#your main value is not how young you look or how closely you mirror what is on the media | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlymexsarah · 3 years

Note

Can we please get more Prince Friedrich? Maybe meeting his family

Prince Friedrich | The sweet taste of sin

I had few informations so I let my fantasy take the control. I hope you like it, otherwise write me and I’ll do something else for you😘

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Kinda the Sequel of “Prince Friedrich | Jealousy” Prince Louis Charles and Duchess Frederica of Prussia come at the end of the season to see their son and meet y/n Bridgerton, the lady who had taken the heart of the Prince, but there is more…

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!reader

A/N: so I made some researches about our lovely prince Friedrich and I found out that he never become a king because he was the cousin of the actual King, and now everything makes sense to me. Also, I’ve learned that the Prince’s and Duchess’ marriage wasn’t a happy one, because they didn’t love each other :( Prince Luois Charles should be dead, he died three years after Friedrich birth, but it would be too much complicated so we are going to pretend that we sucks in history and none of us knew it, alright? ;D

warnings: my english :)

PREQUEL 1 - PREQUEL 2

Here we are, the end of another scandalous London season.

Surely, it has not been boring for everyone. We had found out the diamond of the season, and found out that sometime a pearl can take the most requested heart.

The Duke and Duchess of Hastings are organizing evrything for the last ball of the season, how many scandals it will bring to us?

There are rumors about a separation between the two; was their love just a flame that with the first rain had been turned off?

Well, what we know is that the Duchess’ sister, Miss Y/n, is still enjoying her newborn love with her Charming Prince, and I am more then happy for them.

It seems that Duchess Frederica and Prince Louis Charles of Prussia are coming to visit our lovely Queen Charlotte and their son, Prince Friedrich, is this the only reason? Lady Y/n Bridgerton had been seen quite nervous in these days, fear to meet your future father and mother in law, dear?

What I know far now is that the Prince hasn’t proposed yet, and this could bring doubts in the mind of a young Lady in love. Instead of walking between the streets of the city, the Prince had invited her to see the Palace’s garden more often, but don’t be surprise if you find yourself in front of them; it must be remember that Lady Bridgerton is still one of us, she can’t stay away from her normality too much.

I ask myself what the Royal Family will think about that...will they accept her or they will take the Prince away to return in Prussia and found themself a wife for him?

When it will happen, I’ll be the first to find out. But no need to worry our future Princess, you will charm the Duchess and the Prince as you had charmed Prince Friedrich.

“‘Normality’? Now being normal it’s bad’“ you said offended looking the paper in your hands.

“I am sure she meant nothing bad, my dear.” said your mother sweetly sit in front of you. You were drinking tea at the park all together, your family and Friedrich. He insisted to spend time with them to know all your brothers and sisters, and you couldn’t be more than happy. There were times when Hyacinth and Gregory weren’t polite and quiet as all of you, but he didn’t mind instead he started to play with them or just listen what they had to say.

“There is nothing to worry about, Y/n. In this months I learned to ignore Lady Whistledown’s words if they are not nice things toward someone.” Friedrich said resting his hand on yours that was on the table. You smiled to thank him turning to focuse on the paper resting now on the table in front of you.

“Lady Whistledown had written only good things about you two, sister. I think she likes you, together.” Colin said standing behind your mother chair looking the children in the park.

“Yes, I know...” your voice was a whisper and yu weren’t sure if he had heard you, but you couldn’t move away your eyes from Lady Whistledown’s words. Will Friedrich’s parents accept me? I am not a princess, how can they like me?

Since you knew about their arrival the doubts started to hunt you day and night. The dram of thr last night kept repeting in your mind; you had arrived at the Palace to meet Friedrich, but in the Great Hall you had seen him and Cressida getting married telling the guards to take you away. You knew she would be a better princess then you; she had the behave and the submission that you had never had. You couldn’t deny thet they would be a perfect couple together, but yet he had chosen you and the fear that he might see the mistake he had done when you’ll meet his parents scared you.

The Prince saw a shadow crossing your face while everyone started talking again. You were in your own world with the eyes focused on nowhere and an empty smile on your face.

“I would like to take Miss Y/n for a walk, if you agree Miss Bridgerton.” said Friedrich kindly. Hearing your name woke you up from your trance looking him first and then your mother.

“Of course you can, Prince Friedrich. Y/n is not the one who likes stay sit for a long time.” she said happy. He had always made sure to have her approvation for everything you did together; he valued her thoughts as much as Anthony’s.

“You are right, mother. I find the walks very healthy, indeed.” you took Friedrichìs hand that was kindly offered by him to help you to stand up. Intertwining your right arm with his, you started to walk hearing the footsteps of his guards behind you. They never left him evem when you had lunch at your house, but you didn’t mind, it was for his own safety and you didn’t want anything to happen to him.

After a while, when your family was out of hearing, he took an orange lily at his right and raised it in front of your face. “A flower for your thoughs.”

You took the beautiful flower in your hand with the first true smile of the day. “Thank you, my Prince. I am sorry if I’ve been revelead to not be a good company today; just...”

“Thoughs.” he finished your sentence understanding. It had already happened sometime that the two of you finished each other’s phrases; it was lovely for the other people and funny for you. “They might be about what Lady Whistledown wrote? When you call me ‘my Prince’ means that something if wrong.”

You brought the flower at your nose to smell its perfume. “Well, I like how it sounds, my Prince.” you smiled amused seeing him lowering his head and laughing. “But it’s not just that. Lady Whistledown had been in our life since months now, I’m used at her words...” you took a breath looking around. “Your father and mother are coming... They might expect that the one who took the Prince’s interest is at least a princess as well, but they are going to see that I am just...me.”

“I stop you here, dear.” he stopped in the middle of the little bridge of the park bringing you in front of him. “They don’t expect nothing if not what my letters said about you, and you know who they are going to see?” he took the flower from your hands breaking the stem and slowly putting the lily in your hair over your ear. His hands made you feel butterfly in your stomach; you didn’t know what your body desired, but you were sure that the little few times he had touched you weren’t enough. “They’ll see that the woman who took my heart is the most clever, beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. Because this, my dear Y/n...” he brought your hands to his mouth kissing them sweetly making you blush with a shy smile on your face. “is who you are.”

“I do not know what I did to deserve your heart, Friedrich, but you took mine long time ago, and I know there are no safest hands that could hold it.” you both stepped closer at the same time finding yourself with only few inches between your bodies. Your chest were almost touching, his breath a little above your lips and your hands still in his big ones. His big blue eyes didn’t leave yours, looking for few seconds your sweet smile.

“I promise you that I will take care of it as you are taking care of mine.” after a while still looking in each other’s eyes, you started to walk again laughing and joking and at the end of the day you felt more relaxed.

You slept all night, and when in the morning Mary, your waitress, came to wake you up you had almost forgotten Lady Whistledown’s words and you were ready to see Friedrich and apologies for the behave you had the day before. You were worry for nothing, even when Mary dressed you and styled your hair who you saw in the mirror was a Lady who looked like a swan in her dress.

When you entered in the living room all the eyes were on you; your brothers stood up quickly while your mother hid something behind the pillow of the couch. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes sister.” “Nothing wrong.” “You look nice in that dress.” they said almost at the same time nervously.

“You are odd.” you said shaking your head and walking toward your mother. “What is happening?”

“I have to tell you something, my dear. Sit down, here.” you sit on the couch beside your mother still confused by the reaction of everyone. “You see, we had found out a thing...you don’t have to-”

“The Duchess and the Prince are here in London!” yelled Hyacinth excited. Your breath froze, the air seemed to be stone because you coudln’t move and all your eyes could focus on was your mother in front of you who now was yelling at your little sister.

“Mama, tell me they are not the Duchess and the Prince of Prussia.” she looked at you sorry trying to find the right words to calm you. “Brothers! Tell me they are not.”

Benedict and Colin ran away from the room closing the door behind them and blocking Anthony with you. He turned around with a nervous smile on his face studying your body language. Impossible. You have grown up hiding your true feelings, with a smile on your face and ready to nod whenever you didn't share the same ideas of your interlocutor because you were a woman, and you had to appear polite not smart. But in a family like yours you couldn’t care less, indeed Anthony could see the bright light of the fear in your eyes.

“Yes, dear sister, the Duchess and Prince of Prussia are arrived tonight. Lady Whistledown talked about it in her morning paper.” he said walking toward the couch that was in front of the one you and your mother were sitting on.

“S-so they’re here.” you looked your mother terrified. “Friedrich said that they would have spent the first few days at the palace or around the city, so I don’t need to worry for now.”

The door opened and one of your manservant enterd in hurry. “Lord Bridgerton, Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton...” he bowed to all of you. “Prince Louis Charles and Duchess Frederica of Prussia have requested your presence tonight to dine with them at the Palace.” your eyes got wider froze on your seat unable to say something. “And...Duchess Frederica had requested your presence personally, Miss Bridgerton. She wish to know you better and...talk.”

His and your mother’s eyes were fixed on you while Anthony looked in your direction with the corner of his eyes trying to not laugh at your terrified face. “Tell them we will be there.”

The manservant bowed and walked away closing the door behind him. That day all the housemaids, waitress and waiters had the orders to help Anthony, Lady Violet and you in any ways possible to male sure that you would be ready for the dinner with the Royal family. No one questioned your absence around the house, they were all to busy to notice it.

You were in your room, sit on your bed looking the wall opposite of you with Mary beside the mirror waiting for your orders. Nothing was worse than think that all your time with Friedrich, all your laughs and your conversations could be swept away just with a worng word, awkward movement or with the wrog dress.

The fear of losing Friedrich was more painful than you expected. It wasn’t because he was a Prince, no you couldn’t care less about his title when there were just the two of you together. You liked his company, his humor and you had a thing for his voice; sometime happened that he told you thing in german making you loose your mind. You felt save around him, and it wasn’t because the guards always with him, but you knew that he would never let something happen to you; he would protect you with his own body if neccessary. And then, there was the physical part; you liked his eyes, his curly blonde hair, you liked his being taller and muscular than you, you liked when his big hands took yours or when he would put his hand on your wait during a dance. He made you feel strange feelings in your body, feelings you could not tell anyone about.

You..you loved him? What was love? Love was the one that shared your father and mother; love was the feeling that kept together your family; love was Simon who married your sister to not let her fall in a scandal; maybe love was Colin who would refuse to dance with any ladies to dance with Penelope... you were sure that love was the smile on your mother’s face at the wedding of Daphne and Simon.

Was love the flower in your hair? Was love the book on your bedside table that had a sweet note from Friedrich? Was love the fact that he forbide to you and your family to bow when you meet? Was love the shivers you felt on your back everytime you were extremely close to him? Or when he spoke in your ear?

You weren’t sure if what you felt was love, maybe the love arrived after the marriage, or maybe after the first child, but something strong must precede it, right? The same strong feeling you felt inside your chest all the time you thought about him. If it was love, if there were a thiny little chance that what you felt was the true love that mother used to talk about then you had to fight and keep it. No Prince, no Duchess and no Queen could take it away until you said so.

You stood up walking in front of the wardrobe opening it and then turned around to look at Mary whose eyes were already on you. “Mary, I want to look like a princess, tonight.”

“I promise you, Miss Bridgerton, you will be the most beautiful Princess that the world had ever seen.” she said smiling and starting to search the right dress among the ones that your mother made you buy from the modist.

“I’m fine with just the England and Prussia.” you smirked slyly.

Hours passed and finally you were ready to take the carriage with your brother and your mother. Benedict spoke to you before your departure, complimeting your beauty and reassuring you that everything would be fine.

He was right, you were beautiful. Your dress, long and bright blue Bridgerton had gems on the top and the bottom was simple but elegant. You didn’t want to wear to much jewerly, they weren’t your type, so instead you decide to wear a necklace choker with a small diamond in it. Your long arms were free and around your shoulder was a shawl of a colour little more lighter than your dress.

When the door of the throne room opened in fron of you the nervouness made you almost faint. Sit on the thrones were Queen Charlotte and a beautiful woman you suspected to be the Duchess; Friedrich was standing beside the Queen and his father beside his mother.

“Your Majesties: Lady Viole Bridgerton, her son Lord Anthony Bridgerton and her daughter, Miss Y/n Bridgerton.” the guard announced you. You three walked toward the throne smiling even thought you didn’t know who to look at, so you watched the Queen and the Duchess until the end and then, before bowing, you looked at your Prince who was already looking at you and both of you smiled at each other.

Staying bowed in front of the Queen felt like the day you’ve got present to her along with Daphne, but this time Prince Friedrich was there and coming to your side he offered you a hand. You took it and stood up smiling at him. Even thought you charmed him with everything you did, he didn’t want to see you bow in front of him; it seemed like everytime you did it a wall grew up between you two.

“Your Majesties, it’s a honor to all of us to meet you.” said your brother raising up beside you with your mother.

The Duchess stood up and with her husband walked toward you. You couldn’t read their expression at all. The Duchess was a beautiful woman with long blonde curly hair and the Prince was as tall as his son with white hair and a kind face.

You smiled trying to relase your nerves, they both seemed kind and Friedrich spoke about them a lot so yoi kinda knew that they weren’t difficult people, but still their looks made you feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Friedrich didn’t give justice at your beauty, sweetheart.” the Duchess said smiling allowing you to leave a breath of relief.

“You are too kind, Your Grace.” you smiled shyly. You didn't know what to say or what to do, should you say a compliment as well?

"It's a pleasure meet you, Miss Bridgerton. My son talked a lot about you, all good thing of course.” said his father smiling and kissing your hand.

“I’m flattered, Your Grace. I hope Prince Friedrich didn’t lie too much.” they laughed and invited you and your family into the dining room. You and Friedrich walked together behind your brother and his father and in front of your mothers while the Queen led you through the halls.

“Prince Friedrich?” he asked looking at you with a eyebrow raised offering his arm to walk closer.

“They are the Duchess and Prince of Prussia, I cannot call their son by his first name. It’s inappropriate!” you said amused intertwining your arms together, enjoying that little touch.

“Are you nervous?” he asked kindly giving a quick look behind; your mothers were speaking together whispering and looking at the two of you.

“Why should I? There is my brother, and there is you at my side. I have everything I need right now.” you miled seeing his face light up.

“Then I promise you I will never leave your side until you order me so.” he took your chair like a gentleman helping you to sit and then he sat beside you.

“I think you will have to keep your promise for a long time, Friedrich.” you gave him a sweet smile before looking the others at the table.

The Duchess was sit in front of you beside your mother, you were between Friedrich and your brother while the Queen and the Prince were at the two heads of the table. You offered a smile to everyone noticing that the Duchess’ smile never left her face while you spoke.

They made you questions, what you liked to do, where you met Friedrich and the Prince asked you to tell them about your travel with Colin leaving you surprise by such kindness and curiosity. Friedrich took every chance to speak with you and your mother, wanting to make both feel comfortable, but the Duchess commited herself in a lot of conversation with you.

Once the dinner was ended you hoped that you and Friedrich could have time to walk away like usual, but the Duchess surprised you again.

“Miss Bridgerton, can I have the honor to walk with you a little?” she asked making your eyes grew wider. Friedrich tried to say something but his mother sushed him. “Don’t worry Friedrich, I only want to know her without you men around. Come sweetheart, you can show me the garden.”

You gave a smile to Friedrich trying to reassure more yourself than him. You walked with the Duchess out of the dining room with two guards behind you. “Your Grace...just know that the honor is mine...” you said shyly trying to break that silent.

“Please we are alone, call me Frederica now. My husband is the one who follows the rules.” she took your arm kindly, but you could feel that it was different from when was Friedrich the one who took it.

“I am not sure if I can do it, Duchess.” your sincerity made her laugh.

“Friedrich told me that. You are really a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“I hope so, You Gra-F...Frederica.” you got out into the garden. The moon was full illuminating all the flowers and the fountains.

“You learn fast! Come, sit down with me. Here, good.” you sat confused starting to wonder the real reason of that walk. “Now, I wished to speak with you alone for a long time.” you nodded to let her keep going. “My son is a charming man, and many women fell for him even before knowing his title. Hi’s handsome, I’m aware of that, but still his heart is kind and big and it’s my duty as a mother to make sure that it will not break for the wrong person. So, I can trust you and leaving his heart in your hands?”

“Of course you can, Your Grace. I have no desire to make Friedrich unhappy or even break his heart. I would never, never do such thing. ” your heart was beating faster and faster afraid that one wrong word and the Duchess would walk away forbidding you to see her son again.

“Good! You can come back to my son then, I’m sure he is worried for you. I’ll stay here to enjoy this beautiful night.” she said relaxed looking the sky. You watched her astonished...did she really believed you? Didn’t she need a speech or a proof?

She seemed so in peace with herself, like that was the happiest moment in her life. You could run away, you could return to your Prince and spend time with him. It was what your body wanted, indeed your legs made you stooding up and walking away. Few steps and your consciouness made you stop, you couldn’t leave her there with just those words.

“Your Grace...” she looked at you like she was already expecting it. “My father died when I was little...I don’t have many memories with him, he was a busy man, but I knew he loved all of us.” she smiled sweetly taking your hand to make you sit again. “I grew up with the stories of my mother about how much they loved each other. It was my favorite tale when I was little and my biggest dream now...you see, I don’t know what is love, I don’t know how to recognise it, but I promised to myself that I would have married for love, the same love that my father felt for my mother and vice versa, the same love that keep my mother waking up every morning alone in the same bed she once shared with the love of her life.” the Queen had tears in her eyes with a hand in front of her mouth. “In your son I found a friend, I found someone with who I can share interests and hobbies. He makes me feel above the moon, and I hope I do the same at him...I don’t know if this is love, but I assure you that nothing will change my feelings for him and could God never forgive me if I will break his heart.”

She hugged you, strongly and warm as your mother was used to do. It didn’t feel strange that the Duchess of Prussia was hugging you, it felt like a second mother. “My marriage was not for love, but I made sure that Friedrich knew the meaning of it. My biggest desire is that a day he would have what I didn’t, and I think I can trust you, dear Y/n.” she smiled wiping away the few tears she had on her cheeks. “Go, we have made my son waiting enough.” you returned inside laughing with the Duchess leaving all of the people inside the living room speechless. “Oh, hi honey. I’m sorry if we did late, you two will make up for the lost time in these days. Now it’s late, should we going to sleep?”

“I agree, Your Grace. Come Y/n, it’s quite a long journey.” said your mother standing up from the couch looking for Anthony who was speaking with the Prince.

“At this time the street are dangerous, Lady Bridgerton. Are you sure you don’t need some guard with you?” asked Queen Charlotte concerned.

“Thank you, Your Highness, but I have to refuse your offer.” Anthony said bowing and taking his hat.

“Such nosense! The Palace has hundreds rooms at least, you could stay here for the night.” Prince Louis suggested looking Anthony for his approval.

“It’s too much, Price Louis. We don’t want to disturb Your Highness even more.” he said polite looking the Queen.

You and Friedrich shared a confused look, what if you would spend the night there? You could see him in the morning and maybe he would walk you at home to stay together longer.

“In some way or another Lady Bridgerton we are destined to be family...” the Queen said looking at you and Friedrich quickly making you both blush. “So I don’t see any problem to let you sleep here for a night. Prince Friedrich wuold never forgive me if something happens to you.”

With astonishment in the face of all of you Bridgerton, the waitress showed you the rooms where you would stay. All the three of you got separeted at some point and you had no idea where were the rooms of your brother and your mother; you didn’t even know where you were.

Your room was huge, full of paintings and books. There was a canopy bed in front of you, the blankets were white, pure as a flower that must be took yet; just like you.

You let your hair free from all the haripins, the long waves caressed your back while you let the dress fell down. You took the corset away, breathing again like you had been drowing; you would sleep in your petticoat that was of the colour of your dress.

Once the curtains were closed, you were ready to go to sleep when you heard someone knocking at your door. Sure that it was your brother or your mother you went to open it before gasping in surprise. Friedrich was in front of you, not in his usual uniform, but with a simple beige shirt and black pants.

“Y-your Gr...I mean Friedrich. I didn’t expect you to come here.” you were afraid; afraid of how easyly seemed in that moment to fall and commit a sin without being seen, and you couldn’t let it happen.

“I know, I am sorry to disturb you. I wanted to make sure if you were ok...I don’t know what you and my mother talked about...” he said smiling. You let out a breath; of course he wasn’t there to tempt you, his intentions were true and it wasn’t his fault if you felt such strange feelings inside you. He wasn’t aware of the battle your body was having with your mind.

“You are so kind, Friedrich. I am more than fine, your mother is really the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” you offered him a smile. “I thank you for your though, but it would be not appropriate if some one see us here alone...”

“I-I know and it was not my intention to insult you in any way coming here. It felt strange being in the same place but not being together...I missed you, Y/n.” you felt your heart melt at his words making you close the door behind you so that you were in the desert hall together.

You took his hand bringing it to your cheek. You close your eyes for few moments enjoying his warm against your skin. “I missed you too, Friedrich, but I had to assure your mother with some business.”

You smiled to each other while he came closer to you with a step. You had never imagined that being at the same distance as when you dance would be different if you two were alone. There was no reason to stop, there was no reason to compose yourself if no one would be able to see you, and you were scared that there was nothing to hold your body to take what it craved so much.

He kissed your hair letting your forehead restin on each other. You noticed that his breath had got heavier just as yours and you had to close your eyes to focus on the situation and not on his lips so close to yours.

He cleared his throat caressing your cheek with his thumb. “A proper gentleman would leave, wishing you a good night and telling you he would wait the morning to come so he could see you again.”

“And a true Lady would thank you for your words and praying to the morning to come faster so that the hours spent alone wouldn’t be too much.” you whispered taking big breath. You felt something tickling inside your stomach, your legs shaking and shivers were emanated from his other hand that now was gently rested on your hip.

“Can...can you hear someone approacing? Listen carefully.” both of you staied silent trying to control your breaths so that you could hear better.

No noise arrived at your ears, only the whisper of the night that brought sinful suggest. You shaked your head slowly, not wanting to break the silent that was hugging you, hiding your bodies from the people out there.

He opened his mouths few times, trying to say something but the words died in his throat. He was distracted by so many things...your skin under his hand, the blush on your cheeks... he was drunk of your parfume and your breath on his lips was like a magnet to him; a magnet too strong for his own soul.

He brought his lips on yours, slowly and kindly, leading you on the street of the pleasure. Your body was completely under his control; your hands went to caress his hair while his hand that was on your cheek lowered slowly on your neck. His thumb kept moving on your skin while the hand went on the back of your neck, knowing that you would not be the first to break the kiss, but keeping your body hypnotized by his touch.

He kept his movement slow even when the kiss got deeper. You were sure he knew what he was doing, because when you felt your legs shaking even more he made your back rest on the door closed behind you.

Your body knew what to do, your lips moved with his like it was something you had done every day, and oh god you wished you could. Now that you had tasted him, now that you were feeling his lips on yours and his hands touching your body like he never did, you wanted more. You were sure that you couldn’t have enough of him from that day on, because once you know the sweet taste of a sin, you can’t stop.

#prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #fluff

574 notes · View notes

bunchofstraydogs · 3 years

Text

Dazai Osamu character breakdown as I understand him

Meaning that this might be inaccurate and your opinion and visage of him might differ from mine, which is just fine. We perceive the world and the people around us through our experiences and expectations. I'm curious to know how you guys see a complex character like Dazai, just please respect everyone's opinions.

Warning: Manga plot mentions, s2 spoilers, BEAST light novel spoilers, Dazai Osamu

Dazai Osamu was introduced into the scene of Bungou Stray Dogs at 14 when Mori found him.

Even at that young age, Dazai had suicidal tendencies and had been wrapped in bandages similarly as he is in the present. Already dealing with too much trauma for a child his age, the fire is fuelled as he was forced to bear witness to the death of the Port Mafia boss at the hands of Mori, the person that took him under his wing. To use him; which was becoming very apparent to Osamu if he hadn't been aware since the start. Now, I'm not saying that death of the previous boss left a particular scar on Samu, he even agrees with it and is something he himself would have done. But that that is the scene that bore fruit of the following quotes:

"Or could it be that you're afraid, Mori-san? That one day i will slit your throat and take over as the boss?"

followed by

"Everyone seems suspicious to those who have an axe to grind."

This tells us right away that he can tell what type of person you are just from the way you perceive your surroundings, which is logical, but not something many think too deep into.

Even less who have their evaluations of others on point like he does. And he has to, since Dazai's plan is always to understand his allies, his enemies, possible allies and possible enemies. He also takes into account important neutral parties that can still, in one way or another, affect the outcome of his plans or decide to align with one side out of common interest. After comes realising the main goals, along with side achievements (just in case some of those maim his allies or ruin the future plans he made) of every party. Taking in their morals and motivation, and being familiar with the ground the confrontation will happen on, he now has the view of the whole chess board and it's pieces in his head. He moves his allies in the right places, knowing how they'll react in the situation to come, and awaits the enemies with open fire arms. He was tought to think like that. At all times. Mori made sure of it. You know how specialists never really stop thinking in their areas of expertise, like doctors, for example, will naturally notice people's posture and look for scoliosis or whatever? How your foot hits the floor, if you're walking straight, your knees and shoulders, etc. Same for Dazai. His brain maps out person's expressions, reactions, choices, personality, etc. in great detail. I'm pretty sure he has eidetic memory, if his conversations in manga with Fyodor are anything to go by.

Another thing his brain does is think of worst possible outcomes.

Not in a fear of what if things go wrong, but as a possible route. He uses it to determine how big of a threat the opposing force is and what steps they'll have to take to achieve that. Knowing that, he'll know how to intercept them. Also, like everything else, it's not something he can control since we're talking about thought process here and that's just how his brain works. Can't magically turn that off. It's especially annoying to him when he's genuinely enjoying himself with, let's say, ADA members and then his brain goes brrr.

•"A lot happened recently and we're a torn in many people's eyes." *Tanizaki and Atsushi drinking punch* "There's a possibility, while a small one, about 8% at this very moment, but as time goes on will increase, that an organisation outside of Yokohama decided we're an unavoidable threat and poisoned the drinks. Don't drink that. Nothing will happen, they'll wake up tomorrow in pristine condition don't drink th-"

Yeah, i feel bad for him too.

He has PTSD and insomnia, besides the hectic brain,

so he's not getting proper amount of rest. Actually, he drinks almost every night by himself at home. Pretty sure it's canon as well, because if you search for a picture of him in his room, you'll see him surrounded by multiple bottles. Two of the PTSD symptoms are hallucinations and night terrors (no, that is not the same as a nightmare). What people usually do is use opium to cause hallucinations in a safe environment so that there's little chance of them happening uncontrolled. He's probably using alcohol to numb himself while he's reminiscing, since if he does still have hallucinations after years having passed by (which isn't impossible), they're probably few and far between. Not saying there's no chance he isn't using opium. He would know where to get what he needs, after all.

Osamu's haunted by his own actions as well, not just by trauma caused to him.

At an uncountable amount of occasions, he found himself looking into a mirror and not really comprehending his image. It was like dissociation. Looking through a fog at what's supposed to be your carbon copy, but not knowing all of your features perfectly, so whatever you're seeing could only be an impostor, yet you're not sure because that would take comprehending physical proof of your life to the fullest and how it works and he just... can't. He can but he doesn't want to. He already knows he's despicable and broken, doesn't really feel the need to see just how much. He can't, for all his perfect memory, remember the faces of the people he has killed. He hadn't even seen all of them, but he was responsible for their demise. Causing havoc and misfortune in general through other crimes besides murder as well. We've seen his expression when he listened in on Atsushi talking to Kyouka over the earpiece how the 35 deaths don't matter anymore. He knows they do and he knows that the change of heart won't justify what he's they've done. Ango thought him to value each life. But he also knows that even murderers can change and become good. Oda did that. It's also what's keeping him in the agency.

When Oda died, his last words mentioned that Dazai doesn't care about good or bad and that was correct for Dazai Osamu back then. I genuinely think that his present self does mind the difference.

He believes in necessary evil and will do dark shit to get the good outcome he's envisioned.

He doesn't separate outlaws and lawful people, however.

He knows that generally speaking, the line is thin and easy to cross and that many were born or forced into the situations they are. Those that fight the life thrown at them are an exception, not a rule. That's also why he likes Atsushi, probably the main reason. The boy has every right to hate the world and yet. Dazai is envious, he doesn't really have the same capacity.

I want now to talk about why does Dazai Osamu do what Dazai Osamu does.

The reason he attempts suicide, joined the mafia, made friends at all, is because for all his intelligence and observations, ability to understand others, he doesn't really understand himself.

He doesn't understand his worth. He doesn't understand his purpose. In all of that confusion, he finds no reason to live. He laughs but can't get the high, he bruises but can't fully heal. In all of the things people find happiness in he can't feel joy from. He is emotionally stunted. He thinks too logically. He doesn't understand actions out of emotions because to him, it doesn't make sense. Emotions cloud your mind and when you're not thinking straight, you make mistakes. Plain and simple. He just accepts it, that most people simply cannot control themselves and prefer lashing out instead of methodical approach. All the better for him, he has leverage. Even when he does act on impulse, which is incredibly rare and not as explosive and dramatic, his brain rationalises it as to why his actions were a good way to go. And if his reaction was one that bore fruit, than it was a tactical one.

"If you place yourself somewhere close to raw emotions, where you're exposed to raw violence and death, instinct and desire, you can brush against man's true nature. I though that way i could find a reason to live somehow."

From this, i can tell that he was hoping that, in a situation where he's pushed far enough, he'd realise what's important to him, what he wants to protect or destroy, what's one thing he wouldn't want to leave unsettled before dying. What is that one thing he'd regret dying before achieving? What should he fight death for. What is worth living on for? To him, it doesn't matter if that something is good or evil as long as he gets to keep it in his life.

It seems he hadn't found it exactly, but is satisfied with what he has for now, in the agency, to just keep going. But he still tries to commit suicide, hoping that one day, when the clear picture of the world around him is fading away, when he's becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he's loosing control over his body and thoughts don't seem to flow well, there will be one thing, anyone, screaming at him to fight it. New day new chances. It didn't happen today, better luck tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomo-.

Now, like Mori, Dazai feels the need to, at all times, be in control of the situation. Including people.

That means no one, but perhaps Ranpo due to his own abnormal intellect, is aware of their own role. They know their mission, but they're not expecting to be given that particular one because they'll come across an obstacle they would react to in a way that would satisfy Osamu's plans.

Dazai Osamu is more of a chemist, than a chess player, if you ask me.

Throwing different people into the mix, under different conditions at different times and is noting down their reactions in safe surrounding if possible, so that when the time calls for it, he'll be able to make a perfect concoction for the predicament. A chemist and his substances; A chess player and his pawns; A puppeteer and his puppets. Now, Dazai is meticulous and never rash, but like everyone else (except effin Lovecraft what is he even) he's only human and he bleeds when he falls down and humans aren't perfect. He isn't always right. That means he makes mistakes. The issue with big shot players that control the board is that, when they fall down, everyone on their side crashes and burns as well. So the day Dazai fucks up everyone else will follow because of lack of insight on their part that's completely out of their control. All it takes is for him to underestimate or overestimate one person and chaos ensues. There is no such thing as happy little accidents small mistakes for someone like him. I have crippling anxiety and a sole thought that one hiccup could blow up in everyone's face... damn. I would try committing suicide myself. But it's his fault, he brought upon himself an obligation and pressure like that. To be fair, it was Mori that drilled that type of thinking where no one should know what you plan because they can't ruin what they don't know If they turn against you, they can't stop you.

For his own sake, and everyone else's, Dazai needs to learn how to show his cards and share the burden.

Again, going back to the emotionally stunted guy that has commitment issues (where he either can't commit or can't let go) trope.

He never outright does something good for someone where people would acknowledge it, he uses his underhanded tactics here as well.

He casually makes himself look like a bad guy, an asshole, to conveniently move attention from the inner turmoil a person is struggling with to a present problem at hand that they can fix and let their frustrations out on. But he hopes that, one day, someone just might notice his intentions for what they are and do the unspeakable- see through him.

"I'm a very private person. You don't ask, i don't tell."

Yes, and your whole existence is just a huge cry for help. He wants to be asked. He's begging for attention. A specific type of attention. One that will see him without making him feel imposed on. One that will understand his sins without making a big deal out of it. Accept him as a person he is, makes him feel like one as well. Makes him feel alive. Makes him feel... period.

