#elsh says
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Handler instructed me to fish out information from Director Gorey who bumped into the Desmonds a few days ago. The hospital director is such a simpleton and since I helped him out one time from being "arrested", he surely won't decline my invitation to have a drink with me. And so I bought some fancy liquor to loosen his mouth. I even bought three bottles of it. I'm sure I put them somewhere in a safe place so how come there's an empty flask of it sitting on the counter? I feel stupid for being forgetful these past few days. I tried to recall when was the last time I checked up on it.
Didn't I put this in the uppermost shelf? I remember seeing all three bottles when I cooked dinner last night. And it's not likely that Yor would open the second compartment since she still doesn't know how to cook pasta. Then how did…?
I froze.
Wait… Could it be…?!
*banging sounds on the wall
The sound came not far off.
"Why ish evwything shpinning? Oww…"
At the sound of her slurred speech, I put the empty flask on the table and quickly rushed to Yor. I found her staggering while trying to get to the door. She's in worse shape than she was during breakfast.
I'm relieved that I still have something to give to the director but what I have now is a repeated predicament, that is, a drunk Yor. And the fact that she is sick doesn't help at all.
"Yor? Yor? Are you okay?"
"Loid? Hm? Why there'sh two of you?! How you dooo that?!"
"Please listen, Yor." I said as I grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Yesh?"
"Did you drink the alcohol? The one beside the milk?"
"Nonono, no! I dibn't dwink alcohool. I jush dwank the hewbal tonic that Shawon gave me. She shed itsh bitter but good bor febewr."
"No, Yor. You took the wrong bottle. It was alcohol!"
"Hm? You mush be jowking, Roid…"
I knew it! How stupid of me to forget that I put it in the fridge before cooking breakfast? Sloppy, Twilight! Sloppy!
*quick footsteps
"Mama! Mama! What happened to Mama?" Anya ran to us and asked.
"I think… she drank some alcohol instead of herbal tonic."
"Mama also drinks alcohol when she's sick?"
"No. Like I said, she accidentally drank alcohol. She took the wrong bottle. Anyway, can you please open Yor's door?"
"Oui."
I was about to drape her arm over my shoulder but she suddenly pulled out her hand.
"N-no, no, Roid! I can walk! Y-you down't neeb to ashisht me!" She said while violently shaking her head.
Then she tried her best to skim the wall with her palm while trying to walk. At first she was fine but when she kept on staggering, I held out my hand to her.
"Let me help you."
"I can't twouble you!!"
"You can hold my hand."
"Mama can also hold mine!" Anya came back to us and grabbed Yor's hand.
Yor also took mine and we walked slowly towards her room. I thought the difficult ordeal was done but once we're inside, we had a hard time making her stay.
"I musht go to work or I wiw be late…"
"No, you can't go. You're sick! Please rest for today."
"I'm shick? No, no, no! I neeb to work or elsh we'll hab no food tomowow… Shoes… I neeb my shoes! Shoes! Where you?! Shoes!"
She started flailing her arms around, almost throwing out her beddings and random items.
"Anya! Stay back!" I blurted out as I tried to hold Yor's arms down.
Bond was also quick to respond, putting himself in front of Anya.
Is it because of the alcohol or because she's ill? I've never really seen Yor get sick so this is probably the first time. If she's the type to become stubborn when sick, then this is not good. She'll be hard to reason with. And the alcohol made it worse. Although her sickness weakened her body, she can still land a hit and send things flying. I can't simply let Anya near.
"Mama is sick and drunk…"
"Yor! You need to rest and get well. You want to go to work right?" I asked when I finally got a hold of her.
Thankfully she relaxed.
"Hgn… Yesh. I want to wowk an' buy Anya a shack ob peanutsh!"
"Wow! Peanuts! Mama you have to get well soon!" I heard Anya say as she took a few steps forward to us.
When I saw Yor remain calm, I let Anya a little closer.
"Mama, you have to rest so we can eat peanuts together."
"Yesh, Anya. I'll resht."
▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎
I made sure that Yor took her medicine before going out and I ordered Bond to be on guard. I just wore a coat over me and took Anya downstairs to accompany her while waiting for the school bus. After some time, I felt her staring at me.
"What is it?"
"Is Mama hoing to be okay?"
"Of course. She just needs to rest and she'lll recover. You don't need to worry. Just focus during class and behave well if you want Yor to buy you a sack of peanuts."
"Okey-dokey."
Tests are around the corner again. I need to be strict with her lessons even more. But I don't want her to end up locking herself again if she hits a wall. What's important is that I give a high-value reward if she ever passes. Hm… Maybe the latest Spywars mock goggles will do. Well, it's much rarer than-
"Papa!" She suddenly started.
"Yes?"
"Becky says the tests will be super hard. Papa, I need extreme, super-duper hard study mode. I have to pass the test for Bo-"
What "Bo?"
She suddenly stopped speaking so I turned to her in confusion.
"You seem overly motivated all of a sudden." I said, which made her jolt and become fidgety.
"Ah… Because I… I want to ace the test like Bondman. Hm-hm, for Bondman." She said with a nod.
"Okay, I see. That's good. Let's start studying later."
The school bus finally pulled over and so it was time for her to leave. I reminded her to be good as I always do, hoping even more for her to make progress with befriending Damian.
"Bye-bye Papa."
"Take care."
Once the bus rolled away, I turned heel and headed back. As I climbed the stairs, I contemplated what to do. I have to hurry up and go to work.
There will be a board meeting later and although I'm pessimistic about getting valuable information at all, it wouldn't hurt to eavesdrop. Perhaps I should also try volunteering to record the minutes for direct interaction. Then in the afternoon, I'll stop by the HQ and report to Handler.
I reached our doorstep and I remembered what's waiting for me again.
What do I do with Yor? She's sick and drunk. Do I leave her alone or-
"Gah!"
"Wewcome home Loid… How wash wowk? Anya ish shtill at shcool you shee…"
My soul almost left me upon seeing Yor. She's wearing a bizarre combination of work and home clothes.
"Yor! Weren't you in your bed?" I asked in surprise.
"Hm? What you shaying? Oh… no time to weysht, I hab to go to shupermawket. Hab to buy detewgent…" Her slurred speech trailed off as she attempted to walk past me.
I immediately stopped her and dragged her back in. I quickly locked the door. It will do no good if our neighbors see Yor like this.
"Gosh! The wife was carzy!"
"I never knew she was a brazen alcoholic!"
"So improper!"
I shuddered at what they might possibly say.
Calm down, Twilight!
I was thinking whether to leave her here or not. Now the answer is simply obvious. I can't.
She's like a walking bomb right now and she's likely to wreak havoc if left alone. Even if I do lock her up, she'll tear it down easily and find her way out.
My fingers unconsciously pressed to my temples. With a sigh, I faced Yor only to find out that she's already out of sight.
"Yor? Where are you?"
"Borf!"
Bond turned to the kitchen and I did the same.
I found Yor lying on the kitchen floor. I let out another sigh before I raised her up. Before I could carry her, I felt her move a little.
"Hmmph… Loid?"
"Are you awake? You'll sleep better in your bed. You shouldn't sleep on the floor. Can you stand?"
She giggled.
She giggled.
It was a surprise for me. This is probably the most drunk that she has ever been. I know she's bright and cheerful but not bubbly like this. Like she's bringing out a childish side of her. What surprised me even more, is how she locked her arms around my neck without me noticing.
This woman is simply full of surprises. And I'm sure it wouldn't be so bad if she was my rea-
"Borf!"
Seriously. What was I thinking just now?
Finally snapping back, I only realized now that we're both stuck in this position for too long. I'm not even sure if she's trying to hug me or strangle me. Either way, it's getting uncomfortable.
"Can't wok. I'm sowwy for the twoble but… can you… pwease cawy me?"
Her breath is hot on my skin. Her complexion doesn't look good. Alarmed with the rise of her fever, I carried Yor to her room.
"Okay, Yor. Can you please stay here for a while?"
"Hm?"
"I need to get you ice pack and cool water. While I'm doing that, can you change your clothes? You're sweating a lot. Uhm… Please change into your nightgown."
I left her to gather what I needed. Before I could head back to Yor's bedroom, she's already out with pillow and blanket in arms. Thankfully, she wore her nightgown as told.
"Why didn't you stay in your room? Let's go back and place this on you."
"I don't wanna be all by mysewf."
Huh?! What's with her all of a sudden?
"But it's better for you to be in your room. You won't be able to re-"
Without listening to me, she flopped down the sofa and lied. I brought over the bowl to the table and placed the cold towel on her forehead.
"You think I will get well?" I suddenly heard her ask in a serious voice, almost void of all drunkenness.
"Of course."
I guess I better give word that I can't go to work today.
When I saw that Yor is finally sound asleep, I dialed the hospital and asked for Nightfall.
"Yes, Dr. Forger?"
"Hello, Fiona? I won't be coming to work today."
It took a lot of convincing for Nightfall to stay at her post and not to bother to come here. When I told her that I had to take care of my drunk wife, her voice became icier. Nightfall couldn't possibly think that I'm slacking off, could she ? I made it clear to her that what I do is for the sake of my mission.
"Observe the board meeting for me. Also, please let her know too. I can't stop by for today."
"Yes, sir."
I ended the call and heaved a sigh. I turned to Yor and recooled her towel. As I placed it down her forehead, I can't help but stare at her face. She looks tired. She probably overworked herself.
But the dark circles under her eyes didn't make her any less beautiful.
"Borf."
I snapped back upon hearing Bond beside me.
"Ugh, I'm staring too much."
To occupy myself, I did some cleaning. Then I took out documents I need to review for future missions. I also planned out the lessons for Anya to study. I lost track of time and before I knew it, it's almost noon.
"Hnn…"
Yor just woke up and sat straight slowly. Then I heard a soft grumble.
"Oopsh… Shorry for dat."
"Don't worry, it's fine. I'll cook lunch. Is there anything you want?"
"Enetheng ish fine. Enetheng you cook ish delicioush."
I know she's still drunk but her words still take me by surprise.
"O-Okay. How about rice porridge?"
Might as well cook something good for her.
"Yesh, pleash." She replied with a smile.
And so I started preparing all the ingredients. Yor seated herself and watched me, her arms leaning on the table's edge. Numerous times she asked if she could at least do some chopping but I rejected and insisted for her to remain seated. Then I put the washed rice to boil. While waiting, I chopped off green onions.
"So hot…" She murmured.
For the second time, again, she sounds sober.
"What? Do you feel hot? You want some air or cool water?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"You. You're hot. So handsome even when cooking."
*sharp sound of slicing
I was taken aback and almost cut myself. I know that I'm beet red right now, red upto the ears. Barely composing myself, I turned away for a moment.
Yor… Why do you keep attacking me like this?!
▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎
After cooking, comes eating. Unsurprisingly, her slurred speech came back. But I was relieved to see that Yor has appetite enough to finish a bowl and ask for seconds. Since I'm also done eating, I took a seat beside her, in case she needed assistance. While she's busy eating, I noticed her hair slipping off her ear.
