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#{however it did still take an 'incident' to really break the dams}
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Something Small (Part 5)
Except it’s 11:12 PM and I’ve given myself permission to go nuts and elaborate on the “incident w/ Clown” that I mentioned in like, my second ask/part 2. Anyways, let’s start before I end up leaving this ask in the back of my mind. Again.
So there’s this ‘little’ thing with hybrid in which their own instincts can somewhat cause other hybrids (especially those of the same type) to have their own instincts come to the front, if that makes sense. To give an example, if two Avians hybrids are preening one another; while the other is completely out of it and riding an instinctual wave(from being preened), the other might be making more vocal “bird noises” and more (to a lot) more inclined to participating in hybrid behaviors like nesting and such. If say the other avian, for whatever reason, didn’t want to let the other into their nest, it wouldn’t be unsurprising -nor uncalled for- the other avian to make a nest next or nearby to the other avian. Though, like most things in life, the amount hybrids will be affected by things such as their instinct and this ‘instinct’ ride is very much varied. Some people within the MC universe should take well with a lesson of it.
Now just pair a Vulture hybrid who tends to get widely overwhelmed by their hybrid instincts and a shapeshifter who is easily affected by others instincts, and you’ll have yourself a ClownPierce and a Branzy.
Something that Branzy did learn after accepting the “oh I’m a shapeshifter” thing is that while they very much struggle to shift on command, they do shift to match a hybrid type when someone is having a day/moment where their hybrid instincts are either more prevalent or more in control. They actually “cheat” the system so to speak, when they want to transform back into a shark hybrid, they’ll go spend time with Midmysticx because normally her instincts will flair up when hanging around other people. Either way, Branzy is a whitetip reef shark and Mid’s a blacktip reef shark, I am not taking questions at this time (/j). Back on track though.
Now something that Clown pretty much kept under lock and key was the fact that it is a Cinereous Vulture hybrid. Parrot knew because Parrot had to as server admin, and whoever was acting doctor on the server would know if a situation ever would arise for them to need to know, however no one knew. Minus one other person of course, who is the reason why Clown hid its wings for as long as it did. That person, is Vort3xDragon (and I’m apologizing now if this is ooc! I have only watched maybe 1 of his videos. But my brain picked Vortex for this and is not letting go.)
Now preening for some Avian hybrids can be seen as a way to bond, being used as way to either build or mend a relationship. There still has to be some trust involved, but seeing as not every Avian hybrid is going to have access to their flock 24/7, some will use the opportunity to try and build a closer friendship with people by giving them the chance to preen their wings. It’s basic self-care and showing people you trust them, win-win right? That aside, when Clown came to Parrot asking if either he or someone he recommended could preen them (as they weren’t fully ready to let MOB do it), Parrot kinda jumped at the opportunity. Clown and Vortex, while friends, were constantly bickering and bantering with each other to the point of “this doesn’t seem all that friendly anymore” and was kinda edging on the point of arguments, so Parrot suggested it and Clown tentatively agreed to letting Vortex preen him.
The inter moment started rocky as well, with the atmosphere being tense af. Clown was very much riding a stress and anxiety high and wasn’t really responding well to any of Vortex’s attempts to break the tension and it only got worse when the preening actually started. See, Vortex (being at the time human) never got the memo on “not every hybrid reacts the same way to things as those of the same hybrid type/species would” and made a pretty damn big mistake. See while Parrot would just lie down content while being preened and chirp an coo on occasion an just take everything in, Clown gets overwhelmed by its instincts and emotions very quickly when being preened. And that tends to lead to Clown crying, hard.
(Parrot would much much later, after learning about what happened, theorize that it had something to do with the fact that Clowns wings normally are just more sensitive than most Avian Hybrids and that being paired with its anxiety/stress from everything and the fact it was it’s first time being preened from somebody outside it’s flock and they didn’t trust Vortex as much as they thought they did, made their instincts and emotions go a lot more haywire than normal. Clown’s flock says “it normally cries while being preened, and that’s okay! Fuck you if you say otherwise!”)
