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charlie-rulerofhell · 3 years

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An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Heyo, I'm back with another translation. This time the article is from the German Rolling Stone website who met with Måneskin after their TikTok performance at the Schwuz, Berlin, and posted the interview yesterday. Again there were some interesting questions asked (and the pictures they added to the article are quite nice, though severely lacking some Ethan content, but check it out!).

Again, I hope that no one has already gone through the effort and translated it or is currently working on a translation. Also this is an official invitation, if you stumble across any articles or video interviews in German that you would like to have translated just message me and I'll get to it! (or if you just wanna chat about Måneskin, my inbox is always open :))

Have a great day everyone!

Full article under the cut.

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An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Jose-Luis Amsler

July 6, 2021

Måneskin are just what this generation has been missing. Passionate, corny, and full-on honest. In an interview with Rolling Stones, the ESC winners explain to us why they would never work in a normal job and why the hype for their appearance is sometimes going too far.

Damiano, Victoria, Thomas and Ethan are entering the nearly deserted dance hall, before they wait on stage in a red-blue spotlight. They are wearing glittering fish net tops, black tape across their nipples, leather pants, heels and make up. The camera men who are filming in portrait format (9:16) suitable for TikTok are whirling up the haze of the fog machine.

Måneskin are [in] Berlin to give a TikTok concert. A TikTok livestream of this scale has not been done often – tension is in the air. The four Italians don't know at this point that due to the stream the few people present are not allowed to clap or cheer. In complete silence and with slight uncertainty the four are crossing Neukölln's club Schwuz. A few puzzled glances are exchanged. Finally, Måneskin are striking the first chord.

Then the rich sound of Ethan's bass drum is tearing through the silence. It's almost as if someone has flicked a switch somewhere. There it is, the rock star presence that is hovering over everything they do, with an ounce of arrogance (in the best sense of the word). Singer Damiano is dancing lasciviously on his heels, and during an especially ecstatic solo guitarist Thomas is throwing himself down on the floor in a way it can only be done by a passionate 20-year-old musician who had never had to worry about the looming doom of an artificial knee joint [for 'passionate' the interview is using the term 'besessen' which means 'possessed', and although I think it's rather supposed to describe the way Thomas is 'possessed / obsessed' with the music, thus passionate for the music, you never know if they didn't mean to say that the way he dances looks 'possessed' … I mean, they might be on to something here ;)]. Around half an hour and about 120 decibel later, Damiano says their goodbyes with an almost shy-sounding “Okay, bye.” After the performance, we do our interview in the Schwuz.

Rolling Stone: It was a little bit weird, right, when you went on stage today?

Damiano: Yeah, that was really strange (laughs). They only told us after the performance that the audience was instructed to stay silent for the stream.

Vic: But at least they weren't silent because we were shit (all laughing). We are slowly getting used to playing without a live audience. I mean we are doing this now for more than a year.

RS: What do you think about these new kinds of concerts such as the TikTok livestream today?

Damiano: Well, at the moment it is the only option to perform anyway, so it's alright. But of course you cannot compare this to a proper concert.

Thomas: But it's pretty cool that so many people can experience our concert live.

Vic: Also we're gonna start touring again soon. Right now we are arranging some festival and gigs. In December we will be touring Italy and afterwards we are planning to go on tour through Europe. But we don't have anything fixed yet, there is just a lot going on at the moment.

“A lot going on”. Quite an understatement considering the recent journey Måneskin has made through the past weeks after their ESC win. Their singles “Beggin'” and “I Wanna Be Your Slave” went through the roof (also thanks to Social Media) and are currently dominating the international charts – lately they were also number one in Germany. There is barely a radio station that isn't playing the band on heavy rotation [would love to know what stations they listen to, have never heard Måneskin played in German radio tbh :( ], and everyone opening Instagram or TikTok these days is flooded by Måneskin content. Every second a new fanpage with the name of 'maneskin_obsession' or 'damianos_slut' is springing up like a (virtual) mushroom. It sounds like a cliche, but Damiano, Vic, Thomas and Ethan became international stars over night.

“Of course it's nice to get compliments. But sometimes they definitely cross a line.” – Damiano David

RS: How has your life as a band changed since your win at the ESC in Rotterdam?

Vic: I think we don't even notice a lot of what's happening. Right after the ESC we went to a studio in the countryside where we made music the whole day long. So at first we didn't realise that so many things were happening all around us – and that we had so many new fans. We're just now beginning to learn what's going on. We were at Sony yesterday, there were so many fans waiting for us. That was crazy.

RS: A large part of the attention you are getting now is about your outer appearance, your style, your attractiveness. Is that getting a little too much sometimes?

Damiano: Of course it's nice to get compliments (laughs). But sometimes they definitely cross a line. Especially when we just talk about our music or about a social or political topic that we care about. In those moments it's just completely inappropriate to reduce us to our appearance. Sure – when I'm posting a half-naked picture of myself on Instagram I know that I will get these kind of comments. And then it's totally fine, I mean in the end I'm posting the picture to show myself. But sometimes it's not the right place for it.

RS: And also you should be allowed to wear what you want without being sexualised, right?

Vic: Yes, absolutely. We are wearing these outfits because we feel good in them, not to put the focus on our bodies. And in general it shouldn't always only be about how you dress. We are musicians – so first and foremost it should be about our music. But I think it will still be a long way until we will reach that point.

“That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those things should never be equated with each other.” – Victoria De Angelis

RS: But still you are sending a message with your style against stereotypical gender roles. I guess it's also not only coincidence that we are in the Schwuz today, which is normally a party location and safe space for the LGBTQ community.

Vic: Yes, that is all part of the positive message that we try to send. We want to give our audience the feeling that they are free. Free to wear whatever they want to wear, be how they want to be and love whom they want to love. It's unbelievable that there is still so much intolerance in our times. That has always been really important to us so we try to talk about these topics. We also believe that the narrow-mindedness of society is an educational problem. When you grow up with people all around you telling you how you should be, you will never feel completely free. The more people are talking about it, the sooner things will change.

RS: Some artists who are advocating for these topics are accused of 'queerbaiting', that they are only pretending to be a certain way to gain more support from the queer community. Have you also been faced with those allegations?

Vic: Yes, a few times. But of course we never pretended to be anything. Some people accuse of us queerbaiting because we look and act the way we do. But that's flawed thinking. We don't believe that clothes are connected to a person's sexuality. That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those two things should never be equated with each other.

RS: This courage for free self expression that you are conveying is mainly lived by our (young) generation through Instagram and the like. What is your relationship to social media?

Damiano: For me it was almost scary at first. The more we grew, the more people were trying to twist all of my words. But over time you start to understand that with more fame you also get more criticism. The happier you look the more hate you will get. It's not only like that for celebrities. If you are brave enough to show the things that make you happy there will always be people that support you, but they are also those that envy you. Of course, this should never lead anyone to not express themselves openly but that's easier said than done.

Vic: We are also trying not to spend too much time on social media. In the end we just try to be honest with our fans and to avoid negativity.

[caption under the picture of Damiano: 'Is already being compared to icons such as David Bowie']

It's actually surprising how little power a win at the ESC holds in most cases. Almost 200 million people are watching this shining spectacle every year – and still, a few months afterwards it is hard to remember who those people were that got covered in confetti during the award ceremony. It's the well-known curse of a casting show that rests on the winning bands. When just next year a new sensation will come to marvel at, how much impact does a win have then? There are exceptions of course, like Lena who is until this day, 10 years after her win in Oslo, a part of the more famous music scene of German pop music. With their charisma, their unusual sound at least for our modern standards, and their contemporary message Måneskin could become such an exception, too.

It's likely also helpful that the band already had a standing in the Italian music scene prior to their ESC participation. Their first album 'Il ballo della vita' already achieved platinum in 2018, three years prior to Sanremo and the ESC. And then there is also the long way that led the four schoolmates to this point that helped them gain the necessary persistence. Because contrary to what some people might want to believe Måneskin are not a phenomenon that has just been deliberately bred to be this way by the entertainment industry for Eurovision.

“I have worked [in a 'normal' job] for a whole month in my entire life – it didn't really end well.” – Damiano David

RS: You were all raised in Rome, the capital of the catholic church. What was it like to start as a young progressive band in such a conservative environment?

Damiano: In the beginning, when we started as buskers, no one gave a damn about us anyways (all laughing). But of course … Once we got a bit bigger there were a few people who had a problem with us. For example when we went to Sanremo, there were quite many people who thought that the way we looked and acted we shouldn't be allowed to represent Italy. They didn't even want to listen to our music first.

Vic: Especially when it comes to appearance and sexuality, Italy is a little more backward than other countries. The church probably also has an influence there. They are often quite conservative of course, so many people grew up with such a [conservative] mindset.

RS: You once said that the song 'In Nome Del Padre' is an answer to exactly those people. What does the song mean to you?

Damiano: Back in the beginning [of our career] we had to deal with a lot of problems. They didn't want to let us play in clubs because we would take too much space as a band or because they didn't like our (fashion) style or because they didn't want to pay us. Italy isn't a good place for bands. Our musical style was also criticised a lot. Many people were telling us: Don't do that [rock music], you won't get popular with that in Italy, you will never achieve anything with it. Of course those comments were hurtful but they were also a good reason for us to continue with what we did. And we turned our sadness into anger. With that song we wanted to tell those people from back then: Fuck off and look at us, we did it!

RS: Did you ever consider working in a nine-to-five job and live a 'normal' life?

Damiano: Nah, not really. For one month in my life I worked [in a 'normal' job] – it didn't end well (all laughing).

Vic: We all made music since we were kids. It's a huge part of us, that we couldn't just ignore. And the most important thing is that you do something that makes you happy. At least that's what we believe. So we started from a young age to put all our time and energy into music.

Thomas: Yeah, exactly. Ever since we were in school together we always made music. That has always been our main focus and it is until today. We play and play and play because it is the only thing that …

Ethan: … we live for.

Damiano: Music has also something very therapeutic for us. Even when we are in a bad mood or fight with each other – yeah, that happens, too – then all of that is gone the moment we enter the stage. Maybe that's the beautiful thing about music – that it allows you to forget everything else. You're just standing on stage, having fun with your friends.

From most bands you wouldn't buy such a corny love letter to music. Mostly it just sounds like an empty phrase, a well-practiced quotable line. But when there is something that defines Måneskin and that becomes more and more evident during our conversation it's their uncompromising honesty. The four of them are definitely not lacking a sense of humour but they take their music very seriously. Which should not be taken for granted in a generation that has mainly produced sarcastic cloud rappers and has made cynical twitter comedy a national sport. And maybe Måneskin are exactly what this generation was lacking all along.

Still, the four musicians, all in the age of 20 to 22, are also prone to the constant need for self-expression, that has become an intrinsic part of today's life. This does not only reflect in the outfits of the band (always 'on fleek') and their Instagram profiles, but also in their lyrics. Their latest record 'Teatra D'Ira – Vol. 1' shows a clear theme: The album is an ode to individuality, accentuated by fast and hard sounds.

Sometimes this message fitting for a Disney movie [really? guess I have been watching the wrong Disney movies my whole life …] is wrapped in a contrasting loud and forceful packaging, but never so much that it becomes inauthentic or self-caricaturing [note: I'm honestly not entirely sure what they wanted to say with this sentence since it uses a lot of rhetorical devices that could be interpreted in different ways, but I'd say this sounds the most plausible]. And in the end, the thing that makes Måneskin so interesting is their unification of the spirit of this time – between TikTok hedonism and an omnipresent political statement – with the music of past generations.

“When you are twenty, you start to think about what the future will hold.” – Damiano David

RS: Your musical style is often described as classical 70s rock, but in fact there are many different influences in your music. Sometimes you groove almost into funk, sometimes it's more rapping than singing. How did this mixture come to be?

Thomas: It's just that we all have our own individual influences and then we meet somewhere in the middle. And we always try to stay open for experiments.

Ethan: Yes, we are very experimental in our song writing process.

Vic: We also don't want to limit ourselves to what is regarded as typical rock music. If rap fits better at some point then we just add that in. It just happens naturally without us thinking too much about it.

RS: So why was it still rock music in the end?

Vic: Because it's the style that we feel most represented by. But actually we just play the music that we enjoy playing. That's really important to us so that we can show something real on stage. We don't want to pretend to be something that we aren't or mock those people that really enjoy our music. You should always be proud of what you're doing and never fake anything just to sell more records.

RS: Is there something like an Italian rock music scene?

Vic: There are quite a lot of bands – but the most of them are much older than us or they are more going in the direction Indie rock. There isn't really a young rock scene, which we think is a pity. But ever since we got more famous people are telling us that they started listening to rock music because of us or that they bought their first guitar and such. That's incredibly nice!

RS: So you're saying that you also want to show this style of music to a younger generation. And you capture this contrast quite well in the song 'Vent'anni', which is a typical rock ballad but lyrically portrays the thoughts of today's youth. Where did the motivation come from to write that song?

Damiano: With the song I wanted to show that I'm just a normal guy, a really typical 20-year-old. I experience the same things that other people in my age are experiencing, I'm just doing another job than them. Also I wanted to describe this age as a whole because I think it's a really special age. At 20 you start to think about what the future will hold. I think it's one of the most important stages of your life. Since we (the four of us) are all in the same age, I then started to mix our experiences together. In the end the song shows what it means to us to be 20. There is a lot of good things – you are quite carefree and are looking at life enthusiastically. But on the other hand you're too young to do certain things and too old to do others. Some people are treating you like a full-grown adult, but …

Vic: … not entirely.

Damiano: Exactly. It can get pretty frustrating at times. We wanted to show our audience: Hey, we're also just 20 years old, and we're going through the same things as you. We understand you.

RS: Except that you are the ones who are becoming a world-wide phenomenon right now. How do you want to maintain this honesty?

Damiano: I think that we could just reach this point because we have always been authentic – for better or for worse. Also we are just trying to have fun with what we're doing together. That's something special that we don't want to lose. In the end we're just four friends who started to live their dream. It's actually pretty simple. Of course – we go on stage, we get a lot of attention, we give interviews – but when we come back home we're just four friends.

#måneskin #maneskin #måneskin interview #my stuff #esc #again if you ever want anything to be translated just hit me up i'm free most of the time #ig my blog is slowly turning into a måneskin fanpage for translations and shitposting #but tbh i'm not complaining #have a great day everyone and happy waiting for sooooon

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sylvie-writes · 3 years

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𝐀𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐦 ✯ 𝐒. 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

word count: 4,000

pairing: steve rogers x female reader

summary: If one had to live the same day over and over again, it would be most sensible of them to choose the best one. Well unfortunately for you, you didn’t get a choice.

warnings: angst

a/n: this was the one-shot i had posted a preview of and i apologize for taking so long to post it. i couldn’t decide how to end it so then i took a poll and it was a fluffy ending, which helped me a bit! thanks! btw sorry if the formatting looks weird. on my computer it looks weird, but on my phone it looks normal so idk.

please excuse any mistakes!

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

For the first time in years, you awoke to notice the light of the sun and how it ever so brightly twinkled. The sun had never actually disappeared, but today you had actually taken the time to notice it in all of its glory. Just the mere sight brought a bittersweet smile to your face, along with the feeling of delight, something you had missed so dearly during the dark period of time that had finally ended yesterday. Half of the world had disappeared for what seemed forever and with that no longer looming over your head, you could actually live and enjoy life for what it is. It may sound cliche, but the sun did seem brighter to you now, and the world a happier place after being reset. Last night, you had watched the news and for the first time in forever, it was enjoyable. On the screen, images of people reuniting along with many others sending words of thanks to your crew mates turned family, the Avengers.

Today, you were mostly relishing in the peace, but just a small bit of worry settled in your stomach as Steve was returning the stones back to their normal timelines. No matter how many times Sam offered to go with him, the stubborn man refused, still ready to take the risk on his own. Times like these made you miss Nat even more as she was probably the only person, aside from you, to be able to talk Steve out of anything. Instead of continuing to dwell on the matter that was out of your hands, you turned away from the sunny window and to your left. The sound of your shuffling in the sheets must’ve awoken the man beside you as his grip tightened its hold on your waist. He pulled you closer into his chest and then wrapped two arms around you, forming a warm and inviting hug. After some sleepy groaning, lips met the top of your head which you could only tell by feeling since your face was currently being squished into the man.

“Good Morning, gorgeous. What time is it?” Steve picked his chin up from the top of your head, peering over to your nightstand where the clock sat. As he did so, he noticed you were squeezing your eyes shut and murmuring some silent “no’s” and “it’s not time yet.”

He chuckled at your defiance and then unwrapped his arms so he could lean back and instead run his fingers through your hair. “I hate to break it to you, but we have to meet the rest of the team in an hour.”

Turning onto your stomach, you threw your face into Steve’s pillow while also ignoring his annoying bright smile as if he was entertained. “Ugh, can’t they just wait. It’s not like the stones have suddenly grown feet and are gonna run away.”

“Hon, you’ve left me no choice.”

It got freakishly quiet and next thing you knew, Steve had thrown back the sheets and thrown you over his shoulder.

“Steve! I was just about to get up!!” You quickly sat up to face the blonde and not his backside which caused him to somehow gently rotate you in a way that you were now being held bridal style. Steve simply shrugged and kissed your forehead before heading to the bathroom to start the shower, you still in his arms.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

It was only supposed to be seconds.

And as of now, it has been at least a minute.

All hell's breaking loose at the moment. Bucky, feet glued to the ground, looks around as if Steve is gonna magically appear and Sam is worriedly questioning Bruce who is anxiously messing with the buttons of his controls. On the other hand, you are still staring at the platform, the traffic in your mind finally halting which ultimately caused you to drop to the floor in shock. As you were out cold on the ground, Sam looked over for a split second and luckily caught you in his sight.

