakyo pass a list of some sorts to Izumi, who glanced over it and nodded. She was about to say something before her eyes landed on you, sending you a bright smile and waving good morning. You couldn’t help but notice how much they looked like parents sending their children off to school, the observation causing a deep sense of sadness to settle as you looked away uncomfortably.

You missed the way Sakyo’s hand hovered over your shoulder for a moment before dropping it to his side, clearing his throat to get your attention. You turned to him, seeing the car keys already in hand and an itinerary written in his planner. Oh no...

“You’re here quick, good job.” Sakyo mentioned offhandedly, pushing his glasses up with his free hand as he reviewed his own list. You didn’t know why, but you almost felt overwhelmed with being praised by Sakyo so early in the day. A warm sensation of pride filled your chest, replacing the previous melancholy from before. You tried not to make your smile obvious, but Sakyo narrowed his eyes at you.

“What are you laughing at, rookie?”

“Nothing, nothing!”

“That’s what I thought... kids these days.”

(You weren’t the only one who tried to hold in your laugh, though some did better than others. Luckily, you weren’t at the receiving end of a harsh threat from Sakyo.)

Sakyo was only thirty (30) years old, but sometimes, he acted like an old man despite his impressive agility and athleticism that challenged the teens. You admired this as Sakyo ordered for the car keys from Sakoda, catching them smoothly with his hands gripping them without fail. You were certain you would never witness Sakyo drop anything in this lifetime, and dutifully followed him to his car, saying your goodbyes to the rest of the company.

Weirdly enough, Sakoda didn’t follow, but stayed behind with the group who was oddly awake already. You didn’t have the guts to question it, as you moved to sit in the back of the car. Sakyo was about to start the engine before he stopped, looking in the mirror with an almost confused glint to his eyes.

“Why are you in the back?” Sakyo asked, to which you blinked as if it was most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t deserve to sit in the front.” You retorted immediately and Sakyo frowned, a deep furrow to his eyebrows as you wondered why he reacted the way he did.

“Who taught you that?” You didn’t respond to the question, so Sakyo just exited the car, opening your door with the same displeased look. Yet, it wasn’t aimed at you, it seemed to be distant and cold.

“Get in the passenger side, sit anywhere you want.” Sakyo demanded and who were you to refuse? You slid into the seat beside him and Sakyo drove off, the Veludo Way scenery passing by you. You glanced at the dashboard and of course, he was driving at the safe speed limit. A yakuza who obeyed the law, how uncommon.

Ten (10) minutes must’ve passed before you shifted in your seat, fidgeting with your fingers. Sakyo sighed tiredly, as if he hadn’t slept at all as he slowed down to a stoplight.

“You know, you don’t have to be so uncomfortable around me, rookie.” Sakyo said calmly, tapping his fingers on the wheel with his eyes trained on the lights.

You were constantly being taken by surprise today, all because of Sakyo Furuichi. Before this, you hadn’t shared more than a few sentences at a time with Sakyo. The most you’ve said to him was during a financial budget meeting for the staff, mostly to halfheartedly support Yuki & Tsuzuru’s demands of a larger budget. Yet, here Sakyo was, acting as if you both were... family.

You swallowed down the bitterness from the thought of your actual family, before looking over at Sakyo. Sakyo was already looking at you and attempted some sort of smile. Even though you wanted to laugh at how hard he was trying to appear normal, you appreciated the effort. Sakyo naturally had a dad–like smile, how fitting.

Sakyo’s smile grew genuine at the sight of yours and before he said anything, a car horn cut off his thoughts. You didn’t know when the light turned green, but Sakyo quickly drove off while muttering a curse at the impatient line of cars behind them.

“Sakyo, where are we going?” You asked after you realized the roads were leading directly to the shops. Sakyo pulled into a parking spot carefully, but with the ease of someone who’s driven a thousand times and more. How did he just parallel park like that? You tried to hide it, but you were always impressed by Sakyo.

“Where does it look like?” Sakyo opened his door and slipped out, looking out of place during the daytime. You watched him before snapping out of it, hurriedly clambering after him as he barely looked over his shoulder. Sakyo was already halfway down the sidewalk before you caught up, knowing he must’ve been running on a tight schedule doing god knows what.

“What are you shopping for?” You questioned, trying to maintain your breathing. Sakyo finally looked down at you, furrowing his eyebrows before relaxing his face, noticing your worried expression immediately. You easily read the smallest signals from people, and it wasn’t hard to wonder why.

“We,” Sakyo emphasized, making a point to include you as he stopped, nearly making you bump straight into him. “are going to every store in this place. I need help buying... a gift, for someone. You pick, got it?”

You couldn’t help but imagine a father buying a gift for their child. This was the closest you would ever get to that dream—that dream of being loved in such a parental way. You just nodded, knowing if you spoke, your voice would crack. Sakyo didn’t ask, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment before searching the random assortment of stores.

“They’re like you. I’m sure they’ll like whatever you choose.” Sakyo tried to comfort you, but his tone fell flat and he seemed out of his element. Before the silence got too awkward, Sakyo gestured towards the food court. “Forgot breakfast this morning. Let’s go.”

Who were you to argue with Furuichi Sakyo? You followed him, even if he was a bit lost. Sakyo must’ve avoided the mall for its crowds of people, because he did a full 360 as he read each menu.

“... What place do you like?” Sakyo finally asked, peering down at you to catch the smallest movement. You barely glanced at some breakfast display before he made his way over, ordering for you. For some reason, you were flattered at how Sakyo actually knew your favorite breakfast option. You didn’t even have to correct him, he just knew.

When you both sat down at a table (after Sakyo embarrassingly demanding a wipe to decontaminate the dirty spaces malls offered), Sakyo glanced up every once in a while to make sure you were eating a full meal. Sure, mall food was less than ideal, but you seemed so content that he didn’t mind the overpriced options, surprisingly.

“Thank you for the food, Sakyo.” When you thanked him for the meal quietly, Sakyo felt a pain in his heart from how nervous it was. Sakyo just waved his hand as if to say it was nothing, looking away. Why did Sakyo suddenly feel so proud all of a sudden?

As you stood before all of the stores, not knowing where to start, you heard a sentence you never thought possible from Sakyo.

“Today, price doesn’t matter. Go choose whatever you think is best.”

In fact, today was possibly the worst day to be shopping with Sakyo. Anytime you picked something up, he would attempt to buy it without you looking, thinking mere observation was interest. You had to explain to him that just because you complimented something, didn’t mean you wanted it to be the choice.

“How many gifts are you planning on getting this person?” You laughed, a part of you jealous of this mystery person. Sakyo must’ve really cared about them. Sakyo just shrugged, putting back a shirt you thought was fashionable. Sakyo was truly unfamiliar in this new territory. Sakyo really wasn’t a person who spent money, so being inside a mall was enough to make him on edge at all times. But... Sakyo contentedly watched you as he made sure no one was following. Sakyo would never get used to a mall, but it wasn’t so bad today.

Sakyo breathed a sigh of relief when you finally chose something, most likely fed up with the number of people at any given place. You were surprised that Sakyo didn’t even check the price and swiped his card. Yakuza money must’ve been a different lifestyle, you thought. At the register, the cashier checked the item out and looked up, politely making small talk.

“Are you shopping with your father today?”

You looked around and realized they were asking you. The cashier thought Sakyo was your father. You both froze, shocked at the simple question. You failed to recover, attempting to adamantly deny the conversation with a nervous laugh.

“N–No! Um... he’s—” “Yes, I am their dad. It’s our special hang out this month.” Sakyo replied smoothly, seemingly unbothered by your reaction. The cashier seemed touched by the fact you two went out monthly, sending you both their congratulations. Sakyo took back the credit card and purchase, thanking the cashier for their service as he escorted you to the front of the store.

You were still in shock by the time Sakyo made you sit down on a bench. You couldn’t process the words even if you kept hearing them in your head. Sakyo confirmed he was your father, and although you knew it was a lie, you felt proud. Why did it make you so happy to hear Sakyo say that? Why did Sakyo even say that? Was this what being someone’s child felt like? You couldn’t even remember the last time your father was publicly proud of being related to you. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your head.

Sakyo was... patting your head? Sakyo seemed caught off guard, even if he moved to do so. It must’ve been subconscious because Sakyo took a moment before ruffling your hair, the action unfamiliar to both of you.

“Don’t blank in a public space. It’s not safe.” Sakyo said firmly, looking at his hand. On the same hand, he was wearing a watch. Reading the time, Sakyo’s eyes slightly widened before he stood up, quickly mentioning something about being late to an event. You nodded as Sakyo scrolled through his phone, the buzzing consistent as some sort of group chat was blowing up his device.

“Okay. Let’s go home.” Sakyo casually mentioned but you experienced a warm sensation of pride once more. Home... you hadn’t had a place like that in so long. You followed Sakyo to the car, noticing he checked to make sure you were following this time.

On the way home, Sakyo properly made sure all roads were safe (Sakyo let you turn on the radio this time). When Sakyo pulled in and stopped the car, he pulled the bag from the back of the car and shoved it into your hands. Even though Sakyo pretended it wasn’t a big deal, you saw his embarrassment on his face. Sakyo didn’t give gifts often, but when he did, it meant something.

“This is for you. Keep this, okay?” Sakyo pulled at his collar when you finally smiled, unable to deny it when it was a token of your time spent together. Before Sakyo could leave the car, you pulled Sakyo into a hug with a big grin.

“Thanks, dad.” You accidentally let slip out, but Sakyo awkwardly patted your back. “Of course, rookie. I’ll see you next month for our hang out.”

That was the start of hanging out with Sakyo every month, and it all started on your birthday. When you walked into the pitch-black dorms, all you heard was a “Happy birthday!” from every person in the company. While everyone began singing, You noticed Omi and Izumi carry out a homemade cake with the right amount of candles, the flames dancing in front of you. You blew them out ceremoniously, smiling as Mankai cheered.

(For once, you didn’t wish for anything. You had everything you needed, right here.)

When you spun around, you saw Sakyo wearing a dumb party hat and that’s when you knew: Your home was with your second family, Mankai.

You didn’t have your birth dad, but you did have a family.

#furuichi sakyo #sakyo furuichi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! one shots #act! addict! actors! one shots #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! sakyo #a3 sakyo

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matchasprouts · 3 years

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The Walls - Chapter 5

[ whoa! idk how i got this out but uhhhhhhh enjoy ]

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Felix was surprised to be woken up by Greta, three hours after he usually got up no less. Before he could ask why she let him sleep in, she cut him off with the answer. “You looked ready to drop dead yesterday. I figured you needed the extra rest.”

She was right, those extra hours helped dissipate some of the ache in his muscles. “Maybe you should take a break today,” she suggested, readjusting Brahms on her hip. “I know you usually don’t do that, the Heelshires told me that much, but you really need it.”

And then she left, and Felix was left wondering what she meant by that. Until, of course, he caught a look at himself in the vanity mirror.

He looked nothing short of awful. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of proper sleep he’d been getting, his eyes themselves were bloodshot, and if he looked closely he could see there was still dirt in his hair.

Not to mention the screaming ache that shot through every muscle in his body, almost making him feel like he was about to collapse.

The last time his body felt and looked like this was in college, and he hated it. He hated looking weak, much less feeling weak. If a break was what it took for him to have the energy to kill someone if needed, then he would take that goddamn break.

Starting with a hot bath to soothe his body and finally get that fucking dirt off of him.

---

He almost died in the bathtub.

Or at least, that’s what he told Greta when he came downstairs with his hair still sopping wet and dripping water everywhere. She seemed concerned for all of two seconds before deciding she simply didn’t care.

What actually happened is that he fell asleep in the bathtub, woke up suddenly to the sound of a child laughing, and freaked himself out. To be fair, he did hit his head on the side of the tub at least twice.

Anyway, Felix wasn’t built for breaks, so instead of relaxing or even just doing something small like playing the piano, he spent his time helping Greta with her chores. Being taller than her, he could reach higher shelves when dusting the bookcase, so he did. When she was occupied with Brahms, he would take over vacuuming or the dishes. He even took to going around and fixing every slightly crooked painting that he was sure had been jostled by the wall thing.

Basically, he was no good at sitting still. Felix was either doing something every second of the day, or he was sleeping. There was just no in between for him.

That is, until there was literally nothing else to be done. It was late afternoon now, the sun was just barely starting to dip past the horizon. Felix was sitting at the piano, playing a soft and somewhat cheerful tune, since Brahms didn’t seem to like the melancholic melodies he knew.

“When did you learn piano?” Greta asked after a while, setting down the book she’d been reading to the doll. The suddenness of the question made Felix’s fingers stutter, hitting a sour note that made him cringe.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted after moving his hands to his lap, so he couldn’t get distracted while playing again. “I imagine it was sometime in my childhood, maybe in highschool? I think I took a class… I’m not sure. My childhood memories are foggy at best.”

At least he was telling the truth. While fresher memories were burned into his head, anything before his freshman year in college was a blank. The only therapist he’d ever seen told him it was repression, due to trauma. Since he couldn’t remember what the trauma was though, they could never work on it.

The only thing he truly remembered was his mother. Soft voiced, a brunette like him, piercing green eyes. She was beautiful. She also had a grip like the devil, and spoke like it too.

To some extent, he was aware that his insecurities came from her. He also knew that she had been… less than supportive when he told her that he was trans, and that it led to probably one of the worst arguments of his life.

Sometimes, when he looked down at his hands, he thought he could still see the bruises her grip had left.

He shook his head, clearing it of the images of her. ‘She’s no longer a concern,’ he reminded himself internally, ‘you took care of that. She’s gone.’

“Oh,” Greta spoke again, snapping him back to reality, “well, that’s too bad. You’re really good at it, you know. You must have been practicing for a long time.”

Right. They were talking about the piano. He mentally scolded himself for getting off track before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I played all through college. Most at frat parties and the like, it’s a great party trick. My hands still cramp up sometimes though. Guess that’ll never stop happening.”

He returned to his playing after that, due to the soft scratching in the wall behind him. Sometimes the thing would let him take a break, but apparently today was not one of those days. He liked that it liked his music, he really did, but it could be so demanding sometimes.

After a little while, it came time for Brahms to be put to bed. After glancing at the clock, Greta stood up with the doll, told Felix good night, and headed upstairs.

Once Felix had finished the song, and confirmed that the thing had taken off, he followed her up.

And, since both were upstairs, neither of them heard the door open. The door they never bothered to lock because no one ever came all the way out here.

Felix had just collapsed face first onto his bed when he heard the thing practically running through the walls, back downstairs. Following that, he heard the familiar sound of the billiard balls hitting each other.

He shot up without a moment’s hesitation, running almost full speed back down the stairs and to the room where the pool table was kept. He almost fell over once there, slamming full force into the doorframe.

There stood a rather greasy looking man with long hair pulled back into a bun, sporting a messy beard. He stared at Felix in confusion, who was glaring so harshly at him that he would be dead if looks could kill.

It wasn’t long before Greta and the doll joined them, interrupting their staring match. “... Cole?” she asked softly, sounding both confused and scared.

Oh? Oh Greta was scared of this man? And he invaded their house?? Oh.

Almost immediately, Felix stood in front of Greta, grabbing one of the pool sticks and holding it up as a make-shift weapon. “You’re not welcome here,” he spat at Cole who, for the most part, seemed unfazed.

Boy was he gonna regret that.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Cole brushed him off, looking around him at Greta again. Felix once again stepped to block him. He accepted this fate, choosing to just speak at Greta. “Greta, babe, you just left without saying anything.”

It was hard to tell, but Felix could feel Greta’s free hand brush up against his back, seemingly grateful to have a shield against the other man. “Getting- getting this job was kind of sudden… and you know we aren’t together anymore…”

Knowing that Cole was an abusive ex made Felix want to kick his ass even more.

Cole took a step toward them, and Felix immediately held the stick up higher, more than ready to take a swing at the bastard. That made him pause, clearly wondering if getting beat up by a gardener was worth it.

“So, where’s the little kid?” Cole asked after a moment of tense silence. Felix glanced back at Greta, silently willing her to ignore him, but she stepped forward anyway and showed him Brahms. Cole laughed, as expected. “No, seriously, where’s the kid?”

“This is Brahms,” Greta said, standing her ground. She and Cole stared at each other for a long moment, before he seemed to accept that she wasn’t joking.

“Well, that makes this easier at least. We’re going home tomorrow. I already bought the plane tickets,” Cole announced, making Greta actually flinch. It was clear she didn’t want to go. Felix’s patience was running thin- he knew he needed to cut this off before he did something rash.

Before either of them could continue their conversation, Felix stepped in. “She’s not going anywhere. She has a job to do, and she will complete it. The Heelshires expect it of her. You’re welcome to stay here for tonight, only because I pity whatever hole you crawled out of, but you will be gone in the morning. Do I make myself clear?”

At least he was smart enough to avoid a confrontation. “Crystal,” Cole replied, putting his hands up in a mock surrender.

“I’ll get him set up. Can you go lay Brahms down?” Greta stepped in again, a hand on Felix’s bicep. He nodded to her, setting down the pool stick and taking Brahms from her. He sent Cole one last glare before heading upstairs.

Normally he’d be able to hear the thing follow him into the bedroom, but not this time. He assumed it was because it was watching over Greta, which he was glad for.

He changed Brahms into his pajamas with shaky hands, trying so hard to contain the rage that threatened to spill over just from Cole’s presence in the house. Another broken fucking rule, and he hadn’t been good enough to stop it.

After tucking Brahms into bed and giving him the obligatory good night kiss, he went back downstairs to check on Greta, only to be stopped by her at the top of the stairs. “Thank you for not doing anything… rash down there,” she told him, looking genuinely grateful.

“Believe me, if there was no consequences in beating him until he was unconscious, I wouldn’t have hesitated,” Felix replied harshly, now turning on his heel and heading back to his room. Greta stood in place for a moment, surprised, before heading into Brahms’s room.

The doll was the only comfort she had at the moment, so she laid down with him, holding him close as she drifted off to sleep.

---

They woke up to Cole yelling downstairs, practically screaming for Greta. When she and Felix got downstairs, the offending asshole grabbed Greta by the arm and yanked her into the room.

“What the fuck is that!?” he yelled, pointing up at something written in red on one of the upper windows,

‘Get Out’. Huh. Clearly the wall thing didn’t like this bitch.

Felix tuned out Cole’s frantic yelling when he noticed Brahms sitting in one of the armchairs, a bag full of dead rats sitting in front of him. Greta noticed it as well, gasping at the sight of the boy and rushing forward to pull him into her arms.

Apparently Cole did not like this.

“Of course all you care about is that fucking doll! He’s not a real boy, Greta!!” he shouted, making both Felix and Greta flinch. “Now you tell me who the hell did this!”

“Brahms did,” Felix cut in, making Cole look sharply at him. He figured he’d rather Cole yell at him over Greta. “He doesn’t like you. You’re an intruder in his home. He was bound to lash out.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me that the fucking DOLL did that?” Cole snapped, taking an aggressive step towards Felix and gaining a low growl in response. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“He’s not,” Greta cut in, her voice shaky. “Brahms… is very creative and- and he doesn’t like you. Not at all.”

Cole glanced between the two of them before letting out a frustrated yell and snatching Brahms from Greta’s arms, despite her protests. “Enough about this stupid doll!”

Before any of them knew it, they were upstairs and in the child’s bedroom. “Put him down Cole!” Greta begged him, staying a safe distance away but clearly wanting to run over to the boy.

Felix, on the other hand, was taking direct action. “Either you put him down, or I make you regret being born,” he threatened, grabbing the closest weapon- a small bat that he jokingly left in Brahms’s room “in case he needed it”.

“You’re not gonna touch me with this fucking thing here,” Cole retorted, holding Brahms up by the leg. He was right, because Felix just stood there, gaze glued on the doll.

Cole began to swing the boy around by the leg when he realized no one was going to do anything, quietly humming to himself. “Maybe… if this thing wasn’t here…” he mused, glancing at Greta.

Felix moved first, lunging for Cole, but he wasn’t fast enough. Not even close. Brahms’s head shattered on the chair before Felix managed to tackle Cole, sending both of them toppling onto the ground.

