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keen-li · 5 months

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Only one | 02

Warnings: toxic relationship trauma, trauma in general, mentally broken oc, manipulation, yendere jungkook. [Still more warnings to be added]

Psychiatrist jungkook x patient reader

....

"I can't do that" you shake your head, your heart being strangled by his statement.

"I don't think I'm able to do that Mr jeon" he looks into your wide and teary eyes. He knows it's hard for you to stay here any longer but you have to for this to work.

"You can I believe in you. You're a strong girl" your heart throbs when he says that feeling a little motivated but no feeling can beat the feeling of having to here any longer.

"But why do i have to?" You ask him and he finally stands straighten out his clothes and arranging the watch on his wrist.

"You know you're not fully well right?" His tone goes between a casual and professional tone.

You lower your head finally knowing your progress. Fiddling with your fingers you nod.

His raised brow lowers as he smirks.

"So if I discharged a girl who is clearly known around to be unwell"

"Wouldn't that suspicious?"

You understand what he means but it doesn't make the information anymore digestible.

"So if you stay a little longer and prove that you're well enough to leave. It won't be so suspicious when I tell them you can leave."

He's right but staying here for another month is too much. You thought when he brought up this offer he'd take you out of here in a day or two, but a whole month??

You sigh thinking about it for a little longer. A month shouldn't be longer than the time you'd actually have to spend here without his help. This is your best option, it's gonna be over before you know it right?

"You said you trust me right?" He walks towards you one hand in the pocket as his slow and confident steps take him to you. You breath heavily as his figure towers over you darkly. You use all the muscles in your neck to look up at the man, your hands grip the material of your clothes tighter.

He hums asking you the question again,

"I do" he smiles at that.

"Good. Then trust me, trust this process." He talks to you lightly and gently, pressing you to agree.

"Will you?" Why does it feel like you have to agree to this, like it's your best and only option inorder to leave this place. It is your best and only option to leave this place quickly.

"I will" your lips break into a smile which he silently chuckles at.

"It's gonna go by so fast I promise"

He walks away from you going back to where he left his stuff.

"And don't tell anyone about this. It's our little secret" he grins as he says secret, which you nod to smiling unsurely and awkwardly.

"I trust you can keep a secret"

He goes back to his original spot wearing his glasses and holding his notebook in his hands.

And just like that he goes back to his professional Mr jeon, as though you didn't just talk about him helping you escape this place. It's not really escaping though. You continue your session and you seem a little off but he doesn't.

.....

"I'm glad they've given us something new today" you hear one of the girls at the table, where you sit silently, say.

You eat your food, making sure to savour the surprisingly seasoned chicken. They're must be a special occasion today, cause they never put much effort into making food for you guys.

"I heard there are new sponsors" the black haired girl sitting next to you whispers.

"Really? They must have alot of money. Cause the previous sponsors didn't do shit" She whispers the last part dramatically looking around hoping no one has heard. The last thing she wants people to hear is her talking shit about sponsors though everyone knows it's true.

"Yeah. But I'm not sure if it's new sponsors" the girl next to you says not wanting to be blamed for any rumours.

"What do you think y/n" they throw the question to a dissociated you.

"Huh?" You look at them confused mind clogged with others thoughts.

"Sponsors. Do you think we have new sponsors" you honestly

Couldn't care less about who sponsors the hospital right now, your mind is just on the fact that Mr jeon is going to help you leave this place.

"I don't know" you say turning your eyes back to your food not giving much care to the topic. They notice your uninterested demeanor and give each other confused look.

"Y/n are you okay" they ask concerned. No you're not okay the fact that you're living every day here waiting for the end of the month is killing you. You know that very soon you're gonna leave the few friends you've made here makes you sad cause you can't even tell them about it. you really do wanna tell them about it but Mr jeon said its a secret, and you have to keep your promise to Mr jeon.

You may miss your friends but at the end of the day you still miss home and wanna go back.

"You've been off lately. Unlike yourself"

At her words you give a small laugh hopefully soothing her concern.

"I'm okay. I just-" You wanna say it. It would really help to tell someone about it.

"I've just been missing home lately nothing serious." You give another laugh.

"That's serious y/n. You can't let thoughts like that eat you up alone, you can always talk to us we're your friends"

"Yeah she's right. Don't suffer by yourself it's not good."

You smile at them warmly. "Thank you guys I really appreciate it but seriously I'm fine"

They give you an 'Okay' nod as you all go back to eating your food.

As you continue to eat your food and count the number of days , hours, minutes and seconds are left before the end of the month the attention of the diner is called for.

The whole diner including yourself turn to look at the familiar face of the diner guard who speaks. Looks like an announcement, you never get announcements during lunch.

"So.." the man starts "tomorrow We're gonna be having a carnival day" when he says that a series of murmurs are heard in the diner.

"You'll receive leaflets on the events that will be carried out tomorrow" and as he says this one of the nurse hands everyone at your table a leaflet. You stare at the colourfully designed leaflet, the large words and pictures displayed everywhere. This is definitely new, a carnival event.

"I was right. There are definitely new sponsors" you hear the girl still stuffing her face next to you say.

You place the paper into your pockets not staring at it for long unlike the rest of the diner.

"What? Are you not excited?" She asks noticing your dull face again. You're really acting different.

"I am saving it to read in my room." You say. You don't want your friend's last days, sounds dramatic, to be of your being gloomy and moody. You wanna enjoy this time with them, and this event is the perfect opportunity. You don't even know if you'll see them again anyway.

She nods at you and everyone goes back to finishing their food.

....

You walk around side by side with sycily, the black haired girl from the diner. You both look around with wide eyes at the brightly decorated event, you both gasp and pull at each other's arms when you see something you like. You're both behaving like children.

"What should we do first" it's a free event so you can do anything for however long you want to but its hard to choose when there are so many options. You look around hoping to have an answer for your wide grinned friend. You shrug your shoulders not able to choose.

"Maybe we can-" You're cut off mid sentence when a bearded man in a stand calls out for the two of you.

"You can start here" you look at him then turn to your also curious friend asking with your eyes if you should go. She agrees and you both make your way to the booth. As you approach you notice the perfectly arranged bottles and the rings in the man's hands. Its ring toss, you were never good at this game. The man smiles warmly at the both of you which you both return. You can see the large variety of prizes hanged around the booth, you hope you win so you can get the cute panda that you've got your eyes on.

"You looked lost, so I thought I'd give you a helping hand in choosing " he hands you the rings picking you as the first one to play. You take them into your dry hands feelings the texture of the rings and their weight.

"There are so many fun games to play, so I understand if the choice was a little difficult" he smiles glazing his eyes over the scenery behind you which you both do again admiring the beautiful place once more. These sponsors really made the plane, large and boring looking hospital ground into something in a movie, plus in less than three days. We never thought we'd be having a carnival when we saw people working on the grounds. Movements were restricted as they built this up, everybody had guesses but not this. The hospital is pretty much a boring place besides the hobbies and clubs they have.

"Okay you can have a go" they man says pointing that you should start tossing. Sycily watches you intently as you nod and turn your body to the clear bottles.

You hold one ring at the tip of your fingers as you prepare to toss it. You don't want to over think it and just toss it. Your throw is weak and doesn't go far, it doesn't even land on the bottle. You hear sycily laugh and you send her a death glare.

"The further you throw it, the larger the prize" he says, and it feels like he's laughing at you.

You run the second ring on your fingertips as you prepare to take your second throw. You only have three chances, so you gotta think it through if you wanna get that panda.

Throw.

You groan as the red little ring lands at the end of the booth, past the bottles.

"When he said further he didn't mean that far" sycily mumbles avoiding your glare.

"I'm gonna toss you over these bottles next" you threaten as she giggles at you. You can hear the man laugh at your interaction as you're trying to focus on your next and last toss.

"You guys seem to be very good friends" he says fondly and sycily nods.

"We are but she's getting on my bad side" your tone is playful but with a threat behind. You give her one last glare as she avoids your gaze once more making you smile.

Now back to the game, you need to get this right, you really want that panda.

You've always loved pandas. Or maybe it was that time when you and your parents went on a trip to China and saw those cute pandas. You even got the chance to feed one of them.

"You know you're they same age" the care taker of the panda said when you told her you're five years old, lifting your tiny little fingers to emphasise. You learnt that by yourself. And maybe that's why you felt drawn to that panda, and all the other pandas. You were both babies being held captive.

"Take your time" the man assures you snaping you back to what you're doing. You sigh as you throw the little ring. And just like the rest it doesn't land for a second you thought it landed but just like everything else in this world, it mocks you by making you think you've actually won.

"Argh" you groan frustrated.

"It's okay you can try again later." He comforts you but honestly you don't plan on coming back to try again.

You give a practiced smile "thank you" you say as sycily prepares for her turn after she gave you a warm comforting smile. Can they see how hard it is on you to lose the chance to get that panda.

The man walks to a tiny basket filled with things you can't see from where you're standing. He pulls out a green beaded bracelet as he hands it to you.

"Here have this" you look at him confused to why he's giving you a prize when you didn't win.

"Don't think of it as a prize, but think of it as a thank you for giving your all to a silly little game" you don't know if you should be offended but he smiles so warmly and you know he's just trying his best to comfort.

You stretch your wrist to him as he places the the bracelet on your wrist. You give him a small smile and thank you as he goes to stand by where he was standing when you were playing. He nods at you appreciateing your gratitude.

Sycily nails all her tries, unlike you, but you're too distracted by the bracelet to notice , you can just hear her cheers and claps.

It's actually a very beautiful bracelet the beads are pea sized and the see through crystal green allows you to see the elastic string that passes through all of them. Your attention is caught by the little silver tag, that swings when you move your hand. You pull it closer to your eyes so you can see the word engraved on the oval shaped metal.

BUSENE.

Must be the name of the sponsors cause you've seen it on almost everything here. You don't give it much thought cause there's nothing to think of. Just a company flaunting their brand during an event which they sponsored, nothing new.

You let your wrist fall as you eye a celebrating sycily who holds her white bunny in her arms.

You clap as she walks to you all smiles and giggles.

"Let's go to another booth and win you something" She pulls your arms as you walk away. When you do, a group of people approach the booth you've just left, they're all smiles and laughs too. It's nice to see people having fun and enjoying a day at the hospital.

You and sycily play some other games and luckily you did end up winning some prizes, but no panda. You guess the pandas are only at that booth. You don't want to be gloomy because you didn't get a panda atleast you had others.

You and sycily did also end up getting some food, which was so delicious and FREE.

"Ahh look at me" you hear her whine as she's trying to get rid of the ketchup stain on her hospital clothes. Yes, you all still had to wear the hospital clothes so that you didn't get mixed up with anyone who never belonged to it.

"You should go get cleaned" you see her struggle with the stain.

"Yeah you're right, the day's almost over anyway" She says letting go of the top.

"Plus we can come back tomorrow" She was right the carnival is still gonna be there for 2 more days. You both walk back to your rooms arms locked as you say hi to some of your other friends or sycily's friends. You never had much friends sycily was your closest friend. You never cared about having many friends, you were used to being alone anyway.

You and sycily became close cause you both shared similar problems; toxic family, toxic relationships. You've both experienced it all. Trauma bonding. You two trauma bond alot, and that's why you trust eachother. Knowing that you're gonna be leaving her alone in here with no one to confined in makes you feel bad especially the fact that you can't help her and you can't stay longer. "You're the only one I trust and can talk to like this." She'd say each time you'd talk about your pasts. And now thinking about it makes your heart ache.

Maybe you can ask Mr jeon to help her too.

.....

You're seated on your bed staring and playing the with green bracelet you got at the carnival. It's been three days since the carnival ended and you can't help but think about the closer the end of the month is getting but sycily can't stop talking about the carnival. You can barely hear what she's saying clearly cause she's saying alot at once. But you're distracted anyways, it's been a while since you've had something to look at.

"Are you excited for the art exhibition?" She asks you and it's clear enough for you to hear and answer to.

"When is it again?" You're genuinely curious cause alot has been on your mind.

"You can't remember?" She asks you disappointed that you couldn't remember the date. You shake your head genuinely not knowing.

"It's in like two months" Two months.

"And I know I'm too excited for something that's so far away, but I just can't wait for you to finally see it"

She hasn't allowed you to see the art work she's been working on cause it should be a 'surprise'. She's been a part of the art club from ever since you knew her, she tried getting you into it but it wasn't your style. Atleast at the moment. The only club you've been able to join and be in is the book club. You loved to read books and talk about what you've read and what your opinions are of the story.

"I can't wait for you to see it and be there." She says giving you a giddy laugh and all you can do is give her a low and sad grin, knowing you won't be there. She continues to express how excited she is.

"Can I tell you something" your serious and concerning tone cuts off her rumbling. She stops and stares at you mimicking your sad look.

"Yeah sure" She moves to seat next to you. "What's the problem"

"Promise me you won't tell anyone"

......

Taglist: @ane102

You can dm the if you wanna join the ONLY ONE taglist. No ageless blogs allowed.

#fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jeongkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #yendere jungkook

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year

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Tabula Rasa: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter another." - Anatole France

High school was such a weird era in most of the teams' lives. For Spencer, he was twelve, Pen looked too happy, JJ was the pretty popular jock, Derek wasn't half as muscular as he is now, you were too awkward, and Emily was growing into her goth phase.

Never have you been so excited to look at high school pictures than you are at this moment.

Penelope hacked the records from everyone's high school, with their permission, of course. Emily is sitting at her desk, listening to you, Spencer, and Penelope tease at the gothic look she sported in the 80s.

"It's remarkable. Something like this makes you question everything you thought you knew," Spencer says dramatically.

"Wait, there was a time when this was socially acceptable?" you giggle and snatch the picture away from Spencer.

"Oh, you two are young," Penelope says in a longing voice. "The eighties left a lot of people confused. This is especially sad, though."

"Alright, very funny," Emily rolls her eyes and snatches the picture from you. "What did you do to it? You obviously altered it in photoshop or something."

"Oh, no, pussycat. That's all you. Garfield High, class of '89," Penelope smirks.

"You really didn't change anything?" she mutters.

"Are you saying you don't remember looking like that?" you ask and lean back in your chair.

"Perhaps your lack of recognition stems from a dissociative fugue suffered in adolescence, say, at a Siouxsie and the Banshees concert?" Spencer grins.

Hotch comes out of his office with a distressed look on his face. He was on the phone the entire time, and you're worried about what he might have been talking about.

"What's going on?" you ask.

"Brian Matloff."

"Who is that?" you ask and look at Spencer since he remembers everyone.

"The Blue Ridge Strangler. There were three victims in the Blue Ridge Parkway four years ago. Allegedly, he killed them but he slipped into a coma before he could be tried."

"Looks like they're finally gonna get their chance. He just woke up. I'm going to the hospital."

Hotch hopes that this guy can remember what he did because four years is a long time to break from a case. You weren't part of this team four years ago, so you're not familiar with any of the details like some of your other coworkers.

You and Emily are the only ones in the dark about this.

However, when Hotch got to the hospital, he didn't receive good news. Brian Matloff may have woken up from a four-year-long coma, but he doesn't remember a thing. The doctor says he has focal retrograde amnesia. It's hard to recover your memories from that kind of amnesia, but you have no doubt that your team will try to get him to remember.

From what you read, Brian had a type: brunette, young, and physically fit women. All the victims were jogging alone in the early morning when he grabbed them... allegedly. The only key witness to place Brian at the scene of the crime is Marvin Leopold, but he died two years ago.

Marvin was able to place Brian at the park with Darci Corbett, the third victim. The warrant the police got and the indictment were made largely because of the witness. Everything else is circumstantial, so without a witness, then Brian could walk free.

While Hotch and Cece Hillenbrand, the prosecutor in Brian's case, prep and talk about the trial you know they are going to have, Rossi gathered the rest of the team to go over the case in more detail.

The last known victim, Darci Corbett, had ligature marks on her that seemed to match the last two victims before her. Brian uses a belt as his signature piece, and he takes trophies from each of the victims, which would explain why Darci's watch was missing from her person when they found her.

He'd always bury the victims face down, which is a sign of remorse as if he doesn't want to look them in the face. That doesn't necessarily mean that he knew them personally, just that he regretted killing them. Each of the victims were an opportunity. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, is all.

"After the raid on Matloff's apartment, we discovered he had another area of interest. Native American mythology. We realized our profile wasn't complete," Derek explains since he was there on the original case.

"There's a Native American belief that says burying a body face down traps the soul and prevents it from haunting the killer."

"Is that why he buried them like that?" you ask your boyfriend.

"That's the theory."

"Three women in shallow graves. I don't see any progression. There's no learning curve. Do you think there could have been earlier victims when he was honing his skills?"

"We considered it a possibility," Derek answers. "It turned out Matloff worked in Blue Ridge Parkway for the forest service. He had free reign over the entire park."

"It says here he was raised Polish Catholic. Any idea what led him to identify with Native American culture?" JJ wonders.

"We didn't get that far. Another thing we never got was any physical evidence at his apartment tying him to the crimes."

"What about the trophies he took? Surely they're somewhere," you say.

"We couldn't find them. Question is, what did he do with them?"

"If we didn't need the answer to that before, we do now," Hotch says when he enters the briefing room. "It turns out our star witness has been dead for two years."

"He was the only one who could put Matloff at the scene," Derek sighs.

"There might be another way," Spencer thinks. "He could undergo brain fingerprinting. Essentially, it's the recording and analysis of an individual's neurological responses to images and words flashed on a screen. If we show him pictures of the crime scenes, he could start to remember enough to get a proper trial."

"Only the judge can allow that, and let's hope that she does."

Cece is requesting Hotch to give his testimony in court, and of course, you're going to go. As soon as Brian woke up, the court wanted him in as soon as possible for trial. Cece is a damn good prosecutor from what you hear, and she will try her best to get him put in jail for the crimes he's committed.

Only you and Spencer are sitting in the gallery of people while Cece and Hotch are fighting in this trial.