Now Vortex, not even halfway through Clown’s first wing yet and realizing that Clown is very crying, makes just about the worse decision he could’ve. No matter how light teases were originally meant to be, they still came out with overwhelmingly harshness and kept coming for much too long. Clown pretty much ended up shutting down for the remainder of the preening session and only moved from where they were on the floor awhile after Vortex left to curl up in their nest.
(Vortex would very much be kicking himself later on for not catching onto the fact he fucked up immediately while the session was happening. The signs were there, Clown very much wasn’t making noise anymore. Not to mention there was times it was like it’s wing would flinch or try to pull away from his hands as he was working through. He ended up apologizing multiple times to Clown, though Clown is still trying to work it out in their head whether or not they 100% forgive him or not. The inter situation was somewhat traumatizing for them and it’s a lot to process even still.)
After the session, Clown was pretty much convinced that it’s wings (and by extension, it’s hybridness) was a weakness and would only lead to it getting hurt and it overall being seen as weak because (it’s a shitshow, and I can’t figure out how to word it, but crying and macho toxic masculinity ideals is involved here. Clown was viewing emotions like crying as a weakness to a big extent) It constantly kept its wings bound underneath its clothing and didn’t tell anyone about the wings after that. It also didn’t fucking preen themselves! Like at all! It was so worried about the extremely off chance of someone finding it’s base and that even letting themselves process certain emotions and letting itself cry was a bad thing! Needless to say, it’s mental health was a shitshow throughout seasons 2 and 3 because of it. If Branzy hadn’t accidentally have managed to find out about it’s wings, it probably wouldn’t have told them despite them being in a serious relationship and Clown considering Branzy apart of its flock by that point.
Needless to say, Branzy was quick to gently (but serious and firmly) get onto Clown’s case about it and Clown ended up letting Branzy preen them. It was still a very overwhelming experience overall for Clown and still lead to them breaking down very bad during the process. Except this time an overall positive experience and lead to Clown’s hybrid instinct addled brain very much happily cuddling Branzy after it all (and unknowingly) preening Branzy back after Branzy finished its wings. Branzy ended up learning the hard way that Clown tends to head butt while being preened, and that you should either have it take its mask off or wear a fabric one if your preening them.
Either way, Clown was very fucking confused to wake up the morning after being preened to find it’s Shark Boyfriend very much no longer a shark and very much a bird like itself.
Also, something fucking stupid but I’m refusing to not mention it, Ivory and Rasplin were Clowns only flock before LifeSteal and they pretty much had a system down when it came to Clown’s preening time. One of them would lay down with clown, holding them up for the person who would actually be going through the feathers. Rasplin was normally held up Clown because Ivory had an easier time getting stuff (like gravel) out of Clown’s wings without accidentally yanking or bumping into clowns overly sensitive feathers though.
Either way, it’s uh 3:23 AM. My phone has gone from 97% to 49%. And my face hurts. I am sorry if there’s any typos or such cuz I think I’m going to cry if I keep going for much longer. Which also, sorry for essentially kinda just dumping a hysterically long ask in your ask box again,,, uh anyway, have a nice night/morning??
That’s it, that’s the ask!!
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cursefelled · 3 years
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when do you get your soft, italicized, "oh."
THE UNRELATED MOMENT
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You tend to be more preoccupied with practical things, to the point you’ve been blinded to matters of the heart. Sure, you’re close with this person; you like being close with people. It is rewarding to know and be known in return. You leave realisation no choice but to sneak up on you. They’re not even in the room when it happens. Someone or something else spells it out for you, an observant friend’s passing comment or a particular sentence you were reading in a book, and suddenly it hits you, what it all means. The person your feelings have been building themselves around. Oh. It’s them. It’s time. It’s them and you, here and now, and you have to decide what to do at the crossroads. Luckily, you’re practically minded.