And then the walls started to shake, freezing both of them. Felix was up in a matter of seconds, truly panicking now. It had seen what had just happened.

And it wasn’t happy.

#story tag: the walls #s/i: felix shaw #brahms heelshire #self ship fic #self shipping #romantic: 🎭👁#self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #chapter 5

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ziracona · 3 years

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hey zira, what are your hot takes on all of the fo4 companions?

Haha, I don’t know how hot they are, but I can give you a speed run! (Also I am very excited to get this. FO4 was the first open world game I ever played and just the concept of that and the hugeness of the world and branching story & sudden feeling changes towards me in companion characters totally blew my mind, & it still lives rent free in my heart).

Ada, Old Longfellow, and Strong I /still/ haven’t maxed despite having too many hundred hours to want to list on this game—the former bc they were DLC, Strong because honest to god I left him at a nice settlement and then completely forgot about him and remembering that I am the energy in this Ryan O’Flanagan video but abt leaving my super mutant in a tiny settlement alone. I will get there! To max affinity I mean. But anyway, I don’t truly know those three, so my takes are incomplete. So far though, I really like Ada. She is a good girl just trying her best. Fucks me up I can tell her to self destruct. Even though I feel sure she would ignore me, I cannot imagine ever saying that to her. It was really sweet she was willing to forgive the Mechanist and move on with her life. A good girl. Longfellow I am maxing rn (was last time I played anyhow). I enjoy him. Gruff grumpy old man but he seems quite decent and I like his idle banter and when he sings to himself a lot. Seems like he’s had it rough. Strong I liked. He’s wild, and I loved how insane meeting him was, and am worried about him eventually understanding poetry and how that might mess up his sense of world understanding. But he’s a chill dude in his own way and I am glad they gave us at least one nice super mutant.

For the companions I actually do know like the back of my hand, the speedrun:

Nick Valentine: Best man on earth. One of two fictional characters I ever called husband. I would die kill or live for him. I want to be 1/4th the man Nick Valentine is. One of the best characters ever period and I adore literally everything about him. It fucked me up early in game where right after he offered to basically risk destroying his mind to help a stranger look for her son, he asked me how I was doing. First character in the entire game to do that. His first companion dialogue is abt how you’re doing TuT. The man is very kind and forgiving and fair, but knows when the draw the line and take no shit. Emotionally mature, kind, caring, longsuffering. Incredibly damaged and broken by life, but holding on and living kindly and to help others anyway. One of the four most marryablen fictional men I’ve ever seen.

Preston Garvey: Brave, kind, sweet man. I would defend him with my life. He really just wants so bad to make the world better and life has been so hard, but he’s still trying. A beautiful and underrated companion and I would throw hands for him on sight. I adore how he whistles. A true and gentle and loyal friend. Take him to Quincy and let him get his justice it’s what he deserves. People who hate him because he tries to get help helping civilians in that game are weak. I love him so much... please give him enough time to reach max affinity he’s so worth it.

Deacon: *To the tune of You Are My Dad* You are my friiiiend! You’re my friend! (Boogie woogie woogie). Initially, he pissed me off bc he lies all the god damn time, but after we got close enough he actually trusted me, he stole my heart and I would also die for Deacon. He’s a really good person who thinks he’s shit because of who he was on his past. Also him 🤝 Preston: massive survivor’s guilt. They should be friends. Poor Deacon has been the last member of the Railroad like four times, and it’s awful. Help him. Give him love and support. He’s one of my all time faves. Also, Railroad hands down best faction and if you kill them for any reason other than like a walkthrough route video and I ever get the chance I would 100% clock you in the face as hard as I can, like going for losing teeth, and feel no guilt. I know it’s a game and that’s wrong, and I’d be wrong, but I’d still do it. Also, Ryan Alosio (his VA) saw me do cosplay for Deacon once and told me it was great and it filled me with even more love. Anyway Deacon is great. Also, his whole “There are other organisations out there. And, in time, I'm sure they're going to spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit. Ignore the verbage and look at what they're doing. What they're asking you to do. What sort of world they'd have you build and how they're going to pay for it.” Is one of the like, two most iconic quotes in all of FO4 & just super good in general.

Hancock: Hardcore badass man but also a good dude and a champion for the people. Man really puts his money where his mouth is and you gotta respect that; another favorite companion for sure. Big fan of the way he stabs a guy for you upon meeting, and is a cool leader who organized his crime and does a decent job actually leading. He works hard to help people and bites back hard. Social justice advocate, dangerous man about town, not afraid to cosplay a revolutionary war hero 24/7 & u gotta respect the no fucks given attitude. A chill dude. Like that he fights the institute, hates the Brotherhood, helps the Railroad, and is friends with Nick. He’s legit af. Also, his VA gives a different answer every time someone asks him about the voice he did for hancock and they’re funny af.

Piper Wright: A cool spunky lady. Lois Lane on the case, kicking butt, and taking name. She’s nice but also hardcore and smart, supportive, fun. A good person. You always get points if you like Nick (which most companions do), and they’re good friends. She’s funny and I love her. A good heart.

Codsworth: He’s great. He’s family. He’s like my...weird brother. Getting to max affinity is heartwarming and also makes my heart go :’-] . Great early-game companion bc he kicks ass and doesn’t need stims to heal. I love getting called by my name and think that was a great feature (well, my PC’s name). He’s a wonderful funky little robot dude and I am so glad he likes me.

Dogmeat: Amazing. A good boy. Doggo of the year. His actor deserved the game award she won. Cute, full of love, and plays with a teddy bear if you give him one. 100/10z

Cait: I like her a lot. She’s been through so much shit, and it makes sense she is how she is. I like they actually gave her an emaciated and messy (though still pretty) design, since she is a drug addict. And that they make her main quest about taking that seriously and wanting to get help, and that she’ll call out the player if they fuck around and do drugs in front of her after she gets rehabilitated. Her relationship to the PC if good is really sweet, and I am a fan. I like that while she’s not sympathetic to synths and thinks they aren’t people, she forgets that every time Nick walks into a room and is like “Oh hey Nicky : )”. She’s a good girl who has been through a lot and still needs time to heal and find herself, but she’s making great strides.

Robert Joseph MacCready: Human disaster (loving). Homeboy a goddamn /mess/ but I love him. He tries so hard to be cool. I love he makes you pay him to come with, then chickens out and gives it back lol. A fool ball of anxiety and bad decisions and what he thinks brovado is. I wish he, Preston, and Deacon would quit fighting, bc I am always like “ :’-] </3 Boys Please” when they swap out, but I love them just the same. He’s doing his best, he’s just stupid and a fool. Like Philip J Fry. Keeping his goddamn soldier toy, which somehow is listed as junk instead of sent to Misc with quest items where it would be fine, safe?parylizes me with fear. I’ve lost 2 hours of gameplay reloading an old save bc I accidentally lost it.

X6-88: A more complex one to answer about. He’s bad, but like, I’m pretty sympathetic to how he got that way. He was created in a lab and had his emotions mostly dragged out of him in intense psychologically damaging training so he would be a weapon and view himself as an object. I was relieved he chose me over the institute even if he wasn’t a fan of the chocie, and think that means there’s a lot of hope for him. Wish he’d chill the fuck out and quit intimidating civilians for 6 god damn seconds, but I like him. I bring him fancy lad snack cakes home from travels all the time, bc Synths are supposed to like them. Really like that he’s the /most/ sympathetic companion towards Danse in Blind Betrayal, even though he should not be programmed for that, and Danse hated him and made it clear any time they interacted.

(EDIT) Curie: I FORGOT HER BABY IM SO SORRY. I like Curie a lot, despite the fact I temporarily forgot she existed. I stg I thought she was in here. Uhhh, okay. Curie: like her character and personality, HUGE un-fan of both the way her desire to get a synth body is to be ‘more real,’ as if Codsworth isn’t a fully realized person while the same robot type she is, instead of just like. Because it would make her happy. ALSO hate how much of a Born Sexy Yesterday she is, even intentionally in not-determinate affinity talks. It’s gross. But her herself, I like a lot. She’s my daughter and I will protect her. She works at The Castle right now as their on-site medic.

Paladin Danse: I know I’m gonna take heat for this but honestly? He didn’t do much for me. I like that he looks and sounds kinda like Buzz Lightyear, and that’s fun, but idk at all why people think he’s so hot. He’s very boring & generic looking to me. Like you’re valid! Taste all be different. But he doesn’t do it for me personally in looks or personality. I don’t at all like, hate him. Or even dislike. Tbh I am fairly neutral on him. It was funny making affinity with him though. Every other companion I had maxed, I liked more and more with each affinity talk. They’d be like “So my dad was a minuteman and died and I want to honor him” or “I just want to really feel like I’m a person, for real, myself, and I am glad I met you, because the good we have achieved together is ours, even if I can’t be sure of anything else,” or “My brother threw the cultural minorities out of our city for clout bc the rich citizens were all racist, and I tried to help—I snuck them food to the unsafe ruins they set up in for weeks, but eventually, they just vanished, and I still bear immense guilt and self-hatred over not having stopped that.” And Danae’s would be like “One time a buddy of mine got kidnapped by super mutants. They turned him into one of them, and they’re all abominations, so I killed him and it made me really sad.” And I was just like “...Oh danse. I really wanted to like you more. But what the fuck.” His relationship to Haylen is sweet though. And ofc I saved him in Blind Betrayal. I blew up the Prydwin so he’s safe now too, and he lives in the garden by my house and tells me how glad he is we’re friends, and I’m p into that. Overall, my feelings on him are not strong at all though.

Porter Gage: Not a fan. Like, I appreciated he helped me kill the old boss, sure. And bc I owed him for that, I went to max affinity to see what there was to him as a person. And like, as far as raiders go, he was okay. But he wasn’t deeply sympathetic, and he’s a slaver, and if you try to liberate the slaves he and the others own, he /will/ turn on and attempt to murder you immediately, no matter how close you were, so he made his choice, and it was to be a bad person and an asshole to the last. Really enjoyed the VA’s work a lot on him tho.

And there you have it 👈👈😎. Thanks for asking!

#ask #anonymous #fallout 4 #fo4 #god I love them so much. I was really proud I kept all the OGs too. everyone but Gage. who had to go but it’s his own choice and fault 🤷🏻‍♀️#GOD far harbor was a good dlc. it’s like the main quest choice again but way more condensed and twice as f ked up. my poor MC had only #come to terms just before with all the lives she took & started healing #doing bad things she did not want to do & knew he would know about and think less of her for doing. but she did them. 😔 bc of course she did #then she had to choose between letting the dude she loved be hurt in a way he wouldn’t recover from & torpedoing her relationship to him by #she loves Nick and if it’s him or her it’s always gonna be her #I was SUFFERING. a lot. but I also loved it #don’t come into my inbox and clown about liking Danse please or Gage. idc at all #like you are welcome to your opinion I’m not gonna try to convince you /not/ to like him. plz do me the same courtesy & respect my right to #have an opinion u may not like

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spockandawe · 4 years

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So, my heart keeps circling and circling back to The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, and I was idly prodding at why that is, even more than the other mxtx stories, and then I thought to myself, ‘why not ramble into the internet abyss instead of just in your own head?’ And so here we are.

I love this story so much, seriously. It was maybe the most difficult of the three novels for me to begin, because the translation editing is definitely rougher than mdzs and tgcf, and I think the story itself assumes that readers are kind of familiar with transmigration concepts (teal deer, person from real world reads novel, involuntarily is pulled into novel, often(?) as one of the established characters, lives out the-novel-plot-but-different).

But once I got past like, that first chapter? MAN. I was so hooked.

I think the first thing that really stands out to me is that Binghe as a love interest is...I’m not sure I want to say he’s more “flawed” than the other mxtx love interests, but that’s the best word I’m finding right now. The wangxian ship is mostly in tune with each other in the present, despite a few lingering misunderstandings. And the hualian ship, like, hua cheng rolls up like ‘heyy what up i would do anything you asked of me’ and xie lian was like ‘you. i like you a lottle.’ and their in-book development is mostly about bringing xie lian up to speed on the depth of their history together.

But Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe! The original canon Binghe is specifically a blackened hero, who is casually cruel and manipulative, and has collected up a massive harem of pretty ladies to be his wives and concubines. Pretty much the last straw in that blackening is that his abusive teacher (who he still desperately wanted the approval of) found out he was half demon (also news to luo binghe) and kicked him into the abyss where he had a miserable few years having his demon blood awakened. Later, he came back to the human realm, much stronger and angrier than when he left, and his morally questionable adventures involved de-limbing his old teacher, cutting out his tongue, and keeping him alive for years.

Shen Yuan is a modern-day human bean who has been hate-reading the webnovel of this story, where he can see a lot of interesting potential in the story, but is massively frustrated by the things the author has chosen to do with it. It is a Significant shock to his system when he wakes up inside the story, in the body of Shen Qingqiu. After Luo Binghe has already been his student for some time. Also, there’s a System that’s policing whether or not he acts in-character as Shen Qingqiu, and he’s going to get punished if his points drop below a certain threshold. He gets more freedom to act as the story progresses, but at first he has to do things like argue with the System about why he should be allowed to give medicine to Luo Binghe after he gets beat up (it will shame their sect if outsiders see him with a bruised face). And on the one hand, he’s trying DESPERATELY to avoid a future where he gets mutilated and tortured by his student, but... he is absolutely a massive softy who takes no time at all to start ADORING this kid and being super proud of everything he does. He won’t admit that, even in his own pov, and he has a very, very reserved external manner, but he’s so soft on the inside.

(ps why did using fans as conversational props stop being a thing. maybe sometimes i don’t WANT my face hanging out in public, maybe sometimes it’s extra fun to hide your expression.)

And this makes for a fascinating dynamic, because this new Shen Qingqiu 1) adores Luo Binghe, 2) is terrified of Luo Binghe.

At first, when Luo Binghe is still a teenager, it’s easier to land on the side of just adoring him. The original canon character was a sweet, sweet kid all on his own. And Luo Binghe is still an extremely good boy when this novel starts, even though he’s being mistreated by his teacher and most of his fellow disciples. But when Shen Qingqiu starts giving him support and positive reinforcement, oh my god, he BLOOMS.

But Shen Qingqiu is from outside the novel, and he knows where this is headed eventually. And at the point where the original character shoved Luo Binghe into the abyss for a couple years of misery, the new Shen Qingqiu thinks he’s in a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation, and... reluctantly does the same thing.

So here’s the trouble. Luo Binghe is... needy. He’s a needy, needy boy. He loves very hard and cares about his people (person) a lot, but he is also clingy as heck, jealous, and has MASSIVE abandonment issues. Getting this treatment from his favorite person in the entire universe is... not ideal. Having it happen when he’s just found out he’s half demon is even less ideal, especially when the framing makes it look like he’s being rejected because of What He Is, not something he has any power to change. And it ties back into to his oldest, most painful insecurities. His name literally means ‘lowered into the icy river’, because that’s what his birth mother did with him.

So when he comes back to the human realm, he’s not as blackened as he was in canon, and doesn’t have a grudge of the same magnitude as the original Luo Binghe. But the person he loves most in the world hurt him very, very badly, and he :) has :) some :) questions :))))))))))))))

And this is the point where every time Luo Binghe breathes, Shen Qingqiu goes WAUGHHHH

Which is so TASTY, honestly! And the escalation of hurt and mistrust is such a delicious feedback loop! I love a good supportive relationship, but I live for two people who care about each other inadvertently inflicting massive wounds on each other’s hearts.

I don’t want to go into describing the later parts of the plot, because that seems like such a waste, but I feel like transmigration stories are the MOST tasty if having prior knowledge of a novel’s plot makes the leads act as dumbasses in all kinds of new and exciting ways. Which definitely, definitely applies here.

And there are all kinds of DELICIOUS side relationships, which weren’t there in the original canon, and that Shen Qingqiu accidentally discovers/uncovers while he’s fumbling around trying to dodge his canon fate. Like, early in the book, Shen Qingqiu is supposed to kill one of his peers in the sect. The guy was suffering from a qi deviation and the original Shen Qingqiu was like ‘look, he was out of control, and I didn’t want to kill him, but it was him or me.’ Everyone was skeptical, but they didn’t have any evidence to contradict him. This character was the brother of one of Luo Binghe’s eventual wives, so it was pretty much just another bonus reason to hate his shizun once he turned against him.

The new Shen Qingqiu is like ‘okay, so this Liu Qingge is supposed to be strong. Maybe if I save his life he’ll protect me from Luo Binghe?’ And it changes SO MUCH! And Shen Qingqiu is SO DUMB! He’s like ‘wow, liu qingge really hates me, huh.’ And Liu Qingge is like ‘WHY ARE YOU BEING NICE. IT’S WEIRD. ARE YOU REALLY STILL YOURSELF?’ And then later there are spoilery developments, but there’s this act of devotion that moves me so much. (five years!!!!!!!!!!)

And I don’t want to undersell the intense emotions these characters are so frequently feeling in this story, but they are also. so dumb. so frequently, frequently dumb. and I live for it.

Like, I just got past the part in the novel where Shen Qingqiu sees Luo Binghe and Liu Mingyan having their first conversation. Liu Mingyan is a legendary beauty (so beautiful she wears a veil, because otherwise her beauty is just too distracting) and eventually becomes one of Luo Binghe’s favorite wives. So Shen Qingqiu (who hates the original novel, but also sure has a lot of passion for it and remembers a lot of the details, considering how much he theoretically hates it) is like ‘OH, HOT DAMN. MY OTP’S FIRST CONVERSATION. I WANNA SEE HOW THIS GOES.’

And what happens is that Luo Binghe gets so massively jealous. We get a bit of his pov, where almost all of his thoughts are ‘WHY IS SHIZUN STILL LOOKING AT HER?? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU CAN SEE MUCH PAST THE VEIL ANYWAYS. AND ANYWAYS, I’M PRETTIER???????????????’ And finally Luo Binghe goes off out of sight with her so shizun can’t watch her anymore, and Shen Qingqiu is like ‘ah.... alas....... of course the protagonist and his lady get privacy for such an important scene..............’

They are so dumb, guys. They care so much, and they ache so much over each other, and they are so dumb. And the supporting cast isn’t much smarter. Even the smart ones have the dumb ones inflicted on them.

In the extras, at one point demon king Luo Binghe is addressing his main retainers, and he’s like ‘if... hypothetically..... two people’s hearts were out of alignment with each other........ how would u fix that.......... hypothetically..............’ And his poor retainers are like

But I really, really think that the protagonist being afraid of the love interest is a really key point for me, personally. And then it’s extra my favorite, because of 1) him having a good fucking reason to be afraid, and 2) his love interest having no goddamn clue. It makes for such a good blend of humor and sincere pathos. I’m weak to dumbasses-in-love as a dynamic, but it can be hard to have something so lighthearted while also working in painful emotional depths. The premise for this story is hard to replicate, and I’m kind of drawing a blank on anything that I’ve read that measures up to it, and the plot REALLY makes the use of some incredible foundations.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my ted talk, this book is ridiculous and i love it, and it’s also the shortest and most linear of mxtx’s books, and i highly recommend it to everyone.

#svsss #long post/#guess who doesn't want to go back to her workday #it meee

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shannygoatgruff · 4 years

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My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter IX

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA

Overall Warning: Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Drug use, talk of spiraling out of control

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other. Boys will be boys…

Chapter IX

Why the fuck am I watching the news? This is what flipping through channels gets me. I should have never stopped when I saw this bitch’s face. I fucking hate her.

Now, I either want to put my fist through the TV or pull my damn hair out.

Fuck, I hate this bitch! She’s no different from the rest of these news assholes. Always trying to dig up some shit that should be left alone. Putting all of our personal business on blast like that...pieces of shit. And this whore is the worst of them. She's purposely trying to make Ivar and I look bad.