About fifteen minutes later, you woke up in the infirmary. You looked to your right where Bruce was standing with a water while Bucky and Sam waved at you from the nearby seats. Your first reaction was anger as you saw the three here and not working on getting Steve back who was currently nowhere in sight. Rejecting the bottle, you sat up straight. With fire in your eyes, you stared at Bruce, “Where is he?”

The gentle giant just shook his head, urging you to drink more water. Immediately, you ripped the i.v tube from your arm, ignoring the slight burn and then the draft from the paper gown that clothed your body. Just as you made it to the door, both Sam and Bucky held out their hands, stopping you from exiting.

“Woah woah, missy. Where do you think you are going?”

Bucky slowly reached out to place a hand on your waist in a way to make sure that you wouldn’t run off while Sam distracted you further.

“To find Steve.”

Sam sucked in a harsh breath and folded his arms over his chest. “(y/n). We all care about both you and Steve very much-”

“If you did care, then you’d be out there looking for him!” Your emotions had finally bubbled over and now resentful tears were starting to emerge.

“Think about what you just said because it doesn’t make sense! We are just as worried as you are and we’ve done everything, and I mean everything, we can. He’s gone.” Sam’s eyes softened and he put a hand on your shoulder, “Please get some rest. There’s nothing else to be done.” The stubbornness started to subside and in turn, reality seeped into your mind. You then looked to Bucky, seeing that he was looking at you the same way as Sam.

“Sam and I will be on the lookout. I promise (y/n). Steve wouldn’t want you up right now and you know that.”

With a childlike huff you turned back towards the bed as the two men ushered you to it.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

Hours must have passed because next thing you knew it was morning again and you were back in your own bed. It was somewhat shocking as you felt as good as new, possibly even better than you’ve felt before. As you finally awoke, you felt something heavy on your waist and looking down, you noticed an arm slung around your torso. You blinked a few times to make sure it was real and your mind then ran to the most sensible conclusion.

Whispering, you stared at the hand as if it was foreign, “Bucky?”

Suddenly a voice replied in all of its deepend glory, “Sorry, doll, but it’s Steve.”

The hand then moved and you heard sheets shuffling as Steve turned onto his back to stretch his arms with an overdramatic yawn.

You shot up faster than an eager student’s hand. With a soft gasp you brought a hand to your lips. It couldn’t be…

“W-When did-d you get back?” It was quiet, but Steve’s enhanced hearing picked it up just as he had done so a few seconds before.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You returned the time stones. Yesterday… And you never came back.”

Dark blonde eyebrows creased together and a hand made its way to your forehead. “(y/n), you are worrying me. We aren’t returning the stones until today. Are you okay? What did you eat last night?”

Before Steve could mother goose anymore, you clumsily shuffled out of the bed, but not removing eye contact from the man. “I’ll-I’ll be right back.”

You slipped on shoes, apparently mismatched ones, but you were too anxious to care. In a millisecond, the bedroom door was shut. You, running out like you were fearing for your life and Steve on the other side, concerned and confused.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

“GUYS, THEY ARE REAL! WE ARE GONNA NEED TO GO INTO LOCKDOWN!”

Running into the kitchen like a madwoman, you screamed the words you believed to be true. The innocent bystanders, Scott and Wanda, were currently gathering the rest of their things, while Bruce stood in the kitchen making breakfast. Everyone had been ready to go off onto their own paths after the events of yesterday (including Tony’s funeral), but currently you thought you held some mind-blowing information that would stop time, so to say.

“(y/n) what’s happening?” Wanda threw down her box and rushed to your side as you were already talking a mile a minute. None of them could understand a single word for it sounded like absolute gibberish.

“There is a shapeshifter in my room. You know, those things Carol talked about! I thought she was bullshitting us, but the Skrulls or whatever are real. What are we gonna do? I know there are some th-”

“Darling, what are you going on about? There’s nothing in our room, I just came from there. You’ve been acting weird all morning.” Entering the common area, Steve leaned up against the doorway before beginning to approach your shaking form.

Absolute horror in your eyes, you looked at Steve in terror as he now tenderly held your wrists in his hands.

“It’s you.”

He titled his head like a confused puppy while the rest of the onlookers stood by. You weren’t sure what to say for if you said “it’s him,” that would be equivalent to standing in a bank robbery and calling the cops right in front of the shooter. Rather you went with what you thought was smart and uttered Wanda’s name.

It took her a second, but she looked as if she had caught on once having invaded your thoughts. Although, your hope was lost when she ended up mirroring Steve’s perplexed look.

Taking matters into your own hands (quite literally,) you roughly shook your hands free from Steve’s loving hold and walked over to the nearby side table, discreetly eying the lamp. From first glance, it looked to the team members as if you were simply going to turn on the light, but all of a sudden, the lamp was in your hands and ready to launch at Steve. A mixture of “stops” and gasps sounded when it flew in the air. The team was quick to act, but it all happened in slow-motion for you.

The lamp froze in the air with a red aura surrounding it thanks to Wanda while Steve tossed himself at you to avoid the incoming object. Of course, by doing so he rolled to make sure not to crush you while making impact with the ground. Once everything stopped, the lamp was returned to its place and your teammates started to slowly approach, you went to stand up, but Steve’s grasp stopped you. In fact, he flipped you over so your back was now on the carpet, an aggravated blonde now hanging over your body. His hands were pinning down your once flailing arms and his eyes burned into your own.

“(y/n). Tell me what is going on. Now.” Rarely did Steve ever use this tone with you. Actually, he’s never used it with you. It also occurred to you that you probably looked a bit insane to your friends and boyfriend, so you figured it was time to come clean. If they thought you were deranged, then oh well. What else was there to do?

“If you aren’t a shapeshifter then what’s happening!?!”

You reached out to grab the fistfuls of his shirt before beginning to cry quietly. Steve could sense you were really upset over whatever this is because you were never one to act in such an irrational way. At this point, Bruce, Wanda and Scott stood by, concerned for you and the current situation. Steve leisurely leaned down, pressing a comforting kiss to your temple before hovering by your ear.

“What is wrong, my love? Tell me so I can help you.”

Stopping the tears, you peered up at the man who you trusted your life with. So far, you had managed to convince yourself that this was really your Steve, but that only left one conclusion, yet you didn’t want to believe it. Not yet anyway.

“Steve, you disappeared...yesterday. I can remember it all, I swear.” Your voice died down as you thought of a way to convince them. “Bruce, tell them, you were there too! Please, I’ve already lived this day.”

Chiming in from the back was Bruce, “What day do you think it is then?”

You replied the date at which Wanda told you that it wasn’t, but rather that it was the day before.

Steve had loosened his hold on you at this point and you managed to scoot up and lean up back against the side table.

“So then what does that mean? I’m living the same day… over again?”

Everyone started to nod in acceptance like they were welcoming the idea and you just suddenly burst out, hysterically laughing at the ridiculousness.“Well that’s just great, guys! I’ve lost my damn mind. It’s okay you all don’t have to play along, just ship me away already, will y’a?”

“I’ve gone off the rails, Steven. How do you even put up with this!?” You motioned to yourself in disgust and Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen a lot, especially these last five years, so this doesn’t even sound remotely crazy.”

Scott moved closer to reassure you. “No, (y/n), you haven’t! This is entirely possible. believe it or not. In simplest terms, it’s like that movie,” The man paused to think before shining a boastful smile at you, “Groundhog’s Day. You know, the one with Bill Murray.”

Bruce piped up from his distant spot in the kitchen, “Not another movie, Scott! We’ve already discussed this, just because it was in a movie, doesn’t make it true.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. That IS how we found time travel after all. Thank god my parents let me watch Back to the Future or else-”

The doctor looked at Scott with a face that practically screamed “fair enough and please just shut up,” which the rambling man took note of as he quickly piped down. (You took note of this situation and for future reference remembered not to ask them this question for the rest of the time you’d live this day.)

From there, you and the team spent the rest of the time trying to figure whatever it is before Steve had to leave with the stones. You only hoped that night everything would be normal or that this was really just a bad and very vivid dream.

An extremely bad one.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

Unfortunately, you awoke the next morning in the same position that you’d love to be in any other day, which was Steve’s arm cocooning you.

Starting from today on and for the next ten days or so, you’d approach the day as such.

In the morning, you’d try your hardest to convince Steve to not leave.

He’d ask you why and you’d come up with some bullshit excuse, different from the day before, along with some puppy eyes that the man would just laugh at. As you pouted, he’d kiss your sulking lips and murmur “you’re so silly, doll.”

No matter how many times you tried to convince him, he ironically always said that exact phrase in return.

Needless to say it was a bit annoying and you were tired of living the same day over and over again. Steve would never not do something for the world unless it meant hurting you. If only he knew that this simple act was like driving a knife straight through your heart.

You tried to keep count of the amount of days on a piece of paper, but soon discovered that would be useless by day two since it just disappeared into thin air.

Of all the days to relive, it just had to be the one where Steve vanished. Yet, no matter how many times you live that day, a pit of angst always settled in your stomach even though you knew what was to come later on that day. It was absolute torture seeing the love of your life perish before you and you couldn’t do anything to change it. Sometimes at night, while you laid alone, you’d wonder why of all the days that it had to be this one. What had you done to piss off the universe so bad?

Finally, by what you assumed was day eight, you just accepted your fate and decided to just have some fun with it. If you were gonna have to suffer, you might as well make something out of the day. Granted you were gonna solve cancer or help homelessness because your efforts would be reset the “next” day.

As the team prepared for Steve’s departure, you’d be out eating tons and tons of your favorite meals knowing that it wouldn’t affect you tomorrow. One day you even spontaneously caught a plane to some country you’d never even visited and just blew an unfathomable amount of money. On other days, you had also invested time and money into getting your hair done into impossible and whacky styles while simultaneously regretting not having painted your nails the day before. It was stupid to worry about or even bring up, but they were constantly chipped and it was aggravating to look at as you foolishly sped through the city in an expensive car that wouldn’t be yours tomorrow.

What you were doing was absolutely careless, reckless and just downright out of character for anyone, especially you. Yet when you knew it all wouldn’t matter tomorrow, you carried on with your disregard for the world. Numb from the pain you were just trying to feel something.

When it finally came time for Steve to leave, you’d bid him goodbye and when he vanished, you would see Sam, Bucky, and Bruce’s shocked expressions for what felt like the thousandth time. Honestly, you knew they wouldn’t remember and instead you’d just walk away, trying your best to not let your emotions jump out once more. You figured that after the tenth day, you were just desensitized and that you should be unaffected by now, when in reality you were still hurting. At this point, even though you got to spend time with Steve, your hours hurting outweighed your hours enjoying life.

There was no use in any longer faking to yourself. The logic of “what you think is what you become,” wasn’t helping so you instead swallowed the bitter pill of reality and moved on. For real this time.

You had finally come to accept that Steve was gonna be gone and no one knew when he’d come back, but you knew one thing.

The pain of constantly seeing him disappear, knowing there was nothing you could say or do to stop him because boy did you try, was much more profound than that of the pain you felt when he was just gone. There was more hope for him to return that way than not moving on at all.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

Somehow, by doing so and accepting the truth, the universe reset that night.

You woke up and Steve wasn’t there.

For having lived the same day on repeat for at least 3 weeks time, you knew with absolute certainty that he was gonna be there.

These people you’d been living were practically programmed with a script so there was surely no way anything could change unless…

“Hey (y/n) glad to see you are awake. We have some good news.”

At that moment Sam popped his head in from the hallway and you couldn’t keep a smile at bay.

It was finally a new day.

The man gave you a confused look, but was happy nonetheless to see you.

“Wow, you seem pretty chipper for someone who has been through a lot in the past few hours. You good?” Sam came to your bedside and gave you a blueberry muffin wrapped in a thin napkin. It was hard to come by muffins in the compound, let alone breakfast at all, and you felt a ping of joy when you noticed that Sam remembered your favorite snack. He’d always have your back whether it was a muffin or a bullet.

“It’s nothing. I am just happy that today is a new day and I can start with a clean slate.” Taking a bite into the muffin, you relished in the fresh and spongy cake while your conscience scolded you for not indulging in these during your everlasting day from hell.

“I don’t know what’s gotten to you, but I am loving the cringe-worthy optimism. Speaking of which, I have something to add to that.” You ignored the subtle dig at your newfound look on life and rather keened in on the last half of his words.

“Did you-” Tears started to brim your eyes. Happy ones. Soon your muffin was long forgotten as you threw off the covers and stood from the bed. Sam was quick to stand as well, steadying you when your sheets got tangled at your feet and you spun a bit.

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

There he was.

Your Steve was standing before you with a look of adoration on his face while his arms were wide open, beckoning you to him.

“How?” A gasp of question fell from your lips and at this point you were sure your body and mind were gonna explode from this extra case of surprise, as if you hadn’t been through enough of that. It was astronomical that you could even feel that emotion at this point.

“Scott discovered that we somehow ripped time?” You furrowed your brows and Steve continued on. “ When you all sent me back to return, I guess it was a bit miscalculated.”

So it wasn’t all a dream? Could it really be that you had lived the same day on repeat? It was like someone had accidentally hit the repeat button for a song one too many times, but instead of a song, it was your life?

“Now I am not good with all the technical things, but apparently it stopped time in a way. Dr. Banner even said that it could have caused for some to experience some type of repetitive time abnormality!” Steve chuckled, not understanding a single word that he was saying to you. It was like a foreign language to him. He blamed it on being from a time where technology barely existed, but you and the rest of the team were quick to reassure him that it was confusing for all.

“Oh, if only you all knew.” Wrapping your arms around Steve’s slim waist, you nestled your face into his chest, inhaling his cologne and embracing his warmth. Steve placed his lips on the crown on your head and you two stayed that way for an eternity,

One day maybe you’d tell them the story, but for now you were gonna relish in the time you had with Steve. If you had learned anything from your experience, it was that time was a tricky thing and that you shouldn’t hold a grudge as life did on you for that day. You will never make any progress if you do. Live in the moment and roll with the punches life throws in your direction.

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #Steve Rogers au #steve rogers and reader #chris evans x reader

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mego42 · 3 years

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fav animated films

tagged by @joeyjoeylee and @pynkhues (ty ladies 💖)

i’m gonna be real with y’all, it physically hurts me to see some of you dismissing animated films as for kids and cartoons. if you’ll allow me to put on my art kid hat for a second, i have a (usually drunken) impassioned rant that i roll out around the topic but to spare y’all and sum it up, it is an ART FORM made up of three different art forms in a trenchcoat and quite frankly, you fav ~films COULD!!!!!! NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!

mary and max

you want an animated movie that truly deserves the film moniker? look no further. this gorgeously stop motion animated film is the story of an eight year old australian girl who forms an incredibly unlikely friendship based on a life long pen pal relationship with a 44 year old new yorker with asperger’s. it’s a really beautiful story that, fair warning, gets pretty dark at points but i can honestly say has moved me like very few films have possibly for personal backstory reasons but also because it’s so damn good. idk, it makes me cry a lot. also, the soundtrack? incredible.

fantastic mr fox

i love wes anderson, i think he’s an artist and a master of visual and micro-storytelling. fantastic mr fox isn’t my all time favorite of his portfolio (that prize rotates between the royal tenenbaums, moonrise kingdom, and the grand budapest hotel), i love this movie a lot and it is one of my favorite animated films. it’s another stop motion (LISTEN THAT IS SUCH A COOL TECHNIQUE AND HONESTLY BREAKS MY BRAIN WITH EVERYTHING THAT GOES INTO IT) and the visuals can get downright eerie in a way that makes me shiver with glee.

coraline

another stop motion! the visual style of this movie is so gorgeous and complicated, i lost a bet over whether or not it was digitally or physically animated. i belligerently insisted capitalism would never allow for an animation studio to build such vibrant and intricate sets because there was absolutely no way that would be even a little bit cost effective and i have never ben happier to be wrong, tbh. the first time i watched this movie i immediately watched it two more times back to back bc i am very normal when i love stuff.

coco

i watch this movie a minimum of three times a year.

the first ten minutes of this movie is a greater love story than most love stories could ever aspire to be and that’s just the launching point for the rest. i am an absolute sucker for both found family and cross-generational relationships so this hits on multiple levels.

wall-e

this movie makes the list for a couple of reasons. one, I remain in awe of the kind of storytelling pixar can do without dialogue. two, it’s an inside joke between me and my husband (i’m eva, he’s wall-e, i never said it was a complicated or even a good joke but it makes me squishy nonetheless). we actually had a wall-e wedding cake topped with wall-e and eva funko pops and i hear it was gorgeous. i never saw it bc my flower girls stole it and smashed and ate it all in the back seat of their parents rental car.

spider-man: into the spider-verse

this movie is a mfing instant classic and if you haven’t seen it you’re only hurting yourself. the story is impeccable, the combination of depth and humor is absolute perfection and the animation is I N C R E D I B L E. they scrapped current CGI convention and went back to the hand-animation technique of shifting movement every second frame (alternating which frame, the first or second, depending on the vibe they wanted to give the scenes). they also scrapped motion blur to give the whole thing a sharper, more staccato feeling that (imo) really ramped up the energy and made it feel more comic book in a vague but crucial sort of way and also unique from other animated movies. THEN they went in and did the line work, painting and dot effects on top of all of that to give it that hand drawn, living painting feeling and honestly the whole thing is so lush and gorgeous if i think about it too much i want to punch myself in the face.

kubo and the two strings

look, the casting of this movie is a trainwreck, enough of one that i waffled a lot about putting it on this list. the fact that they told such a steeped in japanese culture story with all white people is a disaster and everyone involved should have known better. on the flip side, it’s one of the most breathtakingly beautiful animation jobs i’ve ever seen in my life so idk, i hold both of those facts in my head at the same time i guess.

anastasia

i have such a soft spot for this movie, I vividly remember seeing it in the theater. idk, it’s fantastic

the secret of NIMH

looking back this movie was SO DARK and i was SO OBSESSED WITH IT as a kid (still kind of an, tbh, in spite of the relentless cat slander, it’s incredibly thematically rich)

idk who has been tagged already so no pressure if you’ve already gone or you don’t wanna @nickmillerscaulk @foxmagpie @riosnecktattoo @jazillia007

#i have a lot of thoughts and feelinga about animation as an art form clearly #i need you guys to know i have never said films this many consecutive times in my life #tag games #shut up meg

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hale-13 · 3 years

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Trapezius

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 27 Prompt 27 - Injured

Peter gazed out over the harbor forlornly, twisting his mask into knots in his lap. Normally he would really enjoy the view – the sun was setting in a clear sky turning the normally disgusting water a soft orange and painting the area with a soft warmth. The peaceful view was marred by the emergency vehicles, Coastguard boats and police and news helicopters which made Peter’s gut clench with anxiety. He just… he tried so hard.