Tagged by: @lovesake​  💖 💖 💖
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sixeyesgojo · 3 years
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kiss it better
Summary: You had a shitty day at the store. Gojo is here to comfort you <3
Characters: Gojo x Reader
Word count: 1100
A/N: The past few weeks have been super rough - personal matters and on top of that, natural disasters + "I could lose my closest friends thanks to this" type of rough - so I wrote this pretty self-indulgently because I seriously need to be comforted lol. But that doesn't mean you can't imagine yourself in it!! The fanart is fem reader but I don't think I indicated any gender in the fic. Shoutout to the folks who work with customers, you guys are doing an amazing job! Thank you.
This entire fic was inspired by the art by the amazing @yuusagi-chii that I commissioned; check out her blog and leave a reblog on her artworks!! ♥ - posted with permission from the artist
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There had been nothing to do. The whole time, Satoru was just lazing on the couch, legs stretched out on the entire thing, and waiting for you to come home as the television showed nothing but garbage.
As soon as they perceived the sound of your dangling keys in front of the door, Satoru’s ears perked up. He had been so bored all day, not knowing what to do on his free day; he was used to being busy all day, every day, around the clock. The lethargy got to the extent where he cleaned every nook and cranny in your shared home, did all the laundry for the week, reorganized the cupboard where his treasures were stored and even took a nap. Originally, he had planned to kidnap you to go on a date with him but unfortunately, your workplace said otherwise, wrecking his not-so-planned-out plan. Admittedly, it did piss him off a little but there was nothing to be done. Satoru just missed you incredibly much since he was usually gone for most days.
Your heavy footsteps that came from the entrance hall, the way your keys seemed to make louder noise than usual and the soft sigh he could hear all indicated that you had a shitty day so far. It really wasn’t rocket science for Satoru to notice little things about you. Probably entitled customers again, he thought. Satoru was well aware that working in a customer-oriented branch had to be unrewarding, draining even. Still, he wanted to tantalize you a bit, to lighten the mood and ease his boredom a little – he would do that on normal days.
However, ‘normal’ was quickly discarded when he saw your face: a hefty scowl and… were those teary eyes? His previous demeanor immediately dropped and a serious one took over. This was definitely not okay.
Satoru had noticed the last few weeks had been a little rough on you. On normal days, teasing you was his favorite thing to do and quite frankly, it was enjoyable to you as well as it lifted your mood after a stressful shift… but today must have been the tipping point and he knew better than to tease you in times like these. The last thing he wanted to be was the cause of your tears.
“Had a rough day?” Satoru asked as he met you in the hallway, wasting no time to slip his arms around your body. Crushing into his chest, you simply nodded without looking at him. You feared that if you did, tears would fall and you would no longer be in control of your emotions. The entire time you spent at work had been filled with some particularly grumpy customers you had to tend to. You had to deal with utterly disrespectful behavior towards you. Yet, you had to stay friendly and polite when, throughout the day, there had been several instances that made you want to quit your job right then and there.
Today had been terrible, so being in the amenity of your home felt uncommonly relieving. In addition to that, being in the comforting space of Satoru’s gentle hug washed off your exhaustion. It was fine to bask in the solace of his embrace for a moment, wasn’t it? Was it okay for you to give in a little and enjoy the moment for all its worth?
“Do you want to talk about it?” “Just the usual trouble but way worse for some reason,” you mumbled into his chest, just loud enough for him to hear. “Tell me about it, baby. It’s better if you get it off of your chest as soon as possible.”
You breathed out, the emotional dam you’ve built today finally breaking, “It’s just… people suck… They s-snap at me for the smallest things… and I know some of those incidents are just part of the job – I really get it a-and I try so hard to stay polite but… it’s just… very hard.”
Throughout your ramblings – how a customer had yelled at you for a minor mistake, how another one treated you like something lesser because of something that was not your mistake, how people would insist on being right and more – he listened intently to each and every word… All the while, Satoru had gently stroked your back with his palm to calm you down. “Say, Toru…there must be something wrong with me for them… to treat me like this, isn’t there?” you finally asked. “No, honey. You are perfectly fine,” he said, suppressing how pissed he actually was at the people who dared treating you badly. “Their attitude just sucks and they don’t deserve being served by someone beautiful like you. Maybe I should give them a piece of my mind some day…” “I just— I don’t even know. People are so mean… and for w-what? Is kindness in this world really that hard to find?” you lamented, choking back a sob as you buried your face deeper into him.