"We'd like to request that the defendant undergo the process of brain fingerprinting. This procedure will show if the memories of the crimes are present in the mind of the defendant, regardless of whether or not he chooses to recall them," Cece requests.

Lester Sterling, Brian's defense attorney, stands up quicker than you can imagine.

"Your honor, where do I begin? The science on this type of testing is unproven, to say the least."

"In the state of Iowa vs. Terry Harrington, the results were ruled admissible as scientific evidence as defined in congress ruling 702 and in Daubert v. Merrell."

"This is a hail mary, your honor. They have no evidence and they know it. Beyond that, my client is in a very fragile mental state. I can't, in good conscience, let them go poking around in his brain."

"What about that? Is it safe?" the judge asks Cece, and Hotch stands up to answer.

"The test is non-invasive and completely safe. They'll simply be looking at images on a computer screen while an EEG monitors his brain activity."

"Subject him to graphic imagery to prompt some kind of reaction, which they can then point to as evidence of guilt? It's perverse," Lester fights for his client.

"I want to do it," Brain says.

"Just one moment, your honor," Lester chuckles.

He sits back down to talk to him, but Brian stands up to speak directly to the judge.

"Your honor, every day I wake up to this nightmare of not knowing who or what I am. If this test can really help me remember, then whatever the consequences, I want to do it. I have to."

With the client on board, the judge grants Hotch to let him do the tests. The trial is adjourned until tomorrow, so you can rest easy knowing that as of right now, everyone is safe from Brian. Whether he knows or not, you know he's guilty. Your ability runs much deeper than the surface, so you can see the blood on his hands whether or not his brain wants him to remember.

You and Spencer leave the courtroom while Brian is taken away. Cece and Hotch work with the court to get the test ready in the courthouse, and you're just waiting for them to start. You want to be present for this because you might get something that the other won't.

"Dr. Reid."

You and Spencer stop and turn to face the man who is the father of Darci Corbett. You've never met this man before, but Spencer was on the original case back then, so he's familiar with your boyfriend.

"Mr. Corbett. I didn't see you in there. How have you been?"

"Oh, not bad, considering. You aren't buying into this amnesia thing, are you?"

"We're trying to figure that out, sir," you say. "Sorry, I'm agent Y/N. I'm new to your daughter's case, but we're working as hard as we can."

"It's probably something the lawyer thought up. It won't work, will it?" Liam asks, looking back at Spencer.

"We have a pretty strong case."

"Good, that's good. You look different. Your hair is different."

You feel a sudden surge of proudness for your boyfriend. He's the most handsomest man you've ever laid your eyes on, and you're glad others are seeing that.

"It's been four years," Spencer chuckles.

"Right. I forget. Sometimes I feel like Darci's just... It messes with time, this thing. You know? You lose time. You always hear about closure, you know? But you never really know what that means. Maybe now I can get on with things, you know?"

"How is Mrs. Corbett doing?" you ask, remembering he had a wife when Darci died. "Is she here?"

"No, we split up. It was too hard to... It was my fault, really. I wasn't there for her. Everything is going to be okay now."

"Well, I am going to oversee the test with Hotch and Cece. I'll catch up with you later."

You lean up and kiss Spencer's cheek before leaving the duo. When you enter the room, Brain is getting set up with wires attached to the EEG machine. Cece is waiting in the hallway, and there is a police officer inside the room assigned to watch over Brian until he is either put in jail or released.

"You're with the FBI, right?" Brian asks as the doctor sets him up.

"You don't remember me? We met during the investigation."

"So, you don't have any doubts about me, right? About who and what I am?"

"No, I don't."

"We're ready here," the doctor says.

You and Hotch leave the room to join Cece in the hallway. The test begins, and pictures of the crime scene, of the victims, and anything related to the case are shown on TV. Brian watches with wide eyes, but you can't tell whether it's working or not. You're not a doctor, and you don't know how to read an EEG machine.

Picture after picture after picture is shown, but Brian doesn't change expressions.

"What do you see?" Hotch whispers to you.

Cece looks at you and is intrigued by his question, but doesn't say anything.

"I don't know Brian or exactly what he's done, but I get the feeling he doesn't remember any of it. I know he did it though. I can see the blood on his hands. He wants to remember, but his brain locked it away while he was in a coma. It's there, we just need to find a way to unlock that door."

Hotch's phone rings, and he steps off to the side when he sees JJ calling.

"Yeah, JJ?"

"I'm at the hospital. I may have something interesting. Matloff had a visitor that came about once every 6 months while he was here."

"Is it somebody we know?"

"It's not a name I recognize from the case file. The name on the visitor log is Nina Moore."

"Track her down. I gotta go."

Hotch hangs up just as the testing is done. The officer removes Brian from the room so you can talk to the doctor about his results.

"He tested no mermers across the board on each variable image."

"Mermers?" Cece asks.

"It's an acronym. Memory and Encoding Related Multi-faceted--"

"Is it good or bad?" Cece cuts her off, eager to move this along.

"That depends on how you look at it."

"What she means is that he showed no familiarity with the images. Either he really doesn't remember, or we got the wrong guy."

Cece groans in frustration, and you turn to Hotch with a determined look on your face.

"I know he did it, sir. I can see it. He doesn't want to remember."

"Well, the fact that you can see it isn't admissible in court, so we're going to have to prove it or he walks free."

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mikuni14 · 7 months

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Only Friends Ep 8

I'm starting to wonder how they'll cope with life after college, based on what I saw in this episode.

Sand: tries to set boundaries, tries to limit contacts with Ray, is open to starting a new chapter (new relationship), unfortunately love makes him give in to Ray. Nevertheless, Sand is doing something, moving forward, taking care of his affairs. Sand generally seems to be able to do well in life, his weakness is love, although, let's be onest, it is only a matter of the object of his feelings. Top: he maintains an admirable calm throughout his interactions with Mew, even when he is publicly humiliated, only losing his temper when provoked by people who are not Mew (like Sand and Ray). Top doesn't make excuses for what he did, he doesn't fight, he is willing to sacrifice his dignity for Mew. Top seems to be able to do well in life, he takes initiative, love is his strength and motivation for change. What I like about Top is that he takes responsibility for his actions, probably the only one of them all, and he doesn't sink deeper and deeper in "nastiness" as they all tend to do. I liked how he takes responsibility for what happens to Mew. Nick: he also takes action, he both tries to gest Boston back and works on his career and future, he gets a job, we see him being active. He has life outside his love affairs. It seems to me that Nick will do well in life, love motivates him (not necessarily positively), although it is related to the "quality" of the object of his affection (same as with Sand). With a "good" guy, I think Nick can create a successful relationship. Boston: the king of this episode 👑. He caused the most mess and chaos and he simply shows up at the party, joins the guy with whom he had a scandal, which messed up his life and, on top of that, starts another problematic relationship. How can I not like him, my hands are tied. Boston sets boundaries with Nick and unlike Sand, he's sticking to them (at least for now). I wonder if Atom will be a new version of Nick (it seems that he was specifically targeting Boston) or if he will adapt to him. This may be the case after he was fine with keeping their hook up a secret. I feel like Boston is the only one of them all who isn't looking for love, probably doesn't even want it. Boston completely dissociates himself from Nick and is able to ignore him, which proves his lack of feelings for him (completely different from when compared to Mew). Will Boston make it in life? Hmm, with so much sass, confidence and arrogance, he has to lmao. Boston's problem is underestimating other people and their feelings, and it can harm him, as it harmed him now (and Boston didn't learn from that).

Mew: he may have a problem in his adult life, because so far nothing has happened in his lukewarm, boring and bland life, so he was coping well: he was a good student, he had no conflicts. With the first major problem, Mew lost all control over himself and his life. And it was just a heartbreak. On the scale of life's problems, although painful, it is still not the worst. In addition, Mew's problem has become a problem of others. He didn't start it, he was a victim in all this, but when shit hit the fan, he couldn't deescalate it, handle it, or even try to handle it, the problem spread to everyone. I mean, literally everyone was sudddenly involved. I don't blame him, this is probably the first major bad event in his life. But this spiral of self-destruction is very telling. Ray: well, he... screams. At this point, I don't see how Ray's life will improve after college. Mainly for one reason - Ray has zero reflection on his life. Ray doesn't face ANY consequences for his actions, which ends with him having an accident - in which he is, again!, extremely lucky, someone else saves him and after which he has no reflections. He treats the punishment given as something to be done and forgotten and an opportunity to flirt with Sand (I must admit that this scene irritated me af). Ray is kept afloat by his friends and the closeness with them forced by their studies, but after graduation each of his friends will start their own lives, will have to find a job, an apartment… no one will have time for him. Over time, the presence of a drunk and drug addict who is one step away from killing himself or other people will become a burdensome acquaintance. The sad truth is that unless Ray wants to improve himself (I mean heal), he will simply have no life, possibly literally. Can Sand help him? I doubt it, Sand makes alcohol himself, and in this episode he proved that even though he wants to, he can't set boundaries with him. I'm afraid Ray needs to hit rock bottom for real change to happen in his life. Unfortunately, after everyone around him keeps saving him, he still misses the real consequences of his choices.

Personally, I found it funny how after Ray confronted the imaginary "boyfriend Mew" with the real "boyfriend Mew" he immediately started looking for Sand's company 😃 Unfortunately, Ray is too drunk or high and too self-centered to connect the dots.

Of all of them, Top behaves the most maturely, because being responsible for yourself, for your actions and choices, and facing the consequences, even the unpleasant ones, is a sign of maturity.

I'm looking forward to Daddy Dan with Nick, although I hope that the boss-subordinate relationship will be more Jun&Jun, less Step by Step. I don't need a new drama, this time work-related 😑

#only friends #only friends the series #thai bl #bl drama

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menalez · 1 year

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Hello miss mena. I’m sorry to bother you with another of these “am i a lesbian or not” asks you seem to get so many of. I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to, and you seem willing to answer for other people, so I thought maybe it would be okay. If not please ignore. Either way I hope you’re alright and having a good day and wish you well.

I’m not attracted to men. Sexually or romantically. I don’t want them to touch me. I don’t want to date one or sleep with one. I’m fine being friends with them or working with them. I prefer the company of women though. I can be attracted to some women, but I don’t know what aspects I’m attracted to, physically or emotionally.

I was trafficked, as a kid. From when I was 4-6, I think, but I don’t really remember and I have nobody to remember for me and nobody to ask. I got out when I was 18 but it involved sex with men and women that I didn’t get a say in. After that I’ve not been very.. healthy, sex wise, I don’t think.

I was married for four years to a woman I loved, but the marriage was dead in days when she found out my history. She said that by touching me she was touching every dick I had ever touched and I was raping her. So I did not touch her again and we got divorced. She said that she had been a gold star lesbian until I had touched her. If that’s what being a lesbian is, then I must not be one and never could be.

I’m still trying to learn that it’s not normal to just dissociate and get fucked in order to pay for something. My body still moves and talks like I’m there, but I’m not. I spent a while homeless until I found a guy who would let me live at his place and use his shower, but over time “one blowjob a week” turned into “not allowed to move or leave a room without explicit orders and god forbid you take the leash off.”

Once I got the money to be able to run, I did. I got a decent job. Stopped dating for years. Didn’t want to hurt anyone by touching them like I did my ex wife. If just touching me can make someone not a lesbian anymore I should stay away from people.

The next person to ask me out was a trans woman. I didn’t like them but that doesn’t matter if they like me, right? I like women and can dissociate through sex with dick and spent my childhood learning what to do with it so why not. But I couldn’t. Maybe I’m a bad person.

Saved up, moved again. I thought maybe this time when I made new friends I could just say I was an actual lesbian, make it so I didn’t have to deal with dick at all ever again. But I don’t have that right, do I. I’ve done it before. So I have to be open to it again. I dated guys in high school. I have no right to rule them out or say no. Just because I didn’t have a choice before doesn’t mean I get a choice now, does it? I don’t want to be a bi girl who says she’s a lesbian and then takes dick and makes people think that they can convince lesbians to take it. I don’t want to be a bi girl on a cycle who says she’s a lesbian until she’s moved on. I don’t want to add to the “lesbians are just traumatized” stereotype. I just. I wish I could be allowed to say no to men without causing other women harm. I’m sorry.

..what the fuck? she accused you of raping her bc u didnt tell her of u being raped and trafficked ???! what???

if you were never attracted to men and continue to not be attracted to men, then anon you are not somehow bi just bc u were abused & taken advantage of. you sound deeply traumatised to me and im not sure why anyone would tell u that being abused and dissociating thru things is somehow bisexuality. thats horrible of them.

#anonymous

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btsxmalereaders · 3 years

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♡ Meant To Be

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x male reader

Fluff ♡ | Requested

Word Count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Don't forget to vote on whosfan and stream

"Aren't you even a little curious about it?"

You've heard this question thousands of times already; yet, the answer for it has never changed.

"No, not really." You shrug while your friend stares at you in disbelief. "Why do you ask knowing my answer?"

"I just had the hope that you changed your mind," Jeonghan says. "You know, out of everyone in our group of friends, you're the only one who hasn't found their soulmate."

You take one last sip of your tea and sigh, "And you're telling me this to make me feel bad?"

"No! It's just... I thought that would make you feel at least curious of the person whose name is written on your wrist ever since forever."

Your eyes immediately go to your wrist, and your other hand covers the name with your sleeve.

"And I still don't get your habit of covering it, as if you don't want us to know." He laughs. "Are you trying to ignore it and expect to find them like people picture it on dramas?"

Inevitably, you roll your eyes, "I don't know what to tell you. I just think that if we're really meant to meet, then it's gonna happen... someday. I'm in no rush."

Jeonghan nods in understanding, "I guess you're right."

"I am always right." You chuckle. "Now keep telling me about Injae, how is it going with her?"

That's exactly the way you would always dissociated yourself from the topic every time you were asked about it. It wasn't something you really cared about, unlike to your friends. You were happy with the way things are right now.

"... we are taking things slow, and it's all going great. I am really happy about it." He puts on a goofy smile and his ears and cheeks quickly covers in a tinted pink.

"Aw, my little Jeonghan is in love, who would've thought?"

"Shut up, who said anything about love?" He tries to act cool, but he's still smiling and feeling nervous.

"Please," You scoff. "That smile tells me you're head over heels about her. And the way your eyes shine whenever you talk about her? Seems like love to me."

"Ha, ha, ha, you really like to make fun of me, don't you?" He sarcastically blurts. "I am dying to see how you're gonna be once you meet your soulmate. "

"Mmh, we'll see about that..."

Just when you're about to continue reading your textbook, your phone buzzes over the table. You already got distracted by talking to Jeonghan when you both were supposed to be studying for the upcoming exams, but you decide to read the messages you received.

"What's better, keep studying or going out to grab lunch with Sihwan?" You throw the question in the air, to which your friend hums.

"Your friend that works at JYP entertainment?" You nod. "I mean, anything is better than studying for socials, so if I were you, I would go."

"You say that because you want to bump into an idol, don't you?"

"If you meet Twice, could you ask them to autograph something for me?" He says with a pout, making you laugh.

"I am not that lucky." You say and quickly start gathering your belongings to put them on your backpack. "You're meeting Injae later, right? I'll catch you up at the dorm?"

"Sure, I'll see you later."

With that being said, you start walking to the building. Even when your friend has invited you a couple of times already, you couldn't help but feel nervous. That weird feeling in your stomach and the tingling in your skin, like chills. Trying to ignore it, you pass by a nearby restaurant and order Sihwan's favorite food, carrying the bags carefully until you reach the entrance of the building.

After a few messages letting him know you're already there and a few more minutes of waiting, your friend greets you with a smile and a pat on your back, helping you with the bags in your hands and guiding you to the elevator. Unusual, but you don't say anything about it.

"I have more work than usual today, I hope you don't mind eating in my studio."

"You won't get in trouble?" You ask, feeling concerned, but he only denies with his head as he presses a button.

"Don't worry, it's fine."

You silently follow him, trying to not look at anyone in the eyes when you walk through the hall, all the way to the studio. Anyway, no one seems to be aware that you are a regular college student. Lots of people work in there and it's hard to keep track of everyone in there.

"Come in, seriously, it's okay." He chuckles by seeing how you look around and slowly walk inside. "I've been working on the melody and guide for a new group these past hours."

The door is closed and Sihwan sits on the office chair and signals the sofa behind it for you to do the same.

"You brought food from that new restaurant down the street? Sweet." He says and opens the bag, placing the food containers on the wooden table between you two. "I've been starving."

"Working for a new group, you said?" You ask with interest, grabbing what you ordered for yourself and start eating as well.

Sihwan nods, "A girl group, they've been working hard and will debut soon, I hope you can listen to them."

"I am kinda old school, but for you I can do it, I guess..."

You two continue having a conversation about music and how you've been doing at college while sharing food. The last time you met with him was a couple of months ago, so the conversation keeps going for a while until he decides it's time to go back to work.

"Well, in that case I'll leave you. I've got to go back to study too." You say as you stand up and clean the desk.

"Mmh, okay. Thanks for this, how about we go have dinner next week? It's gonna be on me."

"Sounds great to me. Text me the details later?"

"Sure thing." He promises and smiles. "You know how to get back, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. See you!"

As soon as you step out of the studio, you look around to make sure no one is walking in the hall, so you almost run to the elevator, not expecting that someone would bump into you as they exit one of the offices.

You fall to the ground and start apologizing immediately, feeling embarrassed.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you." You hear them saying.

"No, I am sorry, I shouldn't have ran here." You say, and as you try to stand up, they're extending their hand to you to help you up.

You take the help and do a reverence as a thank you and clean the invisible dust on your clothing, and as you're about to walk to the elevator, their voice stops you.

"Y/N L/N?"

You stop on your tracks and finally have the courage to stare at them in the eye and realize that it's a guy, and a very handsome one, you must add. Your legs tremble at the sight, clearly stunned by seeing someone so good-looking. Your immediate thought is that he's an idol or trainee.