Words: 2123, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Helen Cho

TW: Injury, Poor Emotional intelligence

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

The sound of repulsers approaching made Peter tense and he mentally put his walls back up. He couldn’t afford to let Mr. Stark see him as a kid right now. They were colleges when he was Spider-Man, peers. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it puff out through his clenched teeth.

“Previously on Peter screws the pooch I tell you to stay away from this instead you hack a multi-million dollar suit so you can sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you not to do,” Mr. Stark’s sarcastic voice said and Peter held back a flinch, keeping his expression blank as he cautiously looked back over his shoulder. His back was killing him and felt hot and swollen from his Hercules hold of the ferry earlier – he had definitely felt something tear – but he couldn’t afford the weakness right now.

“Is everyone okay?” He asked instead, keeping his voice monotone and trying not to tense his back.

“No thanks to you,” the Iron Man voice made Mr. Stark’s snide tone sound slightly metallic but, more than that, it made his blood boil and he whipped around to face the man.

“No thanks to me?” He took no precautions as he lifted his lefts over they side of the concrete tower and jumped down on the other side making his shoulders throb. “Those weapons were out there and I tried to tell you about it and you didn’t listen. None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me!” His voice broke and he could feel blood rushing to his face but he did his best to push down the embarrassment. “If you even cared you’d actually be here.” He threw in boldly.

It took him by surprise, therefore, when the armor opened in from of him and Tony Stark stepped out, a grim look of disappointment on his face that made Peter stumble back a could steps, unable to hide his wince of pain but playing it off as shock instead. “I did listen kid. Who do you think called the FBI huh?”

Peter dropped his gaze, unable to make further eye contact, only interrupting to correct his age and flinching again at Mr. Stark’s yelling. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, but he could tell the platitudes were only making his idol angrier so he said instead, with the most sincerity he could push into his tone “I just… I just wanted to be like you.”

“And I wanted you to be better,” Mr. Stark said back in a weary voice before asking for the suit back. Peter heart sank further but he got it. Mr. Stark was right – he didn’t deserve to be Spider-Man if all he did was hurt other people.

The car ride back to his apartment in Queens was silent and awkward, broken only by Mr. Stark and Happy leaving the car and throwing his a pair of hideous Hello Kitty pajama pants and an oversized New York tourist shirt. It took more effort than he would care to admit to slip the suit off of his painful muscles and lift his arms up high enough to pull the shirt on but he managed it.

Happy slipped back into the driver’s seat a moment later and raised the partition but Mr. Stark didn’t return as they pulled away from the curb and Peter’s heart sank further when he realized the man had probably taken the armor back to the Tower because he couldn’t bear to be in the car with Peter another minute. His eyes were burning but he refused to cry here – he’d already proven to be a problem and he wasn’t going to cry about his well deserved punishment.

The car stopped in front of his apartment and the locks on the doors popped but Happy didn’t roll down to partition to talk to him or offer any direction so, without a backward glance as his poorly folded suit, Peter slunk out of the car and upstairs.

May was not happy with him for skipping school and not answering his phone and, with the pain of his torn muscles ratcheting up and the emotional trauma of the day weighing down on him he collapsed onto the couch and tearfully confessed to his aunt that he had lost his internship, wanting to bring his arms up to return her tender hug but physically unable to do so. His only relief was that she directed him to take a shower pretty immediately because he smelled like garbage,.

And, yeah, he probably did.

The piss poor water pressure of their dingy shower was actually a blessing today but Peter could still barely stand with his back facing the hottest water possible hoping that the heat would relieve some of his pain but he was still just as painful when he forwent his sleep shirt a few minutes later.

He healed fast. This was fine – it would all be resolved in a few days.

———————————————

“Fuck,” Peter muttered, keeping his right arm tucked close to his stomach as he wrestled with the leukotape he had bought at the pharmacy. It kept sticking to itself and the wall and his hair and basically everywhere but where he was trying to stick it and Peter groaned, balling the piece up and throwing it away.

It had been a few months since dealing with the Vulture. A few months since turning down Mr. Stark’s offer to be an Avenger but accepting his offer to become his personal intern and Peter couldn’t be happier.

Well. Except for his shoulder that is.

His left arm had healed fully after straining his muscles holding the ferry together but his right had just gotten worse and worse and it was interfering with his ability to not only be Spider-Man but also to just perform everyday tasks. He hadn’t been able to lift much with that side or even put on a shirt normally in weeks and it was starting to grate on his nerves. After spending hours watching videos on YouTube Peter decided to try some strengthening exercises and taping.

Neither was working very well.

“Fuck,” he said again, with feeling, as he bent forward at the waist to rest his head on the cool counter top of his bathroom. He was supposed to get picked up by Happy in a few minutes to go and spend the weekend at the Tower with Tony to work on his suit and there was no way he could hide this anymore. He couldn’t even lift his arm up to chest level. His phone vibrated on the counter top and he moaned, answering it without looking at the caller ID. “Hey Happy.”

“Nope, guess again,” his mentor’s voice said and Peter jerked up, letting out a strangled grunt as he jostled his shoulder. “You okay kid?”

“Why are you calling me?” Peter said instead, deflecting.

“I’m picking you up,” Tony said. “Now are you okay?”

Peter waffled for a minute but one look at his duffle bag made him ache and he let out a sigh. “Not… really I guess.”

“What’s wrong?” His mentor’s voice was sharp and he could hear the sound of his seatbelt smacking the window of his car and the door opening and closing as Tony got out of the car.

“It’s not a big deal,” Peter said, going to the front door and unlocking and opening it just as Tony left the elevator, they made eye contact and hung up their phones.

“Well you look to be in one piece and there’s no blood everywhere,” Tony said as he joined Peter in the living room of his apartment and looked him over. “So what’s going on kiddo?”

Peter nibbled on his bottom lip and gripped his right hand into his shirt tightly for just a second before releasing it. “Remember the ferry?”

Mr. Stark was silent and attentive as he listened to Peter ramble and sighed deeply at the end of his story, reaching one hand up to massage his eyes. “You really don’t half-ass anything do you?”

“Do you actually want me to answer that?” Peter asked confused and his mentor rolled his eyes, grabbing Peter’s bag from where it was resting in the hallway.

“Come on then, you have a date with Dr. Cho and the MedBay.” Peter whined but didn’t overly protest when he was directed out of the apartment and down to where Mr. Stark had illegally parked in the fire lane in front of his building.

It was just some muscle straining right? A week or two of meds and resting it and everything would be okay.

“Well its not a strain,” Dr. Cho told him just over an hour later looking at the images of his radiographs and MRI on a holotable. “You’ve torn your rotator cuff and continually re-injured it to the point that its basically just a mass of scar tissue.”

“Oh…” Peter said, a little dazed from the small dose of painkillers he had been given so that they would be able to manipulate his arm for the images. “What does that mean?”

Helen gave him the same disapproving look she had been giving him since she had taken his history and had learned that he had been putting massive amounts of pressure and g-force on an injury that he had never allowed to fully heal. “It means Peter,” she said firmly shutting down the table, “that you’ll need surgery to repair the tear and clean out all the scar tissue. And you’ll need to give it time to heal and go to physical therapy if you plan to ever use your arm to its fullest extent ever again.”

Peter’s mind went a little blank at that. “Surgery?” He asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “But Spider-Man–,”

“Will be taking a break,” Tony told him. “Your health always comes first Peter.” He turned his attention back to Dr. Cho. “Can you tell his aunt all of this later? Also when can we do the surgery.”

“I’ve already got him scheduled for tomorrow morning with a specialist I’m bringing in from NYU,” she said. “And of course! Just let me know when she gets here.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Peter groused from his spot on the exam bed but both adults ignored him and he rolled his eyes. “What if I don’t want surgery?”

“Then you’ll be dealing with chronic pain, pion and needles, weakness and continuous tearing for the rest of your life and you’ll need a shoulder replacement in less than fifteen years at the rate your going,” Dr. Cho said, typing notes into his chart. “So I’ll see you in the morning for the surgery.”

Peter glared at her but, at the twinge in his arm when he adjusted in his seat, he grumbled “fine”.

“It won’t be that bad Underoos,” Tony said later as they sat on the ridiculously large couch in the penthouse living room watching Brooklyn 99 while May spoke with Peter’s medical team. “You get to skip school for the next week while you recover and I bribed Bob Igor to give me the next season of the Mandolorian early for us to binge.”

“But…” Peter gnawed at his lip, hating the taste of blood that filled his mouth as he broke open the tender skin again. “What if this doesn’t fix it?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Tony said with a smile. “Cho is the forefront in development in regeneration. If anyone can fix you it’ll be her. And May and I will be there the whole time. You have nothing to worry about okay?”

“You’ll be there?” Peter said, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt and refusing to look up at his mentor.

“Of course I’ll be there!” Tony said warmly with a squeeze to his good shoulder. “You’re my favorite intern.” He teased.

“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter said sincerely, reading the unsaid bit and relaxing a little back in the couch. Between his pain meds and his full stomach he could feel his eyelids drooping and he decided to relax more fully into Tony’s side – there was no where he felt safer.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump27 #Prompt: Injured #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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fellowstrangetownappreciator · 3 years

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La Fiesta Tech and other unfortunate decisions 1: Greek House powered by hatred (Tank and Johnny)

After my last post about my general play style for university in TS2, here I come with something more specific! (aka a blog that promised to be about gameplay is finally posting gameplay)

I ran 35 Sims through college at once - the 8 Strangetown and Pleasantview teens, La Fiesta Tech premades, plus student bin families from the other two universities. In this post I’ll focus on one of the households, what their general experience was and what are my headcanons about it.

Now, I don’t have the save file anymore. The neighborhood succumbed to corruption just a rotation after, so I restarted. It was a learning experience and now I know to run HoodChecker after every rotation and to batbox gossip memories frequently. However, I’m over it and enjoying my new hood even more, I just thought I write a short disclaimer that these bits won’t have any mentions in future posts. But my interpretation of the characters still stands and doesn’t change regardless of save files.

Anyway, let’s get down to business!

...to defeat Academic Probation.

When Johnny Smith signed up for an assignment to establish and lead a Greek House of his own, he was overjoyed. Even more so when he saw the name "Grunt" as his assigned partner.

Founding a Greek House with Ripp? AWESOME!

But... the Grunt in question wasn't Ripp...

No. It was the a**hole Grunt. They’ve already been living in one dorm (with like 14 other people) and the place was a battleground.

To be fair, Johnny and Tank didn't just fight and nothing else. Yes, fighting was like 90 % of how they usually spent their time together but there was something else...

Chess.

In this particular game Johnny had become surprisingly fond of chess and frequently rolled the want to play it.

Chess has always been Tank's favorite game.

They played quite often and it was one of the rare times they were having fun together and actually talked instead of yelling.

But are a few games of chess enough to earn one forgiveness for a teenhood of nastiness and abuse?

In Johnny's eyes rightfully not.

He had to admit the a**hole is quite chill when he's not being a total d*ckhead but that didn't change anything about the fact that Tank had been terrible to him for no good reason ever since forever and he hated him for that.

Those feelings... weren't completely mutual.

College was Tank's awakening. He found himself away from his father, away from prying eyes that would judge him for not being perfect and for the first time in his life, he felt quite free.

And empty. And alone. He realized he had no friends and that the only person who truly liked him was his father and he would most probably stop if he ever learned of Tank's inner world.

He decided it was a high time for a change.

But habits aren't easy to break, especially if they're the only thing you know. Tank had never learnt to relax around people, never learnt to talk to them just to get to know them, never learnt to express himself, never learnt how to make friends.

Why, he had never needed to! They would have been a weakness, an unmanly stain of lollygagging on his consciousness. He was taught that friendships form themselves on the battlefield and it's a waste of time to try to create them otherwise.

It was quite awkward when he started approaching Ripp in attempts to mend their relationship. Tank has hurt Ripp in the past, he actually treated them quite horribly, fueling his own confidence from being the older, bigger, stronger one and from their father approving of such behavior.

Their father has never said it out loud but it has always been simply there that Tank was the superior one. More obedient, stronger, faster, more masculine. Smarter, even! How could Ripp with an attitude like theirs, with their lousy academic results even compare to by-the-book and hardworking Tank?

Yet it was Ripp who was seemingly happier, like they didn't even care about father's disapproval or the pressure of being the offspring of a venerated general. Tank realized he admired them for that. They did things Tank wouldn't even dream of. They didn't hide who they were.

Forgiveness... forgiveness isn't easy to attain. But Tank was determined to try anyway. At the very least he would stop causing any more harm to his sibling in the future.

It wasn't that straightforward with his new alien roommate, though.

Johnny was special. First he despised him because his father taught him they were inherently dangerous and invasive, they needed to be driven away. But that got quickly buried under memories of aggression and hostile experiences. It was by all means Tank who started it and Johnny was only fighting back but that didn't matter deep in Tank's head, his brain had connected Johnny to unpleasant, awful things regardless.

But he was also the most... attractive person Tank knew. Tank couldn't help himself. He wished Johnny Smith wasn't an alien, so they could've been friends right from the start. He was athletic, even more than Tank, was interested in the same sports as him and was damn good at them, he has always had good grades without seemingly having to study that much, and all around, he would make such a worthy friend!

Friend. Was that something Tank sincerely had on mind when he fantasized about Johnny? (And did he do that a lot!) No. Not at all.

Ripp has long been out, proud and loud about their orientation, not denying they liked boys and girls and anything in between and beyond, and the general was giving them dirty looks and deprecating remarks for it. He wasn't outright punishing them, mainly because he expected nothing more from Ripp and knew his middle child was simply "a weirdo" but Tank was sure his reception would be even worse if he came out.

He was supposed to be the good son, after all. The heir. He was not supposed to think or do or, by the Watcher, be something his father considers perverted and unmanly. He could only imagine the horrible things the general could say to him and the thought alone was enough to make him shudder.

Once again Tank simply didn't understand Ripp. They liked girls, so the world didn't even had to know that it's not all there is to it. They could've just find themselves a girlfriend and not face any judging generals. That's what Tank would do!

But he couldn't. He wasn't like Ripp. He only ever felt attracted to other men and male-presenting people. There was nothing he could do, no way he could force himself to be any other way.

And nobody knew. Not even that girl from their high school that Tank asked to prom so that he didn't look weird. They were on amicable terms but they weren't even friends, they just helped each other out so they didn't seem like outcasts to the whole school on the prom night.

He remembered his father being elated and encouraging him to invite his "girlfriend" for a dinner soon, so he could meet the fine young lady that might just one day become his daughter-in-law.

Tank had to tell him that it unfortunately "didn't work out" and that he "needs to focus on his studies and training anyway" and the general then praised him for it.

Little did he know that his favorite son, even back then, was not only gay but had a hopeless crush on an alien boy.

Every time Tank tried to interact with Johnny and be nice to him, he got reminded of his feelings he was so ashamed of and of his fear of his father disavowing him, so he said something mean instead or didn't talk to him at all.

The only exception was chess.

Sometimes, when a game neared its end, they spoke. And they talked... casually. It was awkward and cautious but it was a conversation and it felt... good.

Playing chess with Johnny became Tank's guilty pleasure. (even worse than watching make-up tutorials on SimTube!)

Being forced by the assignment to live together for six semesters was equal parts a living hell and a dream come true.

They had a small house on La Fiesta Tech premises that they were to transform into a lively Greek House.

"This place looks like shit and smells like a prison cell. Or vice-versa?"

"You got everything you have for free, Smith. Stop bitching."

Johnny sighed and opened up a book. "Says someone whose loaded dad literally sent him money for this house."

"I thought your family was also well off. Is that incorrect?"

"We have a financial situation called None of your business, Grunt."

"Sorry for asking like a normal person."

"Nothing you do is 'like a normal person'."

...

"I quit! You're unhinged, Smith!"

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I found a knife under your pillow!"

"You found -what? Why the f*ck were you looking under my pillow?!"

"I was just changing the sheets. I did mine, so I thought I'll do yours, too!"

"Why the f*ck would you change the sheets on MY flipping bed?"

"Because you are a disgusting manchild and it stank."

"I was gonna change them tonight! And, guess what!"

"What?"

"YOU also have a knife under your pillow!"

"I don't!"

"Yes, you do, liar."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw you put it there yesterday, you galaxy brain. The question is, why the hell do you have a f*cking knife under your pillow?"