The day he finds that thing is the day he completely turns his life around and fully dedicates to it. It's where the part of not being able to let go commitment issue ensues.

Since Oda's death he's been secretly keeping an eye out on possible ways to bring him back. If you've read Beast AU you know that when Dazai gets his hands on the book, he'll create a universe where Oda doesn't die. Should he find an ability user that can bring back the dead, just tell him what it will take, he's ready to destroy his own soul for it and if that isn't enough, well, he'll have no hesitation ruining theirs. After all, BEAST!Dazai Osamu never actually met Odasaku, he just had the memories he'd gotten from his canon self and that was enough for him to do everything he did.

He's incredibly selfish and has a weird come in but the door is a wall dynamic he rolls with in his self imposed solitude.

It's like the walls of the space in my brain are ugly and terrifying, so i closed off the entrance to keep myself in. I'm doing you a favour but please break the wall down and tell me it's okay to come out i don't want to be here-

Happy little thoughts woah woah yeah~

That's what i got from what I've seen of him. I may have missed some things, some things might prove to be wrong as the series progress further, but yeah.

There is, however, one more thing i want to put out here. Since Dazai was already like this before Mori found him, that begs to question as to why? What happened to him?

Now, since the characters are based on real people, is it crazy to say that Dazai Osamu has had a horrible childhood because of his father? Real life Dazai was terrified of his dad and was very intimidated by him. He always tried to stay in his good graces out of fear of punishment. Neither of his parents felt like a parent to him, actually. His father didn't care and his mother was often ill, but did care for him when she could. Both of them died eventually.

This could be the plot Kafka based Dazai's background on, but we'll have to wait and see.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #meta #dazai osamu headcanon #dazai osamu headcanons #hc #hcs #psychoanalysis

186 notes · View notes

montystarotchild · 3 years

Text

💥2021 Predictions for the Zodiac💥

Sun, Moon, Venus, Rising

These readings were originally handwritten and channeled with care. I hope that it resonates and eases us into the dynamic energy of all that 2021 holds for us! If you feel called to, hold onto this post as a reference throughout 2021.

Oh and Happy Full Moon in Cancer! 🌕

Aries (Tiger’s Eye, 444)

2021 will be a deep dive for you emotionally. This is the year you tap into your intuition on purpose. This year has proven that sometimes things just don’t make sense to us. We have been challenged in 2020 to keep moving forward into the unknown. It makes no sense to stop now. A main lesson in 2021 will be to surrender to the workings of the Universe and allow passion to drive you forward instead of doubt. This is an opportunity to expand your consciousness and to reawaken your spirit. 2021 will be a chance for you to tap into your true passions. For some, this may be another year of limited connection to others and I’m seeing that this might not be a problem for you. You are going to be so enthralled with learning more about the subconscious, specifically your own, and how the mind works. I’m also seeing a curiousity around hidden things i.e. solving mysteries/puzzles. This will be the time for you to pursue what is calling to your intuition. It may be to learn a different language or to learn more about language in general. There may be a major shift or many shifts in your perspective in 2021. With this deep introspection and thirst for more out of life, you may look different to others. Just a reminder, it is not selfish or “abandonment” of others when we are healing ourself. There are ways to put your passions first and still be present in your life and current relationships. Balance looks different for everyone. The most important part is that one aspect of your life doesn’t receive more attention than the others. The key is flow. How will you find your flow in the New Year? With Jupiter and Saturn in Aquarius, this is your time to break away from what everyone else is doing. Going along with what society is doing or telling you to do won’t cut it this year. You’ll find that you much rather hang upside down, you’ll like the view from there much more.

Taurus (Aquamarine, 444, 666, 888)

Isn’t it ironic that Taurus rules the throat and you have the ‘Authentic Voice’ as the theme of your 2021? You are reawakening your throat chakras Taurus! This may be huge for many of you. You may have had difficulties in the past or even this year with communicating affectively. It could have seemed that often your words were not taken into consideration because others couldn’t make sense of them. There is no blame to either party. Language is tough. If we aren’t speaking authentically it makes it harder for others to truly understand our needs. 2021 is bringing in more clarity to your thoughts. This will be the year to see things as they really are for everyone but specifically for you to speak on it as well. Every voice and story is different which is the concept of authenticity. You are good enough exactly as you are beautiful Taurus and it’s time to stand in that energy. All that you admire in others, it is time to admire within yourself. “There is no choir if there is only one sound, one voice.” You will be receiving recognition next year. It could be as specific as getting that voice over role you took a leap of faith on or speaking up more in your personal life in general. Those around you will be recognizing the reemergence of your powerful and authentic voice. There will also be others who flock to what you have to say and have never even met you. Many of you may want to share life experiences and knowledge through podcasts or something like Clubhouse that focuses strictly on voice. 2021 will be the gift of unique thoughts and ideas, the proper communication to express these ideas and recognition from a supportive community. When channeling your authentic voice remember that these are the messages that the Divine has sent through you with love.

Gemini

Your spirit is growing young Gemini! Many of you spent 2020 working on your light and soul and that has played a huge part in your spiritual energy leveling up. This is where you create great impact through whatever you expel this energy through. Aside from the things you create, your energy alone will be affecting others in 2021. Some of you may have been keeping your energy to yourself in order to heal and in 2021 you will be stepping more out of Hermit mode. Even though Hermit mode will also be a saving grace as well. In 2021 you will be receiving an increase of downloads from Spirit. A huge lesson/experience that may come up for you is delivering a softer message to others. As a Gemini Sun myself, I have pure intentions to always hold truth at the highest standard but that has sometimes hurt others in the process. In 2021, as you are growing in your power, Spirit is helping with the intensity of your light. You will be helping others who are still energetically sensitive to authentic power and authority. That doesn’t mean to hold back your light or hinder your own growth, it just means if they didn’t ask you for that word of advice, don’t tell it. Those who are seeking a deeper truth will seek you out first! Happy expanding!

Cancer

This is a really interesting reading Cancerians. In 2021 you are being asked to make a sacrifice in order to gain a greater fulfillment. I see that in 2020 we did all we could to still feel good in such a crazy year. That required that we find a lot of balance between our wants and needs. You may have experienced a burst of creativity recently or have been wanting to hone a skill that has been lying dormant. Although it feels like you can absorb as much information about this passion as possible you are being asked to pause in the New Year. Many people may see the Hanged Man in the tarot deck as stuck but this is where he gains a whole new perspective. If we ran head first with every single thing we were passionate about in that moment without even asking “what do I want?” we could end up on a very different path than we are meant to be on. If you find yourself constantly trying in 2021, it may be best if you surrender your wants to the Universe and embrace new solutions to your needs. Even though this may be a very uncomfortable state you find yourself in you must constantly remind yourself that Spirit will never offer you less than what is a part of your true destiny. You are safe!

Leo

In 2021 I see that you will be reaching a crossroad in your life. You are being granted the opportunity to leave the past in the past and embark on the rest of your journey. The significance of this crossroad is it’s acting as a checkpoint within your journey to ensure that you are no longer carrying that extra baggage with you. This is not a transition that you need to fear. We tend to carry things with us so long that we are convinced it truly belongs to us but that is rarely the case. The familiarities of life have become boundaries. This may have really worked for you this year as many have used this time for healing. While familiarity can be beneficial it doesn’t create security. In 2021 this may be a huge and constant lesson for your understanding. Even though things may change drastically (like moving in a completely different direction) you must realize that your true security comes from the Universe and it sees your pure intentions. Many of you may know what decision it is that you are being asked to make and it scares you. It is essential that you allow your heart to lead you so that your mind can’t create doubt and keep you stuck. Life is always evolving, there will always be another crossroad to cross. As long as you move with love and integrity there is nothing to fear of the future.

Virgo

In 2021 you are getting a full view of your emotional self. This may be something you have rejected strongly in the past in order to put more focus into your financial self. This aversion to our soul mirror has been out of fear of what we may find. No one really wants to look within and find out they are somewhat of a hoarder or place value over personality. This year we are focusing less on what we have and more on who we are and the aspects of ourselves that we are constantly juggling. This year you are being asked to bear witness to what you feel. You will constantly find a safe space in solitude with Spirit in order to face yourself fully. When you allow a new depth of truth into your life, foundations may feel challenged and insecurities around a lack mindset might be exposed. How do you welcome vulnerability in your life? When someone is vulnerable it is not a weakness. We are not taught to meet every situation we encounter with love but it is never too late to learn. Situations in the past (or as recent as this year) have closed us off to love. That is a natural reaction to pain but we aren’t meant to live our entire lives in lovelessness. This is your year of healing the heart. Healing isn’t linear and everyday won’t feel the same, but, when you find yourself believing in and accepting your blessings that is how you know that your heart is opening up to everything the Universe has to offer.

Libra

This year a lot of us may have taken an “L” on something we really wanted to do or accomplish. It may have been something that you needed extra time or resources for in order to succeed. For some, this situation may not have been what you really wanted and this “no” was a blessing in disguise. Take what resonates. Either way, there is a need for forgiveness if you felt “you could’ve done more”. In 2021 you are experiencing the perfection of you. Connecting your soul to the source of Divinity will bring in a swelling of positive emotions. Your love for Source will heal your love for self. This will be a year of new friendships and connections. New emotional beginnings in general. I am seeing that this year you may have also ran into conflict with others while you were pursuing your ambitions. You may have had difficulties balancing relationships and your thirst for creative endeavors. Your energy is recalibrating with the air of a New Year and new opportunities on the horizon. Others will be drawn to the rebirth of your energy in 2021. Your shift in perspective and emotional investment into all that you are passionate about will inspire others to lead the same life. Remembering that you are made of the same energy that created the heavens and the Earth will entrain the perfection of you in your heart.

Scorpio

In the beginning of 2020 you may have been hesitant and had little faith as to how everything you wanted would come about. You may have had scattered ideas, fragments of a full picture but as the year progressed, you gained more clarity. You witnessed the world opening up to you even as the 3D was shutting down due to quarantine. You are ending this year with an “anything can happen” mindset leaning towards positivity and the notion that you can handle that “anything”. You have actually been excited/eager to see what happens next. Because you have been learning more about yourself emotionally you are entering 2021 with a clear mindset as to who you are and what you bring to the table. You will be making decisions based off of your intuition alone, that’s how in tune you are with yourself. When most will say “there is no logic in intuition” you will simply laugh. Your intuition is leading you straight towards this 9 of pentacles energy. Milestones will be surpassed. Personal achievement will bring you great satisfaction and deepen your trust in Spirit and self. 2020 has taught you that listening to your individuality is hard but prosperous. Continue focusing on your personal values and what you believe is true and nothing can sway you from your blessings. You are a unique individual and it’s time to embrace all that that encompasses; power + authority.

Sagittarius

There is a great cleansing coming to you this New Year. In 2020 you put all of your energy towards the nurturing of yourself which in turn helped nurture those around you. You are ending this year feeling more emotionally complete because of this. You may be ending a cycle of putting other people’s nurturing over your own. This may have been a huge lesson for you. So much so that you actually felt a physical shift. This deep healing has been internally focused and will need to continue this way. As 2020 has taught us, nothing is set in stone, not even healing. In 2021 you will need to continue to observe what is causing disharmony in your life. It could be a situation that seems impossible to get out of. But let’s just say the beginning of 2021 will not look like the end of it. Like the aftermath of a storm , there will be many things that will be cleared away in your life. The people that don’t fit, the mindsets that hold you back or an unfulfilling job, nothing is off limits to Spirit. There will be a shift in your perspective where you won’t view it as a loss but a gain of space and energy for more aligned moments in your life. This is Spirit’s gift to you, literally a brand new beginning where we can put ourselves first. You have all Major Arcana which signifies life long changes and a deep acceptance of self.

Capricorn (222, 888)

This year you chose love over everything else. What truly spoke to you, you embraced, and all that you outgrew is being left in 2020. It took strength to continuously choose an emotion that is foreign to most. You dedicated yourself to this rebirth and are emerging as someone who appears to be different but you are just claiming your true self. This New Year you will be stepping onto the entrepreneurial path if you haven’t already. I’m seeing something physical like a pottery business or a mechanic shop. Either way this will be something you are passionate about. If you find that some people want to take advantage of your beautiful spirit don’t worry. There won’t be a need for any action. Heal from it and allow the Universe to handle them. 2021 is your time to retreat inwardly and explore the depths of your own subconscious. Whatever situation emerges, carrying love in your heart will help you prevail. This, unfortunately, does not make you immune to pain, but, it does help you conquer your doubt. Doubt of what you truly deserve, doubt of your capabilities and talent. This will be a great year to learn and understand where those doubts and fears stem from because you are more than capable Capricorns!

Aquarius

While 2020 was a difficult year for everyone emotionally, you my beautiful Aquarius, thrived creatively and soared to new heights. One of your greatest accomplishments this year could have been your patience towards your creative endeavors. And more patience even to yourself when creating. While others around you had difficulty accepting themselves you embraced this passionately. You’ve spent this year planting your seeds of love, knowledge and prosperity and this New Year you will have a bounty to show for taking such tender care. My question to you is do you believe it? That the Universe leaves no stone unturned when it comes to our blessings. And when I say blessings, our dreams, desires and everything we envision but can’t grasp just yet. You are stepping into 2021 healing and shedding all of your lack mindset around finances. This healing is going to prepare you for the abundance of 2021. I am also seeing that all of the signs and “coincidences” you’ve been seeing is Spirit confirming what you already know. It is safe to trust, keep releasing doubt. For some of you I am seeing a love interest entering your life this year. It could be quickly or sudden. They could be very creative, intelligent when it comes to social issues and equality. They are kind.

Pisces

This year you focused on harmony and balance in your life. When things felt unknown and unfamiliar you chose to allow your intuition to guide you. This balance and trusting of yourself and Spirit brought you abundance and stability. There was something that you may have been guided to that was like a well spring that you struck just right. This may have already appeared or is coming to you soon. You are stepping into 2021 with mental clarity and authority over your own thoughts. You will, or have already, find a unique balance of analytical thinking vs passionate creativity. Assuming authority over your fears and doubts will energetically charge you and encourage you to create more freedom in life. Not held back by self-made limitations or what others think. I am seeing that there could be a moment where you lose yourself in another in a relationship (platonic or romantic). This is me addressing it so that you can be aware but there is nothing to fear. Sometimes a relationship may ask so much of us up until the point we stop it and stand up for ourselves. This may not be present in your life currently, but if ever, don’t forget who you are and what you deserve. Keep striving for what is meant for you and makes you happy. This is your destiny!

If you enjoyed this reading please like/reblog! As this is a general reading, tipping isn’t required but always appreciated. 💖

https://cash.app/$aftonelizabethh

346 notes · View notes

sou-ver-2-0 · 4 years

Text

Sou Hiyori and Kanna’s Sister Parallels

In my short time in the Your Turn to Die fandom, I haven't seen anyone discuss the similarities between our Sou Hiyori and Kanna's older sister Kugie. This subtle parallel is one of the many fantastic writing details in this game, and it happens to be my favorite one. So I wanted to talk about it!

I love the irony that the characters in YTTD draw a more obvious parallel between Kugie Kizuchi and the game's protagonist, Sara Chidouin. Both Sara and Kugie are high-school aged girls, and Sara often plays the part of Kanna's big sister, leading Kanna to project her feelings for Kugie onto Sara. Although this is sweet, it's still a superficial parallel. Sara and Kugie play the same role, but how similar are they really? If you choose to chat with Kanna on the first day of Chapter 2's storyline, Kanna will tell you the truth about her adoptive sister. Instead of idealizing her, Kanna paints a more complex picture of a flawed young woman. Unlike Sara, Kugie bullied Kanna when they first met. It took time for the pair of them to feel like real siblings. On a deeper level, Kugie's own mini-character arc is very different from Sara's arc, but it perfectly mirrors Sou's arc!

Both Kugie and Sou have a cruel streak and they each make rash judgments about other people. However, they eventually reveal with their actions that they truly love Kanna deep down. While Sara can make the choice to abandon Kanna, both Kugie and Sou would die for the girl. Because of the striking parallels I see between Kanna's memories of Kugie and Kanna's present relationship with Sou, I want to believe that Kugie was just as willing as Sou was to die in order to save Kanna's life. Kugie's story effectively acts as a microcosm of Sou's story. So let's take a close look at it.

KANNA: ...Sara... / You're just like... my sister.

SARA: Huh...?

KANNA: Your strength... and your kindness... / ... / But my sister... / Wasn't always kind from the moment we met.

SARA: (The moment they met...?)

If you speak to Kanna during negotiation time on Day 1 of Chapter 2, the girl begins her story by telling Sara that she's just like her sister, since Sara shares Kugie's "strength and kindness." However, she admits that her sister "wasn't always kind from the moment we met." This is the first major difference between the two girls, and it's what clued me into the idea that Kugie's story might be a metaphor for Sou's story instead. It's also an early moment in which Kanna reveals that she's not as naive as people think she is. She's aware that Kugie was flawed, just like she's aware of Sou's flaws. She keeps choosing to believe in their capacity for good, even as she understands that they are capable of hurting her.

Following this revelation, we come to a notable choice.

1. CHOICE: You aren't blood-related?

SARA: ...Kanna. Are you and your sister not blood-related...?

KANNA: ...Right...

2. CHOICE: Guess I win

SARA: I was nice from the start, so guess I win.

KANNA: Ah... Even the way you say weird things like that is just like my sister...

SARA: (Strangely, that just got her more emotional...)

Sara can either ask "You aren't blood-related?" or smugly observe "Guess I win." Either way, Kanna will steer the conversation back to her adoption by the Kizuchi family. But the choice to declare "victory" over Kugie here fascinates me, since it's easy to connect this competitive sentiment to Sara's relationship with Sou. While Sara and Sou are obviously in a competition for their lives, what ends up mattering more is their competition for Kanna's affections. In both cases, Sou is painfully aware that he's the underdog with "zero percent chance of success." Sou is sure that Kanna would choose Sara's life over his life, if she were forced to make that awful choice.

For Sou, who believes that Kanna loves him less, his moral dilemma is whether to support Kanna in spite of this. The fact that he supports her unconditionally in the second Main Game speaks to his strength of character. He proves that he truly values Kanna more than his own life. For Sara, who already feels comfortable in the "victory" of Kanna's devotion, the moral question becomes whether the player will make choices that are worthy of the girl. Will you help Sou protect her? Or will you decide that Kanna's life is worth less than Sou's hacking skills? Sara's choice determines whether she truly shares Kugie's "strength and kindness."

I'll come back to Kanna's feelings on this "competition" later. For now it's enough to say that she recognizes that competitive streak in Kugie too, and that memory makes her "emotional." It shows how she loves these three characters even when they say "weird things." Again, Kanna is aware of Sara, Kugie, and Sou's flaws but still feels affection for them. That's just how it is when you love someone.

Kanna continues her story:

KANNA: ...See, Kanna's adopted.

SARA: ...!

KANNA: She came to her current family from an orphanage when she was little...

SARA: So you had different parents, too?

KANNA: Mom and dad were really kind... / Kanna... was determined to always smile, childishly thinking "I can't trouble them." / ...And Kanna's sister didn't seem to like her...

Here, Kanna reveals that she has always had the type of personality where she tries hard to please others. She was worried about being a burden long before the Death Game, but for a more ordinary reason; she's adopted. She's always been self-conscious. Her ongoing heartbreak and anxiety comes from a deep place of worrying that her big sister doesn't love her. This informs her current relationships with both Sara and Sou.

At this point, the narrative shifts to a flashback of Kanna's memories.

MOM: Stop it, Kugie! Why do you do such cruel things?!

KANNA: No, it's fine! Kanna's not angry... She's not, really... / Look, see! Ahaha... Ehehehehe...

KUGIE: ...What're you always laughing for?

KANNA: Huh...?

KUGIE: ...You're creepy. I hate it.

DAD: Hey, stop that! Apologize, Kugie!

Kugie calls Kanna "creepy" and even says that she "hates" that part of her. Sara can't ever say such cruel words to Kanna; the worst you can do as a player is speak sternly to her sometimes. But Sou absolutely can say cruel things. He has called Kanna "stupid kid," "dead weight," and a "hindrance" in front of the entire group. And just like the Kizuchi parents scolded Kugie for her mean words, our group members condemn Sou for his mean words.

Now, we know Sou wasn't actually speaking his heart with those words. He didn't have malicious intent. (In fact, he was trying to save Kanna's life.) Sou said those words because he wears a mask to cover his true self. That's the essence of his character. He tries to sound tough and logical to force people to take him seriously. He assumes that once he lets his guard down and shows weakness, everyone will vote to kill him. He becomes a bully because he's insecure.

What if Kugie was also wearing a mask when she bullied Kanna? Not because of the Death Game like Sou, but for a more ordinary reason. Maybe she was simply trying to sound "cool." Maybe Kugie bullied Kanna because she was also insecure, and it would be easy to take out her insecurity on a little girl like Kanna. Kanna is an awkward child who speaks in the third person and laughs for no reason. It would be easy for an older girl to look at Kanna and think, "At least I'm not as embarrassing as that." Even though we don't know Kugie as well as Sou, I think it's a logical assumption.

KANNA: Even then, I kept on smiling... I didn't... want to make sister out as a villain. / But one day, when it became unbearable... I ran away from home.

This is the saddest part but I love it because it's a direct parallel to what Kanna says about Sou!

During the Second Main Game, when Kanna confesses that she took the Sacrifice card from Sara, she says, "Kanna...Kanna...!! She didn't want to let Sara die...!! And also...!! She didn't want to make Sou a murderer...!!"

The things Kanna does for these two!!

In other words, there comes a point for both Kugie and Sou where their actions are so harmful that Kanna feels like she has to throw herself away to thwart their "villainy." She runs away from home. She takes the Sacrifice Card. Because she doesn't want these two people she loves to become villains.

We continue Kanna's story with another flashback. This time, it's accompanied by visual imagery of a small Kanna sitting by herself and crying while hiding her face under a bucket.

KANNA: ...sniff... sob...

KANNA: (narrating) I couldn't go home. I didn't want to... Thinking that to myself, I sat in the park with a bucket on my head and cried.

This is Kanna at her most vulnerable. She is isolated and alone. She has given up.

In the present day, Kanna has many hopeless moments like this since she has just lost her sister, the person she loved most. We can judge any of the game's characters by how well they treat her, the most vulnerable among them.

In Kanna's memory, there is a character who comes to speak with her at this time. A little boy who tries to joke with her and cheer her up. Kanna only remembers him as "Brat," but to the player, he looks an awful lot like a small Joe Tazuna! The following confrontation between Kanna, "Brat," and Kugie is my favorite part, because it leads to my favorite parallel.

BRAT: Hey! Whatcha doin'? / What's with the bucket?! Yer funny!

KANNA: ...sniff... sniffle...

BRAT: Huh? You cryin'?!

KANNA: ..........

BRAT: ...Alright. / *He lifts his shirt over his head.* How's that! Ehh?! Look at me! C'mon! Funny, right?

KANNA: ...uuuuu...

VOICE (KUGIE): What're you doing?!

BRAT: ...Huh...?

KUGIE: How dare you put a bucket on her head and tease her!! Beat it, you!!

BRAT: I-I wasn't teasin' her!

KUGIE: Liar!! Kanna's crying, isn't she?! D-Don't... be so cruel to my little sister!!

KANNA (narrating): ...That was the first time she called me "little sister"...

In the scene, "Brat" greets Kanna and tries to cheer her up by being a goofball. However, Kugie sees this and gets the wrong impression. She assumes that the boy is hurting Kanna and she rushes to her little sister's defense. As a result of Kugie's actions, Kanna finally sees Kugie's true loving heart.

This is, beat for beat, exactly what happens when Sou confronts Sara about Kugie's smartphone. Just like Kugie wrongly assumed that Joe was bullying Kanna, Sou wrongly assumes that Sara tampered with Kugie's smartphone to make it seem like Kugie hated Kanna. Even though Sou is wrong--Sara was trying to fix the smartphone, just like Sou was--this is the first moment that the player can see Sou's true heart. We learn that Sou's reasons for targeting Sara aren't due to him being some scheming mastermind; he's simply suspicious by nature and he makes rash judgments. He acts the way he does because he genuinely believes that Sara is dangerous. And for the first time, we see how deeply Sou cares about Kanna. We see him stand up to Sara to defend her. Then we see how he wrote a message full of love and hope on Kugie's phone.

When Kanna finally receives the phone, she cries "tears of salvation" over Kugie's new message. But Kugie's words are really Sou's words. And by the time we reach Chapter 3, we learn that Kanna knew the truth the whole time.

(KANNA): Kanna was always with her big sister. / Because she loved her a lot… / But Kanna was always just a bother to her… / Even that time when it mattered most, she couldn't do anything. / So she thought she was hated… / But that message... made her remember. / That surely, her big sister was watching over her… / That she had to stay strong on her own… / But, well… / The truth is, she knew… / That it wasn't her sister who wrote that message… / *Kanna remembers Sou's face.* .... / ...There's people who tried to protect Kanna. / There's people who worked to encourage her. / So... she doesn't want anyone else to die. / Because... they're all such kind people...

In the game, Kanna shares these thoughts with the player in the aftermath of Sou's death. This is the scenario in which Sou gets to complete the same arc as Kugie. They both sacrifice themselves to save the little sister they love so much. I'm sure that Kugie would have been grateful for Sou's help in writing that message and saving Kanna's life.

I'll finish sharing the rest of Kanna's story about Kugie:

KUGIE: ...You still crying?

KANNA: S-Sorry... sister...

KUGIE: ... / ...So you cry too, Kanna.

I think the wording of that last sentence in English is interesting. The obvious interpretation is that Kugie realizes that Kanna has been secretly crying and hiding her true self all this time. But on another level, I wonder if Kugie is admitting that she herself "cries too"? That would confirm Kugie's insecurity. And it would make this a moment in which Kugie sees herself in Kanna, just like it's implied that Sou sees his "weak self" in Kanna. In any case, this "unmasking" of Kanna's true heart is a good parallel for Sou's story as well. Kanna also hides her feelings like he does.

KANNA: ..........

KUGIE: .......... / Kanna... I'm sorry...

KANNA: ...Sister...

KUGIE: Mom and dad are worried, so let's get home quick, okay?

KANNA: O... Okay! Eheheh...

It is possible for Sou to apologize to Kanna in the prologue of Chapter 2, Part 2. His wording is more ominous than Kugie's, though he keeps Kugie's sentiment about returning home: "...Sorry. / Just relax. If you’re obedient, I’ll tell you how to survive."

Continuing with Kanna's story, the narrative shifts back to the present day.

KANNA: ...Ever since then, my sister and I got along really well.

SARA: I see...

KANNA: Without any blood relation... Kanna and her sister got along really... really well... / ..........

I love this line because it can apply to Sou as well, since he isn't blood-related to Kanna either. All of Kanna's protective siblings commit to her well-being by their own choice.

SARA: Kanna...

KANNA: Kanna... will definitely go home...! Because she needs to tell mom and dad...! / Determination... / A kind of determination... much too heavy for a girl her age to bear. / ...I should be going soon. Sou might wake up, after all... / Thank you very much... Sara.

Kanna ends her story with a determined speech to return home and honor Kugie's memory. As we read earlier, Kanna gives a similar determined speech in the aftermath of Sou's sacrifice. Later in Chapter 3, she further expresses a desire to honor Sou’s memory, saying “I want to know more about the man who sacrificed himself for me.” This is Kanna at her strongest! This is a Kanna who wants to live!

I mentioned earlier that I would come back to Kanna's feelings on the "competition" between Sou and Sara for her affections. Because Sara resembles Kugie physically, everyone believes that Kanna would choose Sara over Sou. Kanna even says that Sara is "the person she most wants to live." That is Kanna's emotional appeal to save Sara from being voted as a candidate. In the event that Kanna dies, Keiji rubs Kanna’s words in Sou's face at the beginning of Chapter 3, leaving Sou desolate.

But it's important to note that Kanna's choice was always to save both Sara and Sou. To say that she would abandon Sou discredits what actually happened. After Kanna makes an emotional appeal to save Sara's life, she shrewdly makes a logical appeal to save Sou's life. And when Sou tries to direct the votes to Kanna, thinking she has the Sacrifice card, Kanna easily thwarts his efforts by simply telling the truth. Kanna was the only character who chose to be honest about the Sacrifice Card, because she never intended to let anyone else die for her.

Kanna's choice was to reject the “competition” outright. She doesn't even take it seriously. Her reasons for taking the Sacrifice card were twofold: to save Sara's life, and to save Sou's soul. It's never a real question for her which person she values more. She would have died for them both.

This matters because Sou doesn't parallel Kugie in such an obvious way like Sara does, but the parallel is still there. It's subtle enough that Sou can't even see it. He never feels confident in Kanna's affection, which is why he ordered her, "Kanna. / Don’t you betray me." He can't see what's right in front of him: that Kanna cares about him as though he were her own brother.

In contrast, Sara feels self-conscious about the comparisons people draw between Kugie and herself. She always feels awkward about it. She is fully aware that Kugie was her own person, and Sara can only pretend to understand what she was like. I really like the way that the manga treated this issue. Although the manga cuts out many of the excellent character moments from the game, it adds more focus on Kugie.

Sara thinks to herself, "I don't know...how many regrets that person had..." which neatly foreshadows that Kugie would have regretted bullying Kanna. Speaking of regrets also reminds me of Sou, who--in the route where he dies--regrets not trusting everyone sooner.

I wanted to end this piece on a happy note, so I'll just say that I like to imagine that Sou and Kugie would have gotten along! Maybe they would even be able to see through each other's masks and help each other. They could work together to protect Kanna, and the Player could choose whether Sara joins them.

#yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #sou hiyori #kanna kizuchi #shin tsukimi #sara chidouin #kugie kizuchi #sou and kanna #sara and kanna #kizuchi sisters #sou and sara #mine #meta #my meta #your turn to die spoilers

389 notes · View notes

taking-over-his-life · 3 years

Text

The old shop

Written by my old friend Colt.

On a bright autumn day, when the low angle of the sun, the sudden warmth of Indian summer, and the riot of scarlet and yellow leaves all cast a spell over the Virginia countryside, I set off for a drive, with the car windows rolled down. Intense glare alternated with deep shadow, as the road wound through fields and woods. It led to a town called Hapsburg, where it became Main Street, nearly deserted on Saturday afternoon. I parked along the sidewalk, and got out to stretch my legs.

The buildings were of red brick or painted clapboard, one or two stories. Shop windows were empty, or contained faded posters, long out of date. I walked past a café, a drugstore, a lawyer's office, and a barbershop, all closed. Next came a shop that sold old furniture, chipped plates, sentimental pictures, obsolete farm tools—the debris of former households, past lives.

In the display window, draped over the back of a chair, as though the wearer left it there minutes ago, and would soon reclaim it, was a black leather jacket. Creased and scuffed, it had evidently seen hard use. So casually was it thrown on the wooden chair—was it also for sale? I tried the latch, and the ancient shop door opened. A bell jingled sharply overhead, as I stepped inside.

A pale, thin man seated behind a counter barely looked up from his newspaper. His eyes were watery blue or gray, and his hair was sparse, showing the scalp. I pretended to look at a dusty shelf of books, then wandered to the back of the shop, which seemed to have nothing of value. At last, I returned to the front. Except for the man at the counter, there was no one else.

The black leather jacket was compelling. I touched a sleeve—the leather was thick and heavy. I searched for a tag, a price, a label, but found nothing. On the shoulder, a red patch bore the legend: "Hapsburg Motor Patrol." "Go ahead," the man said. His voice was unexpectedly clear and strong, despite his age. "Try it on. You'll be the first, since it just came in. Who knows, this may be your lucky day."

I slipped my arms into the sleeves, shrugged the weight of the leather over my back, and tried the zipper, which worked smoothly.

"A perfect fit," the man said, "like it was custom-made for you. There's a mirror, if you don't believe me."

It was uncanny, but the old leather jacket did fit perfectly. Stiff yet pliable, it was already molded to my shape, broken in by the previous owner.

"Whoever wore it must have had exactly the same upper body size," the man said.

"So you don't know who owned it?" I asked. "Anything about him?"

"Not a clue."