“Can I help you feel better in any way? Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” Satoru asked sweetly but the frown on his face made his worry very evident. He didn’t like it at all whenever you came back emotionally drained like this. All Satoru wanted to do was to go and ‘teach them a well-deserved lesson’ but he knew well that it would be against your wishes, so he had no choice but to sit back and be there for you when you needed him the most.
“Let me pamper and spoil my angel for today, hm?” he whispered affectionately, pressing kisses to the top of your head. Finally, you raised your head to look at him. The teary stains on your cheeks and sad expression broke his heart and he swore you could hear it cracking in his ribcage. “I just want you to hold me right now, wanna feel you close to me and nothing more,” you admitted and slung your arms around him tightly.
Promptly taking the chance, Satoru placed a sweet and loving kiss on your forehead. The sensation of his lips on your skin eased a big part of your discomfort away, making you sigh in comfort for the first time in what felt like decades. The effect this man had on you was inexplicable; the way he had the power to make you feel better by simply being there was truly magical. It made your heart flutter in a thousand ways and more.
“Then I’ll have no choice but to kiss it better.”
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Taglist (open): @satosuguslut @assbuttbaek @melonnbar @delammi @silversatoru @princesatoru
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ikleesfiction · 3 years
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Will you follow through if I fall for you?
Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 3,085 words Disclaimer
Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4 🞂 Part 5 🞂 Part 6 🞂 Part 7 🞂 Part 8
Part 9
Today is the day before your departure. You are still standing on the edge between leaving without saying goodbye to Jay or forgetting your responsibility in Amsterdam and just stay in Chicago. You know this is your fault. Keep delaying the talk, uselessly wishing for some miracles, when time is never a promise to anyone.
Your phone chirps for a text from Antonio, The case is done.
Antonio has become your confidant these past days. He knew your situation after you drunkenly told him at Molly's one night. Of course, he thought you're at fault, but at least now he tries to help.
You immediately text Jay. Hey, you're back? You okay?
Jay replies by calling you. "Hey, love"
"Hi, Jay," you are relieved to hear his voice, unaware of your eyes that start to wet. "Are you okay?"
"Yep. No scratches and bruises. Perfectly well." Jay answers easily.
"Yeah, you are perfect indeed," you clumsily flirt as you wipe your eyes. Jay cracks an infectious laugh that you quickly follow.
"God, you don't know how much I miss hearing your laugh," Jay says after.
"Hmm, you might be right. But I know how much I miss you," you retort with a smile.
"You are such a sap," Jay groans.
"Good thing I'm a songwriter and not a detective, right?" you quip cheekily.
Jay chuckles in response. There's some chatter in his background. "Babe, I gotta go. My paperwork won't finish itself. I'll see you at your place tonight?"
Tonight is actually your farewell party at Molly's. For a second, you think of bailing the party and just agreeing on Jay's idea. But you cannot really do that to the 51 family.
"Err... 51 is doing something at Molly's tonight. I promised them I'll come. Can you meet me there?" you say instead.
"No problems. See you later. I love you", Jay cheers, suspecting nothing. "I love you too." you return as he ends the call.
◢◤
Jay opens Molly's door and finds you in the middle of the 51 gang, sharing laughs and hugs or pats in the back. He's not sure what's happening there, but when you see him, the laughter ceased. The crowd breaks up as you slowly walk towards Jay.
Jay smilingly opens his arms, then you hug him tightly. "Hey, babe," He pulls back to kiss your lips. You close your eyes, trying to savor this moment. "I miss you,' Jay says. You give him an unsure smile.
Jay puts his arms on your shoulder to guide you back to the bar. That's when he notices a banner hanging on display, "Farewell Come back soon, Y/N!!"
"Are you going somewhere?" Jay tilts his head at you confusedly.
You step aside to face him, "Jay, we need to talk," you solemnly say, before leading him outside Molly's.