"Why do you, Smith?"

"Because I live with your ass. I sleep better knowing you can't just murder me in my sleep. Now you tell."

"Same. I've slept with a knife under my pillow ever since grade school in case a robber got to our house. I won't stop now that I live with YOU!"

"..."

"I won't kill you. I'm not a freak! Killing is wrong, even if it's parasites such as you. And, besides, I'm not stupid. If you turned up dead, I'll would be charged immediately, even if I didn't do it."

"So why do heck do you think I would kill you, Grunt?"

"I... don't know."

"Anyway, were you for real? Are you quitting? We fail this assignment but I'm chill with that if it means getting rid of you."

"No, no! I'm not going anywhere until we pass. I'm not a quitter! But if you want to quit, I'll respect that and be glad this circus is finally over."

"Fine. Are we getting pizza for dinner tonight?"

...

“I invited my family for a lunch...”

“Alright. I’ll be in the library. Or the gym. Haven’t decided yet.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I want you to be here, Grunt.”

“Why? So you can all make fun of me?”

“Stop being so defensive. I want you to be here, so you can just chill with us. And my folks are gonna know you’re actually... okay.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And if you hang out with mom, dad and Jill, you’re gonna know they’re okay, too.”

“That’s not how this works. I can’t just act like we’re friends now and everything’s peachy.”

“Well, who said that? Maybe that’s exactly how it works. You never know until you try!”

“If anything goes wrong-”

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong. It’s not that deep. We’re been living together for nearly three f*cking years and had a sh*tton of time to talk. In fact, I already told them you’re my friend now.”

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t use the F-word!”

Johnny laughed. “What? F*cking? F*ck? C’mon! Your dad can’t hear us!”

“No, the other one. The FR-word.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and grinned. “Go friend yourself!”

“Okay, I’ll stay for the lunch. I’ll go get my tuxedo...”

“Please don’t.”

Reaching a truce was a painfully slow and slowly painful process. Sometimes Johnny wondered if there’s even a point. Sometimes Tank wondered if it wouldn’t be better just to focus fully on his studies and forget that Johnny existed.

But they had to live together, they had to work together organizing parties and happenings in order to grow the Greek House. They had to speak. And when the exams drew nearer, the only person who was available for evening study sessions was usually the other.

What did they study anyway?

Tank rolled the want to major in Drama while Johnny studied Political Science. Tank has never told his father the truth of what his field of study is and knowing his father has access to the university's statistics and probably could fact check that in Tank's house there lives a Drama major and a PolSci major, he pretended he's doing Political Science and Johnny is the one majoring in Drama.

When the general came for a visit to attend Tank's graduation, Johnny played along with his lie.

The relationship between Tank and Johnny improved drastically over the three years. They still weren't exactly close friends but were healing with a prospect of a friendship further along the way.

Were they romantic with one another?

No. Johnny reciprocated Tank's attraction and maybe something could happen in the future but Johnny fell in love autonomously with somebody else.

With a different Grunt, to be exact.

(typing angrily)

Anyway, even though Tank's crush on Johnny ended up futile, it was still a great experience for him.

In college, Tank Grunt really flourished, despite the initial struggle. He realized a lot about himself and started working on his social skills and repairing his relationships.

He also found a friend in none other than Ophelia Nigmos and she became the first person he ever came out to.

Plus, he was the most academically successful Sim of the whole 35 students I played, being the only one who graduated with a flawless 4.0 GPA.

Unlike Ripp, Tank returned back to live with their father and Buck for the time being. He was expected to enter the army and needed a place to be. Moreover, the general was vocal about choosing him as the heir who inherits the Grunt house someday, so it was simply right for Tank to go back and live there.

Was it? Wasn’t it?

Tank was definitely having second thoughts.

He didn’t wonder anymore if military was the right career path for him. He knew it wasn’t.

But was he ready to let the world know who he really was?

#the sims 2 #ts2 #gameplay #la fiesta tech #tank grunt #johnny smith #premades #simbrl

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mhdiaries · 4 years

Photo

Iris Clops SDCC 2014 Exclusive Diary

02.28

I went to the casketball game tonight. It was the district championship game, and if we won it would mean a trip to the monster state tournament. The game was against the same gargoyle team that beat us last year. The game tonight was really close with several lead changes, the gym was totes rocking. I was there to cheer for the whole team, of course, but I was also hoping that Manny would have a better game than he did last year. I know he felt responsible for us losing last year, even though I know that the team didn’t blame him for it. Manny is... well, I’m not sure what Manny is. When he first came to Monster High he acted like a real bully, and most students tried to avoid him at all costs. Something must have happened after that game last year though, because he seems like a different monster since then. Anyway, this year there was a much happier outcome - both for Manny and the team - because not only did we win, but Manny made the winning shot! Adding to the excitement - more or less - okay, less, was my epic fail or rather fall down the bleachers. Typical me, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I stepped where there wasn’t one and badly twisted my ankle. Wow, did that ever hurt! The team athletic trainer, Mr. Mummy, saw what happened and came over to check on me. He had some of the ghouls help me to the training room where he examined my ankle, pronounced it sprained and then did a pretty thorough wrap job on it. He gave me some crutches, then called my parents to let them know what had happened. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to make it to the bit victory party after the game, which was a drag because I heard that Manny asked where I was at.

03.05

I have decided in the interest of science to keep an ongoing list of my bumps, bruises, sprains, spills and breakages. Thus I have developed a clumsification scale so that each incident can be properly measured based on the approximate pain I feel at the time:

Ouch.

Just Give Me a Minute...

Oh, Hera, That Hurt!

Medic!

Don’t go into the light.

My hope is that I will eventually reach a point where in the midst of an “incident” I can just shout out a number and thus save my breath for holding against the agony. I had the chance to practice using my new scale tonight as I tried to navigate my way through the house on crutches. I called out a series of “1′s” while I bumped my way down the hall from my bedroom to the kitchen. When I got there, dad asked if I was all right, and I told him I was just trying out my new scale. “Oh, good,” he said, “I was afraid you’d finally gone binary on us.” I told him that if I didn’t think I would spend the next 15 minutes on the floor yelling “Four!” I would hit him with one of my crutches. He laughed, kissed me on the top of head and slid open the door to the back porch. He closed the door behind me and flicked on the trail of dim blue-green lights that outlined the path to the “observatory” he built for me. My dad is the kind of monster that keeps his eye more to the earth beneath his feet than to the stars above his head, but he is an amazing engineer and he built my observatory with a roof that opens and the whole thing rotates 360° so my telescope never has to move. He’s not much of a “tell you that he loves you” kind of monster, but he shows it all the time. Tonight I rotated my observatory so that I could see a star called Aldebaran. It’s an orange giant and forms one of the eyes in the constellation Taurus - the bull. As I was focusing in, two meteors crashed into each other sending glowing fragments across the night sky like fireworks. If I were the kind of ghoul that looked for omens I might think this was a sign. Hah! As if...

03.06

I was standing at my locker today, and Manny walked right by me without even acknowledging I was there. Maybe I should expand my scale to cover bumps and bruises of the heart as well. If so, today was a definite 2.

03.07

Gigi came over tonight to do some stargazing. She’s so scary sweet and just so excited to experience every little detail of unilfe outside the lantern that she’s a scream to be around. We looked at the rings of Saturn, Mars and Alpha Centaur, and then a storm moved in, and we couldn’t see anything through the cloud cover. So we sat and talked about different things. I jokingly asked her if she had any wishes left, because I was really wishing I could know what was going on inside Manny’s head. She laughed and said that sometimes wishing is more satisfying than actually having the thing for which you have wished. She says it doesn’t sound logical, but it often is true. I’m not sure I understand, but she has a lot more experience seeing the power of wishes granted than I have, so I suppose I’ll just have to trust her on this.

03.09

Today in the creepateria I was sitting at a table with Draculaura, Clawd, Abbey and Heath. Manny walked by our table with his lunch, and Heath invited him to sit with us. The only open seat was across from me, and I swear it looked as if Manny started blushing. I think he was going to say, “No”, but he ended up sitting down anyway. We were right in the middle of a conversation about a comet that only passes by earth close enough to see once every 500 years or so, and Draculaura has seen it the last two times it appeared. She was telling us how some monsters thought it was an omen of doom the last time it passed and they literally went screaming for the catacombs. We were all laughing, and I suggested we have a comet party at my house the next time it shows up. That’s when Manny said, “Who cares about stars and planets and comets and stuff like that? It’s just a dumb waste of time looking at places you can never go to anyhow.” It took me completely by surprise, and I said, “It’s only dumb if you’ve got so much muscle in your brain there’s no room for imagination.” I don’t think I could have been more hurt if he had called me an eyesore. I asked Draculaura if she would take my tray for me, and I grabbed my crutches, hobbled out of the creepateria and straight into the ghoul’s restroom. As I was sitting in a stall crying my eye out, there was a knock on the stall door. “Go away,” I said. “Is Abbey - I punched Manny in nose for you.” I jumped up and opened the door. “You did what?” I yelled. “Relax, I am only doing the teasing.” I was torn between being angry and continuing my number “4″ sized cry. Abbey told me that Manny was like her brother. “He is big like Manny and is having same problem telling Yeti ghoul how he is feeling - so he makes the large snowballs to throw at ghoul he likes. Manny does not have snowball so he throws words.” I told her that I thought it was the dumbest way possible to let a ghoul know that she is liked. Abbey nodded, “Agreed, snowballs are much better as sting is going away sooner.” I think she is right. This “4″ doesn’t act like it’s about to slide down to a three anytime soon, and I guess Gigi was right about not wishing to know what’s in another monster’s head.

03.10

This morning when I opened my locker there was a small, folded up piece of paper wedged in one of the vent slots. It was folded so tightly, I though some monster must have wrapped up a piece of gum and shoved it through my locker because he couldn’t find a trash can. I almost threw it away but I unfolded it instead. Inside in carefully printed block letters was the message,

I’m sorry.

M.T.

I looked around to see if some monster might have done this as a prank, but everything looked normal, or at least as normal as it ever looks at that time of morning with monsters scurrying around trying to get to class on time. In terms of medicine, it certainly took the sting out of my “4″, and if it didn’t take it all away at least it moved it down to a “1″.

03.12

I’m not sure if it will be possible to put what happened today into words, but I think I have to try. We had a special assembly in the creepatorium that every monster was required to attend. The speaker was a famous centaur explorer/biteologist who was going to talk about his travels and adventures. It sounded pretty exciting when Headmistress Bloodgood was making the announcement over the intercom, and by the time I was able to hobble in, all the seats were taken except one in the very middle of a top middle row. I looked around for Manny and saw him several rows about me sitting with Heath. I managed to get to my seat without doing too much damage to either myself or any other monster, but I had to leave my crutches leaning against the wall, since there was no way I could make it down the aisle holding onto them. As it turned out, the speaker was a bit of a blowhard, and after 30 minutes of telling the assembly how great he was, most of us were figuring out this wasn’t going to be as exciting as we were lead to believe. That’s when he brought out the chimera. Although our speaker assured us that he had tamed it, our biteology textbook said that it was impossible to do so. I guess every other monster in the creepatorium had read the same book, because they all started shifting in their seats and looking for the closest exit. The speaker asked for calm and told us the creature was as harmless as a kitten. Not a beat after he said this, the chimera breathed a cone of fire into one of the stage curtains and mass chaos erupted as every monster tried to leave at once. I vaguely remembered seeing my crutches being kicked down the stairs and then disappearing under the mass of students trying to get out. It seemed like it was every monster for himself, and there was no way I was going to be able to get out. That’s when I felt myself lifted out of my seat and I looked up to see Manny’s face looking down and... smiling. “Need a lift?” he asked. I just nodded and before I knew it we were standing outside the school with everyone else. I kissed him on the cheek, and he gently set me down. I think I need a new scale for how my heart feels now.

#monster high #monster high diary #iris clops #sdcc 2014

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dreamcatcherjiah · 4 years

Text

Part 3

The bass was making your body vibrate. The panthers on stage became bigger and bigger and your eyes along with them. You felt so light and painless that the air was leaving your lungs and it was as if all the air next to you wasn’t entering your body but surrounding it, enveloping it, lifting you from the floor. The music was acting as a hymn, giving you a feeling of empowerment and strength that you hadn’t known in such a long time you had forgotten it.

And then the main tune of Dionysus came and the cameras focused on the stage and you stopped breathing. You were in a way prepared for this. You knew perfectly well who started the song, but he looked so… healthy, so active, so him that you couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing. You had spent months worrying about him, about his change of expression every time one of their dances became a bit more strenuous than he could stand, or when one of the boys so much as hugged him tighter than usual. The Jung Hoseok you were seeing now, singing and dancing his heart out on top of a wheeled table had nothing to do with the tired person you had been worrying over for months. His skin was glowing so much, combined with the red microphone and his suit… he was a sight to behold. And you were doing exactly that. Your ears muted to the rest of the world, you saw only him, you saw how he was feeling like himself again, how his facial expressions changed with every dance move and how his body hit every single drop of the beat to the millisecond. His hair, though styled to perfection, moved around him and cackled with electricity. He was glowing.

So engrossed you were on what was happening on the stage, you couldn’t have seen Hyejin’s face, how she looked at you as if she had never seen you before and started noticing all the changes you were seeing with your own two eyes on you. She only remembered seeing you like this years ago, before you started taking pills and looking gloomy and in pain. She used to see you like this when you arrived at the office after dancing, full of energy and radiant. Looking around, she noticed how no one had noticed something special, but then again, BTS were out on stage and when they performed everyone stopped and watched.

How could someone be, look so powerful when mere days before looked as if they had dragged themselves from the grave? His change of attitude began to be noticeable and people began chanting his name, forgetting about the actual fan chants and going all out until the only thing louder than his name was his voice delivering his verse in Not Today. The air around you was electrifying and you weren’t sure what the reason for that was, but you weren’t about to question it. You shouted with the rest of the stadium, jumped and danced with Hyejin like there was no tomorrow. A succession of their songs blessed your ears, one after the other and you enjoyed them to the fullest. But never as much as when a certain member was out on stage.

You were so emotional and so out of it that you didn’t notice the first notes of Outro: Tear until the rest of ARMY were losing their mind over Namjoon going up in the platform. Now you knew something was weird. You couldn’t even see Hoseok from where you were standing but you knew exactly where he was. There was a pressure on your body to move towards him, to go to where he was and envelop him in your arms. And just when he came out and the big screen got him on camera you lost it as well. How could he be glowing so much, his eyes were piercing your soul through a giant screen. Were you dehydrated, had the sun messed with your head? Had you taken one too many pills and were having hallucinations? Because you could have sworn your whole soul was screaming out his name.

On a normal day, you were just the normal ARMY, feeling a bit happier when any of the seven did something, posted something on SNS. You didn’t like one of them more than the next, but today, oh today, you were hanging on Hoseok’s every move and word as if you were a woman starving and he was the last meal on the planet. Okay, that sounded wrong, were you really that delirious?

Along with the people around you, you screamed your lungs out, danced and continued to question your sanity through every gesture, dance move and smile this man directed in your general direction. Because he was fixated with your section. You heard somewhere that they decide what section of the venue each of them is gonna focus on beforehand, and then they rotated but this was insane. It was as if he was being pulled like a magnet, no matter the song, his position on the stage, whenever they interacted a bit with ARMY, you had J-hope standing in front of you in all his glory.

During the pause to wait for the encore, you sat down. How was it that you had so much energy? How had you been giving it your all for HOURS and not fainted out of pain?

“You were on fire before, Y/n-ah!!” Said Hyejin after drinking a bit of water. “I swear, if Hobi hasn’t noticed you yet, those stage lights must be stronger than I thought”.

You only laughed, incredibly happy that you were there, with her, surrounded by ARMYs who were enjoying just as much as you were and, on top of everything, with BTS.

Today was a day you wouldn’t forget easily.

Before the encore found the seven members of BTS getting dressed in comfortable clothes backstage. Six of them were watching Hoseok jumping up and down, trying to burn the energy coursing through him.

“I think he has been possessed…” whispered Yoongi, loud enough for all to hear him, but Hobi didn’t seem to pay him any mind. He just kept moving, smiling and jumping, all of it without breaking into a sweat.

“How… Just how is he so… Hobi without painkillers?” Wondered Namjoon. “All of you watched him dancing as his life depended on it or was it just me?”

“Nah,” answered Seokjin, “I saw him practically glued to the left section of stage B, he looked as if he was gonna jump off the stage.” Jin facepalmed just as Hoseok started asking one of the staffs if they could already go up on stage.

“But Jungkook and Jimin are not ready yet…” answered a flustered and puzzled staff member.

Hoseok turned his eyes to a specific direction and touched his chest, just above his heart. Suddenly, there was a noise and everyone turned to see a dumbfounded Taehyung looking at Hoseok as if he had grown a second head, coffee cup staining the floor. Stuttering, he approached his hyung and, taking him by the shoulders turned him in the direction he was looking before. The rest of BTS surrounded them, no need for more people to start looking at those two as if they were insane, better safe than sorry, they say.

“Hyung, why were you looking in this direction before?” Asked a worried Taehyung.

“I don’t know…” wondered aloud Hoseok. “I just know I want to go that way. My chest is not hurting anymore, but it’s pulling me forward,” he moved his right hand forward, pointing over Tae’s shoulder, “in that direction.”

After that, some of the other members seemed to catch on. They looked to Taehyung expectantly, at how he couldn’t stop looking at Hoseok’s chest, and then turn around and look at the wall puzzled.