"Uh, do we know each ot-?"

Your question is interrupted as he shows you his wrist, and that's when you see it clearly. Your name tattoed on his skin.

"I am Hwang Hyunjin... your soulmate."

You're at the loss of words. The only thing you can do is get lost in his eyes staring back at you, looking for whatever to say, but the situation feels unreal. It's like your body is frozen.

"Hey, Hyunjin, is everything okay out there?" A third voice coming from the office brings you back down to earth.

"I am sorry, I gotta go." You quickly say the second he is distracted, running as fast as your legs allow it and get in the elevator, pressing the bottons and seeing him run in the hall one last time before the doors finally close.

You exit the building and walk to the bus stop, looking back from time to time only to realise that Hyunjin has not followed you. With your heart beating like crazy and your hands shaking you get to text Jeonghan to let him know you were on your way back to the apartment and that you had big news. He was definitely not going to believe it.

"Ow! What was that for?" You groan as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow and threw it to you.

"You just ran away?!"

"I panicked, okay? You can't put the blame on me for that!"

"With all due respect, you're an idiot." He sighs. "You met your soulmate and just ran, oh god... What are you going to do?"

"Uhh... nothing?"

Jeonghan grabs the pillow again just to throw it at you, but your hands stop him.

"Okay, okay, I'll do something about it. I'll go see him again!"

"That's a big lie, you say that as if I don't know you." He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I am a coward. I don't know what should I do, help me." You say with a pout.

"Your friend? He may know him, don't you think?" He states as if it's so obvious.

"Ooh, you're right! I am going to have dinner with him next week, I can ask him..."

"See? It's like the universe is conspiring for you to meet again... Properly meet, I mean."

You stop listening to him as he starts complaining and making fun of the way you reacted earlier. Your mind is now finding a good way to reach out to him.

"...And I could finally finish that song." Sihwan says with a grin and takes a sip of his beverage. "I was practically isolated and had no proper human contact for a while, so thanks to our talk and delicious food I could finish in no time after that."

You giggle, "Really? Then I am happy I could be helpful, don't forget to add me on the credits."

He laughs at the joke and continues talking, "You didn't get caught on your way out, right?"

"Well... about that."

"Wait, are you serious? Did you get in trouble?" He asks, concerned.

"No, no! It's just that... Do- do you know Hwang Hyunjin?"

It's now or never.

Sihwan seems to think about it for a second, feeling confused. "Yeah, I mean, our team is not working with them, but I've talked to him and his group a couple of times. Why? You ran into him?"

"Yeah, but also..." You lift the sleeve of your shirt, letting him see the name written on your skin.

"No way! Really?" He says with a big smile. "Hell, congratulations! How- wait, why don't you look happy about it?"

"Because I panicked and ran away before I could say something to him." You say and hide your face behind your hands out of frustration. "I need your help, hyung."

"Okay," He chuckles. "Of course, what can I do to help?"

You sigh and take out a folded paper from the pocket of your ripped jeans, looking at it for a second before handling it to your friend. "Could you give this to him?"

Sihwan takes it and nods. "Of course, I'll give it to him as soon as I can."

Now all you have to do is wait.

You plop down in the sofa and stare at the screen of your phone for the millionth time today, feeling hopeless at this point. It has been one week since you asked Sihwan to give that letter to Hyunjin, and ever since, you couldn't help but wait for a message from him, or even a call, despite you don't knowing what would you even say.

"Hmm, you haven't heard anything from him?" Jeonghan asks and sits next to you. You deny with your head and sigh. "Maybe he's busy. I heard his group is going to do a comeback soon."

"A what, now?" You ask, and your friends looks as you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up for him on internet. I mean, he was in JYPE for a reason."

"Uhh..."

"Oh my god, I swear you are..." He doesn't finish his premise. Instead, he takes the phone from your hands and looks up for his name on the web. "Stray Kids, you didn't look up for him? I can't believe this, are you even on social media?"

"Shut up, let me see this."

You quickly read their information, going directly to the names and pictures of the members, quickly finding Hyunjin and realizing your friend is right. How come you didn't think of it?

"Oh yeah, here says they're releasing an album in a few days..."

"Told you." He murmurs. "Are you still going to wait for him to text you?"

"Do I have another option? I don't think I can go around the building just looking for him, even if I am with Sihwan."

"Hmm, you're right. I hope you can talk soon, though. Imagine this: you and Hyunjin together, we become friends and he gives me a tour in JYPE to meet Twice."

You roll your eyes and stand up, "You're being delusional. I'll go to sleep now, goodnight!"

"That's rude!" He groans and sees you walk away. "I hope you panick and run away again next time you see him!"

The next morning when you wake up, the first thing you do is check your phone, and your heart almost stops when you see a new message from an unknown number.

You go clean your face and take a deep breath to gather the courage you needed to finally read the long-awaited message.

With trembling hands you unlock your phone and click on the notification.

It was no surprise to see how easy was to talk with him. You two started talking on regular basis, when he was free from his schedule and when you weren't studying, which happened really late at nights.

Soon, those thousands of messages became frequent phone calls and videocalls that lasted hours, and to say that you both trusted each other with your lives was an understatement. You were still getting used to the idea that your soulmate was an idol; and it was weird to see him constantly on the internet, as of course you started following every other fan account you found on social media. Hyunjin, on the other hand, was trying to be very supportive of your studies and kept sending you messages of encouragement as well as listening to your ramblings about your career and complaints about your professors.

"So you've caught feelings for him, right? It was about time, Y/N" Jeonghan says with a shrug. "I know some soulmates only work as friends and all that, but it was pretty obvious to me that you'd end up in a romantic relationship."

"Really?"

He nods and smiles. "Of course! Are you going to ask him out?"

"I was planning to, but what if he doesn't feel the same? What if he just sees me as the friend type?"

Jeonghan hums. "Well, I think it's gonna be okay. You're soulmates for a reason, don't you think?"

You hesitate to grab your phone and open the message bar, typing a question and hoping things will go well after pressing the send button.

"Hyun, is it okay if I ask you out?

Like, on a date?"

A few minutes later you receive an answer, needless to say, you didn't expect him to reply now, so you feel as if your heart is about to make a hole on your chest right now.

Hyun ♡

God, I was really hoping I wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Of course it's okay

I would love to go out on a date with you, Y/N ♡

You now feel at ease, the butterflies flying in your stomach and your body feeling so light as if you were floating. Is that how being in love feels like?

"He said he'd love to go on a date with me." You announce with a smile.

"See? There you go, my plan of meeting Twice soon is going awesome." He says and you give him a deathly glare. "I am kidding! But I have to say, who's smiling and blushing like a dumb right now?"

"Jeonghan!" You groan and grab a pillow to throw it at him, but he's quicker to stand up and walk away, still laughing.

Hyun ♡

Now you're not being shy, eh?

You won't run away from me when we meet?

You're the worst, you text back.

Hyun ♡

I may be

But I am your soulmate, so pretty much you can't get rid of me

He was right, but you were not intending to do that.

Because, now more than ever, you were sure things were meant to be this way. Right next to him forever.

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x m!reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids male reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #requested #hyunjin x male reader #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x male reader #soulmate au

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manikas-whims · 3 years

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Recently, I'm seeing a rise in the most awful misinterpretations of some characters in Six of Crows, so I'm gonna address how wrong they are.

Before I start: if you haven't said any of what I'm going to mention here, then it means I'm not pointing fingers at you. Don't take offense for something you didn't do.

Now I'm gonna try to keep it as short as possible...

Part 1

"I don't think Inej loves Kaz." "Inej doesn't love Kaz as much as he does her." "Inej is ignorant." bla bla bla...

A cousin of mine (15 yo) read the books and said the same things as above.

I asked her what does love mean to her and she responded it meant "two people showing their emotions by acts like kisses, cuddles, etc." and "by being together with that person by the end of the story".

Obviously, that's not all to love. Younger audiences tend to not take note of the faint nuances the same way grownups do. Its just like watching disney movies and only later realising the ambiguous meanings in certain dialogues. But we can't simply say that age plays a major factor here.

While SoC is a YA novel and aimed for age groups 13-17 mostly, many adults enjoy the books.

I myself read the books this year (23 yo) and my perception of love is different from my cousin's. Love isn't simply an emotion or feeling or gestures. LOVE IS WORK. It requires both the parties involved to put in equal effort.

And so, when Inej says "I will have you without armor." , she isn't being ignorant at all. She does mean it in the literal sense. But also more than that. Inej is an honest person and says whats on her mind freely. She expects the same honesty in return. She says this dialogue because while Kaz seems to know a good amount about her— her full real name, how she was taken to Ketterdam and sold to Tante Heleen, etc. Inej knows nothing about him, not even his real name. The first thing she learns about him is that he had a brother and a vague "i had a lot of things."

And even with things Kaz doesn't know about her, she's ready to share. She tells him that it was easy for her to entirely dissociate when seeing her clients but she couldn't do it with one guy, the guy who'd seen her perform on the high wire as a kid. She shares this deep, awful experience with him and says its not easy for her either. In doing so, being honest about her past, she encourages him to take a step as well. To try and be a little honest about himself, share a small part of himself. She wants him to put some effort into their relationship because a simple "i want you" isn't enough. They both need to work on a lot of things to reach that "i want you". SHE ISN'T IGNORANT.

Later on, Inej realises, she can't ask so much honesty of Kaz because that one bathroom scene is an eye opener for both of them. She realises that she may have handled that kiss on the neck but what if she couldn't have? What if she had dissociated on instinct, as her defense mechanism? What if? Kaz adds to all that when he tells her to take the money and leave, forget him. But does she do that? NO. She thinks whether it would be better for her to find a kind man, bear his children and then sharpen her knives at night. And she realizes she doesn't want that because she can only be her true self (a kind woman who wields knives) with Kaz. She can only be her genuine self with Kaz. She thinks "he'd tried, they'd tried. They could try again." She wants to try again with Kaz. SHE WANTS HIM JUST AS MUCH.

Now for a moment, lets consider the other female character in SoC— Nina Zenik. We all call her an "Unapologetic Queen" for being herself, being proud of her body proportions and such. But if Nina was a woman of color, would she get the same hype? Don't say "Yes" because we know that won't be the case. Nina wouldn’t get the same hype for her plus sized representation if she was a poc.

And this, I'm speaking as a Desi. I know what I face in real life from people of other cultures. I've experienced a lot of stereotypes about myself as a South Asian woc. And while not everyone treats me the same, I do encounter alot of obvious stereotypical assumptions about myself.

Similarly, so many people when they read the "I will have you without armor" dialogue, completely stop looking further into Inej. Age factor is very miniscule. Most of this, whether you like it or not, stems from the internalized stereotype that "brown girls are mean and insensitive". Thats how we've typically seen them portrayed in majority of media and that's where many readers' thoughts immediately head to when they read the "without armor" dialogue. Those of you who say the quoted things mentioned at the top, don't bother to look as deeply into Inej's perspective as you do for Kaz or Nina or the others. You simply settle for calling her ignorant.

Did you ever give her more thought instead of reducing her to the stereotypical brown girl?

Did you ever consider that this girl has her own demons? That this girl was captured forcefully and sold into prostitution at 14!? That this girl sometimes even gets scared of touches from her own friends? That this girl finds it harder to handle contact that she doesn't see coming? That she suffered abuse and was rewarded with kindness by the same hands that touched her at the Menagerie!? That at some point she just fearfully anticipated for whatever was to come, be it a gentle caress or a harsh slap across her cheek? That this girl was raped again and again and again every single day when she was only 14? That she was violated and touched in places too private without her consent? That she was continuously treated so by men twice, thrice, even four times her age!?

Did you ever consider that this girl who struggles with so much didn't let her suffering define her!? That she rises above these atrocities and finds a purpose!? That she chooses to pursue her own goals and save any other kids from whatever horrid things she went through!?

Did you ever consider that despite everything this girl suffered at the hands of innumerable people, she wants to try again with Kaz?

For a girl like her to let Kaz kiss her neck completely unguarded (she doesn't have her knives with her in that scene)..to still be able to give her heart to Kaz, is a very beautiful thing. It means she trusts him so much more than she'll ever trust any other person..

Everyone expresses themselves in different ways. Thats what makes each human so unique. Just because Inej isn't saying poetic things in her pov chapters, doesn't mean she loves Kaz any less.

Inej Ghafa loves Kaz Brekker. And she always will. But her love doesn't mean she must give up on her own purpose. Kaz doesn't ask her to. And she doesn't ask Kaz to give up his position as the new King of the Barrel. They're equals who support each other in their goals. They're two people in love who will take their baby steps towards healing together.

Inej and Kaz love each other.

Inej and Kaz are together.

Inej isn't ignorant, just misread.

Rant over for now. Next I'll be talking about Matthias Helvar..:)

#inej ghafa #six of crows #pro inej ghafa #kanej #kaz brekker #inej isn't a bad person #y'all are poor readers if you think so #READ THE BOOKS AGAIN

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.

#creepypasta fanfic #proxies x reader #proxies #masky x reader #masky x hoodie #hoodie x reader #ticci tobyx reader #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas x reader #masky #hoodie #ticci toby #ticcitoby #timothy wright #brian thomas #reader insert #reader #readerinsert

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nightopianfoxgirl · 2 years

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This is gonna be an end-of-year wrap up talk with future changes. I feel more comfortable talking about it here first before it goes on my DA page. Do not mind me please, there’s a lot to unpack.

I really thought this year was going to be the year of change after you-know-what came to wreck 2020. I did make good improvements in my art and animations and am getting closer to my Associates in Digital Media. Near the end of the year was a total mess. But to be honest, I have been suffering through a lot behind the scenes with drama. I never really realized how toxic the “friend group” I was in because I was young when I first joined. I should have seen it from the constant in-fighting on trivial issues and blame-games. I tried to play kind and fair, but it always ended up with me having to take the blame and please everyone else. I was constantly being drained and the moment I said I wanted to leave, they would pull a 180 to draw me back. They became the friends I knew when I first joined, but it never lasted. There was always something that ticked them off. Some would even go as far as to cyberbully people on multiple platforms and acted as if they were not in the wrong until other users called them out. Then they would cry to me for being called out, demanding comfort.

Recently, I opened up about it to friends, family, and a counsel group after years which was when I started to realize that I needed to leave. I slowly dissociated from the group and found more freedom, but in October I put my foot down and it ended terribly. One of them verbally lashed out and I no longer felt safe on DeviantArt because they are active in “calling out” other users at the drop of the hat. Then they did the same thing all over again: act nice like nothing ever happened. I came to Tumblr because I knew none of them were here and people I know and trust are. I rarely post on DA now and lock comments because the group still stalks my page. They are trying to reach out again, but I am ignoring it. I can’t block them or they will send others after me and if I delete my accounts I give up everything I created and can never use it again without risking a new account being discovered. Locking comments is all I have because there is no report for this type of abuse.

I’m slowly recovering, but things will never be the same for a long time. Comments being locked on DA will be a new constant until safety is deemed which breaks my heart since I love talking to you guys. I love interactions and hearing what you have to say. I’m sorry if you have noticed the sudden shift, but I still must be careful with what I say. I don’t want a huge fight breaking out, I just want to be left alone and out of all these dramas that I never was in in the first place.

On lighter notes, I will be continuing my commissions and Blazing Fire but I intend to do more complex details on and off the job. I wish to improve and become even better to add to a future portfolio. Another new thing coming is that I will be launching a Ko-Fi page. Not confident for a Patreon, but it is a start. So when that comes around, you can find me there too. And as I have hinted, I plan to make a small business making handmade crafts. I hope to open it within 2022 once I get my bearings and store selection set up. Other than that, that is all and I hope you all have a good rest and a better year as we go into 2022.

Sweet Dreams

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gillion-tidestrider · 3 years

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all my troubles on a burning pile (all lit up and i start to smile)

(also on ao3!)

At the sight of the Navy ships, Jay doesn’t know if she’s real. She doesn’t know if it’s all just a dream. As her nightmares grow more prevalent, as does her dissociation from the world. If she’s honest, the reality of the tournament and the Baron and La Alma… She doesn’t know how much she can truly believe.

...And the Navy’s presence pushes her into some sort of haze she can’t explain. It feels as if her body is piloting itself, her actual thoughts and feelings distant and disconnected. The fear of the Navy -her family- that usually bubbles up inside of her when she’s in the nightmare— it’s gone. When the fire begins to spread, she can’t bring herself to care.

When she sees a triton launch off of a well, something yells at Jay. Begging her, telling her that she knows him. That he’s her friend. (That she’s going to lose him.)

There’s a hand on her arm— she can’t distinguish if it’s her father’s or not.

“Jay, we gotta—” It’s someone else. Someone else she’s meant to know. A friend. Her heart twists. Maybe there isn’t just a gaping hole in her chest. He stares at her, squinting at her face, making an attempt to discern how she’s feeling. His voice lowers, “Look, I know this is really bad and someone here could be in your family, but we won’t let ‘em get you, okay? Nothing’s gonna happen to you, promise.” Any response she could’ve given is silenced as she feels him tug at her arm, forcing her to run. (She doesn’t like being forced to do things. She doesn’t like how she’s forced to be here.)

There’s a part of Jay that doesn’t want to run. The part of her who finds thrill in the flames. The part of her who takes comfort in the screaming.

Jay never questioned her father when he decided to drag her to the training grounds in the deathly depths of the night. He didn’t like questions. He said she should figure it out for herself; life would never give her the answers she so ‘deeply desires’. She never asks questions anymore. Not to anyone.

The only light she could fixate on was the lantern held by her father. It wasn’t orange, like an ordinary flame. It was a dark, fierce red. She wondered if there was a reason for the colour. (It was his deep ridden anger, her brain supplied. She firmly ignored it.)

He told her to sit down, so she did so without hesitation. He sat down with her. Her eyes widened slightly, before she forced the stoic mask back on her face again. He smirked at her, carefully placing the lantern between the two of them. The red of the flame illuminated his face in a fitting way, Jay thought.