"Okay, I got a feeling I'm not going to enjoy this talk," Jay feels baffled and kinda scared too.
You stand in the cold weather of Chicago, only in your henley and jeans. You put both of your hands to your chest, trying to warm yourself a bit. Your fingers nervously play with your necklace, considering what to say.
Jay cannot stand your silence any longer, "Are you gonna start talking soon?"
You put your hands down and look into his eyes, "I'm going back to Amsterdam tomorrow night."
"Okay. When are you coming back?" Jay frowns dubiously.
"I mean, I'm returning back home, Jay. I'm leaving Chicago", you try to clarify.
"What? What do you mean you're leaving Chicago?" He snaps in fright.
You look down for a moment and inhale deeply, "After the incident, I have to stay in Chicago for three months to do the treatment for my legs. I got no choice but to stay here. Alone, by myself. I was counting the day until I can get out of this city. I hated it here, since my family, my friends, my job are not here."
Jay startles at your explanation. You continue before he says anything. "But then you showed up. Suddenly I wish I had more time to stay in Chicago. I clung to any reason to stay. But now I ran out of reason." Your eyes are begging for his understanding.
Jay, however, explodes. "What?? Am I not a good enough reason for you to stay, Y/N?? Isn't our relationship good enough??" He signs between the two of you. Jay can see your eyes start to water. You bite your lips, trying to hold down your sobs. "And why are you just telling me now?! Am I meant so little to you?" He confronts you further.
"No! You are.. more than.. everything", you try to touch Jay's shoulder, but he jerks away from your hand. You disappointedly look down, "I was going to tell you before. But each time, it gets harder. I was afraid," you murmur.
"Afraid of what?!" Jay yells.
"I was afraid that you're gonna left me," you confess softly.
Jay scoffs, "So I guess it's okay if you're the one who left, right??"
Tears start to fall down on your cheek, but you keep swallowing your cries. "I'm sorry that I was, unequivocally, selfish." you truthfully admit. That's the real reason, the biggest mistake you made. You know it from the start.
Jay looks away from you, "What do you expect for me to do now, Y/N? What do you expect from us?"
"I thought there were several ways this would go. I just don't know which one you will take," you meekly answer.
"Oh, now you're asking me to choose? Why didn't you let me know that I got options before? Before we start sleeping together? Before I fall in love with you?" Jay gestures wildly with his arms.
"I'm sorry," you don't know anything else to say.
Jay feels suffocated. He is angry, upset, and he feels like punching something. He definitely doesn't want to be near you now.
"I hope you're happy with your life in Amsterdam." Jay finally says to you. His wish sounds so hollow. Then he leaves you there, standing outside Molly's by yourself.
◢◤
Kelly keeps his eyes on you since you walk outside Molly's with Jay. He watches as Jay gets more agitated. Kelly starts to move closer to the door in case intervention is needed. When Jay left, Kelly waits until you come back in. You, however, just stand there, not moving, looking in the direction where Jay walked away. He comes out and slowly approaches you. "Y/N?" Kelly calls your name hesitantly.
You cannot hold it any longer. Your dam broke. You sob hard, almost crumble to the ground if Kelly isn't there to catch you. You cry hysterically on Kelly's chest. "I got you, sis, I got you." Kelly rubs his hand on your arm, trying to slightly comfort you. Few minutes have gone, you don't look even remotely calm down. He can see that both of you start to catch people's attention on the street. Kelly thought that he should take you home now. Matt seems to agree since he comes out with your purse and coat. "Let's get you home."
Kelly, with Matt's help, gets you in his car slowly. You lay your head to the side window as Kelly drives down the road. You are thinking about how mad Jay with you right now. How you totally deserve his anger. How disappointed the Intelligence Unit would be at you. How Will would probably hate you forever. Your chest aches with all the guilts.