"What about the patches? Will I be arrested for impersonating a police officer?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. The town police department disbanded years ago, when the county took over everything—schools, taxes, roads, jail. The county police wear a different uniform, not that red patch. As it stands now, that jacket is a collector's item, a genuine Hapsburg Motor Patrol issue. Quality leather—they don't make them like that any more. The badge is missing, of course. It went in that reinforced hole in the chest."

The leather creaked, as I flexed my arms and walked to and fro. I inhabited the jacket, inhaled the smell of leather, and felt slightly giddy.

"There's plenty of wear left in that jacket. It will keep you warm on the road, and protect you in case of a spill. When you're riding, that is. Yes, sir, it fits you like a glove."

"How much do you want for it?" I asked, trying not to sound desperate.

"That depends on how much you want it," he answered, suddenly shrewd. His pale eyes glittered in the shadowy interior.

Though I detest haggling, I was unable to take off the jacket. I named a price, a round number, which I hoped was low. To my surprise, the man instantly agreed.

"Sold!" he shouted, as though at an auction.

I reached for my wallet, anxious to complete the transaction before he changed his mind, or before I did.

"Like I said, that leather jacket was meant for you. What are the odds that someone would walk in here, exactly the right build, with an eye for police memorabilia?"

"So you don't know where it came from?"

"Sorry, my friend. It could have been someone cleaning out an attic, getting a house ready for sale, winding up an estate. Wait! Now that you mention it, some other things came in with the jacket. Here's a helmet, the standard police type."

He handed me a white helmet, and I lowered it over my head. Snug, but comfortable. I started to ask the price, but he cut in.

"At no additional cost—special today. And check out these beauties." He rummaged behind the counter, and produced a pair of black leather riding boots.

"Somewhat the worse for wear, but you can replace the heels, and shine them up like new. Here, try them on."

Hurriedly, I untied my shoes, and shoved my feet into the tall boots, folding my pants inside the cylindrical shaft. Amazingly, the boots fit. I wiggled my toes, rocked from side to side, and strode a few paces. Like the jacket, the boots felt eerily right, as though I had worn them for years. Looking in the mirror, I caught my breath.

Instead of the man who entered the shop, an ordinary citizen like millions of others, I saw a police officer, a motorcycle cop, a figure of speed and power, a member of an elite squad, albeit from decades before. The fantasy was exhilarating.

"Do you want a bag?"

Abruptly, I remembered where I was, in a dusty junk shop, in a forgotten country town. I took off the helmet.

"No bag, thanks. I'll wear it."

"What about your shoes?"

"Oh. . . yes."

I handed the man my shoes, which he dropped into a crumpled paper bag. He handed the bag back to me, with a wink of his gray eye.

Jacketed and booted, as though dressed for a costume ball, I exited the shop, and blinked in the dazzling sunlight. The air was growing cooler, and the sun would soon set. With the helmet under one leather sleeve, and clutching the paper bag, I strode to my car for the drive home, through the inflamed countryside.

In the following weeks, as the weather turned cold and windy, I sometimes wore the leather jacket. As promised, the thick, back skin kept me warm. It did not attract attention, other than a smile or nod of approval. The thrill I felt on first putting it on mellowed, and in a way, I grew into the jacket.

One day, it occurred to me to search the pockets. An inner zipper revealed a small black and white photograph of a man standing beside a motorcycle. He appeared to wear the same jacket and boots, with the same white helmet on his head. He also wore a police badge, a silver star on his chest. His posture was upright and confident. The photograph bore no identification, no name or date. It was impossible to tell the man's age, or where the photograph was taken. Still, I was convinced that this was the officer who owned the items I had bought.

His uniform included a pair of riding breeches, tailored snug at the calf and flared at the thigh, almost as though inflated. It was a picturesque style, something that went out of fashion long ago. I could not recall ever seeing such a uniform on the street. In color, the riding breeches were dark, with areas of sheen. Were they made of black leather, too? I placed the photograph in a dresser drawer.

Though out of sight, the image haunted me. Who was this man, in purely physical aspects so much like me? What were his tastes, his habits, his personality? What was the police officer's story?

With no conscious intention, I began to read classified ads for used motorcycles, and I looked more closely at those I passed in the street. I wondered what type of motorcycle my officer rode. What type would a small-town police department be likely to have? When a neighbor parked a motorcycle in his front yard, a machine much like the one in the photograph, with a "For Sale" sign attached to the seat, I did not hesitate.

The neighbor, an engineer who would soon move to another city to start a new job, taught me how to ride the motorcycle, and he gave me advice on maintenance and repair. My luck continued in the form of a mild winter, which allowed me to ride on weekends, gradually learning how to handle the motorcycle on narrow roads, and in traffic. Though not especially powerful, it was quick and responsive. I wore my leather jacket, boots and helmet, of course, and sturdy jeans. By spring, I had become a confident, if careful, motorcyclist.

One Saturday, as the trees were coming into leaf, and the air was newly fragrant, I set off to ride through the green landscape. I started with no destination, but the road became familiar, as it wound through fields and woods. Just as it did six months before, it led to Hapsburg. Slowly, I cruised Main Street, looking for the old shop where I had bought the leather jacket, the same one I was wearing. Not seeing it, I turned around, and rolled in the opposite direction, but still failed to find the dusty display window. I parked, pulled off my helmet, and stood in the middle of the street, baffled.

A place I did not remember, a combination art gallery and custom frame shop, hinted at economic revival. Clean, freshly painted, with a gleaming steel and glass door, it was open for business. I entered, and at once was greeted by a young man with black hair, dark brown eyes, and an eager smile. After browsing the drawings and paintings, all by local artists, I explained what I was looking for.

The young man grew solemn, and said he would be right back. He walked briskly to a storage room in back, and returned with a large envelope, which he handed to me. Scrawled on the envelope, as a kind of address, was the phrase:

"For the man in the leather jacket, when he returns."

I studied the envelope for a moment, then asked:

"How can you be sure that this is for me?"

"The junk shop you describe was here, this space. I cleaned it out, renovated, put in new lights, and so on. A lot of work, you can imagine. The previous tenant passed away, I was told, and he left the shop as you saw it. I never met him—a retired police officer. Nothing of the contents was worth saving, but I did save one thing. That envelope was lying on the counter."

I lifted the flap, and extracted something heavy and pliable, made of black leather.

"Looks like a pair of pants," said the young man, clearly interested.

"Yes," I said, "or riding breeches. I saw them in a photograph."

"Awesome! They match your jacket and boots. Want to try them on?"

"I don't need to. They're exactly my size. Don't ask how I know."

"Okay, I won't. Strange things happen, even in Hapsburg. But here's the really strange part. They told me that the old man passed away more than a year ago. So how could you have met him here last fall?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and the leather jacket creaked. I slid the breeches back in the envelope, and tucked it under my thick black sleeve.

"Thanks," I said, turning to leave. "And good luck with the shop."

#leather boots #uniform #leather gear #leather jacket

85 notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Princess 11

A/N it's short but hey shit I'm finally adding to my bigger series pieces. Enjoy and @ha-tep I know you're glad to see me working on this again after sixty years 😂

You breathe out slowly, willing the storm to slow to a mist as you wait impatiently for Bakugo to dress. Taking his time as you felt he did when he redressed your wound.

Stringing curses of how you should have healed your side instead of your calf.

"We ride Ryu above the clouds, pass over the kingdom and land in a cliff's cave that leads to old tunnels." You state your plan headed to the front of the yurt as you can no longer stand the wait.

Flinging back the canvas to be taken back by the sight before you.

You had heard Ryu land just outside but to see the amount of people gathered in front of the King's yurt caused your heart to sink.

All of them dressed and armed to the teeth, fist curled over their hearts. Kirishima stands off to the side with his own men, mirroring the hand gesture as Reo stands in the center.

Holding fresh clothes while something else lies on top.

"My Wrath." They all say in unison, dipping their heads a bit. You foolishly look over your shoulder and when you see that Bakugou has not yet stepped out your blood freezes.

The Earth beneath your feet falls away as you bask in what feels like true and mutual respect. The children you had played with, their father's you ate with, their mother's you bought from all stood with bowed heads. Serious expressions as they waited for your word.

The true ruler of this land steps out, letting out a tch before smirking.

"My Fury." Another call in unison. He places a scarred hand to your lower back, lips ghosting your ear.

"If it was not clear to you before let it be clear now, Mo Chuisle. They see you as their Queen despite my word." His voice is full of mischief and pride as he looks you over. He never understood why he jumped to protect you from your Father but if it meant leading back to this, to being able to summon his dragon, to stir the hearts of his people, to have his heart beating out of his chest with just a single glare. Then he'd jump and declare war in every other life time the two of you shared, even if meant just a fleeting moment with you.

Tears prick your eyes, in your homeland you were valued at nothing more than a battering chip for a stable crown and now look how far you had come. Submerged in a culture you had little knowledge about, accepted by people who you had known for less than six months when your own Father barely saw you as a human.

"Guide us, use us as you wish, My Wrath." They look to you as the speak and you look to Bakugou, who's wearing a devilish smirk.

"They mean you Mo Chuisle. You summoned Ryu and he gave out a war call. Honor them with a task, my undying Fury." His presses his fingers further into your lower back, encouraging you to step forward. You look over the crowd again, taking in every bowed head, every fist lying over their heart. You meet a set of ruby eyes and a wide toothed grin. He nods, urging you to speak.

So you do, using their native tongue as if it were your own.

"People of the Dragon. Too long has the High King abused his power. Expanding to countries that are independent, attempting to claim lands for the sake of 'betterment' and 'unity'. The High Kingdom was formed with the intentions to protect the weak and the sick centuries ago. With each passing generation the High King's heart has blackened. High King Toben has easily forgotten the oath he took at his coronation. He is meant to protect and to serve the lower kingdoms, not exploit them. No longer am I brainwashed and no longer will I aide him in his overzealous, malicious acts. If you will allow me, I will take the throne, I will become High Queen to restore the balance that was once lost. Tonight his Wrath and I will do what Dragons do best…" Your eyes follow over the crowd once more, the mist turning into a steady rain as lightning flashes behind you, "We will burn the palace to the ground."

The crowd erupts in cheers while a rough hand pulls you close, lips pressed to your ear as scarlet eyes linger over your scar.

"As you wish High Queen."

The title sends a shiver down your spine before he slips something around your neck. A single black dragon's tooth and a black pearl that rests above it.

"Your orders my Rage." Kirishima questions over the shouts, settling the crowd down.

"For now it will just be myself and his Wrath. General Eijirou I will need you to send a ship with a small number of troops in three days to the main land. I should have things resolved by then. But in case I don't I want Reo and your most trusted soldiers to escort our people somewhere safe. To whatever location Katsuki intended next." You look to your left and the blonde nods in agreement.

"You heard your Queen. Pack and be ready for our next journey in the morrow. I will arrive when Toben lies cold." The crowd cheers as the dance into their little town.

"I'll be back. I need to speak with Kirishima for a moment about the next location." Bakugou whispers pressing a kiss to your hairline before heading towards the King of the mountains.

Now only Reo remains, eyes crinkled in a smile as he approaches. His old hands holding out a new black jumpsuit with the white fur along the collar.

"My wife enchanted it with Strength, power, vitality, and fortune."

"No fertility?" You ask with a tease, he chuckles shaking his head no.

"I told her you weren't too fond of that one." His golden eyes linger on the woven string around your neck, "The young King was right. This engagement necklace suits you better."

Your hand flies to your throat over the word engagement, Reo holds up a hand to stop you from speaking.

"I know, I know. You are going to say you are no one's Queen. But after tonight I think you know that you are our Queen. Us Dragon folk cannot be so easily swayed and we bow our heads to few. It is unheard of for us to marry outside of the mountain or Badlands. And it is an honor to have you."

He bows his head, fist over heart. The gesture floods your chest with a stinging mixture of excitement and worry, thinking back to your first day here. Reo was always kind and caring. Always willing to share with you wisdom and knowledge while everyone else bestowed glares upon you. Your body acts on it's own as you wrap your arms tightly around him.

"No, it is my honor to serve you." A tear slips out, falling down your cheek. Your stomach twists as you squeeze him harder. For some reason you cannot help but feel that this may be the last time you see Reo ever again.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #bnha au #bnha dragon au #bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine

252 notes · View notes

huearmy · 4 years

Text

Life Is Beautiful - II

Summary: You are a glass half full person, your life motto is “Life is too short to… Insert something and anything here”. During your whole life you wanted something more, and even not knowing what it is, you put yourself to find out and get it, experiencing everything brilliant that the world offers - within the measure of what is safe, of course. The curious thing is that your way of living ended up rousing the interest of two vampires. One who sees beauty in everything and loves to exist, currently working with suicide prevention; and another one who no longer sees grace in things, in that boring immortality that never ends, and only complains about the Netflix catalog all the time.

Pairing: Jimin x reader / Taehyung x reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, mature (not really a smut i guess?)…

Words: 8593.

Rating: +18

Warnings: As much as my writing is soft and light, and as these are not the main topic of the story, treated in a non-descriptive way, there are sensitive themes from the beginning of the first chapter to the end of the fic that can trigger sensitive people, like depression, suicide, addictions in general - Jimin literally works at a suicide prevention center here. SO PLEASE! Read responsibly, my intention when dealing with topics like this is always 1) dealing with them in myself, as a way of putting out part of my own healing process 2) generating identification in other people, so they can go through the difficult time a little less alone. THIS IS A STORY THAT SEES THE WORLD WITH POSITIVITY.

Chapter I - Chapter III .

Dating is a very mortal thing, very human thing. Because mortals believe in love and want it, as they live for such a little time and die so easily, they are seeking for it every time, afraid that they will never ever find this great noble sentiment, a person to call theirs, to take care and be cared of. Vampires on the other hand have no need to be afraid of these fleeting things. Most times when they have an interest in other vampires, they just act on it, whether to periodic casual encounters, ether to live an endless affection in the empty eternity, just let's move it together. It is not common for vampires to fall in love - in fact most do not even believe in the word love - so no feelings are wasted, even the most superficial ones like the carnal impulses or the need for company. That's because existence is too long and feelings are few. When it happens it is unmistakable. For mortals it is precisely the opposite. Too many feelings for a short life. This creates an irrational anxiety and fear of choosing the wrong person, someone that isn't for them, and ending up just wasting time of their ephemeral lives. That is why dates are so important, it is a test. If it is a good experience it is a sign to continue, if it is bad go to the next option.

Jimin always wanted to have such experience. He likes the romance of mortals, which takes place at a slow and smooth pace like in books and movies, and he wanted to try. He just never got interested enough in anyone to think about actually asking them out... until now. Today he has a date with you.

He ran to his closet to choose an outfit - he already had four options ready in his head, but he needed to prove it to see which one would look better. He was just so excited you said yes! He was so eager to see how you will dress up, because of course, you are already beautiful, but the idea is to try to look even more beautiful to go on a date, and imagining you doing this thinking about him makes Jimin smile until his eyes disappear in two half moons. ________________________________________________________________

Taehyung was laying upside down on his bed, lazyly throwing a ball to Yeontan chase it, again, again and again. On the old record player there was a vinyl that he bought almost a century ago, filling the air in the room with jazz. His feet bounce site to side on the rhythm of the bass and he is tempted on singing along. He couldn't - because he wouldn't even try - remember the first time he heard this song, only that it was in the first half of the twentieth century and he probably met the singer personally, since he loved going to the shows. In his almost four hundred years of existence, this was one of the times when he was happier, different from now. He chased after the pretty girls, made them feel like princesses with the polite and gallant way he talks, kissed their red painted lips and drank the red from their necks... And then made them forget about him so they wouldn't have nightmares about his fangs and red eyes. He also had fun with the young men who went out to party and accepted anyone who wanted to party with them with hugs and high laughter, but it was not so good to drink from them, because alcohol changes the taste of blood too much... Still it was fun though.

Now none of that is interesting. And he doesn't even know why. He also doesn't know why he feels so angry all the time. But he feels. He gets irritated when he sees Jimin being happy and excited as always while he doesn't even want to move, and then he feels guilty because it's not like he wants Jimin to stop being like that. It's just... It seems that at any moment he will be alone forever. Taehyung slowly got up and lined up his silk pajamas looking at himself in the full length mirror. Even though he feels empty and purposeless he is elegant. He headed to Jimin's room. His intention was to apologize for being rude but he forgot it at the moment he stepped inside the door. "What is it all?" He looked to the mess of clothes and shoes around the bedroom.

Jimin ran out the closet with a hoodie in one hand and a suit on the other and not using any pants. His eyes were anxious.

"I don't know what to wear! I want to look good but don't want to overdress..." He whined in front of the mirror. "None of my initial ideas seemed right when I tried..."

Taehyung made a face, trying to remember what day of week was. "I thought you didn't have work today..." Tae found an empty bed space to sit on.

"I don't..." Jimin turned to him with a bright smile that almost blinded him. "Today I'm going out with a girl! I have a date!" And there it was again. That pain of feeling Jimin slowly slipping away. He is the only one Taehyung really got attached to after so much time, the only one he wanted to stay forever... But the feeling doesn't seem reciprocal anymore. "A girl? Who is it?" Tae asked, trying to swallow the sour taste on his mouth. He was there to apologize, not to smash Jimin's smile once more.

"Y/N. She works with me, and she's very sweet. I think you would like her if you meet her." Jimin dreamly said, hands dropping the clothes he was holding. "Why do you think that?" Tae got along.

Jimin sighed, thinking of you, trying to put you in one or a few words. It was hard.

"I don't know... I identify with her." He approached Tae, taking his face on his cute hands. "She is like me." Taehyung closed his eyes, and the image of some bubbly cute girl in love with live, appreciating little things, formed in his mind, and then this cute girl replaced him in Jimin's heart. He already hates her. Hates you. He harshly sighed. "If you want to look unpretentious, modest, choose jeans. A pair that values your beautiful legs." Taehyung recommended calmly. Jimin smiled and ran back to the closet. "Button-up shirt, one that looks casual but still shows that you care." Jimin searched through the closet looking for something that matched Taehyung description, seconds later he came back with a white shirt with a mandarin collar and short sleeves, slightly oversized, and ripped jeans that hugged his tights nicely. "What else?" He asked, already feeling more confident.

"Any of your shoes should look good, I think... And it's raining, so you need a leather jacket."

At the end Jimin was perfect, with his hands full of rings, hair fixed showing his forehead, and using an expensive perfume, but in fact he is always perfect. Carefully he put all his clothes back in the closet, so as not to have to tidy up the room when he gets back, and even to control the anxiety a little since he got ready too early. When he finished Tae was no longer in the room waiting for him.

"Taetae?" Jimin knocked on Taehyung's door, even if it was open.

Tae was back on his previous position on his bed, head hanging off the edge. He didn't look back at Jimin's direction, keeping his eyes close as if he was just enjoying the song playing on the old record player. He wasn't at all. "Hm?"

"Thank you." Jimin softly said, sitting beside him.

Taehyung slowly opened one eye, lazyly humming again.

"You welcome, you looked lost." He unconsciously took Jimin's hand, interviewing their fingers. "I thought you were already leaving."

Jimin shook his head, chuckling to himself.

"I got carried away with my enthusiasm. I only need to pick up Y/N in an hour and twenty six minutes."

"Silly you."Tae mumbled.

"Yeah... Silly Jiminie." He was dreamly, looking to nowhere specific. After a moment without conversation, they made eye contact. "You went to my room to say something. What was it?"

A pout formed on Taehyung lips.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin answered with a soft grin, using his free hand to affectionately mess Tahyung's hair. After so much time together it gets easier to solve conflicts, it is possible to see how simple it is to ask for forgiveness. This makes immortality much more enjoyable. They both knew they were fine. _______________________________________________________________

You said bye to your roommate, and she wished you luck, saying for the hundred time that you are beautiful - she hadn't seen you this excited to a date before. In the cold, empty corridor of your building, still in front of your apartment door, you checked if your keys, wallet and cell phone really were in your little lap-bag - which sadly you hardly use because your heavy books, lunchboxes and other everyday things don't fit in it. You took a deep breath and put your hair behind your ear with a slightly shaking hand, feeling the stomach full of those silly butterflies, just for thinking that Jimin was already down there waiting for you. It was raining so much now that even though it was late afternoon the sky was dark as if it were already night. When you opened the front door, the cold air caught you off guard, it was cold enough to make you shiver, even if you were wearing a jacket and wool pantyhose. Jimin came up the stairs to you with a big umbrella in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face.

"I swear where we are going is pretty warm inside." He said, giving you space to go under the umbrella with him. "You look cute by the way. Beautiful actually."

Your face heated as you hooked your arms together, a grin in your lips.

"You don't look bad yourself."

If Jimin had any blood circulating in his veins he would blush too. Thank you, Tae. He thought.

"I was afraid you would give up on going out today, because of the weather..." Jimin expressed, really relieved that you didn't.

"I never miss an opportunity to have a good time. Just rain can't stop me... maybe a tornado..." You jocked.

"Thank god I saw nothing about tornadoes in the weather."

You laughed, and you were about to answer something but Jimin stopped, and you shut up when you saw him opening the door of a sporting car, and even if you don't know anything about cars to the point of not even knowing what brand it was, you sure could say it was expensive. Your broke ass was freaking out.

"Is this your car?" You couldn't keep the words from coming out of your mouth. Jimin just smirked, thinking it was cute.

"Miss?" He motioned for you to come in, and when you were comfortable in the leather seat he closed the door for you. One second later he was getting in himself.

He took his time to put on his seat belt, so he could look at you whole again. You two have never been in such a small enclosed space before, so now, even with the other smells, like rain outside and the leather of the seats, he could smell you a lot better. And it was good. Everything about you was cute, even the pulse of your blood in the artery in your beautiful neck. He could just look at you forever, but it would make you uncomfortable, probably, and that's definitely not the idea of this date. "You are using transparent rain boots." He stated, noticing it now.

"Ah... Yeah. I didn't want to wet up my feet." You slightly freaked. The only other pair of shoes you have to rain days is way old and ugly - the pair of hiking boots you use almost everyday to college and work - so you opted for yout transparent rain boots and cute socks.The result was not very fashionable, but you didn't have much else to do other than to hope it would look cute or at least talk a little about your personality. "I like to use socks that match my mood, even if people can't see."

Jimin hummed, analyzing the yellow socks in your feet. A happy color.

"I see." He smiled. "I guess you never use black socks then."

You looked at him, really serious.

"Those are for final exam days."

He laughed. You like to make him laugh.

"And what's the meaning of yellow socks?" Jimin asked, really expectant of your explanation.

"If I'm still in such a mood at the end of the night, I'll tell you." You smirked.

"Ok."

He took you to a fancy cafe, just like his car, the moment you went through the door you knew the money you brought with you wasn't enough, the whole place with the marble floor and vintage decor in a level totally different from the simple cafe in front of the train station that you usually buy your coffee before work. There weren't many people, most likely because of the rain. With a hand in the small of your back, Jimin walked you to a table, and pulled a chair for you. Your eyes were sparkling as you looked around, to the fancy illumination set, to the plants adorning the wall behind you, to the beautiful girl in a beautiful dress some tables from yours.

"We always drink coffee in a not so nice place in a not so nice situation, so I wanted to change it a little bit." Jimin seated beside you.

"Is a nice change indeed." You gave him a sweet smile.

"But if you think it's too boring, just tell me, I am not attached to plans." He jocked, but with truth behind it.

You thought for a second. "What if I say I want to go to a climbing gym?"

"First I would say that my shoes are not good for this activity, nor your dress... But, why not?" His response made you smile and your heart skipped a bit.

"I'll think of a more suitable activity for our outfits then."

Seconds later, a waitress came to your table with a notepad in hand and a cordial smile on her face. She was using the black uniform with a colorful apron on her waist, and a vintage eyeliner, you thought she was also nice looking, just like the rest of the place and people around you.

"Already know what you will want?" She asked, looking between you and Jimin.

"Ah! I haven't looked at the menu yet! Just a moment." You reached the cute booklet beside the flower pot in front of you. As you guessed before, the prices were a little more than you had planned to spend, making your stomach flip. Jimin rested his elbows on the table.

"I want an espresso, the small one, please." He cheekly smiled. "And she..." He stopped himself. He could bet what you would want, based on the kind of coffee you always buy to yourself, and your feed on instagram, but asking you directly was better, but most important: girls in this century can make their own order themselves. So he would just wait for you to talk. But you didn't say anything right away, you were nervously staring at the menu in your hands instead.

You were calculating. If you took the cheapest coffee among the expensive ones, which should certainly be a delight, you would not be a miser, and there would be extra money left for emergencies which is always good. But you could also buy a cheaper coffee and a cookie maybe. But a piece of pie would be so good too, there were some really beautiful ones in the showcase, but to also drink something would take all your money at once...

"Strawberry Mocha Latte, please." You ordered, wishing to not regret it.

Jimin, who was watching you closely during the few seconds you got to make a decision, saw how you longered a little more on the pies and cakes page, and the quick looks you sent to the showcase, humed.

"Thinking better... I'm up to something sweet too. Can you please tell me what flavor is that brown pie, with the white thing running down the sides?" He asked the waitress, chin on his hand.

"Sure. That's Cocoa Pie. It tastes like hot chocolate, the white thing is melted marshmallow." She explained.

Jimin heard your heart speeding up and then you gulped.

"I want a slice of it, please." He smiled at the waitress one last time.

"Anything else?" She asked.

"No." Both of you answered together.

Jimin had eyes only in you once again.

"Well, you were talking about college." He signaled for you to continue the previous conversation you were having on the car.

"Oh... yeah. College..." You couldn't remember the last thing you were telling him. Jimin lightly passed his index finger through your forehead, to undo a frown you didn't notice you were making.

"You were saying you didn't know exactly what you wanted to study." He took advantage of the proximity to put your hair behind your ear.

"Right. I always dreamed of things like being president, firefighter, astronaut and superhero. Something helpful." You laughed, especially because Jimin was laughing imagining you doing such things. "So I signed up for psychology when vacancies were opened for classes and I started working at the center as complementary hours... and it has been incredible."

"You don't sound like you have found what is your dream." Jimin commented.

You shrugged, playing with the sleeve of your dress. "It's because I didn't. I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I can't just sit down and think about it, so I started from somewhere. Going to college, or whatever, later would be a waste of time. Life is too short. You understand me?"

Not really. Imortallity and such. But Jimin could have some empathy. "Tell me more."

You sighed.

"Mom says I always have been different... My siblings are really chill. Dad supports me in any decision I make since ever, even the dumbest ones. I'm blessed, because for them I can be anything I want. I just don't know what it is. I feel that I can't disappoint them and waste all their money trying to discover myself. I need to at least get a degree in the process." You ended your speech with a dismissing laugh, as if it wasn't your biggest intern issue. "But I'm talking too much about myself... Your turn."

"It's not a problem, I can hear about you all day." He just flirted. "But well. My first degree was in law, I wanted to know how things work. Then I studied history, because I have a certain... intimacy with it. Basically everything I study is because I like it or am curious about it. I love taking courses on the internet too."

You were a little shocked. You didn't exactly know Jimin's age, but he looks at most two or three years older than you, and he already has two degrees? Rich kids really live in another world.

"Your family must be so proud of you." You said, stunned.

"I don't have family." Jimin simply responded.

In one second you were freaking out.

"I'm so, so sorry... I didn't mean to touch a delicate subject. Sorry." You reached both hands to his arm which was resting on the table, hoping you didn't ruin everything offending him or making him feel sad.

Jimin let a light chuckle out, putting his other hand above yours.

"It's ok. You couldn't know. Besides, it is not that delicate of a subject." He smiled, trying to make you relax. "I have been alone since I remember, since ever. No mom or dad. Just me. At some point I met this guy and he proposed to be my tutor, he adopted me, and it was the closest thing to a father figure that I ever had. And I'm sure parents aren't... that way." Jimin's eyes got dark for a second, but before you could say anything, he smiled again, brighter than before. "Now it's me and my friend Taehyung."

He said the name Taehyung with so much affection and fondness, that you almost heard him completing with "And he is my family", and in fact that was the feeling hiding in Jimin's words everytime he needs to talk about his friend to someone.

"Everytime you talk about this friend of yours I feel like meeting him. He must be so nice."

Jimin's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"I think he will love you. If you like it, I can invite you for lunch or something like that." His hand tightened on yours.

Was it a cue to a kind of second date already? Your face heated up.

"I would love to."

Your orders arrived, Jimin needed to let go of your hands, and you from his arm. As expected, your coffee was divine, creamy, warm and sweet in the right measure, warming you up inside and making your tongue melt with satisfaction, that your heart even hurt less at the price you would pay for it. Jimin got the tiniest bite of the cocoa pie and hummed in delight, catching your attention. Vampires have no problem eating human food, but it's not like it's very satisfying, the acting was to make you look at him with puppy eyes. And it worked.

"Y/N, you need to taste it. Here." He filled the spoon with a piece way bigger than he ate himself and reached it out in front of your mouth.

You wanted it so bad you didn't even think how he feeding you could be embarrassing, you just ate it. No regrets.

"It really tastes like hot chocolate." You said with doe eyes.

As you talked, he made you eat the whole slice yourself without noticing it. You were just so happy, having a good time with a nice, handsome guy you crush on, and a cute delicious meal, in a conceitual, beautiful place. If life wasn't so short, you would like to do it forever.

"Hmmm, Jimin?" You said, mouth slightly full. "How Escape Room sounds to you?"

He smiled widely.

"Sounds like a good new plan."

________________________________________________________________

You're a masochist, Jimin came to that conclusion after fifteen minutes of escape room adventure. First of all you chose a suspense and horror story to play, which surprised him a little but didn't make him think much about it. It turns out that in addition to the tense story where you need to find out where the main character's body was hidden in order to get out, an actor dressed as a masked serial killer appears from time to time to scare and chase you with a fake knife. Jimin is not really scared, since his improved hearing and smells make him notice the presence of the actor before the jump scare, but you... As much as you are smart to find the clues and connect the facts, you are a scared cat. Every time you give a loud scream that gradually becomes a nervous laugh, grab his hand and run away pulling him with you, clearly enjoying yourself. He could hear your heart racing and smell the adrenaline and endorphin running through your blood. "We need to go back to the library... Do you think he is there?" You shout whispered, one hand still holding tightly on his, and in the other you were analyzing the clues you already had.

The heat in your face from running and your slightly lack of air just made you look cuter, Humans are so fragile and precious.

"He isn't, we can go back." Jimin whispered back.

"How do you know?" You tried to peek around the corner of the corridor.

"I saw him going to the other side as we ran." He lied, actually he could hear the actor's breathing behind a door on the way to the library. Probably both of you would run again, and that's ok to Jimin, so he can put himself between you anthe guy protectively and see if you'll look at him the same as the first time he did. Before the time goes out, you solved the mystery with almost any help from Jimin, who was too busy paying attention to you and your focused expression, and needing to ask for a hint just one time. You were euphoric and proud as you both walked out the room, bragging about your brain, and also pouting about how sad the story actually was and how that freak neon mask of the killer was spooky. You were so distracted talking about how much fun you got that you didn't see when Jimin paid for the game without splitting the bill. You had previously agreed that even if you didn't have the money to pay half of it, you would help. That was not fair.

You decided not to complain. "All this running made me hungry!" You said as you two walked over to his car. It wasn't raining anymore, the night sky slowly starting to show up as the clouds moved away with the wind which was still strong and chilling. Seeing you close your jacket better, Jimin put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. With a vampire's body temperature he wouldn't be able to warm you at all, but at least he could shieldering you from the wind... And you still thought the caring act was the cutest thing. You also put an arm around his waist. "Are you hungry too?" Nope. Jimin doesn't even remember how the feeling of hunger is, the bloodlust is too different to compare, besides, what for you was physical effort, for him it didn't even come close to being tiring. But he got along with it. If you had any more ideas that postponed him taking you home and saying goodbye for the night, he would accept it. "Ah... Sure." For the third time in the night he opened the door for you. "Why?" You took your place in the passenger seat and searched for something in your purse, taking it out all smiling when you found it. Ten pieces of colored paper. Coupons. "Chinese food. The discount is bigger if ordered to go." You sang. Coupons are your treasure. When Jimin thinks you can't get any cuter... ______________________________________________________________

In order not to risk spilling any type of sauce on the leather of Jimin's expensive car seat, you insisted on going to eat at your apartment, since it was not far from the Chinese restaurant. Jimin was uncertain at first, but you ensured that two of your roommates were traveling and that the other doesn't sleep early and wouldn't mind you hanging out in the living room as long as you don't make a lot of noise. The question was not whether he was going to bother your roommate or not, Jimin is a gentleman, he would never do anything to offend someone inside their own home, the question is whether he could get you to invite him in with all the words - the last thing he wanted to do was end your date bursting into ashes for entering without being properly invited and you having to vacuum him off your carpet. It would be a really sad and stupid way of dying. He nervously insisted on carrying all the bags and followed you upstairs - the elevator was broken - and down the cold corridor from your floor to your door. You opened your purse to get your heavy set of keys - your father always said that the more keys you need to carry the greater number of responsibilities you have, and for some reason that makes you internally proud of yourself - searching for the right one to open the door. Jimin cleared his throat. "Y/N... I really don't want to bother..." He said, and you looked at him with doe eyes. He put the bags on the floor to keep his hands free to hold yours. Before you could object, he continued. "I had a lot of fun with you today, and I think we got to the part I say bye the right way... You know, walking you to your door and them kissing you... Maybe?"