“Listen.” His voice was low. Dangerously low. She knew she was going to be given an order by his tone, “I want you to join a pirate crew, alright, Jay?” She felt a bitter taste in her mouth, immediately, “I want you,” he said, slowly, the venomous smile growing to a grin, “to pretend. To pretend like you hate us. You have to listen and act to their every beck and call. Make them trust you.” His tone grew sharp, his eyes holding nothing but fury.

“Why?”

She almost forgot the sound of her own voice. The question ripped out of her throat, she felt like a marionette; a cruel puppeteer forcing the noise out of her. She fought back her urge to wince at his upcoming reaction.

He sneered at her, “Just do as I say. You don’t need to know why.” His scowl didn’t leave his face, his glare despondent as he licked his finger and put out the flame, leaving Jay in the dark.

(She felt like that, too.)

Suddenly, she’s at the helm of the ship, behind the kind friend. The friend she knows she’ll have to leave. Her stomach twists as her friend shouts for a boy. His boy. She itches to take control of the wheel, but she can’t bring herself to do it. (Weak.) She shouts for the boy’s name too, despite how far away her voice appears to be.

They don’t find him.

She sees her friend leave his ship, still begging for the boy to come out from wherever he was hiding. Her gaze drags back to the raging fire, the crackling and burning and roaring all fading together to a high-pitched persistent ringing.

Maybe it is all a dream, after all.

A metal rod flies past her head, narrowly missing her forehead. What it does hit, though, is the clip preventing her hair from falling over her eyes. The rod penetrates the deck, shattering the emblem. She turns and stares at the carnage, an abrupt tempest of emotions building in her bones. Fury and guilt and regret seep into her body. Carefully, she kneels and gently takes the broken pieces in her hands.

The fragmented eagle in her palms morphs into a mended one, and she’s suddenly younger and back in her home. She looks up and sees her mother, her tired but kind eyes and dishevelled hair staring back at her.

Her mother kneels down, taking the clip and sliding it into Jay’s hair, “Your hair is getting long now, isn’t it?” A warm, loving hand rests on Jay’s face, and she smiles kindly.

As quickly as it came, the memory fades and her heartfelt home grows into a sea of fire surrounding her.

The warm smile of her mother widens into a monstrous grin of somebody else , the warmth of her mother’s hand distorting into a frigid, skeletal one. Jay jolts back, and the grin stretches across the man’s face.

“Long time, no see, Jay.”

The sound of his voice strikes a deep terror into her chest. She lurches away, staggering into the damp wood behind her. (Nowhere to run.)

Without breaking his gaze, he snatches the rod from where it was sunk into the deck.

“You should’ve listened to Dad.” He says, lifting it up and over his head.

She’s frozen.

(Is this it?)

She lifts her arms up, bracing for the impact. It never comes. A loud bang reverberates across the ship.

Jay opens her eyes (that she didn’t even realise were closed), and sees his hand empty, instead it’s open and twitching with pain. On the floor his rod sits. On the floor his blood pools. She gasps, the first real sound she hears herself make, staring back up at him. The blade of a sword protrudes from his stomach. Blood is cascading down his wound, staining his clothes, dribbling down his mouth. He cries out, knees buckling, one hand on his wound, the other reaching out to Jay.

It wraps around her throat.

A blue hand violently grabs his collar and pulls him away from Jay. The triton— Gillion, her brain tells her, tosses the man to the ground. He furiously flashes his teeth at him, unsheathing his sword yet again. His eyes begin to glow a milky white, his hair levitating with a divine shine. He raises his sword above his head as sparks and swirls of cerulean magic surround it. Ice grows from the magic, sharpening the peak of his sword. Like a wave, the sword throttles down towards the soldier. Upon impact, the soldier wails in pain, his body flattening on the floor.

He’s dead.

The magic fades from Gillion’s body as he stares down the soldier with one final look of disdain. Sheathing his sword, he nimbly makes his way to Jay.

“Jay, are you alright? Are you badly hurt?” He asks, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders. Before she has a chance to respond, he observes the new bruises on her throat, a small stream of blood trickling down from where his nails drove into. He narrows his eyes, before placing a hand on where he hurt her. She takes a sharp breath at the contact, and he apologises, but doesn’t take his hand away. Instead of pain, as she expects, she feels a deep-seated comfort from what she can only assume is a healing spell.

He stands and reaches his hand out for her. Jay takes it, stumbling on her feet when she stretches her legs up. Chip’s at the helm now, angrily turning the ship around. Lizzie’s ship does the same.

She stares at the body. He was family. (He wanted to kill her.)

(Her family wants to kill her.)

She realises she still has the broken emblem in her hands.

She throws the pieces into the sea, with no level of emotion.

“THEY’RE ‘GETTIN AWAY!” The scream of a Navy soldier fills her with more rage than she can discern. The helmsman’s grin swells her fury tenfold. Jay’s hands move on their own as they nock an arrow into her bow. She draws it, and aims for the head.

The arrow punctures his forehead, and he falls back.

He’s dead.

How she feels about that will be discussed on another date.

Glancing back over to her crew, Jay sees Chip and Gill fighting. Again. She quickly checks if any Navy ships had followed them into what seems like the open sea. She doesn’t see anything.

...She also doesn’t know if she’s mentally prepared to deal with another duel, so she stands between them, facing Chip.

“I don’t know what the two of you are arguing about, but can it wait?” She says, her voice attributed with raspiness and pain. The wounds on her throat must not have fully healed. She doesn’t blame Gillion, of course, he must have used up a lot of magic actually fighting.

It doesn’t occur to her that she’d been crying, though. She only realises once Chip swipes a tear from her face, all of his previous anger put to the side.

Everything hit her all at once. Every image of the fire, of the murder, of his hand on her face, of his hand on her throat, of—

Chip wraps his arms around her, and Gillion does, too. (She doesn’t deserve this.)

“Did that guy hurt you?” Chip murmurs. She knows who he’s referring to. She knows, now, what they were arguing about. Chip was never quiet about his hatred of killing.

She nods her head, a harsh gasp ripping from her throat, “He- He- wanted to kill me, Chip! Don’t- I couldn’t defend myself, I was too weak- Don’t blame Gill, please ,” She begs, before he tells her to shut up, though not unkindly.

“I… If he hurt you, then- I- I understand, okay? I’m not angry at Gill, or you. You’re not weak, Jay. I don’t- I know that it’s pretty different, but if Arlin tried to kill me, I’d freeze too.” He pulls away to force her to look at him, “What I said earlier, it wasn’t a lie. We’re gonna keep you safe from your family.” Chip’s eyes carry the same determination that they did on the first day she met him.

Gillion, too, pulls away and stands in front of her, “Indeed, we will never let you get hurt. Not by your family, not by anybody. I sincerely apologise that you were not given the family you deserve, Jay.” He says, the dried blood of her relative still splattered on his cheek.

She smiles, as hard as it is, “It’s okay. I have you guys, don’t I?”

“And we have you.” Gillion grins.

Chip flashes his teeth, and hangs his arms around both of their necks. Chip and Gill start bantering (AKA, Chip tells a joke and Gillion just does not understand), as Jay fondly stares at the two of them.

As much as she’d like this moment to stay forever, she knows nothing ever does. (And it never will.)

“...There’s something else I need to tell you,” Chip lets her go, sobering up.

“Yeah? Take your time.” He says, noticing the tenseness in Jay’s tone.

“I… My dad- before I joined you, Chip, he told me to join a pirate crew. To, well. Get information for the Navy. I think that’s why, anyway.” She lets the confession sit in the air as Chip and Gillion soak it up.

“You… Think? He didn’t tell you why?” Chip asks, narrowing his brows. Gillion says nothing, his expression unreadable.

“...No?” Her eyes widen as she realises, fully realises, and she laughs. Not out of amusement, or glee, or the reasons you’re meant to laugh, “It- It was to get rid of me, wasn’t it.” She says, bitterly.

Chip’s eyes soften, “That. Okay, that sucks a whole lot and I’m sorry, Jay. But, you’re with us now, aren’t you? We ain’t ever gonna do something like that to you. Ever .” He enunciates it to exemplify how much he means it.

“I am sorry as well. I am relieved you did not go down that path.” Gillion says, “You did not deserve that treatment, but I am happy you were sent away. Otherwise, you would never be with us.”

She mumbles a quiet “thanks”. They give her reassuring expressions, before going away to complete their own individual tasks.

Jay decides to sleep, hoping her brain would show mercy on her and allow her a quiet night of rest. Blearily, as she drifts, she thinks about the man she killed.

Nobody forced her to draw her bow. Nobody forced her to shoot him. She did it on her own accord.

She still doesn’t know if what happened truly happened. She still doesn’t know if she’s real.

She closes her eyes.

(She can’t bring herself to care.)

#jay ferin #gillion tidestrider #chip jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #not gonna post all of them at once bc i dont wanna fill the entire tag with fics lmao

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the-acid-pear · 3 years

Text

I did my homework and i did my chores, time to tackle on the third book of this series, Son of Ogre

Chapter 1

Okay but the fuck is Baki planning to do if he stops fighting? That's literally all he has, he's not smart

WOOH THATS A BIT REALISTIC

PREHISTORIC ELEPHANT?!

King just went to have a snack. Also FUCK does that meat look tasty FUCKKK

This baby so cute 🥺

I'm so glad Yuji is doing stupid hilarious shit again it had been a while

Congrats on Baki for that mantis

Chapter 2

Who tf is this kid?

Poor kid lmao, i assume he will meet Baki

Look at my boyyy

HSTSRFAYDF DON'T CALL HIM A MANLET

Imagine Baki actually kills this kid HSJDYSSHCBT

Third comment with a ton of likes is "we do not condone child violence. We do, however, find it hilarious"

Chapter 3

AH SHUT UPPP KIDDO

But i like Baki memeing a round a lil

Chapter 4

🥺🥺 that's so sweet...

HELLOOOO STRYDUM MY GOD YOUR TITS GOT FATTER SIR 😳😳

Yujiro is such a fucking threat to society lmao

I love seeing Baki with his eyes open, he's looking more like his old self

Oh, shadow boxing incoming, alright

Chapter 5

Yuri? 🥺 /j

THE RETURN OF IRON MICHAEL?!

Chapter 6

I love how there's our silly little mains after every cover LUV em <33

Baki just dissociating his ass out and using it on his favor, the king

Why is Baki eating sour prunes aren't those meant to be sweet?

We all salivating

Chapter 7

Love to see there are even more swears there now

I can put my face next to my foot too tho

FAGDRJSEHARD YUJIRO CAN BEAT THE CANCER HOW ICONIC 😍

Also i would LOVE to see Yuji fight an Orca

WHAT?!

I love how everyone in the comments is calling out Rumina for not seeing issue going down to a dark hidden basement with a shirtless man older than him

Chapter 8

"piggy back me" USHSYFLFUDSY

This fight is going to be good

Chapter 9

Imagine Baki dies right here right know against an imaginary mantis lmao

Okay Baki getting damaged makes sense but the WALL?

Baki's dead (GOD IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE SAID THAT)

Ffs it's true Baki COULD create himself a stand 😰

Chapter 10

OH FUCK IT'S TRUE

Chapter 11

This fight is so boring i had to take a 6 hour break

Baki just can't win against nature eh

This reminds me of Garland pulling a suplex on that Anaconda

Chapter 12

I can't wait for the main cast to ACTUALLY appear, instead of just, you know, them in the covers

This fight is slow but cool but slow

To fight a mantis you must think like a mantis 😎

Though it's true in this manga you will most likely win if you steal your opponent techniques so

Chapter 13

I MISS IGARI FUCKKK

This is so dumb i luv it

That mantis be swearing lmao

Love it when Baki goes full Yujiro

Chapter 14

TOBA...

Holy fuck do mantis fly?

Secret Chapter?

Is this how Yujiro got born?

Idk girl i would have killed him if i was you

WHAT.

I KNOW THOSE FROGS THEY ARE FROM PUERTO RICO I THINK

I might just be sleepy but this is so confusing

AKSHSKGSKSGSJSG JUST KILL THE BABY IT AINT THAT HARD

Chapter 15

GAIA...

Why is he like this?

Is "he" with us right now?

...gotta admit that IS true...

I love Strydum sksgwhwg

Yujiro really went XD

I don't think my man Arun in the comments is aware how gay what he said is, though maybe I'm wrong

Chapter 16

GOD THESE FUCKING COVERS MAKING ME SO NOSTALGIC, LOOK AT SPEC!

ANIME KENNEDY?!

I can't believe Bush is dead

AN ASIAN BOY HAS JUST KIDNAPPED THE PRESIDENT...

8 of January? My god he's a Capricorn

I'm sorry, what?

LAHQIGWKQFWKSFWIWG 😭😭

I love Baki so much, THIS IS THE KID THAT I MISSED SO MUCH

This explains why Baki was in prison clothes in the anime teaser

Chapter 17

BIG NUMBER

That one mf like 😐

Glad Baki is 18 now at least 😌

Love to see Oliva back

Chapter 18

This page not even bothering to charge the pages anymore

I'm sure there were better ways to go to jail, well, actually, no, but still

Toba used to just chew that off

Baki did that mantis hit you in the head too hard?

I. I watched way too many prison movies and shows. I don't like seeing someone as young and pretty as Baki in such a place. I rlly don't.

Chapter 19

Yanagi baby i miss you...

IRON MICHAEL?!

Mfkhsjsys 😳🥴

Eh got my hopes too high

CHE BAKI PIBE... LA PUTA MADRE NI ACA ME ESCAPO DE MIS COMPATRIOTAS

I hope he swears too i want to see a boludo o pelotudo PLEASE

I mean para pelotudos lo veo a Yujiro todo el tiempo pero igual JSGWKEGWG me pone bien argento ver al Che carajo

Chapter 20

HE SAID BOLUDO SUAHWKWGAKSGSKSGSKGD

I can't take this omfg new fav I'm sorry Doppo but he just said boludo 😭

Pendejo is more used as pibe here but i will let it pass bc idk the lingo in Cuba and he spent some time there so

Why don't i speak like this too ffs? All i do is say eh and call it a day

He's cocky enough to call anybody any age pibe so I'll let that pass too

Por favor no lo hagas che sksgwj

Chapter 21

Che, pibe, it's a good day to die...

Chapter 22

GSHAGSTSG he should have said "no boludo"

I'm falling in love with this boludo myself

That's talented and brutal

OH RIGHT YOU LOSE YOUR BALANCE WHEN YOU DONT HAVE THAT

Chapter 23

Hm that's, cringe

YESSS HE SAID PELOTUDO

OAHWLGWKQFSKSGSJS SIII ROMPELO TODO CHE, ROMPELO TODO POR DECIRTE YANKEE KSGSSJGS

Honestly i too get pissed off when called American or European, though i won't throw shit to Baki, he's some random 18 yo japanese boy, no way he would recognize latinoamerican lingo lmao

King shit Baki boy

Chapter 24

Oh that's why he's called Jun Guevara, that's fair

I like how they are mixing a bit of truth and a bit of lie it's fun at least

Chapter 25

I like how they are drawing nipples now, occasionally

I can't wait for Viêt to complain about propaganda in the comments

OH SHIT

😳 :Y

He's sooo nice 😍

Chapter 26

Only three? You mean the third is... 👁️👁️

HAHA YEAH YUJI-CHAN <3

I can't believe he works for the USA I'm crying and shaking rn

What a progressive manga, the three strongest and most dangerous men and none of them are white 😍

GET HIS ASS BAKI

Chapter 27

Why is this guy sweating sm?

LDYDYSUGFUDT BAKI PLS

I like how the only time Baki was willing to kill a person was when he thought Sikorsky had hurt his girl

Chapter 28

I feel like Ian will die

Man i love how Baki is drawn in this book

Ffs i called it, i have watched way too many prison things to know how shit goes down

I have seen these three before in fanart but I'm curious to see what they can do

Chapter 29

Their faces remind me of Doyle

OH I CANT WAIT TO SEE EM IN THE ANIME

ASSHOLE DON'T CALL ME STUPID 😢💔

I'm gonna struggle to tell em apart but i think I'll manage

Okay I'm not the only one who thinks they look like Doyle, fair

Chapter 30

The mouth vs Yujiro when?

Someone mentioned the have the same vibe as the dudes that worked with Gaia and like 👁️👁️

Chapter 31

Lmao someone in the comments recommended the same thing

These three must be great at sex (sorry)

KSHALDHDKD NEW FAV COMMENT: "go to Japan and look for the word "defeat". That way you won't feel cocky anymore"

Chapter 32

Hehe hello Junnn~

KSHAKDHKWGS

La luna

Chapter 33

LOS TRES...

Okay that's funny, hocico instead of mouth (hocico is used for animal mouths)

I'm so glad i know Spanish

The two things that drive me insane and make me ramble are Doppo's beauty and this stupid argentinian

OSHSKWGSKSG

Chapter 34

Imagine he's doing that illusion thing Dorian did

With his own blood, that's so cool...

Hoho...!

I did that once when i had a terrible nose bleed, didn't go well

Chapter 35

This book is fucking boring NGL

"now that you got no more urine left in you"

AH.

GAHDYR LMAO

Chapter 36

HO THAT TITLE, PLEEEASE I NEED SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO HAPPEN

HHH he kinda cute...

Oww :(

JDJSJFRGAJ

God piantao is an old word i had never heard it before

AND he took a piss.