My hand moved in a flash and tucked Yor's hair back again. The both of us froze and stared at each other for a moment.
Loid- No, Twilight?! What was that?
Then she smiled.
"Thenksh Loid. Youwr shuch a gud hushband." I heard her say.
It warmed me up inside but at the same time I feel so pained.
I'm not her husband. In a real sense.
I can't help but leave my seat and get myself away. To distract myself, I looked for spare hair tie in the drawers before going back to her side.
"Here. You can tie your hair with this."
"Hmm? 'Kay."
I wanted to let her be but when I saw her struggle and did a mess out of her hair, I decided to just do it myself. She did not protest. I started by removing rice grains that got stuck and detangled her hair a little. She paused eating and flinched slightly whenever the tips of my fingers grazed over her forehead and ears. A part of me is itching to comb her hair smooth but then I find the idea as something overboard. In the end I just tied it loosely as to not trap heat in her head. I sat again beside her as she resumed eating.
"Do you like the it?" I asked, resting my head on my knuckles.
"I like it sho much! Thenksh, Loid!" She said and beamed a smile.
I find myself smiling too.
▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎
*water splashing
Good thing, I don't have extra missions on my plate right now. I'll be able to focus on Yo-
"Why you doing dishesh?"
"Ah!"
I'm surprised by her sudden appearance again. She was literally in front of me a while ago. How come she's here now?!
"Yor! Why do you keep on surprising me?!"
"Showwy. I jush thought you were gone."
"No. I'm not leaving. Why are you here?"
"I jush came out ob the batwoom."
It doesn't seem like she has any plan to go back and so I let her watch me for some time. Eventually, she went back and lied down. When I finished, I checked on her. I prepared a fresh bowl of ice. As soon as I put the cooled towel on her forehead, Yor grabbed my hand.
"Yor?! M-My hand…"
"Don't go."
I tried to pull my hand out but couldn't.
The food definitely brought back a lot of strength to her.
There's no way to free myself as of the moment. I have no choice but to sit on the floor. Then I suddenly find myself humming the lullaby that I used to hear from my mother, which I just seem to have heard not so long ago. And I can't help but wonder what my present would have been if I was normal.
I know I tossed away my life long ago. But what if the bombing did not reach us and I was not separated from my family? Would I have been someone who is a bit clumsy but lucky enough to land a job and settle down? Would I have been able to make my parents proud?
I felt Yor's hand flinch a little. I looked at our clasped hands. I knew I've touched her hands several times before but I only noticed now how rough and callous her hand is, with visible old scars. And it was obvious why.
She worked herself to the bones not only for herself but also for her younger brother. And now, she's busy taking care of us. I sometimes wonder if we're just burdening her. It's cruel of me to take her in when she ought to have a family that will always be there for her. Because the Forger family can't stay forever. All of us will eventually leave this place.
And although she wants to stay with us now, what if she changes her mind?
Suddenly, I felt Yor's grip loosen. My hand slipped away.
Surprisingly, instead of relief, I feel down. Down and conflicted.
What's wrong? What is this feeling?
Am I growing attached?!
There's no way it could be that. It's unacceptable for someone like me.
If so, then it's because she's vital to Operation Strix. Yor is irreplaceable. There's nothing more to it.
But am I really sure of it? Or am I only using my mission as an excuse?
▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎
#spy x family#sxf#sxf fanfic#loid forger#yor forger#loiyor#spy x family fanfic#this was originally posted on ao3 as “arroz caldo”#i would like to do another loiyor sick fic again but it's loid who's sick 😂🤣
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At last, back at the UFOs’ apartment...
“UFO... back.”
“2FO... sleep.” Right. With all the work they had to pull on their own, plus the stress of it all, 2FO is going to get some rest for now.
“Oh well! Guess I better get going, myself. Wonder if my crew had anything exciting happen while I was gone.”
“Thanksh a whole lot, again! We would have shtruggled to find them without your help!” Ankh was truly grateful for Qbby’s help.
“Don’t mention it! If I ever end up isolating myself on the moon due to having conflicted thoughts about myself and questioning my entire life for whatever reason, I know UFO would do the same for me.”
“...The chances of going through the exact same thing are slim, but you know what I mean.”
“Uh-huh! UFO understands! If it happens, UFO help Qbby... as much as Qbby helped UFO.”
“Right!” Qbby turned around to leave, but pauses for a moment. “Say... That thing that you said about your bosses even forcing you to be called UFO instead of a real name...”
“...’Jobski’ was always your real name, wasn’t it?”
“.....! H-how...?”
“Ankh called you that once back on the Moon, remember?”
“....Did I shay that out loud?” Oops. “Shorry, UFO....”
“All this time I’ve been calling you ’UFO’... when I should have been calling you by a much cooler name!“ Imagine. It’s as if he went by ’Boxboy’ instead of ’Qbby’.
“I like it! You should use it more often!”
“....O-oh.... UFO thank Qbby. Will consider it....”
“Alright, I’ll go for reals, now. See you two again soon! Byeee!” And off he goes, to make a call to be picked up by the Boxship.
And that just leaves Ankh and UFO left.
“....Hey, Jobshki?”
“Again, I’m really shorry for not stopping by to check on you shooner. I jusht wanted to throw you the shurprise for your 5th year on Earth....”
“....UFO no blame Ankh. UFO... did not tell Ankh sooner. Did not want to make Ankh upset again.”
“......” Sigh. “I undershtand. But pleashe know, lasht time I washn’t upset at you; I wash upset for you.”
“I... really care about you, alright? I never had anyone elshe shtick around with me for ash long ash you have, even back on my former planet. I didn’t want to shee you get hurt jusht becaushe of me.”
“But UFO only want to make Ankh happy. For doing lots of nice things for UFO...”
“You already do; jusht... getting to shee you anytime ish more than enough, honestly.”
“......O-oh....”
“Pleashe.... don’t be afraid to call me. Whatever you need help with, I’ll do whatever it takesh to help you, too.”
“I want you to be jusht ash happy, after all!”
“....O-okay. UFO... will try....”
“Promishe?”
“P-promise!”
“Good!”
“Jusht you wait. Your shurprise will be the besht one I’ll pull off jusht yet! I hope you have a great night!”
“A-Ankh, wait!”
“Hmm?”
“...UFO believe Ankh is... most dear best friend. Ankh... m-mean a lot to UFO... M-more than Ankh-”
“-could ever know?”
“....I know. You’re very dear to me too, Jobshki.~” Ankh turned around once more to finally take her leave towards her own place.
...and conveniently hid her blushing face and bright smile as she left.
“Night, Jobshki!~”
“....N.... N-night....~” Sigh. Ah well. Time to go inside and get some actual rest themselves-
“.......UFO’s face.... red again.”
“....2FO supposed to go sleep.”
“ᗫᙍᒪᒪᗅᑤ ᖶᓿ; ᑗᓎᖻ ᙍᖇᗅ ᘉᓿ ᙍᐻᓎᒪ ᕼᖶᓿᙎ ᖇᙍᕼ ! ~” ( “Called it; you ARE in love with her!”)
“H-huh?!? ᑗ-ᑗᓎᖻ ᖶ'ᘉᓎᗫ ᘉᙍᐻᙍ ᙎᓎᘉᖽᐸ ᖶᗅᕼᙎ ‘ᙍᐻᓎᒪ’ Sᓿ!!” ( “Y-you don’t even know what ‘love’ is!!” )
“.....Just like... book. Face red. Happy ‘sigh’.... when Ankh around.”
“.......U.... UFO do not like that book.......” Jobski mumbled.
“UFO... not say ‘noooo’.~”
“N-n-no! I-it is not like... UFO does not....!”
“UFO... want to hold Ankh hand again.~”
“2FO, please! That’s o-only first time!”
“....................”
“...............UFO....o-only wish it lasted longer....”
Oh, to realize you are a touch-starved flying saucer in love.... is it too late to go hide on the Moon again?
#IC Update#RED CLAWED HELPER (2FO)#COSMIC APPAREL SHOP OWNER (ANKH)#SHAPED LIKE A FRIEND...LY BOX (QBBY)#THE PART TIME UFO (JOBSKI)#drabble#part 4#alright. that'll do for now.#:)#long post
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What idol is the slobbiest?
"Yoshiko-chan."
"Yoshiko-chan."
"Yocchan..."
"I-I'd say... Y-Yoshiko-chan..."
"Yoshiko-chan, zura."
"Yoshiko-chan."
"Yoshiko~"
"Yoshiko-san... Which is unsurprising given her usual lifestyle and habits..."
"GLOORUPH-!!... Hfff... H-How ish that fair, none of you think of anyone elshe?! Hff... And it'sh YO-HA-NE...!!"
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My husband says people go online and make posts about how there disabled partner is frustrating or useless because of there disability and because they "don't do enough". Well hears my disabled partner post. I WILL NEVER LEAVE MY MANS. He adds so much light and hope and reason to every one of my days. If he had no arms no legs and dementia I would spoon feed him yogurt and I WOULD STILL LOVE HIM. When he can't do anything I love him cause he's warm and soft and he smiles at me even though he's tired. When he can do things I love him because we can go on little adventures and be creative together. He is not my world he is my solar system AND THE AMOUNT OF LOVE I HAVE FIR THAT MAN IS THE UNIVERSE, it surrounds him and holds him and is unshakeable in it's everything ness it could build worlds and kill Suns AND IT IS CONSTANTLY EXPANDING. I wish he could understand how much that is to me. He feels bad cause he can't do anything. Well dose the solar system do anything no it just sits there letting nature run it's course looking lovly and everyone is glad it's there. All he has to do is lay there and smile at me EVERTBING ELSH IS OBSOLETE!!! the word could fall to entropy and humanity could crumble to dust and memories and my love would glow with the length of 1000% nuclear half-lives it would leech into the very soil and stardust that makes this petty little ball were all stuck on. He deserves joy. He deserves love. He deserves praise and care and adoration. And I hope this ludicrously long post helps him understand why I'm so upset when he discounts himself.
@systemic-chaos
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Have you ever heard of Hazbin Hotel? I think you might like the overall design of it! Just a thought
It's pretty nicely animated - timing and animation is the creator's strength, imo. I'm really glad that an animator is getting to do an original idea (new blood + not a sequel ir reboot or continuation, whaaat?) since that's where I want to be at, eventually.
Actually, I've been sort of lurking around the creator's work since their webcomic, so it's really interesting for me to see what their ideas will look like with an expanded team and a chance to refine them.
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name meanings
kanji breakdowns. warning: im chinese, not japanese, so please correct me if i’m wrong!
yashiro (bc he has the most names)
御子原 学 : mi ko hara gaku
the “mi” means “imperial,” or “to govern,” the “ko” means “child” (but is often sort of just sometimes put in for flavor) and the “hara” means “pain, field, wilderness”. so altogether, a prince’s meadow - i’m more inclined to go with this one because all of yashiro’s last names besides the fake one are references to locations. His first name, “gaku,” means “study,” so he’s basically named after being “studious.” this kanji doesn’t change the entire way through, but the pronunciation changes later on
八代 学 : yashi ro gaku
“yashiro” means “eight generations/eras/epochs” (with the yashi being eight). however, it’s a slightly odd kanji spelling for this pronunciation, as “yashiro” is homophonous with 社 , meaning “shrine.” However, eight is a significant number in buddhism (see: eightfold path, eight hot hells, eight cold hells).