Like in the movies, he thought. Your heart scaped one... no... a lot of beats. He was holding both your hands, and looking right to your eyes, and talking about kissing you. Still you pouted, and he knew you would fight him on it, of course you would, but you did more than this, getting him by surprise. You reduced the space between you and pecked his lips, one of Jimin's hands went up to cup your face and try to kiss you more, but you pulled back with a frown.

"Done. You walked me to my door and kissed me." You were looking at his eyes as intensely as he was looking at yours. "But you said you were hangry and I bought all this food for us, so you are not going home yet."

You used your emergency money and coupons that you took a long time to collect just to be able to spend more time with him, and you wouldn't miss it for anything. Jimin smiled till his eyes disappeared.

"Do you want me to get in so we can spend more time together?" He asked as if he could read your mind, but it was just because it was what he wanted too.

"Yeah." You nodded, feeling kind of weird for admitting it.

"Say it..." Jimin insisted, eyes so intense you could think he was hypnotizing you. He wasn't, he would never do that to you.

"I want you to get in so we can hang out a little more..." You said, voice small.

"Invite me formally then." He openly asked.

It confused you, you thought it was funny, a chuckle escaping your lips. In your head you were sure that Jimin should read fanfic or something like that to be so good at being cliché. You pulled back and opened the door, stepping aside. "Please come in, Jimin." You smirked to him as he picked the bags from the door and obliged.

He didn't turn into ashes. You closed the door behind him and picked his jacket, kicking your boots. He followed you close to the kitchen, where he dropped the bags on the table.

"Hmmm. You can make yourself comfortable, I'll just say to my roommate that I'm home and brought food. I'll be back in a sec."

You run in your tiptoes down the hall, as Jimin already knew the apartment was empty when you arrived. He opened the cabinets and drawers, looking for plates and cutlery, before you came back he would have prepared the table for you two - or just you really - to eat. He got it done and you didn't come back, so he explored. The kitchen had little of your smell in it, a sign that you spend little time in it, which is okay, Jimin's kitchen is not his favorite part of the house either. In the living room you were more present, he found where your smell was stronger, your favorite place to take naps and marathon series, the recliner. It looked really comfortable, so he could understand. He walked silently down the hall and found your bedroom door, the door was open and you weren't there, but of course, as much as he was curious about you and your most personal place, he wasn't going to enter without permission, just looking quickly the stuffed animals at the head of your messy bed before heading back to the living room was enough for now.

In the meantime, you were leaning against the closed door of your roommate's room, which should have been at home, as you left her before you left, but she wasn't. Staring at your phone screen with your face burning you took a deep breath. She texted you earlier, yet you were having fun so you didn't see it before. It makes no difference, she just put even more ideas in your head and embarrassment in your face. Cutiehoe: i got to my babe's place

Cutiehoe: so u can get laid if you want booboo

Cutiehoe: nntr

Cutiehoe: tell me later hf

You didn't think of inviting Jimin to do anything more than eat. It wasn't your intention. But now you are thinking about it. A lot. You considered running to the bathroom to cool off a little, but on second thought, you left the boy alone for too long, he must be feeling awkward waiting for you. So you got back to him, who was actually very comfy in your recliner, reading the book you left there earlier. He did make himself comfortable - it isn't hard to a vampire at all.

"I set the table." He smiled, closing the book.

"Did you?" You looked to the kitchen table in surprise. "Ah, it wasn't necessary... I was planning on eating here, so we can watch a movie or something... And eat from the boxes so I won't need to wash the dishes later..."

You were afraid the talk would die at some point and that it would be awkward, so the movie or whatever would be an emergency escape or something, you use this tactic for dates and making new friends since middle school.

"That's good for me too." He crossed his leg, as if it wasn't his first time in your house, and you don't know if it relaxes you or makes you tense. "What do you want to watch? I love cliche super silly rom-coms, aaaand animal planet documentaries."

You didn't know if he was joking or not but it made you laugh anyways, you finding it funny and cute.

"You can choose..." You handed the remote to him. "I'll bring the food and a blanket to a comfier experience."

"Ok." He took the opportunity to lightly brush your fingers when he took the remote, just like in the movies, and watch you sigh shakily over it. In fact he spent all night doing these little film cliché things, most of them you didn't even notice, but little by little it was affecting you, working you up.

"Ah. " You remembered. "Any of my roommates are here, you don't need to worry about bothering."

Jimin made a face, a thinking pouting face, then smiled widely, which made his eyes disappear. "Good. I didn't like the idea of having to contain myself around you."

Everything he says sounds so flirty that sometimes you don't know how to answer, so you just laughed as if it didn't affect your now slightly horny mind and left the room again.

Food on the coffee table, blanket turning your bottom halfin a burrito, a documentary about cats lowly playing on the TV - Jimin's choice, really - you both just chatting. Jimin was marmeized on how entertained you were by the conversation, telling him about how you managed to rent your room in such a good apartment, with nice roommates, in first place, he couldn't say if the story was really interesting or if it was just you making it sound like it was. You were so focused on the conversation that you didn't even noticed he wasn't eating at all. "But is kind of sad, because I'll probably be moving out next month..." You sighed then stuffed your mouth with chicken.

"What do you mean?" Jimin frowned.

"My savings are about to end, and what I earn at the center doesn't pay my rent here. And even if they paid I still have the college to pay, I will have to go after student internships. So next month I'm going to change jobs and move to a cheaper apartment. I'm just not going back to the dorms, no sir." You shrugged.

"Have you found any promising places yet?"

"Not really. The best place I found is only good because it is pet friendly, but besides it, it is hideous." You made fun of it, but you were frustrated for real, your roommates would let you stay as long as you needed, but it wouldn't be fair. Jimin laughed and pulled you to a half hug, which you gladly accepted, laying your head on his shoulder.

"You"ll find something..." He made a thinking pout. "If it would make you happy, I have a cute dog, and you can be his friend if you want to, specially if you can't afford your own pet, you just need to pay a visit to my house sometime."

"I would love it! I love dogs! And cats! And parrots... And ferrets, I want a ferret sooo much! But I can't afford myself these days." You finished your box of food, and with a clap of your hands you looked at him with shiny eyes. "But enough of my complaints, your turn... "

"My turn?" He has a hand in your chin.

But since when that you didn't notice the touch at first?

"Yeah... You tell me a story now, or whatever, what comes to your mind first." You nervously chuckled.

"Uhum." He nodded and pulled you close to kiss you.

The soft peck you gave him earlier was still ghosting his beautiful lips, he was still wanting to deepen it. He spent the whole conversation observing you to know if you wanted it too, if he should, and all the openings you were giving him made him excited. You kissed him back, reaching his shoulders with both hands. He started the kiss at a tentative pace, and soon you took the lead in a slow and nice rate, making him remember that probably you have more experience than him on it, or at least it is more recent than the last time he kissed someone like this. Before he knows it, he is hovering above you on the couch, your arms embracing his neck, one of his hands on your waist, wishing he could take your dress out of the way to feel your skin.

"This was the only thing on my mind." He pulled back after who knows how long, lips close enough to brush against yours, forehead on yours. "Your turn. What is on your mind now, Y/N?"

So intense... You mentally cursed that you were trapped in the blanket, preventing you from embracing him with your legs too.

"A lot of things actually..." You giggled. "You know... When the universe gives me an opportunity I usually don't let it pass..."

"Uhum. I noticed." He smiled against your own smile.

"I want to take you to my bed and strip you. That's the thought." You admitted. "That's the thought." He repeated with a rusky voice that gave you goosebumps, getting up and pulling you with him. You tripped over the blanket, but he held you, connecting your lips together again, and again. "Lead the way please."

You took him by hand and went to your room. You barely passed through the door, Jimin was all over you again, arms circling your waist from behind, mouth finding its way to your neck, sweetly kissing your pulse of life, right over your artery. He had no intention of biting you, the thought didn't even cross his mind, your smell is just so good and addictive he couldn't help himself. The smell of life on you, plus the smell of who you are, now that he could feel it so closely, after experiencing your lips... He never felt that way, whether with a vampire or a mortal, but it wasn't going to be now that he was going to question the strange fire burning inside his chest.

Soon you two were making out in your bed, gradually pieces of clothes and your animal plushies dropping to the floor. More than once you imagined Jimin above you like that, one hand holding your jaw, the thumb of the other hand playing with the hem of your bra, legs entwined with yours, while you explore the skin on his bare back with your fingertips. You were feeling fulfilled. You couldn't hold your breath when he gave you several pecks, and then smiling against your mouth he devoured you again, pinching your hips playfully. Even in that position, he was still flirting with you, making you feel relaxed and safe, and it made your heart flutter, and those insistent butterflies in your stomach took off all at once.

When your bra was off, letting you in your panties only, you put a hand on Jimin's - beautiful - chest, making him stop and look at you.

"Yes?" He asked with heart eyes and a low smoky voice.

"Do you..." You struggled to focus as he was looking at you as to remember each detail of your face for eternity. He was indeed. "Do you by any chance have a condom with you?"

He internally slaps himself for not being prepared for every possible scenario resulting from your date. He didn't think about sex at all, didn't remember that mortals use condoms, or that condoms exist, so he didn't get the idea of buying such thing - it would be the first time ever. Damn! It is an important thing!

"I don't." He blinked twice.

"Oh." You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking. You don't have any either, actually you don't even remember the last time... "Ah! Two of my roommates are actually a couple, and I know they must have condoms somewhere... Can you wait a lil sec?"

You looked up at him as if you were insecure he would say no. He just chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"Of course." He got off of you, laying himself by your side.

You gave him a cutely bashful smile and hurried out the room, just in your underwear. A really beautiful sight.

Vampires do not have STDs and are totally sterile, so the need to use a condom is totally non-existent, yet, Jimin decided not to say anything about it and just use it, because he would have to expose himself too much to make the arguments make any sense, and, of course, for a matter of respect and consent. If it's important to you, then why question it? He was just hoping you would find it in your roommate's stuff, so you wouldn't change your mind on going all the way with him... Hoping that at least if you end up changing your mind you would be up for cuddles, so he could hide his face in your neck and feel you in such a way a little bit more. For him it's just as intimate, but in a different way. You came back a while later with the small colorful package and a weird look on your face - you found it in a really private drawer - to find Jimin laying on his back, facing the ceiling with eyes closed. He looked so beautiful. For a second you panicked, thinking that he could have fallen asleep, then he got up on his elbows, mischievous eyes sizing you up and down with so much interest.

"Get back here, Sweetheart." He softly talked, husky voice making your feet move before you could think about it. When you reached the bed he pulled you by the hand and in a second was above you again, hands holding you close. He chose to ask the next question in your ear. "Can we continue?"

"Yes." You took a handful of his nape hair as he attacked your neck with kisses once more.

The last underwear pieces were discarded in no time, letting just skin on skin, and the sensation of it was the only thing both of you could think clearly at the moment. You did what you've been wanting to do since you met Jimin, so much time checking him out when you believed he wasn't paying attention, and satisfactorily grabbed his ass, in response he grabbed yours too.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N." He whispered against the base of your throat. Then he made eye contact, just adoring you, and you could feel it in all your body.

Both of you held your breath together when he entered. You wanted to look away, or close your eyes, but it wasn't possible at the moment. Jimin's face brightened up and he let out a giggle. "Stop, don't laugh." You hid your face with a hand, for some reason this making you lowkay insecure.

"Sorry." He got your hand out the way and pecked your lips. "I just think you are precious."

It is strange. Vampires don't believe in love, even if it is Jimin, who seeks for it around him all the time, in movies and books, and always dreamed to experience such a thing that mortals live and die for, deep inside never really believing he would find it. But... Somehow... Now lying on your embrace, two bodies in sinc as if they were one, breathing and voices mixed, eyes fixed on each other's every response, mouths reaching one another in their own will. He was burning inside with a feeling he could only think as similar as what the imagined love is. Did he exist for so many centuries to meet you in this time? So he could see you trembling because of him, making him want to do it again and again? Not because he feels good, or because you smell and taste good, but because he adores you...

Your arms wrapped his torso, pinning him against you, bringing him closer, even if it wasn’t possible, in what you were looking for comfort in, as you were trying to regain your breath. A different smell of yours filling the air.

Breath. You need this to keep living. Actually you need a lot of things to not die. So ephemeral. At this moment, thinking of it, as he rolled his hips a few times more and kissed you passionately, you were everything in the world. Even if you are an ephemeral being. The idea of you not existing anymore in some decades, or next day, was terrifying, at the point of him considering...

"Yellow is for euphoric happiness, I use it when I don't know what to do with my own excitement." You pulled him from his thoughts, pushing his hair away from his face with a content smile on yours.

He looked at you without understanding.

"My socks. I promised to tell you my yellow mood if till the end of the night I were still feeling it." You explained.

"I see." He let himself fall beside you, still not letting you go, burying his face on your neck instead. You gladly cuddled him back, playing with hair, and felt his smile wide on your skin as you did. "Can I stay a while longer?"

"I wasn't expecting you to leave at all. Is already late." You said in the middle of a yawn.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, he could sense you falling asleep.

Then you talked again, getting away just enough to look at him.

"We need to get clean, also is healthy to pee after sex." You were already getting up from the bed at the end of the sentence. ________________________________________________________________

The morning came lazyly, with you soundly sleeping with your head on Jimin's arm and legs entangled with his, noses touching. Vampires don't exactly sleep, or they hibernate, or they just close their eyes and rest, and that's what Jimin is doing as your peaceful breathing and heartbeat lully him.

Through the curtains a beam of sunlight slowly invaded the room, as the sun began to rise outside bringing the day. Noticing this, Jimin covered his arms around you, to prevent burns, but out of curiosity he let the light reach you, until now he only saw you in the night, and wanted to know how you would be under the cover of the day. When the golden glow reached you, it was almost as if you were shining. Everything about you said loudly how alive you are, and that is charming. It made him feel slightly guilty for thinking, even for a second, about taking it away from you out of a selfish feeling of him.

Just having the opportunity of experiencing you this way should be enough to him. He shouldn't be greedy.

A tune sounded in the quiet room, making you stir and grumble, hiding in his chest, still asleep. It was Jimin's phone, ringing somewhere on the floor. Carefully he moved from you, avoiding the sunlight, and looked for it, one second later - literally - he was sitting on your desk chair, answering the call in a low tone so as to not disturb your sleep.

"Yes?" He answered, knowing it would be Tae scolding him for not being at home before dawn, but getting by surprise that it wasn't an angry Tae on the other side of the line, but a scared one.

"Jimin?! Are you coming home?" He cried.

Jimin stiffed, all alarms sounded loud in his mind.

"Tae, what's wrong?" He questioned louder.

"I'm outside, on our neighbour's porch. I can't go back inside... The sun will reach me, Jimin. I don't know what to do." He panicked. Jimin hasn't heard Taehyung speaking this fast in decades.

Without thinking more, he started to get dressed, phone still between his shoulder and ear.

"Keep on where's shadow no matter what, I'll be there soon. Don't cry ok?"

"Jimin?" Your groggy voice reached him, making him remember about your presence. You were rubbing your puffy morning eyes, but they wided when you noticed his distressed face. "What's wrong?"

How could he explain to you he needed to go and save Tae before the sun explodes him?

"My friend... Domestic accident." He stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't plan to go this early."

"Just go, your friend needs you." You smiled understandingly.

Already full dressed he came to peck your lips, a fast peck.

"I'll call you."

You smiled, planning on going back to sleep. He ran in full speed, lucky the other's buildings covered him as he reached for his car. Usually he was in favor of safe driving, but today is not a day for it, he stepped on the accelerator, making the tires sing loudly, and the world outside became some kind of a blur. If imagining that you, a mortal, someday will inevitably die hurted his chest last night, just the possibility of the rest of his existence without Taehyung was excruciating. Maybe when he got home the situation would turn out that wasn't that serious, and that was what he wanted, but maybe he would arrive to no one to save.

"Jiminie?" Tae voice sounded petrified on the line.

"Yeah? I'm here."

"Can we stay on the call till you get here?"

Taehyung was terrified. They both were. So no red light stopped Jimin this morning.

"Of course, my soulmate."

Taglist: @angrygardenerr @heystobitbeach @milktaetae95 @tangledsparkles @wlalsrkfla @minikolima @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @tangledsparkles @ireallylikeyourwriting @6always6baby6

I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! If you want to be tagged, let me know pls.

57 notes · View notes

thepencilnerd · 4 years

Text

maybe we’re just | not |meant to be

➵ absolute value [ab·so·lute val·ue] (n.) the magnitude of a quantity, irrespective of sign; the distance of a quantity from zero.

➵ pairing: min yoongi x reader

➵ This was not the first time you’d met Min Yoongi. In fact, you had encountered him throughout many of your previous lifetimes—and yet unbeknownst to either of you, fate was hard at work trying to keep you together as much as destiny was trying to pull you apart. Maybe in another life, another time, another world, another universe...

How many chances did you get until you were finally granted the opportunity be with your soulmate? Would there ever come a time when both of you could find peace in this never ending cycle of life and death—or will the two of you be at the mercy of space and time, forever swimming along the cosmos in search of one another?

➵ genre: definitely a soulmate/multiple past lives AU, love triangle, fluff, heavy angst, bit of historical fiction, modern timeline, time jumps, alternate/parallel universes

➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, fighting, blood, terminal illness, main character death

➵ word count: 15.9k

a/n: brainstormed this over the course of four hours and started writing on May 2nd :’) please have tissues

The first time you had met was at the fall festival. Each year, your parents were adamant on being the hosts and holding the gala at the palace. Your dress, tailored by your dearest friend, sparkled bright red against the warm glow of the paper lanterns that decorated the path. The festival was alive underneath a beautiful autumn sky, and the vibrant sound of the town’s laughter and jester music echoed throughout the quiet night.

As you were walking past the booth where children were bobbing for apples, there he was. You saw him first, of course. He wore a plain blue mask and a black cape, undetectable to any non-speculative passerby but you. Even behind his seemingly plain mask, your gaze met his the same moment his eyes locked onto yours.

Despite having a fully decorated mask with gemstones, gold lace, and the works to cover your entire face, his stare pierced through yours with the strength of a thousand daggers. His face didn’t ring a bell, not in the slightest—but he felt all too familiar.

You found out later that he was the son of the town’s blacksmith.

“Min Yoongi.” His name rolled off of your tongue like melted candle wax, coating every syllable with another layer of intrigue and curiosity. “Min. Yoongi. Yoongi...” You rested the tips of your fingers over your mouth while repeating each word, feeling how every small muscle twinged and produced the lovely sound that was his name.

His hand traced an invisible swirl along your skin, following the curve of your shoulder down to forearm and then to your hand. “______,” he spoke softly. You opened your eyes to see Yoongi lying parallel to you, the small distance between you no bigger than an arm’s reach away.

“______...” He spoke in an even quieter voice this time, afraid that if he said your name in vain that you would evaporate into thin air and leave him—all alone. Your name sounded like poetry as it danced across his lips.

Reaching over to him, your fingertips gently brushed over his lower lip as he continued to say your name. Even though he’d visited your chambers hours before, it paled in comparison to the intimate moment you were sharing now.

He lifted his hand up to your face carefully, brushing the soft skin of your cheek before settling on your cupid’s bow. Mirroring each others actions as you called each other’s name one after another, your voices slowed to a series of silenced murmurs as you lulled each other to sleep.

“Do you love him?”

Hidden underneath his anger, the hurt in his voice began bleeding through his words. You turned around to face him. His face was clear despite the pitch black darkness of the night, and his eyes glimmered in the moonlight.

“Do you love him?” he repeated, louder this time as he began walking toward you. The breeze was refreshing as it blew past the trees, rustling the leaves in its wake and causing his scent to surround you. Grabbing your hands, he gently cradled them in his; they were always so warm. He brought them close to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to them, the wetness of his tears trailing down the back of your hand.

You cupped his face and brought him closer to you, his hands still wrapped around yours and heartbeat so loud you could feel it thump against yours.

“No.” Your mouth felt like it was glued shut, but somehow you finally managed to speak. “No I don’t love him. I never have and I never will, Yoongi.” Each word stung more than the last.

He sniffled, biting his lip as his shoulders began shaking slightly.

“Yoongi,” you started while you held back tears of your own. “I love you so much.”

His knees buckled from beneath him as he kneeled by your feet, clutching desperately at your legs as if it were the last thing anchoring him on this earth. You felt the warmth of his tears seep through the material of your dress, breaking off another piece of your already shattered heart.

Kneeling down to comfort him, he couldn’t hold back the wash of tears after what came next. “But I have to marry him...”

You couldn’t do anything except hold him. Nothing you say would make him feel better; nothing you did would ever help him heal from the scars you gave him; nothing would ever be the same.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m sorry...” Enveloping each other in a hug so tight it seemed to shut out even the cold wind, you felt tears of your own trail down your face. He held you tighter, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and memorizing every little part of you before—

“I love you,” he said. “I love you, ______. I know he will never be able to make you happy or love you the way that I do, but I love you and I don’t care if you marry him. No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you even in death.”

You couldn’t find it in your heart to speak, knowing you would burst into a wailing mess of screams and tears, and the last thing either of you needed was to be discovered by the royal guard. You began shaking at the realization that this was really it; this was the last you’d ever see him, hold him in your arms, kiss him, touch him—be with him.

Grasping the sides of his face, you pressed your lips against his for the last time. The salt from both of your tears mixing with the taste that was entirely him felt bittersweet. “I will wait for you, Min Yoongi,” you promised. “Even if I have to find you across in life, I will find you and we’ll be happy together.”

Before sharing one last kiss, he took your hand and put it over his chest. The pronounced beating of his heart made your vision watery again. “Promise.” It wasn’t a request or a question—it really was a promise.

Blinking back your tears, you brought his free hand over your chest and held it close. “I promise.”

“Large stack of pancakes no butter or whipped cream and a hot coffee!” Gustav shouted, the small bell on the kitchen counter ringing like the telephone.

Grabbing the piping hot plate, you piled it on your forearms with the rest of your orders and hustled to get them to their tables.

“Small kid’s meal with a side of fruit salad, an old fashioned with extra bacon, and an egg-white breakfast omelette with no tomatoes,” you recited cheerily, handing out each of the plates to the family sat at their table. “Enjoy!”

Thanking you, you whizzed by table after table until your arms were colored a bright red and indented with marks from the weighty plates. It was only lunch and you were already feeling the anxiety of rush hour at the diner. You were grateful when the giant bell finally rang from the cash register, signaling your break.

“Hey ______, do you mind pouring this man a fresh cup of joe?” Marcie called over, waving to you from the opposite end of the aisle. With one hand wrapped around the phone wire and the other punching numbers into the cash register, you ran over as quickly as you could to help.

You grabbed a freshly brewed pot from the machine and poured it into the mug, still warm from being fresh out of the dishwasher. “Any cream or sugar?” you asked the man hunched over the lunch counter with newspaper in hand.

“None, thank you,” he replied curtly. “Black is fine.”

Raising your brow at the voice, you turned around and set the cup down in front of him. The newspaper was fully opened and covered the entirety of his face. Assuming it was just your brain tricking you, you tapped Marcie on the shoulder and pointed to the back door. reminding her that it was your lunch break. Shooing you away, you grinned and wiped your hands before taking off your apron.

The quick rustle of paper crumpling was the last sound you heard before you were out the door.

“What was her name?” Yoongi asked Marcie who was still on hold with the real estate brokers. He kept the newspaper half-folded in one hand.

“Huh?” she replied. “Oh! That’s ______. Been working with us for a while. Real nice gal. Sad to see her go.”

Yoongi let out a bored ‘hmph’ and drank his coffee. There was something oddly magnetizing about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “She found a new job?”

Marcie took a few more notes down with her finger held up at Yoongi, bidding him to wait. He sipped in silence.

“Yeah, she finally got that job she’d been pining for on the east coast. Where was it... some banking company or stock market businessy title, can’t remember,” she rambled. “Today’s her last day.”

After a few seconds without a response, Marcie looked up and saw the young man in a daze. “Why? Cat got your tongue?” she joked.

He shook his head, coming back to his senses. “No, nothing. I just thought I saw her somewhere.” Covering his nosy curiosity with a mutter, Yoongi ignored his accelerating pulse.

“Bad timing I guess,” Marcie sighed, sensing the disappointment in his voice.

Without a second thought, Yoongi’s fist clenched the grayscale paper as it let out a satisfying crunch. Marcie’s eyes widened at this, making him clear his throat awkwardly.

"Sorry, finger cramps,” he stuttered. “I should get back to the office.” Gathering his coat, Yoongi tossed all the spare coins he had into the tip jar and left the diner. For some reason, he didn’t feel like eating lunch there ever again.

“Happy Birthday!!” you screamed in unison with all of your friends.

The lights flickered on, revealing a stone-faced Yoongi and overexcited, freeze framed Hoseok right behind him. After a few moments of awkward silence, the delayed sound of Namjoon’s popper going off made everyone burst into laughter.

Seokjin facepalmed. “Really, Namjoon?” Jimin and Taehyung shook their heads like disappointed children scolding an adult.

Yoongi was holding back a childish grin. “Thanks guys.” Even though his reaction was sub-par than what you expected for a surprise party, you smiled.

“Let’s cut the cake!” Hoseok shouted as if he were already on a sugar high.

Turning on the stereo, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok began dancing like they were already in college. Admissions decisions were coming out next week and you all needed to relax. Luckily, Yoongi’s birthday was right around the corner and posed as the perfect opportunity to get together.

Laughing at the six boys’ and their antics, Yoongi walked over to you with a smug grin. “I told you I suck at reacting.” Popping open a bottle of mini-champagne you splurged on just for today, you handed one to him before opening your own.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, taking a drawn-out sip before continuing. “If it means we can all spend one more crazy night together, it’s worth it in my book.”

Yoongi sighed. “Why do you always talk like we’re going far away and never seeing each other again? We’re all staying in-state for tuition.” He took another swig before finishing his thought bubble. “None of us can even afford dorms, meals, or apartments anyway.”

You smiled at his seemingly naïve outlook on the situation. “Yoongi, we all know Jimin and Hoseok are already set for scholarships in NYC. Taehyung and Seokjin probably have acting gigs booked that they’re keeping a secret until the graduation, and Jungkook and Namjoon talked about how they wanted to go to Europe for a gap year.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw at the reality that washed over him like cold water. “We’ll be okay. As long as you’re staying here with me, these—” he paused to gesture at the group of boys messing around like a pack of wild animals. “—dingbats are the least of my worries.”

Your ears perked at his choice of words. “I worry you?” you asked, voice going two octaves too high for your comfort. His hand stopped mid-air while bringing the bottle to his lips, only then realizing the weight his words carried.

Clearing his throat harshly, you felt heat rise up your throat and pink dust your cheeks. It was the alcohol, right?

“We’ve been best friends for 18 years,” he defended. “Knowing how clumsy preschool you was and how stupid high school you can be, of course I’m worried about you.”

More color began rushing into your face. You chugged more of your drink to convince anyone else who’d ask you what was wrong that it was the alcohol, not your best friend’s words making you feel—no. You were friends. Best friends. Don’t blow anything out of proportion.

“Right back at you muffin man,” you winked, the alcohol giving you a bit more confidence than you usually had. Shooting you a gummy smile, you clinked your glasses together and felt the buzz flood your senses.

“Yoongi! ______!” Taehyung called from across the room. “Stay cheese!” Holding up his polaroid, the flash caught you off guard. Yoongi’s arm came up reflexively to shield your eyes, making your heart flutter even more. Note to self: expensive alcohol equals stronger alcohol.

Of course that wasn’t fucking true, not in the slightest.

Jungkook and the others groaned, chanting in unison for one more picture.

“Why not a group picture assholes?” Yoongi scoffed. “It’s my birthday so I get all the birthday wishes granted.”

Seokjin tsked. “Because you two look cute together and it’s an au naturale setting!” Giving into their relentless pleas, you wrapped your arm around Yoongi’s waist and gave the camera a goofy smile. Taken aback by your sudden physical contact, Yoongi’s heartbeat picked up at lighting speed. You could hear it through the thin fabric of his shirt.

The guys howled again. “Yoongi!” Jimin whined. “Come on! It’s just a quick picture!” Slinging his arm over your shoulder, you could’ve sworn he pulled you in closer for the shot. He rested his cheek on the top of your head and you felt his muscles pull into the gummy smile you had memorized by heart.

Taehyung snapped a picture as quickly as he could, but groaned after shaking the developed photo. “Shoot, my finger was covering part of the lens. One more, I promise!”

Yoongi let out a huff. Looking up at him, he lowered his chin and stared back at you. You never noticed how—pretty—he was until now. His eyes were more angular than you remembered, but his lips remained the same from when you were kids. He’d always pout whenever he got in trouble for playing too rough with the other guys.

You’ll never forget when he shoved Hoseok down the slide in 2nd grade and went on time out for the entire duration of lunch. Innocent 7-year old you felt bad for your best friend and snuck him the other half of your PB&J when the teacher wasn’t looking. This didn’t go unpunished of course, as you soon found yourself in the same time out corner as Yoongi. Strangely enough, you weren’t angry in the slightest.

The annoyed expression on his face slowly melted into one you struggled to map. Focused? Shocked? Surprised? Happy? Was there something smudged on your face? The edges of his lips formed into a gentle smile and he parted his lips to say—

“3, 2, 1!” the boys shouted in unison before the loud click of a camera shutter sounded again.

“God, I feel like I’m going to puke.” Your heart felt like it was going to dig itself out of your ribcage and run a marathon. “Why am I so nervous?” Fiddling with your fingers to try and calm your anxiety by shaking your hands around vigorously, Klaire grabbed you by the shoulders and looked at you with a wide eyes.

“______.” Her usually quiet voice was now firm, but still gentle. “Calm down. Breathe for me. I don’t need you hyperventilating in your dress.”

Letting out a deep breath you trapped inside your lungs for what seemed like hours, you closed your eyes and tried to steady the relentless pounding that was your heart rate.

“You’re marrying the love of your life,” she reminded. “You’re just excited.”

You gulped another welling bubble that came up your throat. No matter how many times you tried swallowing, your throat was as dry as a desert. You couldn’t drink water either because it was your mother’s wonderful idea to get a wedding dress with a corset. Talk about old fashioned, right?

“Were you this nervous for your wedding? Would you be this nervous?” The questions slipped out instinctively before you could stop them. “Like pit at the bottom of your stomach that feels like it’s ripping through your guts and weighing you down to the dark depths of hell?”

Klaire laughed at your ever-ornate vernacular that remained even when you were stressed out. “I’d be nervous if somewhere deep inside my heart, I knew he wasn’t ‘the one’.” Air-quoting the last part of her sentence, she patted the baby hairs that had been tussled during your mini fit.

The words sliced through your foggy mind like a hot knife, making your eyes widen and the color of your face wash out.

Seeing your reaction, she was quick to reassure you. “But you love him and he loves you! I promise, ______, you’re just excited. I was nervous on my wedding day!” She overemphasized her words and clasped her chest to try and be more convincing. “You’re getting married for God’s sake! It’s normal to be nervous!”

You needed to sit down. “Yeah...” A dry laugh escaped your lips. “I’m getting married.”

Three knocks sounded from the door. Turning around, you saw a familiar group of heads poke through the open crack. “Well, well, well,” the youngest smirked. “Look who it is.”