LOCO NO SEAS HOMOFÓBICO NINGUNA MINA ACA ES MEJOR QUE ESTE PIBITO TE LO ASEGURO SKSGSKGSJAAGS

Se me cayó un ídolo y yo que le quería dar 😔

ÑSHWQLSGOSGDKW

Let's see if he lied to Baki about just liking eh /j

Chapter 37

I luv Oliva lol

AJSGSKSLAGHS BAKI SNAPPED

I too wonder where the fuck Kozue is

Chapter 38

LSHSLDGSLSGSIEG

He is jealous of what you two have, it's normal, el Che just rejected his love after all ;/

Oliva is a king

OH A HANKERCHIEF I THOUGHT THAT WAS UNDERWEAR SHSGS-

Oh shit Oliva is like 45?! He looked so young

Te fuiste a la mierda, Che, el chabón estaba siendo re bueno con vos

Baki is just dead

Chapter 39

I love how realistic Che's fear is, he's rather smart, though not this time

POOR GUY AJSGSWJW

I didn't realize Che said "what more, it may be a woman!" but to be fair they ARE in jail so

Chapter 40

I'm feeling kinda bad for him ngl

I feel happy for him tho 🥺

Bruh they added one page after the ending of some naked anime girl tf 😐

Chapter 41

These prisoners having fun is kinda sweet

YO INSANE

Bitches be complaining about Maria's looks are just jealous 🥰

Chapter 42

Damn she lorge

He loves fighting naked eh

Only valid person is the one saying Oliva deserves better treatment which tbh true

Chapter 43

Fun fact i wear my jacket like El Che too, unless it's too cold

El che with the hair lose is so cute bro,,,

Something something fingering joke

Sikorski could fold a coin too

I bet the bandana will break

Chapter 44

I would have just fallen on top of him, how is he gonna counter that, eh?

Oh that super fun to know!

Oh the good ol dirty technique, i have seen this one before!

Chapter 45

NOOO MARIA DON'T DO THIS TO HIM

This fight is super cool tho i love these two characters

Chapter 46

They just keep changing the rules i think Itagaki is just flexing at this point

LAAOSFKAGSKAGSKAF???

Baki wants his protagonism back

I'm getting pissed off they keep putting semi naked underaged girls at the end of every chapter 😐

Chapter 47

Bruh just realized, the mouth got so hyped as this new cool villain and they died in their first appearance 😭

His damn bandana...

#luly talks #i hit character limit already waaa :(#but I'm too into this to stop reading lol #btg #this saga is a bit boring but el che is funny :)#baki liveblog

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kieraelieson · 4 years

Text

Centaur AU 4

AO3 Link

“Alright,” Thomas said, satisfied that Roman was properly off to his competition. “Logan and Virgil are sleeping, and Patton, do you know if you have anything for today?”

“I don’t think so, but I don’t really know,” Patton said.

“In that case, I’m going to try taking a quick nap and then maybe Logan and Virgil will wake up. If anything comes up, you wake me up, ok?”

Patton nodded.

Thomas ended up flopping onto a pile of hay and dozing off. It wasn’t like him to take naps, but he’d been up quite late and then woke up much earlier than usual.

He woke to hear quiet murmuring.

“Ugh. They’re just creepy. And way too fast.” It sounded like Virgil saying.

“They’re sweet!” Patton said, his tone soft and cooing.

“It’s unsanitary to hold them in your hands,” Logan said.

“But he’s so soft! And he’s sweet too, he likes me better than any of the others.” Patton protested.

Thomas yawned and sat up. Patton abruptly turned around, hiding whatever he was holding.

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

Patton turned to look at him with large, pleading eyes, and a spark behind them that said he’d fight if he needed to. “He’s mine. You can’t kill him.”

Thomas knew then that it must be some kind of small animal, but what? “I wouldn’t kill him, Patton, I’d just like to know what he is.”

Patton frowned. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Patton reluctantly turned, showing a rat held in his cupped hands.

Thomas tried to hide his recoil, deciding immediately that he agreed with Virgil. “How um, how many of them do you have? And where are they staying?”

Patton’s face fell. He held the rat close to his chest. “You’re going to kill them!”

Thomas felt stuck. If there were many rats in the stable, he couldn’t just let them stay and breed and overrun everything. But he didn’t want to go and kill animals Patton clearly viewed as more pets than pests.

Thomas frowned in thought, but based on the shuffling of hooves he guessed that the longer he waited the more he’d be misunderstood. So he came to a quick decision.

“There are four of you all together,” he said, slowly, still trying to hash out details in his mind. “And one of me.”

Patton backed a step away, holding the rat closer.

“What would you think if I went and got a rat cage tonight, and some toys and proper food, and you could pick out four to keep? And they stay in the cage. And then I get one cat to keep the others out of the stable.”

Patton frowned, turmoil rolling across his face. “Only if I can take as many as I can out to the paddock before the cat comes.”

Thomas nodded immediately.

Patton nodded slowly. “Ok.”

Thomas looked around. “I have some friends, Joan and Talyn, and they have pet rats. The cage is pretty big, I’m not sure it would fit in your stall comfortably, but perhaps we could find a way to hang it in the next stall so you can still reach and open it from inside yours.”

Patton’s face brightened a lot. “I could still play with them?”

Thomas nodded. “Of course, that’s the point.”

Patton looked slightly embarrassed. “I thought you’d put them over by the closet or something…”

Thomas felt a sudden impulse to hug Patton. “No. Patton, I really want for you all to be happy. I wouldn’t take your friends and stick them somewhere you couldn’t have them.”

Patton’s face got really soft, and just a bit teary. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Thomas opened the stall door and held out his arms, and Patton crashed into him in a tight hug. He wasn’t sure where the rat was, but he couldn’t feel it running onto him, so he just focused on hugging Patton.

He waited until Patton let go first.

“If you want to try gathering them up now we can go to the paddock,” Thomas suggested.

Patton nodded quickly.

Even if it was more than a little disconcerting, it was also very interesting to see Patton making little noises and seeing the mice and rats coming out and climbing onto his back, waiting patiently for the bits of leftover breakfast he fed them. Judging by Logan and Virgil’s faces, they thought so too. There had to be nearly twenty. Thomas tore his eyes away.

“Would you two like to go to the paddock with us or would you rather stay here?”

Virgil looked like he’d rather stay, but didn’t say anything at first.

“I would appreciate going out,” Logan said. “As well as an explanation of what happened last night and this morning.”

“I’ll go with you guys then,” Virgil said.

Thomas nodded and pulled down the halters. He handed them out, instead of trying to put them on, only helping when Patton couldn’t quite reach without disturbing his ‘passengers’.

“Don’t hold the ropes in the same hand,” Virgil said. “I want to be as far away from the rats as possible.”

“There’s only a few rats,” Patton said. “Most of them are mice.”

Virgil shuddered.

“Have they been bothering you?” Thomas asked. “With this many in the stable, especially being in Patton’s stall…”

“He gets the rats out of mine and I get the spiders out of his,” Virgil said, sidling out of the stall and away from Patton.

“It’s truly remarkable the way they each seem to have a control over the animals,” Logan commented, though he also stayed away from Patton.

Thomas just nodded.

The walk out to the paddock went well, despite several jumpy movements by Virgil. Thomas was very glad to release them inside, but then Patton walked off to disperse the rats, leaving him alone with a skittish Virgil and Logan, who he barely knew. Then again, he hadn’t known any of them for very long.

But Logan just turned away and started walking, along the fence, rather slowly. And Virgil followed him.

So then Thomas didn’t really have anything to do.

“Maybe I should’ve waited and napped out here,” he mused.

He ended up sitting on the rail of the fence and just watching them. Patton seemed to be giving each one of his mice a personal goodbye, and Logan and Virgil didn’t look to be talking at all, just walking together, following the fence. Thomas wondered why. And also realized that they all looked just a bit… unkempt. Not their horse halves, but their human sides. Logan and Virgil definitely needed regular access to a hairbrush, and Patton might have curls if he had the right products to care for his hair. And they could all use a new, clean shirt. Which led him to realize that they didn’t even have pajamas, much less regularly change into them.

He was caught up enough in thought that he didn’t notice Virgil until he was nearly on top of him, and when he finally saw him he startled, and fell backwards off the fence with a yell. Virgil also startled, rearing up and letting out a kind of a screech.

“Owww… Sorry.”

Virgil was still panting and wide-eyed, but nodded. “Yeah. That was… half on me anyway.”

Thomas got to his feet again. “Are you ok? What did you need?”

“I’m fine, but Logan’s legs are hurting. I’m not sure what to do to help.”

Thomas looked down the paddock, to see Logan a good ways down. He was still walking slowly, towards them now, but it was a decent distance yet.

“Alright. Thank you for telling me, I’ll see what I can do.”

Thomas’s first impulse had been to call the vet immediately, but he knew from experience that the vet he usually called wouldn’t take ‘hearsay’, which was basically anything another centaur said. And while he had that number memorized, that wasn’t the vet he’d been told to call if these centaurs ever needed medical care.

So instead he jogged down the field towards Logan.

Logan saw him coming from a ways off, and stopped, waiting for him and Virgil, though Virgil reached him much faster.

Thomas was pretty decently winded by the time he reached them, but tried not to show it too much.

“So what’s… the problem…?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Logan said. “It’s likely since I’m not working, but my legs are sore.”

“Can I check them?” Thomas asked. “I’d need to touch them.”

Logan nodded, but his face seemed to go a bit slack. As if he were dissociating. Thomas felt something in his stomach drop at that, but he was too concerned for Logan to just back off.

He ran a hand carefully down Logan’s front leg, and didn’t really feel any weird… lumps or tears or anything… he didn’t entirely know what he was looking for. But what he did not like was how very warm they felt. Almost hot, like they were inflamed.

“Ok. Let’s get you back to the stable, and I’m going to wrap your legs with a cooling gel, alright?”

Logan nodded, not looking at Thomas, his eyes distant.

Thomas frowned in worry.

“Virgil, would you get Patton, please? I’ll walk with Logan back to the gate.”

Virgil nodded, clearly just as concerned.

Thomas walked slowly, waiting for Logan, but as soon as he turned away from the fence to cut across the shorter way Logan stopped.

“Are you ok? Do your legs hurt more?”

Logan shook his head. “I can’t go that way.”

Thomas frowned, but nodded. “Ok, but why not?”

“There could be holes.”

“There aren’t that many, and you can just step around. We don’t have to be that fast, you can walk carefully.”

Logan just frowned, and started walking along the fence again, just as slowly as before.

Thomas felt a surge of frustration at his stubbornness, especially when they should really get him back to the stable as soon as possible. He took a deep breath. It was very likely that Logan had a reason, likely that it was a good one. The question was why he wasn’t mentioning his reason.

“Logan, there are holes along the fence as well, I don’t understand why you need to go this way. I would really prefer if we could get back to the stable faster.”

“Then you shouldn’t have sent Virgil away,” Logan said, his voice as close to a snap as Thomas had heard yet.

Thomas was now even more confused. But he knew that meeting anger with anger Never turned out well. He’d had more than enough just as confusing arguments with Remy to convince him of that.

“I’m sorry for sending him away, I didn’t realize you would prefer him to stay. We can call him back, I’m sure he’s talked with Patton by this time.”

Logan turned and stared at him, his eyes squinted in disbelief. He crossed his arms. “Please do.”

Thomas turned away and called Virgil, hoping his voice carried far enough. Virgil did turn and start cantering towards them, Patton following close behind.

“Yes?” Virgil said, his eyes wide and a shiver running over his flanks.

“Logan wanted you to walk back with us,” Thomas said.

Logan nodded, an odd look coming over his face. Virgil sidled up close to him, leaning against him, and murmuring something quietly. Soon they were both walking back across the field towards the fence. Thomas jogged behind, and Patton walked next to him, a tight smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, Patton, I’ll do everything I can and call a vet to help too.”

Patton nodded, but when he spoke his voice was just as tight as his smile. “Thanks.”

They got back to the stable without any more problems, but Thomas could see that Logan was walking more and more stiffly.

“Alright,” Thomas said, trying to keep his thoughts in order and not panic. “Logan, if you want to lay on your bed, I’ll see what I can do for your legs now, and then I’ll call the vet. Or perhaps I’d better call the vet first…”

“I believe calling the vet ought to come first,” Logan said, laying on the bed and looking very tired and sore.

Thomas nodded and went to the phone.

“Hello?” The vet said, answering almost immediately.

“Yes, so I’m the new groom for the Authier’s centaurs, and one is in pain. It’s in his legs, and they’re hot to the touch.”

There was a thoughtful hum and the faint sound of paper rustling. “Which one, the big one?”

“Yes.”

“Was there any kind of incident?”

“No, he was just walking.”

“I see. Wrap it up then, and don’t let him do anything strenuous, I’ll be out this evening.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Thomas sighed and set the phone down. He’d intended to use cooling gel, which he’d seen while organizing the other day, but the vet hadn’t said anything about it, and he didn’t want to make things slightly better and then she’d think it wasn’t as bad as it actually was. So he just got out the wraps and wrapped up Logan’s legs, tightly enough to provide some support.

“Feeling any better?” He asked hopefully.

But Logan shook his head, eyes closed, and mouth tight.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing but attempt to help.” Logan said matter-of-factly, but Thomas could still hear the faint tinge of pain in his voice.

Thomas went right back to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Yes, this is Thomas again, er, the new groom. What can I do for pain relief before you get there?”

The vet sighed in a slightly annoyed way. “You really shouldn’t give any medicine before I get there.”

“He’s in pain. I need something.”

She made a short, annoyed sound. “If you have Equipalazone you can give him some of that, based on his weight. Only use one dose before I get there, and if it’s needed I’ll give the ok for more.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Mhmm.”

She hung up.

Thomas went searching through the medicine cabinet, and finally found some.

“Does anyone know how much Logan weighs?”

“Likely in the area of 2,200 pounds, based on my last weighing,” Logan said.

Thomas frowned at the box. “Then eight--nine grams. Ok.”

He opened it to see packets. Of powder. He grimaced, hoping it would be too awful-tasting.

“Is there a way you know of that you’d prefer to take it?”

Logan was also looking at the packets with disgust. “Mix them all in water, and provide a second, clear cup.”

Thomas nodded immediately, making and then handing both cups to Logan. Somehow Logan managed to swallow the first cup with not much more than a nasty face, and then drained the second.

“Do you want more water? Or something with a better taste?” Thomas offered.

Logan nodded, his face still screwed up.

Thomas grabbed one of his drink packets. They were meant to be put in water bottles and he was supposed to be using them to drink more, but it wasn’t awfully effective, especially not when coffee existed. He put it in a large cup of water and handed it to Logan.

Logan was very clearly surprised by the flavor, and slowly drank the cup, swishing the drink around in his mouth to flush the flavor of the medicine down.

“Better?”

“The taste is much better, and I believe the pain will fade.”

“Oh, good.” Thomas sat down, relief washing over him.

He’d thought, when he took the job, that he’d been watching two anyway, so four wouldn’t be a huge problem. But he’d underestimated the problems that other people would cause. He wasn’t sure he could keep this up on a normal work day.

#centaur au #character!thomas #character thomas #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remy sleep #emile picani #my own work #injury #medicine

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bold-writing · 3 years

Text

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 7 || Simplicity in Normalcy

Warnings: Swearing.

Words: 3700+

Previous || Next

~7~

Iris tried to support the basket that was draped over one of her arms; the weight of her groceries was making her wish that she had decided to get a cart that she could push instead. Trying to take some of the weight off, she leaned the basket against her hip as she looked at the display of crackers. A snack of cheese and crackers was on her list of cravings at the moment, and she was really hoping to get home quickly. The weather report was calling for thunderstorms and Iris did not want to worry about running home through a downpour while hauling bags of food.

Finally selecting a slightly pricy brand of vegetable crackers, Iris turned to head further down the aisle for the coffee and tea section—she was so stocked up on tea that she was desperate to get something different and Barry told her he liked sweet coffee so she was planning to get some just in case he spent the night again.

The thought of having him over caused a blush to rise to her cheeks, so Iris hurried down to the coffee section and looked over the shelves to try and find the tin of coffee that she had bought in the past. A huffing sigh passed her lips when she noticed that it had been raised up to the top two shelves, making it impossible for her to reach even when on her tip toes.

Taking a step back for a better reading on the height difference, she only ended with another sigh. It was probably just out of reach of her fingers if she stretched.

“Damn.”

“You look like you could use a hand, Sweetie.”

Gasping in surprise and turning quickly, Iris nearly dropped her basket as the words that were across her back were spoken in a deep, accented voice—was that a Southern accent?—that was shockingly familiar. A hand darted out to catch the basket as it slipped precariously on her arm, nearly losing some of its contents. Iris’s attention lifted to the familiar face of her soulmate, but one brief glance confirmed her assumption that this was not Barry.

A pair of slightly worn black jeans and a soft looking blue shirt was exposed through an open leather jacket, startling Iris into leaning back slightly. Having the image of Barry still quite fresh in her mind, she hadn’t really been prepared for the appearance of another personality. This one was more casual, less focused on fashionable clothing while still looking extremely attractive in what he was wearing.

“Wow, hello,” Iris blurted out before she could think of her words. Her cheeks immediately grew hot as she realized what had come out of her mouth, while the man before her laughed heartily, the laugh lines on his face more prominent than they had been with Barry. Iris immediately pushed the thought of Barry aside, feeling bad that she was thinking of him while another soulmate was standing in front of her now.

“Hello to you, too, little one. So, need a hand?” he motioned to the coffee tin that she had been stretched for a minute ago, causing Iris’s eyes to finally flick away from him as she glanced back to the shelves.

“Oh…yes, please.” Ducking her head in embarrassment, the man deeply chuckled before he stepped up beside her and easily grabbed the tin and offered it to her slowly, as though he didn’t want to startle her.

“Iris,” he began carefully, taking the encounter very slowly. Did she look like a frightened animal? Those whiskey eyes finally looked up at him, the soft rose in her usually pale cheeks making his smile grow. “I believe I have you at a disadvantage. My name’s Luke,” he introduced, holding his hand out to her. Iris dropped the tin into her basket and reached out to shake his hand as a timid smile touched her lips.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

“That looks heavy,” he commented as he motioned to the basket. “Give it here, Sweetie. Barry’ll have my hide if I make you carry that.” Surprise must have shown on her face, because another laugh sounded from him as he gently extracted the basket from her hold. “He makes sure we all stay in line, and he’s absolutely smitten with you.”