西園 学 : nishi zono manabu
fist name pronunciation change, but kanji stays the same - last name is “nishi” for “west,” and “zono” for “garden.” the “west garden” being referred to is the western paradise in buddhist tradition. this is the same paradise as the 極楽 (gokuraku) referenced in yashiro’s version of the spider’s thread.
古賀 : ko ga
the fake last name yashiro uses during the hospital trip to the park. “ko” as in “old, nostalgic” and “ga” as in “joy, congratulations.” so hes literally congratulating satoru and reminiscing on the joy satoru brought him. thanks yashiro
i want to say right now that mikohara, yashiro, and nishizono together seem to imply the buddha’s path to enlightenment - a “child imperial” (so, like, a prince) who then studies the “eight” of something and reaches the “western paradise” - which is pretty funny because yashiro has always compared himself to kandata, the sinner
the fujinumas
藤沼 悟 : fuji numa satoru
“fuji” as in “wisteria,” “numa” as in “pond.” wisterias were significant to buddhist followers bc amida buddha is said to approach the recently deceased on a purple cloud in order to take them to the pure land/western paradise. “satoru” literally means “enlightenment”
藤沼 佐知子 : fuji numa sa chi ko
wisterias are also long-lived and associated with immortality, and sachiko’s seemingly eternal youth is often commented on. “sa” meaning “to help,” “chi” meaning “to know,” “ko” as a common feminine suffix to names. the first names in erased are always like so blatantly on the nose its kind of embarrassing, so sachiko literally means “to help to know”
everyone else
片桐 愛梨 : kata giri ai ri
“kata” as in “leaf,” “giri” as in “paulownia,” “ai” as in “love,” and “ri” as in “pear tree,” but also as part of 阿闍梨 , “high monk.” paulownia is associated with dowries and weddings, and airi is like...the girl the author intended to be the love interest so ?
小林 賢也 : ko bayashi ken ya
“ko” as in “small,” “bayashi” as in “grove, forest,” “ken” as in “wisdom,” “ya” as in “to be”. so, “to be wise.” again, on the nose.
雛月 加代 : hina dzuki ka yo
“hina” as in “chick,” but also often meaning “young” (as in 雛僧 , “young priest”), “zuki” as in “moon,” “ka” as in “to add, increase” and “yo” (same as the “ro” in yashiro) as in “generations, ages, passage of time, change”. so, “young moon” for the last name, but “to add a generation/change” (ie, surviving, giving birth)
雛月 明美: hina dzuki ake mi
“akemi” as in “unspoilt, beautiful,” which is funny in a sad sort of way
杉田 広美 : sugi ta hiro mi
“sugi” as in “cypress,” “ta” as in “field, paddy,” “hiro” as in “wide, spacious,” and “mi” as in “beautiful.” i don’t think there’s any real meaning to the cypress bit but like, name the kid whose main character trait is “killed bc he looks pretty like a girl” “pretty” haha. bokumachi’s on-the-nose naming scheme strikes again
杉田 未来 : sugi ta mi rai
“mirai” literally means “future” so like, haha, symbolism.
中西 彩 : naka nishi aya
“naka” as in “middle,” “nishi” as in “west,” “aya” as in “to color, add flair”. i guess she’s in the middle of yashiro’s plans?
澤田 真: sawa da makoto
“sawa” as in “swamp,” “da” as in “field, paddy,” “makoto” as in “truth, reality.” for the journalist seeking the truth, fitting name
白鳥 潤: shira tori jun
“shiratori” as in “swan,” “jun” as in “to receive benefits”. this one might be kind of a reach but there’s a famous buddhist story where prince siddhartha (who later becomes the OG buddha) saves a swan his cousin shoots. with satoru’s ties to enlightenment and the buddha (technically, a different buddha, but also technically they’re all the same buddha) idk if it’s an intentional reference to this story or not, but it could very well be
修 : osamu
“to master,” but also probably more relevant to the story, “to repair a fault one has caused”
カズ : kazu
uhh i can’t find the actual kanji for his name but it looks like the most common kanji with this pronunciation seems to be “number”
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i have written a more detailed background for aneirin following the changes , but some key ones are here :
he is from the demetae , a celtic tribe focused in modern - day pembrokeshire . he has blood family but considers the other demetae as his family .
he holds firm belief in his brythonic gods , such as arawn , mabon and llyr . before the curse , he had no interaction with christianity , as he was born in the 1st century BC .
much of his body is tattooed , characterised by blue/greenish coloured symbols such as triquetras and different animals to symbolise strength etc. he takes great pride in his tattoos and the fearsome appearance it presents .
he chooses the surname cadogan later in life , as it becomes clear surnames are common , but will be happily referred to as either aneirin of the demetae or aneirin cadogan .
#im very very happy w the changes to him#i feel like he's more fleshed out now and more interesting to me#nd in case its not clear - i am w/elsh myself n trust me when i say i did my research lmao#took a while but labour of love <3
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25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2019
DAY 4 - LOVE WILL LEAD YOU BACK
Prompt from FanFiction User malexfaith: Inspired by the Taylor Dane song "Love Will Lead You Back." (See the full prompt at the end of the story).
Nights like this made Beca hate being the Bellas Captain. She longed for the days of her Freshman Year when she could use any one of a number of excuses not to go out with the Bellas.
Beca sat at the table that Stacie had talked some guys into giving up for them. She sipped her beer and peeled the label off the bottle. She cringed at hearing a seriously off-key version of All I Want For Christmas Is You.
"Why aren't you dancing, Beca?" Stacie asked as she flopped into the chair next to Beca.
"Don't feel like it," Beca said, downing the rest of her beer. "Oh, look, I'm empty. I think I'll go get another."
Beca stood up, and Stacie grabbed her arm. "No worries, we got you covered."
Just then, Amy and the other girls came back to the table. Amy had a tray of shots while CR was carrying a tray with fresh drinks for everyone.
"Great," Beca mumbled as she sat back down.
"Come on, Beca," Amy said. "It's Christmas Eve. Celebrate a little."
"Yeah, Beca," Staci said, handing Beca a shot.
Beca took the shot and held it, knowing someone would make a toast before they downed them. Beca smiled a sad smile as she thought about how Chloe was usually the one making the holiday toast.
"Here's to Christmas and getting everything you want," CR said, and the girls downed their shots.
"Gross," Beca said, grimacing. "You guys are hitting the hard stuff early."
"We're all excited for Christmas, Beca," Ashley said, laughing.
"Here," Amy said, passing a beer to Beca. "Wash it down with this."
"Thanks," Beca said and took a drink of the beer. "Ugh, that shot made my beer taste bad."
"Let's dance!" Stacie squealed, and the rest of the Bellas did as well. They all stood, and Stacie held out her hand to Beca. "Let's go, Captain!"
"You guys go ahead," Beca said, remaining seated. "I'm not feeling it right now."
"Come on, Stacie," Jessica yelled from the dance floor.
"Go," Beca said, waving Stacie away.
"Okay," Stacie said. "But, I will get you out there to dance."
Stacie turned and danced her way over to the other Bellas.
Beca sipped at her beer as her mind wandered to another night out where she was forced to dance.
"Come on, Becs," Chloe said, leaning into Beca. "Dance with me."
"I'm not much of a dancer," Beca said.
"Don't lie to me, Mitchell," Chloe said, grabbing Beca and pulling her out of her chair. "I've seen the way you move during Bellas rehearsals."
"That's because it's all choreographed," Beca said. "This would just be me looking stupid."
"I won't let that happen," Chloe said, dragging Beca toward the dance floor. "Just follow me."
Beca followed Chloe, and they danced. Beca even managed to look like she knew what she was doing as long as she followed Chloe's lead.
Beca realized she would follow Chloe anywhere. Sadly, the realization came after Chloe left and Beca was still here.
Beca wiped a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek. "Why can't I get her out of my mind," Beca thought.
"Are you okay, Beca?" Stacie asked, forcing Beca out of her thoughts.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine," Beca said, looking down at the table.
"I know you miss her," Stacie said.
"I wasn't thinking about Chloe," Beca said a little too quickly.
"I didn't mention her name," Stacie retorted.
"I'm sorry," Beca said softly. "I thought that we had something. It hurts to know we had nothing."
"You two had, no, you two have something," Stacie said. "You just didn't tell Chloe how you felt, so she did what she had to do to move on."
"How do you tell your best friend that you fell in love with her?" Beca said. "I thought she'd still be with us and graduate when we did. She always said she failed Russian Lit to stay with the Bellas. Why did she decide to pass last year and go away?"
"I have an answer, but you're not going to like it," Stacie said.
"I'm an idiot?" Beca asked. "Is that your answer."
"In a manner of speaking," Stacie said. "I know you were scared, but we're talking about Chloe here. If she wasn't into you like that, she would have let you down nicely. You never gave her a chance to know you were interested."
"Because I'm not good with that stuff," Beca said. "Talking about my feelings, pouring out my emotions, that's what Chloe does. I thought if she felt anything for me, she would have said something."
"What would you have done if she had?" Stacie asked.
Beca let out a humorless laugh. "I probably would have become flustered and ran away from her."
"Exactly," Stacie said. "She knew that if anything was going to happen between you two, you were going to have to be the one to initiate it."
"Where was this sage advice when I really needed it?" Beca asked.
"It wasn't for me or anyone else to tell you," Stacie said. "You had to figure it out on your own."
Beca chewed on her bottom lip and stared down at the table.
"You should come dance with us," Stacie said. "Get your mind off things."
"Okay," Beca said and let Stacie lead her to the dance floor.
~ Day 4 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~
An hour later, the Bellas were all drunk, including their Captain. Another round of shots and drinks found their way to their table and passed around.
"Here's to the Bellas winning their fourth ICCAs this year," Stacie yelled and downed her shot.
"Hear, hear," the other Bellas yelled and downed their shots.
"Oh, God," Beca said, slurring her words. "I have to work on the shet for Shecshinalsh."
"We already have the set for Sectionals," CR said, laughing at Beca.
"We do?" Beca asked her eyes wide. "Ish it good?"
"It's the best," the Bellas yell in unison.
"I should have gone home for Chrishmish," Beca said. "And why can't I say wordsh? Wordsh?" Beca tried to see her lips and why they weren't working. She gave up and leaned toward Stacie. "Whatsh the word I'm looking for?"
Stacie laughed and said, "You just said it."
"I did?' Beca asked. "What ish it?"
"Word," Stacie said.
"Eggshactly," Beca said, causing Stacie and CR to laugh.
"You're drunk," Amy said, shaking her head. "You're such a lightweight."
"Hey!" Beca yelled. "I am not." Beca moved her arm to put it on the table and missed it. "I totesh am. Woo hoo! I'm drunk!"
Beca started laughing as if she had said the funniest thing ever. The rest of the Bellas started laughing at Beca.