"Police are trying to find a common thread between these murders. The victims have all been found in remote areas throughout the county. The coroner reports each victim showed signs of sexual trauma and or torture, pre- or post-mortem. While police have no suspects, in these killings, they do believe they are all connected and have been committed by the same perpetrator. Witnesses to the last two victims’ disappearances have described seeing a Caucasian male, between the ages of 18-35, approximately 5’8” – 6’2”, medium build, with medium to dark hair, leaving with the victims. If you have any information about these victims or the suspect, please call Detective Torstein, Homicide." The white numbers for the police station flash on the screen under this bitch’s face.

“You fucking cunt!” I don’t know what just fell to the floor as I kicked the coffee table in front of the couch. She has no right to show fucking pictures and the names of our past guests. But, I’ll be damned, if they are there. All the ones from this month: Halfdan, Porunn, Astrid, and Erlendur. None of them looked like that when we met them. Then, they were all slutted up and ready to please. But looking at these pictures, they look like they’re a part of a fucking church choir.

You bitch!

But, fuck you news-lady, you forgot one. You forgot about that girl we met at the concert. I almost did. At least, I can keep one of those special nights sacred without you fucking it all up and turning it into some freak show for these news groupies to salivate over.

Shit, I just wish I could remember that whole night.

I can only remember meeting her and bringing her back to the cabin. I remember she was a great lay, and that looked fucking amazing. But that’s it. Every time I try to remember what we did, or how many times we did it or anything else, there’s like a blank spot. I don’t know if Ivar got to try anything new with her, or what.

Ivar said I blacked out, again. Did she pass out before or after he got to her? Did she try to escape? Did he punish her long and hard for that? Did she cooperate and he let her go? Is that why she wasn’t on this little photo lineup? What the fuck I am saying? He wouldn’t’ve done that shit. They just haven't found her body, yet.

That bitch reporter is smiling again. She's enjoying all the fucking lies and the smear campaign that she’s creating against us. "Stay tuned for more information on these murders as they become available. Judith Wessex, reporting, Action 10 News."

"Lying bitch!" Just the look on her face and the sound of her voice is driving me crazy. She doesn't know us. She has no right to say those kinds of things about us. Nobody tortured or brutalized anybody. It was all in fun. They were into it.

Ivar takes the remote from my hand and tucks it into his palm, "You don't need to watch this." He's been extra protective since I woke up in his bed. I can't do anything. He must have really been scared after this last blackout because he won't let anything upset me. Changing the channel, he settles on something non-threatening; Property Brothers. He knows I love that show. "There. That's better."

"I'm fine, Ivar,” I lie, “that bitch on the news just got under my skin.” I reach over to pick up the ashtray – when did I start smoking so much? I’m already on my second pack today and I’ve only been awake since noon.

"I know you are. But you get bothered so easily. I just want you to take it easy." His smooth voice caresses my ears and instantly gives me goosebumps on my arms. But he knows the damage is already done. Standing behind me, he holds his arms out on either side of my head, with his fists out in front of me. “Left or right? Pick one.”

I have no idea what’s in his hands, but since we’re both right-handed, I nod toward his right hand. He tilts my head back so I’m looking up at him. “Open up.” I obediently do as I’m told and feel three pills of varying size hit my tongue.

He quickly places a kiss on my forehead as I sit up to swallow the pills dry. Turning in my seat, I watch as he drops the pills from his left hand into his mouth. He holds his tongue out for me to see his four pills before his tongue darts back into his mouth.

“What was that?” I try to swallow hard enough to make the pills slide down my throat. Hopefully, it’s something that’ll make me stop wanting to throw this fucking television out of the window.

Ivar shrugs and smiles, “Fuck if I know. I found them in my coat pocket. Guess we’ll find out shortly.” He picks up the dishtowel that he had sat down on the back of the couch and slings it over his shoulder, "Anyway, Serk, that shit that reporter said wasn't true. She's just trying to fuck with us. Trying to make us slip up." He starts to walk out of the room but stops and turns around with a huge smile. "Maybe we should party with her." His smile immediately fades when he sees how upset she's made me. "Awe, brother… don't worry about that bitch. I'll kill her if you want."

"They know what we look like, Ives."

"How many white guys are there in the world, Serk? They can’t even agree on my goddamn hair color.” He leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest. “I took care of everything. No one knows. No one will ever find out." There is such honesty and power in his voice that I can’t help but trust that he believes this. I know he wouldn’t chance anything getting in the way of the life that we've built together.

But, there’s still that part of me that fears that our world is about to come crashing down around us. What would I do if I didn’t have this outlet or God forbid they took Ivar away from me?

"I can't handle this shit anymore. Fucking bitch reporters are lying on us. Stupid fucking cops are trying to dig shit up and sticking their pig noses where they don't belong." Everything as of late is running through my mind. This use to be so much fun, but now everyone else is fucking it up. "Something wrong with me. My blackouts are getting worse. We went out and I can't remember it. I can't remember jack shit from the past week! Who the fuck blacks out for a whole week? How long can I go on like this before something really fucked up happens?"

It feels like my throat is closing and I’m starting to sweat. My heart rate is speeding up and I think I’m about to die. I can’t breathe. Jesus, why does Ivar put up with me when I'm like this? "I'm fucking up at work. Fucking Ub is gonna come here and start asking questions. Thora’s gonna fucking leave me. You're gonna get tired of taking care of me! Shit's just all fucked up." I sit forward with my arms on my thighs and try to catch my breath. I try so hard not to give into the fear, but fuck if I'm not feeling it leak out of my pores.

This is why I need Ivar. Thora could never handle me like this. I can't even handle me when I get like this. "I don't know how much more I can take, Ivy. I can't do this shit, no more! I can't." All the air I’m trying to gulp in isn’t helping at the moment.

Standing before me with a concerned look on his face, he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson." And there it is - that voice that I fucking hate. That voice Father used to keep us in line. Ivar rarely uses that voice, but when he does it immediately gets my attention. I look at him obediently as he sits on the edge of the couch next to me and studies my face.

The amount of emotion in me is overwhelming and before his hand even reaches up to touch my hair, my throat starts to ache, my head hurts and my eyes are stinging. Shit.

Ivar's arms around me remind me just how much I need him and how important he is to me. "I'm sorry." I lean my head back on the pillow and let the tears run down my face. I’m so embarrassed and tired of always losing my shit. But true to form, his arms are around my neck and he presses his lips to my cheek and coos sweetly in my ear until I feel my fear dissipates.

With a smile on his face, he turns my head to his. "Better now?" His thumbs trace my tears as he holds my head in his hands. The look in his eyes tells me that everything is going to alright and I believe him. A simple nod of my head convinces him that the worst is over and with that, he places the gentlest kiss on the tip of my nose. I don't how he does it, but he always makes it better. "Come on," he takes my hand to pull me off the couch with him, "I baked cookies."

Now I just feel silly. I had another meltdown and truthfully I can't remember why especially when I see the plate of fresh-baked cookies that he has laid out on the kitchen table. Whatever was wrong with me just moments before seems trivial. It's amazing how he just always seems to know what to do to make everything better.

Ivar's back is to me as he looks out of the kitchen window, but judging by the way his neck is arched, he's taken an interest in something. "We have new neighbors." His voice is distant, almost like he's speaking without thinking. He can’t tear his eyes away from whatever is outside, but his head turns the slightest bit to face me.

I’ve never seen him entranced this before. Ivar never fixates. These neighbors must be amazing.

I stuff a chocolate chip cookie into my mouth and pick up another one on my way to the window. He's right. A new young couple is moving in right next door and the woman is exceptionally beautiful. Her eyes are big and bright, her face is like silk and she has this refreshingly innocent look about her. It's enough to remind me that I haven't called Thora since the last night she was here.

Then there's the guy with her. There's something in the proud way he stands... the way his muscles protrude from the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the powerful way in which he slips his arms around her and lifts her off the ground…It makes my top lip sweat and a tingle start at the base of my skull.

I can't move. I can only stand here and chew my cookie as I watch these beautiful creatures in front of me. “They are perfect,” My voice comes out like a dream. I don’t even recognize the sound of it.

As soon as I look over at him and see that gleam in his eye, I know that he already knows. They are perfect.

He lifts my hand to his mouth and takes a bite of the cookie I'm holding. "Yes. They. Are." Chewing, he nods his head and smiles. "We should welcome them to the neighborhood." He always says that the only way to get over the last one is to take a new one. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.

Something happened with the last girl. Something bad enough to make me forget the most important things. I wish I could remember that night because I want to know that I showed her a good time, but I don't want to remember why I lost control. It's no use worrying about it now. I can't dwell on old memories. I can only look forward to making new ones. New memories with my new neighbors.

No matter what I've done before or how I feel about it now, the only thing I can concentrate on at this very moment is the dull gnawing in my gut. I need something to keep my mind off of all of this shit.

I need this. I need them. I may always be fighting with the half a conscience I have, but the growling inside of me is usually much louder than it.

The beast inside of me is awake again. And it's so damn hungry.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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@youbloodymadgenius @idea-garden @kol--mikaelson @mooniemouse@didiintheblog @tempt-ress @waiting4inspiration @where-beauty-goes-to-die @crazyaboutmotleycrue @oddsnendsfanfics @geekandbooknerd @honestsycrets @ivarthebloodyking

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 204: Chintetsu

Previously on BnHA: Shouto left Endeavor on read. Team TodoIidaShoujiRo attacked Team TetsuHonePonySen head-on, hitting them with a wave of ice and freezing them all in place. But it turns out Honenuki’s quicksand quirk is actually a “softening” quirk which can soften anything he touches. He used that to melt the ice to allow his teammates to escape. It also turns out that he had pre-treated some of the surrounding area with his quirk, and Ojiro and Iida came crashing down from their hiding spots shortly after as the softened ground gave way beneath them. Sen attacked Ojiro with his drill quirk while Pony took on Shouji. Meanwhile Tetsu went for Shouto, realizing a direct attack was his best bet. And Honenuki trapped Iida under a layer of the softened ice, but then made the mistake of rehardening it, intending to keep him stuck in place. Instead, Iida blasted free with his Recipro, revealing that he’s built up his endurance to the special move. So now we’ll see if he can take Honenuki down.

Today on BnHA: We get a wholesome Iida flashback to when Tensei explained how to upgrade his Recipro by -- wait, what? Mutilating his own fucking leg?! Holy shit. That’s not wholesome at all. What the fuck. But anyway, it worked I guess because back in the present day Iida is zipping along at speeds faster than Gran fucking Torino, and he’s able to maintain this speed for up to ten whole minutes. The only downside is that he can’t fully control himself because he’s so goddamn fast and so he keeps skidding around. Anyway, so Honenuki is like “nope” and gets the fuck out of there. Meanwhile Sen continues to whoop Ojiro’s ass, but then Iida shows up to save him so yay. Elsewhere the Tetsuroki fight has heated up, quite literally, as Todoroki activates his left side to create a wall of fire, and Tetsutetsu proceeds to walk right through it and attack Shouto as a red hot steel man. Shouto thinks back to his dad’s training and decides that the solution to this is clearly to make shit even hotter, so he starts up with that, and the chapter ends.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 223, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

ohhh my god

IIDA FAM FLASHBACKS!??!

AHHHHH

EXCUSE ME IS THIS THE FUCKING FUTURE OR NOT?? CAN WE GET IIDA TENSEI A FUCKING HOVERCHAIR HERE PEOPLE? IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK. IF ONLY HORIKOSHI WAS AT ALL FAMILIAR WITH MARVEL COMICS -- OH, WAIT

but seriously though. also he’s supposed to be rich too isn’t he? c’mon

also! Iidamom looks exactly like I expected her to. welcome to our canon full of other awesome moms, Iidamom! a few more moms and I’ll be ready to do a top ten moms post. spoiler alert, the winner is not who you’d expect (unless you’re expecting Aizawa, because then you’re absolutely right)

anyways so I got SUPER distracted just now but apparently Tensei is talking about “tuning up” Iida’s engine!

wow can they do that?? fucking quirks, though. wild

oh my fucking god

just yank that fucking muffler right the fuck out. and a new one will grow in!! fucking QUIRKS, though. WILD

dsfalkhsd

just yank that fucking muffler right the fuck out without anesthesia. what are you, a pussy!?

gee thanks Horikoshi for this graphic image of Iida biting down on something while he uses his bare hands to yank what are essentially bones -- or organs, or whatever! the point is they’re part of him! -- right out of his fucking body. might wanna add some vodka to that OJ tonight Iida

OH SHIT, THAT PAYOFF THOUGH

IN TEN MINUTES YOU COULD TAKE OVER THE FUCKING WORLD, IIDA!

okay maybe I got a little overexcited. but damn though!

so he’s DRRNing over to Honenuki and

oh my god

loool at the thought of Iida zooming around wildly for the next ten minutes while he tries to figure out how to stop this thing, and meanwhile Honenuki can’t land a hit on him though

GET HIM IIDA!!

oh fuck

can he breathe under there? you know, depending on how long they still have until time runs out, he could just hide for the next ten minutes and then emerge and drag the paralyzed Iida to Rat Principal Jail

(ETA: actually that was a stupid thought. obviously Iida doesn’t have to keep Recipro activated the whole time if there’s no need to.)

but no, he’s swimming back to Tetsu and the others for now

meanwhile Iida’s still up top and trying to figure out what he’s up to

maybe you should do the same

holy shit we’re cutting back to the kids outside and Deku says Iida’s even faster than Gran Torino

“by a long shot.” that’s fucking fast. and I love it

by the way, with the way Mina was pointing, I thought, “oh, maybe Ojiro’s finally getting the upper hand!”

but no

Horikoshi why do you hate poor Ojiro

it’s probably the pain of this guy kicking you in the chest with his rotating fucking foot

so he’s trying to figure out what to do because he can’t really attack, and he keeps getting hurt whenever he tries to guard

oh hey there

trying to decide if I’m disappointed that Ojiro will never get to do anything cool, or ecstatic that Iida fucking Tenya just pulled off a badass save of this caliber

leaning more toward ecstatic, honestly. sorry Ojiro

oh, Iida

nice use of the word “forthwith”, Iida

(ETA: and nice use of the word “slammer”!!)

and now he’s telling Ojiro to go help Todoroki and that he’ll be right back

well I guess class 1-A will need some sidekicks too

meanwhile we’re sticking with Iida, which means I’m going to keep right on posting all of his panels, because his dialogue honestly deserves a fucking pulitzer prize

never, Sen!

Sen’s trying to reason his way out of this and telling Iida that he shouldn’t let Honenuki get away because he’s more of a threat

and he’s also grumping about Iida interrupting his and Ojiro’s fight. “you shouldn’t interrupt a one-on-one fistfight like that”

um, says who? fuck that. we’re trying to win here, we can make friends after

Iida says if he allows his will to be bent here, it will be bent in the real world as well

basically he’s treating this seriously. well, good

meanwhile! we’re cutting back to two minutes prior!

I guess Tetsu’s best option is to somehow knock him out. but the problem is that Shouto’s reflexes are too good and he can create an ice barrier in an instant

I think Tetsu’s steel would allow him to withstand Shouto’s fire long enough to punch him on his left side, though, so that would be my personal strategy if it were me

heh

A+ attack name. Shouto I’m sorry, I love you, but if I’m being honest I’m rooting for this guy here

heh

so you think he should try the fire instead? I’m not so sure that’s the best play in this case though. at least with the ice he has better control and he can hold him at bay. I just don’t think the fire would be that effective against Tetsu, but I’m sure we’ll find out shortly

because Tetsu’s bragging about how easily he can break through Shouto’s ice defense

ah here we go

for some reason Bakugou actually wanted to go up against this. still don’t quite understand it. my baby boy got a death wish

lol Pony’s running off. honestly a miracle she wasn’t incinerated just now

Shouto’s yelling at Shouji to go after her and Shouji’s all “got it”

yeah I’m thinking my initial assessment was right and this was indeed a mistake

fucking great. now you’ve got a molten steel man after your ass, Shouto

LOL

holy fucking shit. just in case anyone isn’t aware, “chinchin” means “penis” usually. so yeah

and I fucking love that here he’s using it to mean “hot”, but it could also be a throwback to the whole “five peepee man” thing, which he doesn’t actually know about but I do, and so to me this is the funniest thing ever okay

I have no further comment

oh fuck

no but as you can plainly see he is no stranger to burns, so please try not to maim him too badly...!?

lol Vlad has started narrating again. no doubt elated that his team is somehow eking out a win in what initially appeared to be the most one-sided matchup we were going to see today

uh oh but now it looks like Tetsu may have accidentally triggered the quirk development that Endeavor was trying to trigger but couldn’t because Shouto won’t return his damn texts

before I continue to the next and presumably final page of this chapter, I’m just gonna take a moment here to appreciate the irony of Endeavor accidentally conditioning Shouto to never listen to him ever, even on the occasions where it turns out he’s right. he spent years trying to get Shouto to use his flame side, but failed utterly, and then in the span of one fight Deku did what Endeavor had spent Shouto’s whole life trying to get him to do

and now it’s happening again here, where we see that Endeavor was once again trying to teach him something, but Shouto just ignored him until a random kid from the class next door just happened to say something similar. and then it clicked

like, it’s a major burn on Endeavor (no pun intended), but it’s also really unfortunate for Shouto, because his dad has been such a prick until recently that he’s missed out on absorbing the few worthwhile things he actually had to teach him. lot of lost time to make up for here, on both sides

anyways, let’s watch as Shouto slowly processes all this

well I assume (a) because of the “surpassing my limits” thing, and (b) because he’s been texting you nonstop and it was probably on your mind even though you were stubbornly trying to pretend it wasn’t

lol what kind of cliffhanger is this??

he’s not even doing anything! come on Shouto what are you doing to us. this isn’t fair

also, what happened to your hand? why is it all smooth. I assume because of some fire bullshit you’re about to do, but that’s still just weird looking

oh and on the last page there’s a long translator note explaining what I mentioned before about “chinchin” meaning penis. sometimes on select occasions I’m down with Horikoshi perpetually having the mind of a 12-year-old. if he wants to make this a recurring thing I won’t complain, lol

#bnha #boku no hero academia #iida tenya #honenuki juuzou #kaibara sen #ojiro mashirao #todoroki shouto #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #listen though #if tensei doesn't have a goddamn hoverchair by the next time we see him then I am going to start making some calls #and writing some emails #there is no excuse #don't tell me we don't have the technology when a high schooler is out here building jetpacks just for fun #we have sassy robots and holograms but no hoverchairs??#give me a break

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prairiesongserial · 5 years

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5.7

It didn’t take long to figure out why, presumably, no one else had ever tried to steal the water at the top of the mesa: it was suicidal. Unless you had access to the underground tunnel, you had to pass through the packs of muties that were all over the mesa, whose hearing was so sharp that they could find you if you so much as spoke above a whisper. Cody and Sailor had figured that much out after limited success with hand signals, but they were still proceeding as softly as they could, both of them watching the ground to ensure neither of them snapped any twigs, or happened to disturb a rock or animal. One slip like that, and it was over. They would have to sprint to the top of the mesa, and they were barely halfway there. They couldn’t even risk firing their guns at a lone mutie that came after them, because the sound would surely attract a much larger attack.

Still, the operation was on a time limit. If Cody and Sailor went too slow, they risked leaving John alone in the underground tunnel for too long, or Nash just up and leaving them. So they had to move quickly - but not quickly enough to make mistakes. It was frustrating, and Cody had to wonder exactly how much Marc had known about this mutie nest before sending him and Sailor into the thick of it.

Cody’s hands were drenched in sweat, and he wiped them on his jeans, doing his best to keep up the pace with Sailor. It wasn’t hard, not when she stopped every couple of minutes to carefully adjust her leg, sometimes wincing a little as she did so.

“You okay?” Cody asked under his breath the fifth or sixth time it happened, tracking a nearby pack of muties that was filing down a rock formation in the distance. Their long limbs seemed to be built for climbing, and they moved slowly, almost lazily. Cody wasn’t fooled. He’d seen how fast the ones after the rock earlier had moved, when they’d thought it was prey.

“It’s this goddamn leg,” Sailor said, as though the source of her problem wasn’t immediately evident. “It pinches. And it’s too light. Can’t move right with it.”