They got the call to go up on stage for Anpanman and Hoseok instantly forgot about Tae and the rest of his members in favour of jumping back to the door and rush through the corridors to get to the platform. He was so excited that he nearly knocked off their feet every person he encountered on his way, but with a loud ‘sorry’ he kept waling forward. Once the seven of them were ready to go up to stage B, Taehyung looked back and nodded, resolute. He was practically sure, he just needed to check something.

The music started blasting through their in-ears and the seven men put on their professional faces and stage names and up they went.

The crowd went mad, but that was nothing new. What Taehyung was looking for was among the masses on the right side of the stage, but the lights were too bright and shining directly on his face, to distinguish any face, let alone a thin red thread. Hoseok was already stuck to that side of the stage, and none of the rest of the members had the heart to tell him to move to another place. He did his job really well, moving to the centre of the stage when it was his time to rap, the choreographies were all on point and he hyped up ARMY like any of them were doing, even better. The crowd had obviously noticed how he was a changed man and he had been the man of the night since the moment he stood proud on top of the table at the beginning of Dionysus. There was no denying that something had happened, something that none of them had witnessed in the months or even years when Hobi had been a gloomy mess. And he would be damned, Taehyung thought, if he left the venue today without finding out the cause of his brother’s euphoria… No pun intended. So when the new bouncy castle was inflated and it was safe for them to go up, he was the first one to climb the plastic steps and stand on top looking around. Half his mind was occupied on not forgetting the lyrics and the cues he had to follow not to mess up the song, the other half only occupied on following Hobi hyung around the stage, trying to see where the other end of the red string ended. Frustrated, he slid down from the castle next to Jiminie and continued the concert, more frustrated than ever with the lights hitting his face.

It wasn’t until the mobile phone wave just before Mikrokosmos that he was able to see clearly and with his eyes widening, he was able to see a girl, a couple of rows away from the stage, proudly sporting a Mang headband and literally glowing. She was the only one in her row not putting her flashlight up, she was just looking at them, at Hobi hyung, if he was correct, with her hands clasped tightly atop her heart, with clear eyes and the brightest smile he had ever seen in someone that wasn’t Hoseok. She had to be it, the person he had been looking for during the concert. If his theory was correct, she was the one causing the change in his hyung’s behaviour and the improvement of his health. Euphoric, he was the one now who couldn’t stop smiling, and it didn’t matter as much that this was the final concert of their tour, and it would be some months still before they got to meet ARMY again. He was still sad and emotional, but the sole thought of his hyung being okay again changed everything.

The final chords of Mikrokosmos sounded finally, they did the customary bows and down on the platform they were. The concert was over, the fireworks and the drones were adorning the sky, and he wasted no time in taking out his in-ears and reaching Hoseok, at the same time collecting the rest of the members that had dispersed around, drinking water, discarding pieces of jewellery or clothing. Once the seven of them were forming a circle, Taehyung looked at each and every one of them in the eyes and whispered.

“She’s here, I saw the string disappearing into her chest, and she was as hyper as Hoseok hyung here,” the surprise in the rest of their faces was substituted by trepidation and slowly fading into determination, “she’s wearing a Mang headband and I would recognise her if I saw her again, we need to find her tonight.”

Six heads nodded and each went their way to change as fast as they possibly could. Namjoon took it upon himself to talk to manager Sejin and everyone he knew they could trust. Their manager sent some people out first to try and find the girl, but they all knew that who they really needed was Taehyung, and now more than ever, now that Hoseok was starting to show signs of pain again. His soulmate was leaving the venue, and with her were leaving the possibilities of a healthy and happy Hoseok.

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 3

A/n: After I made you wait an eternity, here is part 3 finally 😆😆😆 I've been having two exams a week since the 10th of January, so you can imagine how busy (nearly at the point of pulling my hair out😀) I've been :) I hope you like this update, and let's chat!! I missed you guys❤️💜

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimist7 @lyssjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 4 years

Note

Yang really seems like the type to say 'I'm going to shove a candy cane up my ass, I'm so excited!' but since that's a lil weird and the worst starter, can we actually get 'There's NO way I'm losing this Christmas decorating contest' Yang?

I don’t know how I ended up writing a Normal AU Rebel Blake that firmly believes that Hallmark holidays are a big corporate scam but here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

Fun little fact; Blake may play it cool, but she’s a secret softy that still wants to spoil her friends and family so she goes to small, family run businesses to buy them gifts and food. She still partakes in their traditions because of how important it is to them, such as decorating and having meals together on these holidays.

Also fun fact; everybody knows this but they let her play it cool... Yang thinks it’s adorable and in return gets all of her decorating from small businesses as well.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“There’s NO way I’m losing this decorating competition!” Yang exclaimed, as she barged into Blake’s room, hoisted her off of her bed and threw a mildly alarmed roommate over her shoulder, walking them both to their living room.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Blake said dryly, ears pinning, as she dug her elbow into the small of her best friend’s back and rested her chin in her hand. “But was throwing me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes strictly necessary?”

Blake let out an indignant yelp when Yang jolted her shoulder, jostling Blake.

“Yup.” She said, cheerfully popping the p. “I know you, Belladonna. You hate decorating anything. So I’m drafting you.”

“By carrying me?”

“Ruby and Weiss win every year. I refuse to lose!” She popped Blake down in their living room and got down on one knee. Blake was immensely grateful that she had the excuse of being upside down as to why she blushing bright red. “So Blake Belladonna? Will you do me the owner of destroying them?”

Blake run her tongue over her bottom lip piercing, both thoughtful and nervous. Her hand scratched at her side shave and she adjusted her T-shirt anxiously and her ears were rotating anxiously.

“I don’t think-“ she paused at the wounded puppy dog face that Yang gave her. God help her, she was weak. “That there’s anything else that I would be more honoured to do.” Weak.

“YES!” Yang squealed happily, standing up and wrapping her arms around Blake’s waist, lifting her high into the air and spinning around. “You beautiful woman, you! You won’t regret this, I promise!”

Blake stumbled when Yang dropped her and ran off to get her decorations.

What was happening to Blake? She had spent her teenage years protesting and setting shit on fire. Demanding answers and equality.

Then she meets sunshine reincarnate at college. Gets involved in some drama that brings the two closer together. And now the nerd’s not just her best friend but also her roommate.

And Blake was absolutely head over heels for her.

So much for being a “stoic, badass rebel,” as Sun had once called her.

“Blake! You’re definitely wearing an ugly sweater! I have the perfect one! It’s got knives on it!”

Blake sighed wearily and ran her tongue over her piercing again. Maybe Weiss had a point when she said that Blake was obvious.

But when Yang walked out, sweaters in hand and a giant smile on her face, Blake couldn’t care less.

Not when she was happier with Yang than she had been in a very long time.

“I still think that this Hallmark holiday bullshit is a giant waste of resources.”

“Used by big time corporations to exploit us, yes, Blake. I know. Now put on your sweater and grab some tinsel. We got some short asses to kick.”

#rwby #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang xiao long #fanfic

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takerfoxx · 5 years

Text

RD Walpurgis Nights 8, Part 10

Then…

It was sort of funny how quickly someone can hit their respective weirdness threshold, and what they were willing to accept once they’ve smashed through.

If someone were to tell Homulilly and Kriemhild Gretchen that they were dead and currently in some kind of exclusive purgatory reserved for those who had been ensnared by an alien’s con when under normal circumstances (whatever those happened to be), they would probably laugh nervously, exchange uncomfortable glances, and start edging for the exit.

But after waking up as humanoid abominations stuck in a madcap city of giant clocks, rotating city blocks, and bi-polar weather, the only reaction they had for everything that they had been told was something to the tune of, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The owners of the spaceship that had rescued them had introduced themselves as the Doomsday Clock Spawn Site Search and Rescue. Apparently, Doomsday Clock had been the name of that constantly rotating city (an appropriate name if Homulilly had ever heard one), they had appeared there because it was a “spawn site,” and many spawn sites had search and rescue organizations who, well, searched them to rescue anyone that spawned there.

It was kind of crazy how logical and organized the insanity was.

The rest though made even less sense. Their rescuers had promised that everything would be explained in full in time, but for now all they would say was that Kriemhild and Homulilly were in some kind of hodgepodge afterlife intended for “people like them.” Exactly what that meant, neither of them understood. It wasn’t being a monster, per se. There were other people like them walking around, girls with monstrous features. But there were also many who looked completely normal. They had been told that those who were part monster were known as “witches,” name that quite frankly felt wholly accurate, while those who were not were called Puella Magi, and apparently Puella Magi became witches if they became too sad or something, it didn’t make any sense!

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” said Rachel Corsco, a freckled redhead with an American Southern accent that was looking out for the pair. “And believe me, I’ve been here for many years, and there are still parts that don’t make any sense. But believe me when I say as strange as everything might seem, and as scary as everything might seem, you are safe. We’re all in the same boat, and we look after one another.”

Kriemhild and Homulilly exchanged uneasy glances. Kriemhild cleared her throat. “Um, I-I’m glad to hear that, and I understand why you’re taking your time explaining things to us. But you haven’t told us why we can’t remember anything.”

The three of them were sitting together at a round table at a sort community room. Kriemhild and Homulilly were thankfully now clothed. Granted, it was just loose-fitting grey sweaters and a pair of grey sweatpants for Homulilly and an altered set of shorts for Homulilly, but they were warm and comfortable. They had already had a long nap in warm beds and been given hot showers, followed by a full meal, so they were feeling oh so much better. But now that their physical needs had been met, that left them with their endless questions to take up their attention.

“That’s the downside of being a witch, I’m afraid,” Rachel said sympathetically. “All witches lose their memories of who they were.”

“But that’s terrible!” Gretchen cried. “You mean everything we were, like our names and our friends and our families are just gone? Can’t you see how horrible that it?” She wasn’t the only one having outbursts. Around the room were other tables where a handful of other newly arrived girls were talking to other members of the staff. Some were as upset as she was. Some were crying. A few were angry. Others were stunned silent. But none of them were at all happy.

As for Homulilly, she just sat with her legs drawn up onto her chair and her sleeves pulled down over her hands, with her arms hugging her stomach. She had been very nervous about showing her skeletal arms to anyone other than Kriemhild ever since arriving.

“I do, and it is,” Rachel agreed. “It’s a terrible, unfair system that ought to be destroyed. Unfortunately, we can’t do that from here. We’re the victims of that system, and the universe owes us big time for what it took from us, a debt that it will never repay. Yes, it’s sick, it’s cruel, it’s evil.” She picked up a napkin and started twisting it in her hands. “And if I could get my hands on the necks of those who did this to us, I would squeeze their heads off until they popped! Any of us would!” She sat back with a sigh. “But I can’t. We can’t. All we can do is try to build the best life we can.”

Kriemhild felt her lower lip start to tremble. “So there’s nothing you can tell us? About who we were and what happened to us?”

“Nothing,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “That’s how it goes for everyone who becomes a Puella Magi. You die fighting, or you become a witch, and then you die. It’s what happened to all of us.”

Kriemhild felt her throat tighten. She grabbed up her glass of water and gulped it down. It helped to ease some of the tension, but not all. “Wh-When you become a witch, um, you just sort of forget who you were and get a little weird-looking, right? Why would anyone kill us then?”

Rachel shook her head. “No. Witches, full witches, are pretty scary. It’s the being killed that gives you back your humanity.”

The tension got worse. “So we were actual monsters, is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m afraid so.”

This was just so much to take in. Kriemhild sat back, her head in her hands, her legs twisting themselves into knots.

Then suddenly, Homulilly spoke. “What did we look like?” she asked, sounding more curious than horrified. “Or is that gone too?”

Rachel hesitated, and then said, “No. That I can show you. But I warn you, it’s…not pretty.”

“I want to know,” Homulilly said. She glanced over to Kriemhild.

To be quite frank, Kriemhild really could do without knowing what kind of hideous beast she had been transformed into. But even she had to admit to some measure of curiosity. After a bit she slowly nodded.

Rachel reached into a binder she had and withdrew a photograph. “You couldn’t really see this from where you were tied up,” she said. “But I think this was an accurate representation.”

The picture was of the giant clock face. The many, many hands were still there, all of them weirdly spiraling like vines or smoke, the one Homulilly had been tied to sticking straight up. There was a tiny pink thing wrapped around its base, which Kriemhild guessed had probably been that bow that had been strangling her.

But there was something else too. The clock face was painted with a giant mural. Sure enough, it looked like two monsters, one of them facing up, the other facing down, with the bottoms of their bodies fused together, forming a sort of reverse-hourglass shape.

The one on top was vaguely humanoid, sure, but it was a made of a nightmare of sketchy lines, like a manic child’s painting. It had long, grasping hands, glowing pink eyes, and a pair of twintails, as out of place as that was. From the waist down it was a monstrous mass of lines that formed the vague shape of a billowing skirt, like vines or pipes.

Or wires.

The other monster, the one that was upside-down, was a human skeleton wearing a purple dress. It had its bony hands spread wide, as if to embrace the world. The top of its skull had been cleaved off, and in its place was a massive red flower, a blown-up version of the one growing out of the top of Homulilly’s head.

“Oh my God,” Kriemhild whispered. Homulilly said nothing. She just stared in fascination.

“You two are something known as a Walpurgisnacht,” Rachel said, putting the picture back. “It’s when two separate witches combine and become one larger witch.”

Homulilly perked up. “We were one person?”

“In a sense. You shared a soul for a time. You might have felt it, actually. A sense of connection, even if you didn’t know each other’s name?”

Kriemhild looked over to Homulilly, and Homulilly looked back. Together they nodded.

“Then you two actually have a leg up over everyone else. Those who have that connection often have an easier time settling in. Something to do with the mutual support.”

That at least made a little bit of sense. Kriemhild’s head was still spinning with everything she was being told, and she knew her mind was probably going to be blown again more times in the very near future. But at the very least Homulilly would be there with her. That gave her a little bit of hope and courage.

“And as for your memories…” Rachel sighed. “Girls, I know this is a hard thing to hear, but you’re better off just trying to build new lives instead of chasing the old. I know you want to know who you were, but those memories are gone. Instead of focusing on them, just work on being Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly. You’ll both be happier for it.”

…

Now…

Charlotte lay in her bunk in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

The rest of the gang had opted to share a room together. However, she had requested a private room. Fortunately, the Aurora Borealis did not require an exceptionally large staff to run, and they did have rooms to spare.

Part of her wished that they didn’t. That way, she would be forced to confront something that she didn’t have the strength to do on her own.

But then, most of her wished a great many things, and she had gotten none of them granted.

The storm had cleared up from what she could tell. That meant it would almost be time to go home.

Home. The lovely two-story house that she shared with her Walpurgisnacht, with her family. Any other time she would be desperate to go home, to settle back to some semblance of normalcy and put the whole nightmare behind her.

She couldn’t though. Because part of that nightmare would be coming with her.

The sound of numerous small, sharp impacts against the hard floor came from down the hall, outside her room. She knew that sound. She knew what was coming.

The pattering came closer and then stopped outside her door. Charlotte tensed up.

Several moments of silence passed, no doubt due to the other person building up the courage to knock. But knock they did.

“Charlotte?” Gretchen said from the other side of the door. “It’s me!”

Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen. Sweet, innocent Gretchen, who always just wanted everyone to get along and love one another. Gretchen, who was too kindhearted for her own good, who wouldn’t hesitated to put herself in danger if it meant helping someone else.

Which was kind of the problem.

“So, um, can I come in?”

Charlotte turned her back toward the door.

“Um, okay. I’m just going to keep talking then. Anyway, you probably already heard this, but the storm’s over! That means we’ll be heading back soon. And, um, I was really hoping that you’d come talk to us before we left. We really missed you the last few nights. It’s just not the same without you, you know?”

The same. As if her presence would ever make things the same.

“A-And, well, I know you’re really upset about what happened to Candeloro. I get it. But it’s still her, you know? Like, she’s still the same person, and she misses you terribly. And I know if you just talked to her you would realize this. I know you still love her, you’re just scared that because she’s different now that means she’s gone. But she’s not gone, Charlotte. You don’t have to be scared. Because if we all stuck together, I know we can get used to how things are now and get back to the way things used to be. Or at least, get used to how things are now. We’d be happy again, is what I mean. But we need you to do that! Please, open the door.”

Charlotte snatched up her pillow and pressed it down over her head.

“Charlotte?”

Her eyes were startling to prickle. Sniffing, she fished out the detritus with a finger.

“Charlotte, please. I know you’re not asleep. I know you can hear me.”

And how she wished that that wasn’t the case.

A silence passed that seemed to stretch for ever. But finally, she heard Gretchen sigh. “Okay.” Then she heard the patter of Gretchen’s legs as she morosely walked away.

Charlotte waited until she was certain that no one else was coming to talk to her. Then she got up and turned the light on.

Her phone was unfortunately still at the bottom of the sea, but all the sleeping quarters were equipped with computers, including hers. Turning her on, she scrolled through the various options and functions until she found what she was looking for.

Given how isolated they were, the Aurora Borealis had working relationships with most other deep-sea installations and any other local marine business, with Oktavia just being example.

As it so happened, Charlotte was familiar with at least one other, one that she knew well enough to contact. She fished around until she found their contact information. Then she sent the call through.

…

Hitomi stood on the front deck of the Aurora Borealis, looking out to sea.

The whole of the ship was thrust upon at an angle onto a reef, sandwiched between two rising walls. The back end of the ship was submerged in the water, while the front poked out beyond the reef, with nothing but the sea beneath.