Beca stopped laughing and started crying. "I mish her sho much."
"Oh, shit," CR said. "She's crossed over to the emotional side."
"Who do you miss, Beca?" Amy asked with a mischievous grin.
"Amy, don't," Stacie admonished.
"I mish Chloe," Beca said and laid her head on the table as she sobbed uncontrollably. "I love her so much!"
"I knew it!" Amy yelled, throwing her fist in the air.
"Dammit," Stacie mumbled, putting her arm across Beca's shoulders. "Come on, Becs. You hate to cry in front of people. Especially people you don't know."
Beca's head jerked up, hitting Stacie on the chin.
"Ow," Stacie said, pulling away from Beca and putting her hand to her chin.
"Ish people looking at me?" Beca asked, wiping her face and looking around.
"Just us, Beca," Jessica said as the Bellas stared wide-eyed at Beca. "I've never seen her get this far gone before."
"I'm going to go," Beca said and stood from her chair. "I, uh, I'm gonna go home."
Beca swayed, and CR grabbed her to keep her from falling.
"Stay here with us, Beca," CR said, pushing Beca back in her seat.
"M'kay," Beca said.
"Someone get her some water," Stacie said.
Ashley jumped up. "I'll get it."
"Beca, Ashley is getting you some water," Stacie said, holding Beca's face so she would look at her. "When she gets back, I want you to drink it all, okay?"
"Kay," Beca said with a goofy grin on her face as she stared at Stacie. She reached up and ran her hand down Stacie's face. "You're pretty."
"You're pretty, too," Stacie said, smiling as Beca started patting her cheek.
"You know who elsh ish pretty?" Beca asked, dropping her hand to her lap.
"Who?" Stacie asked.
"Chloe," Beca said wistfully. "Chloe ish soooooooooo pretty."
"Yes, Chloe is pretty, too," Stacie said, smiling. She hated to admit it, but Drunk Beca was one of her favorite Becas.
"Here you go, Stacie," Ashley said, holding out two bottles of water.
"Thanks, Ash," Stacie said as CR took the water.
CR opened one of the bottles and handed it to Stacie. Stacie kept one hand under Beca's chin to hold her head up. She put the bottle to Beca's lips.
"Drink up, Beca," Stacie said.
Beca sputtered a bit but drank down the water.
~ Day 4 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~
After two bottles of water, a bathroom break, and going outside into the crisp air, Beca was now less drunk but not quite sober.
"God," Beca said, holding her head in her hands. "Why did you guys let me drink sho," Beca cleared her throat, "so much."
"We tried to stop you," Jessica said. "But Amy was helping you by handing you shot after shot."
"She needed to let loose," Amy said. "And it worked."
"You're lucky it's Chrishmish. Ugh, Christmas," Beca said, glaring at Amy. She suddenly furrowed her brow and looked around. "Where's Lily?"
"I'm not sure I want to know," CR said.
"Me, either," Ashley said.
Someone got up to sing another rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You, and Bece cringed.
"Don't you have any other songs on your playlist?" Beca yelled, looking over at the karaoke DJ.
"It's a romantic holiday song, Beca," Jessica said. "They're singing it to let their significant other know that they want them for Christmas."
"Don't you want someone to be yours for Christmas?" Ashley asked.
Beca glared at her and snarled, "No, I don't. And thanks for the reminder that I don't have anyone."
Ashley raised her hands and sat back in her chair.
"Then what do you want for Christmas, Beca?" Stacie asked. "If Santa were here, standing in front of you and said you could have whatever you wanted, what would you ask for?"
"That's a great question," CR said. "I think I'd ask for a steady stream of money so I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted."
"I'd ask for a nice house," Ashley said. "All paid for so I wouldn't have a mortgage or rent payment."
"I'd ask for a nice modern cabin where I could go on vacation," Jessica said. "It would look rustic on the outside, but have all the modern conveniences on the inside."
"I'd ask for someone to love me as much as I love them," Stacie said with a sigh. "Retire the hunter for good."
Beca laughed. "I thought you found that someone with Aubrey."
"I did," Stacie said with a smile. "But I'm not sure Aubrey loves me as much as I love her."
"Are you kidding?" Beca asked incredulously. "You two are forever." Beca sighed. "That's what I want. I want what you and Aubrey have. I, um, thought I could have that, but now, I don't think it's a possibility anymore."
"You could still have that, Beca," Stacie said.
"She's right, Beca," CR said. "You just need to reach out to Chloe and let her know how you feel."
"I never mentioned Chloe," Beca said. "I could be talking about someone else."
"Are you?" CR asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No," Beca said and sighed. She blushed a bit before adding, "All I want for Christmas is Chloe."
"Go sing about it," Stacie said. "Find a song that says what you want to say to Chloe and sing it. You always said you let the music speak for you. So, let it."
"Yeah, Beca," Amy said. "It beats having you moping around all the time."
"Give it a shot, Beca," CR encouraged her.
Beca grimaced and looked around the table. "You're right. I'm going to do it."
Beca got up and stumbled toward the karaoke DJ, and the girls cheered her on. She asked to see the list of songs and started looking through them. She saw one that caught her eye, and she smiled. She pointed it out to the DJ and gave her name.
"You're up after this one," the DJ told her.
Beca nodded and went back over to the table. "I'm going to need a drink after this."
"I'll buy you a drink," CR said. "And it will be waiting here for you when you are done."
It wasn't long before Beca's name was called. She made her way to the stage and took the microphone.
"Um, before I start," Beca said to the crowd. "I just want to say, if you love someone, tell them. Don't let another moment go by without them knowing how you feel. I kept my mouth shut out of fear and lost someone who I believe is the love of my life. I am living in a world where I hope someday she realizes she has feelings for me, and she comes back to me. That love will lead her back."
Beca swallowed and nodded at the DJ. The music started, and Beca took a breath before she started singing.
Saying goodbye
Is never an easy thing
But you never said that you'd stay forever
So if you must go
Well, darlin', I'll set you free
But I know in time that we'll be together
I won't try to stop you now from leaving
'Cause in my heart I know
Love will lead you back
Someday I just know that
Love will lead you back to my arms
Where you belong
Stacie's phone pinged with a text. After reading it, she smiled and left the table. She continued to watch and listen as she made her way to the back of the bar.
I'm sure, sure as stars are shining
One day you will find me again
It won't be long
One of these days our love will lead you back
One of these nights
Well I'll hear your voice again
You're gonna say, oh how much you missed me
You'll walk out this door
But someday you'll walk back in
Darling I know, I know this will be
Sometimes it takes, some time out on your own now
To find your way back home
Love will lead you back
Someday I just know that
Love will lead you back to my arms
Where you belong
Stacie walked back over to the table and sat down. She sipped her drink as she listened to Beca.
"I'm going to get Beca's beer," CR said.
"Don't," Stacie said. "She's going to need to be sober."
"Okay," CR said. "I'm going to get me another beer. Can I bring you anything?"
Stacie shook her head, and CR went to the bar.
I'm sure, sure as stars are shining
One day you will find me again
It won't be long
One of these days our love will lead you back, oh
I won't try to stop you now from leaving
'Cause in my heart I know, oh yeah
Love will lead you back
Someday I just know that
Love will lead you back to my arms
Where you belong
I'm sure, sure as stars are shining
One day you will find me again
It won't be long
One of these days our love will lead you back, oh yeah
Love will lead you back
Someday I just know that
Love will lead you back to my arms
It won't be long
One of these days
Our love will lead you back
The song ended, and the crowd applauded and cheered; none more so than the Bellas. Beca thanked everyone and turned to hand the mic back to the DJ. She froze when she saw a certain redhead standing just behind him, with tears in her eyes and a big smile on her face.
"Chloe?"
Beca threw the mic to the DJ and jumped off the stage. She stumbled as she landed, but Chloe caught her by the arms before she fell to the floor. Beca stood in front of Chloe and stared at her.
"Hey, Becs," Chloe said, releasing Beca's arms.
"What are you doing here?" Beca asked.
"Well, I had to come back to get something I forgot," Chloe said.
"What did you forget?" Beca asked, confused.
"You," Chloe said, causing Beca's breath to hitch.
"Wha-, um, what does that mean?"
"It means love has led me back to you," Chloe said. "I love you, too, Becs."
Beca rushed forward and grabbed Chloe in a hug. Chloe let out a small sob and pulled Beca tighter to her.
"I'm glad you came back," Beca whispered with tears in her eyes.
"So am I," Chloe whispered back, sniffling.
Beca pulled back from the hug and stared into Chloe's eyes. She smiled and said, "May I kiss you?"
"I'd be hurt if you didn't," Chloe said and closed the distance between their lips.
The Bellas could be heard yelling and screaming behind Chloe. Stacie looked at Aubrey and smiled before kissing her.
Beca and Chloe ended their kiss, and Beca reached up to wipe Chloe's tears.
"Um, how long are you here for?" Beca asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
"At least until May," Chloe said. "The teaching job in New York was only for this semester. Aubrey's hired me as a temp to help her at the retreat."
"Why only until May?" Beca asked.
"Because that's when you graduate," Chloe said. "And I'm hoping to convince you to ask me to go wherever you go."
Beca's smile got wider. "Even if I'm going all the way across the country to LA? Away from your best friend and your family?"
"I'll go with you even if you go to LA," Chloe said without any thought. "You're my best friend. My family. The love of my life. I'll go wherever you ask me to."
"Then I'm asking you to move to LA with me," Beca said, smiling.
"Then I'm moving to LA with you," Chloe said, smiling back at her.
Beca kissed Chloe again. The ended the kiss when they both couldn't stop smiling.
"I got exactly what I asked Santa for," Beca said. "Merry Christmas to me!"
"Me, too," Chloe said and leaned it to kiss Beca again.
Stacie and Aubrey watched Beca and Chloe. When they kissed again, Stacie said, "Looks like we both know our best friends better than they know themselves."
"It didn't take much convincing to get Chloe to come," Aubrey said. "It took a lot to keep her from jumping Beca as soon as we got here."
Chloe pulled back from the kiss to catch her breath. She leaned her forehead against Beca's.
"I love you, Becs," Chloe whispered.
"I love you, too, Chloe."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Full Prompt from malexfaith: Inspired by the Taylor Dane song Love Will Lead You Back. One of them is asked what their Christmas wish is... I'm thinking of having them think about it and then getting up on stage singing that song. To have the other hiding in the crowd, and Christmas wish granted.
Song Used: Love Will Lead You Back by Taylor Dane
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“I wish I could get snails that live longer but it’s illegal so I keep the ones from mom’s garden.”
Scott was always welcome at the James’ house. Mrs. James insisted that Scott call her Auntie, and whenever he was dragged to their house she’d greet him with a ruffling to his hair and a peanut butter and banana sandwich. In the eight years he’d known Rats, that never changed. Rats never changed and the James house never changed. He would often find himself there, laying on their carpet and eating their food while he and Rats hung out because they were the only people who could stand each other for long periods of time.