When Kelly arrives at your building, he finds that you fell asleep. All that crying must've exhausted you. Kelly carries you up to your apartment, slightly grateful that he's a firefighter. It certainly made this a bit easier. Once he reaches your bedroom, he puts you down on your bed, pulls off your shoes, and covers you down with the duvet. You're still hiccuping in your sleep. Kelly tries to find aspirin on your bathroom cabinet. Most of your things were already packed. So it's quite lucky that Kelly could find some left. He sets a glass of water and the aspirin on the bedside table and turns the lamp off. Kelly leaves the door slightly open and goes lay down on your couch, trying to sleep.
◢◤
Jay drives aimlessly in his car. He's not sure where to go, doesn't know what to do. Jay only knows that he is angry. He cannot believe that you're leaving him. And telling him on the eve of your departure?? He never thought you'd be so cruel. He thought you loved him. He thought he has a future with you. Maybe he was thinking too far ahead, but he already fell hard.
Jay cannot think straight. He is a bit worried that he will do something stupid. So he calls Will and is relieved when Will picks up on a second ring. "Where are you?" Jay harshly asks without any greeting.
Will, who is clueless about the situation, answers annoyingly, "Well, hello to you too, brother. I'm doing fine, thanks for asking,"
"Where are you, Will?" Jay repeats the question firmly.
Will finally understands this isn't a social call. "At home. Are you okay, Jay?"
Jay couldn't come to Will's place in his current state. He would've woken up Owen. "Could you meet me at my place?" Jay pleads to his brother.
Hearing the helpless tone in there, Will only has one answer to it, "I'll be there soon."
When Will gets to his brother's place, he tries the door and finds it unlocked. It raises his suspicion. "Jay?" he calls out into the apartment.
Will finds Jay sitting on the couch, holding a glass in hand. A bottle of whiskey is on the table. Will is quite convinced that the bottle has never been opened before, but now it's half empty. Jay sniffs and then brokenly says to Will, "Y/N left me."
Will obviously is shocked, "What? Why?"
"Apparently, she wasn't planning to stay in the first place. Soon as she could, she left! Back home! To fucking Amsterdam!" Jay starts to shout. "She knew she's going to leave. But she never said anything. I've totally been played", Jay says somberly to his glass.
Will tries to understand the situation, but he cannot make sense of it, "She probably didn't mean that. Maybe something happened there that required her to go?"
"Said she hated the city.", Jay recalls the conversation.
"What??" Will's not sure to believe his hearing right now.
"Said I'm not good enough reason for her to stay. Why, Will?? Why did everybody leave me?? What should I do so they could keep loving me??" Jay yells exasperatedly. "I love her, Will! Said she loved me too, but she left? Did she lie to me??" Jay ragingly throws his glass to the wall.
Will just sits beside his brother, not sure if he can say anything to comfort him. He watches his brother emptying the bottle until Jay's passed out on the couch.
◢◤
You wake up in the middle of the night. Your head is pounding as you tried to remember what happened. When you do, suddenly your chest is tightened, it's hard to breathe. You try to grab your phone. You feel like calling Jay and beg for his forgiveness. But your hand is shaking so hard, your phone falls out of your hand.
The noises wake Kelly up. He quickly steps into your room and sees you breathe erratically. He puts his hand on your shoulder and tells you to take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out. Few rounds of guided breath, you start to get calmer. Kelly then sees your phone on the floor with Jay's contact on display. You look at Kelly, "What have I done, Kel? I let Jay walked out of my life. I let my love walked away. I cannot do anything about it".
Kelly thought that you could just stay here. That you have lots of people here who love you as much. That Chicago could be your home too. But he doesn't say anything. You need to understand this by yourself. Telling this now would only rattle you further. Kelly just puts his arm around your shoulder and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.
When morning comes, you and Kelly sit on the kitchen island with coffee mugs in hand. "I could ask Chief Boden for an hour break to take you to the airport." Kelly offers.
"Nah. The Squad needs you more," you reject it. "I already booked a cab anyway." You stand up to refill your mug.
Kelly puts his cup on the sink. "I gotta go so I could be on time for my shift," He gives you a long hug and a brotherly kiss on top of your head. "You're gonna be okay. You can call me anytime you want. When you feel better, you have to come to visit again." You just silently nod your agreement.