It was the same place she had encountered Sayaka earlier, and apparently it was some kind of ocean laboratory or something. Apparently now that the weather had calmed, someone was on their way to pick her up. In the meantime, the scientists seemed to be at a loss as to what to do with her. They couldn’t keep her locked up, as there was no place she couldn’t go. At one point, she had overhead them suggesting that they simply sedate her and let her wake up in the FIB’s care. Hitomi had considered simply leaving after that. After all, they couldn’t stop her. She could go wherever she wanted.

Unfortunately, there really was no place she wanted to go, save for down.

She stared down at the still waters beneath. They seemed so friendly, so inviting. Granted, she couldn’t actually die and pass on; she knew that now. But could she just stay drowned, just remain a floating body for the rest of…forever? Oblivion seemed awfully tempting right about now.

Hitomi removed the finger she had been chewing on from her mouth and nervously licked her lips. Maybe that would be for the best.

“You know, if you’re thinking of taking a swan dive, doing it right next to a whole facility of professional divers probably ain’t the smartest place to do it,” said someone approaching her from behind. “They’ll have you fished out in no time and probably be annoyed at having to do it.”

Hitomi started. She had been so wrapped up in her private thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed anyone coming toward her. Trembling, she turned to see.

Ophelia walked toward her. In contrast to the flamboyant outfits Hitomi had seen her with, she was just wearing a pair of black shorts, a grey tee-shirt with the Aurora Borealis’s logo, a pair of disposable sunglasses, and a blue baseball cap with the same logo as the shirt. She was holding what looked like a chocolate protein bar in a silver wrapper

Hitomi felt a flush of fear. Of all of Madoka and Sayaka’s friends, Ophelia had been the one she had wanted to avoid the most. There was just something about her that pegged her as the most likely to actually do something violent. She shrank back into herself as Ophelia walked right up to stand next to her, one foot on the railing.

“So,” Ophelia said, staring out to sea. She propped one leg up on the middle rung of the railing and rested her arm on her knee. “You’re the one we have to thank for our current mess.”

Hitomi swallowed. She glanced up at her umbrella.

“Don’t bother,” Ophelia said. “I’ve got powers too, remember? Try to split, and you’ll find me right next to you. And I’m gonna be pissed.”

Was she bluffing? Hitomi honestly couldn’t tell. She couldn’t see the other girl’s eyes behind her sunglasses, and Ophelia wasn’t even looking at her.

Hitomi looked back up at her umbrella, then back to Ophelia, then back at her umbrella.

Then she folded it up and let it disappear.

“Smart move,” Ophelia said. “First one you’ve had.”

Hitomi pursed her lips. “Are you going to hurt me?” she said. Her voice felt dry and rusty.

“Do I really seem like that sort of person to you?”

“I don’t know,” Hitomi said honestly. “But…But I know you must hate me.”

“Hmmm.” Ophelia took a bite of her protein bar, tearing off a chunk with a rather prominent fang and chewing in an unnecessarily aggressive manner. She swallowed. “Well, I don’t especially care for you, I’ll tell you that much. Also, Homulilly really wants to crush your head like a grape, so I’d stay away from her. Who knows what’s going through Charlotte’s head? But whatever it is, she is not in a good place right now, so you’d be better off staying out of her way. Candeloro is really not in a good place either, so you’d be wise to avoid her as well. Come to think of it, Gretchen’s probably the only one with anything nice to say to you, and she’s nice to literally everybody.”

Hitomi closed her eyes and inhaled slowly through her nose. That was more-or-less what she had expect. “And…” What was her new name again?” “…Oktavia? What about her?”

Instead of answering, Ophelia just gave her the briefest of glances before taking another bite.

“Oh.”

“You’re kind of a strange puzzle for us, Hitomi,” Ophelia said. “What are we going to do with you?”

It didn’t sound like a question that wanted an answer, so Hitomi said nothing.

“I mean, you expect this sort of thing from someone who’s brand new and still coming to terms with things. So no, I can’t really blame you for acting out. But damn, have you royally fucked us over.”

Oh, to heck with it. Either Ophelia was going to beat her up or she wasn’t. No point in staying restrained any longer. “B-But how?” Hitomi said. “What have I done? Was it just the talk with Ma-with Gretchen? Was it because I showed up to say goodbye? I didn’t tell them to follow me! And I sure as heck didn’t mean for them to jump in after me!”

Now Ophelia did look at her. “The problems started almost immediately,” she said. “Right after you yelled at her and Homulilly in the hallway. And everything you told Charlotte only made it worse.”

Now Hitomi was starting to get angry. “So how is that my fault?” she demanded. “I didn’t know any better! What was I supposed to have done after seeing my friend again? A-And you guys set up that talk with Charlotte! She asked questions, and I gave answers!”

“True,” Ophelia said. “But-”

“But what? Is this because I ran away? Of course I did! I couldn’t stay there, not with those people! A-And I asked her if she wanted to talk! I didn’t make her, I asked her!” She turned away. “Everyone keeps treating me like I’ve got some sort of disease, like just touching me is going to make you shrivel up and die! All I wanted was my friends back! That’s it! A-And I know I can’t get them back, but I had to at least see them!”

Ophelia breathed out. “Okay. Okay. Except that disease analogy is kind of right on the money! Sure, you just wanted to see your friends, but we just wanted to make sure that our friends weren’t driven insane, which is what almost happened!”

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair. “But I didn’t make the sea monster! I didn’t make that storm! And I didn’t make anyone jump in after me! O-Okay, going to talk to Gretchen was reckless, fine! But I stopped myself before talking to Sayaka, and I just wanted everything to stop hurting, to stop me from hurting anyone else! Everything that happened after that was totally beyond my control!

“A-And I’m sorry for everything that’s happened because of me, but really! Most of it wasn’t my fault! Okay, maybe some of it, but you’re acting like I made all that stuff happen on purpose!

“Except…except I keep pushing when I knew I shouldn’t. I kept trying even after everyone told me it was a bad idea. Even Marisa tried to stop me. But I kept going anyway. I w-w-wanted to see them again so badly, to just talk to them. But I couldn’t even have that.”

She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her wrist. “Your world is cruel. Everyone goes on and on about how nice it is and how things will get better if I just go along, but look at what happened! I find my friends, the ones I was looking for, and you take them away! I try to talk to them, and it apparently causes everything to break down! I barely did anything, and yet somehow I ruined everything. Your perfect world was set against me from the start, and you know it!”

As Hitomi talked and talked, Ophelia didn’t say anything. She just stood there, leaning backward against the railing, listening. And when Hitomi finally said the last of her piece, she didn’t immediately reply, neither to condemn or exonerate her. She just thoughtfully looked off at the sky.

Then she sighed and straightened up. “You know, sometimes it just takes a couple pushes in the right place to knock something fragile down and smash it to pieces,” she said. “Doesn’t take much, might seem like you’re doing anything bad. It’s just a slight nudge, right? What’s the harm? But that doesn’t matter when it’s falling to the floor. Especially after you’ve been told not to touch the damn thing.”

Hitomi looked away.

“Now, you had reason, sure. Got dealt a shitty hand and all that. And fine, we made some dumb calls ourselves. And the storm and sea monster were just plain bad luck, okay. And…” Ophelia sighed. “Look, I’m not saying you’re a monster or anything. And okay, most of it wasn’t your fault. But some of it is. And since we can’t just stick you somewhere safe until you get it through your head that you can’t do whatever you want without consequences, I gotta get it through your head right now. The rules are different now, and just because they ain’t fair don’t mean that you can’t just ignore them and start whining when people get hurt.”

Hitomi’s scowl deepened. “May I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“What would you have done if you were me?” she demanded. “If you got snatched away from your home and your family and were stuck in a…a weird and terrifying new world, and everyone was telling you that you could never go home again, could never see your mother and father again, that you were stuck there forever?”

“Well, I suppose that I’d-”

“But you found out that your friends were there! Like, right before you got sent there, Gretchen and Oktavia both disappeared, and you were driving yourself crazy trying to find them! But hey, they’re where you are now, except they’re not Gretchen and Oktavia anymore, they’re Madoka and Sayaka, and they don’t even remember you or anything about you, and you’re not allowed to even talk to them, and they go and lock you up underground with a bunch of crazy and violent people to keep you from talking to them, and you don’t know if you’re ever going to get out again, or if someone’ll just snap and attack you, but you suddenly find a way to escape and you want nothing more to see the people you love again? What would you have done, huh?”

Ophelia tched. She looked back out to the ocean. “I figured you’d ask that. And if it had been me…or specifically, if it had been Kyoko Sakura in your place, then…” She shrugged. “Then I’d probably have done the same thing as you. Or fucked things up some other way. Okay, you got me there.”

Hitomi swallowed. “Th-There. You see?”

“That still wouldn’t have made it right though. Or the damage I’d be causing any less real.” She turned her head to look Hitomi directly in the eye, her piercing scarlet gaze now as cold as Homura’s had been when she had suddenly showed up in Hitomi’s room. “And if I ended up fucking things up, anyone would be justified in smacking me upside the head.”

It was then that Hitomi realized that she had been completely in the right to fear Ophelia. Maybe she wasn’t exactly the violent sort, but she was someone who would have no problem whatsoever with punching Hitomi’s lights out if she felt that she had reason. And from the looks of it, she was getting to that point.

Rather than continue to risk antagonizing her, Hitomi averted her gaze, looking back toward the sea. Ophelia didn’t, however. Though she wasn’t looking at her, Hitomi could feel the other’s eyes upon her, almost as if she were waiting for Hitomi to give her a reason to turn things ugly.

Finally Ophelia looked away as well. “Well, I guess it’s a little too late for that anyway,” she said softly. “Damage done. All I can do is try to get you to start thinking smart before you hurt yourself even more.”

Hitomi sighed. Now that she had exhausted her anger, her shame was starting to come back. “Did I really mess things up that badly?”

“Kinda.”

“Oh. I…uh…”

Ophelia held up a palm. “Save the apologies. Wait until you’ve worked your way through your crap. Then maybe we’ll talk.”

It was then that Hitomi became aware of a familiar sound behind her, a sort of recurring whine-hiss coupled with soft thuds that was steadily getting louder.

“Anyway, I’m not the only person that wants to talk to you.”

Hitomi froze. No. No, it couldn’t be.

The rhythmic hissing got louder, as did the low thuds. Hitomi didn’t dare turn around to face it.

She didn’t need to. They came to a stop right next to her.

“I’m just going to leave you two alone for now,” Ophelia said. She tipped her hat. “Cheers.”

She left. Hitomi kept her face pointed out to sea. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around, couldn’t bring herself to face the other person that was now sitting directly next to her.

Then the other person said with a belabored sigh, “So, you gonna talk to me or something, or am I gonna have to grab yah?”

Wincing, Hitomi slowly turned toward her.

Sayaka was there, sitting in her mechanical chair with her hands folded in her lap and an expectant look on her face. She was wearing the same kind of shirt as Ophelia and had her brown cap back on.

She was also the most beautiful thing Hitomi had ever seen.

A thousand memories flashed through Hitomi’s head. Meeting Sayaka at their parents’ benefit dinner. Sayaka teaching her how to hold a softball bat. Sayaka showing up unannounced at her front door with an entire spool of CD’s that she wanted Hitomi to listen to. Sayaka yelling at her for forgetting Madoka’s birthday only to drag her on an impromptu shopping trip, helping her pick out the perfect gift, wrapping it up for her, and being the one to sneak it into Madoka’s room before the other even noticed that anything was amiss. Sayaka introducing her to Kyousuke, and being overjoyed upon seeing the look of delight on Hitomi’s face when she heard him play for the first time.

But there were other memories too. Sayaka’s face filling with grief and despair when she heard about Kyousuke’s accident, only to suddenly start laughing and proclaiming that there was no way a little accident would keep him down and he would be charming the nurses with his violin within a month, tops! Sayaka visiting him whenever she could and happily telling Hitomi about how much progress he was making and how he was sure to be discharged any day, even though Hitomi could hear the tears in her voice. Sayaka standing at the music rack at the mall, staring with blank eyes at the Classical section.

Sayaka suddenly growing distant and spending all of her time with Madoka, Homura, and Mami Tomoe. Sayaka seeming to have been paradoxically rejuvenated and exhausted, always walking with a spring in her step and a renewed sense of purpose, despite the fact that she was now always falling asleep in class, forgetting her homework even more often than before, and having her grades take a sudden plunge. Sayaka withdrawing even further even when Kyousuke had miraculously recovered as she had predicted. The look on Sayaka’s face when Hitomi had finally confronted her about her feelings for Kyousuke and presenting her ultimatum.

Then there was the worry when Sayaka didn’t show up for school. The sense of growing fear and dread when she continued to not show up, when Madoka had lost all life and joy, when Sayaka’s parents had called Hitomi’s asking if she knew where she had gone. The sour fear turning to desperate anger as she became convinced that something did happen to Sayaka, that her friend might be dead and it was all Hitomi’s fault.

And now Sayaka was there, right next to her.

“So,” Sayaka said. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

Hitomi silently nodded.

Sayaka nodded as well. “You found me the other day, but split before saying hi! Now come on. That’s just rude.”

Back in the day, Hitomi had no trouble whatsoever with telling when Sayaka was messing with her. But after everything that had happened, she really had no idea how to respond to something like that. “I…uh…”

“Yeah, I guess that wasn’t funny,” Sayaka sighed. She took off her cap and ran her fingers through her shaggy blue hair. All this time, and she still cut her hair the same way. “Sorry. Um…”

She coughed. Hitomi sniffed and scratched her nose.

“So…this is awkward,” Sayaka said after a bit.

Hitomi still didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she was allowed to say. So she said nothing.

“Might be better if you went first.”

“I…” Hitomi’s brow scrunched up. “Wh-What do you mean?”

Sayaka spread her hands in her lap. “Well, if you’ve been trying to find me, then it stands to reason that you must have something you wanna say. So…go ahead.”

“Uh, er, what? I don’t understand. I-I’ve been having people yell at me all…always about not doing that, not talking to you.” Hitomi gestured helplessly back where Ophelia had walked off toward. “Your…girlfriend just told me in no uncertain terms that I did an incredible amount of harm to you and your friends just by trying to talk to you and…and Gretchen.” The name still sounded wrong on her tongue, but she was trying very hard not to offend. “And now you want me to just say everything I’ve been wanting to say to you? I don’t understand that at all!”

“Yeah, that would sound pretty weird,” Sayaka admitted. “Okay, I don’t know what you’ve been told about what’s happened since we fished you guys out of the sea, but all the spiritual dissonance that you gave us seems to have cleared up. I’ve heard my old name a couple times now, and it hasn’t bothered me any. So while it was dangerous then, I think it might be okay now.”

“You think?”

Sayaka shrugged and grimaced. “Look, I took a nap and had this weird dream that…I can’t really remember, but it left we with a sense that everything’s going to be okay, and I should talk to you after all, if that makes any sense.”

“It…no, it doesn’t! You’re telling me that it’s suddenly okay to talk to you about who you used to be because…you had a dream?”

“Hey, I’m not claiming that it’s not weird, okay?” Sayaka said, hold up a placating hand. “But we’re dead, I’m a fish, and you teleported a sea monster about ten meters into the sky not too long ago. You’re gonna have to accept that weird is the new norm.” The side of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Besides, I’m telling you that it’s okay.”

God, that smile made Hitomi’s heart feel like it was cracking apart. It was Sayaka’s smile, the same she always used to wear whenever she wanted to cheer someone up. And that twinkle in her eyes was the same as well.

However, Hitomi had long learned that whenever Sayaka had that look, it was because she wanted to minimize a bad situation, and things were probably a lot worse than she was letting on. “But I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she said, her voice cracking. “I already did so much harm, and…”

“Hitomi,” Sayaka said. She pointed two fingers at Hitomi’s face, and then rotated her wrist around so that they were directed toward her own eyes. “Look at me. I’m saying it’s okay. Me. Call me Sayaka Miki or Oktavia von Seckendorff, it’s still me. And I say it’s okay. So go ahead.”

Hitomi felt like she was being ripped in two. Her vision misted over. “I…”

Then her throat closed up. No! No, she couldn’t let that stop her! She was finally here! She had to go through with it.

“I am so sorry,” she choked out. “I’m sorry about Kyousuke. I-I thought I was doing what was best for you and him, but…but I didn’t know what you were going through! I had no way of knowing! How could I? I mean, magical girls and witches and Incubators and…everything! It sounds so crazy! There was no way I could have…” Then she sighed. “But no! I’m not going to make excuses. I hurt you when you were already hurting. I helped kill you! I’m the reason you never came home! And that probably is what got the rest of your friends killed too! And Madoka! And Homura too! I-If I hadn’t done what I did when I did, then you probably would have never become a witch, and they would have never had become witches either, and you all would have been there helping them against Walpurgisnacht, and they wouldn’t have become witches either! You would have won, no one would have died, and you have gone home, and we’d all be alive and with our families right now if I hadn’t screwed everything up!”

Sayaka said nothing. She just sat with her hands folded in her lap, solemnly listening.

“And after…after I died, after that witch killed me, I still kept screwing things up! They told me that I couldn’t talk to you, they told me that I would just end up hurting you, but I wouldn’t listen! I just wanted so badly to see you again and tell you that I was sorry, but that just made things worse!” Tears left tracks down her cheeks to drip off her chin. “Everything I did was wrong, everything I tried only made things worse. And now everyone hates me and would probably beat me up if they could, and I deserve it! I just…I just can’t…do anything right…”

Hitomi looked away so that Sayaka wouldn’t see her crying. Even as she did so, she couldn’t help but notice the bitter irony. She had never had a problem with crying in front of Sayaka, but here she was refusing to do so now. Maybe it was true. Maybe she didn’t think of Sayaka as being the same person anymore.