Scott liked being there, sometimes more than his own house with his fuckton of brothers and sisters. Rats was an only kid, so he had toys he didn’t need to share when they were kids, and then when they got too old to play with legos he got remote controlled cars, nice bikes, and a whole shelf in the fridge dedicated to food that he wanted.
Had it really been eight months since he’d been there? Things looked the same on the outside when he went up to the door. There was the garden that got replaced every year after winter killed it off. The welcome mat with the green flowers that was faded so it looked like it was saying WEI OOME under his feet. Mister James’ truck was there, but it was dirty which was weird because Mister James never let his truck get dirty. Their dumb cat was laying in the purple flower bed, ignoring him just as much as usual.
Eight months.
He knocked and waited, and noted that the bright blue door had been repainted a different shade. Now it was more like the sky, rather than the eggshell color of before.
Mrs. James answered the door and paused. Mrs. James was a pretty woman, with curly dark hair with a few strands of silver throughout, and the discomfort on her face didn’t sit well. “Ah.” She said. “Did Trevor invite you over?”
What a weird way to say hi. “Yeah, I needed some help with my homework.” Scott lied. “Can’t make heads or tails of Hamlet no matter how hard I try.”
The worried lines on Mrs. James face smoothed, and she exhaled. “Okay. Good.” She let Scott inside.
The recliner in the living room was gone, and the house looked clean for once. That wasn’t right. The place should smell like beer and Mr. James should be in that recliner drinking and reading one of his car magazines. Where was Mr. James? He always got home before five. Mrs. James didn’t have anything to tell him and went back to wherever she came from. Not towards the kitchen, but towards some back room.
Well, Scott could make his own sandwiches. He migrated to the kitchen and rifled through everything. Rats’ mom was a cool lady and did a lot of DIY home stuff. She was the person who usually fixed up their bikes and then would paint them with cool patterns. He still had his bike helmet with the flying bat-winged skulls on them. The kitchen was painted in funky colors, and the tiles were all mismatched original things that Mrs. James did since she was really into ceramics. Even the grout was different colors. It was different from Scott’s house which was a plain brown tile to match granite countertops and plain beige walls. There wasn’t a single ounce of beige in this house. Mrs. and Mr. James never planned to sell, and they were both in their 40’s, so it wouldn’t have to be put on the market for a long time. He hoped that the next people wouldn’t just tear everything out and make it boring.
The fridge was empty of beer and Mr. James’ medication that had to be kept cool. Was he on a business trip? To get a new recliner? There were no bananas in the house. Why? Rats ate bananas too, why weren’t there any bananas? Maybe Mrs. James hadn’t gone to the store this week, and that’s why there was no beer or medication.
Scott went to Rats’ room with a peanut butter sandwich and a bottle of water. On the door of Rats’ room was a big wooden T. One side was painted red, and the other side was blue. The blue side was facing Scott. Weird. Maybe it was some kind of sign to keep out, or something else.
Rats’ room hadn’t changed much, thankfully. Scott sat his sandwich and water down on his desk, carefully avoiding his laptop that was already pretty greasy and fingerprint-stained.
Rats’ whole setup was interesting. He had a bunk bed that was minus the bottom bunk. They used to take cheap curtains and hang them up so the space under the bunk was cloaked in shadow. Then they’d play dragons and they’d pretend like their legos were the hoard they were protecting. Or they’d be knights and defend the castle (being the top bunk) from bad guys. Now the space held a wooden box full of sand, and when he glanced in he could see two tortoises slowly crawling about. Since when did he get those? He picked up his sandwich and started to eat it and walked around, snooping without touching anything.
Rats had a blanket thrown over his TV, which was odd. Back in elementary school, they’d watch the animal planet together after school was out and before Scott’s parents could come home. It was better than the after-school program, at least. Did he not watch TV anymore?
It looked like Rats’ other animal setup hadn’t changed, and Scott narrowed his eyes at the aquarium. Rats’ snail tank wasn’t changed, so Scott didn’t bother looking at those. He was surprised when he didn’t see what he was looking for, and instead, there was an ugly yellow beta fish in his aquarium. What happened to Superman? Rats had loved the blue and red beta more than his own family, so what was this ugly thing doing here?
“Who let you in?”
Scott didn’t flinch or turn his head. “Yer mahm let meh in.” Scott said through a mouthful of peanut butter sandwich. “Whoh elsh?”
Rats hadn’t changed much in the past nine months, other than his hair having gotten a little darker. He looked tired, mostly, like he wanted to climb up and go to bed even though he just got home from whatever-the-fuck he did after school now. Scott didn’t really care, because it meant Rats wasn’t hanging out with him so it was probably useless. His hair was still wild and fluffy and dark, but instead of hiding his plain brown eyes the whole mess was parted to one side. It had earned him the nickname in the past. Rats’ nest had been Scott’s affectionate boyishly-mean nickname, and eventually, it became Rats when his baby teeth fell out and his front teeth got big. Not anymore though, since it looked like Rats had braces on.
“Whatever.” Rats said and set his backpack down on the ground. In his arms was a bag of leafy greens and a few cucumbers, along with a cheese grater. Rats went to the tortoise enclosure and laid out some piles of green stuff and shredded the cucumber on top of it.
Scott wondered if he looked different to Rats. Scott was proud that he grew three inches the past eight months even if it was giving him gnarly stretch marks, but everything else was the same. Scott still had the same strawberry blond hair buzzed close to his head, the same freckles and acne, and the same sneer that never really left his face. Rats weren’t looking at him, so he figured it didn’t matter.
“So, tortoises,” Scott said when Rats wouldn’t talk. He took another bite from his sandwich. “When did chou get thosh?”
“A few months ago.” Rats said. “They’re both five. Girls.”
“What’cha name em?” He asked.
“Lady and Missy.” He said. “The browner one is Lady.” Rats watched as the tortoises went to town on the wet cucumber.
“How’d you get them?”
Rats didn’t answer and instead answered a question with a question. “Why the fuck are you here, Scott?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me and I wanted to know what the fuck was up.”
“Yeah?’ Rats said. “What makes you think that I’ve been avoiding you?”
“You don’t come to hang out after school, you unfriended me on facebook, you didn’t come to my birthday party, and you didn’t invite me to your birthday party this year-”
“I didn’t have a birthday party this year, Scott,” Trevor said.
Scott narrowed his eyes. “That’s bullshit if I ever heard it. Why-”
“Because my dad died a week before my birthday.” Rats spat out.
Scott’s mind came to a screeching halt. “What?”
“I said my dad fucking died!” Rats snapped.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Scott exclaimed.
His mind raced. Mr. James wasn’t a saint, but he was an okay man who always had a good word for Scott. Scott liked Mrs. James better, but Mr. James would talk to Scott and actually listen, unlike his actual father who was all mhm’s and years when Scott wanted to talk about something. Sure, he drank, but he wasn’t an alcoholic as far as Scott knew. He was decent to Scott, and a good dad to Rats.
He didn’t feel comfortable talking about that though, so he jumped to the next thing that came to mind. “How are you, like, still here? Your mom doesn’t work.”
“Maybe it’s none of your business.” Rats said.
“None of my- dude! I’ve known you for like eight years! How is that not my business?” Scott’s eyes were wide, watching as Rats hid his face through his cloud of wild hair.
“It’s not your business because you’re not my friend anymore.” Rats said.
Scott blinked, hard. “What did you just say?”
“I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” Trevor said. “So I haven’t been talking to you because I don’t want to. We don’t go to the same high school, and I don’t like you.” Rats stressed.
“What?” Scott said. “Where is this coming from?”
“Where?” Rats said. “It’s coming from eight years of bullshit! You’ve treated me like garbage for a long time and I’m sick of it.
“Hey!” Scott snapped. “I’ve been your best friend for a long time! You don’t fucking meann\ that.”
“And yet I haven’t felt better in my life.” Rats sucked in a breath. “I actually... really hate you, I think.”
“Come on Rats-”
“Like that fucking nickname.” Rats snapped. “I hate that nickname.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me! How am I supposed to know that you feel bad when you don’t tell me?”
“As if you would have listened.” Rats said and got up to head to the beta tank and drop in a few fish pellets. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. If you can’t figure out why I don’t want you around, then you’re not only a bad person but you’re also stupid too. Please leave.”
What could Scott say to that? He was shoved out of Trevor’s room and the door was slammed in his face. After a moment the door opened and his half-eaten sandwich and water bottle were shoved into his hands, and the door slammed in his face again. Scott stared at the door, wondering how the hell this ended up happening. His face was flushed bright with anger and some kind of deep hurt that brought tears to his eyes. He angrily blinked them away.
Scott was in high school, he couldn’t be crying over something as dumb as his best friend kicking him out of his house.
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An oldie but a goodie
So in light of realizing I really don’t have a lot of Mags stories on here I decided to go dig through my old DA account and see if anything survived since I wasn’t the best at cross posting from Y!...and now I feel old cause Y! went down in 2016 and now is back apparently....so yeah ANYWAYS!!!!
Enjoy a gently edited (oh god this was posted how long with those errors?!) first time I and Foxy ever collabed from Nov 2008
aka the First time Mags and Cassius met
The Barcrawl
( and to any new readers.....yeah Cassius just talks like that
Cassius hated Canadian pubs. They insisted on calling them bars, and they never had the right food. How was a guy supposed to enjoy his beer without a proper accompaniment? And why had the yellow insisted on meeting here?
“Oy! You in the purple!” a strident woman’s voice rang out. “Your people tried to blow up my brother!”
“Dat’s righ’,” Cassius rumbled, sipping his beer, “but not me pers’nally. I doan do good wit splosives.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone else here,” she retorted. “Maybe I ought to take a down payment in lumps out of you!”
“I warns yer, lady,” Cassius growled. “I’s tougher dan I looks.”
“You don’t look so tough to me!” Magenta challenged.
“Wow, mouffy AN’ blind,” Cassius rumbled. “You got it bad, sister.”
Magenta’s face grew rosy to where it matched her hat and vest. Without another word, she picked up an unoccupied barstool and brought it down on Cassius’s head.
Cassius didn’t flinch; he took his beer bottle and smashed Magenta across the face, sending her soaring towards the leisure section of the bar.
She landed in the midst of a game of eight ball, and, cursing, picked up the cue stick underneath her. She stood up in the middle of the table and kicked the three and the fifteen balls at Cassius’s chest. With one fluid move, she jumped from the billiard table to the bar and pivoted, breaking the cue across Cassius’s face.
Cassius picked himself up off of the floor. Seeing Magenta aim a kick at his face, he seized the leg she was standing on and hurled her bodily into the plate glass window at the bar’s façade.
He grabbed another bottle and waited; she’d be back. One of the patrons with more alcohol than brains approached Cassius, who was picking shards of glass out of his knuckles.
“How dare you hit that lady!” He accused. “That’s not very nice at all.”
“Neither is she,” Cassius growled, “an she hit ferst. I jes hit ‘er back.”
He saw Magenta coming, and he braced for the impact. Outside, she’d landed next to a ‘Valet Parking’ sign for the restaurant next door, and she brought it with her. It caught him squarely in the side, breaking three ribs.
He grunted, and snapped the sign in half.