Cody frowned. Suddenly he had a whole new reason to resent Marc, besides the pool full of water that could otherwise have been drinkable, and the fact that Marc had come up with this terrible plan in the first place. Who just replaced someone’s custom-made prosthetic on a whim, without even fitting them for it first? And right before expecting them to pull off a huge job? A couple of the Dead-Eyes had prosthetics, and Cody remembered exactly how particular they were about the way their limbs were fine-tuned, and who was allowed to make adjustments to them. He was starting to suspect that Marc only cared about theatrics and end results, not how hard it was for everyone else to get from Point A to Point B.

“Marc’s a dick,” he muttered.

Sailor snorted, straightening up. “Yeah. I was pretty sure I prepared you for that.”

“Not enough,” Cody said, making an effort to keep his voice no louder than a murmur. He wiped his hands on his jeans again, though it didn’t do much for him. The sun was high in the sky by now, and there wasn’t much shade on the path, unless they wanted to risk resting under one of the rocky outcroppings the muties were traveling up and down.

“Wonder how John’s gettin’ on,” he said.

“He’s probably down there waiting for us to get a move on,” Sailor said, taking a few light, experimental steps, then setting off properly on the trail again. “All he had to do was take care of a couple guards, not God knows how many muties.”

“Still,” Cody said. He followed Sailor, staying close enough that they could hear each other speak. “Guards are at least a little smarter than muties.”

“Only a little,” Sailor said, with another amused sort of snort. She glanced back at Cody over her shoulder, caught him watching, and shrugged. “I’m sure he’s fine. You’ve got enough to worry about without adding his mission in the mix.”

Sound advice, but it didn’t mean Cody had to take it. Or even like it.

“You know, I’m supposed to have family down here,” he said, judging the need for a change of subject. “I mean, my mom died before I got to meet th-”

He didn’t know what he stepped on. Maybe he never would - looking over his shoulder to check behind him, Cody didn’t see anything in the path that would have made the sharp, gunshot-like sound he’d caused just a moment ago. And looking out in front of him and Sailor, he doubted for a long moment that the misstep had actually made things any worse for them than they already had been.

“Shit,” Sailor said, flatly, in a tone of voice that said she had been expecting one of them to fuck up eventually. Judging from that tone - and from the look on her face - she was a little relieved that it hadn’t been her.

Cody couldn’t say he blamed her. He opened his mouth to reply, and snapped it shut again as he saw movement in the corner of his eye, and turned his attention towards its source with dawning horror. The group of muties he had been hanging back was moving with purpose now, turning around in a distinct, tight arc that would point them right back towards where Cody and Sailor were standing.

Cody’s breath caught in his throat. Oh. So it’s gonna be like that, I guess.

“Okay,” he said, aloud. He adjusted his clothes slightly, making sure the collar of his poncho wouldn’t flap up into his face, and that both his pistol and his rifle were secure against his body. “Guess we’re sprintin’.”

“Guess we are,” Sailor said grimly, hunching over into a runner’s crouch.

The race up the top half of the mesa was grueling, with a narrow, winding path, and a pack of muties breathing down their necks. Even so, they covered more ground than Cody had thought they would, and he wondered why he and Sailor hadn’t been running this entire time, before remembering that it probably would have been impossible. Not only did it make a lot more noise than walking slowly and carefully, but Sailor’s leg was clearly bothering her, sometimes causing her to fall out of step and lag behind. Cody tried to slow down to match her, and she waved him off every time, looking frustrated.

“Stop it,” she snapped, just as he’d started to jog alongside her again. “One of us needs to get to the top.”

“I’m not gonna leave you behind,” Cody insisted, between labored breaths. He couldn’t ever remember having run this much in his life, and his heart was pounding so hard that he could barely hear himself over it. But he was stubborn, and he didn’t like the idea of leaving Sailor behind, not when she’d saved him and John from Marc’s men the night before. The way he saw it, he owed her a rescue - or at least his support, until they got out of this mess.

“Cody,” Sailor said. “I’m a fucking professional. I’m not gonna die.”

If she was bluffing, it wasn’t immediately evident. She was confident enough that it made Cody falter, then speed up a bit, gaining on her by a couple of steps. The muties were still bearing down on them from behind, though a clearly man-made fence at the top of the mesa had come into sight over the horizon, and one last push might -

Cody’s train of thought was derailed by the noise of a gun firing, so close to him that he almost startled right out of his skin. He faltered on his feet again, twisting to look over his shoulder just in time to see a mutie drop to the ground like a stone some ten feet away. Sailor had stopped in her tracks, lining up another shot with her rifle, and Cody slowed to watch her do it.

The muties, however, didn’t. Cody could still see them charging up from below, a great wave of them coming up the path, and realized with dawning horror that they had been close enough for him to hear the noise of them gibbering to each other the entire time, growing louder as they grew nearer. He just hadn’t been able to hear them over the sound of his own pulse.

“Go! Don’t slow down,” Sailor snapped, without even looking at him. “Don’t wait for me!”

“But -” Cody started to protest, and was cut off by the sound of her firing the rifle again, then a third time, picking off two more muties that had broken away from the pack to sprint at her. Her aim was good, and both dropped to the ground several yards out. Cody couldn’t help but wonder if Sailor had enough ammunition to take on the whole pack, once they caught up to her.

“Go!” Sailor said, cutting through his thoughts.

Without giving himself time to second guess it, Cody went.

The compound at the top of the mesa where the water was kept wasn’t much to look at. Just a tall, chain link fence blocking off a few yards of dirt, with a handful of barrels resing on a metal platform smack in the middle of it. The lift. There was even a small column poking up on one side of it that no doubt had the controls to move it up and down.

Cody began to scale the fence, painfully conscious of the sound of gunfire and muties growling and groaning in the distance. He’d lost sight of Sailor as the path had twisted around towards a different side of the mesa, taking him around a sharp turn, but he’d also lost the muties.

Or he thought he had, anyway. A sound from much closer by let him know that the assumption wasn’t entirely true - at least one mutie had given chase to the compound. Cody tried to climb faster, grabbing handholds up as high as he could, but he could see it cresting the horizon in his peripheral vision. Gaining on him. Definitely not slowing down as it headed for the fence. He clenched his fingers through the gaps in the metal so tightly that his knuckles turned paper-white, and braced for impact.

It was the right decision. The mutie threw itself against the fence, shaking the entire structure. Cody’s stomach turned over as he wobbled back and forth, one of his feet slipping for just a moment before he rammed the toe of his boot back where it had been. That shook the fence, too, and the mutie below him made that horrible, dog-like grunting sound that Cody hated.

Cody stayed where he was for a long moment, wondering if he could hold on to the fence with one hand, and reach his pistol with the other. He might have tried it, if his hands hadn’t been once again drenched in sweat - and if the mutie hadn’t latched onto the fence with both hands. At first, Cody thought it was just going to shake the fence again, trying to knock him down, but then it started to climb.

It was fast. Inhumanly so. Cody froze in terror for a moment, and that was all the mutie needed to start gaining on him. He could feel the weight of it bending the fence, making it bulge inwards towards the small compound area. He bit back a scream, and focused on the top of the fence, on reaching it - but even if he did, he would still have to climb down the other side, and that would bring him face to face with the mutie.

A hand brushed his ankle, then grabbed the hem of his jeans and pulled. One of Cody’s hands fell away from the fence, and he grasped for it desperately, trying to correct. He could feel the grip of his other hand loosening, feel himself about to fall - and then the grip on his jeans loosened, like it had never been there to begin with. Cody swallowed hard, getting his bearings and his grip on the fence again, then looked down.

Sailor was there, panting, cleaning the blade of her knife off on her jeans. The mutie that had been pursuing him was crumpled in a heap on the ground, a pool of blood spreading rapidly out from underneath of it.

“Told you I wasn’t gonna die,” she said, sheathing her knife and hopping up onto the fence. Her rifle was noticeably absent - either she’d run out of ammo and abandoned it, or it had gotten too damaged to be worth using. Cody hoped it was the former.

“How fast can you climb?” he asked her, catching sight of another mutie as it crested the horizon.

Sailor bared her teeth in a strained smile. “Let’s find out.”

5.6 || 5.8

#story

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homieswithhades · 6 years

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BTS Analysis;

I don’t even know if I can call this an unpopular opinion bc I know some people agree with this, this is more of an in-depth analysis and personal experience I guess. It’s all about bts... and its lowkey a mess. I apologise in advance for any grammar/spelling errors, and times I may contradict myself a bit. This is something that REALLY bothers me. I just want to clarify that I love bts a lot, and that I was the HUGEST STAN for a good 5ish months. I still stan them but not as much due to the following reasons.

They just don’t make good music anymore. They love yourself era was when everything turned to shit. The actual core love yourself concept is very good but,,,, it was executed really poorly.

Dna was my first comeback with them, even though I’ve been listening to them since august 2016. But when actually became a stan in April 2017, I was obsessed with them. I was so damn excited for their September 2017 cb that my standards were through the roof. During the summer they changed the logo and did the beyond the scene thing,,, that’s the first thing that kind of irked me,,, and then they did the highlight reels in the style of I need u and they were redeemed.

When love yourself her started promotions and teasers, the bar was higher than the person who edited the DNA mv. The concept pics were so unfitting??? And just lacked that aesthetic element. I dint like them at all,,,, and the album cover was,,, below standard and looked rushed and lazily designed. But when serendipity came out I loved it (and I still do) so that fuelled my expectations for the music, even though they weren’t really that damaged by the odd first impression of the album. But then DNA came out and???? I was so disappointed?????? The beat was so annoying,,, the mv was so ugly,, the outfits were ugly,,, the lyrics were weird. In other words DNA was just a straight up flop... I hoped the rest of the album would have been better but,,,, it really, REALLY wasn’t.

After love yourself her I lost a lot of interest in bts. I missed their old music so much, and I was genuinely upset over it. I didn’t follow them as closely as I used to. I started to joke about them with my friends who lost interest in bts before me, but I still missed the old bts so much. The whole Ellen show thing, all the western media like Buzzfeed and Billboard making vids and articles about bts, all the rigged award shows, it pissed me off bc they were getting famous in the US bc of their worst album that didn’t display their full potential at all!!!!

Imma just go out and say it, armys are one of the most toxic fandoms ever.

Sometimes they’re just plain disrespectful and starting arguments where they don’t belong. I wouldn’t be able to count how many times I got attacked on Twitter, Instagram and even in the YouTube comments for expressing a different opinion. I remember all the fan wars and scandals. All the mobs at airports, All the times k-fans and i-fans tried to ruin another groups reputation (I’m not saying other fans never did this, bc it was always a thing, but it was never this extreme.) and the fuckin credit card thing oh my god,,,, a huge shitstorm caused by one fandom that lasts for years on end.

When bts got really mainstream, and gained more young western fans, they really ruined bts even further for me. Not to mention all the cringey tweets and memes, they hurt to look at. I absolutely don’t mind the “you got no jams” meme or the “ExCuSE mE” one, bc theyre just pure goof from the members, but when armys took it and overused it, that’s when it started to get annoying.

Some armys genuinely think bts is the only kpop group and that the world revolves around them. They comment “annyeonghaseyo any armys here???!!!” in the most unexpected places, I deadass saw someone on my overwatch team playing quick play with the name “army.FOREVER.saranghae” yall do realise it costs 10$ to change ur blizzard username, right?

Some armys also don’t respect other kpop groups in older gens (or any other ones for that matter) and assume that bts broke through into the western world themselves, which is complete bullshit, without groups like bigbang, shinee, tvxq, shinhwa, h.o.t, seo taiji boys etc etc (and other ones I don’t know of rip) kpop would have never gotten into the western world.

I never identified as an army bc I knew they were cringey bc of my friends who were HUGE armys back in 2016 and low-key koreaboos, and I knew what the bad stans looked like, so I never associated with them, and just called myself a bts stan. But the whole western situation just got so goddamn worse. I was sick of the Americans plaguing bts for me.

I also wanna say, I know not all armys are toxic and cringey. And I respect the level headed and chill Armys, yall are doing it right.

Moving on from Armys, I noticed a change in bts themselves. Namjoon changed his stage name, which absolutely sent me. I understand the meaning behind it but for some reason I felt that he did it to be fake deep? Or woke, and that he tried to completely cover-up his past self. The other members became cocky and were always draped in all that ugly Gucci and designer shit. I knew they were being forced to act the way they were acting, bc I know them well. I know how they really are. I know that they’re good people. I know they’re very humble deep down. They had that special connection with their fans before, that made u feel like u were good friends with them, and they absolutely ruined that. They’re being forced to put on this fake image to impress you filthy Americans.

I still stan bts atm. But I stan them for their old music and the people they truly are, not who they are portrayed to be. I can’t remember when euphoria came out, but I was kinda annoyed they tried to incorporate hyyh prologue into their shitty concept. And the song was also annoying and too edm-ish (like most of their new songs, idk why their style completely changed). Anyway, when tear came out, I was still kinda off the bandwagon, and I saw the concept pics and I was surprised at how nice they were. I saw the album cover, which was still ugly but better than the previous one. Then Singularity came out and!!!!! I loved it a lot. And then fake love happened. Oof is all I have to say. But some songs on the album, were actually good. Like the truth untold, paradise and OUTRO TEAR. Outro tear will remain the best song in the love yourself trilogy.

I also feel that I have to acknowledge that for all the love yourself albums only the intro and outro were genuinely up to standard (except outro answer).

Then came love yourself answer and idol. When I found out they were collabing with niki minaj I lost it. The concept pics were ugly once again, it was supposed to a controversial comeback???? And??? It wasn’t. I’m honestly glad it wasn’t promoted.

I noticed a repetitiveness with songs on answer. The beat was off with the singing. It was all just a mess. I also noticed the amount of godddamn auto tune in the songs (eg, mic drop, fake love, idol, airplane pt.2 and others I can’t remember atm) all of bts’s old songs all sound unique and different, and they all had this “emotional” element to them, to elaborate on that, compare dna, fake love or idol to save me, I need u or young forever. Notice how dna, fake love and idol convey absolutely no emotion through the lyrics or the actual beat of the song, unlike save me, I need u or young forever, that literally have more sentimental/emotional value in the few English lines that are in the song then all of the lyrics in their 3 new title tracks combined. I think this is my most difficult point to explain bc different songs make people feel different things, but it’s no doubt that you can tell the difference between a song that’s made to appeal to the masses with no unique properties to a song that coveys deep emotion (whatever the emotion may be) through the beat, the lyrics and the sound of the vocals/rapping alike. Listen to intro nevermind, and then listen to go go and just try to tell me that im wrong.

Alos, bts seem to have incorporated auto tune into songs, especially on their vocalists. bts don’t need the auto tune bc they’re good vocalists. Also, I have to mention, the vocal line isn’t the “best” per say. they’re good vocalists but it’s nothing special. Seokjin is the best vocalist period. Jungkook’s voice is generic, and in recent songs he has been straining it to reach the notes. Taehyungs voice isn’t even that special, it’s just deep, and it only really suits ballads and R&B songs like singularity or butterfly. Jimin has a very nice voice, but again, it’s nothing extraordinary. I feel that Jin has the most vocal potential, and he doesn’t get to show it, he has this really unique voice, idk what it is about it that just??? I really love it. But to clarify, I’m not hating on their voices or saying there untalented, because they’re very talented, but most of vocal line gets too much credit. As for rap line, I think they’re one of bts’s strongest points. Namjoons style is so smooth and just overall good? It amazes me that he rapped so well over the years with a breathing problem. Hoseok is a good rapper too, his sound is unique and his adlibs add to that uniqueness in older songs, as for Yoongi, I genuinely think he’s one of the best rappers in the industry, it’s not about the speed element, it’s about his flow, his power, his emotion, everything about his rap is just amazing.

Now I wanna talk about the member’s individual popularity. The maknae line has the most stans, and quite frankly, their stans are the worst. Treat all of the members with the same love and respect. Sure, it’s perfectly fine to have a bias but to disregard the other members is just plain wrong.

Bts are human beings, first and foremost, and then there musicians second. They’re being made into media puppets and clout bait, which they absolutely don’t deserve. They deserve recognition for their good stuff, which they have PLENTY of.

All in all, I’m sick of the American attention. It’s cringey, annoying and unnecessary. Sure, bts deserve recognition but not that much of it!!!!!!

And they were being recognised for the wrong thing for fucks sake!!!! I didn’t like ANY of the new songs on answer. I only liked epiphany. And then I found out it wasn’t written by any of the members. Rip. Fans will unfortunately blindly follow, stream and like whatever they put out like blind sheep because it’s accustomed to them, bighit KNOW that they’ll make more money in America. They know no matter what bts put out, no matter how shit it is, fans will like it and itll be revenue for the company. And all the mobile games and the bt21??? Was so unnecessary?? Capitalism amirite? Quantity over quality. It’s the sad truth.

Armys tend to mix up criticism and hate. Although there is a very thin line between the two, there is a difference. Criticism is the analysis and judgement of the merits and faults of something. Hate is blind and unjustified. Hate is disliking something for no reason, or for a very invalid reason. So for example, saying; “I don’t like this apple because its bitter and im not a huge fan of bitter things” is fine to say, unlike, “FUCK THIS APPLE BECAUSE ITS BITTER, FUCK ALL APPLES” you know? It’s okay to dislike a group. It’s NOT okay to hate on a group. No one’s is going to gain anything by hate.

So, all the youtubers are reacting to bts for clout, the fandom is a fucking mess, armys are attacking other fandoms for no reason, the members lost their TRUE humbleness and neglected their real personalities and they’ve put out 3 overall bad standard albums over the course of a whole ass year.

But I still have this spark of hope for them. Why? Because I love them, they have a special place in my heart. I know they have the potential to be amazing, unique and just overall good people with their own personalities, and truly special musical abilities.

After their tour I honestly, really hope the attention dies down and they put out another good, original, album like the hyyh albums, with nice concepts, good songs, and a pleasant to look at mv. It’s really all I ask for. The old bts. I know I’ll never get them back, and I absolutely cherish their old stuff, like the bulletproof logo, bangtan boys, rap monster, hyyh, young forever, no more dream, wings, them all goofing around together and not caring about their image, their wholesome interactions with fans, and all the songs and concepts and theories that never have, and never will be recognised.

On a final note, I realise I can’t blame bts themselves entirely for this. This stuff is only partially “their fault”. Its bighit’s fault, the army’s and haters fault and the media’s fault. But, America is to blame the most. That’s all for today.

#delete

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norihisahyuga-archived · 6 years

Text

the little things

one-sided kuroda yukinari/ashikiba takuto 2k | rated t for language

Kuroda might have a crush. He might also be noticing the smaller details he wishes he was blind to and growing a soft spot for his new ace.

The first time Ashikiba’s laugh makes Kuroda feel warm all the way through, he punches his bedroom wall so hard it leaves bruises stamped across his knuckles.

It is absurdly easy but also difficult to make him laugh like that. For all of his efforts, he is an idiot through and through and though Kuroda finds it almost charming sometimes, he cannot shake the fact that Ashikiba is easily one of the dumbest people he has ever met. More often than not, he finds himself explaining things as simply as possible when faced with those confused violet eyes; something he sees them in his dreams. They put every single gemstone in the world to shame, outshine every star in the sky.

When Kuroda wakes up realizing he’s dreamed of more than just those eyes, he throws himself into a vigorous shower so that what he remembers fades away quickly.

They have to spend time together. They have to find a rhythm together. Fukutomi wants Kuroda to be the ace’s assistant for Ashikiba, wants Ashikiba himself to grow into an ace who can carry the hopes and dreams of his team across the finish line. To become the kind of two-man team that Hakogaku will need when the third years graduate, they have to stay side-by-side.

Kuroda is not sure if this is divine punishment, or a reward he will never be able to earn.

“Yuki-chan,” Ashikiba whines halfway through the set of sit-ups that Kuroda has entrusted him with, looking at him like the most pitiful kicked puppy in the entire world, “can we just call it done for the day? I don’t want to do anymore. I’m sore.”

Even on his back with his long legs folded at the knee, it’s impossible not to notice how tall Ashikiba is, how his height goes through his long legs and into his torso, how noticeable his arms are even bent with his hands tucked behind his head. Kuroda thought he had been Ashikiba’s partner long enough to stop noticing mundane things about him. He’s finding out now just how wrong he was and just how hard it is to get his focus to stay on track.