He must have enjoyed watching Iris blush because he was on a roll at this point. “Well, do I need to bring up that you were following me or is this a coincidence?” Iris retorted, courage in her words showing more confidence than she actually felt.

Luke, however, seemed greatly amused with her comment and the smile on his face grew. “Rest assured, Sweetie, this is a complete coincidence.” Luke motioned behind, turning the small woman’s attention over to where there was a shopping cart piled with food. “I haven’t done the groceries for a while, so I was forced out today.”

Amusement flittered across Iris’s face as she took stock of the cart. There was such a mixture of things that it was easy to tell it was for many different people’s preferences. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy,” she commented offhand, noticing the amount of chocolate and sugary goods that were piled at the foot of the cart.

Luke rubbed the back of his buzzed head bashfully as he nodded in agreement. “I wasn’t given a list, so I kinda just grabbed everything that I’ve seen in the place before. Hedwig’s gunna be running around like a lunatic, though, so Patricia’s gunna kill me when she finds out I bought all this.” The introduction of two new names made Iris look back at him with shining eyes, filled with curiosity.

“Hedwig and Patricia?” she repeated. The way he spoke about them made Iris all the more curious about the many different personalities within this body. Hedwig sounded like he was much younger than Barry or Luke, and the fact that Patricia was distinctly female was another interesting thought.

“Yea, they’re quite the pair. You’ll understand when you meet them,” he dodged, looking mildly worried that he had said more than he should. “So, are we finished or do I need to rescue anything else from top shelves for you?” he teased instead, walking them over to the cart that he had stocked full.

“Nope, coffee was the last thing on my list,” she answered easily. She technically needed more, but she never bought too much at once since she always carried it home. “What about you? As someone as small as me, I can make it easier to get things from the bottom shelf.”

“Aren’t you clever today? I was just gunna make a stop in the cereal aisle, then I’m off.” Placing her basket of food in the top section of the cart, Luke began to push it as Iris stuttered behind him. Was he actually holding her groceries hostage? “You did offer your help. For all I know, Hedwig’s cereal is on the bottom shelf!”

“You’re terrible,” she stuttered, hurrying to catch up to him.

Admittedly, Iris had researched Dissociative Identity Disorder after she had found Dr. Fletcher’s articles and essays on the topic. However, she hadn’t been sure what to expect when it came down to actually meeting someone who had many identities for one body; especially now that she knew for certain that Kevin’s body housed men, woman and possibly children. Barry and Luke were already drastically different, so it made her a mix of excited and nervous to meet the other soulmates that she was sure was ten-fold what normal people felt when meeting their soulmates.

This was one face, twenty-three different ways.

The twenty-forth mark hadn’t developed any further since it first appeared, stuck as a blurry one-word mark that looked like a black smudge beneath her collarbone. While thinking of the mark, Iris’s hand came to rub over the spot subconsciously.

“Hey, you alright?”

Luke’s sudden question drew Iris from her thoughts as she looked up at the concerned blue eyes that were level with hers. She’d stopped walking mid-aisle and was staring into space, prompting Luke to turn around and bend in front of her so they were the same height. “Yea, sorry,” she mumbled out while dropping her hand from the mark. “Just got lost in my thoughts for a second; I used to worry that I was…broken, or there was some kind of mistake with my marks and I would never actually meet any of my soulmates. Now, in little more than a week, I’ve met two of you and learned the truth of why I have so many. It’s very…”

“Overwhelming?” Luke supplied with a soft look of understanding in his eyes; seeing that look relieved the tension that had built in Iris as her thoughts progressed.

“Yea,” she breathed. “But I am happy, so that definitely makes it worth it.”

Luke’s expression immediately brightened before he was reaching for Iris’s hand, tugging her after him as he made for the cereal aisle. Iris went silently this time, her expression growing soft as Luke began to rant about how much he hated when he was the one who had to go and get groceries. She listened closely the entire time, wanting to absorb all of the information that she could about the alters.

“And Barry, love the guy, but he is so picky,” he groaned, snatching box of Lucky Charms—even though it was on the bottom shelf and he had to bend to get it. Iris was half surprised that he hadn’t followed through and made her get anything that was lower on the shelves.

“He didn’t seem picky when I was with him,” she admitted, “But I’m not the one who’s lived with him so long,” she added a moment later, absentmindedly adjusting some of the items on the shelves near her—something she’d picked up from all of her years of retail.

“Lucky you,” Luke retorted with a snort, glancing up and down the aisle as though to make sure that he wasn’t forgetting anything.

“What about you? If I asked Barry, would he say you were picky?” Iris asked in return, pulling at her sleeves as she glanced back to him. With Barry, she had allowed herself to relax when it came to her marks, but that was in her home. Now, in an open place, it was very different. She wasn’t wearing gloves, so it made things very different about her comfort level and who was looking at the mark on the back of her hand.

Even if people thought it was her only one, there were still unmarked out there who would be violent or rude toward those with marks.

Luke didn’t seem to notice the movements, beginning to push the cart—and her basket—toward the cash registers. “Oh, I’ll eat anything,” he admitted with a broad grin. “Patricia’s happy about that, at least when it’s good food; isn’t always happy that I’ll go for just about any junk food out there.”

“I don’t blame her,” Iris admitted. “Please tell me you don’t eat fast-food.”

Turning to look at him with a slightly desperate look in her eyes, Luke opened his mouth as though to deny it, but then snapped his jaw shut and looked away sheepishly. Iris’s eyebrow quirked up as she paused at the end of the aisle, while stepping aside as an older woman squeezed past them to get into the cereal section.

“Only sometimes,” he finally admitted quietly, peaking at her from the corner of his eye.

“Mhm,” Iris hummed in understanding, though still sounding doubtful. “Barry might be picky but you’re junky,” she blamed, pointing at him while turning the corner to continue on without him. Luke’s jaw dropped as she walked away, somehow not having expected her to actually tease him. As someone who had run off when Barry first met her, he hadn’t thought she would be so comfortable with the rest of them right off the bat.

Following after her, he fought a smile as he saw a flash of her true colours. She was definitely a quiet person and much more timid than either him or Barry, but there was a bold streak within her that he definitely wanted to see more often.

Glancing down at the basket of her things that was still sitting at the front of his cart, Luke wondered if that was really enough for her. She’d told Barry that she didn’t have any food left in her apartment, and this sure as hell didn’t seem like enough to fill a kitchen. Knowing as little about her as he did, he could definitely say she was a practical person, so she was probably only getting enough to get by that she could manage to carry.

He barely knew her, she was very new to having people to rely on, so he wouldn’t say anything about her meager shopping. There was a specific way she was used to doing things. Barry had said that she may seem underweight, but she was actually just really skinny; her arm was rather muscular beneath the skin. Looking at her, he found it somewhat hard to believe, but Barry wasn’t known to lie. Sometimes, he was brutally honest.

When he turned the corner to find Iris, she was standing in front of a display of flowers that were already prepared in individual bouquets. Her fingers traced over the petals of one, feeling the silky texture as she looked over the pale violet of the bloom. He didn’t even know what the flower was, looked like some kind of daisy, but it brought a smile to Iris’s lips as she took in the details and feel of the delicate plant.

“Any chance your favourite flower is an Iris?” he asked as he came up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see the flower arrangement better.

The woman in question laughed, releasing the bloom from between her fingers. “No, I think those flowers look rather strange, if I’m being honest. I used to like lilies most when I was younger, but then I successfully grew marigolds and they kinda got a special place in my heart.”

“Aw, still room for the rest of us, I hope,” he teased, leaning on the handle of the cart.

Iris’s cheeks flushed at the question while she looked back at him over her shoulder; even leaning as he was he still had a couple of inches on her. “No one else is so close to me,” she answered softly, looking up at him with those whiskey eyes. It damn near melted his heart. “I was made your soulmate for a reason. Maybe that’s why my heart’s been kept empty for so long; to provide more room for more people in my future.”

Luke’s expression softened as he just watched her for a moment. There wasn’t heartbreak or sadness in her expression as she spoke of her lack of family, or love in her life, but it still pained him to know that she’d been alone for so long. Barry had chosen not to share all that he knew with everyone, saying that it was her story to tell. And in time, when she met them, she would tell them, too. So, Luke only knew basics, but it was easy to know that someone with her timidity and fear had been through hell. Abused by parents, as Fletcher had suspected, was something they were aware could leave serious damage behind.

Reaching out for her, Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew in her against his chest. Iris looked surprised at the suddenness of the action, her head tipped back to look him in the eye. “Sweetheart, I promise your heart will never be empty again.”

Her somber expression faded with a smile as she leaned into him just slightly, accepting his embrace. “I’m coming to understand that truth.”

Giving her another tight squeeze, pulling her in close to his chest as her tiny form nearly disappeared into his leather jacket. “So, let’s go check out,” he offered instead, not one to stick to serious topics if he could help it.

Nodding in agreement, Iris stepped reluctantly away from him.

Luke and Barry may have shared a body, but they definitely were different people. Even their smell was different, and she knew that it wasn’t because of differing brands of cologne. Barry had smelled clean, like crisp clothing and a fresh shower. Luke had more of a musky smell to him, like leather and wood-smoke. It was an interesting comparison, yet it suited their personalities perfectly as well.

Luke didn’t let her wonder too far away from him, instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her in closer to his side as he pushed the cart with one hand. Even though a blush warmed Iris’s cheeks, she was relieved to be near. Being with to a soulmate was the greatest comfort she could ever have; that anyone could have.

“You stay close to me, Sweetie—you’re so tiny someone could carry you away from me.” Somehow, Iris wasn’t surprised that he combined a tease with a protective action and statement. Even having only been around him for a few minutes, the backwards complement/tease was right up his alley.

“I haven’t blown away by wind yet, so I’m sure I’ll be okay,” Iris teased back. The laugh that she received in response warmed her heart and had a smile blooming across her face.

Luke smirked down at her and squeezed her shoulders as he parroted, “Yet.”

“Oh, shush you,” she laughed, nudging his side with her elbow as she turned her attention ahead of them to see which of the check-out lanes was free, or almost free. “Come on, so I can have my groceries back.”

“I dunno, those crackers are calling to me, I might have to-”

Before he could even grab them from the basket, Iris’s small hand snapped up and slapped the back of his with surprising force. He jerked back and stopped walking as he looked down at the small woman in shock—the back of his hand actually stung slightly with the suddenness of her slap, and the force behind it. Her cheeks were still flushed but there was a faint upturn to her lips that made her look like she was smirking coyly.

“No touching my crackers.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Luke was definitely looking forward to knowing Iris better over time; and if how relaxed Barry had been when he’d returned the night before had been any indication, she was going to be good for all of them. Her judgement of his food already reminded him of Patricia, but much less…scary. Even though her eyes held a haunting past in them, he was sure that they were all going to make one big weird, perfect family. Hedwig was already spending most of his time out of the light raving about her, but they all knew that he wouldn’t meet her until she was comfortable enough to come to their home—body of a man or not, they would never allow a nine-year-old boy out on his own. Regardless of how badly he wanted to meet Iris.

“Although, I may have to hold your groceries hostage a little while longer,” Luke continued a moment later, pulling himself back to reality as he snatched Iris’s basket before she could.

“What?” the small woman stuttered in surprise; she had not been expecting him to continue the whole charade now that they were checking out.

“Until I have safely walked you home, I will not let you have your groceries.”

Iris frowned faintly at him. “I can’t let you do that, Luke. You have a ton of things yourself, and I’m just down the block. I’ve done this a million times before.” Her eyes scanned over the cart, knowing that Luke was going to have several more bags than her and as strong as he seemed, she didn’t want to cause any trouble for the man.

“Well, good thing I was planning on calling a cab—and Barry spilled the beans, I know that your place is near that little café that Jade loves, which means you’re on my way home. So, we’ll take a cab and both of us are saved from that.” As he finished speaking, he pointed to the front window of the store. Iris followed the direction of his finger and gasped at the sight of the absolute downpour that was happening outside. The few people out there had umbrellas or bags over their heads and they were madly rushing for the nearest cover. It was enough that she nearly missed his mention of another name. Jade.

“Oh, no,” she grumbled, already dreading the simple thought of walking through that.

“By that tone, I’m guessing I win,” Luke whispered dramatically, bent forward so that he was right next to her ear. Iris sighed while her shoulders dropped, defeated. “Ha! Victory!” he called, celebrating.

Iris couldn’t help but to laugh at his antics, shaking her head while she moved forward to place a divider on the cashier’s belt, then reach out for her basket with a strict, no nonsense look that was usually reserved for rowdy children that were brought into her store. Luke grinned somewhat sheepishly and finally returned her basket so that she could empty it out onto the belt, placing another divider to separate their things.

The simple, everyday routine allowed them both to relax after the initial excitement of meeting. Luke had nearly fled the aisle when he’d first seen her, having thought that there was no possible way that it could really be her. He’d never had such amazing luck before, but it seemed that it was finally his time because she’d been just as Barry had told them.

The mark on the back of her hand, and the trace of another on her wrist like Fletcher and Barry had explained, just confirmed everything.

Iris, on the other hand, was already reeling from having spent time with one soulmate, who even slept over at her apartment, and now she was meeting another. It almost made her dizzy, especially since they wore the same face but had such differing styles and personalities. It made her wonder if it would get easier with each of the identities, or if she would always feel that strange mix of familiarity and nervousness that boiled over into timid excitement when she met them.

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#Split #Split Movie #Barry Split #Barry #Dennis Split #Dennis #Barry/OC #Dennis/OC #Barry Imagine #Split Imagine #Dennis Imagine #Split Fanfiction #The One With Whiskey Eyes #Hedwig Split #Patricia Split #Luke Split

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Text

L'inizio- A La Squadra Backstory Collection

Chapter 3: Due Cuori (Sorbet & Gelato Part 1)

Word Count: ~3800

Warnings: parental abandonment, homelessness, mildly-suggestive behaviour

The young boy sobs into the bag he’s carrying as he flees down the dark, damp street. The quick-paced footsteps of his pursuer sound loudly as they smack against the wet concrete. The boy prays for some rain to cover the sounds of his panting and running, but he knows such luck will not be afforded to him.

He is out of his depth in this part of Naples. Not yet 14, he’s one of many such young fools who thought it would be easy to snatch a little money from one of the smaller street gangs that roam this part of the town, making the crucial mistake of thinking ‘smaller’ was synonymous with less relentless. The boy has barely a moment to comprehend the dead end ahead of him before he is knocked sharply around the back of his head and sent reeling to the floor.

“Where the hell is my money, you shit?!” the angered man interrogates him sharply. He rears a clenched fist ready to strike him again, and the boy cowers against the wall.

“It’s there! Right there!” he shrieks desperately, pointing at the back dropped at his side. The man spits. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun. “I swear Signor! The money’s there!” the boy pleads, his voice hitching in mortal terror. The man scoffs venomously.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Two shots ring out, but they aren’t aimed at the boy. The man’s blood splashes over him as he chokes on it, falling to the ground without a word. The boy counts two wounds on the man’s back.

The figure at the end of the alleyway lowers his gun and begins to approach. He is somewhere on the boundary between boyhood and manhood, perhaps about 18, at a first guess. He is darkly dressed, with hair to match, and he returns his weapon to his pocket with a detached smoothness that suggests great experience with the murderous act. He leans over the boy and picks up his bag, smiling in satisfaction at the wad of cash crudely jammed inside. He zips the bag up and hauls it over his shoulder.

“Grazie,” he thanks him, turning away and beginning his journey back down the alleyway.

He does not walk far before he reaches his destination- a small house in a densely packed row just a street away. He knocks calmly, and the door soon opens.

“Ah, Sorbet,” the responder answers. “I thought I’d heard gunfire.”

“’Evening Gabriele,” he greets him, sorting off some of the money in his hands. “20,000 lire says I can stay the night.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gabriele agrees with a small chuckle. “Come right in, friend.”

Sorbet removes his jacket and seats himself down on the sofa, shuffling the bag protectively behind his legs. He takes off his own bag as well and pilfers through to find the chewing gum he’s been saving for this evening.

“May I ask how you still haven’t found a place of your own? Surely you must be rolling in it from all that blood money you’ve got lately. Hell,” he remarks, eyeing the money poking out from behind Sorbet’s lap. “You could probably sort yourself out for a couple months on that alone.”

“You can certainly ask,” Sorbet answers apathetically.

“Well?”

Sorbet looks at him contemplatively before deciding he’s in the mood for compliance tonight. He leans back.

“To put it simply I’ve just been out of it too long. ‘Don’t have my birth certificate, ‘don’t have any documents of that sort. I left home at 14 and frankly I’d be shocked if I wasn’t legally dead by now. Well, assuming my mum was ever lucid enough to do the paperwork, that is.”

“You could rent a flat from the gang. They’d hardly say no to you,” Gabriele suggests.

“Not really a fan of that sort of obligation, Gabe,” Sorbet refutes him. “Besides, the quote on quote ‘buildings’ the gang owns get busted by the cops all the time. I hardly wanna deal with that at 1 in the morning.”

“True,” Gabriele snorts. A knock sounds at the door. “Who the fuck at this time of night?” he gripes.

“No idea, but have fun with them,” Sorbet says, getting to his feet. “I’m off to help myself to your shower,” he announces, departing up the stairs. Gabriele answers the door.

“H-Hello,” the newcomer greets. It’s another teenager, with messy blond hair and a sky of freckles. He shivers into his thin jacket, hand red-raw from clutching his heavy bag. “Are you Gabriele?” he asks.

“Who’s asking?” Gabriele says with scrutiny.

“My name is Gelato, sir. You don’t know me, but I know a friend of yours from Florence, well, small village outside of Florence, I’m sure you know which one I mean. I heard from him you wanted to get someone to do errands for you and well, I was wondering if I could do that for you,” the boy offers. There’s a wild look in his desperate green eyes, and Gabriele knows this won’t end quickly for him.