The corners of your lips curled into the biggest smile you’d mustered all day. “You guys!” Getting up, you ran over to Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi as fast as you could with the heels you had on. They brought you in for a group hug, being careful not to get tangled in your veil or snag your dress.

Klaire left the room as discreetly as she could, mentioning something about a cake or the balloons needing some double-checking.

“You look beautiful,” Jimin complimented, a genuine smile lighting up his eyes.

Seokjin had his hand clasped over his mouth, purposely overreacting to make you laugh and calm your nerves. “Who are you and what have you done with ______?”

Shaking their heads at the eldest’s incessant rapport for comedy, Yoongi refrained from elbowing his side.

“You do look really amazing, ______.” Namjoon also smiled, keeping his hands behind his back to not cause any accidents. Knowing him, it was a miracle Jimin didn’t bring cable ties with him as backup.

“Is it too late to ask you to marry me?” Hoseok chirped. Winking at you, you scoffed and shook your head, containing your laughter as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

Yoongi remained still, his eyes still scanning over your attire. Noticing how silent he was, the four cleared their throats all at once, snapping him out of his trance. Looking up and around at the guys, his eyes honed in on you.

“Yeah,” he agreed blindly. “You look—great. Stunning.”

Hoseok and the guys sensed the tension in the room. “I think we should go check up on Jungkook to see if he needs any help,” Jimin filled in. “God knows if he knows how to work a mic at his first announcer gig, right?”

The others chuckled and told you they’d see you at the reception. Giving them one more hug and bidding them goodbye, it was just you and Yoongi left in the room. Taking a seat on the couch, you ushered him over to sit beside you.

Instead, Yoongi opted to sit in the empty chair across the sofa. You couldn’t help but feel hurt by his pseudo passive aggressive decision. He seemed more quiet than usual—no, he was more quiet than usual.

“So,” he finally spoke after what seemed like a million years of silence. “Marriage.”

Biting your lip, you picked at your nails again. Klaire would kill you if she saw how much you’d ruined your manicure in the span of a few hours.

“Yeah. I’m getting married.” The words rolled off of your tongue like a foreign language, strenuous on your tongue and your heavy mind. “Your wedding is next week though, so don’t count me out,” you tried to laugh, but only succeeded in making yourself feel worse for whatever reason.

A ghost of a smile grazed Yoongi’s lips. His eyes flickered back and forth between his engagement ring and yours. “Are you excited?”

“Yes.” You answered robotically. The more you talked, the more each sentence out of your mouth felt like tar; acidic and painful, scorching your mouth raw. “Aren’t you?” you asked, referring to his engagement.

Yoongi nodded slowly, pressing his lips together and raking his teeth across his lower lip. “Of course I am,” he blurted out in a hasty tone. “Really, really excited. I can’t wait.”

Silence filled the room again. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Why did this feel so horrible? Like you’d just stabbed your best friend in the back with a dull knife?

“I’m really happy for you, ______,” he declared. “I'm really happy that you’re happy.” His eyes fluttered softly and his throat bobbed.

Another pang reverberated in your chest. “I’m really happy for you too, Yoongi.” No matter how hard you tried to sound confident, your voice was on the verge of tears. He leaned over the space between you, he placed his hands over your clasped ones and kept his eyes down.

“Please stay happy,” he pleaded, unable to meet your gaze for fear of letting you see how watery his eyes were. “Please be happy. Live a long, healthy, happy life. For me.”

Choking back your own tears, you nodded.

You managed to find the strength in your voice to speak. One last wish before saying goodbye to your youth.

“Please don’t forget about me.”

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the groom!” Jungkook announced grandly, gesturing toward the French doors at the back of the hall. The youngest really was good at everything he set out to do.

Opening the doors, your fiancé stepped out with a humble bow and waved at everyone; with his father’s wedding tux on, meticulously brushed up hair, and a single red rose pinned by his pocket square, he looked as handsome as ever.

After the clapping settled down, Jungkook continued. “And now, I would like you all to give a warm welcome to the beautiful bride!” The applause was louder than before and made your stomach feel like it weighed a thousand tons.

“Don’t let me fall?” Opening your eyes to look at Seokjin, he held your hand tightly and spoke with nothing but sincerity in his voice.

“Never.” On cue, you began walking down the aisle. It was just like the movies, except it was about a million times more terrifying since you were the one actually walking down the obscenely narrow aisle. Locking eyes with your beloved, his lips were parted in awe from the moment you stepped onto the walkway.

The soft music that echoed from the speakers flooded the auditorium and added an extra blanket of comfort. Reality kicked in and you were overcome with the feeling of sheer terror, excitement, happiness, anxiety, joy, and every emotion in between.

You were getting married.

You stared straight ahead so you wouldn’t fall and clutched onto Seokjin’s arm as tight as you could. Once you made it to the altar, Seokjin kissed your cheek and made his way back to the tables.

“Dearly beloved,” the officiant began. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this beautiful bride and groom as they proclaim their love and commitment to the world....” His voice suddenly blurred into muddled bubbles of distorted bass. It wasn’t until your gaze wandered and found Yoongi—he was already staring at you.

Pain flooded your chest again like the burning hot steel rod that was used to poke charcoal pits. Pain like that time you went to Splash City for a 7th grade field trip and fell down the water slide. You weren’t able to stand up straight, so the guys worked together to carry you back to where Miss Isles and the TA’s were sunbathing. Yoongi was crying more than you. A dull ache blossomed in your chest and spread to the tips of your fingers like ink droplets in water.

Pain.

The warm sensation of hands holding yours brought you back to the present moment. “And now—” The bellowing voice returned. “Kim Taehyung, do you take ______ to be your wife?”

Without a second of hesitation, Taehyung squeezed your hands gently and his eyes gleamed brighter than the sunset skyline. “I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?” the officiant continued.

“I do,” he repeated confidently.

Turning to you, the vows continued. “And ______, do you take Kim Taehyung to be your husband?”

No longer looking at Yoongi, your heart was flooded with the love you shared with Taehyung just long enough for you to say, “I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?”

Your eyes drifted to Yoongi for just a second before gazing at Taehyung and letting the words leave your lips.

“I do.”

The officiant smiled, blind to anything but you and Taehyung. “May the ring bearer—which to my knowledge, is the best man—bring forth the rings?”

Stepping towards the altar, Yoongi handed the velvet box to the officiant and didn’t dare to meet your eyeline.

“______ and Taehyung will now exchange rings as a symbol of love and commitment to each other,” he said for what was probably the billionth time in his entire career.

The rest of the vows passed by like a smudged blur. All you remember is hearing, “You may now kiss the bride” and Taehyung’s soft lips pressing against yours. When you pulled away, everyone was whistling, clapping, and cheering, overjoyed at the new union that was Kim Taehyung and ______, husband and wife.

Everyone except Yoongi.

He was frozen.

All he could do was put on a big smile for his best friend, happily married to the man she loved.

All he could do was hide his truth—

so that’s exactly what you did, too.

The reception was bustling with crowds of people dancing. Seeing as you didn’t recognize a handful of faces, you were pretty sure more than half of them were all co-workers Taehyung had invited.

“Okay, okay!” Jungkook’s voice sounded through the speakers, cracking the slightest bit from his energy. “It’s time for everyone to give their toasts to the wonderfully wed bride and groom!”

You tried your best not to roll your eyes by shaking your head and biting your lips. Hoseok ran to the mic first, butting Jungkook out of the way like he always did since elementary school.

“______, Taehyung—” He exhaled as he began speaking. “If there’s any couple who’s been more in love with each other since the day they met, I’d pay a million to see their faces when they see you two.” Keeping it short and sweet, a few whistles sounded from the back, causing you to blush.

Namjoon was next. “We all met ______ in kindergarten and have been best friends ever since,” he explained with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “When she’d go to the bathroom or back to the cafeteria to get an extra cookie, we all talked about who’d get to marry her during lunch. Taehyung always had it bad for ______, and dreams do come true!”

Covering your face to hide your the redness of your cheeks, you looked over to see that Taehyung was doing the same, except he was peeking through his fingers to look at you lovingly. The sound of the guests’ laughter and cheers made your heart ring in your ears. Taehyung reached over to grab your hand; the feeling of his large hand encasing yours made a wave of relief wash over you.

Jimin waltzed on right after. “Going off of that, I remember how Yoongi would always glare at us and tell us to ‘shut up’ or that ‘______ never wanted to get married and live with her cat forever.’” Everyone chuckled. “______, Taehyung, congratulations on the beautiful life you’ll share together!”

Watching everyone raise their glass into the air, you hesitated before grabbing yours and taking a mouthful.

Seokjin went after Jungkook, who insisted that he was supposed to go first as the main host. As a result, he made it his best interest to publicly roast Hoseok on the stand and earn a round of laughter from all of the guests.

You looked back to Yoongi. Some part of you secretly hoped that he waited for his turn as a “save the best for last” type of speech. He was clenching a piece of paper tight in his fist, hell-bent on making it into nothing but a wrinkled ball of smudged ink and flecks of fiber.

Right on cue, he stood up and jogged up to the stage. Jungkook handed him the mic with a confused expression, but played it off as best he could with his signature wide-toothed grin.

Yoongi turned away from the mic to clear his throat away. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to find his voice despite the deathly quiet auditorium.

“______,” he said. “I remember the first day I met you like it was yesterday. We were in kindergarten and you were the new kid who got transferred to our classroom.” He wasn’t reading off of the paper he had out earlier.

This wasn’t his plan.

“You wouldn’t stop crying, saying how you didn’t know anyone in the class and all of your friends were gone,” Yoongi said as he chuckled to himself, remembering the memory crystal clear. “I told you to stop whining because it was getting annoying, and you started crying even more.”

You remember that day. Taehyung remembers that day. As did Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Seokjin, and Jungkook. You were all in different grades, but in the same school and shared the same classroom.

“I remember feeling so bad for making you cry, I gave you the last piece of candy I had stuffed in my cubby. I saved up twenty gold stars for that.” Another soft wave of everyone’s laughter crashed against your ears. “Then in middle school, we all went to the water park for a stupid field trip. You fell down the slide and hit your head so hard, you were barely conscious.

“I carried you halfway across the park on my back. The guys were all screaming from behind me to put my flip flops on so I wouldn’t get any cuts on my feet.”

You never knew that. The week after you had the accident, Yoongi was in a cast for a month and refused to tell you why. The guys wouldn’t spill either, defending that they made a promise to Yoongi that they’d never break.

“When you agreed that going to prom would be a nightmare straight out of a 90′s rom-com,” he paused to bite back his lopsided smile. “I asked you to come with me since it would be our last cheesy high school memory with the group.

“For your birthday, we went to the botanical gardens. You went on for hours about how much you loved the roses there.” How could you forget? Yoongi pulled up to your house at 6 in the morning and told you to be out in 10. You were sleeping peacefully for the entire 5-hour drive—until he woke you up by plugging your nose and nearly suffocating you on your birthday.

Despite the growing ache in his throat, he pressed on. “I still have those pictures of you getting stung by that bee. I told you not to get too close to the flowers, but you never listened to me.”

More laughter. Not a single ounce of it came from you.

Yoongi’s voice grew quiet. “I remember talking to you right before midnight. You seemed stressed out about something...” His focus was entirely on you now. “Namjoon’s New Year’s party.”

Oh. How could you forget...

“Taehyung could not have timed his proposal more perfectly with the last clock strike.”

There it was.

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Yoongi stuttered, collecting his thoughts. “Is that I really—I’m really happy for you, ______. And you too, Taehyung.” He added the last part in with a gummy grin that you could spot as painted on from a mile away.

“I wish you a long, healthy, happy, and exciting life together. Don’t forget about the rest of us, okay? I love you, too.” He barely skipped the pause between the last two words to sound like “you two,” but his message rung loud and clear.

He loves you.

Min Yoongi loves you.

The faded edges of the polaroid felt dull against your fingertips. You spent the past hour sitting in front of the fireplace with the old pictures of you and Yoongi in your hand. You only had three; all of them were from his birthday party, senior year.

The first one was blurry, but the memory was imprinted in your head as clear as day. Yoongi’s arm shielding you from the bright flash of Taehyung’s camera in his sneak attack of a photoshoot. You didn’t notice until now how closely you were pressed against Yoongi’s side.

The second was better. Taking note of how the camera was slightly zoomed in and leaning towards you, a melancholic smile flashed your face.

"My finger was covering the lens” my ass, you recalled. Taehyung did have feelings for you, even back then.

Your arm was wrapped around Yoongi’s side and his slung over your shoulder, both of your smiling like teenage idiots at the camera, thinking about god knows what.

Finally, you studied the third one for the longest. It was the one where you two were looking at each other, frozen like marble sculptures and unbound by the limits of time. His lips were parted just as you remembered them, torturing you ever still. You wanted nothing more than for this picture to come to life and speak those words to you, whatever they may be.

But you knew that it was just an old, fingerprint stained picture that would remain silent and lifeless forever.

“Are you coming to bed, love?” Taehyung’s deep voice called from behind you. Judging by how scratchy and groggy his voice was, he was definitely on the verge of falling asleep standing up. “It’s getting late and we have lots of exploring to do tomorrow.” Even though he was exhausted, he couldn’t hide the excitement laced in his voice.

After you got engaged, the two of you immediately settled on Crema, Italy as your honeymoon destination. From the hundreds of years of history, breathtaking scenery, rich culture, and not to mention the food, the past few days here had been pure heaven.

“Coming,” you assured warmly. Sitting on the photos to keep them hidden, you told him you’d be there after putting out the fireplace. He pouted and said that the bed was cold without you, and to hurry up.

His childish antics never failed to make your heart race. After he was back in the bedroom, you took another minute to look at the pictures.

With shaky hands and tears welling in your eyes, you threw them into the burning red embers of the fireplace one by one, watching them melt; the white plastic borders of the film curled inward and turned black, crumpling into nothing but a stringy mess of fumes; the ink that marked the date of that night disintegrated into the air as puffs of smoke, marking the end of something would never be.

If you weren’t nestled into Taehyung’s chest and deafened by the sound of his steady heartbeat, you could’ve sworn you heard that piece of your heart shatter that night.

Yoongi was lying comfortably on his couch. The T.V. was on but he didn’t hear any of it. The clock read 12:41 a.m. and as per usual, he wasn’t tired in the slightest. He didn’t feel like sleeping. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t.

“Yoongi?” a sleepy voice sounded from the bedroom. “Are you coming to bed?”

Lifting his head to the bedroom door, he saw his wife sticking her head out of the door crack ever so slightly. She must’ve woken up.

“Yeah, sorry,” he apologized humbly. “Had to finish some extra paperwork.Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” Getting up to quickly kiss her forehead, Yoongi promised her that he’d be there soon.

She gave him a half-asleep grin and nestled herself back into the covers. Yoongi turned off all the apartment lights and the T.V., leaving him in utter silence and darkness. The only reason he kept them running constantly was to block out the thoughts he had of you during the day.

Opening the coffee table drawer in front of the couch, he took out the wedding album from last month. When he opened it, he was surprised to find the three pictures of you and him from his senior year birthday party scattered on the first page. You always loved throwing surprise parties despite knowing that he would never react the way you wanted him to. It was sweet.

Looking at the polaroids, Yoongi was in absorbed into the memory of that night, eyes burning from not blinking for too long. The first picture was a blurry mess, but the second and third weren’t half bad.

He remembers your smile being his favorite. You’d get that crinkle in your nose and your eyes would turn into half moons like a cartoon character. Your teeth glinted like rare pearls from the ocean’s deepest depths, but your dimples were only noticeable from up close. Your smile was absolutely contagious.

The third frame was his least favorite. It was a moment captured in time that he would never forgive himself for; the biggest regret in his life—his living nightmare.

That was the night he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend.

It was the night everything was supposed to be perfect.

But it wasn’t.

Two weeks later, Taehyung came back from the tour for his debut film and had a party of his own to celebrate.

He asked you out.

You said yes.

He swept you off of your feet and kissed you like in the movies, twirling you around to the point where you couldn’t stop laughing. You were so happy. Yoongi didn’t have the guts to throw away the photos.

The two of you hadn’t talked since his wedding. It had only been a month, but it felt like an eternity spent in hell. He missed your voice; the sound of your laughter; that face you made when you scolded him and tried to be serious but ended up breaking into snorts. He missed you.

Flipping over to the next page, he found the letter from your wedding night. It was still badly tattered from when he let his anger seep through and needed something to clench. Everyone who saw it probably thought it was his toast to you and Taehyung, but no. It was his confession letter he’d saved from the night you got engaged at that stupid New Year party.

Dear ______,

If everything goes to plan, you’ll never have to read this. On the other hand and the even greater chance that things don’t go to plan, you still won’t be able to read this. I love you, ______. I can picture your face reading this. Close your mouth or a bug might fly in again. Don’t think I forgot when we visited the zoo for our bio class. I still have the video saved on my phone. I’m probably too late, right? I don’t care. In fact, I couldn’t care less. I love you more than I love myself or anything else in this world, and I don’t care if you feel the same. I just want you to be happy. I need you to be.

I’ve felt connected to you since the first day we met and I’ve loved you more and more every day after that. No matter how hard I tell myself that you will never feel the same about me, or even think and care about me half as much as I care about you, I can’t stop thinking about you. I care about you more than you care about me, and that’s okay.

You make me so incredibly happy, I can’t put into words how deeply I feel for you. You also drive me insane and make me the angriest, most frustrated, neurotic, and saddest person to exist in this entire universe, but I don’t care because it’s all thanks to you.

I will love you until the day I die and I promise you this with my life.

Please choose me. Love me. Be with me. I know it’s pathetic and hopeless and so fucking selfish, but I love you and I can’t live without you, ______. Choose me. Stay with me. Marry me.

Always and forever yours,

—Yoongi.

And with that, he slammed the album shut and buried his face into his hands, sheer agony, anger, pain, regret, and awe flooding every cell in his body. He started laughing. Not at himself or you, not even at anything in particular.

I guess I’m just laughing at how ridiculous this whole universe is. Fate an all. He tried reasoning with himself but was far from remotely sane. It felt like some big practical joke on a hidden camera T.V. show, like this wasn’t his real life, his reality. He begged for it to be a bad dream that he would wake up from any second now. He wanted it to be a nightmare.

But he never woke up.

If you had met in another time, another life, another world—how happy could you have been? In love? Together?

The steady beeping of the hospital monitor had become your new normal. Today was different though. You sensed it in your bones. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“Yoongi, you can’t die on me. I don’t want to be alone.”

He smiled faintly, trying to reach out and soothe your streaming tears. His skin was bleach white and his usually pink lips were tinted a sickly grey. He was dying and you couldn’t do a single thing about it.

“You won’t be alone. You have all of your family and—” He was cut short by your sudden outburst.

“I don’t want my family, I want you!” you sobbed, burying your face into his hospital gown. He held back tears of his own as he felt the fabric dampen on his stomach. “You’re only 27, Yoongi, you—you don’t—”

Pressing the palms of your hands into your eye sockets, you wouldn’t have been able get any more words out even if you forced yourself to. A stabbing pain spread in your lungs from the lack of oxygen, but you didn’t care. Your boyfriend, the love of your life, was on his deathbed and you would gladly take all the misery in the world, all the needles and knives, stitches and surgeries, broken bones, bruises and blood—every single piece of it if it meant that he would live.

“You don’t deserve to die, Yoongi...” you hiccuped.

He cradled your head against his neck, his half sitting up posture allowing your tears to flow down his collarbone. The last few months had been hell, but you refused to leave his side.

Every time he’d wake up in insufferable agony in the middle of the night, you were there with anything he needed: water, a bucket, damp towel, food, his medications, a nurse—anything and everything he needed, you were always there for him.

The two of you shared the last few months you had left constantly by each other’s side. It all felt like some sick joke. Six years ago, you had met the love of your life at a random coffee shop in Seattle and hit it off like sparks. You found out he was an architect major and finishing up his senior year just like you. He asked you out four months after you kept running into each other at the coffee shop, and moved in together five months after that.

Your relationship was absolutely perfect. Never in your entire life had you met a guy, let alone a human being, who was as selfless, kind, gentle, loving, and honest as Yoongi. There was a connection between the two of you that you couldn’t describe or frame into rational thoughts; you loved each other unconditionally.

It all came crashing down when he collapsed last year. It didn’t seem like anything major. He told you it was because of his anemia, but after insisting on making a visit to the hospital, the doctors broke the news to you.

After months of seeing him doubled over in pain and puking his guts out from all the medication and relentless testing, he told you right before your 5-year anniversary: he didn’t want to suffer anymore.

It took months of convincing you that he was okay with dying for you to even be able to look into his eyes. You couldn’t hate the man you loved for choosing to die peacefully rather than be greedy to live, but you had a hard time showing your full support and being okay with it. You don’t think you’ll ever be okay with it.

“I’ve lived a happy life, _____.” Recalling the memory as if it were yesterday, his voice was much stronger back then. “I have done everything I’ve ever wanted to do, seen everything, explored everywhere, and after meeting you, I know I can die without any regrets. My only regret is not walking you down that aisle when I had the chance.”

Pressing a kiss to his chapped lips, you couldn’t stop the ache that plagued your heart at the memory. It wasn’t over until it was over, so why did it still hurt so bad?

“______?” Yoongi whispered. “You awake?” He struggled to his head to face you, every little muscle in his body aching like a collective bruise.

You shifted your weight over to your side of the bed and propped yourself up on your elbow, studying his face one more time. “Do you need anything?” Talking for the first time after hours of crying stung, like rubbing alcohol was being poured down your throat.

His shook his head at you with a half-lidded gaze and lifeless smile. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all. It’d be nice if you could cuddle me to sleep.” You bit your lip to hold back the waterworks but let your smile shine through. He was the same Min Yoongi you’d met at that random coffee shop on a rainy Seattle day.

Opening his arms, he brought you safely into his chest, arms wrapped around you as tightly as he could with the little bit of strength he had left.

“______,” he sighed, drained from all the energy he’d put into making these these past few days worth it. “I love you.” He murmured the words against your temple like a prayer, breath tickling you ever so softly like the ripples of a cherry blossom petal falling onto the surface of a pond.

You looked up and saw that his eyes were fully open, but started to flutter shut again. He was using every bit of energy to keep them open and memorize your features. Kissing him tenderly, you felt your lips tremble against his. You didn’t want his last memory of you to be one where you were bawling your eyes out. Instead, you smiled as best you could and swiped your finger across his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“I love you too, Yoongi. I love you more than anything in this entire universe we call home.” His eyelids drooped shut at your soothing lullaby, falling deeper and deeper into the comforting darkness of sleep. The weak beating of his heart grew quieter with each passing second.

“You can go to sleep, Yoongi,” you soothed while running your fingers through his thin hair. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” he mumbled through your hair with the last drop of strength he had left in his body. His breathing grew shallow and hushed. His hands that were always warm and kept you cozy during the frigid nights in your apartment were now stone cold.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as you felt his chest rise and fall for the last time.

“I promise.”

Taking in a deep breath, the cold air burned your nostrils and filled your lungs with the crisp scent of snow. “Why do you believe in soulmates?” you asked. Handing him the sandwich bag, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just seems like something that makes sense.” Tearing open the plastic pouch, he took a bite and immediately sputtered. "How do you mess up a PB&J?”

You smacked his shoulder lightly and scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that I happen to make the best sandwiches in the world, Min Yoongi!”

“Mhm,” he nodded with sarcasm and a smirk. Might you add that he was still eating his sandwich and seemed to be enjoying it.

Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you ate in silence together. It was a snow day in Manhattan and Central Park looked stunning from your dorms. It was your idea to go out for a picnic, and since it was winter break, who better to ask than your dearest friend Min Yoongi?

“I can’t believe you dragged me out here for a picnic in winter wonderland.” His voice seemed grumpy, but it was probably because you hadn’t given him any coffee yet. Point made, you rustled through your backpack and pulled out a thermos full of piping hot instant liquid gold.

With a mouthful of bread, he reached out to grab the metal thermos but you pulled it back and wagged your finger at him. “What do you say?”

“Give me my coffee,” he droned. Widening your eyes at him in disapproval, he huffed. “Please?”

You stuck out your tongue and poured him a cup. “I’d be more than happy to!”

If he rolled his eyes any harder, they would’ve fallen out of his head.

Taking a small sip, the hot steam curled in contrast with the freezing cold air.

“So you don’t believe in soulmates?” He retraced his steps back to the former topic of conversation. Turning towards him, you followed his eye-line to the small pond down the hill. A sigh parted your lips.

“If everyone had a soulmate, we wouldn’t have heartbreaks.” Your sentence caught him off guard.

“Don’t you think your soulmate is out there somewhere?” he badgered.

You shook your head and finished the last bite of your sandwich. “If he is, he should have popped up three breakups ago.”

Yoongi couldn’t think of a witty comeback.

“Do you think your girlfriend is your soulmate?” you asked this time, tweaking the question to fit his current relationship status.

“No.” The response was instant and dry, much like the coffee granules you poured this morning. “I don’t think she is. Do you think Jungkook is yours?”

You admired the trail of your breathing as it steamed up into a small cloud. “Not a chance.”

The only sound that came after was the brushing of tree branches mute thud of leaves as the fell onto the snow. If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the frozen pond crackle in the distance, melting away as the seasons began shifting for reasons beyond mortal comprehension.

The ocean of screams and thumping bass was deafening. Cupping your hands over your ears to try and stop your ear drums from bursting, nothing you did could drown out the sea of shrieking fans at a concert.

“Los Angeles!” a tall man greeted from the stage. “How are you all doing tonight?” He didn’t even need to talk to earn a shower of over-excited adolescent spirit.

Another guy who was slightly shorter in comparison brought the mic up to speak. “What do you say we start off the night with a countdown?”

“1,” another younger member started counting.

“2,” the one standing beside him said in a velvety voice.

Pointing their mics to the audience, they all counted, “1, 2, 3,” in unison and you shriveled into a ball of discomfort at the sheer volume.

“This is my favorite song!” your friend shouted as loud as she could, but to no avail.

Leaning closer to her, you shouted back, “What?!” Ushering you to look towards the stage, you didn’t know what you’d be getting yourself into when you agreed to go to a concert. You’d heard about BTS of course, who hadn’t—what you didn’t know was how your friend managed to snag two tickets in the pit. To make it even more painfully cliché, you weren’t that into their music as much as the entire world seemed to be.

You overheard a few seconds of their songs here and there while changing stations on the radio, and who could forget seeing their names plastered on every single news headline, Instagram post, and Facebook and YouTube ad that popped up into your field of view. It wasn’t that you disliked them, you just found it hard to obsess over a single group when there were hundreds of other musicians you enjoyed listening to; too many artists, not enough time.

Come to think of it, you couldn’t be bothered to keep up with celebrities or social media, period. In all honestly, it just seemed like a gigantic, disrespectful waste of time to be buried nose-deep in someone else’s personal issues and life. To each their own, of course.

The sudden change in music made you fall back in touch with reality. The melodic tune of a piano filled the entire stadium as the crowd erupted into another round of cries. Drawing your attention to the stage, a single man sat by a grand piano as his fingers danced across the wooden keys.

Call it your wild imagination or your cloudy head from the overcrowded stadium, but you swear he locked eyes with you for just a moment. He began singing, the words flowing from him like trails of ink scribbles composed of his own sorrow, joy, happiness, and his life up until this point.

He was completely mesmerizing. After the song was over, he bowed to the audience and made eye contact with you. You saw a droplet roll down his cheek as his gaze locked onto yours. He seemed to snap out of the cloud his head was swimming in and immediately stood up straight to get a better look at you. Was he crying?

Breaking his stare as an unfamiliar weight deep in your chest began to pull you down, you turned to your friend—at least, where you thought she was the last time you checked. Another song came on, this one sound like the loudest of them all.

“I have to go to the bathroom!” you tried shouting to your friend, but your voice was already gone. Not from the yelling and screaming of lyrics to songs you didn’t know, but from trying to get your friend’s periodic attention for the past half hour.

She paid no attention to you and kept dancing along with the blaring music. You were starting to feel sick. Maybe it was from swimming in a sea of overzealous crowds of people you hated on a daily level, or from the stuffy and cramped space that was nothing but suffocating—whatever it was, you needed to get out of here. You couldn’t breathe.

Saying excuse me didn’t work in this case so you had to shove past sweaty bodies a bit too aggressively for your comfort, but what choice did you have? You made it to the bathroom just in time and proceeded to puke your guts out in the only stall with a working latch.

It was official: you hated concerts with a passion and would never be coming to one any time soon. Thankfully, the queasy sensation that started earlier was now gone, but instead, it was replaced by a different feeling. Your heart started racing like a bullet train on an endless track headed nowhere. A balloon of air filled your chest cavity and made you choke on your own breathing.

Clutching your chest, your jaw clenched to fight back the urge to cry and closed your eyes tight. You started breathing like your doctor told you to whenever you started getting chest aches. In, out, in out, in out.

You hated concerts.

Yoongi was staring out the streaky window of the tour bus as rain clouds began to loom over them. The guys were quick to notice how weird he was acting towards the end of the show, like he had—

“Dude, did you see a ghost or something?” Seokjin asked with genuine concern woven in. Yoongi didn’t have any headphones in like he normally did, but he didn’t pay any attention to what any of the guys were saying. They didn’t piss him off or annoy him, he just couldn’t concentrate on anything right now. Right after his solo, he had to run to the bathroom before he puked onstage. He didn’t even eat anything a few hours before their performance, but maybe that was exactly why he got sick. Performing on an empty stomach helped combat his nerves, but he’d never had to pay the price until tonight’s show.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok prodded, poking his shoulder from far away with the selfie stick he used to livestream earlier. Better to poke the sleeping bear with a selfie stick from a safe distance than to let the bear sleep peacefully, right?

“Hm?” Finally he said something. The past two hours of silence since the show closed out was too weird, even for Yoongi. “What?”

“You okay dude?” Namjoon looked up from his phone and to his friend.

Yoongi nodded, slipping in a pair of earbuds and closing his eyes. He was exhausted and didn’t feel like answering their bound-to-be relentless questions. He wasn’t acting weird, he was just emotionally and physically spent.

They shrugged and went back to their business, leaving the grumpy one to his own devices. In reality, he didn’t have any music playing through the buds and just needed to drown out their chatter and think to himself.

He tried remembering your face in the sea of flashing cameras, light sticks, signs, glowing wrist bands, and who knows what else. Your partially agape mouth that was so utterly fixated on his performance, not the group’s. His brows knit together when trying to picture your smile, only to come to a dead end. There were too many phones shoved in his face and the swarm of people that flocked to him when he tried coming down the stage to get a closer look at you.

Yoongi grunted in frustration, but because his eyes were still closed, the boys assumed it was just another bad dream. He’d been having a lot of those these days. Taehyung refused to share a room with him when they returned home because he would always wake up to Yoongi thrashing around and screaming in his sleep. Tonight would without a doubt be no different.

Yoongi couldn’t get your face out of his mind, regardless of how hazy and unclear it was. Who were you? What was your name? Why did you come to a concert if you were only going to be there for a few minutes at a time? Why did you leave after his song? What did you think of it? Did you get home safe? After hours of divulging a plan to find out your identity, he surrendered to defeat.

It was as if the world was telling him to stay awake until he knew exactly who you were, where you were, and what you were doing at this exact moment.

He didn’t sleep at all that night.

Staring out his window, he pressed his cheek onto the cold glass and closed his eyes. The icy pane felt satisfying in contrast to his burning hot face. This time of year was Yoongi’s least favorite. Winter—the season where everything died and left nothing but freezing cold, thick, white blankets of snow.

The season you left him.

He grimaced as the memory resurfaced, fists clenching so hard his nails dug crescents into his palms. He wanted to scream but couldn’t find his voice to.

“If you want to leave, then just leave!” he yelled. Gathering the clothes littered beside the bed, he threw them across the room and landed by your feet soundlessly.

Your expression remained stone cold, gaze burning holes that glowed brighter than the sun on the angriest summer day. “Yoongi—” He was quick to cut you off.

“No, ______,” Holding his hand up, he was fuming. “If you want to leave, then leave. I don’t want you here. Just go.”

You opened your mouth to speak but it was no use. He wouldn’t listen.

“If you’re so happy with Namjoon, why don’t you just marry him?” Yoongi’s spit out with pure venom and hatred dripping from his voice. He started laughing, delirious from what he was processing. “You know what? Fuck you, ______.”