“I don’t want to hear that. You know we have to train.” Keeping Ashikiba on track has been a chore in and of itself, but Kuroda welcomes it. He knows Ashikiba wants to do his best, after all, and if that means being the one to push him to new heights, then so be it.

He didn’t realize this would mean spotting him while they were doing sit-ups. He didn’t realize this would mean keeping ihs hands on Ashikiba’s feet, counting out the reps in his head while every single “up” brought Ashikiba’s face in closer and closer proximity with his. Close enough to let him see the slight flush in Ashikiba’s cheeks, the stupid curl in his soft orange hair that seemingly begs to be played with, the long strands of his eyelashes and the beauty mark beneath his eye that almost looks like a little heart.

Kuroda thinks he might be learning to hate training more than anything else.

“If you want to get strong enough to carry the team, then you have to strengthen your muscles,” he says over Ashikiba’s pitiful whine. “All of your muscles are connected, remember? Your core muscles are important especially. You’re always done. If you keep wasting time, I’ll add more.”

Ashikiba’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t do that to me! Would you?”

Of course not, but Ashikiba has no right to make him feel so bad for even joking about it. “What did I just say? Now get it together and get back to work.”

It takes him a minute or so to collect himself, but Ashikiba returns to proper form and Kuroda goes back to counting, trying not to get distracted by the way Ashikiba pouts at him or the way his hair falls into his eyes and sticks to his forehead from the sweat. By the time he finally makes it to his last sit-up, he looks exhausted and falls back on the floor, dramatic as always, half-twisting around so his legs splay out beneath him.

He wraps his arms around his middle and whimpers. “Now I’m even more sore.”

Kuroda squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, telling himself to take slow and deep breaths even as his breathing trips. He should leave this alone; muscle pain from sit-ups will stop with time and Ashikiba has ridden more fiercely and hurt himself far more than this. Still, he finds himself reaching for him when his eyes are open, shoving his own hands out of the way so he can touch himself. Through the cycling kit, of course.

“You’re being melodramatic for the sake of being melodramatic,” Kuroda tells him, and Ashikiba slowly stretches out, languid like a cat. “Hold still. Don’t squirm around so much.”

If it was anyone else, he would have left well enough alone and went on with their training schedule, but Ashikiba smiles gratefully up at him and relaxes under his touch. He doesn’t have masseuse skills despite his various sports-related skills but he knows enough how to soothe sore muscles after a workout and from the way Ashikiba sighs softly, it must be working.

He would never have done this for anyone else. Never would have extended this gentle touch to any other member of the team; in fact he would likely have told them to suck it up and get back to work if they really want to win the upcoming Inter-High now that the third years are leaving.

Ashikiba finally stretches underneath him, then blinks open bright purple eyes. “I feel better now, Yuki-chan. Thanks so much.”

“You gotta learn to build up endurance better at this rate,” Kuroda tells him, taking his hands back with more effort than he should have to flex. “Come on. We’re going to ride up the mountain for a bit now.”

There are no complaints about that. Kuroda has learned to read Ashikiba well and he does so during the climb, watching for the moment when his good mood clicks into place, when the music swells in his head. A different piece each time, and though Kuroda wants to ask after what this piece is (not to listen to it before he falls asleep, and Kuroda has never liked classical music anyway) he stays silent and keeps his eyes on Ashikiba.

This is normal, right? Watching after your teammate, your partner and your ace, is normal.

The next shift catches his attention, when Ashikiba sways his body back and forth, slowly and first and then more fiercely the more speed he gains, the more confident he grows. The Metronome Dancing Kuroda has watched and memorized a thousand times, the swing of his long lean body from side to side to the tune of the music in his head.

Kuroda might as well not even be here at this point.

He could easily pace himself and outmatch Ashikiba, show him that he still has plenty of work to do and is not even close to where he should be yet. It would be easy, and Kuroda would not feel bad doing it, either.

Well, he might feel bad. He doesn’t like being the cause of Ashikiba’s soft sad eyes and downtrodden mood if he can avoid the worst of it.

He permits a break when they reach the peak and watches Ashikiba sip from his water bottle, watches his Adam’s apple bob with each long swallow until Kuroda feels his tongue grow heavy in his mouth and his own throat tighten, dry and dusty. Water only chases away a little of that sensation; if Manami were here, he would have implied Kuroda might be thirsty for something other than water, which only infuriates him that much more.

It’s easy to get mad at Manami, even when he isn’t here, and it is a far easier direction to send his frustration without Ashikiba realizing it. “Fucking goddamn winged asshole.”

“Yuki-chan?” Ashikiba cocks his head at him. “Is something wrong? Are you angry with Manami?”

“Hell yes, I am.” He doesn’t elaborate, and Ashikiba seems content not to ask.

The ride back is far easier on a downhill slope and Kuroda feels slightly better when he takes his helmet off and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Ashikiba hums softly to himself, most likely whatever piece he had been listening to in his head, and once again his eyes meet Kuroda’s, soft and warm and happy. The earlier issue with sit-ups has no doubt faded from his mind even as Kuroda’s eyes dart back down to his stomach. Is he still sore? He must be.

"Riding with you is always so much fun. I’m glad we’re able to ride together so much.” Ashikiba beams at him and Kuroda feels like a deer caught in headlights, staring down his inevitable demise.

He white knuckles his bike handles and grits his teeth together. “Yeah, it uh. Was a good ride.”

“I know I complained earlier about sit-ups and I apologize for that. You’re right when you said I have to keep working hard to win.” Ashikiba smiles and it makes the setting sun look dull and ugly in comparison; the light of the setting sun plays on his hair, a sunset forming a halo around his face. “I’m going to keep working hard, I promise. Even when it hurts. That way, we can win this year! We’re going to make everyone so proud, aren’t we?”

“Uh, yeah.” Kuroda pinches the bridge of his nose, telling himself to go slow. Inhale, exhale, stay calm. “We’ll win this year because I didn’t come this far not to win. We’re going to win this time.”

He wants Hakogaku’s title back. He wants everyone to have to realize that their team is strong enough even without the third years to carry them. Most importantly, he wants to feel the rush of adrenaline that comes when he puts his hand on his ace’s back and pushes all of his power and hope into Ashikiba’s body, propelling him with it across the finish line.

“Right. You have been working hard. You’re doing a really good job!” Ashikiba smiles at him and Kuroda looks away, not sure he can take the intensity of such an expression.

“Yeah.” He walks his bike over to where he’s left his schoolbag, shouldering it before he mounts his bike once more, ready to head home for the evening and try to figure out what he wants to do about these unwanted feelings. “So don’t let me down. If that means doing sit-ups until your midsection gets ready to break, then that’s what it means. Put your all into it and the team.”

A large hand lights on his shoulder as light and gentle as a butterfly, almost uncertain as though Ashikiba thinks he might not be able to do this as he wants. “I will. I won’t let you down. I’m tired of letting the people who put their faith into me down.”

The memory is sharp and sudden, the sight of Ashikiba getting turned around in a race and riding backward, the crestfallen expression on his face when Fukutomi had taken away his right to ride. He remembers the panic in those bright eyes when the anxiety had choked logic and reason out of him, and for some reason this makes him angrier than the full weight of his tumultuous emotions concerning Ashikiba combined. Kuroda never wants to see that again.

“You won’t, Takuto,” he says, setting his feet on the pedals of his bike, ignoring the flash of hope in those beautiful eyes. “You couldn’t ever. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”

He rides hard and fast back home until the strain in his legs threatens to overpower him. Easier to handle that than the very heavy reality that he might be falling in love with Ashikiba Takuto.

#writes this complete fucking horseshit for no reason #yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #yukinari kuroda #takuto ashikiba

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gyeommine · 7 years

Text

MONSTA X as Best Friends

this is one of my lil’ au’s that i whipped up whilst i was away with no internet. i need to write more mx stuff(: i tried anyway - i hope y’all like it.

(gif credits to the original owners)

Shownu:

(boiii look at u w that bandana !)

biggest dad friend you'll ever have in your life

makes sure you're fed

gives you lifts whenever you need one

also makes sure you never have to walk on your own.-will fight a mean s/o who he may have had a bitter disliking to anyway bc it's you

basically is super protective of u

he is always v sleepy tho, esp if you're just chilling at your place.but you forgive him bc he's an overworked dad of 6

he is super down to earth and most chill human being in your lifehe is also super dependable, and is always there when you need him

he also gives the best hugs – they're rare but bOI are they worth it

is always awkward about you seeing him at shows or watching shows he's on bc he doesn't feel like he's a big idol, he's just your best friend

but you force him to tell you when he's doing anything so you can shout the loudest

most easily mistaken for your boyfriend

is a lil' bit dense at times, and is least likely to laugh @ your jokes

doesn't get sarcasm either

he's also clumsy

but apologetic, extremely apologetic

he can be a lil' blunt and straight forward at times but he's never as bad as the 'shownubot' he is v sensitive to your emotions, and is super caring

you also see the cute side of shownu

him beaming at small animals, when he talks about his fave food or his parents

again, far from the showminator everyone sees on variety shows

buuuuuuut he's v difficult to read, thanks to that beautiful but often blank face he has

you also get really flustered when he juST strips??? boicouldunotwearepalswthpls

you look at him awkwardly but he'll either not get it or be like “what? We are friends?”

and you remember your best friend is the most endearingly dad-like human in the world and nobody can change that

Wonho:

(a d o r a b l e)

I am convinced he will just giggle 24/7

ray of sunshine hoseok will just make you so energised and happy when he's in the same room as you

which makes you fiercely protective of him

you get to see his cute, bubbly side all of the time and it's literally a goddamn blessing

you guys just eat together

you'll deliberately plan on going to different restaurants or food places just so you can sample everything

but his eyes will always light up when you say “Ramen?”

like dad!sonhyunwoo, he is fairly shy about the stuff he does and is v bashful when you compliment his idol stuff

he'll shrug it off like its nothing and you'll be like “??? ur one of the most talented people ever you can literally fite me”

wonho and you could literally make anything fun, so hanging out w each other is never ever dull like, you'll create random dumb shit to do that only kids would think of and it would be great

but he's a really sensitive and sweet friend

he just gets you, and will immediately be on the same page as you w whatever you are feeling

he is so supportive and cares about you to the moon and back

it's bloody adorable literally treasure this man

like he will literally stay up to ridiculous hours in the morning to listen to you rant or console you

(my heart is melting whilst writing this send help)

but as we found out in the monsta x ray finale, boy needs that support since he spends all of his energy worrying about his pals and like how he gets you, you completely understand him it's weird, neither of you understand how you're in so in tune w one another

but it's great honestly a++ friendship

Minhyuk:

(y’all don’t even understand how much of a look the red hair was wOW)

most of the time he just ??? you can't explain him ???

he is one of the loudest, and goofiest people you know

when you guys go out together, ppl are stunned bc he's super handsome

but you know that he's not this super cool, standoffish model-type – he's an idiot

he sends you pictures of cute animals all the time

or he tags you in them on every social media possible

and you guys watch a lot of disney

w a perfect aladdin duet where minhyuk is jasmin (ofc)

lil' dumb things like that brighten your day

he just has a knack for cheering you up

and he just radiates kindness – he's just a sweetheart

but when you guys are together, the sheer amount of noise you guys make is incredible

you guys are literally tied at the hip

you do everything together, a lot of spontaneous stuff too

lots of random sleepovers where you stay up way too late

you hang out so much, that the rest of the mx are just used to having you around

like an 8th member tbh

it gets to a point where you guys miss each other like crazy when his schedule is packed

and the guys tease that you might as well go out

but it's fine, you've both talked and thought about it (midnight chats is all I can say)

but you both know that you're more like siblings

and that's chill

like wonho, he just gets you

he knows when your sad, and exactly what to do

he'll have some takeout on speed dial and a shoulder to cry on

he's actually one of the most attentive people

and sometimes it makes you sad when people just assume he's a shallow idol

but you're just happy to have him in your life.

Kihyun:

(his lil’ smile i swEAr)

he's so sassy w you

he's literally like a middle aged mum

yes, so he's often ruthless but he gives the best advice

someone treating you like shit? cut them out

it makes him incredibly reliable

he's always got your back and is ready to stand up for you

you guys wingman for each other too

you pretend to be in a relationship to fend off unwanted ppl in clubs

people think he's adorable but you know he's cut throat – and you love it

yet, there are instances where you catch him cooing at a baby or a dog

despite appearances, he would literally drop everything for you

he's loyal

if something has happened to you, he's right there if you're crying and listening intently

he genuinely wants to give you the best advice possible

he does love you, he just has v sarcastic ways of showing it

“i mean, if you were the last person on earth sure”

and you roll your eyes and just continue

probably will ask you weird questions at 3am

doesn't get that you not responding means stop so he keeps going

he has a ripe selection of mugshots of you and will utilize them

he's probably protective in a lowkey way, like he tries not to show it

he'll walk you home w the excuse “nothing else to do”

“for a sec, I almost thought u were showing affection!” and he'll scoff

you nod in mock acknowledgement but ofc you think it's really sweet beneath the unending sass you will tease him with predebut mx and it's rich

you always tell him you bias shownu just to irritate him

“he's not even that cute” he'll mutter bitterly

doesn't mean you won't have a funny picture of kihyun as your lock screen for months

Hyungwon:

(look at this dumb dork w his dumb ass smiley cute face what a dumb human)

one of your memeist friends

sends u dumb shit even if he's sat right next to you

also your laziest friend

if you guys arrange a time to meet, you always mentally add an extra 15 minutes

bc he's always late

he's also extremely sarcastic

even if it's just through an eye roll, he's a piece of shit

he's also a lil' awkward

you first met him through the rest of the guys, and he barely spoke

you just spotted a literal model on his phone in the corner

but as you were round there more, he let himself go

and came to know the lanky piece of shit u now tolerate

very much a love-hate friendship

from afar, it looks like you guys have no boundaries and you will say anything

but both of you just toss it aside w “character building” and you laugh sometimes he's sweet and it surprises you (like w the kids ep in monsta x-ray omg)

like he'll buy some food for a homeless man, or pull a funny face at a kid on the bus

and you tease him about it again, just character building;)

he's silently supportive

he's not great at the words and talking bit, but he's happy to just sit and listen

or he will instantly know what to do, and just order some food before you say anything

so you know ppl are wrong when they say he's just a lazy and standoffish idol

but he's extremely good looking and you had to learn to avoid stares when you guys go out together

he probably has a gift he bought you abroad from 2 years ago

says he'll give it to you, but still forgets

you really hope it's not candy that went off months ago

as much as you love your best friend, you don't want mouldy sweets

Jooheon:

(cutest cutie that ever cutied)

funniest

whether he's making you laugh or you're laughing at him - he's funny

you guys were definitely childhood friends

and everyone loves him

your close family always talks about him, asks about him

he's like a brother you never had (as cheesy as that is)

most friends drift apart, especially w his idol career

but - you guys are the definition of inseparable

you met bc someone was picking on you at nursery and baby jooheon intervened

and since then, you guys have never been a part

he is v protective

even little things like accompanying you home when it's late

any partner he has to meet just to make sure they're good enough for you

you sometimes have to tell him you're okay on your own

and he'll apologise, that he's just looking out for you

he doesn't mind you ringing him at early hours when something's on your mind

and the same with you

when you guys hang out, it's simple

going out for a drive and just watching the sun go down

you'll blast your favourite music and enjoy each other's company

cheesycheesycheesy

it's like something out of a movie

he'll sometimes even treat you – like take you out to dinner or something

to say thanks for being such a good friend all this time

you tell him he's cheesy, that it's not necessary

but he just blushes a little and says it's no big deal

he's the boy you'll mum will nudge and say “oh isn't he lovely”

you'll roll your eyes and say“he's just my best friend”

but you've thought about it, trust me he's definitely thought about it

who knows, all I can say is that it could happen

I.M

( i fell in love w changkyun while writing this i am such a sap )

you guys are like the chillest pair of best friends known

that's probably bc lil' changkyun is definitely more the introvert

he would much rather retreat to his studio to unwind than go out

which you're all for

you guys sit for hours in his mini studio

you listen to his stuff, and you just beam as he talks about his passion

it just fills you w joy when your best friend is so talented and you get to hear it

you do have to bring him out of his shell a little

bc this dorky, funny side comes out that has you cackling

you guys get food together mainly

and he loves it when you cook

you also feel it your duty to take care of this smol

feed him, look after him bc he's still your lil' maknae although nobody thinks he is

but it's not patronising, he's completely chill w it

the guys joke that he had/has a major crush on you

sometimes you question it, but he's like a younger brother to you

so you just throw something at minhyuk and jooheon to end the teasing

although changkyun always gets a tad shy when they mention it ??

there's never any arguments bc you guys are so alike

you have the same music taste, like the same foods, have the same opinions, watch the same tv shows and movies

it's really weird, but neither of you are complaining

makes life 10x easier !

he always feels super bad that he can't see you more

(which is v fucking cute fite me)

so he tries to plan these elaborate well thought out days for when he gets back

but he gets really bumbly and shy about it

bc it feels like a date but it isn't but he kinda hopes it is

so you guys always opt for a night long catch up w pizza

and you don't mind bc you're happy to see your fave human

i can assure you, so is he;)

hoped you guys enjooooyed! idk, this kind of helped me suss out their characters in my head a bit more - which is nice !! ty for reading <3

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thewalkingdeadimaginings · 7 years

Text

A True Friend

Could you please write me a Daryl x Glenn where Glenn gets hurt but to keep his badass vibe he pretends he doesn't care by once everyone isn't looking he goes full Mama Daryl and treats Glenn? I've been needing more Darylenn in my life, please and thank you! 💚

I’m actually really bummed that Daryl and Glenn didn’t get more scenes together in the show. Their friendship wasn’t shown as much as Daryl and Rick’s is but I still enjoyed it. So this one shot is gonna be fuuuun haha! 😊

The run was supposed to be easy, wouldn’t even be gone a day. Why had Rick insisted that Daryl take Glenn, Michonne, and Rosita along for backup? Daryl wasn’t in the mood for the group today and he just wanted to go on this run by himself. He still wasn’t thrilled with being here in Alexandria and needed time alone to clear his head. And yet Rick still demanded that he take a group with him.

“You really should let people help you more,” Glenn remarked as he was loading their supplies into the back of the truck, “Nothing wrong with accepting help, Daryl.”

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Daryl grumbled. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, his legs swinging outside the car as he was checking to make sure he had enough bolts.

“I know you hate that we’re going with you,” Glenn said, “You’ve been acting pissy all morning. But it’s too dangerous for you to go alone.” “I go on runs by myself all the damn time,” Daryl argued.

“And if you recall, those runs very rarely end well,” Glenn shot back. He sighed as Daryl swung his legs into the truck, sticking the key into the ignition. Glenn rolled his eyes, “Maybe we just shouldn’t talk.”

“Someone’s grumpy,” Rosita said to Michonne as they loaded the last of their supplies into the truck. The two women climbed into the back of the truck. Their time with Daryl hadn’t been as long as Glenn’s but they were also better at tuning him out when he was in a mood and hadn’t said much to him all morning. But in some ways, Glenn was just as stubborn as Daryl.

“Come on,” Daryl snapped. He rolled down his window and slapped his hand down on the side of the truck, loud enough to startle Glenn, “We don’t got all day.”

“Yeah, we should really hurry,” Michonne said, “If we wanna make it back here by tonight, we gotta get going.”

Glenn slid into the passenger seat and stared out the window silently as Daryl started driving out of the gate and down the desolate roads. No matter how long they’d seen such emptiness, it still was unsettling. Glenn still wasn’t used to it. He wanted to hear at least a plane fly by or just one car speed past them. Anything was better than this stillness. And Daryl being so quiet and tense wasn’t helping much.

Daryl drove for another two hours and he didn’t speak the entire time. He grunted and cleared his throat a few times and mumbled under his breath every time he looked at his map but otherwise said nothing. Glenn couldn’t imagine what was putting him in such a foul mood besides the idea of being placed with a group against his will. Michonne and Rosita talked quietly amongst themselves but that didn’t make the last two hours go by any faster.