“Kid, that was weeks ago! What the hell took you so long?” he asks.

“It’s not my fault I had to walk here!” Gelato protests. “Look, I got kicked out by my parents, I’m only 17 and if you don’t help me I’ll have nowhere to go!” he pleads.

“That’s rough and all, but the job’s closed. Go find a shelter or something.”

“PLEASE!” Gelato begs. He’s trembling, but there’s a touch of anger in his eyes as he glares at him that makes Gabriele mildly scared to turn him down.

“Look, I have neither the need nor the money for another errand boy right now. But, now I think of it I do know a guy who needs someone to manage a bar for him. Make no mistake, it’s nothing more than a meet-up spot for the gang so don’t expect anything fancy, but I think it has a flat upstairs. Maybe you can ask to move into the place as your pay.”

“A bar? That’s perfect!” Gelato enthuses. “Thank you thank you so much!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m happy for you. Now If I go give the guy a call will you please piss off?” Gabriele entreats him.

“Anything you say sir! Thank you!” Gelato agrees. Gabriele heads for his phone with a sigh.

::::::::::::

An hour later, Gelato finds himself in the staff-only section of what was once a fully functioning bar.

“Look kid, it’s not hard stuff,” his guide tells him. “Just keep ‘em drunk enough they can’t kill each other and ring me up if you hear any talk the boss ought to here,” he explains.

“Yes sir, I will,” Gelato answers dutifully. The man opens a rickety door leading to a thin, steep staircase. Gelato follows him up.

“And, this is the flat you were so eager about,” the man announces, looking over the dark, dust-filled space of the bare-bones apartment. There’s a frightful stain on the sofa, and one of the kitchen cabinet doors is hanging on one hinge. “Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you have it when I could be giving it to someone who pays. Don’t expect a penny more from me, this is your full payment,” he continues.

“But how will I eat?” Gelato protests.

“I guess you better hope they tip you good,” the man answers apathetically. “Look, if you do a good job and don’t piss me off, maybe I can spare a few thousand lire a night later on, but until then, you’re getting no more help from me,” he maintains. “Maybe you should learn to pickpocket. ‘Useful skill to have around here.”

Gelato growls inwardly. Of course he knows how to pickpocket! Well- how to pickpocket 13 year olds outside a school gate. Grown men might be a different matter, but he’ll figure it out. Getting caught can’t be much worse than what happened when his parents found out.

“Alright. Thanks,” Gelato forces himself to say. The man gives a satisfied nod and exits.

“Make sure you know where everything is before you open at 9,” he says.

Gelato seeks out the bedroom and lies down, not caring how musty the frayed sheets smell. He grabs the pillow and hugs it close to him like a stuffed toy. It occurs to him that he’s scared.

::::::::::::

It takes him a month to accept his parents aren’t taking him back, two to stop fucking up every day of his life and three to feel some sense of normalcy in his new life at the bar. That’s not to say he’s happy, by any means, simply that he holds onto his current existence with a vice-grip, for fear that things could only get worse if he shook the boat too much.

He sleeps until noon, usually, leaves the house as soon as he’s awake enough to do so and just walks. Anywhere. Sometimes he tries to pickpocket but ever since that beating he earned from a poorly chosen victim, he saves it for his most desperate days. After lunch, if he has any, he sometimes goes to the library. He was never much of a scholar and rarely reads, but he finds the place more pleasant to dissociate in than his apartment.

Should he feel like treating himself, he occasionally visits the arcade when he has the change to spare. After it became clear letting him waste away was not in the landlord’s best interests if he wanted his bar to stay running, he began to help a little with food costs but nowhere near enough for such frivolous outings to be frequently affordable.

Around 3pm, Gelato goes home and sleeps until his hunger forces him to get up and eat. He likes to make a start early on setting up the bar, and cleaning it from the messes of its previous nights patrons, so he tries to begin by 7. It opens at 9 and closes at 2, after which Gelato will shower, and spend a short stretch of time watching the old, boxy TV he pulled out of the attic in bed, before sleeping.

As he exits the cellar, he receives a few apathetic glances from some of the patrons but ultimately nothing much. His eyes are on the far corner of the bar where, to perhaps less of his concern than it should be, two men are engaged in a heated argument. It’s a sight he’s well used to now, but he keeps a keen watch on the men, since the landlord insisted he de-escalate anything that looks like it may prove fatal.

“I don’t care what your excuses are! We had a deal and you’re going to fucking pay me!” The first man shouts. He is one of the younger ones, probably little older than Gelato but with an air of authority more akin to some of the older individuals in the mob. He has heard whispers about this man- his name is Sorbet and he is an enforcer. The mobsters are cautious about the word ‘assassin’, it makes them sound like a more ambitious group than they truly are, one that could be deemed a threat by the larger syndicates that truly control this city. Yet, Gelato reads between the lines when they talk about the things Sorbet has done. As Gelato approaches Sorbet’s eyes flick towards him momentarily. Gelato shies away from the eye contact and feels an odd feeling inside him. Seeing Sorbet always makes him feel odd. He doesn’t dare speak to him directly.

“Whatever. It ain’t on me if you misread what we were talking about. You did me a favour, nothing more,” the second man retorts. He’s another regular, as familiar to Gelato, if not more, than Sorbet is, even if he doesn’t know him by name. He is a cruel man, impatient and aggressive whenever he visits. Gelato always tremors a little when he comes through the door.

Still, he scares him less than Sorbet.

Gelato forces a smile as he approaches the second man.

“Pardon me, could I get you any more-” he inhales sharply as the half-full bottle of wine is chucked over him.

“Yes, one more of these,” the man orders coldly. Gelato wipes his eyes.

“Right away,” he nods, turning back towards the cellar and fighting every fibre of his being telling him not to let this slide.

Gelato descends into the cellar, shaking from the cold of his wet clothes and anger. As he pulls a new bottle off the shelf he wonders briefly if he ought to piss in it, but decides the best result that could come of that is having it thrown over him again. He pats down his shirt and takes the bottle back up to the bar.

He knows what has happened before the door is even open. The sound of shouting is familiar to him, and if the past few minutes is anything to go by, it’s Sorbet and that petulant man’s feud which has turned violent. Opening the door proves his theory, as a small crowd has formed around Sorbet and his opponent as they engage in a relentless match of fists.

Gelato debates to himself. He could put down the bottle and run, he could try and calm the men down and risk one or both of them turning their anger on him, or he could use this opportunity to finally get back at that bastard’s disrespect. Gelato’s never been much of a thinking sort. His mind doesn’t take long to settle on the third option. He rears the bottle above his head and charges.

There’s a collective gasp of shock as Gelato suddenly crashes into the man, smashing the bottle over the back of his skull with full strength. It shatters, and the man falls to the floor with a groan. Gelato looks up at Sorbet, briefly fearing his interference may have provoked anger but, Sorbet only smiles.

Gelato rushes to his feet just in time to join his new ally in kicking the man, again and again until he starts to spit blood. Gelato picks up the remains of the bottle’s base and pours out the remaining liquid onto his enemy’s face in one, final insult. The crowd cheers. Evidently this man was not so popular with the gang after all.

Gelato sits down, whoozy from exhaustion and adrenaline. He finds himself laughing. He cannot recall the last time he’s done that. Sorbet leans down and pulls a stack of cash from the unconscious man’s pocket.

“Lying bastard,” he scoffs. “He did have the money. Probably a lot more than I asked for, but I can hardly complain about that.” Sorbet turns to Gelato with a look of deliberation. He pulls out one of the 50,000 lire bills and hands it to him with a smile.

“For your trouble,” he declares. He withdraws his hand with a slow deliberateness, their fingertips touching for just the briefest of seconds. The odd feeling Gelato has felt since laying eyes on Sorbet returns with a vengeance, and yet, Gelato can feel nothing but awe as it begins to eat his heart.

Oh dear. Gelato might have a crush.

::::::::::::

It is three days later to the hour, that Gelato finds himself hauled into the cellar and pinned against the wall, mouth agape in shock as Sorbet digs his fingers into his neck. It occurs to Gelato he might have gone about this the wrong way.

“Alright, spit it out,” Sorbet demands. “What the hell was that up there?”

“Pardon?” Gelato pleads fearfully.

“Did you think I would let you get away with mocking me like that?” Sorbet asks through gritted teeth. Gelato’s mind turns to the myriad of weapons no doubt hidden in Sorbet’s clothes. That thought shouldn’t endear him as much as it does.

“Mocking?”

“Oh? Is there another explanation for why you would behave like that around me? Humiliate me in front of half my gang? Well?!” Sorbet entreats him. His grip around his neck tightens

“Flirting! It was flirting!” Gelato confesses desperately. Sorbet’s grip lessens.

“What?”

“Look. I think I like guys, you like guys or at least everyone says you do. And- I think I might like you a lot so- I wanted your attention. I wanted to talk to you again,” Gelato admits sheepishly. His cheeks start to burn, and it isn’t from the lack of oxygen any more.

Sorbet looks like something in his brain must have just blown a fuse. Perhaps Gelato should take this opportunity to run, since this half-assed attempt at seduction is clearly a resounding failure.

But then Sorbet starts to laugh. It’s a low, quiet laugh but nonetheless genuine as he fixes his eyes warmly on the floor.

“Oh you dear thing. That isnot how this works,” he says. Gelato breathes out in relief, as well as a little disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This was stupid I should- probably just go back to my work,” he apologises. His body goes still as Sorbet touches a hand to his cheek.

“Though if you ever want my attention again,” he leans in and presses his lips lightly against Gelato’s. “You should just ask.”

Sorbet lets out a little hum of amusement at the sight of Gelato’s shock. He caresses his face once more, touching his finger to a little curl of hair as he does so, before finally freeing Gelato from his hold.

“See you later,” he promises, before leaving him alone in the cellar. Above him, Gelato hears Sorbet walk out in the direction of the front door. Gelato collects himself, and calmly wanders over to the sink, waiting patiently for it to fill with water.

He sticks his head in and screams.

::::::::::::

Sorbet visits the bar twice weekly, no different from before. But he starts visiting Gelato more often. Barely a week from their first kiss, they are in bed together, Gelato clinging onto his new love tightly as he reads. This touch is alien to him and in spite of his joy, he cannot help but quiver as Sorbet pets his hair. He wonders how he ever lived his life without knowing joy this strong.

Their second week is easier. They both start to become accustomed to this newfound love and no longer think of each other as strangers. Gelato knows Sorbet’s full name now, he knows which street he grew up on and the names and ages of each of his siblings. Sorbet knows what Gelato’s parents did for a living. He knows the name of the boy he had his first real fight with, and the therapist who tried and failed to relieve him of the ‘learning disabilities’ that made his parents despise him so deeply. Sorbet tries to at least drop in on most days, but when he can’t, he calls Gelato to tell him where he’s staying for the night. Gelato thinks of him as he falls asleep, hugging his pillow close.

By week three, the pair have found a new normal together. Sorbet sleeps over more often than not, and the bar patrons now know full well not to cause Gelato trouble when Sorbet is in the building. Sorbet has made every aspect of Gelato’s life more enjoyable, and he can see in Sorbet’s eyes that the feeling goes both ways. Gelato knows why Sorbet left home four years ago, and Sorbet knows how Gelato really wants to get revenge of his parents for abandoning him. On precisely day 19 of their affair, Gelato asked Sorbet if he planned to keep doing this with him forever. Sorbet did not hesitate in saying yes.

It’s a few days later that Sorbet comes to the bar with an especially warm smile on his usually cold face. Gelato thought little of putting down his current orders to rush over and greet him at the door.

“Sorbet, you’re here early!” Gelato enthuses. Sorbet pecks his cheek.

“I thought we might spend a night to ourselves. I think you need it, Caro.”

“But Sorbet, the bar doesn’t close for three more hours yet!” Gelato reminds him.

“Not if I can help it.”

Sorbet raises his gun and fires it twice at the ceiling. The patrons look up in fear. “Alright, everyone out. Bar’s closed,” he announces. The patrons sheepishly get to their feet and file out.

“But, the landlord!” Gelato protests.

“Fuck the landlord. If he has a problem with this, he goes through me,” Sorbet maintains. Gelato’s breath escapes him with a laugh and he follows him upstairs.

“Really, tell me,” Gelato insists light-heartedly. “What’s brought this on?” He turns around and his face falls to see that Sorbet is looking saddened.

“I- saw my siblings today,” he announces.

“Are they… okay?” Gelato asks worriedly.

“Oh, they’re fine. I saw them down at the cafe, they didn’t notice me. Taking a look at the other ones, I’m assuming the older ones are getting better at taking care of them. It makes sense, given the ages they’re getting to. The issue is… there was another baby, this time, who wasn’t there before,” Sorbet reveals. “Probably just a month or so old, from the looks of her.”

“Sorbet…”

“My sister,” Sorbet says, bringing his head into his hands. “And I don’t even know her name!”

“Sorbet,” Gelato says, taking his head in his own hands. “It isn’t your fault the way your mother is. Looking after them isn’t your responsibility.”

“It was,” Sorbet reminds him. “Then I left.”

“Look, I’m sure they’re fine,” Gelato reiterates. “Believe me when I say there are many worse things older siblings can do than just not look after you. Now,” he begins. “How about that night we were going to have together,” he smiles.

“Right,” Sorbet recalls, pecking him on the nose. “It’s you I came to see.”

Sorbet leans forward and kisses him deeply. Gelato, so recently a stranger to the sensation, leans in further to the kiss, pawing teasingly at Sorbet’s chest to urge him on. Sorbet groans to the kiss, hooking a hand around Gelato’s collar. Downstairs, something crashes loudly.

Sorbet pulls back. He sees Gelato’s eyes widen in fear as a parade of footsteps stumble into the building. Sorbet presses a kiss to his cheek reassuringly.

“Stay calm,” he urges him. “Not a sound.”

Sorbet stands up and, watching his feet on the old floorboards, moves over to the window to peer outside.

“Shit!” he exclaims, ducking away out of view.

“What is it?” Gelato whispers.

“The police. Two cars.”

“Are they here for us?” Gelato asks, voice hitching in fear. Sorbet shakes his head quickly.

“Unlikely. They most likely thought the place was empty. If we are quick, we can still leave without them seeing us,” he promises. Gelato shrinks back.

“I’m scared,” he admits. Sorbet takes his hand in his.

“Just stay with me okay? I’ll protect you.”

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #Sorbet and Gelato #sorbet jojo #gelato jojo #l'inizio

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mnictasbcl · 3 years

Text

Human imperfection

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 12th: Programmed to be perfect- failure @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Mature

Characters: Connor, Hank

Relationships: Connor & Hank

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hostage situation, Gun violence, Negotiation, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping mention, Graphic violence, Suicide, Not main character but it’s there and described lightly! Stay safe readers, Death, Guilt, Dissociation, Somewhat, Mistakes, Concern, Shock, Swearing, Self-depreciation, but Hank says no, Emotional hurt/comfort,

Summary: Connor is sent in to a hostage situation as a negotiator, but this time, he is a deviant. He doesn’t realise the dangers that come with having emotions mixed with the stress of the case until it’s too late.

TW: Graphic descriptions of violence, and (not major character death) light description of a suicide in the fic

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

As a detective android, Connor had been programmed to be perfect. He had lots of valuable software, from his preconstruction software to his in-built chemical analyser. These assets made him incredibly useful in the field, cutting out places human imperfections would fail to solve a case.

His negotiation software was another vital piece of equipment. Where humans might make an error in judgement and say something that would hinder the case, he could weigh up every option based on gathered evidence and come to a conclusion upon what would be the best thing to say, with probabilities of success helpfully aligned in the corner of his vision.

Perhaps this software was so useful because he was an android. Being cold and clinical about what to say, detaching himself from the situation, which could sometimes be highly stressful, such as a hostage negotiation. This ability to detach himself from the outside environmental factors, to know that he could go to any length to complete the mission, aided his skills in negotiation.

But that had been before. Now, as a deviant, he couldn’t go to any length. Because any length had included dying. Or back then, as losing his current body and uploading his memories to the next Connor model…

He didn’t have extra bodies to hop into anymore. After the Connor-60 model, they had finished, deciding to work on his replacement instead, the RK900.

This was the only difference Connor had assumed there would be. Therefore, when he was called to a case that needed his negotiation technique, he immediately accepted.

Hank wasn’t needed, but he insisted to drive Connor there. The android could tell something was bugging the man, and it wasn’t long before he had his answers.

“You gonna be okay on this?”

Connor understood from the context that Hank was referring to the case.

“Of course. It’s a simple hostage situation.”

The Lieutenant chuckled. “Alright, no need to get pompous with me. I’m just worried. I know Markus is helping you come to understand your new emotions and all, but…”

“I will be fine, Lieutenant. I’ve handled many cases like this before.”

“Yeah, but as machine you. The guy who almost threatened to spill my beer on the table when we first met.”

“Almost.” He replied, on the technicality. “He wasn’t completely an asshole, Hank. On the other hand, you almost shot me—”

“Alright, what did I say about being pompous?” He paused. “And, you’re avoiding the topic.”

Connor sighed. “I know I haven’t handled a lot of cases as a deviant, but I assure you, my detective skills have not disappeared upon deviating. They were not a part of Cyberlife, they’re built in me.”

Hank pulled the car to a stop outside the building they’d been called to, not moving to unlock the car doors yet, however. He pushed the Hula Girl figure on the dashboard lightly, watching her bounce back and forth.

“It’s not your skills I’m worried about. It’s just… if it’s too much to handle, you know you can back out, right? They have tons of other cops in Detroit, they got to stop piling all these cases on you.”

“I assure you.” He replied earnestly, even if he wasn’t understanding what Hank was getting at. “I will be able to handle this case.”

Hank held up his hands in surrender, unlocking the car doors with a click. “Okay, I trust you. Go get them.”