Then Sayaka spoke. “Hitomi. Look at me, okay? Come on. Look at me.”

Hitomi wiped her eyes as dry as she could with her sleeve and reluctantly obeyed. Sayaka was looking up at her with as serious as an expression as Hitomi had ever seen her wear.

“You’re right,” Sayaka said. “About the Kyousuke thing, I mean. There was no way you could have known. Hell, if I hadn’t sold my soul so I could regularly risk my life battling the forces of…darkness, I guess, then yeah, giving me that push probably would have been the right thing to do. It was…a little harsh, maybe, but totally fair. Even I didn’t have the guts to make a move, that would have been my fault, and we would probably have made up eventually, which I think is what you were imagining, huh?”

Her throat too tight to speak, Hitomi just nodded.

“But I wasn’t. I was caught in…you know, I don’t know how to sum up that living nightmare in only a few words, but whatever it was, I was caught up in it, and you had no way of knowing.”

“But-” Hitomi tried to say, only to get choked off again.

“Besides, I was probably a ticking time bomb at that point anyway,” Sayaka sighed. “I mean, most Puella Magi don’t last much longer than a year anyway. The rule is you either become a witch, or you die. Horribly. I was living on borrowed time. That’s how it works. Once you get snared in that stupid system, you’re fucked.”

Hitomi let out a small, shaking laugh at the sudden profanity. Sayaka had always been a little coarse, but hearing her speak so profanely was both shocking and kind of funny.

Sayaka smiled a little at that. “Yeah, exactly. Maybe not then, maybe not when Walpurgisnacht attacked, but sooner or later, I wouldn’t have come home anyway.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “But that’s not what you need to hear, so let me say this plain: I forgive you. Sayaka forgives you. The original one. That’s another thing I did get from my dream. She still loves you, Hitomi, and that…in a weird sort of way that I’m still puzzling out, that means I do too.”

Hitomi tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. “B-But I thought you w-were the same pers-s-son.”

“We are, but it’s weird, so don’t think too hard about it. As for the rest…” Sayaka made a face, and then she shrugged. “All right, not going to lie, you did kick of something of a downward spiral. But for God’s sake, you’d been dead, what, less than a week? Of course you wouldn’t be acting rationally! No one expects you to!” Then she frowned. “Well, I mean, no one can reasonably expect you to, but you know what I mean! Everyone in your shoes would have acted out! The only difference between you and everyone else is that, well, we’re here really complicating things, and you unfortunately can teleport.” She shrugged. “But hey, a lot of what happened was on us too. We got curious, and we dug a little too deep. That’s on us.” She frowned again. “And…as much as I hate to say it, it’s kind of on Gretchen too. I mean, she was the one that agreed to a sit-down with you despite knowing better, and she apparently was the first to dive after you did your little swan dive thing, which was the what started that whole mess, and no one could have predicted a superstorm and a sea monster happening at the exact same time, and…bleh.” She stuck her tongue out. “I’m babbling. Point is, there’s a lot of blame to go around, you obviously weren’t in any state to be thinking clearly, and I don’t hold anything against you. So we’re good, is what I’m saying.”

Hitomi felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her knees buckled, and she had to grab onto the second railing to steady herself. It was more than she could have ever hoped for, far more than she deserved.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank y-y-y…”

“All right, all right, bring it in,” Sayaka said, beckoning toward her. Hitomi gratefully complied, leaning in to let Sayaka bundle her up into her arms. She could hardly believe it. She had done it, had finally found the one she had been seeking, and unloaded the great burden that had been dragging her heart down. Now Sayaka was actually there, actually holding her in her arms, and she just felt so strong, and yet so soft and warm. Even her scaly tail felt nice.

“I missed you,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “I missed you so…so…damn much, you have no idea…

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay, all right?” Sayaka said, stroking Hitomi’s hair. “I mean, with me anyway. I’d still put some distance between you and Homulilly, Charlotte, and maybe Candeloro. They’re kinda pissed off, so play it safe, and…why are you laughing?”

“S-Sorry,” Hitomi said through giggles. “It’s just that you sound so grown up! I mean, you didn’t even used to swear, and now listen to you!”

“Hey!” Sayaka said, sounding indignant. “I am grown up, so I’m allowed, thank you very fucking much!”

“Oh, goodness gracious,” Hitomi said, covering her face with both hands. “You sound like a-” Then she blinked. “Wait. How…grown up are you, exactly?”

“What, you mean how old am I?”

Though she was reluctant to do so, Hitomi drew away from Sayaka and sat back on her haunches. “Yes,” she said. “You’ve been here longer than Gretchen, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I had already graduated and had my own life when she and Homulilly showed up.” Sayaka’s brow furrowed. “Okay, kind of a tricky question, but how old was I when I bit it?”

“Thirteen,” Hitomi said softly. “And seven months.”

“Right. Okay, let me do the math here…” Then Sayaka sighed. “Hitomi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m like almost thirty.”

Hitomi’s face went pale. “Thirty,” she repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper. “You’re thirty.”

“Give or take. Granted, age doesn’t mean as much anymore, seeing how we don’t, you know, actually age, and I’ve met people in their three hundreds, but yeah. This old lady is a thirty-ish year old mermaid.”

Hitomi slowly shook her head. “Then you’ve had…well, not a full life, but a life. You have a job and a house and a…long-term relationship, and-”

“A girlfriend,” Sayaka corrected. “Come on, you can say it. I am a super lesbian now. And I am loving it.”

“Yeah, Gretchen said that you were kind of a pervert now,” Hitomi sighed.

“Oh, so she exposed me as a dirty old woman, huh?” Sayaka cackled. “Well, got me there. But I’m also a faithful one, so don’t you go getting any ideas.”

There was a pause, and then Hitomi said, “Please don’t take offense, but even if…I swung that way, you’re a little too old for me.”

Sayaka cackled again. “Ha! Okay, fair. Does this mean I get to start calling you young lady and lecturing you about showing respect for your elders and stuff?”

“Please don’t. That would just make this weirder.” Hitomi looked back out to sea again. Strange. It still looked inviting, but not in the same way. “But your life is good, right? I mean, all the time you’ve been gone, you’ve been happy, haven’t you?”

Sayaka sighed happily. “It’s been real good. I make good money doing the things I love; I live in a great house in a great town with the people I love; I got a hot, sexy girlfriend that I’m crazy about; and people like my music. Who could ask for anything more?”

“It does sound wonderful,” Hitomi said. “I mean, except, uh…” Realizing how that particular part ought to remain unspoken, she tried to rein it back only for her mind to go blank in finding a suitable substitute.

Sayaka grinned. “Except for that part about having a girlfriend, huh?”

“Sorry,” Hitomi said with a wince.

“Eh, don’t stress. It takes some getting used to, I know.” Then Sayaka looked down at her hands. “So, you want to address the noran in the bathtub, or should I?”

“The what?”

“Er, elephant in the room, I mean. I mean, it’s just that this whole ball of nasty got kick-started because of a shared crush.”

Hitomi’s stomach clenched up. “You mean Kyousuke.”

“That’s the guy.” Sayaka shook her head. “Okay, so, it is probably blindingly obvious that I’ve moved on from him in every imaginable way, but I really got to ask: was he really worth it?”

“Worth it? You mean, worth me stabbing you in the back for?”

“Oh, hell no! I mean was he worth me selling my soul for?”

“Well, you probably thought so at the time,” Hitomi said. “But he was…” She smiled dreamily. “He was always so gentle, so soft-spoken and intelligent. He had the prettiest eyes, and soft, silky hair woven from silver. And whenever he played, I felt that was building a staircase to Heaven with his music, one that was just for me.”

“Wow,” Sayaka said. “No wonder we fought over him.”

Hitomi’s smile faltered. “He must be hurting so much right now. He was so depressed after you disappeared. He told me that he had never gotten around to thanking you for visiting him all the time, that you had been the only one to stop by at least once a week. He felt like maybe if he had been more thankful, that you wouldn’t…well, you know.”

“Oh. Um, did he…know?”

“What, about your wish? That you were the reason that he got healed in the first place? No! Of course not, how could he?”

“No,” Sayaka said, shaking her head. “I mean that I had feelings for him.”

Hitomi looked down at her feet. “Yes,” she said. “I told him, the last time we spoke. He just got real quiet and hung up the phone.”

“And then?”

Hitomi sniffed. “And then that’s when Kyubey came. I didn’t…really talk to him that much after that.”

“Oh. Huh. That…uh, that sucks.”

Hitomi nodded.

Then Sayaka frowned and shrugged. “Well, if I sold my soul for the guy, it stands to reason I should at least know something about him.”

Hitomi blinked. “You…want me to tell you all about Kyousuke?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay,” Hitomi said with a nod. “But on one condition.”

Sayaka tilted her head.

“I want you to tell me all about Ophelia.”

Sayaka grinned. “I have absolutely no problem with th-”

“Except for the dirty stuff!” Hitomi added hastily. “I don’t need to know the details about that!”

“Aw, but that takes the fun out of it!” Sayaka (no, Oktavia. She had a new name, and Hitomi was going to start getting used to it) said with a laugh. “Okay then. Deal.”

…

Everyone looked up as Oktavia reentered the room. Whatever it was that had happened, it must have gone well, as she was smiling fainting, humming a slow tune to herself. Ophelia followed close behind.

Gretchen sat up a little straighter as they came in. “Did everything go okay?”

Ophelia grinned. “Seeing how it ended with the two of them throwing off their clothes and making sweet, sweet love on the poop deck, I’d say it-” Oktavia leaned over her armrest to give her a swift smack. “-ow!”

Shaking her head, Oktavia looked back to Gretchen and flashed her an OK symbol.

Gretchen sighed with relief and relaxed. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Homulilly, however, was not quite so enthused. “Okay, but once we get back, we are handing her back to the FIB and she is staying put this time, right?”

“Right. And she was very apologetic for everything that’s happened. We don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

Homulilly cast a dour eye over to where Candeloro lay in her bunk, fast asleep. “That’s nice,” she said. “But damage done.”

Oktavia’s smile dropped. “Any word from Charlotte?”

“No,” Gretchen sighed. “I tried to get her to come out earlier. She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“What do we do then?” Homulilly asked. “What if she still won’t talk to us before it’s time to go home?”

Ophelia’s eyes got a kind of scary gleam at that. “If Charlotte still wants to be part of this family, then she needs to start putting in the effort to do so.”

That proclamation stunned everyone. It was one thing to be angry with one of their number for being stubborn and callous, it was something else entirely to raise the possibility of having that person evicted from their circle.

“Babe, you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?” Oktavia said in a small voice.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Ophelia said as she sat down on her bunk. “I want Charlotte back as much as anyone else. But she’s locking us out. We’ve all done all we can to get through to her, and she’s still locking us out. Enough is enough. Next move is up to her.”

No one had any response to that. Even Homulilly was struck speechless. It wasn’t that she disagreed with Ophelia, but of all the possible outcomes of their current situation, she had never even dreamed that one of them would be one of her friends willingly leaving. And over something like this! She completely understood Charlotte being upset and disturbed by Candeloro’s change, but this was beyond the pale. Even Hitomi had more reason for behaving the way she had.

It was as sobering a thought as one could imagine, one that made them all fall silent. Homulilly and Gretchen squeezed each other’s hands but said nothing.

“So hey,” Oktavia said suddenly after a few minutes of nothing. “To change the subject, it occurs to me that you guys got to do what I had been trying to do all week: tangle with the karnuk.”

“Tavi,” Homulilly sighed. “Trust me, the next sea monster that shows up is all yours.”

“Yeah, but even so…” Oktavia grinned. “You guys wanna see it?”

…

The karnuk was still being held in the ship’s cargo hold. It was floating in a large cube of water, one that was suspended in the middle of the room. Though it had been fully treated for the injuries Candeloro and Gretchen had inflicted upon it, there was still a fair number of people gathered on the catwalks that surrounded its tank, some of waving weird little instruments across the tank’s sides while others wrote in notepads and still others merely gawked at it like visitors to an aquarium.

For the first time, the karnuk was fully visible. They had done something to it that turned it a dark purple, and now Homulilly could fully see the monster that had come so close to eating them all. It reminded her of a strange cross between a manatee, a squid, and a whale shark. It had a fat, bulbous body with two long fleshy appendages dangling from the back like a cricket’s hairs and a long fin that surrounded the whole of its body like a skirt; a head that was flat, blunt, and broad; and four tentacles that hung around its stubby neck. Its mouth was hanging slack, and even with as far back as they were standing its jagged teeth were plainly visible.

It was pretty big. Not mind-bogglingly huge, but it could have swallowed any one of them with no problem.

“We fought that?” Gretchen breathed as they stared.

“You sure did! Roughed it up pretty bad too,” Oktavia said. She sounded almost proud of them. “There was some gnarly surgery going on its first night here, from what I’ve heard. It might have bled out if they hadn’t managed to patch it up.”

“You ask me, you should’ve just let it,” Ophelia said. “That thing would make sushi for days.”

A researcher had been passing by close enough to hear, and Ophelia’s remark made her let out an indignant squeak and nearly dropped the thick binder of papers for days.

“What?” Ophelia said with an unapologetic scowl. “That thing tried to make sushi out of me. I’m entitled to hold a grudge.”

The researcher returned the scowl and stomped off, muttering something about land people and their lack of appreciation for the beauty of nature.

“You don’t even like sushi,” Oktavia said once she had gone.

“For this, I would eat a whole plate myself and savor every bite. Out of spite.”

“What’s going to happen to it?” Gretchen asked.

“That is still being debated,” said Denna Heyman as she approached the group. Homulilly had only met the frizzy-haired girl a couple of times before, but as she understood it Denna was the one in charge. She stood next to them, looking up at her prize. “We were just going to let it finish healing up and have it taken back to where it came from and set it loose.”

“Were?” Ophelia said, raising an eyebrow.

“Word got out, and we’ve already been contacted by two zoos and one exotic animal preserve.” Denna shrugged. “Problem is, this guy’s been out of his natural habitat for some time, so odds are, if we send him back where he came from, he’ll probably get gobbled up himself pretty quickly.”

“Not seeing how that’s any of our problem,” Ophelia said. Denna and Oktavia both shot her disapproving looks.

“Anyway,” Denna said, and a bit huffingly at that, “now that the storm’s cleared up, they’ll be sending people to pick you up and bring you back home very soon. Odds are, you’ll be sleeping in your own beds tonight.”

“What about Hitomi?” Gretchen asked.

“The runaway? The FIB’s sending their own transport for her.” Denna raised an eyebrow. “Assuming, of course, that she’s going to board it without us needing to drop her first?”

“She will,” Oktavia said. “And she’s going to stay put this time.”

Homulilly cleared her throat. “Well, that’s good to hear, but you haven’t brought up the big issue yet. What of Candeloro?”

“I assume she will be going with you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Homulilly said. “Do they…know?”

Denna sighed. “No, I didn’t tell them, per your request. But while I completely understand your desire for privacy, you all do realize that word is going to get out sooner or later, right?”

Everyone all looked uneasily at one another. Once everyone learned that the ninth confirmed witch-reversal had taken place, and was living in Freehaven, then things were going to change, and not for the better.

Homulilly had long gotten used to her friends’ small amount of fame. She enjoyed joining the crowd in cheering for Ophelia during dancing competitions and. She had on more than one occasion gone to one of Oktavia’s rare performances and felt a surge of pride whenever the audience was wowed by the debut of some new piece that she had already heard weeks ago during her visits to the studio. She had felt justifiably smug when Mitty had fallen head-over-heels over Charlotte’s books, books that Homulilly had given suggestions for and were apparently based in part on Gretchen and herself. She had watched people line up at the Honey Hive to try whatever award-winning treat Candeloro was offering, a treat that she had made specially for everyone at her house.

But this…this was going far beyond than simply people she cared about getting recognition for their accomplishments. This was going to turn their family into a media event, with everyone wanting to come see what Candeloro had become. Hell, people from all over the afterlife were going to be interested, from researchers to theologians to religious leaders to politicians to witches struggling with identity issues to those like Hitomi who knew witches that they wished to have returned to their former selves to those who were simply curious. And there were going to be plenty from every category.

She thought back to their trip to the museum a couple years ago, about meeting Astrid and learning her story. She thought of how eager Mitty had been to meet her, about how blown away many of the other girls had been with Astrid’s very existence. Astrid had been around for several centuries and she was still considered a curiosity by the general populace. Was that to be their life now, always having to dodge random strangers and gawkers and having to field the same questions over and over and over? Homulilly had spent the first few years of her existence just getting over feeling like a freak, and now she was going to be living with an actual freak, someone who ironically had become a freak by ceasing to be one, as weird as the thought sounded.

Ophelia then stepped in front of everyone, her face hard and resolute. “What ends ups being our new normal, we’ll adjust,” she said. “Whatever needs to change, we’ll make the change. Because that’s what families do! They stick together, support each other, and don’t off everyone in a weird murder/suicide!”

“What?” Gretchen said.

“Never mind. Issues. Forget it.”

Denna’s eyes flitted from one face to the next in confusion. “Um, okay,” she said. “I…don’t know what that last part had to do with anything, but whatever it is you decide to do, all I can say is good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

Oktavia breathed out. “Thanks, Denna. You’re a real ray of sunshine sometimes, you know that?”

“I’m a lady of science, I call it as it is,” Denna said with a shrug. “I’ll let you know when they’re on their way.”

After she had walked off, the group let out a collective sigh and made their way back to the room that had been provided for them. As they walked, Homulilly took the time to sidle up to Ophelia.

“What about Charlotte?” she said in a low voice. “What are we going to do about her?”