After another hour, Michonne broke the agonizing silence, tapping on the window at a drugstore approaching, “There. That’s the place.”

Daryl pulled into the parking lot, “Everybody stay quiet. Don’t know how many walkers are crawlin’ around out here.”

As Rosita checked to make sure her guns were loaded and she had ammo on hand and Michonne grabbed a backpack, Glenn went with Daryl to look over the parking lot. Glenn headed towards the front doors though they were too dusty and clouded over to get a clear view inside the store.

“Let’s get in there,” Glenn said, “Clear the place.”

Rosita and Michonne joined the boys at the door, bracing themselves. Daryl and Glenn pushed open the sliding doors, the four of them creeping into the store. It was quiet, still. But they knew better than to trust the silence. They’d lower their guard and a horde of walkers would come out of nowhere and devour them all. They couldn’t trust anything.

They all split off into different directions, taking out the few walkers they encountered that were just wandering lazily around the drugstore, waiting for the next meal to come along. Daryl was thankful for even these few moments alone. He grabbed some canned food and some water bottles while he killed walkers. He ventured towards the bathrooms in the back of the store, shooting an arrow at a walker that was sitting on the floor, basically stuck to the wall and unable to reach him. He scoffed in disgust at the rancid odor that came from the walker. Who knows how long it had been in here.

Once the walker was dead and Daryl yanked his arrow out of its skull, there was a loud crash and what sounded like Glenn screaming for help. It sounded like he was in pain but Daryl could barely make it out. He took off running, following the sounds of Glenn shouting to the home and gardening section of the store. A walker had tackled Glenn and they both landed on top of a glass table. Blood was pooling on the linoleum floor but Daryl couldn’t tell if it was the walker’s blood or Glenn’s. The thing must’ve bit him. There was no way Glenn could be bleeding this much unless he’d been bitten. Panic hit Daryl hard as he yanked the walker off Glenn’s body.

“You bit?” Daryl demanded, grabbing Glenn by the arm. Glenn was too lost in his pain to respond immediately. Daryl gave Glenn an abrupt shake, allowing himself to let Glenn see his worry. His guard was down slightly as he repeated himself, “Glenn, look at me! Are you bit?”

“No,” Glenn replied.

“Alright, on your feet,” Daryl said. Glenn nodded, using Daryl as leverage to try and stand up but quickly fell back when he put his weight on his left leg. Daryl frowned, looking over Glenn’s body, “What’s wrong? Your leg broken?”

“No,” he groaned. Daryl looked down at Glenn’s left leg, cringing at the horrendous gash on Glenn’s outer thigh. It was bleeding profusely and Daryl had to act fast. Rosita and Michonne finally arrived to see what the commotion was and rushed to Glenn’s side.

“He can’t walk,” Daryl said, “Lift him up. Take him back to Alexandria. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What?!” Rosita exclaimed, “You’ve gotta come back with us!”

“Let’s just go,” Michonne said, “We don’t have time to argue. Might be a good idea he stays back anyway. We still need supplies.”

Daryl had shoved down his feelings of fear and panic in front of Rosita and Michonne, silently chastising himself for allowing Glenn to see it. Glenn grunted as Michonne and Rosita lifted him up and hurriedly carried him out of the store. They left behind a trail of blood drops, filling Daryl with even more guilt. Maybe he should just forget about the supplies and go with them.

No. No, he had a job to do.

Rosita stayed in the back of the truck with Glenn, taking off her flannel to tie around his leg. It was just as well, it was drenched in his blood anyway and it was starting to soak through onto her skin and the white tank top she was wearing underneath the flannel. Michonne sped down the road as fast as the truck would go. When Rosita got a good look at Glenn’s wound, she was relieved to see that the gash wasn’t too deep. He would still need stitches but they could drive the next two hours without too much worry about losing him.

“Daryl was quick to get us out of there,” Rosita muttered as she pressed down on Glenn’s leg, “You’re bleeding all over the place and all he could focus on was the run.”

“Getting those supplies is important too,” Michonne pointed out, “Glenn’s gonna be fine and that’s all that matters right now.”

Rosita and Michonne hadn’t seen the panic in Daryl’s eyes. Glenn didn’t really see that look on his friend’s face too often. Daryl was usually quick to save you and get you out without questions or comments. Maybe seeing the blood and the walker on top of him just made Daryl’s adrenaline run high. But he wasn’t as annoyed by Daryl as Rosita was. He was just thankful to be heading home to get his wound stitched up. His thigh was throbbing and he felt lightheaded but he was certain he would survive this.

Gathering supplies took up most of the afternoon. Daryl needed that time just to calm himself down. Passing by the shattered table still stained with Glenn’s blood made Daryl’s skin crawl. It made him feel pretty shitty about the way he’d behaved towards him all day long. Despite never admitting it, Glenn was his friend. They’d been elbow deep in shit together since almost the beginning. And he was such a good person but always ended up being the one to get hurt the most. How fucked up was that?

Daryl had to hurry once nighttime was approaching. He was weighed down by the backpack on his back and the duffel bag he carried in each hand and he had to find a car quick. If walkers discovered him, he wouldn’t be able to save himself. He found some first aid that Glenn for sure needed at this point. He didn’t see how bad the wound was. What if it was fatal? Had they lost Glenn on the way back to Alexandria? Goddamn, it was at least a two hour drive back even if they hauled ass. And that was assuming they didn’t run into trouble on the way there. All the horrible thoughts running through Daryl’s mind was giving him anxiety which was making it hard to focus on finding a car.

“Dammit, get it together,” Daryl grumbled to himself. He paused to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths before he completely lost it. It took a while, but he managed to convince himself that everything was fine and he just needed to worry about getting home before moving on to the next step.

After walking around the parking lot for a little while, he finally found a car that had some life left in it and thankfully had enough gas to get him home. Just like earlier that morning, the silence allowed him too much time to think and it brought him back to his thoughts of Glenn’s demise. He kept a look out for a car accident or signs of car theft or murder. He expected to find Glenn as a walker stumbling around. The closer he got to home, the worse his anxiety became. He wasn’t sure if he could hide how nervous he was in front of the group when he got back.

The sun had set completely when Daryl finally got back home. He only had his headlights to light his way in the moonless night but it didn’t slow him down even a little bit. He came to a stop in front of the gate and laid on the horn until the gate slid open way too slowly for his taste.

Rick was standing by the gate when Daryl pulled in and grabbed one of the duffel bags he’d stuffed all the medical supplies and medicines into. Before Daryl could do or say anything, Rick threw his arms around him, “Thank god you’re alright. We thought for sure you were dead.”

“Glenn dead?” Daryl asked abruptly.

Rick shook his head, “Just some stitches. He’s in the infirmary right now if you wanna see him. Might be sleeping though.”

“Just gonna drop this stuff off and be on my way,” Daryl said, jostling the bag of medical supplies. The contents inside shuffled, crinkled, and clanked together as Tara and Abraham started grabbing the other bags Daryl had left in the car. The others were so focused on that, Daryl was able to slip away to the infirmary.

Glenn was fast asleep in the bed, his left leg poking out of the blankets that covered the rest of his body. Even in his sleep, he looked miserable, most likely in some pain and blood had already soaked through his bandage. Daryl dropped the bag on the floor and dug around for some clean bandages and some medicine for the pain. He was down on one knee, so focused on finding what he needed, he didn’t see that Glenn had woken up and was watching him. Glenn sat there patiently waiting for Daryl to notice.

Daryl stood back up with bandages in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other and looked over at Glenn, expecting to have to wake him up but he jumped, startled that he was already awake, “Goddammit, Glenn. Why’d ya just sit there without sayin’ anything?”

Glenn shrugged, “I dunno. Glad to see you’re okay though. What’s that?”

“For the pain,” Daryl replied, grabbed Glenn by the wrist and placing the bottle onto his open palm, “Just take one for now and see if it helps. Pretty strong shit. I’ll get you some water.”

Glenn nodded as Daryl went over to the sink to grab a glass of water, “I never had a chance to thank you for saving me from that walker. Seriously came out of nowhere. I didn’t even realize my leg got cut until you tried to help me up.”

“Thought you were bit,” Daryl said, setting the water down on the nightstand. As Glenn popped a pain pill into his mouth and took a sip of water, Daryl lowered to his knees at the side of the bed, his fingers carefully peeling back the blood soaked bandage. Glenn hissed through his teeth but braced himself so he didn’t move too much. The skin surrounding the stitched up wound was a combination of red and purple and it was raw and angry. But whoever cleaned it and stitched him up did a good job so he just focused on rewrapping the leg.

“So did I,” Glenn said. Daryl gave Glenn a nod as he lifted his leg a little to start wrapping up the leg again. He looked troubled as he worked, like he had something on his mind. Glenn knew better than to point that out or to ask what was wrong even though his curiosity was driving him crazy.

This time, however, Glenn didn’t have to ask. Daryl spoke up, “Listen, I’m sorry I shoved you out so fast today.”

“You didn’t know how bad the wound was,” Glenn said, “Better to act fast like you did. I know you were just freaked out. It’s okay.”

“And uh…” Daryl grunted, gently laying Glenn’s leg back down on the bed, “I uh…I’m sorry I was such an asshole this morning. You didn’t deserve that.”

Glenn smiled. So, Daryl did have feelings after all, “It’s okay.”

Daryl picked the duffel bag up off the floor and set it on the counter as he headed for the door, “I’m gonna let you get some sleep then. I’ll check on ya tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t bother,” Glenn said, “You had a long day too. You should get some rest too.”

Daryl smiled a little. They both knew Daryl would be back in the infirmary at the crack of dawn to change the bandages but neither one of them said it. Daryl just nodded, “You’re a good friend, Glenn.”

This was huge. Granted, Daryl wouldn’t have done or said any of this if someone had been in the room with them and he probably never would but Glenn still knew Daryl’s words were always genuine. Glenn nodded in agreement, “You are too, Daryl.”

FRIENDSHIP GOALS…well…kinda hahaha! Thanks for the request and thanks for reading! <3 hope this came out the way you wanted :D

#The Walking Dead #TWD #The walking dead imagines #TWD Imagines #Daryl Dixon #Glenn Rhee #fanfiction #one shot #TWD fanfiction #TWD one shot #requested

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mylittlejoanie · 7 years

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Cherry Blossoms [III] - a chanyeol story

As usual, very nervous about y’all’s opinions! I can’t wait to hear what you all think. This is the longest chapter yet, I may have gotten carried away!

Part One - Part Two - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Plot: It has been four years since the love of his life let him go, and Chanyeol still hasn’t moved on. What was supposed to be a relaxing day at the beach turns to the day he’s been waiting for.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Chanyeol

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling my lashes flutter against my brow as I did. I wasn’t ready to wake up, but trains were never smooth enough to take a quality nap. I leaned my forehead against the train window and admired the view. Tall, deep green trees filled the mountains as far as my eyes could see. It had been years, possibly over a decade even, since I had stepped foot on a train. I hadn’t had any reason to; and even if I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have been allowed. I could have taken my own car, or rode in a chauffeured vehicle from the company. I would have been highly encouraged not to take the train.

But times change. People change. People get older. People choose what they want to do on their own.

And I wanted to ride the goddamn train to the beach.

I definitely had time to kill, at any rate. My life went from running at breakneck speed to a slow, lagging pace. My group hadn’t put out a comeback since last year, before Junmyeon left for his service. It hadn’t been the same without Minseok hyung, anyway. The dorm was virtually lifeless without his presence. If it had been lifeless with one member missing, it may as well be a graveyard now. Junmyeon and Baek were both serving as police officers, and Yixing was back in China, taking some time off with his family. Sehun didn’t even live at the dorms anymore; his modeling career made it impossible for him to stay. He barely had room for his clothes, let alone his three dogs. Kyungsoo was so preoccupied with his film career that he was rarely home.

It was really just me, Jongin and Jongdae. The rest? They lived there in name only.

But I love my brothers. Nothing could ever change that. Things aren’t the same as they used to be, but we aren’t kids anymore. It’s been almost ten years since we debuted, and military service is beginning to pull us apart. It isn’t very easy to find things to do to occupy yourself after your life and career come to nearly a screeching halt. I’ve gone on dates, vacations, and even taken on some acting work to fill the holes in my life. I hated silence; silence always makes me feel like I’m choking. I missed the noisy life I used to live, back when everything made sense. I’ve attempted to keep myself busy with songwriting, particularly composing and recording acoustic tracks. My solo debut wasn’t what fans were expecting; I didn’t sell out stadiums, but I had a decent following. I’ve released at least thirty songs in the last four years, for one sole purpose.

I need her to hear them.

I can still remember what it felt like when she cut my heart out of my chest. It was a physical sensation, the loss of love, the loss of part of me. It broke me in a way that I didn’t think possible. I thought we were invincible, and I didn’t think that forever was supposed to have an end. I recalled how it took every ounce of willpower I had to stop myself from getting on my knees and begging her to give me a second chance to be who she deserved. We had promised to stay friends, but the idea of being only a friend to the person who held my heart, and my life in her very hands was beyond painful; it was unbearable.

So I gave us both space, a year’s worth. I remember her texting her on her birthday, only to discover that she had changed her number. She moved away from her apartment. Our apartment. I stopped seeing glimpses of her stunning face when we crossed paths on our daily commute. I had no idea where she was, or how she was doing.

But I couldn’t forget her.

I don’t want to forget her.

How is it possible for someone to forget the love of their life? How is it possible to forget the reason why my heart still aches? I’ve loved her since I was fourteen years old, literally half of my life. I spent years sneaking out of the dorms at night just to call her and tell her that I love her. Idols never sleep, and I slept even less than the typical idol. I didn’t want to waste a second of my time not being with her, breathing in her scent and holding her close. After I debuted, I did what I could to keep us adrift. I didn’t want what we had to fade, even though I felt her slipping away from me with every day that passed. There were so many days that I would be backstage, listening to a voicemail from her and choking back sobs as I heard her heartbroken voice pour through my phone speaker. I had to go back on stage and paste a smile on my face, because I owed it to the fans. I had to be present for them, if I couldn’t be present for her. I couldn’t be enough for her, and I lost the only thing that made me happier than making music with my best friends. Now, I write song after song for her, trying my best to channel my still deep love for her into every single verse. I have spent sleepless nights playing my guitar until my fingers burn, ensuring that my feelings flowed through every note. I needed her to hear them, needed her to know how sorry I was for causing her heartache. I felt that ache, knew what it was like to shed tears over someone who wasn’t coming back. And I needed her to know that I regretted every second I had lost with her.

I wasn’t myself, and I hadn’t been for four years. There was no way I could possibly be Park Chanyeol without her. I shook my head bitterly as I reminded myself that I didn’t deserve to call her my soulmate now. I had taken her for granted, ignored tearful voicemails, and broken more promises than I could even count. The virtually stagnant pace of my life had made these thoughts ever-present, in a way that they hadn’t been in years past. I had started writing songs for her as an outlet for my love, a way to express what I couldn’t. But the last few songs have been desperate, practically pleading with myself to let go.

Maybe one day I could. Maybe I already am.

I took my first ever day off from songwriting today. I hadn’t slept in two days, and I was beginning to have unusually vivid dreams of her face. I needed to shake off the perpetual despair that had been hanging over me for years, casting even the most positive aspects of my life in shadows. Minseok was home, and he wanted a day at the beach. Who was I to deny him that?

The train slowed to a steady crawl, and I saw him before the wheels came to a full stop. His hair was shorter than I had ever seen it, but that smile was the same. Once the train doors slid open, I jumped off the platform eagerly and wrapped my hyung into a hug. I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed him, and how much I missed all of us being together.

“Minseok-ah. Welcome home!” We pulled away from our hug and just stared at each other, wondering where to begin after two years apart. “Chanyeol, I’m fucking starving and I’m desperate for beer and chicken. Let’s go.”

It was a five minute drive to the beach from the Busan train station. We sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. We found a chimek restaurant close to the beach, close enough to see the waves and smell the ocean air mingling with the smell of crispy, spicy chicken.We talked as we ate; catching up on things we’d both missed. I lazily gazed out the window as I listened to Minseok’s excited speech, wondering whether we should head to the beach before the sun went down. After all, this was my day off. I felt lighter somehow, feeling the ever-present weight on my shoulders just a little less.

Something, someone caught my eye. A small figure in the distance with hair so long and so shiny, it captured the sun’s rays and glimmered in them. Her hair blew in the breeze, and I was instantly taken back to days of cherry blossoms and laughter, and that same beautiful hair entwined in my fingers.

Suddenly, I wasn’t sitting in a chicken restaurant, making up for lost time with a friend I’ve known for nearly all of my life. I felt myself stand up without being entirely conscious of my movements. My legs carried me up and out the door of the building. I tuned out Minseok’s frantic shouting and ran, ran until my heart was pounding in my chest and my breathing became ragged.

I could hardly believe that I had found her, after all of these years of waiting, hoping, and wishing she would waltz back into my life.

I quietly whispered her name, and saw her shoulders tense up. Slowly, way too slowly, she turned around. I drank in every detail of her face, noticed the fine lines under her eyes, and saw the glow in her skin. I could have stood there for hours, and it would have felt like one minute. We were standing there, together, while time stood still. Did she want to escape, run away from me like she did before? Or did she feel rooted to her spot like I did? Everything was moving so fast around us, and yet no one was there but her. I couldn’t read her, but why should I have been able to? I didn’t know who she was or what she had been through after our years and months apart.

I saw a flicker of light out of the corner of my eye, and it drew my gaze. Instantly, I wished I hadn’t looked. My heart skipped a beat; the breath leached from my lungs.

So she did find her forever.

I had always known she would.

#chanyeol angst #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #park chanyeol #chan #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo fanfics #exo angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop angst

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fiercyy · 7 years

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Till Death Chapter 1/?

Co-authored by @holyfuckabear

This fic began as a bitchfest between me and B. It morphed into an actual story, with plot, characters and world building. Go figure. With only mild disrespect to Kubo’s vision, we present a reimagining of Bleach.

@ichirukimonth for the prompt Agent of the Shinigami + Soul Society Arc: Chapter/Episode Tag

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki has become a superhero overnight. This entails a lot more oversight than he was lead to believe there would be. Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hellbent on bossing him around?

(For the record: yes.)

A canon rewrite fic.

AO3

Spring is supposed to be a time for new beginnings. Plants peak out of the earth, cherry blossoms fall, a new school year begins and it rains every other goddamn day.

Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki hates the rain. It makes his skin itch and his hands clammy. The worst days of his life are tied to drenched shoulders and tears mixing with rainwater. When it rains, more than one kind of ghost comes out to roam. And ghosts have a way of finding Ichigo.

Ichigo is about to learn a little more about the world. From here on out, everything changes. But for today, he feels...

Amazing. It’s the only word to describe it. There is a rhythm to fighting that Rukia cannot replicate in melody. She hums as she attacks. Her legs step to an unheard beat as she flies to and fro, perplexing the dumb creature. It roars and her heart does an internal aria.

Rukia has always been meant to do this. Most days she thinks it’s the only thing she does well. Hollow, merely a whisper in the wind now, she turns to the frightened spirit crouching by the mailbox and thinks, well, maybe not the only thing.

She is not a nurturing woman by nature, but she does what she can to soothe him. Rukia likes the feeling of heavy hands on her head, fingers ruffling her hair, memories of a bygone age. So, she does this for the child-spirit. He seems to take comfort before she releases him to the next life. She hopes that he will not be hungry. She wishes him weakness. Rukia looks up and around her when it’s done. The humans mill around, none the wiser for having narrowly escaped a soul-sucking death. For a moment, she thinks she makes eye-contact with a bearded man in a white coat and quickly realizes that she imagined it. His eyes skip over her and he continues his stroll down the street She has been in Karakura for a week. It isn’t loneliness per se but she feels distinctly invisible. Her voice has started to hoarse from disuse. That’s why she started singing to herself as she fights. No one can hear her anyway, who would mind?