The patron turned to Magenta who said, “Don’t interfere!” and punched him.
Cassius grabbed the patron’s leg, Magenta grabbed his arm, and together they threw him bodily over the bar. He took out the shelf of high-end liquor and the mirror, and lay groaning behind the bar. Most of the patrons had fled; the bartender was nowhere to be seen.
“What a waste,” Cassius mumbled. “Lookit all dat good booze fallin’ on der floor.”
Magenta straightened her neck with an audible crack. “Not bad, Twinkle-toes. You ARE tougher than you look!”
“An’ yer no sloch eider,” Cassius conceded, drinking rum from a bottle with the top broken off. He offered her the bottle, and she took a long drink.
Idly, Cassius took a long splinter out from her violet hair. “Dat woulda hurt when you put yer hat back on.”
Cassius dusted the glass shards off of his purple vest. “Okay, yer smashed der stool on me head, n' I walloped yer wit der beer bottle, den you broke der poolcue 'cros m' teef, n' I sent you troo der window,” he counted out on his fingers. “Split der damage downna middle?"
“You forgot the cracked ribs, the pool table, and the guy we both sent into the bar display,” she corrected, “Otherwise it all sounds fair.”
Cassius nodded and took out his wallet. He counted several large bills and placed them under the bar counter, weighing them down with the bartender’s shotgun. “He wuz askin' fer it, callin yer a lady 'n sayin I ourtn't smack yer,”
“An’ doan worry 'bout der ribs. I've broke dese tings more times'n I cn count. He should have ter pay fer der mirror doh, on accoun' o' his head doin' der breakin'." Cassius spat out a gob of blood. “Can’ stann innerlopers.”
Magenta snorted. “I smacked you first, you were fair ta shmack me back.” She felt her mouth, where her lower lip was already starting to match her hair. “Shon ova bish! I'm shwelling!” She clapped Cassius on the back. “Good job! Thas shom right hook ya got there.”
“I’d box, but der’s no one big enough to fight,” Cassius said, apologetically. “I'd buy yer a roun', but der bar appears to be desert'd. I know 'n all night biker bar. No place fer a lady, but yer orter be okay. I wanna see 'f yer cn drink's well as yer fight. Say, do yer like karaoke?”
“Did weh not jusht a'tablish I aint no god damn lady?” Magenta demanded. “And fer crooning a tune even if i did like it the lishener ushlly don't. LESH GO! Wait a minute, thish biker bar doesh karaoke?”
“Not yet,” Cassius rumbled. “But dey will.”
*~*~*
Hours and many many MANY drinks later Cassius and Magenta staggered tipsily down the street. “I can' bleev dat guy hekkled us berfore we got troo der first vers,” Cassius growled. “Good ting I hit him inna head wif dat hurled bottle.”
Magenta glared at him. “YOU hit him with a thrown bottle? I beg to differ. I threw that bottle, shir.”
“I hit ‘im inna head,” Cassius corrected. “YOU hit ‘im inna crosh.”
“Good point,” Magenta conceded. “ But I WARNED you I don't shing! And can you believe that whore that shaid my hair was shtupid? I mean what the fuck! She had a fucking hole in her ear the shize of a 28 gauge shell with a fucking ANKER in her lip! I have violet hair an I'm weird?!”
Cassius smirked. “I like yer hair. Mash's m' suit. An, I don' sing eider, but we got's der harm'ny down pat. Don' worry 'bout dat chick. When she wakes up wid der stishes inner forhed she'll know who's shtupid lookin'.”
Magenta howled with laugher. “DAMN SHTRAIGHT! By the by thanksh for docking her boy toy. Elsh I wouldn't have been able to shlash her sho good.”
Cassius shrugged. “Is no problem. Yer good wit dat swishblade!”
Magenta smiled. “Shtill, you are a-shom.” She tried to pat Cassius on the back, but missed the mark by a few feet.
Cassius grinned an evil smile. “He made it easy. Whenever I sees a guy wif nipple clamps anna chain froo 'em, I finks 'Dat's jes beggin t' be yanked.' I din' know he hadda Prince Albert hooked to it too, but dat's his prerorg...perogga..”
“Prerogative?” Magenta supplied
“Dat’s der bunny!” Cassius agreed.
Mags giggled. “Bunny...Shtupid fashin shatement sho was ashkin' for it! Even I don't shcream that fucking girly.”
“Der’s lotsa ways a guy cn look tough,” Cassius rumbled thoughtfully. “Dat’s gotta be one o’ der dumbest I seen, an’ dat’s sayin’ sumtin’.”
“You know,” she mused. “For a Purple, you’re not half bad.”
“An’ you’re pretty decent fer a Red girl, too,” Cassius said.
Magenta bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean? Just because I’m a girl means I can’t pull my weight? Or do you have something against Reds?”
“Nuttin’ gainst eider,” Cassius amended. “I jes tink I’m bedder at some a’ dis dan you.”
“Put your money where your mouth ish,” Mags retorted. “I’ve got a hundred bucksh that says I can do anything you can.”
“Alrigh’,” Cassius said, smirking. “Der blacks ‘ave a buildin’ roun’ here, righ’?”
“They do,” Magenta agreed, slowly. “It’s an office they ush when they’re trying to get at the White HQ, which is kinda all the time anymore.”
“Righ’,” Cassius said. He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “We gots a wager. Whoever gess der potted plant outta Black’s office is der better spy. Yer caught, ya lose. Deal?” He held out his enormous hand.
“Deal!” Mags agreed, shaking his hand.
“In der innerests of fairness,” Cassius rumbled, “We go dere inna same cab.”
“One question: what happensh if we Both get caught?”
“Den we bofe lose,” Cassius replied. “An’ we’re ebenly mashed as Spies. We calls it a draw.”
*~*~*
Rusty raised an eyebrow as he looked at the unknown number flashing on his phone. It was a sealed number though so it has to be someone familiar he reasoned as he answered, "Resident robo speaking."
“Rusty?” Mags asked. “It’s me. I need a pick-up at…WHAT PRECINCT IS THIS?...precinct 18, downtown… wait, WHICH DOWNTOWN? ….I’M FROM GATINEAU THAT’S WHY!…Ottawa. Can you bring bail money for…I see ten, but only four of them are ours.”
“Remin’ me,” Cassius groaned, “How did we end up here?”
“Well after we caught you two bickering over the theft of a potted plant,” Seventy-two started, “Brother and I convinced you two that dancing would be as much fun as Karaoke. So, we went downtown to the hippest club and somehow managed to get in.”
“I think the big guy bribed the bouncer,” Twenty-seven mused. “But regardless of how, we got in. The hottest dance crew in town was on the floor, they danced in front of us,”
“We got challenged,” Seventy-two continued. “I told the big guy and the woman. They looked at each other,”
“And together, they punched out the front man,” finished Twenty-seven. “Then, they proceeded to mop the floor with the rest of the crew.”
“Hey,” Mags retorted, “if they didn’t want to get beat up, they shouldn’t have thrown down in the first place. Besides it was a fair fight: two of us, eight of them.”
“That was bad enough,” Seventy-two said, “but did you two have to take on the whole SWAT team?”
“Dey said her hair was funny,” Cassius mumbled. “I had to knock dose tree out, odderwise we’d be in for longer. Smackin’ a cop is a shorter sen’ance dan rippin’ ‘is goolies off via his nosdril.”
“I would have done nothing of the sort,” sniffed Magenta.
“Then why did you threaten to do just that?” Seventy-two countered. “Every man in the club winced in sympathy pain.”
“Sides, der cops asked us nicely to come along,” Cassius said. “If dey’s willin’ to be polite abou’ it, I figger we might as well come ‘long peaceably.”
“They hit you with three tear gas grenades and tazered you at least six times,” protested Twenty-seven. “That’s what you call polite?”
“Dey dint use der guns or battans,” Cassius said. “Dose tazers were nice; dey tickled. Once Rusty gets ‘ere, I tink I need breakfast. Who wants homme, ommer..”
“Omelets?” Magenta suggested
“Dat’s der bunny!” Cassius agreed.
“I don’t know where you’ll put them,” Mags said. “Over the course of the night, you drank eight beers, fourteen assorted shots, a bottle of rum and a coke, and a centerpiece bud vase with a rose in it.”
“Tought dat one tasted a bit torny,” Cassius rumbled. “An’ yer one ter talk. You matched me on alla dat.”
“Couldn’t have you show me up, could I!” she countered. “And you’re right, it DID taste thorny!”
“MAGS!” Rusty finally yelled, interupting the four-way recounting of what sounded like a wild night.
He could picture Magenta staring at the receiver in her hand a moment before remembering who was on the line, “Hey Rusty.”
"... You do know I record all my calls, right?"
"...Fuck."
Rusty managed to hold in a chuckle, “Do we need an armored car or can I just pick you up?"
"Uh... I got two blacks and a purple...what do you think?
"... Fuck, I'm just going to get the nice company car to do this kind of crap. Google maps says I'll be there in about Forty-five minutes. Are you armed? Wait, don't answer that. ... WHAT are you armed with?"
"I left my babies at home. I HAD A SWITCHBLADE BUT THEY TOOK IT!"
“Actually you lost it when that one dancer kicked your hand,” Twenty-seven chirped.
“And his girlfriend tried to bite your ear off,” Seventy-two added
“Oh yeah…”
“Probably for the best...” Rusty muttered quietly. "Well, I'll get your spare from your desk as a security blanket of death. How's that? Anything else I should know about? What are the sobriety levels?"
"Hang on let me check… How sober are you bitches?!"
"Hung-over and hungry!”
“Dat depends,” Cassius mumbled. “Did I jes step on m’own fingers?”
“No sir,” an unknown voice, Rust assumed another prisoner cried. “You’re standing on mine.”
“Den nuttin’ a Bloody Mary woan fix,” Cassius said. “Or are yer a scewdriver woman?”
“I’m a Sonic Screwdriver woman, thanks to my darling partner. Electrolytes over acid. There’s your answer,” she said into the phone.
"... I'll have Laurie call me en route to see what's open. On my way."
“Thanks Rusty!”
“Den les’ get outta here,” Cassius picked up the groaning twins by the back of their belts. “I got der lightweights. C’n you get der door?”
“Yep. Hey Rust, we’ll be outside. Trust me, you can’t miss us.” She hung up the jail cell’s pay phone.
“Let’s go”
“Damn!” Cassius smacked his forehead with the heel of his right hand, eliciting a groan from twenty-seven.
“What’s wrong?” Magenta asked, picking the jail cell lock.
“I wuz gonna meet a Yellow at der bar we net at.”
“Really?” Magenta looked up from the lock. “I was supposed to meet a Yellow there too. Think the bastard set us up?”
“Hell of a coinkydink,” Cassius growled, shifting his hold so he had the twins under each arm safe and sound.
“Next time I’m thank the bitch before I shoot him,” Mags soothed as she finally devoted her attention to the lock, earning a laugh from the purple agent.
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elsh mentioned kid loboto having an affinity with seagulls so
needless to say they left the beach early
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Drabble: Part-Time Acquaintanceship?