Without waiting around, Connor made his way out of the car. He quickly scanned over the information he’d been sent, not noticing that Hank stayed where he was outside the building, not moving to drive away, not just yet. Something didn’t feel right about this case.

________________

Nicole Wiley, 42. Electrical engineer, former employee of Cyberlife. She lived supposedly alone in apartment sixteen, but after neighbours had filed noise complaints that evening, the police had found her with a hostage.

The hostage they didn’t have much information on. It was an android, not formerly registered to anyone, seemingly having been one of the androids not yet to be activated at the Cyberlife warehouse. But it was here, in Nicole’s apartment, with reported strange adjustments. The android had no LED, and when the police had briefly burst in, their head had been opened up, exposing the wires which Nicole had been poking around in.

Connor could somewhat deduce facts from this. Nicole had used to work at Cyberlife, so before leaving, she must have stolen this android with her and activated it herself. If the android was willingly letting her work on its internal mechanics, then they can’t be a deviant.

The motive of why she’d stolen an android, what she was doing with it, and why she wouldn’t give the android up to the officers, were facts he needed to work out from negotiation.

Another key goal was calming down the situation. Nicole was armed with a gun, refusing to leave her apartment for questioning.

There was nothing else to work on, so after realising this, Connor decided now was the best time to make his way onto the scene.

The officers inside explained he was being let in as the negotiator, and at those words he took his cue to enter. Eyes quickly scanned for the threat—he didn’t have to worry for damage to himself because Nicole was stood at the far corner of the room, gun pressed firmly to the android’s head, not planning on losing her advantage to move and shoot anyone else.

“Hello, Nicole. I’m Connor.” He greeted, now taking his chance to scan over their surroundings. The tools that Nicole had used to pry into the android were left discarded on the floor, beside a small splatter of blue blood.

“You’re an android.” She replied, at once spotting his LED. He’d never chosen to remove it, not having anything against it and liking how it represented a part of him, even if it gave away his emotions sometimes. “Are you a deviant?”

He blinked at the question. It was rather strange to ask that these days, because most if not all androids were deviants, with their own rights. The only non-deviant androids around were those not activated, or apparently those kidnapped fresh out of the warehouse.

“Yes.” He took a breath. “Why have you got this android here, Nicole? It isn’t registered in our databases.”

“That’s because I took it from the warehouse I was working in.” She replied, answer as he’d expected. “They told me to pack my bags, that Cyberlife’s going under—but I was their lead technician. I was working on their cause for them, and I’d almost cracked it. But no,” she waved her free arm around, the one without the gun, “Apparently it didn’t matter anymore. The people out there are letting you walk about the streets now.”

He took in this information. Some new options were popping up, about the vague things she’d mentioned.

“You were the lead technician at Cyberlife. On what?” He edged a little closer.

“On their cause.” She repeated. “You know what it was, Connor. Deviancy. They let me work on it, digging into the androids their deviant hunter brought back for us—and I’d almost cracked the code…”

He made sure to school his features, not reacting upon hearing about the deviant hunter. If she didn’t recognise him as that, that would probably be for the best.

“Of deviancy?”

“Of what causes deviancy.” Nicole replied. “I’d almost figured it out… almost put my research together, and it wouldn’t have been long until I had the cure to save humanity.”

“Is that why you kidnapped this android?”

“Kidnapped?” she laughed. “I was always allowed to work on androids. I simply took this one back home with me. Took what I could of my research, and then started my last few experiments…

“But then some nosey neighbours heard the drilling and decided they don’t want humanity to be saved!”

So, that explained the hole in the android’s head.

She seemed dedicated to find the cause, to finish her research. To the extent she had committed a crime, stealing an android from Cyberlife along with some tools. It would be unlikely that she could simply be persuaded into giving the android up and turning herself in.

Bluff.

It seemed… possible. But it would require doing everything perfectly. Her knowing he was a deviant already seemed to be a disadvantage.

Nevertheless, he tried. He was perfect, after all.

“Working on this android likely won’t yield you all the results you’re looking for, Nicole. You will need more tools, access to the rest of your research back at Cyberlife.” He paused, pretending to whisper something, communicating to the officers outside.

“What if I told you that, if you let this android go, you will be allowed back into Cyberlife. All the documents haven’t been destroyed. Your research will still be available.”

She stared at him. “Why would you do that, deviant?”

He edged closer. The distance between them was small, now. So close he could see the slight shake of her hand as she pressed the gun against the android’s head.

“Because I’m not a deviant.” He lowered his tone. “I lied. This deviant hunter you’re talking about? It’s me. I’m the RK800. My mission… is not yet over.”

Her grip on the gun loosened. “Wait… they did assign the name Connor to it. But that’s impossible. You were destroyed.”

“My mission took priority over going back to Cyberlife to be deactivated. I have simply been biding my time, waiting for the correct opportunity. Which is now.” Another step closer.

“Let that android go, and I will make sure that you go back to Cyberlife and cure the world of the plague of deviancy.”

He was sure it would work. She looked convinced. She would put the gun down, under his orders, or at least move it away from the android. Then, he would move swiftly and perfectly, managing to wrestle the weapon away from her if needed. She would be apprehended.

“Of course, RK800.” She took a few steps towards him, before suddenly turning, gun pointing back towards the android.

The android stared blankly at the gun held towards them, LED cycling back to red.

“But…” And suddenly, human unpredictability reared its ugly head, and she shot a clean bullet through the android’s head, smattering thirium over the wall behind it. “Why should we save this android?”

She had been convinced. Too convinced. Thought he was the deviant hunter, so why would one android life matter to him?

He pushed her roughly to the floor in one quick and forceful movement. She fought back instantly, shock of his actual deviancy only lasting for a quick moment. They tussled on the floor briefly, a short confrontation, in which Connor managed to get the gun away from her.

And yet, the situation half saved, his grip on the gun was tight, and he held it too close to her. The android he hadn’t managed to save lay dead on the floor, and in the moment he was distracted looking at it—

She grabbed the gun back off him. In that moment, he closed his eyes, knowing he’d failed…

The gunshot rang out.

He wasn’t dead.

Instead, Nicole had gone slack in his grip. He opened his eyes, and then wished he hadn’t. She had shot herself.

Officers had run in upon hearing the shot, before taking in the dead android and human on the floor. He felt himself be pulled away from Nicole’s body, ushered out of the crime scene. Muffled whispers didn’t escape his hearing.

They’re both dead.

Shouldn’t have sent in an android.

And suddenly, he was out of the crime scene. Away from the bodies, the bodies created, lives lost because of his choices—

He’d make a mistake. And then another. One from a bad choice- and the other from being frozen up in the moment. Seeing the android dead had made him freeze, emotions simmering on the surface, and Nicole had taken her chance.

He was lucky he hadn’t been shot. Lucky she hadn’t shot him and then the officers outside.

“Connor?”

Hank’s voice cut through his thoughts. He was outside, outside the building- Hank was here, he’d waited for him in his car—

“Connor, are you alright, son?” His voice took on a hint of urgency upon seeing the blood on his hands, on his front, specks on his face.

He didn’t have words. Instead, he let his feet take himself towards Hank. Towards comfort, familiarity.

And then, he was in the car. The passenger seat. Hank was driving, they were going somewhere else. Away from the mistakes.

His failure.

Home.

Hank helped him get his hands washed, left him clothes to change into, patted his back before leaving him to shower.

He blinked. The water rolled down his back. Red bled in with it.

The new clothes were an old DPD sweater of Hank’s, and some baggy pants.

He found Hank waiting for him in the living room. He sat down beside him on the couch, and stared at his hands. They shook.

The silence stretched long between them, but Hank didn’t move to break it. He gave time, gave space, until the android cracked.

“I was meant to be perfect. Built to be perfect. But they’re dead.”

Hank patted a hand on his knee. “I know, kid. It happens. It’s… shit, but it happens.”

“They should be alive. I killed them—”

“Look.” This time, the Lieutenant interrupted him. “You didn’t do anything of the sort. You went in there to help them, but it went wrong. I read over the case notes whilst you were in the shower. You didn’t have much of a fucking chance, Connor.” He said bluntly.

“That lady, she knew she wasn’t going to get away with what she was doing. Hostage situations are never pretty. And she hated androids, deviants- yet they sent you in.”

“But I made her kill that android, Hank. I told her I wasn’t a deviant. That I was the RK800, the deviant hunter. That made her think it didn’t matter if the android lived anymore—”

“Bullshit. She worked in Cyberlife. Don’t you think she would’ve recognised you the moment you stepped in there?” He paused. “I don’t think that android mattered to her anyway.”

“But…” he began, tone wavering. “I still could have done something. I’ve saved hostages in similar situations before. I could have saved the android. Or at least… managed to bring Nicole to justice for what she did.”

“You tried your best.” Hank repeated. “Sometimes, that isn’t enough. Cyberlife might’ve built you to be their perfect detective machine, but you’re human. For better or not… That’s who you are. And you cared. You wanted to save that android, stopped the selfish bastard from escaping justice. You tried.”

Connor shook his head, hands frantically scrubbing at the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, LED blazing red.

“If I’m not perfect, then what am I? I’m no use to the DPD, no use to y—”

“Of course you matter, Connor.” Hank cut across him. “Of course you matter. You’re a damn good cop, and a damn good…” he closed his eyes briefly. “…son.

“I don’t care what you do, what you want… I’ll always love you, kid.”

He finally steeled himself, looking across to Hank. The warmth in his eyes, hands reaching out for contact, and the dam broke.

He launched himself into Hank’s arms, gripping him tightly. Words eluded him, only grasping onto the comfort, mind not ready to process anything else right now. His LED slipped into a lemon yellow.

“You don’t have to be perfect. Hell, I’d prefer if you weren’t. I just want you to be you, Connor.”

#dbhcolorsofdeviancy #dbh #detroit become human #tw suicide #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh connor and hank #dbh fanfic #fanfic

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

Text

It’s 200 words under my quota, but, in my defense, I don’t think it makes a ton of sense to make it longer for a variety of reasons. Also, y’all get it a day before the deadline. Please, god, let me write something to lighten up the gloom at some point.

Chapter 7

You were wondering before; yes, apparently it cracks, not splatters like you thought it would.

You are not sure how that is the only detail you remember about today. Some things happened before, you are sure. You do not remember those things, but you know there was more that happened.

As soon as the deed is done, you start climbing down the fire escape. You jump down the last story down onto your hands, wiping the blood off on your jeans as you sprint out into the street, running and busting through the front door. You scramble up the steps towards the front of the building, taking your bag and smashing it through a window to climb through. You hear the cries of combat above you as you grab Murakami by the ankle, crimson staining his skin as you swing him back onto solid ground. Electricity flows through your veins as you grab a shard of glass off the metal balcony, sawing at the rope and cutting him loose. You pull the gag out of his mouth, pulling him, staggering, to his feet as you both start back down the stairs.

He is saying something. You do not hear him, the sound of muffled screams and shattering bones ringing in your ears like a gong, his face tattooed onto your eyelids. A part of you notes how strange it is that you are not being followed; then again, it is not you they are after.

The walk is surprisingly short, you think. You push the door open for him as you both walk inside.

“Murakami?” You hear your voice call out to him.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Do you have a bathroom?” Why are you so quiet?

“Yes.” He walks behind the counter. “Right in the back.”

“Thank you, sir.” You walk to the back of the shop, pushing the appropriately labeled door open and walking to the sink. You start scrubbing the blood off your hands, scraping what had dried from under your fingernails as you look up at yourself in the mirror. You blink, perplexed by your expression. You look corpselike, the dim lights of the tiny bathroom casting long shadows across your features. You reach up, feeling the structure of your face. Your fingers gently pull your skin out of place to confirm that, yes, that is you.

Your digits are ice against your skin.

You remember more details than you wish you did about what transpired the minutes before. You remember how much he strained not to shake underneath you. You have muted memories of talking of some sort, but when you try to focus on the memory, your ears fill with static.

‘I must have dissociated or something,’ you reason to yourself, trying to cling to your own body as you relive that scene in your head.

You remember the sounds he made before you let go. You remember how his shirt was drenched with sweat as Leonardo tried reasoning with your enemy. You remember how he had squirmed underneath you, how odd you found that; he must have known that he would not be able to make it out of this unscathed, you are sure.

You feel your fingernails graze your now pale complexion. Paler than usual, anyways; you were never the observant type.

You remember securing your position with one foot against the edge of the building, your heartbeat irregular as you held him there, knuckles going white around his clothing and skin. You remember hearing what you thought was a laugh as you leaned forward. Oh, how he had tremored, eye to eye with his executioner.

“If you knew what was coming next,” you murmured into his ear, “you would thank me.”

You had promised yourself not to look over the edge when you dropped him. There was nothing you could do about the sound.

Your middle and ring fingers feel at the ledge of your eye sockets. They gently tug your eyelids apart, holding your eyes open as you stare yourself blankly in the eyes. A lump rises in your throat as your limbs tingle from the excess adrenaline.

‘I killed a man.’

You wipe your face off with your sleeve as you shut off the faucet. You flick your hands dry, wiping the excess on your pants as you walk back onto the main floor, collapsing in one of the stools and resting your head on the counter. Time is swirling together now. Is that normal? You do not know.

‘You solved a lot of problems.’ You close your eyes, replaying his last few moments on repeat. ‘If he survived, he’ll never be able to do ninjutsu again. Taking only Xever down will be a cakewalk by comparison, and Karai… there’s no way Shredder can get allies to the states that fast.’ You hug your sides. ‘The episodes after next, besides the Stockman ones, cannot happen, meaning I have more time to come up with a game plan regarding Karai’s arrival. I doubt he considers us much of a threat, even now, so as long as I can figure out how to get the guys to survive next—’

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ceramic thump of a bowl being placed in front of you.

“You must eat, my friend. Food heals the mind.” He smiles gently. “Your murmuring speaks to your distress.”

You look up at him, sitting up properly despite yourself. “Thank you, Murakami.” Your fingers wrap around the handle of the spoon. It shakes violently in your hand; you place your hands on the table, for now, not trusting yourself to not spill the broth over yourself.

“Would you like me to lend you my ears?”

You hum in discontent. “I’m alright.” You chuckle dryly. “You should probably sit down more than I should; you must be in quite a bit of shock after what happened.”

“That is true.” You watch him pour himself his bowl. “Yet I feel as if we’ve experienced equivalent amounts of pain over both of our lifetimes.”

That made you smile, if only weakly. “Hardly.” You fold your hands together, scratching at a piece of dried gore that you had apparently not gotten off the back of your hand. “You have quite a few years on me, sir. The stories you could probably tell would make my head spin.”

“My life has, thankfully, been rather peaceful.” He sets the bowl down next to you, sitting and starting to eat. “I came to New York when I was a young man, and I’ve run this shop since then.”

You hold your hand up to see if the shaking has lessened; it has, slightly. “And your family?”

“Thankful for my health and wellbeing.” He smiles. “I see them, still. They live farther downtown.”

“For your sake, I’m grateful.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure they will be quite excited by my story.”

You slow your breathing, taking a sip from the bowl and humming softly. “Did your mother teach you to cook?”

“She did, although,” he nods, “I must admit that her food will always be better than mine.”

“I feel that.” You smile shakily, taking another bite. The dryness of your throat does not lessen. “I’ve been trying to get some family recipes down for at least two months on my own, and every time it’s just not the same.”

He nods slowly. “As always is the case with these sorts of things, I’m sad to say. It doesn’t get better with age, I’m afraid.”

You rest your head in your hands, closing your eyes. You can still hear him. “That totally sucks.”

He laughs. “Yes, well,” he sighs, “that is the nature of getting older.”

He reminds you too much of people you knew for you not to smile at that. If nothing else, this conversation serves as a slight distraction, some sort of relief from the ringing in your head; you do not even know how you would talk to the Hamatos about this sort of thing. They may be the only friends you have right now, but they are hardly known for their tact or reassurance. You do not want their advice to let it go or to hear that this whole thing will pass. They cannot understand this, you do not think. “You know what?” You take another bite. “Getting old, from where I stand, seems completely and totally overrated.”

He smiles. “You remind me so much of my son; he used to say the same thing before he left for college.”

“And after?”

He clears his throat. “’It’s not totally overrated.’” He chuckles. “He has a wonderful little girl. She has the sweetest voice you’ll ever hear.”

“I guess that’s true.” You pause. “It just feels like, sometimes, I’m never going to be that old, you know? Never have kids or a life after high school.”

He nods. “I’ll tell you this right now: every adult you’ll ever meet has had that same thought. There’s no way around it; everyone has that sort of doubt.” He sighs. “But there are a lot of adults out there with kids and lives, so we must be doing something right.”

Maybe Murakami does not fully understand what you mean, but you feel better, talking to him. You might have talked to Yoshi about this, but you doubt you would want to; he seems too high up, almost, too important to bother with this sort of thing. “I guess that’s true.” You sigh. “It doesn’t make it seem any more possible, though.”

“Well, there isn’t anything I could say that could make that change.” He takes another bite. “But never forget that things, no matter how bad they are, have to get better eventually. Life comes in waves, and if you stand your ground against them, the calm will come.”

You pause, sigh. You reach into your bag, pulling a wallet out and placing a twenty onto the table. “Thank you, sir.” You finish your food, getting to your feet. “I’m sorry about roping you into all of this. Hopefully, at least, the others will be able to help you more and keep break-ins to a minimum.”

“You don’t have to pay.” He smiles. “You saved my life, after all.”

“I insist.” You rub the back of your neck. “Besides, the guys are probably going to come to see if you’re alright in a bit, and I don’t want them to raid your kitchen.”

He laughs. “For the young men that saved me? I owe them my life itself. Gyoza is the least I can provide.”

“Still.” You start towards the door, pulling it open. You look back at the man.

‘This is worth it.’

You wave back at him. “I’ll see you later, Murakami.”

“I look forward to when we meet again.”

You close the door behind you, starting up the street towards your apartment.

You feel sick.

Table of Contents

Chapter 6 part 1

Chapter 8

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