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo squints as he stares into the sun. “What are you looking at?” asks Tatsuki, around a mouthful of kebab. He blinks to adjust his eyes and shakes his head, trying to shake off the strange feeling of being watched. “Nothing.” There was no black butterfly on the horizon. There was no one atop the telephone pole. He’s just tired. That’s what he tells himself.

Ichigo tells himself a lot of things. Especially these days.

That is to say, it looks like he’s talking to himself. Like. All the time.

What he’s really doing is chatting with the weird old cat lady spirit who refuses to leave until the last of her cats are adopted from the pound. Despite the fact that they ate her corpse. He knows this detail because she tells him every time he passes the shelter.

Sometimes it’s not Mrs. Hojou, but Mina, who is creepily keeping her eye on her ex, who moved on too quickly for her tastes.

More often than not it’s Mr. Agano. Ichigo doesn’t know what his deal is but he seems lonely and spends every Tuesday following him around. He learns very quickly to schedule things that require concentration on any other day.

Ichigo works his life around the drifting strangers who can’t seem to leave him alone.

This is how he notices that something is amiss.

He spends next Tuesday alone.

Raito, the teenaged boy who lives beside the river is gone too.

The ghosts of Karakura Town have slowly begun to disappear.

It takes him weeks to realize why.

Someone is singing. It’s a song that’s been playing on every radio lately and god is he sick of it. Whoever it is, she’s basically screaming it between grunts.

Ichigo rounds the corner and sees her. And it.

Holy shit.

A fucking monster the size of a city block is snapping its jaws at the ghost who he brings flowers to. The white of its mask is stark against the clear blue sky. Its black leathery body moves with speed that belies its size.

Between Ichigo and the beast is a girl.

She leaps out of the way just in time to avoid the monster’s fist come down and leave a crater in the ground. She does a backflip over it, draws her sword and HOLY SHIT DID SHE JUST FUCKING FLY?

Wait. Stop. Rewind.

This is the moment that Ichigo Kurosaki’s life changes forever.

Rukia Kuchiki is 4”10, pale as seafoam and as deadly as anything he’s ever seen. And she is singing about love and bunnies at the top of her freaking lungs.

This is fate, but he doesn’t know that yet.

With a slice of her katana (?!?!?) the thing is neutralized. She is still singing.

Ichigo is mildly aware that he is gaping. He looks around to see if anyone’s around, if anyone else is staring. There are, but none of them have so much as fliched. Well, he supposes that he’s used to seeing things at this point.

It is in this moment that Rukia looks up and the tune ends. Her brows furrow as if squinting into the distance. Their eyes meet and Ichigo remains frozen in place. She opens her mouth as if to say something but a roar cuts through the air.

And then she’s gone, as if blurring out of existence.

Huh.

That. was. weird.

Ichigo arrives home to a kick in the face. Literally.

“Where the hell have you been?!” His father demands, putting him in a headlock.

“I ran into some ghosts okay? What the hell was I supposed to do?!”

“Oh, so it’s the ghosts’ faults huh? I bet it’s a ghost’s fault that your room is a mess, huh?”

While they shout each other down, the two girls at the table sigh simultaneously. Karin, the younger one, spoons more rice into her bowl and pretends she can’t hear them. Karin pretends that she can’t hear a lot of things.

“You’ve got another one Ichigo,” she mutters.

“Huh?” an older gentleman appears over Ichigo’s shoulder. “When the hell did you get here?” He tries to wave him away. He’s done with spirits for the day, thank you very much.

“I wish I could see spirits,” sighs Yuzu, “I mean, I can feel them sometimes but-”

Karin is kind of glad she cant. “I’m not even sure they exist.”

“How can that be? Can’t you see them too?”

“I’m in permanent denial. Just because I can see them, doesn’t mean I believe in them.”

Here’s the thing about breaking and entering. It doesn’t count unless someone sees you.

And no one in Karakura Town can see her.

Rukia has developed a kind of selective hearing. She moves through the world of the living while ignoring the living. In the beginning, she’d look up if it sounded like someone was talking to her, but no one ever was. Slowly it got easier to tune it all out.

It’s been peaceful. The 13th division is so loud. And it’s a different kind of quiet than the Kuchiki mansion.

So when she walks through the wall and lands in the middle of a bedroom that smells like dirty socks and cologne, the last thing she expects is to literally have her ass kicked.

“How strange. You look normal, but you must be defective in some way,” she remarks while examining him like a specimen on a slab in Squad 12.

“I’ll show you defective!”

Rukia tries, she really does. Humans are very strange and this one is not very receptive to simple explanations. Are they all slow, or is it just this one?

And then he touches her hair and ohhhhh was that a mistake.

“Bakudo #1, SAI!”

“What the hell did you do to me?!”

“Don’t struggle, it’ll make it worse. I might appear young to you but I have lived nearly 10 of your lifetimes. I would kill you on the spot if it weren’t against my orders,” a lie, but on some level she thought it might be fun to rattle this one. “Now shut up, you little brat.”

It’s only after she brings the hilt of her sword down on the wayward spirit that she realizes she’d scared the human. She feels bad for a moment but presses on.

“Now, for why I’m here. I’ll explain using small words.”

And maybe some informative drawings.

So you know those days, that change your whole life?

Ichigo Kurosaki is having one of those days; a terrible one.

His hands are free from the kidou but he’s still helpless. Yuzu is unconscious in the house somewhere, Karin is unmoving in his arms and this tiny woman who sings bad pop songs while she fights is dodging around the grappling fists of what she calls a hollow.

The hollow had said that it wanted his soul. It was looking for him, all this time. He brought flowers to a ghost and that made her a target. This thing has been following him all this time, but why?

The same reason it took Karin but not Yuzu; they can see it. Something deep inside them calls out to these creatures. Like a dinner bell.

The hollow grazes the shinigami’s side just as she gets what looks like a critical hit. She skids across the street as she falls.

Intellectually, Ichigo has seen what she can do. She might as well leap tall buildings in a single bound. But she’s so small, and every instinct he has tells him that makes her someone he should be protecting.

Ichigo glances around for a weapon. To his right there’s a folding chair from the clinic. He picks it up and darts over to the beast. Maybe he can distract it, maybe he can help.

He knows he can’t, but maybe if it takes him it’ll leave his sisters alone. “HEY!” he shouts, “You want me? Come and get me!”

The hollow obliges.

So does Rukia, although, less happily.

She disappears from behind the creature and reappears in front of him, just in time for the monster’s jaws to clamp around her and her sword, instead of him.

“You idiot!” she shouts in pain.

He feels blood on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about this, but it’s surprisingly warm. He didn’t think a goddess would bleed.

With a surge of strength, the girl shoves the hollow back. It has a large crack down the center of its bone white face. She clutches at her wound and crawls to lean against the crumbling wall of the clinic.

“Oh I am going to kill you when this is over,” she promises with a wet laugh.

“Go ahead and try,” he jokes. He’s trying to stop the bleeding but his hands aren’t big enough.

The hollow looms.

Her sword clatters to the floor beside her. Ichigo dives to pick it up. His right-hand wraps around the grip. It’s surprisingly cold. It chills him to his bones. He tries to lift it up to defend them from the advancing monster but it’s too heavy. He physically cannot budge it and the more he tries, the colder the sword becomes; until it burns.

“Ichigo, do you want to save your family?”

As she says his name, he realizes that he doesn’t know hers.

“Shinigami-”

“Rukia, my name is Rukia,” she sighs and looks at the hollow, still trying to recover. “Will you do whatever it takes?”

“I’d do anything.”

“Then you’re going to have to trust me. I’m sorry.”

And then.

The pain radiates out from his chest, into every nerve ending. But it’s the sweet kind of pain that builds to a crescendo and releases with a breath.

Black robes swirl around him. In his hands is a sword.

Somehow he knows exactly what to do.

In the morning he wonders if he dreamed the whole thing.

But then she appears in homeroom.

His classmates’ chatter turns into a faint buzzing in his ears as he looks down at her. Her voice is saccharine, she bats impossibly thick eyelashes. With her slight form and girlish voice, she looks harmless, introducing herself to the boys using outdated and formal Japanese.

The illusion is shattered by a glance at the palm she’s held out to him. Smeared already, black ink spells out:

‘Make a scene and you’re dead :)’

Charming.

His lips form around the word, “You.”

Her smile is sinister.

Notes:

Here is a list of some changes you can expect from this reboot:

Rewriting the rules of the universe so they’re consistent and make sense.

Ichiruki

Ichigo’s family backstory is different

Aging up the characters a little, they’re now 17 at the beginning of the series.

The gang’s dynamics are going to change and include Tatsuki

Speaking of Tatsuki, the characters who really should have had some spotlight are going to get some.

We’re culling the cast of thousands so it’s manageable.

Stakes

By this we mean rising action, realistic powerups, and escalation that does not get out of control.

Rukia gets the goddamn arc she deserves.

Reducing the length of and amount of fight sequences.

Soul Society is basically completely different, don’t worry Ichigo will be the layman and Rukia, your exposition fairy. JUST LIKE CANON!

REAL SORRY IF YOU LIKE KON SUCKERS

#ichiruki month #ichiruki #bleach #ichiruki fanfic #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #canon rewrite #salt of the earth #till death verse #till death #chapter 1 #my fic

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zephyroh · 7 years

Text

i got you (please don’t let go of me)

it’s 4am again and im having feeling about jason scott again

Read on AO3

-----

There was something wrong.

Jason couldn’t put his finger on what, but there was something not right. He felt uneasy. Like his body was trying to tell him something. He was lying in his bed – his window always opened ever since the night at the mine in because his friends had taken the habit of coming to his room whenever they wanted, usually when they needed company or comfort.

He remembered the day Pearl was born - he looked at her with wonder in his eyes, holding her tightly in his arms. He heard her laugh, and saw stars in her eyes, and vowed to himself to be the best brother in the world. Just like in the movies. He had wanted to be a superhero for her, before actually becoming one. And now he had added four persons to protect in that oath. He was, in some ways, a big brother to his team – “more like the mom friend”, had said Zack laughing one day.

He usually felt them coming, before seeing them. In was an unshakable feeling in his body, in his bone, and when they were feeling bad, it was like something was out of place. Like something in the universe had shifted, was out of balance, and he couldn’t rest until he fixed it. Like those night after an argument with his father where Pearl came to his room crying because he didn’t want them to fight, and he couldn’t sleep before reassuring her. Going to sleep knowing his baby sister was unwell was impossible. Just like if one of his teammates was having a hard time.

This night was one of those night.

He felt like crying. He felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to scream at the world, but could only lie immobile, staring at the ceiling. He could only hear the soft sound of the wind gently passing through his curtains. The light of the moon was shielded by clouds, and the only other source of light was coming from his digital alarm clock on his night stand.

4:48, it read.

The silence was almost maddening.

He waited for the familiar sound of Kimberly’s heel hitting the frame of his window. Or a pebble hitting the wall because Zack found it hilarious to throw rocks at his window even though he knew it was open. Or the soft “You up?” that Trini whispered, always afraid to wake him up. Or the sound of metal and cable in Billy’s backpack when he didn’t want to work on a project alone.

But nothing came.

It was a month after they saved Angel Grove – or the world actually – and it was the tenth night he couldn’t sleep, not knowing why.

Some night he just couldn’t get asleep.

Some night he woke up soaking with sweat, bones trembling, dread in his heart, and a scream stuck in his throat.

-----

“Jas, you need to close your eyes if you want sleep.”

Jason blinked three time, shaking his head. He looked at the coffee machine in front of him, who had already stopped pouring coffee into his mug two minutes ago, before shifting his gaze to the little human being beside him.

Pearl was standing next to him with wide open eyes and such an innocent look on her face he couldn’t help the found smile growing on his lips.

“Why are you saying that, P?” The girl frowned and pouted at the surname while Jason smirked. “I don’t wanna be pee!”, she had cried out, horrified, the first time he called her that – and he never did stop after because her reactions where adorable.

“You wasn’t moving, like when you sleep, but with your eyes open. You have to close them.”, she answered matter-of-factly. He let out an amused laugh as his heart swelled.

“Thank you, I’ll think of that next time.”

He smothered a yawn and rubbed his tired eyes. The day was going to be long, he thought as he brought the coffee mug to his lips.

-----

He felt like he was functioning in slow motion. Even superhero powers didn’t compensate sleep deprivation. He almost arrived late for his first class after taking too much time to prepare in the morning, and cursed himself for missing his friends before class. They would usually gang up at Billy’s locker before going their own way.

He couldn’t concentrate. The only remaining seat when he arrived was the one by the window in one of the rows at the back of the class – the perfect spot to not listen one word of what the teacher was saying and just daydream. His chin in his hand, he started dozing off, regularly jerking awake when his brain was warning him he was falling asleep.

The guilt of not listening to the class – history, the only one he actually liked – started creeping on him. He just couldn’t wait for the day to be over. He hadn’t had such a horrible day since the Power Rangers thing. Before that, he was used to waking up hating everything, and endure the day until he could come back to bed. But he hadn’t feel this way again, until now. He was not thrilled to remembered was it was like.

After two hours of pure torture, he speeded out of he classroom, eager to join his teammates. He walked into the cafeteria, mentally insulting everyone. They were making so much goddamn noise. He was definitely too tired and not caffeinated enough to deal with that.

He quickly spotted his squad at their usual spot. He felt his mood lighten up was he saw Trini and Zack fighting over their food trails while Kim was smirking and throwing crumbs of bread at them, and Billy was carefully sorting his food by colors, probably occasionally commenting on how it would be physically impossible for Trini to fit an entire bus up Zack’s bottom, and therefore pointless to try or even threaten to.

He sat in front of him, automatically putting his apple on Billy’s trail. It was his favorite fruit, and Jason was always too happy to give up his just to see Billy excitedly clap his hands. Today however, Billy merely looked up to him and thanked him, giving him a small smile, before returning to his food. Jason didn’t miss the dark circle under his eyes, and understood that he wasn’t the only one with sleep problems.

He frowned and his body only tensed more. The feeling of the night before, shaking his bones to the core, was back.

“You alright, farmboy?” Jason slightly rolled his eyes at Trini’s nickname she found for him after he told them the whole story about the cow in the locker. “You do dress up a bit like Clark Kent”, she had argued.

He felt his heart warm up at the sight of four concerned looks directed at him when he lifted his head from his food.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night, but I’ll be fine”, he answered with a tired smile. They nodded in agreement, and Trini gave him an understanding smile, looking at him intensely like she was trying to communicate with him telepathically. “I feel you”, he though she was trying to say. He nodded back, knowing it was her own way of expressing herself. Not with words, but it was just as well.

He felt kind of guilty for worrying them. He was used to be the one worrying about them. He liked that role, he wanted to care of them, and hated feeling this low and miserable.

The sound of the school bell felt like a blow in the stomach. Here we go again, for four more hours. While the others started hurryingly picking up their stuff, Jason was feeling out of it. Like in another dimension, like he was out of tune with the world. There but not quite there. He forced himself to move, trying to keep up with the rest of the student body. He saw Zack waving and blowing kisses at them, heading for the exit, and Jason knew he had decided to skip class today. Kim was teasing Trini, pulling down her beanie on her eyes as the tiny girl was feigning being mad, while they were headed to their Biology class.

Without even thinking about it, he launched himself forward, elbowing a few students as he spotted the back of Billy’s head in the crowd. He caught up to him as Billy was opening his locker. Jason smiled at the sight of the inside of it. Pictures of the five of them together, a flyer of Krispy Kreme, five tiny dinosaurs toy and carefully scotched in the back, a crumbled-up piece of paper reading “we should start a band”.

“Are you alright, Billy? You look as tired as me, and that’s not good news.”

“Jason.”, the boy acknowledges him, looking at him straight in the eyes. Jason wondered if it was the lack of sleep or the amount of caffeine he had ingested, but his heart twitched at this moment. “I’m just having a few nightmares recently. Of Rita… but it’s alright, I’m okay.”

The red ranger suddenly felt powerless at the sight of Billy’s tired – and somewhat resigned – smile. Jason wished so hard he could make all his problems go away, because Billy Cranston should never feel sad about anything in his life, ever. He was too good for this shitty world, and Jason wanted so much to protect him from it.

Billy seemed to notice the former quarterback’s sorrow, because before Jason could register what was happening, Billy was ruffling his hair.

Everything seemed to stop for Jason, even his heart. He only managed to tilt his head to the side with a questioning look on his faces, mouth half open but not trusting his vocal cords to actually be able to function at this moment.

Then Billy smiled his pure, angel-like smile, and everything momentarily felt right in the world.

“I’m cheering you up!”, he explained. “Kim does that to me when I’m feeling low, so I’m doing it to you. Zack usually makes a lot of bad jokes and then explains them to me, but I don’t know as many as him, and you know I’m not really good at jokes anyway. And Trini, she brings me food, but I don’t have any snacks on me. Besides, we just ate so it would be pointless to give you more food right now. Should have I not done that?” Billy suddenly looked worried, like he made a mistake – he was always too self-conscious even around the team, always afraid to be “weird”, as if the squad would ever feel weirded out by him.

Jason immediately snapped out of his dazed state to reassure the boy. “No! No, no absolutely not, I- it was good- well, it’s alright. You did good. It worked”, he stuttered, and it never felt this complicated to get coherent words out of his mouth.

Billy shot him a glowing smile, exuding pride because he managed to lighten up Jason’s mood, and the red ranger felt like he could breathe a little bit better, and the world was a little more colorful than this morning.

-----

Jason stared at the sharp, red inked letter in front of him. He stared so long it felt like the letter was floating on the blank piece of the page he was holding.

He blinked. And blinked again. And stupidly pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and regretted it immediately afterwards. He tended to forget about his superhero strength from time to time.

The classroom was buzzing around him, student putting their books in their bag, pulling chairs, talking and laughing loudly. But Jason couldn’t move.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and lifted his head to see his teacher looking at him with a small smile.

“I’m proud of you, Jason. You really did improve. Keep up the good work.”

His eyes dropped again at the paper.

He got an A. At a math test. Him. Jason Scott. Jason Scott, who was only good at football. Jason Scott, whom only shot at having a future was a sport scholarship at a local university. Jason Scott who was constantly failing his class, and felt to depressed to even try to study. Jason freaking Scott.

He had to show it to the team.

They were all pretty good students, even Zack when he bothered to show up, and prepared a study plan for Jason when he told them, ashamed, that he wasn’t even sure he’d graduate. Without question nor his opinion on the matter, they immediately organized study sessions in between training sessions, and before long, Jason learned the pleasure of learning.

Trini helped him mostly in English, but never with the others present. She just showed up one day in his room with the reading assignment of the semester in her hands. And after an hour, Jason learned that Trini loved literature and poetry – she actually wrote some, but threatened to slit his throat if he ever mentioned it to the others, especially Kimberly who would never stop teasing her about it, and Jason still remembered the feeling of fright in his heart in front of her dead serious face. He never heard her talk as much as when she was passionately explaining the meaning of some obscure figure of style the author of the book used, and why he used it. “It’s easier to express fictional people’s feelings than my own.”, she admitted once.

Zack’s subject of predilection was physics, and he liked to dress up as old famous physician as he was moving around, his arms flipping around, talking with animation trying to explain the laws of physics to Jason, occasionally throwing apples at his head screaming “Eureka!”.

For biology it was Kim who was his assigned tutor. She wasn’t much of a pedagogue, but she had a way of vulgarizing complex mechanism about DNA and cells with simple words that made sense to Jason. They actually both hated it, but going through it together made things better and easier.

As for math… It has always been Jason’s worst nightmare. His parents had tried to get him private lesson before giving up, seeing that there was no results. Not matter how hard he tried, how long he could tire his eyes on an exercise, nothing made sense to him.

But then Billy came along. It came so naturally to the boy, he made it look easy. And the blue ranger loved that he could monologue as long as he wanted about math, Jason would never complain. When Billy noticed there was something Jason wasn’t getting, he tried to explain it in another way, and in another if it was still not enough, again and again until Jason understood. Step by step, Jason started to catch up on his lacunas, and God knew there was a long way to go.

Until this day. Because this day, his efforts were rewarded, and he owed it all to his friends.