Pausing to instigate a reaction from you, you stayed mute with arms crossed over your bare chest. He was still sat in the bed and you hadn’t moved away from the door for the past five minutes he’d been venting.

“Yoongi,” you sighed, completely drained from the hours you had spent arguing with him. He couldn’t even look at you when you spoke. “We’re not dating. This wasn’t supposed to happen between us. You knew that, Yoongi—”

He started laughing even harder, hands covering his face in a manic daze. “And you expect me to believe that it he was only texting you?”

That’s all it was. Namjoon asked you earlier today and asked if you wanted to go out for coffee some time. You made the glorious decision to stay the night at Yoongi’s place and keep your phone unlocked right by the nightstand. It wasn’t long before he discovered the series of texts shared between you and Namjoon that dated back two months ago.

You’ve been sleeping with Yoongi for a little over a year now, but never made it official.

Apparently, it still warranted this kind of a reaction from him.

“We never said we were dating, Yoongi.” Reminding him of all the times he told you that he didn’t date and how he wanted to stay as fuck buddies, a darkness erupted from his eyes. “It’s been—”

“You think blaming a stupid label is what this is about?” He stood up and walked towards you, his smirk and upturned eyebrows making your blood boil.

“I found someone who actually cares about me, Yoongi.” You stood up straighter. “He doesn’t just use me for his personal gain and wants to know more about me, not just for sex or whatever the fuck we’re doing.”

“Who said I didn’t want to get to know you?” he shot back at you. “Did I say didn’t want out take you out on a date? When the fuck did I ever—”

“You did, Yoongi! You!” Raking your hands through your hair, anger didn’t even begin to describe the seething hatred that filled your veins. “You told me that this was just going to be a fuckbuddy thing. You said that you would never date because relationships were high school shit shows waiting to happen. You warned me not to fall in love with you well guess what the fuck happened genius?”

Each pronounced word you cursed at him was followed by a shove to his chest. Just as he was about to bite back, you were running on autopilot. You couldn’t take it anymore. Clutching your throat, you thought you were drowning, water flooding your lungs and rising up your throat until you were moments from being taken under.

“Do you know how many nights I spent crying myself to sleep over you?”

An odd look flashed across his face that you couldn’t piece together.

“The hours I wasted, wondering, begging, praying and wishing that you would like me back...” You felt tears well at the back of your eyes. “You never gave me a sign. You never said anything and you didn’t do anything, Yoongi, fuck—fucking hell. You never—” Taking a moment to breathe, your hand came up to shield your eyes, refusing to let him see you cry.

“You never cared about me, Yoongi.”

His expression morphed even more. “I never cared?” It was a purely rhetorical question. “I never cared? I never cared? Really?” You hung your head in defeat and picked your clothes from the floor. You didn’t need this. Not now, not ever, not anymore.

Another dry scoff came from his throat as you started dressing. “Okay, _____. I never cared. I worked my ass overtime and saved up enough money to buy you that necklace because I never cared. I drove for six hours all the way to see your performance and take you home because I didn’t care. I stayed up all night writing you that birthday card because I didn’t care. I’ve been sleeping with you for the past 18 months, letting you sleep over, making us breakfast, and spending quality time with you because I never fucking cared.”

You froze. Why was he telling you this now?

“It’s too late, Yoongi.” No it wasn’t. It was never too late. “You should’ve told me this when you had the chance.”

“What fucking difference does it make that I’m telling you this now?!” he erupted. “Let’s just fucking—” He tugged at his hair, finally feeling the exact flurry of conflicting emotions you felt. “God, ______, let’s just calm down and talk it out, okay?”

You grabbed your phone from the floor. The screen was shattered from when you threw it at the wall earlier. It almost made you chuckle. Your temper got the best of you and you ended up chucking it at the wall when Yoongi kept probing for more answers.

Why did Namjoon text you, when was this, why didn’t you tell me, what were you going to say, were you ever going to—

“We’re done, Yoongi.” Your decision rang firm and cold. As you turned the doorknob, he grabbed you by the arm and held you still, fingers digging into your skin like shingles.

“If you leave, we’re through, ______.” He deadpanned like you hadn’t just said that. “I mean it, ______. Don’t go.” Never had your own name sounded more agonizing to hear and make you feel like bile was coming up your throat.

You refused to turn away from him when your words followed, feet firmly anchored in the ground and staring through him like glass. “Goodbye, Yoongi.”

Snatching your arm out of his grip, he scoffed through his nose. His jaw was slack and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, biting his lip to the point where he nearly broke skin. This was it.

“I hate you.” You could barely make out what he said because you slammed the door on your way out. His knees buckled and he fell to the hardwood floor with a thud. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” he kept repeating to himself long after you were gone. Maybe if he said it enough times it would turn into the truth. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Yoongi cupped his hands over his ears and began rocking back and forth, continuing his mantra and willing them with all his might to become reality.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I love you,” he finally said. “I love you.”

I love you.

“BP’s dropping, set up a drip!” The resident on-call was quick to gather all the nurses and they had to work fast.

“Book an OR! We have to operate now!” he shouted at anyone who was listening, pushing the gurney down the hall and making people move out of the way like oil in water.

Each doorway burst open as the doctors and nurses rolled you down each sector of the hospital, juggling around medical jargon and ordering everyone standing idle in the aisle to “Get out of the way!”

The nurses shoving the IV needles into your arms was barely a tickle compared to the other things you were focused on. Your body hurt. It felt like everything was being crushed but none of the pain was registering in your brain because of how much it was. Your eyelids weighed a ton and it stung to even open them. It hurt to breathe. Every time you inhaled, it seemed like a knife was digging itself deeper into the side of your chest, ripping through flesh and piercing each individual bone.

“Please do something!” someone shouted, probably at the nurses. As if that would do anything...

The sound of footsteps clapped like thunder against the floor tiles, running towards you as fast as they could. “You have to save her!”

A nurse that was about two feet shorter than him, managed to hold him back with an iron grip. “I’m sorry sir, staff only. We promise we’ll do the best we can.”

This felt familiar. Nostalgic, even. Dare you say it, comforting?

“Where the hell is Yoongi?” Jungkook asked Namjoon, bright red and dripping with sweat from carrying you on his back. He swore he would never use the line, “We’re lucky we live right next to the school’s teaching hospital” as a joke ever again.

Namjoon paced back and forth while on his phone, calling everyone and telling them to get to the hospital as soon as they could. “I don’t know, he’s not answering.”

“I’m sorry, your call could not be completed—”

“Shit!” Namjoon swore and kicked one of the plastic chairs, earning a few nasty glares from the nurses and patients.

“Jungkook!” Turning around, the two saw Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok running towards them.

“What the hell happened?” the oldest asked. “Is she okay?”

Namjoon had to lean against the wall for support. His head was spinning. He couldn’t find it in himself to say anything.

“They rolled her into an operating room a few minutes ago,” Jungkook answered, voice shaking like a child’s. “We don’t know yet.”

“Taehyung’s on his way here right now,” Hoseok signed in exasperation.

Jimin asked what was on everyone’s mind. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“He’s not answering his phone.” Namjoon filled in with a bitter voice, now oddly calm. “One of you guys should call him. Maybe he’ll answer if someone he doesn’t despise calls him.”

All of a sudden, Taehyung burst through the double doors in a hoodie and sweats, running over to where the five were lined up along the wall. “Namjoon!”

Panting like he’d just run a marathon, he didn’t bother catching his breath before asking what happened. “Have they helped her yet? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t know,” Jimin replied. “They haven’t told us anything yet.”

It was unclear whether he was talking about the doctors or Namjoon and Jungkook, but Taehyung didn’t bother asking what he meant.

Jungkook asked Taehyung what Namjoon refused to. “Did you call Yoongi?”

Taehyung shook his head. “It went straight to voicemail...” Behind him, Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin were all taking turns calling Yoongi, probably blowing up his phone with hundreds of messages, voicemails, and missed calls.

He never answered.

Yoongi was never a fast runner. He did P.E. in high school and sprinted 50 meters on the field whenever he needed to burn off some steam, but he never enjoyed running.

Running to the hospital made him hate it more than he thought humanly possible.

Each time his feet struck the concrete sent a shockwave up his knee, pins and needles pinching his nerves like no other injury he’d endured before. It was a miracle he hadn’t tripped over his own feet yet. He didn’t care, not one bit. He needed to get to you right now and if that meant suffering shin splints then so be it.

When he finally turned his phone back on, it didn’t take him more than two seconds to read the first message before he was sprinting out of his apartment.

59 missed calls

22 new voicemails

65 unread messages

______’s in the hospital

Every footstep after that was synchronous with each ring of his phone; a new text message, another phone call, a bunch of voicemails that no one ever listened to on a regular basis other than when you really had nothing else to do.

Yoongi can safely say that his lungs have never burned, ached, or pulsed more in his entire life than right now. His vision was blurry and he could hardly see straight, but he managed to make out the faint outline of Namjoon’s lanky frame. He would recognize him anywhere—it turns out people remember the first fistfight much better than they give each other credit for. However, this time, it was Namjoon doing the swinging and Yoongi being the receiving end.

Nonetheless, he didn’t expect a swift hook the moment he opened those hospital doors.

“Namjoon!” Jungkook and the others rushed to hold him back, nurses and surrounding staff calling security at lightning speed.

“It’s fine!” Yoongi held his hand up towards the staff and pinched his nose. Leaning forward, he felt blood trickle down his knuckles and into his mouth. The faint metallic tang took him back to the night he and Namjoon almost killed each other at your apartment.

The doctors looked at each other, silently debating whether or not they should have them kicked out. After a few moments of reading the air, they understood the nature of your situation and let it pass, just this once.

“Where is she.” Yoongi’s question came our more like a callous statement.

Hoseok’s hand came up to touch Yoongi’s shoulder but he smacked it away like he’d just been burned by a hot stove.

“Where the fuck is ______, Namjoon,” he growled, facing Namjoon head on blood-streaked face and all.

Namjoon didn’t say a word. He simply stared at the guy he used to call his best friend and waited. Waited for another question, an answer—hell, even a punch or a kick would suffice if it meant getting a reaction from Yoongi. A full minute passed in utter total silence and the others sat quietly in the surrounding chairs, monitoring the two ticking time bombs just in case things escalated quickly.

Seokjin tried to calm him down. “She’s in the OR. We’re still waiting for an update.”

“Glad you made it,” Namjoon’s voice cracked, practically spitting at him. “What took you so long, Yoongi?”

“Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi muttered through clenched teeth. “Where. Is. She.”

Namjoon began laughing, a livid flame burning behind his dark eyes. His chuckles were soon replaced by shallow breaths, gasping and coughing, until he broke down into sobs.

“She was going to see you,” Namjoon trembled, rage and sadness wrapping their tendrils around every fiber of his being. “—you unbelievable fucking idiot.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed into slits and his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Namjoon was sitting on the ground with his back against the wall and head buried between his knees. Lifting his head up, he kept his eyes focused on the floor tiles. If he looked at Yoongi, he’d be more than tempted to deck him again. This time, he wouldn’t stop after a single blow.

“She came over to my place and told me that she couldn’t be with me,” he reaffirmed. “Because she loved you.”

Yoongi’s world came crashing down. You loved him? You loved him back?

“She said she needed to go see you,” Namjoon continued. “I told her to hurry up and go before you fell asleep. I told her to go and she actually listened to me.” All eyes were on Namjoon now, anticipating what would come out of his mouth next.

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek and covered his mouth, holding back his whimpers. “She ran outside before I could even say a proper goodbye and th—”

Jungkook broke. “I was on my way upstairs when I heard the car all the way down the street... ” His voice hitched on the truth, only now comprehending the gravity of their new reality.

“Lady blew a .19,” the older one sneered. “Said her drink was spiked but we all knew she was just fucking wasted and wanted to take her new ride out for a spin.”

The bustling background noise of the hospital was now mute. Deep down inside Yoongi’s heart, something snapped. Anatomically or physically, he didn’t know, but it was even more painful than anything he had experienced in his entire life. His fingertips began buzzing like static ran through them and the sounds around him grew fuzzy, as if he’d been plunged twelve meters deep into the darkest trench of the ocean.

Yoongi’s hand flew up to his chest, a tearing sound he swear he could hear echoing like a cannon ripple. His friends stumbled to their feet and screamed to any nearby medical personnel for help. Namjoon was shellshocked, frozen like a deer in headlights. He’d just seen your lifeless body get rolled into the hospital wing. Even though he refused to admit it, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he lost another friend today.

His ears was ringing like when he had the worst migraine back in senior year. Finals season, go figure. Yoongi snuck into your room and stayed there with you all night. Sure, you managed to get a little bit studying done.

“Fucking do something!” Taehyung screamed. “Help him!”

Yoongi kicked and thrashed at anyone who tried touching him, moaning and crying out until his throat went raw. An excruciating pain spread throughout his body. It felt like his muscles were peeling apart from his bones and his bare body was being dunked in battery acid.

Then came the pit.

It started with a numb cramp. Then, a hole opened up from deep inside his chest, swallowing all of his air and making it impossible to breathe. It was unbearable. He was going to pass out from the pain; he wanted to. Anything was better than this. God, everything fucking hurt and he just wanted to go to sleep.

The last thing he saw was a hoard of nurses running into the room across his and the sound of of defibrillator paddles charging. With all the blood streaked across your face, he could barely make out the scar on your temple. It was from sophomore year—you fell down the bleachers after a night of bad decisions and way too many drinks. If Yoongi hadn’t caught you, you probably would’ve snapped your leg.

He doesn’t want to remember what happened after that.

Another week passed before you decided to leave the house. It had been exactly 18 months since you moved here and yet, the city still felt foreign to you. Sure, you had a cozy studio apartment decorated well enough to remind you of home, a job you loved with all your heart, kind neighbors who treated you like a local, and not to mention a tightly-knit circle of friends you treasured more than anything.

So why on Earth did you still feel so undeniably out of place?

Pulling back the blinds, the sunlight streamed in like rays of heavenly light. It wasn’t supposed to be sunny today, but you weren’t one to complain. After weeks of staying cooped up in your own apartment and using “the holidays” as an excuse, your pasty complexion deemed itself worthy of some vitamin D and fresh outside air. You weren’t entirely sure how to explain it, but something was bugging you, willing you, to go outside.

Yeah, you definitely needed some fresh air if some weird gut feeling was what finally convinced you to go outside.

Throwing on a thick wooly coat you snagged from the thrift shop during your first month here, you had to slam the door shut with as much finesse and gusto as Houdini himself. Cheap apartments didn’t come without their share of cons, but you liked to think that your bank account thanked you each month.

Skipping down the street right after the snow melted was the perfect equation for disaster. That didn’t stop it from being fun. You were in a good mood today for some unknown reason. Everyone had their good days as much as they had their bad ones, didn’t they?

The warm smell of freshly baked bread wafted in the air. It flooded your nostrils with the most delightful, comforting, and delectable scent you’d ever had the pleasure of smelling. It also reminded you how hungry you were and that it was a bad decision to skip breakfast. You apologized to your wallet before venturing off to find the nearest café. At least it was cheaper than eating at a restaurant.

You lied. It was all in the name of really good coffee and you happened to know exactly where to find some.

The jingling of the door chime was something you had grown accustomed to over the course of 10 months. This was the only café that actually poured bottomless cups of black coffee and only charged for every two refills on lattes, cappuccinos, and other milk drinks.

“The usual I presume?” your favorite host offered, already getting a cup ready.

You smiled wide. “You know me oh so well, Jimin.”

Flashing you his signature grin and a cheeky wink, he got to work steaming the milk for your double-shot flat white. “Where’s Namjoon?” you wondered aloud. “Isn’t it his turn for the lunch shift?”

Jimin chortled. “It always blows my mind that you seem to know our schedules better than we do.” You rolled your eyes at his backhanded compliment; flattering because he appreciated how attentive and close you were with everyone who worked here, but mildly insulting because he was implying that you spent so much time here that you didn’t get out enough.

Finishing up cleaning the last row of plates, Jimin slung the dish towel over his shoulder. He beckoned you to come closer and you leaned over the counter. “Joonie has a date,” he whispered in your ear.

“I don’t see those hands moving, Park Jimin!” You’d know that velvety voice anywhere. “Don’t forget you’re taking out the trash later if Seokjin catches you!”

“Just keeping me company, Taehyung!” Sipping the top layer of foam from the red ceramic cup, you sighed in pure bliss.

Sticking his head out from the kitchen, his lips formed into a giddy smile. “It’s been a few days princess! How long did you sleep for this time?”

“Hardy har har,” you jeered, scowling at his never ending tirade of Snow White jokes. “At least I still get my beauty sleep.”

Taking mock offense to this, he didn’t get a chance to react before Seokjin snuck up from behind him smacked the back of his head with a wooden spoon. “Stop flirting with customers and finish table eight’s order, doofus.”

“We don’t open for another hour!” Taehyung wailed.

You suppressed the snort that almost escaped by taking another sip of your coffee. “Missed you too, Seokjin,” you greeted. He smiled heartily at you and waved before picking up the phone. Running a business while having your best friends work for you wasn’t exactly the best recipe for success, so to speak.

“So this ‘date’ Namjoon has,” you hummed. “Is she pretty?”

A pair of hands from behind you snaked their way your waist, tickling you into a fit of forced laughter. “It’s not good to butt your nose into other people’s business!”

You were too busy choking on your giggles, you couldn’t talk. After an incredibly long six seconds, Jungkook pulled away and greeted you with an innocent grin. His nose was crinkled the slightest bit and his eyes were inviting half-moons.

“That’s the least you deserve for leaving me with these idiots for the past three days...” he immediately broke into a pout.

At this, Jimin swung the towel off his shoulder and smacked Jungkook straight across the face with it. His reaction was straight out of a cartoon. If you hadn’t finished your drink beforehand, flat white would have spewed out of your nostrils all over the counter.

“Watch your mouth kid,” Jimin warned in a melodramatic voice, and even he was holding back a series of cackles.

“See what I mean!” Jungkook whined to you, tugging your sleeve and pouting. “They’re so mean to me and steal all the tips!”

From the kitchen, Taehyung tsked to scold the younger one and waved his spatula around for extra emphasis. “We don’t steal them, you’re just to busy chatting up all the customers to pay attention to the little details.”

Jungkook’s mouth contorted into a pucker and he started mouthing their words to mock them. You forced yourself to stay quiet and pressed your lips together to force back any reaction.

The ringing of the door caused you all to turn around. It was Hoseok and his—friend?

"______!” His voice was telltale surprised and ecstatic to see your face after a couple of days of absence. “Kook, Chim, Tae, guess who I brought?”

“Well well, and I thought we had seen our share of ghosts for the day,” Taehyung gawked, ignoring the pet names Hoseok coined for them in elementary school.

Jimin wore a look of awe. “You must be a vampire or something, you’re still as young and as pale as ever.”

“So I did get taller!” Jungkook blurted out like the child he still was.

The man standing beside him currently had his back turned towards you, focusing instead on the antique decor that adorned the walls, tables, chairs, and ceilings of this establishment. He wore a simple outfit, bearing nothing but a white hoodie, dark jeans, and frayed navy blue sneakers.

When he finally turned around, you thought your heart did a triple somersault and landed in your throat. Did you know him? Didn’t you know him It wasn’t as simple as the fact that he looked familiar, he felt familiar. Everything from his face, gaze, aura, energy, and even his scent engulfed you in a cloak of solace. You knew him from somewhere, yet you had no idea who he was or where he was from.

The moment he turned around, Yoongi was immediately drawn to you. Everything else flew out the window and you were the sole focus of his mind. A forcefield of curiosity and yearning overrode all of his thoughts and he was consumed by one wish and one wish only: he needed to know your name. He needed to know who you were.

With wide eyes and an invisible string pulling the two of you towards one another like polar ends, you didn’t notice that he had made his way right in front until Jungkook coughed up a lung.

Hoseok broke the silence in the air. “______, this is Yoongi. Yoongi, this is ______.”

He was still drinking in your features. the tiniest details of your uneven dimples, delicate lips, baby hairs, down to the way your eyes sparkled and twinkled like the brightest stars in the sky.

Likewise, you were sketching out every single detail of his face; the almond-shaped creases of his eyes, pouty lips, flawless skin, and of course, the half a second he let his gummy smile slip past his lips.

“Hi,” you finally murmured, quieter than the sound of a cricket chirping in the dead of night. A small grin crept along the edges of your lips as he parted his lips to speak.

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile that lit up his features. “Hi.”

“Psst—” Taehyung craned his body over the serving window to whisper in Jimin’s ear. “What’s up with them?”

Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok shrugged, looking back and forth at each other, then at you and Yoongi.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” So this is what it’s like...

He held out his hand, the distance between you staying the same yet growing shorter each second.

Taking his outstretched hand into yours, you slowly closed your fingers around his, admiring how they seemed to fit perfectly like a lock and key. It was as if a spark had ignited between your two bodies, embers flying like fireworks underneath the pitch black darkness of night. How were his hands so warm?

Any remaining drop of apprehension you ever had was now gone, replaced by a bright, glowing light that outshined everything else.

“The pleasure is mine.” Finally.

The air hung heavy with nerves as you and Yoongi stood absolutely silent, fingers still entwined with one another. Hoseok coughed from the serving counter. When did he get there—

“You gonna catch up with us or leave us hanging again, Yoongs?” Jimin teased, a mischievous smirk painting his features. Letting go of his hand, the feeling of cold air grazing your palm was instantaneous. Jungkook slung his arm over your shoulder jokingly. “What have you been up to, Yoongi?” He was desperate for some kind of attention, he was willing to piss his best friend off for it. You tried to refrain from giggling.

“What am I, cold turkey?” Taehyung complained from the back. Crossing your arms to shelter your hands, you notice how icy they’d become in the span of a few seconds. Yoongi climbed over the counter in the blink of an eye and whacked the chef behind his head.

“Show some respect you goofball, you haven’t seen me in months,” the older scolded. Chuckling, his gums were the slightest bit visible as he smiled wide, another wave of familiarity swallowing your senses.

You stepped outside five minutes after the guys started chatting and catching up with each other, awkwardness overcoming your ability to carry on a normal conversation. Yoongi’s presence made you—flustered, to say the least. Ideally and in any other social situation, you would have stayed and introduced yourself to him further, but you felt like you were already intruding on a private conversation.

After an hour of pacing back and forth and pretending to be busy with a phone call, you went back inside and told the guys you had to get back home. “I forgot I had some extra papers I still haven’t sorted through,” you lied through a forced out dry laugh. “Don’t want my boss to kill me.”

The guys waved goodbye, and Yoongi looked like he’d been slapped across the face. “It was nice meeting you,” he managed to pry out. “See you around.”

Flashing him a tight-lipped grin, you scooped up your things from the counter, bid the boys farewell, and hurried out the door. The moment you set foot out the door, it was as if something tugged the hems of your coat. Did you forget your phone? Bag? Journal? Wallet?

Patting yourself down thoroughly, you shook it off as just another misled gut feeling. You hadn’t visited the café in a while and started the day off on an off foot in the first place.

You were a few meters from the café when someone called out to you—shouted, actually.

“______!” Their footsteps drew closer, each dull thunk on the pavement instead reverberating like a crisp knock on hardwood.

Turning around, your looked down at the figure hunched over directly in front of you and gasped. Yoongi was panting heavily, shoulders rising and falling as he supported himself by resting his hands on his knees. Patting his back out of habit like you’d done for your high school teammates after a track meet, he reached out and gripped your forearm for support.

Biting back a chuckle, you had to ask. “Are you alright?” Had he really sprinted that far just to catch up to you? Damn, you really did leave your phone back there, didn’t you...

Clearing his throat, he stood up straight and tried catching his breath. “Never been better, thanks.” He was still holding your arm. “I was going to ask if you—if you uh, God this is weird—,” he stuttered, eyes falling to the concrete pavement beneath his feet.

You tried your hardest not to interrupt. While he kept tripping over his words like an adorable nervous wreck, you relaxed your arm so that his hand slid into yours, slotting together perfectly like two matching puzzle pieces. Feeling the warmth radiate from his touch, you saw his expression ease immediately. He squeezed your hand. When you returned the favor with a shy grin, it gave him the courage to speak.

“Do you want to go out for dinner sometime, ______?” he finally asked, your name flowing off of his tongue like the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. Yoongi’s eyes glimmered with anticipation and hope.

Looking deeper into his entrancing gaze, you didn’t have to think twice. “I would love to, Yoongi.” His heart exploded in his chest when you said his name, a trapped butterfly escaping from its cage with a vivid flurry of colors and radiating light.

Love at first sight always seemed like nothing short of a fairytale, but you had a feeling that this came pretty damn close to it.

Soulmates weren’t always romantic lovers. Sometimes, they were close friends or merely acquaintances. More often than not, they even lived their entire human life without finding each other, the closing chapter of their lives spent with their loved ones, twin flame, an unlinked soul, or in complete solitude.

Each life was given to you for a reason. Every experience, painful memory, death, birth, and ounce of love and loss you endured throughout all of your past lives was entirely out of your control. It was neither your destiny nor fate to remember the lifetimes with or without your soulmate, and doing so would be a waste of the time you were given in this current life.

Fate, karma, destiny, divine logos, universal divinity—call it what you want.

We do not remember our past, nor are we better off predicting our future.

All we have is the present moment and ourselves, and that is more than enough.

5/5/2020—3:43:01 AM

220 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 4 years

Text

Johan, Tenma and Nina: “I am You and You are Me”

Hello anon!

Thank you for the ask!

In order to properly analyze Johan though, rather than focusing only on his relationship with Tenma, I think it is important to explore his relationship and foiling with Nina as well, so I hope you won’t mind if in this meta I explore her too.

As a matter of fact, I would say that Tenma, Nina and Johan are the three main characters of Monster and Nina and Tenma’s respective relationships with Johan are equally important to the final outcome and to define who Johan is.

I would also add that it has been a while since I read Monster and even if I will reread some parts for the meta, I am sure I’ll forget many details and subplots which might have added something to this analysis.

This meta will be divided into four sections.

- The first will explore the relationship between Johan and Nina/Tenma and how the picture books convey it.

-The second will say what Johan’s symbolical meaning is within the story.

-The third will be an analysis on who Johan really is (at least a hypothesis).

-The fourth will be a conclusion.

PICTURE BOOKS: TENMA AND NINA’S RELATIONSHIP WITH THE MONSTER

In order to better flash out the relationships between Johan and others I will use the picture books mentioned in the story. I have already talked a little of these books in this meta:

The pictures books which are shown in the series are all pretty important both for the themes and for describing the relationships among the three main characters.

When it comes to Nina and Johan’s relationship, the book which mostly describes it is The Nameless Monster.

In this book there are two nameless monsters who represent the twins. They go in different directions searching for a name i.e. an identity or who they are. This symbolizes how the twins have lost their memories and don’t have strong senses of identity because of their past. However, they reach two opposite solutions. On one hand, the monster of the East who symbolizes Johan possesses a young boy and takes his name. However, in order to stay into the boy’s body he starts killing all the people close to the boy. Basically he creates a situation where, despite him having a name, nobody can use it. This is because the monster’s identity doesn’t lie in a name, but in him accepting his lack of a name (so Johan must accept his past) and in building relationships with others. On the other hand the monster of the West who symbolizes Nina accepts that he is just a nameless monster. This fits with the fact that, ironically, while Johan is always called Johan by the other characters, Nina is called either Nina or Anna and both names are true. What is important is that Nina doesn’t let her past define herself as much as Johan and that she finally accepts it and is able to forgive Johan because of it. Interestingly, the parallels between the twins and the monsters stop when it comes to the ending. As a matter of fact in the book the boy kills the other monster and so he effectively becomes a nameless monster since he lost the only person who truly knew him. However, in the series Johan never kills Nina. She and Tenma become two people he ends up not killing and so they end up saving his life and they give him a personhood by the virtue of simply knowing Johan.

Other than the Nameless Monster, three other picture books are mentioned. They are The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth, The God of Peace and A Peaceful Home.

In the current meta I will not consider the last one which is mostly about Bonaparta’s redemption (it is the one about an evil magician who goes to a village to steal from the people, but ends up helping them) and is thematically linked to the idea that humans can change. I will instead focus on the other three.

I have already shared some thoughts on the book The Nameless Monster above, so I will now focus on The God of Peace.

While The Nameless Monster is important for Nina and Johan’s foiling, The God of Peace is important for Tenma and Johan’s relationship.

It is clear that the plot of the story calls back to what happened to Tenma.

The God of Peace is a deity who tries his best to make everyone happy. What is more, he is characterized as a father figure since he gives names to the children:

However, at one point a kid called Johan gives the God a hat and the God uses a mirror for the first time. This leads to him seeing that his own reflection is a devil. He realizes that there can’t be peace with such a Devil and kills it and, in this way, kills himself as well.

This is a metaphorical representation of what happened to Tenma. As a matter of fact the story starts with this question:

Tenma decides that all lives are equal and this is why he saves Johan instead of the VIP he was ordered to operate. The result of this is literally Tenma’s rebirth as a doctor. He is glad of what he has done and with time he is able to build a hospital without corruption where lives are treated as equals. After ten years from the operation Tenma lives in a blessed world where everyone is happy and where acting in the right way only delivers good results. His second meeting with Johan destroys this illusion and shows that Tenma’s currently idyllic situation came at the cost of many lives, that his superiors died because he wished they did in front of a sleepy Johan and that if he had just gave in to the corruption of his superiors a “monster” would have died.

In other words, Johan forces Tenma to realize reality is more complex than what he would like and starts Tenma’s existential crisis. This crisis leads Tenma to doubt his own ideals (is it really true that all lives are equal? Wouldn’t Johan’s death mean a lot of others will be saved?) and to try to kill Johan multiple times. Symbolically Tenma killing Johan would mean that he gives up on his ethical code and on his mission as a doctor. It would mean that together with Johan Tenma would be killing a part of himself as well and it is this specific part of himself that has been helping so many people. In order to kill the Devil Tenma must also kill the God of Peace.

In other words, Tenma finds himself facing an impossible dilemma and in this dilemma lies the main theme of the series which is conveyed through the third picture book.

In The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth, two men are offered to make a deal with the devil. The man with the big mouth accepts, while the man with the big eyes refuses. As a result, the man with the big mouth has a very enjoyable life, but towards the end of it he realizes his mistake and regrets his deal with the devil. Now, usually one would expect that the man with big eyes has the opposite destiny. He might struggle in life, but will finally be rewarded in the end. However, this is not what happens and in the end the man with big eyes is just as miserable as the man with the big mouth. He regrets not having made a deal with the devil and it is by that point that the devil returns:

After Nina hears this story she is asked this:

This is not by chance because this short-story perfectly conveys the apparently dead-end the characters are all facing.

They can either refuse to buy into the ideology that different lives have different values or accept it. If they accept it, they end up corrupted in a world which is sad and dark. However, even if they refuse it they must accept the existence of someone like Johan who openly challenges the ideas of justice and of empathy. So, what should they do? What does the story mean? What is the solution?

The short story conveys a pessimistic moral. There is no way out and in the end everyone will surrender to the devil and lose hope.

This vision is a nihilistic one and nihilism is linked to this:

It is the “vision of the doomsday” Johan keeps talking about. This scenery comes up numerous times:

The first scene is the scene you asked about. There Johan looks Schuwald in the eyes and asks him what he sees. In this scene the scenery of the doomsday does not directly appear, but Johan invokes it with his words since he describes a reality of solitude where only he and Nina existed and had no names. This is a reference to their lives starting with the Red Rose Mansion incident up until when they were found by Wolf. By this point the reader knows nothing and probably Johan too has fragmented memories, but he is talking about the Three Frogs incident where their mother gave Nina up to Bonaparta (a town out of a fairy-tale), the Red Rose Mansion massacre (many people died) and Nina and Johan’s journey towards the border (my other self and I held hands and walked...we were the only two people in the world...and we had no names). All of these experiences end up being summarized and artisticly conveyed in other moments through the imagery of the vision of the doomsday which represents the absolute end and nothingness.

Wolf (in the second scene) sees it before dying and calls it the land of the nameless.Having a name in the story is symbolic of having an identity and this means mostly that someone knows you. If nobody can’t call your name, then you do not really exist and there is no proof of your existence. Relationships with others define the person to an extent and the land of the nameless is a dimension where all these relationships are lost and the individual is alone in front of nothing. It is a place full of solitude. This landscape is symbolic of Johan’s mind and of his vision of the world.