(Part 1)
Well, the good news was that Ankh, in fact, did not have to wait long for the floating stranger’s return; the UFO’s second visit was only the day after. (If she was honest, the fact that the UFO returned at all was just as shocking as the first time.)
Similarly to the first encounter, the flying saucer quietly arrived (she was still able to sense their ‘magic aura’) and again, stared back at the her for a good while. Then browsed. the same outfits from before, bought the next lowest-priced outfit they could afford - a Propeller Hat, this time - and left.
“Thank you, come again shoon!” , she call out again once they were leaving, and thought that was that.
Except they still came back at the next day. And the day after that. Then they’d sometimes even pop-up for a second or third time in the same day. There was even a few points where they were just a few yen too short to buy any of the outfits in display (which she couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed), but even then, the consistent thing about their visits were the staring and silence.
Fast forward to the following week since…
At this point, Ankh was no longer surprised at the UFO’s appearance. Curiosity had long since replaced that confusion. It’s been a week at this point - maybe it was alright to start up small talk? Though considering that they didn’t say a word at all since the first time, would they even be able to speak?
She cleared her throat as they approached the UFO as they were browsing.
“Sho… Do you live around here? How are you liking Earth sho far?” Ankh lightly tapped on the side of the UFO.
“!!!” And even then, that was enough to startle them, which only startled her right back.
“W-WOAH, woah, shorry! Didn’t mean to shcare you…!”
“…….s… so-rry….” Oh. Look at that. Looks like they can talk after all. Sort-of.
“….I…. it’sh okay. Totally my own fault…” It absolutely was. How dare she startle this small, poor, kinda adorable-looking UFO? “I wash jusht wondering, shince you do come here quite a bit.”
“…UFO… drift… Earth…. days a-ago… w-work.” They were struggling to speak right there, having only a minimal grasp of the language that apparently many species can speak in. “…Move… a-part-ment. Close.”
“I shee. The Omniverse Fuchu complex?” The one just a few blocks away?
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh. No wonder you’ve been coming here often. What do you do for a living?”
“…Farm.”
“Farming? Oh, how nice!”
“…and Con-stru-ction.”
“Wait… consh’truction, too?” Woah, two jobs? And just from being on Earth for, what, a little over a week?
“…and Fish-ing.”
“…J-jusht how much ish the rent if you have to work in three jobsh to pay for it?”
“….Oh. UFO… choose…. Book… have jobs.” The part-timer then pulled out the Job Listings Magazine out of… thin air? Do UFOs have pockets, or was this a sign of their ‘magic’ potential?
“Ohhhh! You get to chooshe the job you want, whenever you want?” What an interesting idea. Guess something like that means it’ll be difficult to get bored of the same old thing, and almost not worry about maintaining a clock schedule. “I shee, I shee. And what elshe do you do?”
“……?”
“…Like, anything elshe beshides working? I know you come here to shop, or even jusht because you wanted to come, but ish there anywhere elshe you go to?”
“………A-part-ment.”
“Beshides your apartment.”
“…………………….”
“….Don’t tell me all you’ve been doing ish work, shop HERE specifically, and then go back to your room until you shtart working again, for an ENTIRE WEEK?”
“………………………………………..”
“….N-No way!!!”
Work, shop (or wander), sleep, and repeat?? And not even a lunch break??? With a whole catalogue of jobs, it sounds like those take up a majority of their day if her shop’s the only one they’ve ever visited so far. And as much as she appreciates their patronage and commitment to coming to this store, Ankh can’t help but feel like this was something she won’t stand for. Even sentient flying saucers ought to have a little bit of fun, right?
“Wait a minute outshide, I’ll be right there.” Motioning the UFO out of the shop, it only took her about a minute to collect what she needed before ultimately closing and locking the Cosmic Apparel Shop early for the day.
“…What… blue hu-man… doing?”
“The shop will be fine; I can open and closhe whenever I want to. Meanwhile….”
“I’m gonna take you to shome of my favorite places to shee!”
“……..Uh-huh.” Yeah, ok. Sure. Not that they had any idea just what ELSE they were supposed to be doing to begin with.
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エルシェ directly phonetically transcribed is "erushe" but you could theorhetically interpret it as either erushe/elshe
HMM.. alright thanks! i might go with elshe only because that’s what this translated site says? and it seems to be pretty accurate with stuff so far
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oh well thats a bummer * she leaned against the counter grabbing a brownie for herself * thats all i wanted to ask thank you flug
"well thank YOU!" Flug smiles stuffing his mouth with the heavenly brownies. How he doesn't stain his bag is beyond you or him. "You shure there ishn't anyshing elshe you need?" Flug gulps the copious amount of brownies. "These are amazing. If you want anything just say the word!" Flug chirps, eating.
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Breaking the Surface - Chapter 1: Cold Awakening
Hello there! Apologies I've been absent for quite a while with my writings but I've had a severe case of life happening. That and writer's block. I've been reading a lot of other people's fics though and this is something I've been thinking about writing for a while. Just glad I've finally got something published after so long! I'll try and keep this updated regularly since life has given me a break for the moment. Please leaves comments and tell me what you think! Any feedback will help me make this work the best that it possibly can be! So, without further ado, enjoy!
"Lance!" Becky yelled, causing Lance to groan and pull the covers over his head as if they could protect him from his already irate girlfriend, something which was becoming a default mode for her, even at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning.
"Lance!" Becky called again. "Lance if you don't get up right now I will come up there and kick you out myself! You know I will!"
With the memories and bruises still fresh from Becky's last gentle attempts to get him out of bed, Lance reluctantly tossed the covers off and groggily got out of bed. Lance still wasn't sure why he had to get up at the same hour that Becky did, it wasn't as if he had anywhere in particular he had to go anyway.
Grabbing a towel and heading towards the shower, he pushed the bedroom door open and mechanically headed towards the bathroom, his brain going on autopilot so he didn't see or hear the despairing look and exasperated sigh Becky tossed at him as his dishevelled frame trudged passed her.
Twiddling with the shower knobs and tentatively placing his paw under the water, Lance stepped into the small cubicle, allowing the water to flow over him as he stood there passively. While Lance knew, and had been reminded by Becky several times that he constantly looked as though he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, Lance did try to make himself somewhat clean and presentable. But, with things going the way they were, there didn't really seem to be too much point in worrying about his general hygiene too much.
Without paying too much attention, Lance went through the motions of lathering his fur with shampoo, rinsing it off and spending an inordinate amount of time drying his fur and spines. He really needed to get fur dryer but he accidentally busted Becky's the other week and Becky wasn't about to lend him his new one, so he'd been stuck with a towel dry for a while now, which was hellish and all but impossible to get his spines done.
Eventually giving up, shaking the excess water off his quills and allowing them to drip dry again, Lance wrapped his towel around himself and chucked his dirty clothes in the washing basket, not wanting another argument about the whole cleanliness thing this early again.
Heading back into the bedroom, with Becky too preoccupied with getting ready for work to give him anymore disparaging looks, Lance rummaged through one of his boxes for some clothes. He didn't blame Ash for dumping his stuff in those boxes and shoving on the street. Well, at the time Lance remembered a lot of colourful words being shouted at the impassive front door but he'd been freaking pissed then.
"She's overreacting." Lance had thought. "It's not like I was going to do anything. She was just jealous. So some other girl likes me. What a fucking surprise! Had she not met me? I'm me! I'm the fucking bomb! Who wouldn't be interested in me! Hell, if I weren't me I'd been interested in me! She just can't handle the fact that she may have some competition. That's it. Just can't hack someone friendly competition. She'll be crawling back soon. This was all temporary. Just a bump in the road. It's not like I'm gonna do anything with Becky. I mean, she's nice and all but, I mean come on! I'm not that fucking shallow! This was all just temporary. Just temporary…"
But she didn't come back. The door remained firmly shut and no matter how loud Lance would shout, no matter how often he texts or called, Ash remained as silent as the grave. Day after day he'd turn up and the same silence was his only reward for all his loud efforts.
He'd been rooming with Becky since he was kicked out. Sleeping on the sofa, obviously. He wasn't in to her. She was nice and liked to play at being a musician, but that's all she was, just someone to play along with. Nothing serious. Nothing permanent. Then he saw the concert.
Becky left but, disparaging her efforts but, as soon as she was out the room, Lance scrambled to the remote to watch her play again. She was… amazing. Her voice. Her guitar skills. Her power. That's what it was. Her sheer, unbridled, unadulterated power. She had those mammals on their feet cheering. Cheering for her. Just her. He watched, jaw slightly dropped until he turned the TV off, walked over to the kitchen, and pulled a bottle of Glenfiddich.
"How can she do this to me?" Lance had thought, chugging down another mouthful of whiskey from the bottle, the bottle nearly empty and an hour being lost to his internal venom. "She fucking needs me! I made her! What's she without me? A two-bit guitar player and I fucking showed her how to play! Could barely strum a G chord when I met her and now she's thinks she's Jimi fucking Hendrix or something! Those people they… they don't know talent if it appeared in front of them with a massive neon sign and a firework display spelling it out with a choreographed display happening round it. Fuck them all! Fuck her! Set free? SET FUCKING FREE! Set free from what?! She wasn't trapped! She didn't fucking escape anything! All I did was tell her a few truths! I'm not the bad guy here! She's the conniving bitch here! I'm the good guy!"
Downing the rest of the whiskey, Lance slowly got up from the sofa, his legs nearly buckling from the sudden movement. Looking to the bedroom where Becky had not re-emerged from, Lance stared at the door for what seemed to be an eternity, his mind contemplating his next move as the alcohol sloshed the rational thoughts out of the way, as he moved towards the door and was thoughts and warnings were consumed by the oblivion of the blackout.
Waking up, he didn't remember what had happened, but he could feel the shame and regret hit him like a freight train. Looking over, he saw Becky asleep, her mouth forming a little smile as she lay next to her guilt-ridden partner. He placed his head back on the pillow, staring up at the bland white ceiling. There was no going back. He didn't mean it, but he couldn't undo it now. He'd become the very thing that Ash had sung about. Someone to escape from. To be set free. And now he'd ensnared another in his web. Whether it was the bottle of whiskey or his feelings, he had to run to the bathroom to get all the bile out of him, knowing whatever he brought out of himself, it would be a mere fraction of what lay within him.
The first few days were so beautiful for Becky. She kissed him so loving every morning, played with him at gigs, made dinners just to show how much she cared. She wasn't the best at any of those things, but she tried. Goddamn she tried. He remembered her saying how perfect everything would be. How their life would be glorious and beautiful, not matter what anyone else said. Their relationship was all that mattered and they would have a life and home that matched. She was so hopeful, so caring, so… fucking naïve.
So here he was. Six months down the line on a dreary September day, still living out of the boxes that his ex had thrown out of their old flat while he lived a half-existence with a girl he never loved and turned her love of him into a deformed and decaying thing, it's colour faded from its early bright hues to a near blackened husk of its former self.