He jolted out of his seat, suddenly filled with energy. He almost ran up the hallway leading to Billy’s locker, which Zack was already leaning against. He strode swiftly to reach up the boys and planted himself in front of Billy.

“I’m going to hug you now.”, he announced. “Is that okay?”

Billy nodded, a bit surprised and confused, but relaxed as soon as he felt Jason arms around him. Jason knew he was still getting used to physical contact. The red ranger tilted his head to press Billy’s body even harder against him and his nose ended up grazing the boy’s neck for a slipt of a second. As he felt Billy shudder, he released his grasp, fearing that it was too much for Billy. But as they separated, the other boy seemed fine, even happy if not still confused.

Jason realized he was staring a bit too long at Billy’s dark brown eyes when Zack’s voice startled him.

“Hey, man, I want some love too!”, he joked, and Jason hoped he didn’t notice the redness of his cheeks. “Why so sappy?”.

Jason brandished the paper he was still holding in his hand, harboring a proud smile. As Zack took in the information, a similar smile appeared on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s awesome dude! You’re a genius now”. He put his arms around Jason for a quick hug, patting firmly the red ranger’s back.

A confused Billy appeared near Zack, countersigning his neck to look at the paper, and his eyes grew wide with excitement when the saw the “A” at the top of the paper. He started hoping around, clapping his hand and laughing excitedly.

“Something to celebrate?” Kim’s voice came from behind Jason. He spun on his heels, with a wide grin still on his face as her and Trini – the two always looked like they were joined by the hip – raised their eyebrows.

He answered simply,

“Billy turned me into a math genius!”

-----

Jason sighed heavily. Then let out a groan. Then slammed his fit against his mattress out of frustration.

3:27. The glowing, dimmed light of his alarmed clock seemed to be mocking him.

He felt the impulse to throw it against the wall, then decided against it out of fear of waking up his little sister. But he just wanted to break something.

Exhaling slowly, he tried to relax his fist, then the muscles of his forearms, then his entire body. He concentrated as he remembered Trini’s words when she was teaching him yoga one night, at the top of a cliff near the mine.

“Focus on your breathing and the beating of your heart. The more you think about that, the less you think about everything else.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jason noticed his mind had already started to wander off, and he felt himself giving up. Shooting a glance at the time, a deep sense of despair crushed him as his saw the red numbers.

3:51.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

He clenched his jaw and pressed his palm against his forehead where drips of sweat were starting to form.

Instinctively, he took his phone, which was resting on the nightstand, in his hand. He paused for a second, staring at the numerous apps on the screen – which was at the lowest setting of luminosity but still hurt his eyes – decided what he wanted to do.

Trying to ignore the feeling carved in his gut, he opened his text messages. Without thinking, he just followed his impulse, and tapped on one of the conversation.

“Hey, you up?”

After five minutes of silence from his phone, he stared at the name of the contact one last time. Billy Boy.

He felt empty as he put down the phone next to him, then turned around in his bed.

-----

When he woke up, tears were burning his eyes, and he didn’t know if his heart was crushed in his chest or if he wanted to rip it out of his ribcage himself.

It took him three whole minutes for his limbs to stop shaking, and five for the sobbing to cease.

Even though he was sure he knew exactly why he was crying when he woke up, the memories were already starting to fade away. The feeling of frustration was almost too unbearable.

Blue lips. A still body, too still. Rigid. Numbness. Clouns in his mind.

He clenched his eyes shut just and let out a whimper.

Weight in his arms. A loud thump on wood. Rope gliding through metal.

Tears were running down his face again and he hugged his knees tightly against his chest.

Electricity. The rope stopping abruptly. Opened eyes, but a blank, lifeless look.

Jason buried his head in his arms.

Billy was alright. Billy was alive. It was just a nightmare. Billy was fine. Billy was alive.

He repeated those words like a mantra In his head until his body finally calmed down.

The clock was now reading 5:05.

Wiping his tears with the blanket, he mechanically reached out for his phone again. His heart skipped a bit when he pressed the button to light up his screen. Billy Boy.

He fumbled on his phone, trying to unlock it as fast as he could.

“Yes, bad dream again ☹ Why? Everything alright?” Send forty-five minutes after his own text. He cursed himself for having missed it, for not having been there for Billy when he woke up from his own nightmare.

“I just couldn’t sleep…”, he texted back. As he was hesitating to elaborate, to explain that his first instinct was to reach out to Billy, the sight of three jumping dots made his heart race. Before he could do anything – strangely his first impulse was to throw the phone away – another text popped up.

“Seems like you still can’t :p”, immediately followed by the dots again. Jason waited patiently, smiling softly at the emojis Billy loved to use and sometimes, overuse.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be mean. It sounded mean. I was thinking: “what would Zack say in this situation?” Was it mean?”

“It’s alright, don’t worry 😊 I had a nightmare too, just woke up.”, he replied.

He suddenly felt a little bit better, imagining Billy’s rambling voice in his head. Relaxing, he waited again while Billy was typing… only to nearly choke on his saliva when the words appeared in front of his eyes.

“Maybe next time we should sleep together!”

Jason froze on the spot, forgetting to even breathe and he read the text three times to make sure his eyes were not playing games with him.

“That way we won’t be alone having bad dreams :p”

Air slithered back into his lungs, and Jason refused to acknowledge to himself that he was blushing.

And this moment, the thoughts keeping him from sleeping were all kind of different from the ones before.

-----

Jason mentally cursed himself when he greeted Billy and a blush crept onto his face ; Billy didn’t make it any easier for the red ranger when he didn’t stop when approaching Jason, and rather wrapped his arms around him. He only had his reflex to thank when he reciprocated the hug on auto-pilot, because his mind was racing, and his body was feeling too much all at once.

“Wh-what that for?”, Jason managed to get out, trying his best not to sound weird – and probably failing.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday. I actually did sleep much better after we talked, or rather texted. Well, even though it was for a short time because it was early. But I feel better than yesterday.”, Billy exclaimed, smiling happily. “Jason, are you okay? You look weird? Did you not sleep at all after?”.

“Yeah, no, I did actually. I’m-“. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearing his throat, avoiding Billy’s eyes as he pushed back the thoughts he had this morning in the back of his mind. “I’m good.”, he added, finally meeting his friend gaze.

Then without thinking, Jason saw his hand raise itself to land on Billy’s head, gently ruffling the boy’s hair. Realizing what he was doing, Jason froze as his eyes widened. He was starting to positively panic when Billy merely tilted his head, confused look on his face, not embarrassed in the least.

“Don’t worry, I’m not sad, Jason. I just told you, I’m really feeling better.”

-----

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting off for a couple of days now.”

Jason jumped in his seat as a pile a book loudly landed on the table, right in front of him. Kim promptly dropped herself unceremoniously in the seat next to him, crossing her arms, a serious yet concerned look on her face.

Jason sighed. He knew pretending would be useless with Kimberly. She was too perceptive for that.

“I- I don’t know actually.”, he answered, waving his arms around to illustrate his words. “I’m just either having horrible nightmares or I have insomnias.”

He turned to face her and was surprised to meet a raised, unimpressed eyebrow. She was expecting something else. She blankly started at him as seconds passed by, apparently not intending to speak, nor letting him off the hook.

“… Okay fine, there’s maybe something else.” A satisfied smirk grew on her lips. He cursed her under his breath. “Never become a shrink, you’d be horrible.”

He swallowed his saliva with difficulty, trying to make sense of the turmoil in his mind.

“I’m having weird feelings… about Billy.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulder. Like the blinds were suddenly opening in a dark room and light was coming through. Like a dam had just exploded and water was flowing through. “I keep seeing him dead in my dream, Kim. I just can’t erase the imagine of him just- lying there, on the dock, not breathing. So, when we’re together, I just- It’s like I constantly want to make sure he’s alive, that’s he’s here with us. I’m always catching myself looking him out, like when I walk into a room I automatically look for him. It’s like I don’t want to get him out of my sight. Wow, that’s sounded creepy, didn’t it? But then, there’s sometimes the way he smiles to me, or talks to me, or looks at me, or just is- It’s weird, I don’t know how to describe the feeling…”

The words kept pouring out of his lips like he couldn’t stop them. Kim’s simple, knowing smile made him feel better, and something in her eyes just made him realize. It dawned on him harder than the train hit them that night.

“Is that- Is that how you feel about Trini?”

And the pink ranger simply nods, smiling ever so calmly. She didn’t say a word, and didn’t have to. Jason just had to figure it out by himself, he just needed a push.

He just sat there a while, mouth opened and jaw hanging low – he knew he probably looked like an idiot but there was too much on his mind for him to care. After a while, Kim finally spoke out, putting a gently hand on his arms, squeezing it.

“You almost lost him. Well, you actually did lose him for a while. It’s normal if you’re a mess. It’s okay. Just talk to him about it.

And that was just about the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard.

-----

Jason couldn’t sleep.

Again.

But this time was different. He was just restless, thinking, pacing around his room, sometimes picking up his phone, staring at it for a second before putting it down. And repeating the process all over again.

He had to jump off the cliff. He had to talk to Billy. But it was easier to agree with Kim than to actually do it.

He sat on his bed with vigor, taking a deep breath, taking the small object into his hand. His heart throbbing in his chest, he looked intensely at the black screen… which lighted up as the phone vibrated.

Billy Boy.

As panic ran through his veins; he let out a shrill scream and impulsively throwed his phone on the pillows across the bed.

Rolling his eyes at his own reaction, he picked up the phone again to answer the text.

“I’m afraid to fall asleep. Can I come over?”

Once again, Jason froze. Then laughed nervously. And started to hyperventilate a bit.

As his fingered were slightly trembling, he typed “Of course, the window is always open!”, trying to figure out if it sounded chill enough.

He was actively trying to calm his heart beating loudly in his chest when Billy came through the window, landing carefully next to Jason’s bed – who couldn’t hold a found smile when he saw Billy’s batman pajamas.

The blue ranger put down his bag before hoping into Jason’s bed, immediately rolling the covers around him. He breathed in deeply before casually saying “Thank you, Jason. Your smell always calms me down. That’s why I take some of your shirts sometimes. But I’ll give them back, I’m not a thief don’t worry. “

Jason wondered if Billy was in fact actively trying to kill him, or if he was just oblivious to the effect he had on the red ranger. He also wondered if the boy could see, despite the darkness, that he was as red as his armor in this very moment.

“Of course, anytime you need”, and his voice sounded a bit off to his ears.

As Billy was making himself comfortable, Jason thought he was never going to get sleep. And at his grand surprise, he actually did start to feel himself slip into slumber when he closed his eyes, feeling the heat emanating from Billy’s body next to him, listening to the boy’s calm breathing, his own body relaxing.

-----

It was either the hands shaking his shoulder or the voice in his ears that woke up him.

He had that same feeling of panic in his chest than that night.

He was covered in sweat, body shaking and he felt the cold air hitting his damped cheeks. But then…

Warms palm running through his back, his forearms. A soft voice whispering calming words. Then hands on his hair, across his cheeks, and on his back again.

“It’s okay, Jason. It was just a dream. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Jason’s body relaxed all at once, crashing against Billy who reaffirmed his grip to a just at the sudden weight. Jason’s head landed on the boy’s shoulder, his nose grazing lightly Billy’s neck. And at this moment, in this position, he absolutely understood was Billy was saying about comforting smell.

“You kept calling me in your sleep. And then you started to get agitated.”

“You were dead.”, Jason said simply. His tone was grave, heavy with a sob that was about to burst.

‘You were dead.”, he repeated, as tears started to form at the corner of his eyes, shoulders shaking abruptly.

“I just- I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Billy squeezed his arms around Jason, holding him even closer. He took Jason’s wrist, placing it against his torso, against his heart which rhythm was as fast paced as Jason’s.

“But I came back. You brought me back. And I’m here, Jason. I’m here with you, right now.”

He could feel Billy’s breath against his cheeks as the boy was pressing his forehead against Jason’s temple. The thumb of Billy’s hand was gently caressing Jason’s, still placed against the blue ranger’s torso. Jason’s adjusted his position to that his forehead rested against Billy and lifted his chin a bit. His fingers pressed harder against the other boy’s chest, digging into the flesh.

“It was so horrible…”. His voice cracked and Billy answered by squeezing him ever harder.

“Let it out, Jason. It’s okay. I got you.”, he whispered against Jason’s lips.

Jason’s heart exploded at those words, and as their lips met, the universe seemed balanced again.

#cranscott #jason scott #billy cranston #power rangers #cranscott fic #mine #i just have a lot of feeling about jason #and jason and billy #and jason face when he said i go you while holding billy's body #i also threw in some headcanons about jason dynamic with the team #and some trimberly #because i can #mywork #myfics #mycranscott #*powerrangers

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moonraccoon-exe · 7 years

Note

The Chocobros as a performing string quartet (2 violins, 1 viola, and 1 cello).

Are you asking for headcanons, or trying to see if I get triggered for some headcanons, or just suggesting?

Because I’m triggered and sharing headcanons anyway. :’D

Prompto and Noctis at the violins.

Ignis at the viola.

Gladio’s at the cello.

Ignis had started as first violin.

Noctis has always been too lazy to practice with frequency.

No first violin for him.

Plus, he insist he doesn’t want to be spotlight.

So Ignis had taken first violin, and Prompto had started learning with the viola.

Ignis damn masters violin.

But he got tired of Prompto whining every five minutes that “Nobody likes viola.”

Also got tired of Noctis trying to take advantage of his wonderful skills and trying to leave the work of both violins to Ignis.

“For the last time, Noctis, while I can play both parts I cannot do it at once.”

“Not so much of an expert player now, are you?”

Ignis is pretty f*cking mad.

Also got tired of Gladio laughing at Prompto’s every-five-minutes “Nobody likes viola.”

Exhausted when Noctis joined in with jokes about how nobody likes viola and how viola players are unknown.

So Ignis is leaving first violin to get the wonderful harmony pad that is viola.

He f*cking damn adores violas.

They’re not as whiny as violins but not as deep and uncomfortable as cellos.

They be perfect.

Ignis doesn’t understand why “nobody likes violas.”

Goodbye, stress of first violin.

Besides, that’s putting Prompto and Noctis in their place.

Iggy leaving the “biggest” responsibility and giving it to them is taking them out of their comfort zone, so it’s going to be healthy to them, according to him.

Prompto takes first violin, even when Noct started with a little more skill.

…Noct still refuses with all his might to ever take first violin, that’s why.

Gladio with 33 y.o. Gladio’s hair carrying his cello at his back.

Nothing about it, just have the mental image.

He looks SO GOOD.

You don’t ever say “Pachelbel’s Canon” in front of Gladio.

He’s going to either murder you or have a mental breakdown.

“It’s everywhere.”

“It’s following me”

“It’s HELL.”

Have you looked at the cello sheet for that??

Sadly it’s very requested in weddings and graduations.

Cellist Gladio’s going to murder everyone.

He’s rotting in boredom.

He’s playing with this blank expression and dropped the head like he died.

Nooooote….noooote….nooooote….nooooote…nooooote….nooooote…

“Somebody please shove the cello up my ass, I don’t wanna play anymore.”

“IT’S THREE NOTES, PEOPLE, AND I’M DOING IT OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AN-”

Noctis is always late for rehearsals.

Gladio sometimes has to miss a rehearsal and makes the guys have it moved to another day.

Ignis is on fire out of pure rage whenever ANYTHING interrupts with the schedules.

He LOVES precise schedules. He HATES to move anything about them.

He hates Noctis for arriving late.

He hates Gladio for changing days.

He hates Prompto just…because…he…

Because this needs to be balanced, he can’t show preference for any of the guys, so he hates Prompto too.

He really hates no one, just be patient with him, he’s a cupcake.

Noctis has Ignis do everything about his violin.

Broken string.

“Iggy, repair it.”

Untuned.

“*sigh* Too much work. Iggy, do it.”

Still untuned.

“*sigh* WHY ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG, IGNIS”

“YOUR HIGHNESS, WITH ALL RESPECT, I’M TUNING BOTH INSTRUMENTS AT ONCE, HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TUNING A VIOLA, CAN YOU PLEASE NOT-”

some strings of the arch broken?

“…Iggy.”

Okay, time to rehearse.

“…Ignis, can you-”

“No. I’ve told you multiple times I cannot play both instruments at once and nobody can, sit down and play the goddamn thing.”

Prompto practices often and is a good boy.

But he has flaws too.

Prompto tends to forget his music sheets.

Prompto forgot his music sheets the day they had a presentation.

Prompto’s subtly, secretly reading from Noctis’ lectern.

“It’s not the same notes than in my sheets , ajskslmfdsmk”

Prompto, of course not, it was obvious.

He’s just doing this quicksilver (hah, get it?) light-speed mental process of reading what’s on Noctis’ sheets and then make it two notes higher so he’s making harmony instead of playing the same than him and makes it sound like it’s a practiced song.

You know, that takes one good prepared musician.

Good kid Prompto.

Gladio’s tired of the cellists’ nightmare-

“WOW, that’s a super big violin, hahaha!”

No.

“WOW, that’s one hella big case! Why not something smaller like flute?”

“Sweetie, maybe you prefer smaller things, but I prefer my stuff to be like everything about me. Big. Ridiculously big. Uncomfortably big. Not my fault you can’t handle anything bigger than a flute. ;)”

Gladio, you don’t say that to a 80 y.o. lady.

Gladio makes fun of how long the others take to tune themselves.

But Gladio has faults too.

He tends to forget to secure the spike.

There’s sensual, dark Gladio playing the cello, fingers in vibrato, eyes closed, face drowned in mystery and feelings..

…Wop, he’s not there anymore.

Hahahaha, hope you got that.

Okay but we all should have mercy on Gladio. He’s constantly switching between three clefs (is that spelled correctly, omg, non speaker over here).

Gladio’s constantly forgetting the sheet changed the clef at some point.

Gladio has spent 3 months playing and rehearsing an entirely different thing to the one written there.

Cellist Gladio is curled up in the couch wrapped in a blanket, please bring him ice cream :’(

“ALL THIS PRACTICING FOR NOTHING, I HAVE TO START OVER,, WHY DID IGNIS NEVER POINT IT OUT!?”

Ignis is the devil.

Gladio’s devil you don’t speak about is Pachelbel’s canon,right?

Well, Ignis’ devil you don’t speak about is Ravel’s bolero.

Have you seen the music sheet for viola?

“It’s everywhere.”

“Please do not mention it.”

Ignis is going to set you on fire if you request it.

“We’re a string quartet, not an orchestra.”

“But you can arrange it for string quartet, rig-”

“No.”

IT’S THE SAME NOTES FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES.

Prompto is STILL making fun of violas.

He’s calling it Big Useless Violin.

“Yo, Nocto, I figured how to keep anyone from wanting to steal your violin. Just keep it in a viola case.”

“Violists have a bruise on the neck from the amount of time we spend with the instrument on it. You know where viola players have it? On their thigh.”

(don’t worry, it took me 10 minutes to get that one.)

“Gladio, what’s the difference between a coffin and a viola? The coffin has the dead person on the inside.”

The three are losing their shit.

Ignis is calmly planning their murder.

“Oi, Prompto” it’s Ignis, “that was fantastic, I am so amused. Do you know what a second minor is? You two playing in unison.”

Gladio just left his cello to jump out of his chair screaming OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH.

“BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURN”.

Gladio’s NEVER forgetting that burn.

Prompto stopped the jokes for a week.

He’s retaking them.

Because REALLY NO ONE LIKES VIOLAS, IGNIS.

Okay but

The guys in suits

Playing their respective instruments.

Dear god, anon, the gods BLESS YOUR HEAD.

Have this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LPXcLc0ALM

Tried looking for a good XV theme, but, have that one instead. Ya should hear to the end. 2:31 and ahead is one hella AMAZING theme.

Okay, but don’t look at YT, switch to another tab and just mentalize the XV chocobros playing it.

I love this.

GODS, you don’t send me music involved stuff, I LOVE THE HECK OUT OF THAT AND GET SO TRIGGERED.

Thanks, anon!

#string quartet chocobros

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