Before going on, I will like to highlight one last thing about the picture books. I have mentioned that the book A Nameless Monster seems to be a reference to Johan and Nina’s relationship, while The God of Peace is a reference to the bond between Johan and Tenma. This is true and especially evident, but what is said in both books is true for both Nina and Tenma.

As stated above, for example, in the end Johan is saved because of his relationship with both Nina and Tenma and not just because of the one he has with his sister.

At the same time, what is said in The God of Peace is true also for Nina and not only for Tenma. After all, there is this:

Johan repeats the Devil’s gesture to both his sister and Tenma in different moments. Nina also states this:

This is a direct reference to what happens in the story since Nina claims she will kill Johan and then herself. How does the story of The God of Peace fit Nina and Johan?

It has to do with their opposite coping mechanisms.

On one hand Nina removes her most painful memories. This is why she has forgotten about the Red Rose Mansion and later on she forgets about Johan and her attempted murder of him. In this way she protects herself and her idea of being “pure” and “righteous” somehow.

This is coherent with Nina’s initial strictness about justice I have discussed here:

Basically, she goes from an idea of justice which is extremely strict and merciless to an idea of justice which is intertwined with empathy and which refuses death penalty. She is also a character who starts out not believing that a person can be redeemed and ends her arc by forgiving her brother and believing that even he can find redemption. This is her arc in a nut-shell and the chapter the Fifth Spoonful of Sugar touches all of these ideas.

And it is made clear in scenes like this:

Nina is scared that remembering her trauma will make her a monster. She needs to believe that she did not assist to any massacre and that, if she did, the event left no scar on her. This is obviously impossible and this is why when she remembers what happened she showcases an unusual violent side and even presents suicide tendencies.

On the other hand Johan attaches himself to the few memories he has and, because of his own frail identity, ends up accepting as his own even Nina’s past. Basically, Johan is so scared of losing that little sense of self that he has that he has made Nina’s memories his own.

It is telling that in the beginning both twins are so sure of their respective roles in the Red Rose Mansion case that they barely question them. Johan is sure to be the one who saw people die, while Nina is sure that she is the child who waited for Johan safely at home. This can suggest that the two siblings had developed specific roles in their dynamic and that, to be more precise, Johan was the one who took upon himself the role of protecting his sister and the role of a devil, while Nina took upon herself the role of victim and of being “pure”. In short, they have both uncounsciously embraced a narrative in order to survive. However, these roles are clearly too simplicistic to describe the complexity of the situation and of both siblings and Nina’s journey is also about realizing this.

In summary, Nina has been using a coping mechanism thanks to which she has been able to repress everything negative that happened to her. Her brother is the link to these events, so her quest to find him and to understand him leads to her uncovering her lost memories.

This is why the metaphor of the God of Peace and of the Devil fits Nina and Johan as it does Tenma and Johan. Both Nina and Tenma were able to live peaceful lives at the price of forgetting or not realizing the truth about Johan. Johan is in other words a Jungian Shadow to the both of them and this is why they can’t kill him without self-destroying.

To finish this section, let’s underline that the three picture books we discussed have all grim endings and that all these endings were negated or subverted by the main story. In the end Johan did not kill Tenma and Nina and so he could continue to exist and did not become a nameless monster. Nina and Tenma did not kill Johan and so they did not kill themselves. Finally the Devil’s tempation was avoided.

AN UNINTELLIGIBLE DEVIL: JOHAN AS AN UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTH

I don’t think that your struggle to understand Johan is by chance because all in all I don’t think Johan is a character made to be completely understood. Rather he is a character written to challenge both the readers and the characters to understand him. After all, the essence of Monster is the search for Johan. By this, I mean both the physical search for Johan since he needs to be stopped, but also the search of what made Johan Johan. Why is Johan the way he is? What motivates him? Was he born a monster or did he become one? And why?

The point of Johan is that there is no answer or maybe there are so many answers that it is difficult to find a definite one. This is why both Nina and Tenma in their investigations keep discovering things and offering answers only for those answers to be readily subverted.

For example, when Tenma discovers about Kinderheim 511 he believes that Johan has become who he is because of the ruthless mistreatment he received there. However, he soon realizes that even before that place Johan had already killed. That said, this does not mean that Kinderheim 511 had no effect on Johan whatsoever or that he is not a victim of that place. Johan is a victim, but the way he acts can’t be explained or excused with his victimhood.

Later on, Nina suspects that her brother has a double personality who forces him to commit crimes. However, this turns out to be false as well. This does not mean, though, that the lines Nina has read and which say “Look at me! Look at me! The monster inside of me has gotten stronger” are not true for Johan. They are and, even if Johan does not have any double personality, he still has an identity problem which is at the root of his behaviour.

Finally, both Nina and Tenma think that the root of Johan’s trauma is that he was given by his mother to Bonaparta, was brought to the Red Rose Mansion and assisted at the deaths of many people. However, even this explanation turns out to be false since it was Nina and not Johan the one who saw the massacre. That said, even in this case, their mother’s choice and the massacre at the mansion have had a huge impact on Johan, but not in the way everyone expects. What is more, even in that case, his behaviour can’t be excused and can’t be completely explained since Nina went through similar experiences and reacted differently.

In other words, to quote a character from another franchise:

In short, what is upsetting about Johan is that he does not let the characters or the readers find simple solutions and his presence brings up distressing truths. What is “evil”? How do you behave in front of someone who embodies the essence of evilness?

This is why Johan is clearly associated throughout the narrative to the idea of the Devil, while Tenma is clearly associated to the idea of God. Where Johan kills and destroys, Tenma helps and cures.

This is why their fight is symbolic of the battle between good and evil and at the same time, it can’t be solved with one killing the other. As a matter of fact Johan does not want to kill Tenma, but wants to kill what Tenma believes in. At the same time, Tenma killing Johan would mean the defeat of his ideals.

Basically, Johan is not a character easy to empathize with. Don’t get me wrong, people will surely empathize, but even in that case, I think they will mostly empathize with fragments of his story, rather than with the entirety of it and with all its contradictions. This is because he is written in a way which makes him difficult to process.

Maybe it is because of this that, in the end, the fact Nina and Tenma are finally able to empathize with Johan is something which turns out incredibly important for their development and the focus stays on them in those moments to the point that we never get to properly see Johan’s POV and how he reacts to this empathy. To be honest, we can’t even be sure that Nina and Tenma are right in their conclusions even if the story highly implies so. As a matter of fact Nina and Tenma’s moments of realization are moments which present Johan filtered through their own eyes and them finally understanding the “monster” lets them finally understand themselves.

In Nina’s case:

She arrives at the conclusion that if she had just forgiven her brother back then and probably seeked help, she could have avoided everything that happened later. She reaches the conclusion after seeing Bonaparta’s drawings, remembering the man’s words and remembering Johan’s tears in the past and imagining his present ones.

Once she reaches this understanding of her brother she is ready to forgive him and she actually wants to. Nina’s arc is great because it shows that forgiveness does not equal redemption. Sometimes there is redemption without forgiveness (like in Bonaparta’s case since it is implied Johan has not forgiven him), while sometimes there is forgiveness without redemption (Johan has done nothing to amend, but Nina still forgives him).

In Tenma’s case, his final understanding of Johan comes in the very last chapter and it is this:

I would like to highlight that this scene in itself is ambiguous. Is Tenma dreaming? Or is Johan truly talking with him? It is not clear, but in the first case we can say Tenma has finally understood the truth behind the mystery Johan is, while in the second case we have Johan finally opening up about what hurt him the most.

In both Nina and Tenma’s cases, it is important that their understanding of Johan is radicated in their understanding of themselves. Nina is Johan’s sister and so she must understand him as a sister, she must untie and solve all the ambiguities and misunderstanding of their relationship and uncover the past they share. Tenma is the doctor who saved Johan’s life and clearly Johan has laced on him as to a father figure, even if in a twisted way. Because of this, it makes sense that in the end he is the one who realizes how much his mother’s choice has affected Johan.

In other words, Johan is a mirror of both Nina and Tenma and his elusive nature is what keeps the story together thematically. The story asks what a monster is and if the answer were simple the story would not be so captivating.

In the end both Tenma and Nina “defeat” the devil, but they do so not by killing him, but by refusing his nihilistic logic. They have managed to free themselves from the devil’s constant tempation. Even if the life of the man with big eyes is difficult the only hope lies in fighting against evilness and injustice through a correct behaviour. If one leaves that path they will only suffer and lose themselves.

This is also why the final image is so powerful:

Johan disappears once again and we, as readers, can only hope he will use the second chance he was given in a positive way and not to start another cycle. That said, this is something we can’t be completely sure of as we can’t be sure of evilness completely disappearing from the world. What we can be sure of is that it is necessary to resist it.

“LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! THE MONSTER INSIDE OF ME IS GETTING STRONGER!”: THE EMPTINESS BEHIND THE SCARY MONSTER

Let’s consider this:

This scene shows Wolf giving Johan his name and how he indeed was inspired by the Picture Book the boy had with him.

This is important because it shows how Johan’s identity ends up being strictly intertwined with those picture books. In a sense, Johan is the fruit of those books since he ends taking the name “Johan” used by different characters in those books, repeats the books’ lines in an obsessive way and even ends up unconsciously reproducing the stories in the real life. He does so by repeating specific lines and latching onto situations which resemble the ones he read in the books. For example, he identifies with the nameless monster of the books and tries to cope with the emptiness he feels inside by joining different families only to leave them and discard them once they are not able to fill the emptiness he feels. He identifies Nina as his other self, just like the Devil and the God of Peace of the books and repeats the devil’s lines to her. Once he finds Tenma aka an incredibly altruistic and selfless person who ends up saving his life he starts unconsciously replicating the same dynamic with him. He tempts people and manipulates them like the Devil of The Man with Big Eyes and the Man with the Big Mouth. It is actually interesting that Johan ends up always identifying with the devil instead than with other characters, but this can be partially explained by the fact that devils and monsters are the most recurrent characters in the books. This might be why Johan aka a child with a very frail sense of self ended up projecting on them specifically as characters appearing often and being constant. This might also be why he specifically latched on the name Johan which is often used in the books. In general, he develops a vision of the world which is pessimistic and nihilistic and which is the one conveyed by the book he was taught to study and to read.

This is important because in this way Johan becomes the heir of Bonaparta’s vision before his change of heart, while Nina who was shown a glimpse of love and of hope becomes the heir of Bonaparta’s ideals conveyed in A Peaceful Home.

What is interesting is that Johan’s emulation of the picture books became so severe specifically because of him not having a strong enough sense of self hence his necessity to latch on to things and to other people to define himself.

This is made clear since when his mother had to choose one of her children over the other. In the end, one of the reasons why his mother’s choice left such a huge impact on him was because he was not sure that his mother really intended to save him instead of his sister. Behind this doubt hides the fear of not really existing as an individual and of simply being a part of a set to the point that even his own mother is not able to distinguish him from his sister. This is a feeling which could probably be born because of the horrific childhood he and Nina had. As a matter of fact they were not given names and were treated like weapons by the people around them. What is more, the twins only had each other when it came to important relationships between peers.

This frail sense of self combined with the very strong bond Johan has with his sister leads to him confusing her memories for his. When it comes to that, this is interesting:

This is a glimpse of what used to happen in Kinderheim 511 and it is shown that some experiments there damaged people’s memories. This might be why Johan lost his memories and why in an attempt not to forget his sister he ended up making her past his. All in all, it is not clear when exactly Johan started confusing his memories with hers and it might have been before Kinderheim 511, during it or even after Nina shot him. The point is that the scene above shows Johan’s strong wish not to forget the person whom he defined himself through and how this wish is at the root of him twisting his memories.

What is interesting is that throughout the years Johan started reproducing a series of crimes which can be connected to his own trauma and to Nina’s one. On one hand he started killing parental figures and eliminated all the people who cared for the siblings through their journey. This is a response to the betrayal he felt towards his mother who gave up on one of her children and later on left them both behind. On the other hand he started organizing massacres to emulate what happened at the Red Rose Mansion.

These repetitive actions give birth to a pattern Johan himself is unable to leave. He is trapped in his own past and so he keeps reproducing it together with the fairy tales he used to read as a child.

This behaviour underlines a contradiction Johan has. On one hand he wants to develop relationships with others and this is why he keeps searching for new parental figures. On the other hand he is not able to properly have relationships which are not manipulative or exploitative. All in all he is never able to make “the monster inside of him” rest. This restless monster who keeps getting stronger is not really his violent side, as Nina thinks at first, but it is nothing more than the emptiness he feels because he does not really understand who he is. He can’t give any meaning to his life and so he keeps searching for one, does not find it, accepts nihilism and repeats. In a sense, he fails in his search because he has already given up on it before starting it. He has already accepted the vision of the doomsday.

CONCLUSION: GOD, DEVIL AND HUMAN

This analysis showed how Tenma, Johan and Nina are all connected and how there is a constant foiling among all three of them.

1) Tenma and Johan represent respectively the “God” and the “Devil” meaning that their respective philosophies challenge each other and embody “goodness” and “evilness”.

2) Nina and Johan embody two opposite reactions to a traumatic past. Nina completely removed the bad things, while Johan stayed attached to them to the point that he made his even Nina’s. None of these reactions is completely correct and this is why Nina went through a painful journey of self-discovery to retrieve her memories.

3) Finally Nina and Tenma are two people who start parallel journeys to find Johan and end up saving each other in these journeys.

As a matter of fact Tenma saves Nina in the beginning when he saves Johan and prevents Nina from becoming a murderer, while Nina saves Tenma from the same fate at the end when she stops Tenma from shooting and encourages him to save her brother.

All in all, it is interesting that throughout their journey they both try to kill Johan, but are against the other doing it as if they could see clearly that this action would negatively affect them:

So, in a sense Nina and Tenma too are mirrors and they can see their own pain and confusion in the other.

This last point is interesting also when it comes to the teological motif concerning Tenma. As a matter of fact Tenma represents God within the story, but at the same time his struggle and indeciveness are incredibly human. He never loses himself, but he is about to many times. So Tenma is both “god” and “human”. We can also say that he is a specific ideal incarnated in a human who has to face the fact that this ideal is not so easy to follow and to apply in the human world with all its contradictions. This is also true because of society incarnated by Lunge (a justice blind to the truth) and Eva (the corruption within society). It is not by chance that because of these two characters Tenma ends up becoming a suspect and is persecuted by society when he himself is trying to protect it. In a sense, Johan is able to act so freely precisely because he acts in Tenma’s shadow. Tenma ends up being Johan’s opposite when it comes to his relationship with others because while in the end very few people are left knowing about Johan, a lot of people know Tenma’s name. These relationships (or lack of in Johan’s case) are for both characters double edged swords. On one hand Tenma is initially suspected because of his relationships with others. For example his relationship with his superiors and with Eva puts him in a bad light. He is a man with positive and negative bonds and this is why he can be suspected of a crime, while Johan can’t and avoids imprisonment because of this. On the other hand Tenma’s relationships are also what saves him multiple times and in the end bonds are also what defeats Johan (the bond between a father and a son) and what saves him (Nina and Tenma’s bond with him).

In short, Tenma is a God made human, while Johan is a victim turned into a devil. Then who exactly is Nina? As @hamliet commented, Nina is humanity who must choose between the two ideologies offered to her. This is why, while both Johan and Tenma remain loyal to their respective philosophies from the beginning of the story to the end, she changes.

Comparing the beginning with the end makes it clear. The story starts and ends with Johan asking a person to shoot him in the head and with Tenma operating and saving Johan. The variable is Nina who starts the story shooting her brother and ends it by encouraging Tenma to save him. This is particularly beautiful because in the end it is thanks to the “human” aka Nina that “god” aka Tenma does not lose himself and wins. In the end the fight between these two forces is decided not by who is stronger, but by the people each one of them is able to influence.

Thank you for the ask! I am sorry for this very long ramble and I hope it is clear enough!

#naoki urasawa's monster #monster #monster meta #naoki urasawa's monster meta #johan liebert #kenzo tenma #nina fortner #anna liebert #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

262 notes · View notes

milgrammer · 4 years

Text

[Theory] First Trial: Haruka

Introduction:

Disclaimer: this post will mention sensitive themes such as homicide, animal abuse, and developmental disorders. Discretion while reading is advised. Furthermore, we are not health professionals. Any diagnoses made within this theory are purely based on independent research.

So, I posted the first draft of this on the MV under the username ‘Mai x’, but the character limit for a single YouTube comment is stingy—even had to split it into two. This theory has progressed since. Honestly, there’s no point in reading the original.

In Short:

This theory is founded on the three arguments as follows, strongest to weakest:

Haruka has some degree of autism

Haruka has a brother, likely a twin

The MV retells his memories in chronological order

Haruka and his twin brother grew up with equal amounts of affection until it became apparent that Haruka was mentally developing slower in comparison. Consequently, his mother (figure) engaged with his brother more by going outside with him etc, while Haruka was left with the assistance dog. For this reason, he viewed his brother as competition for attention and began to bully him.

Later, Haruka fell in love with a girl, possibly named Mirai, but she couldn’t reciprocate those feelings since she favoured his brother, which drove Haruka to strangle her. The authorities caught him in the act, and she survived. His mother (figure), concerned about Haruka’s behaviour, tries to interact with him more, but he is dismissive and believes that she does not believe his explanations. However, still craving her attention and mistaking her frantic words for praise, he continues to hurt other children.

His brother played with Haruka’s assistance dog. Upset, Haruka lured it away. His brother went into the woods looking for it and followed the pawprints. He saw Haruka beating the dog with a stone and tried to stop him, resulting in his hands being dirtied with blood as well. The authorities discover Haruka again, and this time, their mother (figure) had to give them up.

Completely distraught, Haruka blames his brother and drowns him. He is once again discovered by the authorities, but now finally realises that he had been misunderstanding everyone his whole life, and admits that he was the one, who was truly mistaken.

IN-DEPTH UNDER THE CUT

Some Clarifications:

Heads up. If all three statements are falsified, we’ll be back at square one.

There’s strong evidence to suggest Haruka does have autism as he exhibits many common signs, such as lack of eye contact, having little danger awareness, not understanding social cues, deficits in language comprehension, and so on. The list could continue, but I encourage you to look them up yourself. In my opinion, he exhibits far too many for it to be considered coincidental.

I’m more of a linguistic descriptivist, so when I describe certain phrases as “unnatural/odd” or “expected”, a prescriptivist would consider them to be grammatically “incorrect” or “correct” respectively.

The existence of his twin is based on the young boy in the MV, and how closely he resembles Haruka. A common interpretation is that this boy is Haruka’s younger self, but there’s more evidence to suggest the former, which will be explained later.

Assuming that the MV retells Haruka’s memories in chronological order is admittedly just a leap of faith. However, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not as crucial.

Compared to the English version, the original Japanese lyrics are far more ambiguous and have more possible interpretations. It’s partly due to the Japanese language itself, and partly due to Haruka’s grammar. In my opinion, the translated lyrics portray Haruka’s mindset more clearly, so referenced both in this write-up. Any re-translations aren’t meant to discredit the original but should serve as alternatives. After all, I can only imagine how much fun the official translator had with these lyrics.

I’ll be referring to the following, so please acquaint yourself with them:

Weakness MV

Undercover MV

Haruka’s drama CD

Haruka’s profile

Es’ drama CD

Ambiguity/Uncertainties:

It’s safe to assume the lady in the MV is Haruka’s mother, adoptive parent or some sort of guardian, however, there’s not enough evidence to confirm which she is—the difference in hair colours is throwing me off. The line 『ねえどうして変わらないでよ』 (Hey, tell me why. Please don’t change) has two possible interpretations. The first is that his mother’s attitude towards him had changed, and the second is that his aunt or another woman resembling his mother had adopted them, but Haruka thought that they were the same person. This could also explain why no father figure was shown. For now, she’ll be referred to as the “mother (figure)”.

We can’t determine whether his brother is autistic as well, albeit high-functioning, or if he’s neurotypical since studies show that if one twin has autism, the other is likely to have it as well¹. The latter is more likely, but what could’ve happened is that Haruka was diagnosed and they assumed his brother also had it. The scene, where his brother plays with the assistance dog, is bugging me.

The number of ‘sins’ Haruka has committed is unknown. The minimum is 3, the girl, the dog, and his brother, while the maximum is indefinite. The line 『昨日をくり返してあきらめって大事だけど』 (I repeated yesterday, though it’s important to give up) could imply that he had hurt several of his peers in a similar manner, and consequently lost hope in establishing relationships with others. He also appears to have morphology and syntax deficits judging from the grammar used there and throughout the song.

Poster Analysis:

This tweet was posted by Mana Inoue on the visual creation team and showcases the main symbols used in the MV.

Bear in mind, botany isn’t my strong point. In the comment, I claimed they were yellow carnations, which would represent disappointment and rejection. However, they might be a breed of yellow roses, symbolising jealousy. The more I look at them, the more confused I become. It’s not something worth lamenting over though. Both meanings fit with his storyline.

I think the woman with two angels is meant to be a homage to the various depictions of “Madonna and Child with Two Angels”. The ‘Madonna’ represents the mother figure, while the two angels represent Haruka and his brother, vying for her attention.

The blue-green gradient of the poster frame and the dressing table mirror at the centre of the poster reflecting an underwater image both tie in with how he drowned his brother.

The red moon in the background is considered to be a bad omen in fiction, especially when referred to as a ‘blood moon’, but since Haruka is seen to constantly be waking up from nightmares, we can use Freud’s dream interpretations. In this case, the moon is a yonic symbol and would represent Haruka’s desire for maternal affection.

MV Analysis:

Things to point out beforehand:

Haruka is an unreliable narrator. His lyrics, especially, shouldn’t be taken at face value.

The title 『弱肉共食』 is an alteration of the idiom 『弱肉強食』 which translated literally would be ‘The weak are meat, the strong eat’ otherwise known as ‘the law of the jungle’ or ‘survival of the fittest’ in English. However, 『強』 is replaced with 『共』 which represents ‘sameness’, so the go-to translation would be ‘weak meat cannibalism’, but to preserve the nature of the idiom, I’d view it as ‘the weak are meat, eat your kin’.

The original idiom encompasses the notion of ‘competition’, which arises from scarcity. So, why and for what is Haruka competing? Slightly obvious, but it’s attention/affection. He likely viewed it as some sort of rival good i.e. the more the mother figure paid attention to his brother, the less attention Haruka would receive for himself, therefore no brother would equal more attention. Sounds grim, but siblicide isn’t uncommon in the animal kingdom, especially if resources are sparse. This also hints at how Haruka likely had a twin, rather than a younger or older brother since the original would’ve fit just as well were it the latter.

The Japanese subtitles often spell words with hiragana and katakana, where kanji characters would more likely be used. Haruka is around high school age, but, judging from his kanji usage, his comprehension is estimated to be at a sixth grader’s level max. The kanji 『降』 in 『下降』 (kakou/descend) is taught in 6th grade, and the others he uses are taught even earlier. Despite words such as 『僕』 (boku/I) and 『犠牲』 (gisei/sacrifice) being repeated, they’re still written in hiragana. This is probably because they’re normally taught at secondary education, which explains why middle-school level kanji such as 『違』 in 『間違う』 (machigau/to misunderstand) and 『繰』 in 『繰り返す』 (kurikaesu/to repeat) are written with hiragana instead. The implication is that Haruka has learning difficulties—another feature associated with autism.

0:00 It begins with Haruka at a dressing table, implied to be his mother (figure)’s from the cosmetics. The necklace he wears likely belonged to her. Notice its green centre and purple outer layer—those colours are also used for the eyes seen within the MV. This could symbolise his mother (figure) watching over him, and since he wished for her attention, it’d explain why he continues to wear it.

0:05 The reflection in the mirror flickers between Haruka and his twin. This might symbolise how Haruka fears his twin might replace him and highlights their resemblance to one another. The scene transitions to Haruka sinking in a body of water. This water motif suggests that drowning his brother was Haruka’s main sin.

0:20 The drawing of a lady and a boy represents his mother (figure) and his twin—the hand of the boy is outstretched, touching Haruka’s, which implies they were a family of three. He asks why his mother (figure) is distancing herself and if it’s his fault. What might’ve happened was his mother (figure) spent more time outside with his brother, and left Haruka indoors with the assistance dog. His jealousy could’ve clouded his judgment though, and she might’ve spent equal time with them in reality.

Haruka is in the shadows, avoiding the lights, which could imply that he was never in the ‘spotlight’. The assistance dog wears a harness and appears to be a mix between a Labrador and a German Shepherd—both common breeds used for this line of work. There might’ve been more than one dog and Haruka’s memories fused them together.

0:29 The boy smiles brightly. Some claim that this boy is a representation of Haruka’s younger self, but I’m doubtful. His resentful lyrics are at a dissonance with the boy’s cheerfulness. Plus, a major sign of autism in children is ‘not reciprocating a smile’, so it’s unlikely for the little boy to be Haruka. I understand that autism is complicated and surfaces differently according to the individual, but Haruka is fictional, and it’d be logical to assume that his character was written with some of the major signs in mind. Not to mention, the only time we see 17-year-old Haruka smile is at the end of the MV after he’s killed his brother.

0:36 The fire-breathing dragon, according to dream interpretations, symbolises being emotionally overwhelmed. Also, the lyrics ‘the words I tried to say were: “you’re unfair/cowardly”’ are probably directed towards his brother. The implication is that Haruka was jealous of his brother, believing that he ‘made himself look weaker’ to receive more attention, but couldn’t express this through words since his language competence was so low. Consequently, Haruka used rudimentary methods to express himself e.g. physical aggression and crying.

In this scene, Haruka pulls his brother’s shirt collar and his frightened expression as he hesitantly looks up at Haruka implies that he already knows what the repercussions for clinging to their mother (figure) are.

0:39 There’s a monster drawing behind Haruka; this represents Haruka’s self-perception and/or his brother’s perception of him, emphasising how he’s viewed as inhuman.

『ダメ』 [dame] is messy to translate without context. The Japanese subtitles read 『ダメだね』 [dame da ne] but I believe Haruka had misheard his mother (figure) and what she actually said was 『ダメダメ』 [dame dame]. Only one phoneme off. Even though the first could be translated as “You’re hopeless” when used to describe a person, it’s probably a misunderstanding on Haruka’s behalf. In certain contexts or when repeated like this, 『ダメ』 is used to ask someone to stop—a lighter version of 『止めて』 (yamete/stop) and arguably more common. So, his mother (figure) tried telling Haruka to stop bullying his brother i.e. grabbing him and pushing him into puddles etc, but Haruka thought she was insulting him instead. In short, he struggles to understand the contextual use of words.

0:42 “If only I could do what anyone else could do” likely refers to social interactions and the ability to communicate smoothly.

『違った筈の未来は不平等に恋をした』 are the lyrics in a ‘standardised’ form. Some meaning is lost when it’s translated as “The right future unfairly chose the wrong me”, but the translator probably chose it to preserve its ambiguity. A closer version would be “The future, which was supposed to be different, fell in love unequally.” However, 『未来』 (mirai/future) can also be a girl’s name, so it could be translated as “Mirai, who was supposed to be different, fell in love unequally.” Even if that isn’t her name, the gist remains the same—she preferred Haruka’s brother. Some have suggested that she’s their sister, but 『恋をする』 has clear romantic connotations. Doesn’t fully discredit it, but it’s unlikely. Her “falling in love unequally” could be another misunderstanding made by Haruka, which parallels how he viewed the treatment from his mother (figure).

The scene, set as the thumbnail as of now, where Haruka is covering his ears and closing his eyes, depicts him suffering from sensory overload since autism is linked to light and sound sensitivity², and this event takes place at presumably some sort of festival or theme park, judging by the fireworks. He probably still enjoyed the outing since candyfloss is one of his favourite foods.

0:56 His brother steals his girl. What a madlad. As a result, Haruka screams and cries—one of the rudimentary forms of self-expression. This time Haruka uses the verb 『愛する』 [aisuru] a more versatile way of saying ‘to love’, which implies how he craves love in any form.

What was Haruka denying? Many things probably. He thought that his brother was the root problem, everyone was actively against him and he wasn’t at fault, etc.

It's important to note that Haruka has a habit of forming sentences using: noun + 『をする』 or 『をしていた』 in the MV, which is the past progressive. It's sometimes common e.g. 『否定をしていた』 (I was in denial) but other times it's unnatural, such as 『悲鳴をしていた』. 『悲鳴を上げていた』 (himei wo agete ita/I was screaming) is the expected form. It can use 『が』 instead of the 『を』 depending on the context, but it takes 『上げる』 not 『する』.

It's similar to saying "I was doing a scream" You can understand what the speaker is trying to say, but the wording is odd. More of these sentence structures are present later on.

The faces of his mother (figure) and the little girl are scribbled out probably because he can’t remember them or what expressions they made. A simplistic explanation, but ASD is linked with having lower development in face processing³, so it’s likely.

1:04 Haruka is shown shrouded in those yellow flowers. How aesthetic. (Snapchat filter idea?) He then extends his arm towards the girl, but she’s out of his reach—metaphorically. What did Haruka want to confirm? His previously mentioned beliefs. This is why he seems to develop some self-awareness at the end. With his brother out of the picture, there’d be no one else to blame.

1:07 The chorus clarifies that his motive was to gain attention. The 『あっはっは』 is laughter, but I don’t think it’s out of malice. Those with autism often exhibit expressions, which would be considered inappropriate in given social scenarios e.g. laughing at a funeral. I believe that Haruka was frustrated and emotionally overwhelmed, so when he laughed, he was actually trying to weep as he did at the end of the MV.

During the scene where the girl’s shadow is between his hands, no scribbles are present, which represent blood/death. This hints at how he hurt the girl, perhaps by strangulation, but didn’t kill her. Judging from his expression and the round light, probably from a flashlight, he was caught by either a stranger or the authorities.

Some have suggested that he killed the girl as well, however it’d make more logical sense for the severity of repercussions to reflect the severity of his ‘sins’. Why would the authorities later separate his mother (figure) from him after the dog incident, but pardon him for homicide? Things wouldn’t add up.

1:30 A lack of cooperative behaviour, i.e. not sharing or taking turns, is associated with ASD⁴, so if his mother (figure) knew, she might’ve been encouraging the two to share. Another possibility is that Haruka might’ve been diagnosed with anxiety or depression, while his autism went undetected. That scene really bugs me. Can you tell? Either way, Haruka isn’t too happy about it.

His repetition of “I’m fine” implies that he’s brushing off his mother (figure), who’s trying to find out why he’s behaving this way. He misunderstands the word 『外れ』 [hazure]. Another messy word to translate out of context. It roughly means “to miss/be off”. Sometimes you say it when someone answers a question incorrectly or if someone hasn’t gotten the point. To express disappointment, you’d usually say 『期待外れ』 (kitai hazure/not living up to one’s expectations), but the fact that he excluded 『期待』 (kitai/expectation) implies that he’s misunderstood someone again.

His mother (figure) looks at him disagreeably when he tries to explain his viewpoint. This is probably because he views the entire world as being against him.

Haruka lures the dog into the woods and his brother searches for it—having his brother discover the corpse might’ve been his plan as well

He mistakes 『狂ってる』 [kurutteru] for praise. This can mean “You’re crazy”, but there’s neither a subject nor topic marker present, so she could just be saying “this (situation) is insane”. However, this misunderstanding is probably why he continues committing ‘sins’. He’ll take whatever attention he can get, he doesn’t understand the reality of his actions and believes that doing these deeds will make him more ‘human’.

2:00 『犠牲をしていた』is another instance of the aforementioned sentence structuring.『犠牲にしてた』 with the 『に』 particle would be the expected form, which could mean “I was making a sacrifice”. However, I suspect he was trying to say something like 『僕のことを犠牲にしていた』 or 『僕が犠牲になった』 roughly translating to “you did it at my expense” or “it was at my expense”. That would explain why the official translation was “I became a victim”.

“My loneliness was desired” could entail that he wanted to either be an only child or he purposely pushed people away—might explain why he was trying to brush off his mother earlier. It could also be interpreted as “You desired my loneliness”. In that sense, Haruka would be accusing his brother of trying to isolate him from other people.