Ophelia’s mouth was a knife-edge slash across her face. “What we need to,” she said, giving Homulilly only the briefest of glances.

Oktavia made a face. “Babe, not trying to start something here, but I have to agree with Lilly. We really need something a little more concrete.”

For a long while, Ophelia said nothing, she just marched forward, her face point straight ahead. Then she said, “Change happens. It’s inevitable. When it does, you have to…adjust. We’ve been telling Hitomi Shizuki that all week, and look where her not listening got us. Now it’s Charlotte’s turn to learn that same lesson.”

Homulilly and Gretchen quickly exchanged glances. Gretchen swallowed and Homulilly winced. Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

…

Given Oktavia’s fear of flying, they were going to be taken back to Freehaven by boat. To be quite frank, Homulilly would have preferred to go by sky like Hitomi supposedly was; she had quite enough of the ocean for one lifetime, thank you very much. But she could deal. Soon they would be home again.

Candeloro hadn’t said a thing the whole to the dock. Homulilly wanted to talk to her, to ask her how she was feeling and if there was anything she could do, but she didn’t had the first idea of how to approach the subject. What if she said the wrong thing and made things worse? What if she came off as too pushy? What if Candeloro simply didn’t want to speak, and just by asking Homulilly would end up intruding?

This was the sort of thing that Gretchen would handle. She was much more empathetic than Homulilly was, and had a knack for reaching out to people who were hurting. But even she seemed to be at a loss for words.

As they walked onto the dock, Homulilly saw something that made her hesitate.

There was an FIB hovership floating just over the water, with a ramp leading from its side down to the dock. Hitomi was there, being lead into it by a group of FIB caretakers.

“Well, that closes that chapter at least,” Ophelia sighed.

“Is she going to be okay?” Gretchen asked.

Homulilly’s right eye twitched.

“Of course she is. So long as she doesn’t get all weird and start teleporting all over the place again. Seriously, they really need to find some kind of counter-measures for that kind of thing. I know freeform teleportation is a rare ability, but they should have something in place. You know, just in case.”

That sounded like a fine idea to Homulilly. In fact, if they decided to just lock her in a dark room in the underground ward forever, she would have no objections.

Then Gretchen looked over to Oktavia, who caught the glance and nodded.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Gretchen said. Then she hurried over to the dock, with Oktavia stomping off after her in her chair.

“Huh?” Homulilly said. “Hey!” She reached after them. “Wait!”

Then Ophelia placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from pursuing. “Homulilly, just let it go,” she said with a weary sigh.

Homulilly stared at her. “But-”

“I know you hate the girl, but they don’t. So just let them.”

“Really?” Homulilly said, her face twisting up in disbelief. “After…everything? Everything she’s done to us, all the ways she messed things up?”

Homulilly meaningfully tilted her head over to Candeloro, who was standing silently in the back. The blonde didn’t seem to be listening to their conversation, noticing Hitomi or the fact that two of her friends were rushing towards the little screwball, or really much of anything at all. She was standing stock-still, staring out over the horizon, the only things moving being her fingers as they jerkily tangled and untangled themselves around each other.

Ophelia sighed. “Look, it’s like we keep saying: damage done. Besides, if you really think about it, Hitomi wasn’t directly responsible for a lot of what happened. Some of it was our fault too, and the rest was just pure dumb bad luck.”

“She’s responsible for enough,” Homulilly muttered darkly.

Ophelia shook her head. “Homulilly, don’t. It’s not worth it, okay? No one says you gotta be her friend or even like her, but you can’t stop Gretchen making friends with her.”

Maybe not, but she sure wished that she could. Calling a truce with Mitty for Gretchen’s sake had been tough enough. This was on a whole other level. “Fine,” she said. “But she’s not coming to the house.”

“Fair enough. In fact, they’d be wise to keep her from any steep drop for the foreseeable future.”

“They’d be wise to keep her in a tiny room until she grew something resembling a brain,” Homulilly groused as she folded her arms over he chest. “But what do I know?”

…

“Hitomi! Wait!”

The voice cut through the air like an arrow. Hitomi, who had just been about to step onto the ramp to board the spaceship (a spaceship! They had sent a spaceship to pick her up!), immediately froze in place.

Madoka (no, her name was Gretchen now. She was going to have to get used to that) was bounding toward her. It was kind of disconcerting, actually. Her lower half was a nightmare of skittering golden wires that held her up nearly three meters high, but the way her upper half was bouncing up and down while she waved enthusiastically was all Madoka.

The FIB workers that had been sent to retrieve her quickly placed themselves between Hitomi and Gretchen. “Wait, hold on!” one of them said. “You can’t-”

“It’s okay!” Gretchen said as she slowed to a stop. “She can’t mess with our heads anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” one of the caretakers said. “We were specifically told to keep her away from you!”

“Then you weren’t told everything,” Oktavia said as her chair stomped its way toward the group. “I’ve already had a long talk with her earlier. We just want to say goodbye.”

“But-”

“Look, if she could still mess us up, she would have by now. Please just let us have this.” Gretchen flicked her hands toward them. “Go on now. Shoo!”

The FIB people reluctantly stepped aside. Hitomi glanced at them in uncertainty, and then moved away from the spaceship toward Gretchen and Oktavia.

“You came to see me,” she said.

“Well, we couldn’t just let you go without saying goodbye!” Gretchen said.

Hitomi was flabbergasted. “Really? Even after…everything?”

“Well, hey, you did kind of die to find us,” Oktavia said as she brought her chair to a stop beside Gretchen. “Besides, we were kind of like the three amigos, apparently! Can’t let our third member head out without seeing her off.”

Hitomi’s eyes misted over. “Th-Thank you,” she said. “I don’t…I don’t deserve you two. At all. And…I am so-”

Oktavia held up a palm, stopping her in her track. “I think you’ve done enough crying and apologizing,” she said. “Just concentrate on getting better, okay?”

“And we can come and visit you!” Gretchen chimed in. “You know, after you’ve settled in and gotten used to the place.”

“It’s really not bad,” Oktavia said. “First few weeks are hard on everyone, but once you get past that, I swear it gets better.”

Then Gretchen frowned. “Um, unless they’re still going to keep you in the underground ward. I don’t think that part has visitors.”

Hitomi sighed. “I already talked to them a little over the…phone, or whatever that glowy thing was. They told me that we can work something out. I guess they figured that I already did as much damage as I could.”

“Plus, keeping you underground won’t help much when you got a magical teleporting umbrella,” Oktavia snickered.

“Which she will not be using,” said one of the FIB workers, her arms folded across her chest as she glowered sternly at Hitomi.

Hitomi winced. “Yes, they did make me promise not to do that anymore. Which is fine. I don’t need it.” Her gaze then went to the small group hanging far behind her friends. “Er, what about your girlfriends though? Because they don’t…they don’t really like me at all.”

“Ah, don’t worry about Ophelia,” Oktavia said with a dismissive wave. “She’s a little tough sometimes, but she’s pretty reasonable. She’s fine.”

“Okay,” Hitomi said. “But I’m pretty sure Homulilly wants to strangle me.”

“Uh…yeah…” Oktavia and Gretchen exchanged looks. Gretchen winced and Oktavia shrugged. “Maybe a little…look, just keep your distance, and we’ll make sure she doesn’t come looking for you.”

“Tavi, that really didn’t come out reassuring at all,” Gretchen said.

“Look, you’re the one with the girlfriend that has a super scary side, okay? I’m doing the best I can!”

Gretchen sighed. “Don’t worry. Homulilly can hold a grudge, but she’ll come around too. She just needs some time to cool down. She’s not going to randomly show up in your room again to threaten you, I promise.”

“Okay,” Hitomi said. “But I was more worried about making things hard for you. I don’t want to drive a wedge in between you two or anything.”

“You won’t,” Gretchen said. “Besides, the FIB will probably want us to keep our distance for a while until you’re, um, until you’re…” She shot a pleading look at Oktavia.

“Until you’re settled in and reliably stable,” Oktavia said with a sigh. “Jesus, stop dancing around it.”

Hitomi swallowed. “Am I really that bad?”

At this, Oktavia raised an eyebrow. “Hitomi, you died twice in one week. You had your entire world turned upside-down just about every other day, had the wits scared out of you, and had a lot of really scary people yell at you a lot. Also, you’re coming really close to chewing your entire finger off.”

Realizing that she was right, Hitomi quickly popped her finger out of her mouth. She hadn’t even noticed that she had been gnawing on it again. “S-Sorry, it’s…it just makes me feel better for some reason.” She sighed. “I guess you have a point. B-But after, you will come visit, right?”

“Promise,” Gretchen said. “We just want you to get better.”

Then she spread her arms, clearly beckoning for a hug.

Despite desperately need one, Hitomi hesitated. Not out of fear or revulsion, but out of wondering if she really deserved it.

“You might as well give it to her,” Oktavia said. “She’ll just keep standing there until you give her what she wants.”

Hitomi had to laugh at that. Then she slowly reached out with shaking hands to wrap her arms around Gretchen’s body.

Gretchen immediately half-pounced, seizing her up with both arms to squeeze her tight.

And…oh.

She was so strong, and yet so gentle. So powerful and yet so soft. It was more than one of the happy cuddles Madoka would foist upon her whenever she was feeling happy or affectionate, which was often. It was a grown-up hug, and yet it also reminded Hitomi of being hugged by both her mother and her father, as nurturing as it was protecting, as comforting as it was caring.

And Hitomi, who had no idea just how starved she had been for that kind of physical affection, could do nothing but melt in her arms.

Confessing to Oktavia earlier had unburdened her soul of some of the weight. This took off most of the rest. It was the purest thing Hitomi had ever experienced, and if she could stop time like Homura Akemi and bring this moment to a stop so that she could experience it forever, she would.

Suddenly Gretchen started to loosen one arm, and Hitomi instinctively clung tighter. Not now! Just a little longer. That’s all she wanted, to stay there a little longer.

But fortunately Gretchen wasn’t drawing away. Instead, she was reaching down to grab Oktavia by the arm and lift her into the embrace. When she realized this, Hitomi had no problem in releasing her right arm to bring Oktavia in as well.

Laughing and crying, the three reunited friends held each other close. For Hitomi, it was the first moment of real, unspoiled joy she had had since…well, since she had confessed to Kyousuke, actually. She had done it. Sure, her friends looked different, went by different names, had their pasts missing, and were quite a bit older now, but it was still them! She had found them!

And for the first time since her death, Hitomi felt that maybe things would be all right after all.

…

Ophelia placed a hand on Homulilly’s shoulder. “Steady, girl.”

“I am steady,” Homulilly said.

“I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.”

“I’m steady,” Homulilly insisted, though the fact that she had been chewing on the insides of her cheeks for the last minute or so was a strike against that claim. “I’m dealing.”

And she was. She understood how much this meant to Gretchen, and she wasn’t about to let personal grudges mess it up for her. And it was true, maybe Hitomi was someone to be pitied rather than hated. And okay, it really wasn’t all of her fault.

But damn it, Homulilly just plain didn’t like her. Like, at all! Things sucked right now, and Hitomi had kicked it all off! Homulilly was allowed to resent her for a little while longer at least.

“Okay then,” Ophelia said, not sounding convinced in the slightest. Then she angled her head to one side and frowned behind her sunglasses.

“What?” Homulilly said.

“You’re, uh, not getting weirdly jealous again, are you? Because we all know where that leads.”

Homulilly rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I’m way past all that. It just sucks to want to strangle someone when the love of your life is giving them a great big bearhug!”

“Huh. You know, Hitomi has a point.”

Homulilly stared. “About…what exactly?”

“You get kind of scary when you’re really mad.”

Homulilly pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Then she frowned as well. “Wait, hold on,” she said, looking around. “We’re still missing someone. Where’s Charlotte?”

Ophelia’s head jerked back. “Charlotte?” she said as she took off her sunglasses and looked around.

At the mention of her wayward wife’s name, Candeloro finally seemed to snap out of her stupor. She looked around as well, her face stricken.

Homulilly frowned. She had hoped that Charlotte would at least be at the dock to meet them. Sure, the trip home would be awkward, but at least she would be there.

Denna was standing off at the other end of the dock, talking to one of her coworkers. Homulilly felt a chill of premonition go down her back. Whatever it was that they were discussing, it had something to do with their problem. And judging by the look of surprise and irritation on Denna’s face, it wasn’t good.

With a disgruntled sigh, Denna then broke off to walk towards their group. “Well,” she said. “I have some bad news.”

“It’s Charlotte, isn’t it?” Ophelia said.

“Afraid so.”

“She’s not coming back with us?” Candeloro said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Um, no. Actually, it turns out she’s already left.”

“What?” Ophelia and Homulilly said in stereo.

“Yeah, um,” Denna said as she anxiously scratched the back of her neck. “Come to find out that she’s actually friends with the owners of one of the deep-sea ocean platforms we got around here. Met them through some kind of book club or something. Anyway, she managed to get in contact with them and had them show up and give her a ride.”

“And you’re just telling us this now?” Ophelia demanded.

“She didn’t tell anyone about this! She just up and left! Walked right past the dockmaster without saying anything and got on their boat! I thought they had come to get all of you until they took off with just her!”

Ophelia’s eyes went as cold and hard as glaciers, a scary look for someone so associated with fire. Homulilly wasn’t scared though. She wore a very similar look.

“So,” Ophelia said. “That’s how it is then.”

Candeloro buried her face in her stiff hands and burst into tears.

…

The small craft known as the Fire Tiger cut through the ocean, speeding from the Aurora Borealis toward Freehaven. In good conditions, the trip took about an hour, and one couldn’t ask for better conditions than what they were currently experiencing. Now that the storm had gotten all of its raging out of its system, the sky was bright and clear, the ocean itself smooth as glass.

Good. Charlotte didn’t want the trip to take any longer than absolutely necessary.

She sat in the back of the boat, staring wordlessly out to sea. She was starting to understand why Ophelia hated it so much. Oh sure, it looked calm and peaceful now, but it had been only a couple days ago that it had been nothing but cruel and violent. And Oktavia could go on and on about how beautiful and wonderful its flora and fauna were all she wanted. All Charlotte knew that it also contained monsters, and one of them had tried to eat her and her friends the moment they had been dumped into the depths. And through a tragic application of the Butterfly Effect, it ended up taking away everything from her.

But of course, now it was lovely and calm, now the monster had been safely contained. It couldn’t have been caught earlier in the week, when the weather had been perfect and there had been several dedicated teams of professionals scouring the area. It wasn’t until after it had taken away everything that she cared about that it had finally been caught. And the storm, the one that hadn’t been projected to even hit until two days after it actually did? That just had to have decided to start raging when Little Miss Delusional wanted to take her swan dive.

Hitomi. The storm. The karnuk. Take any one of the above out of the equation and all of this wouldn’t have happened. But they did happen, and all at once. Now the ocean seemed to be mocking her with its tranquility, almost as if the whole thing had been deliberate, and now it was rubbing it in her face.

At the front of the boat sat the owners of her ride, a couple of local kelp harvesters named Shizuku Sango and Natsuru Senou. They were members of a book club that Charlotte had helped set up back at the library

So far they hadn’t asked many questions about why Charlotte had suddenly ended up on the Aurora Borealis to begin with, or why she needed a ride that very moment instead of simply letting the researchers take her home. Good. Charlotte didn’t feel like explaining. However, the glances that Natsuru was shooting her told her that questions were probably going to start soon.

“So,” Shizuku said suddenly, her voice raised to be heard over the sound of the motor. “The Aurora Borealis just called. Apparently they were taken off guard by your sudden exit.”

Charlotte said nothing.

“They said that your entire family is there, and that they’re quite upset over your departure. Now, isn’t that odd? I know your fish friend is often over there, but for the whole family to be over there too? And I understand that tiffs are normal when you have that many people living in one place, but I find it very odd that-”

“Shizuku?”

“Yes?”

Charlotte didn’t even look away from the sea to address her. “I appreciate you guys coming to get me on short notice. But drop it. Please.”

Natsuru turned in her seat. “Charlotte, you’re not in trouble, are you? Is there anything we can do?”

“You can take me home, and you can keep from asking me questions.”

Shizuku tsked. “Oh, that does not sound good. You know, we have our own little family that’s the same size as yours. There’s Natsuru and myself, and there is also Akane and Mikoto too. And granted, we’re all magical girls instead of witches, but I don’t imagine that would make much of a difference. So when you have four strong-willed ladies living together in a relatively small space out in the middle of the ocean, tempers can flare and arguments do break out. So we’ve had to get pretty good at resolving them. Otherwise, we would have torn each other apart long ago. So while I may not know the specifics of your situation, that doesn’t mean that we can’t help you come up with a way-”

Sighing, Charlotte finally turned toward them. “You can’t. This isn’t…this isn’t someone leaving dirty dishes in the sink or making a mess of the restroom. This isn’t someone waking up on the wrong side of the bed and taking it out on everyone else. This is…you can’t deal with it. I can’t deal with it. So please, j-just leave it.”

Shizuku and Natsuru exchanged glances. “If you say so,” Shizuku said after a beat. “I hope things work out for you then.”

A well-intentioned sentiment, but unfortunately it came far, far too late.

…

Sometimes you just got to confront yourself. Sometimes you have to look back on what you’ve done and wonder what in the hell were you thinking. Sometimes you have to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I really made Kampfer and To Love-Ru part of my canon, didn’t I?”

Yup.

Still not apologizing.

And hey, fun fact: this story was supposed to wrap up after everyone had their dreams and talked to themselves after the karnuk fight, but things…changed. Funny how that works out.

Until next time, everyone.

#walpurgis nights

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