Throwing on his usual get-up, Lance wiped away the last vestiges of sleep and cleared his mind of the bitter thoughts and headed out to get some much-needed breakfast. Schlepping over to the kitchenette, Lance quickly made himself some cereal and planted himself on the sofa, mindlessly skimming through the TV channels.
"Urgh, seriously Lance? Can you not do that at the table?" Becky said, still doing her last touch up of mascara with her pocket mirror.
"'Ow elsh am I gonna watsh the TV?" Lance responded slovenly, every word having to negotiate its way round the cereal in his mouth.
"Ew, that's so disgusting!" Becky grimaced, before turning to check herself in her pocket mirror one last time for any defects in her appearance before snapping the mirror shut, satisfied with her work.
"Sorry." Lance replied, swallowing the food and casting his eyes away from Becky.
"Got any more gigs lined up then?" Becky asked, her tone implying it was more to fill the dead air than out of genuine interest.
"No… nothing yet." Lance eventually muttered in response.
It hadn't been hard to get gigs initially. Becky and he got gigs quite regularly, even becoming the favourites at some bars. For two whole months it had been going fine. Even after Ash's rise to fame their bookings didn't dwindle. They all knew she'd been with Lance but just assumed they'd decided to split and both had gone in different directions. At least, that's what Lancer had been saying. He needed the gigs and, so long as they drew in paying customers, the owners were happy to give them time to play.
But then the article happened.
He'd been woken up by the phone ringing, with a very cold sounding manager telling him not to darken his door again. Three more similar calls later and very little explanations as to why all his gigs were being scratched off led him to search the internet. Maybe someone had written a bad review or something. It wouldn't have been the first but definitely the first that cost him gigs like this.
He didn't need to look far.
It was everywhere. An article with Ash promoting her new album and giving the story behind her hit single. A reveal all story. A reveal all story that included him. A reveal all story that included him that did not put him the best light. Or any light for that matter. It was a character assassination except the assassin in question had not only put a bullet in his head, but rather had dropped an atomic bomb over him. There was not a shred of light of him left, just the pit of blackness that was Lance, the ex-boyfriend who belittled an up and coming star's dreams before galivanting off with some seductress of equal ill repute.
It can't be that bad, right? Lance thought. I mean, who hasn't had a bad breakup? I'm sure this'll all blow over soon. Something else will come up and overshadow this. No problem, I just have to wait this out. That's all.
Waiting it out took a bit longer than expected. Booked gigs vanished, door slammed in his face, glares and outright abuse became the norm from animals he's never even met before as well as those he'd known for years.
It was when he was out with Becky on their way to one of the few bars that hadn't slammed its door in their faces that a boar strode straight across the road and stood in front of them, his eyes blind with rage, looking not at Lance, but directly at Becky, into her eyes, as if he was trying to look directly into her soul.
"You are a fucking whore." And then he spat directly into Becky's face and abruptly marched away.
With the boar stalking off, Becky wiped off the saliva off her face, flicked it to the ground, wiped her paws on her dress, grabbed Lance off and led him to the gig, his face still uncomprehending and unmoving. They played the gig, got paid, and went home. It had been their best gig yet. Becky, while not the best singer in the world, somehow broke through whatever barrier that held her back and let her voice soar. Even the mostly hostile crowd softly applauded her efforts. And all the while, through every song, every chord, every note, Becky smiled. A smile so simple, so innocent, so good.
Lance had never heard anyone cry so hard. She curled up on the bed, bawling her eyes out. Those choking, guttural cries were almost primordial. It was if the boar had split her in two, bearing her innermost self, open to the world to judge while she, flayed, could do nothing.
Through all of it Becky had been supportive. She told him not to take notice, held his hand, encouraged him to go out with her to do gigs, even going out of her way to book them for him when he was too depressed or drunk to do it himself. She'd been his support, a lifeline, a compass in this hostile and seemingly unnavigable sea of bile, trying to get him to the shore where her almost saccharine promises lay of everything just being fine. And now she was letting everything seep out and stain the sheets below her, as if everything that kept her up had snapped.
All Lance could do was feebly hold her. He didn't say anything. What could he say? That it would be okay? Even if he didn't truly love her, he couldn't lie to her like that. Couldn't promise those sweet dreams she promised him. It wasn't his way. All he could do was hold her so she wouldn't be alone.
She got a job in real estate two week later. It was good for her, she had always been a kind and chatty person so it suited her. She met other animals, animals who weren't interested in the music scene. Normal animals. Animals into gossip, fashion, TV shows, all that jazz. Good animals. It was just what Becky needed and Lance wasn't going to stop her. She needed something good in her life. Something normal. Something pleasant. Something that wasn't Lance.
It wasn't long later that the seams of their relationship finally started to fray. It was inevitable really, Lance could see it as soon as the headlines were plastered all over the online forums. But neither compelled themselves to end it. Instead, they existed next to each other. They lived their separate lives, said the occasional nice word, though those turned mean-spirited sooner than either had anticipated or wanted.
Becky reached for handbag and, with a last flick of her hair, began making her way to the door. Lance had to admit, for all the bitchiness that had surfaced from within her, she still looked wonderful. Maybe it was because Lance was looking up at her from the sofa, Becky gave out a sigh, and turned towards him.
"Lance" she began tentatively "I think it's time to face facts. You need to get a job."
Lance looked down at his cereal bowl glumly, avoiding her gaze. He knew this conversation had been coming, perched in the backgrounds of both their minds for a while like an unwanted guest. He didn't want to face it, but he knew he would have to silence its incessant cawing at some point, and it seemed the time had come.
"I… I know, but it's hard Becky."
"Have you been looking?" Becky replied with a bit of sharp directness in her tone.
"Well, you know" Lance said, rubbing his paw against the back of his head "I'm not exactly the most qualified person in the world…"
It wasn't a lie per se, Lance had good qualifications behind him, but they were just from secondary school and thinking back to the days when he tried to get a job to help him while getting into the punk scene, many saw his GCSE's of all A's as being someone who wouldn't exactly be there in a year's time, so they all turned him down.
But Becky wasn't buying it.
"Come on Lance, I know you're not stupid and you're not a teenager anymore. You've got some brains in there somewhere, so get using them and get a job! Anything Lance! Shop Assistant, Waiter, Janitor, bloody well anything!"
"You think it's that easy!" Lance returned hotly. "You think I can just turn up somewhere and go 'Hi, I'm Lance, that guy who broke what seems like the world's favourite singer's heart? Can I start Monday?' I'd be lucky to get out of there with all my quills on my back!"
Lance was stood up now and seeing red now, the bottled-up rage built up within him threatening to explode. "Half the world crosses the street to avoid me and the other half to shout abuse or worse! What chance do I have Becky? What fucking chance…" The anger left him, his legs giving way as he slumped back down on the settee.
"Hate to break it sweetheart" Lance continued dejectedly "but no-one's hiring a cheating scumbag, and especially ones whose only accomplishment in his field of choice was managing to strum the guitar without setting it on fire."
Huffing slightly and looking at her watch as if it was worth her time responding to Lance's mini-tirade or whether she should get going to avoid being late. Looking up, Lance saw the determination in her eyes. She wasn't finished.
"Look Lance, I don't want to deal with your self-pitying shit right now. I've got to go to work and it's getting old now. I got shit too, remember? A life that doesn't revolve around the pity show that is Lance Morgan." Lance winced. She only used her last name when she was making a point.
"Rent's not cheap you know" Becky continued, her voice rising in anger "and it's about time you started paying me back. Do you know how much time I've missed going out with friends? Buying things just 'cos I want them? Going to the pictures? Having fun?! It feels like an eternity and I've got a schmuck of a boyfriend who won't try anymore because of a few bad words!"
Becky's paws were trembling with anger and Lance's could barely keep eye contact with her, the shame tasting like bile in his throat.
"Do you realise how I feel? Being with someone I have to mother just to get him to do basic stuff? Jesus Lance, I'm younger than you! I don't need to be doing this shit! I know the world's been unkind to you but whoop-dee-fucking-do! I've not had an easy ride either you know? I've had the abuse, the comments, the looks, but look at me! I've got a job, I've got friends, I've got a life! You, you're just… a fucking embarrassment…"
Becky marched over to the front door, swinging open forcefully and stared out into the empty corridor. She seemed to stand there for an age before, she slowly shook her head. Not looking back to see Lance's face, Becky said quietly, anger still on the edge of her voice. "I don't care what it is you do Lance, just do something. Anything. You can't coup yourself up in here forever. I won't allow it. If you don't, then I'll…" Leaving the sentence unfinished, Becky left, slowly letting the door click shut behind her, leaving Lance with a pained look and cereals starting to go soggy.
#sing 2016#sing#lance#becky#fanfic#new story#hope you like it#fanfiction#fanfiction.net#ao3#archive of our own#breaking the surface#chapter 1
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xs chinese masterpost
source: me ABC, grew up w chinese-speaking family (mando)
note: christy hui comes from hong kong, which iirc speaks canto so some of the pinyin is diff from in-show pronunciation/official spelling + in-show spelling/pronunciation does not use tones so its p hard to be 100% sure but here's my best guesses. also my phone cant make the 1st or 3rd tone so itll be represented äëïöü and âêîôû respectively
xiaolin: 小林 (xiâolín) - actual martial art is called shàolín 少林, so the first character is most likely swapped out for the character for "small"
shen gong wu: 神功物 (shéngöng wù) - literally， "miraculous objects"
dashi: 大师 (dàshï) - literally, "grand master" (so like how master shifu from kung fu panda is "master master," grand master dashi is "grand master grand master")
wuya: 乌鸦 (wüyä) - "crow" (you probably already knew this one)
fung: 丰 (fëng) - "abundant/plentiful"/common surname (quick note, east asian cultures put the surname first so it's v likely he just goes by his surname. fung is the canto pinyin from what i can tell bc it literally doesnt exist in mando pinyin, plus im p sure closeups show that character on his medallion sometimes)
shen yi bu: 伸一步 (shën yíbù) - "extend (by) a step" - so like, "extend the showdown by a step by wagering two wu at a time"
lao mang lone: 老命龙 (lâo mìng lóng) - "long life dragon" - this one is harder bc i have no idea where the official spelling came from but in-show it's always pronounced lao ming long, so that's what i always assumed it meant...long life dragon...
wudai/shoku: frick man, idk. my best guess for wudai is like, 五带 wûdài (fifth belt)? i can't think of any specifically good fits. shoku looks japanese though so dont ask me about that
guan: 观 (guän) - "to observe" but more importantly, my theory re: guan is that he's a boddhisatva and specificaly named/modeled after guanyin, thus, the guan from guanyin's name 观音
#xiaolin showdown#elsh says#anyway since there's no in-show chinese and the official spellings are kind of...weird...#i could be totally off the mark#and since there's no tones i could totally be even more off the mark#for example dashi's name#is homophonous with like 3000 things#most noticeably#大屎#big shit#grand master large poop#me and my sister had a giggle about that back in the day#so yeah if you have a diff hc or have a diff combo of characters ur probably just as valid as me#this is also pretty fun for kung fu panda btw like po's name is literally 'chubby/fat'#and tai lung is probably literally named#(something) dragon#eh#anyway#long post
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