2:10『下降をしていた』 is translated as ‘I was falling’, but since the subject is omitted, he could also be referring to a multitude of things, such as his well-being, grades, reputation, etc. Again, 『下降していた』 would be the expected form and the verb itself is rarely seen outside of technical reports.『下げる』 (sageru/to lower) or 『落ちる』 (ochiru/to fall) would be more commonly used in the vernacular. I can’t provide a direct equivalent since there’s too little context, but I suspect that Haruka heard/read the word somewhere and assumed it to generally mean ‘to go downwards’.

He goes on to state that his “starting position in life was wrong”; it implies how he’s realised that his way of thinking was innately different from others. We then see the circular light shining over his hands, signifying that the authorities have found out once again.

2:30 Some trippy visuals. The background is a collage of his afterimages. The Haruka-like silhouette might represent how his brother would’ve grown up by this time had Haruka not killed him.

2:40 This is likely the last memory Haruka had of his mother (figure) and an odd one at that—she stands alone, her posture stiff, the line of suspended lamps being the only other item of interest. I think it depicts her being taken to court. Law isn’t my speciality, but the scene composition does resemble the typical layout of a Japanese courtroom. With the mother (figure) at the witness stand, the lamps could either represent the judicial panel or the prosecution/defence. She might’ve been arrested under the suspicion of child abuse since the various incidents of Haruka’s aggression could be regarded as warning signs. Also, if Haruka’s recounts aligned with his lyrics, it wouldn’t aid her case.

Were the authorities instead concerned about Haruka himself, he would’ve been classified as a juvenile. By this time, I suspect his age to be around 5 to 10. Since the Penal Code of Japan provides that the acts committed by those under 14 aren’t punishable, they probably referred the twins to a correctional facility. In this case, their resemblance and/or the dirtying of his brother’s hands likely played a role since Haruka was separated from his mother, but not him. That wouldn’t be possible if Haruka was admitted alone.

In either scenario, their case would’ve been dealt with in a family court. It’s unclear whether she was separated from them during an investigation or because they’d already taken protective measures, but, either way, this was the probably last time they saw her.

2:45 Haruka is probably referring to his mother (figure) at this point in the MV and wonders where she is. After the incident with the dog, she likely had to relinquish her parental responsibility/guardianship. We no longer see those green-purple eyes after she leaves, which could symbolise how she’s no longer there to watch over him. It’s interesting how Haruka cries from his right eye, while the silhouette among the afterimages cries from its left. I think it’s hinting at how the silhouette is not Haruka, but his brother. This may also imply that when they were both alive, they could’ve been mistaken for one another, which could link to the last line of the song, “it was me”.

2:52 In a final attempt to get his mother back or to ‘punish’ his brother, which he thought of as the wrongdoer, Haruka drowns him. His lifeless body, indicated by the scribbles, is soaked and Haruka cries atop of him, realising that his brother wasn’t the problem. From Es’ “Undercover” we can see Haruka pushing his brother, represented by Es, into the water, and his brother gasping for air.

3:28 At the end of the MV, we see the same light, implying that the authorities discovered him once again. Judging by his expression, Haruka finally understands that he was the one at fault. His speech in the background is a repetition of the lyrics without the “ahaha”. From how he speaks, I think the lines 『誰か気づいてよ』 and 『間違っていたのは僕だった』 should instead be treated as a run-on rather than end-stops. And if that’s the case, his spoken lines may be translated as follows: “Please notice me. Someone, please notice that I was the one who was wrong. Yeah, it was me.” It hints at how he not only wants his existence acknowledged, but he also wants someone to understand that his way of thinking is dissimilar to others and especially was during that period. Those last words “yes, it was me” alongside his second file 『申し訳ないなと思っています』 (It’s inexcusable/I feel bad about it) heavily imply that he now understands the reality of his actions and feels remorse.

Drama CD Analysis:

Key points to note:

Haruka fails to understand the complex constructions Es uses at the beginning and struggles to form them as well. Es notices this and uses easier, more straight-forward sentences later in the interview

He stutters and pauses frequently

He fails to recognise the different meanings of homonyms, in this case, 『起きる』 (to happen/wake up)

He uses 『ごめんなさい』 [gomennasai] when 『すみません』 [sumimasen] would be more contextually appropriate. Both can be translated as ‘sorry’, but the former is far heavier, similar to ‘please forgive me’, whereas the latter is lighter, equivalent to ‘excuse me’ or ‘my bad’. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the contextual difference

Haruka puts heavy emphasis on ‘speaking’. This could suggest that he received speech therapy at some sort of psychiatric institution or rehabilitation centre judging from his clothes. Furthermore, he might’ve enjoyed it or he feels at ease when talking to others since he can finally be ‘understood’

More than other prisoners, he seems attached to Yuno and Mahiru, both being young women with warm demeanours. He eagerly mentions them to Es and when he lists the prisoners he often talks to, he immediately states their names again and leaves pause before mentioning others. He likely enjoys female attention because of his desire for maternal affection.

He’s afraid of ‘adults’ like Kazui and Shido. It’s unclear if it’s adults in general or specifically adult men, which would make more sense as there’s no father figure present in the MV

He’s afraid of Amane and claims that children her age evoke bad memories. He also seems to be fiddling his hands during that topic. Probably a coping mechanism. He likely committed all of his sins at an age even younger than hers.

He’s afraid of Kotoko, but honestly who isn’t? It’s strange how Haruka gets along with Futa since Kotoko and Futa both have ‘harsh’ personalities. She might remind him of his mother (figure)

Es comments on how Haruka appears to have a lack of fear and has unnatural responses to given situations e.g. smiling when being interrogated

Haruka has a fear of abandonment, claiming if others were to find out about his wrongdoings, he'd be ‘thrown away’

Extras to note:

His type is AB, associated with being ‘dual-natured’. It highlights how he fluctuates between being weak/reserved and having aggressive outbursts

His horoscope is cancer, a water sign. Links in with how his brother was killed

『遥』 His name is written with the kanji meaning ‘far off’ and ‘distant’

In his profile, Haruka says 『僕は人も殺しています』. Interesting how he attached the 『も』 particle to 『人』 (hito/person) rather than 『僕』 (boku/I). Had he attached it to the latter, it would’ve given the impression that he ��killed someone just like everybody else in the prison’, however, his usage implies that he ‘killed a person as well as something else’. You can work it out, can’t you?

Haruka likely suffers from perpetration-induced traumatic stress (PITS) or perpertator trauma for short. He’s shown to have various PTSD symptoms; for example, nightmares (shown by how he constantly wakes up with a frightened expression on his face in the MV), flashbacks and physical sensations a result of them (both implied in the drama CD). Haruka also seemingly tries to avoid remembering his actions or talking about them, which is another sign of PTSD. We know he dislikes young children since they bring back “bad memories”, so the same likely goes for animals as well. Some sufferers of perpetrator trauma may have nightmares in which they act out the events as the victim rather than the offender. This isn’t as concrete since Haruka and his brother might just look similar, but the boy in the MV could be Haruka in his younger form re-enacting as him. The corpse in the final scene is in the outline of a young boy, but we can’t see his features. Haruka might’ve also forgotten what his brother looked like.

Judgment/Conclusion:

In the future, I’ll probably never be this insistent again, but in Haruka’s case, I’d highly recommend voting “forgive”. I didn’t draw that conclusion out of bias or sympathy; it’s a strategic move. The next set of MVs are based on this trial’s judgment and Jackalope also mentioned in Es’ drama CD (paraphrased): “open up his heart and you’ll hear lots from him”. Therefore, choosing “don't forgive” would likely be to our detriment as the opposite may happen, i.e. he’ll become more reserved or try to suppress his memories even further.

Other than that, there are other valid reasons to vote him as forgivable, e.g. his age, his mental state, his remorse, etc. I suspect some will vote him as unforgivable solely because of the dog incident. After all, the death of an animal tends to evoke a stronger reaction than homicide in fiction... It’s just a hunch.

References:

Tick, B., Bolton, P., Happé, F., Rutter, M. and Rijsdijk, F., 2015. Heritability of autism spectrum disorders: a meta-analysis of twin studies. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 57(5), pp.585-595.

Colman, R., Frankel, F., Ritvo, E. and Freeman, B., 1976. The effects of fluorescent and incandescent illumination upon repetitive behaviours in autistic children. Journal of Autism and Childhood Schizophrenia, 6(2), pp.157-162.

Dawson, G., Webb, S. and McPartland, J., 2005. Understanding the Nature of Face Processing Impairment in Autism: Insights From Behavioral and Electrophysiological Studies. Developmental Neuropsychology, 27(3), pp.403-424.

Centres for Disease Control and Prevention. 2020. Signs & Symptoms | Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) | NCBDDD | CDC. [online] Available at: <https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/autism/signs.html

#I've replayed the song so many times that I've forgotten how lovely it actually sounds #might buy that lap pillow off Yuno now #haruka sakurai #haruka #milgram #ミルグラム考察 #ミルグラム #deco*27 #theory #弱肉共食 #桜井遙

81 notes · View notes

rwdestuffs · 3 years

Text

There’s a lot of ironwood stans and a lot of ironwood haters out there. Now, to be fair, one’s opinion on the guy is likely dependent on that person’s view of the real-world military, as well as their own opinion of the writing in general.

Due to the… let’s be nice and use the phrase “lackluster writing”, ironwood is a very polarizing character. One can see his view on wanting to save people, but once a single chess price shows up, he loses it, and plans to abandon all of Remnant.

Keep in mind that the main characters have no reason to trust him. Not only has atlasian forces been around Mantle for a long time, causing distress and by extension, attracting Grimm, but ironwood seems to have no interest in using any atlas resources to build the communications tower. He only expends atlas military resources to protect it. Everything else comes from Mantle, including the time and energy of their best protector.

It took a submission post [here] to kinda spell it out:

The writing is so bad that we aren’t entirely sure if we should be sympathetic to ironprick or not. Given that I am calling him ironprick, you can probably tell where I lie on that whole thing.

Our own views of the US military has kinda skewed our view of ironwood and the atlasian military, so, let’s try to take a much more objective look at what they do, and how it either makes ironwood a tragic character, or a downright villainous one.

The discussion as to how the show has more or less demonized characters with prosthetics, has been done better in this post [here].

Our first introduction to Atlas in general is honestly… not that great. in this post [here], we see that right off the bat, Atlas is… well, sus. Their resident robot girl is “combat ready” and while this seems like an innocent line in this world, it makes one wonder “Why would she need to state that?”

In addition, with the SDC being a major point for resident racist turned un-racist off=screen, Weiss, the view of Atlas is already not that great. And as a quick tangent, but can we at least have mention of an apology? Like, just a random line of dialogue that tells us, yes, Weiss did in fact apologize? If these writers can’t resolve that conflict on-screen, the least they could do is give us the details of what happened off-screen.

With that rant done, it’s pretty clear that Atlas is either full of a bunch of trigger-happy gun-toting military personnel, or that they seem to be gearing up for a war with the rest of the world.

In Volume 2, we also get the reveal that Penny isn’t allowed to have social interaction, and that her status as an android is kept secret for unknown reasons. Had this show gone in the route of “Penny would absorb the Fall Maiden powers, but we run into the philosophical question of ‘She is also a living being, should she not also have a say in how her future is determined?’“, then that would have made sense.

In this Volume, and in Volume 3, we see that not only is the Ozluminati willing to sacrifice a young girl and rob her of her dreams, but that Atlas isn’t willing to expend any resources for her sake either.

With Volume 4, we kinda get a sort of insight into Ironwood and Jacques’ relationship. Jacques more or less tries to play the “I’m your friend” card with Ironwood. Given Jacques’ easily recognizable racism, it’s telling that Ironwood kept him as good company until he decided on an embargo, which, really only hurt the rest of the world. Ironwood wasn’t protecting anyone, he was trying to hold onto resources.

This is further exemplified in Volume 7, where, as mentioned earlier, he is taking Mantle’s resources to fuel his own pet project… And we later find out that that pet project was a total lie, as it turns out, it was just bait to lure out one of Shadow Queen’s minions.

We then see this all culminate in Volume 8, where Ironwood starts working with Watts to get payback on Penny for betraying him. His dialogue mirrors a lot of rhetoric that an abuser would use to try to coerce their victim to their side. And his casual discard of Penny is honestly something to take note of. Ironwood doesn’t value differing opinions. He never wanted anyone who would question him. He wanted loyalty. If he had his way, he would have installed Order 66 in all Atlasian troops to make them turn on any hunter that wasn’t loyal to him.

All of Volume 8 happened because he saw that his supposedly perfect defenses weren’t so perfect after all. And instead of resolving to try to do better once they expelled the intruder, he instead turns on the main heroes for not trusting him.

Now here comes the next question:

Should have team RWBY trusted ironwood from the start?

Now, we as the audience know that all of that stuff about Ironwood makes him look suspicious. But what do the characters know? Well, Weiss knows that they’re a bunch of militaristic assholes who refused to help her or her family escape from her abusive father even though one of their top specialists was her sister.

Ruby and Yang likely have a poor view on Atlas and Ironwood in general thanks to their conversations with Qrow.

And Blake knows that they’re basically the racism capital of the world.

As for team JNOR, their experiences likely come from how team rwby acts. With them being so close, and adding the fact that all of them got arrested for fighting grimm when they first arrived, their views are also negative.

On top of which, Ironwood is the headmaster of Atlas Academy. The last headmaster they trusted (Leo) stabbed them in the back, and the one before that (Oz) lied to them about their mission, so they have every right to be suspicious of Ironwood. They don’t exactly have a good track record with these headmasters.

So clearly, with what both the audience knows, and with what the characters know, their lack of trust in Ironwood was not misplaced.

With all that said and done, let’s dive into the final question of this post:

Is Ironwood a sympathetic villain?

As a blunt answer, yes. As an equally blunt answer, no.

Ironwood is a human character who is in charge of a military force. He hasn’t had to deal with racism like Ilia, Blake, or Velvet, but he also has been through a lot of battles if his large amount of prosthetics is to be seen.

Ironwood clearly has not had the world be kind to him, but by contrast, he hasn’t been kind to the world. As for which came first, is up to interpretation, but the point of the matter still stands: Ironwood was acting like a dictator.

Now, is his horribly described semblance Mettle to blame for this? Well, let’s think for a moment as to how it would have affected the story if we had known about it beforehand. Either in an interview, or because (in this hypothetical scenario) the writers were smart and had maybe Qrow try to talk him down by saying something like “James, calm down. You’re letting your semblance talk for you” really doesn’t matter. Let’s ask ourselves: How would knowing his semblance beforehand had affected our view of this?

Simply put, it would make us sympathetic to him, until we see his aura break and that he’s still going on his main goal of ditching all of Remnant and being selfish. It would have informed us that it wasn’t just Mettle driving Ironwood, Ironwood had that sort of thing in him the entire time, but he reached a breaking point. It’s been said that “people go from 0 to 60 over one little thing” but really, that’s not true. People don’t just go “from 0 to 60.″ People just don’t pay attention to how long a person has been at 59. And quite frankly, Ironwood was doing an admittedly good job at hiding how long he was at 59. He was constantly calm, cool, and collected in a lot of stressful situations, like when he had to confront the rest of the council.

But we also know that he was locking up dissenters. Labeling them as “traitors” and more or less, acting like he knew best. Plus, we know that he was doing a lot of questionable things in the past that makes a lot of his actions rather dubious at best.

But, once we view this with the view of the US Military, which Atlas is based on, intentionally or not, we kinda see something. Not some “grand protectors of the border and ideology of the country” but a bunch of power-hungry generals willing to throw bodies just to get their way, only for them to be unprepared when they are the ones who get invaded. And for them to basically be the fuel that gives their supposed enemies their power to cause so much destruction. Atlas was already at a breaking point. All Salem and her forces did was just add that one little extra bit of weight that caused it to all come crashing down.

In this case, literally.

#rwde #ironwood crit

4 notes · View notes

squidbatts · 4 years

Text

to be charming and smart and disarming

“How did you meet Uncle Amethar?” Jet asks as Calroy tucks her into bed, and Ruby perks up ever so slightly from across the room.

The appeal for storytime is a delaying tactic that would’ve worked wonderfully on Amethar, might’ve even stopped Caramelinda if they caught her in an especially sentimental mood, but the girls have miscalculated; Calroy keeps moving forward so he never has to think about days gone by.

or: four lies calroy purposefully told (and one time he told the truth by accident)

((i once again return with an offering of this super niche au. warnings for fratricide, non graphic violence, poisoning, and calroy-typical manipulation. please enjoy!))

{ao3}

one.

Liam Wilhelmina is a slight boy, all of his mother's sweetness and none of his father's strength, and he flinches when Calroy asks him if he’s enjoying Castle Candy.

“It’s nice,” He says, then, quick like he’s afraid he’ll get in trouble, “Not that I don’t miss my family! I love the Mountains, I love my mom, it’s just… my brothers…” He sighs and trails off. Calroy puts a hand on his shoulder and keeps his posture open, warm and supportive and very interested in what Liam might say about his brothers, if it’ll match the rumors of unrest that Calroy’s heard. Regretfully, Liam just turns his over-wide eyes up at Calroy and asks, “Do you have siblings?”

“I did, once. Seven big brothers,” Calroy offers, holding back a satisfied smirk when Liam perks up; few things are immediately bonding as being the youngest, and Calroy’s sure that he’s won Liam over. “But, you know, a lot of things changed during the War.”

(~~~)

Loose ends need to be cut, and there is no looser end for Calroy than his family. Not that there’s much to clean up: his father and second brother died of sickness when Calroy was still young, the War took four more of them, and his mother disappeared shortly before Calroy joined the War effort himself, when stories of Ceresia closing in began to drift to their town. He’s always imagined that she, widowed and miserable, went back to beg shelter with her Ceresian family, but Calroy doesn’t particularly care what happened to her as long as she stays away from him. Which, of course, leads him to his current issue.

“Aren’t you going to even pretend to be happy to see your favorite brother?” Delroy asks, grinning like he didn’t show up unannounced after three years of radio silence. Luckily, Calroy was able to keep him away from Amethar and convince him to go back to his inn rather than speak in the Castle, but it’s still a headache. They sit in a darkened corner of the inn’s tavern and Calroy tries to ignore the stickiness of his seat and the smell of wet fur and stale cola that permeates the room.

“What do you want.” Calroy says, voice flat. It’s not a question, because he knows what his brother wants, what anyone raised with the values of his mother would want from their newly royal sibling. He just wants to make Delroy say it out loud.

Delroy leans back and takes a long pull from his drink, eyes darting around Calroy’s clothes, lavish even when he’s actively dressing down. Delroy, on the other hand, looks much the same as he did when they were younger -- meticulously patched clothes in cheap fabrics, hair long and unruly, thick scar from a harvesting accident slicing the line of his jaw and immobilizing the left corner of his mouth.

“What do you think I want? My baby brother’s the Prince of Candia, aren’t I allowed to come calling for a little royal assistance?”

“And what do you mean by that?” Calroy asks instead of leaving, even though he hates the look in Delroy’s eyes; it’s all entitlement and surety, like he thinks this is acceptable and that Calroy owes him something just because he’s sixteen minutes older than Calroy.

“A title, ideally,” Delroy says. Mead sloshes out of his flagon when he slams it back on the table, looking at Calroy with twinkling eyes. “Or, you know, we are nearly identical. I bet if I cut my hair and got all dolled up like you, your loverboy wouldn’t even know the- urk.”

Calroy’s dagger is out and between Delroy’s ribs before Calroy even realizes he’s moving, and Calroy’s mouth falls open with shock at the same time that Delroy’s does. Delroy’s wide eyes start to go unfocused but he keeps them on Calroy’s as his mouth twitches back into that infuriating smile.

“Yeah, should’ve known that was a shade too far,” He says weakly, lips flecked with blood, “You always were the most like mom.”

Calroy’s face falls into a scowl at the comparison. He lifts a hand to cover Delroy’s mouth before twisting the blade and pulling it out. He feels his brother’s breath slow and eventually stop, and then he wipes his dagger on Delroy’s shirt, leans back, and picks up Delroy’s drink.

He can spare the time for a calming drink because from anywhere else in the room it will just look like Delroy’s passed out drunk. And, even if it didn’t, who’d accuse the Prince of Candia of murdering his kin?

two.

“How did you meet Uncle Amethar?” Jet asks as Calroy tucks her into bed. Ruby perks up ever so slightly from across the room.

“Your uncle saved my life during the war,” Calroy says. He pushes Jet’s eager little head down onto her pillow and presses a kiss to her hairline, ignoring her complaints and doing the same to Ruby as he crosses the room. “Maybe, if you're both good little princesses who don’t try to sneak into the armory tonight, I’ll tell you the story tomorrow.”

(~~~)

There are many differences between selling weapons to Ceresia and leading Ceresian troops into Candian territory, but the main one for Calroy is that he signed up for one of those things, and most emphatically did not for the other. And yet, here he is, leading five soldiers towards the Candian camp. The soldiers are the worst kind, tall and broad-shouldered, looking down their noses at Calroy even though they need him, and they keep talking. They’re not particularly loud but in the dead of night and the middle of a war, any unnecessary noise is too much.

“We’re getting close, you should quiet down,” Calroy says, and the leader of the group snorts.

“No offense, sweetheart, but we know how to run an ambush.”

Then why did you make me lead you in here, Calroy doesn’t say. He just grips the dagger in his fist a little tighter, imagines the way it’d feel to remove the man’s tongue from his mouth, and reminds himself what the offered payout for this mission is. They get within twenty feet of the camp when Calroy hears the sound of sure, steady footsteps heading towards them. He tries to gesture for the soldiers to stop but they ignore him and walk directly into the path of Prince Amethar Rocks.

Fuck, Calroy thinks just as Prince Amethar says, “What the hell?”

It’s a lucky break for Prince Amethar, Calroy thinks as he tries to figure out an action plan -- wherever he had been coming from, his sword was already in hand, while Calroy’s companions were cocky enough to not even be on alert. It’s barely accurate to call it a fight with how thoroughly Prince Amethar destroys the Ceresians. When Prince Amethar is done and the bodies lay on the ground, he turns towards Calroy. Calroy stealthily drops his dagger and steps out of the shadows, endeavoring to look as harmless as possible.

“Hey, you’re one of ours, right?” Prince Amethar asks, lowering his sword like being on the same side has ever protected anyone.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Calroy says, hoping that the prince won’t follow foreign soldiers in my camp and Candian I’ve never met before to the correct conclusions.

Prince Amethar’s brow furrows and he looks Calroy up and down. He frowns. “You shouldn’t go out without your sword. You could��ve been in real trouble with those guys if I hadn’t come along!”

Calroy’s face slackens in disbelief, just for a second, before he fixes it into something appropriately appreciative. “You’re absolutely right, Your Highness, you’ve saved my life today.”

“Ha, guess I did,” Prince Amethar grins disarmingly. Calroy is caught off guard for the third time that night. “Anyway, enough of the ‘your highness’ stuff, alright? Just call me Amethar.”

“I- okay, Amethar,” Calroy says, enjoying the way the word rolls off his tongue, how Prince Amethar Rocks’ foolish trust tastes in his mouth. “But only if you’ll call me Calroy.”

three.

“My job is to guard the king.” Theobald Gumbar says even as he obediently follows Calroy, tone professional and steady like he spent hours in front of the mirror practicing it. It’s admirable, Calroy thinks, that Sir Theobald is still trying his stoic, stuck-up best to be respectful despite his obvious dislike of Calroy.

“Your job is to be Lord Commander of the Tartguard, which means that the protection of Castle Candy and everyone in Candia rests in your hands,” He pauses, lets that really sink in. Sir Theobald values nothing more than honor and responsibility, even when those duties require him to take orders from Calroy. “I applaud your dedication to the King but I assure you, Sir Theobald, that all that I do is for the preservation of House Rocks.”

(~~~)

Calroy prefers assassinations to ambushes, doesn’t like the mess or the dramatics of brute force attacks, which is why he only brings Sir Theobald along when he needs to seem dangerous; Calroy is more lethal on his own then his husband’s teddy bear of a favorite knight could ever be, but every minor lord in Calorum doesn’t need to know that. He has his own personal Tartguardsman, of course, but Sir Quincy doesn’t cut as imposing a figure as Theobald, and Calroy needs imposing when he visits House Whipperly.

Lady Valencia Whipperly is a fierce figure, with a swirl of white hair and the kind of posture that's bred into old Candian nobility, stubborn and proud and the only thing blocking the ratification of Calroy’s trade proposal with Fructera. To Lady Whipperly’s credit, the trade proposal isn’t great for Candia; the tariffs are too great for it’s few benefits but it will mean that at least three Fructeran nobles will owe Calroy a personal debt, and Calroy cares more about collecting favors than he does about Candian merchants, as does most of the Candian Court. Calroy doesn’t understand why Lady Whipperly won’t get with the program, but that’s why he’s come to visit Lady Whipperly’s less impressive, more easily swayed partner -- Ruthie Nougallo. She welcomes them with grace but Calroy can see her hands tremble as she politely curtseys to him.

“My apologizes, Your Highness, but my wife won’t be back for quite a few days,” Ruthie says as she leads Theobald and Calroy to her parlor. Calroy waves a hand dismissively and grins, just sharp enough to be scary.

“You misunderstand, I’ve come to speak to you,” Calroy says as he sits on one of the room’s couches. Ruthie’s legs begin to shake as well. “You see, I think we could help each other.”

“Help each other?”

“Mhm. Sir Theobald, the door if you’d please?” The look Theobald sends Calroy could freeze lava cake, but he goes nonetheless, far enough away that he won’t be able to truly hear Calroy with the bonus of blocking the room’s only exit with his size. Ruthie settles down next to Calroy when he pats the couch but she's nervously shooting looks at Theobald the whole time. Calroy grins. “Now, I understand that you alone can sway that lovely wife of yours. She’s a bit stubborn, hm?”

“Oh! I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t be silly, dear, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Calroy says, patronizing enough that Ruthie flinches, “Let me tell you a secret: my husband is a bit stubborn too.”

Ruthie’s eyes widen but she smiles, just a bit. Hook. “Is he?”

“Yes. Sometimes, even if he knows that something will be good for us, he's refuses it just because he doesn’t want to change his original opinion. I’m sure you know how that is.”

“Oh, absolutely! Last month, a Fructeran noble sent us some wonderful looking wine but Valencia refused it because she thought it was a bribe,” Ruthie says, leaning in conspiratorially. Line.

“What a shame! You know, good wine is so difficult to get these days. It would be easier if I could get approval on a trade deal with Fructera, but,” Calroy sighs deeply, almost too dramatic for his tastes but Ruthie eats it right up. “Your Valencia isn’t a fan of it. It’s really a tragedy, just imagine all the delicacies we could get shipped in if we had a true trade deal with Fructera. Why, House Rocks could have wine and fruitcake at every session of Court!”

“Every session of court…” Ruthie licks her lips almost absentmindedly and her smile grows. Sinker. “I’ll talk to Valencia. I’m sure I can bring her around on this.”

Calroy claps once, lets his true sense of accomplishment show in his smile. “Wonderful! I just knew you would be reasonable, Ruthie.”

four.

“You almost had me that time,” Amethar says as he offers Calroy a hand up. The training yard is deserted except for the two of them, no one else wanting to brave the stifling heat of the midday sun for something as exhausting as sparring. Amethar, of course, flourishes in situations like this, unflustered and delighted even with sweat dripping down his sharp jaw. “Where’d you learn to fight like that anyway?”

Calroy uses wiping his sweat as an excuse to hide the annoyed twist of his brow. Trust his King to not leave well enough alone. “Oh, you know, here and there. Mostly the war.”

(~~~)

Calroy's days in Muffinfield Manor go like this: he wakes up, he runs through sword forms with Lord Cruller before dawn, he helps Lady Cruller plan events or take notes in meetings for the majority of the day, then eats a meager dinner alone in his room and goes to bed. When House Cruller put out a notice looking for a page, Calroy jumped at the opportunity: anything, truly anything, would be better than another season sweating through his clothes as he worked his family’s fields. And here, he has his own room, his own space, and the affection of the Crullers, who desperately needed an outlet for their parental instincts after their daughter and only heir ran away months ago.

It’s all worked out exceptionally well for Calroy, especially when it comes to his swordsmanship training.

“Your stance is too stiff,” Lord Cruller says, rapping his sword against Calroy’s locked knee. Calroy obediently bends, tries to recall and perfectly mimic the flowing movements that Lord Cruller has shown him, but the man’s sigh tells him that he’s failed. “I can hear you thinking, boy. You’re too stuck in your head. Don’t be too worried about the next move to get started on this one.”

“Sorry, Lord Cruller,” Calroy says, rote. Lord Cruller sighs again.

“You're too defensive. Someone with the brawn to back it up can stay still and let their opponent wear themselves out, but for a little thing like you? The best defense is a good offense. You have to move, kid,” Lord Cruller punctuates his words with a firm pat to the center of Calroy’s back, causing Calroy to stumble forward from the force. “Strike faster than they can strike you. In this world, it’s either eat or be eaten.”

“Yes, Lord Cruller, thank you, Lord Cruller,” Calroy dutifully replies, and he holds the advice close to his chest as he tips the poison his mother sent into Lord Cruller’s goblet that evening. Strike first, strike fast, and no one else can hurt you.

truth.

Far-flung countryman, I have received news of your upcoming nuptials. I know I have encouraged you to lean into his affection in the past, and even now I think of how easily all of this can be woven into our plans, but I can't help but wonder how quickly affairs of the heart can sour. Have you any worry that things could become messy for you?

Worry is the furthest thing from my mind, as I have apt reason to believe that he is firmly devoted to me. Yesterday morning, he called me the “guiding light of his life” simply because I recalled a name for him. It’s almost too easy at this point.

And what of you, friend? Have you become similarly attached to our dear Stone?

(~~~)

Calroy huffs a quiet laugh as he reads Senator Ciabatta’s most recent note in the halls of Castle Candy, delivered to him moments ago by a particularly harried and nervous-looking messenger. Calroy should technically be in his bedroom right now -- a lovely advisor’s suite near the guests’ wing, almost halfway across the castle -- but he welcomed today’s dawn from inside the King’s chambers and he can only imagine how many places the poor boy checked before deciding to risk insulting the King, the honor of the King’s intended, and possibly the entirety of the Court.

Not, Calroy muses as he returns to Amethar’s bedroom, that Calroy’s honor needs any protection; besides that fact that he’s no blushing maiden, Amethar invited Calroy back to his room for simple cuddling. Even when Calroy tried to initiate more, Amethar had simply turned heated kisses into slow and soft things that made Calroy’s stomach turn with their sweetness, yawned and took Calroy’s hand in his own when Calroy began to slide it down Amethar’s chest, wrapped his heavy arm around Calroy’s waist only to pull him close enough that Calroy could hear the steady beat of Amethar’s heart and feel the rumble of his every snore. Even now, a shiver runs down Calroy’s spine at the memory, mouth twisting with- well, with annoyance, mostly, and confusion. Who invites their intended to their rooms and then refuses to sleep with him? Amethar Rocks was truly, bafflingly ridiculous, even if his fondness for Calroy was extraordinarily useful. It’s with that in mind that he stops at Amethar’s desk to pen a quick response to Ciabatta.

My dear ally, have you not heard? I am the Stone’s dearest friend, and he is the love of my life. It’s all people can talk of these days. I thank you for your concern but I assure you, I will be fine, Calroy writes, underlining with a flourish. He hopes Ciabatta will get a laugh from the glimpse of how the Candian Court sees Calroy, as Calroy does every time he hears someone whispering about the romance of him and Amethar. He folds the letter for later just as Amethar groans from the bed.

“Cal?” He calls, voice sleep-rough and eyes only half-open. Calroy crosses the room in easy steps and settles himself on the edge of the bed, allowing Amethar to lay his head across Calroy’s lap. “Where’d you go?”

Calroy slants a hand over Amethar’s eyes to protect them from the weak sunlight spilling into the room and Amethar hums in appreciation. Something in Calroy’s chest tightens, like a gourdian knot that he can't begin to consider untying. “There was a letter to receive.”

“Court stuff?” Amethar asks, tone not quite whining but close enough that Calroy’s eye almost twitches. He hums noncommittally and pretends to listen as Amethar complains about how early in the morning he is expected to begin working.

A little lie, after all, never hurt anyone.

#calroy cruller #a crown of candy #acoc #crown of candy #dimension 20 #prince consort calroy #one shot

33 notes · View notes