◢◤
Jay wakes up on the couch. He sees the empty bottle of whiskey on the table. By the persistent hammers on his head, Jay knows that he is the only one who drank it. He gets up from the couch to move into his bed, but then he finds Will is sleeping on it. Jay is certain that his brother will ask a lot of questions that he's not ready to answer yet. So Jay decides to go to work early before Will wakes up.
Jay is the first one to arrive at the 21st District. He boots up his computer and opens up cold cases. Trying to find anything to distract him from thinking about his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, he corrects himself bitterly. One by one, his colleagues arrive. They're all surprised to see him working on his desk this early, except for Antonio, who has a better idea of what's happening. Adam is the first one to let Jay know of their confusion. "Well, look at you, Detective Halstead. Working hard this early morning. What are you working on anyway? I don't know that we already have a case."
Jay doesn't give him any response. Adam looks at Jay's desk, trying to figure it out. "Cold cases? Hmmm, interesting. Did your girlfriend kick you out of bed? That's why you came to work early, Halstead?" Adam jokes. Jay stands up from his chair quickly and pushes Adam to the nearest wall, his arm presses on Adam's neck. Around them, everybody yells and tries to break it off. Jay still says nothing and keeps pushing Adam. It takes Antonio, Kevin, and Hailey to pull Jay away from Adam while Kim helps Adam stand up.
"Walk it off, Halstead," Antonio orders Jay. Jay still gives Adam a murderous look. "Go. Walk it off. Before Voight hears about this," Antonio tells Jay again.
"Voight hears about what?" Suddenly they find their Team Leader comes in. Nobody moves or says anything. Voight assesses the situation. He sees the stiffness in Jay's body language and bewilderment on Adam's face. "Are you going to be able to work today, Halstead?" Voight asks Jay.
"Absolutely, Sarge," Jay answers boldly.
"If you're not, you better step out for the day. I don't need to clean up your mess too," Voight tries to give Jay an out.
"I won't make any mess," Jay promises him. Voight gives Jay a long look, "Alright, let's get to work."
They're working on a case of illegal arms dealing. Atwater finds out that some parts of the guns are stashed at an abandoned warehouse. When the team checks out the place, a few people try to flee from the warehouse. The team takes them down quickly, but one got away. "We got a runner. Heading northwest," Adam calls on his radio. Realizing that he is the closest, Jay runs to catch the guy. Soon Jay finds the perp trying to climb on a fence.
"Police! Freeze!" Jay shouts and points his gun at the perp, but the guy just keeps on climbing. Jay pulls him down hard. When the perp is on the ground, he tries to throw a punch at Jay. They then get into a tussle. Once Jay gets the upper hand, he beats the guy down. He keeps hitting until Antonio grabs Jay's shoulders and drags him away from the perp. "Enough, Halstead! You're going to kill him". Jay suddenly comes to awareness. He sits down on the ground with his bloody knuckles. Jay's not even sure if it is his own blood or the perp. He just feels numb.
Voight comes to his line of view. "You're gonna take the rest of the week off. Set your head straight."
"No, Sarge. I'm fine!" Jay insists.
"You said you won't make any mess, but here we are," Voight says, gesturing to the almost unconscious perp to make his point. "Go. I don't wanna see you again until next Monday." He dismisses Jay.
Jay looks down on the ground until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Antonio crouches down in front of him. "I don't know if this is the right way, but rather than beating people up, let's just spar. You name the time and place, I'll be there."
Jay nods at his offer, "I might take you up on that."
"Good. I expect you too," replies Antonio before he left in Voight's direction.
Jay goes home to sleep off his broken heart. When he wakes up, he texts Antonio, asks him to spar after he finishes work. Antonio replies with his confirmation immediately.
They spar at the gym for about two hours. Jay feels a bit better after that. On his way out, Antonio claps his hand on Jay's shoulder. "You doing well, man?"
"Yeah, I guess I need that. Thanks for your help," Jay returns earnestly.
"Anytime you want to get punch, just give me a call," Antonio smirks back as he leaves the gym.
Jay checks his phone before he drives home. He sees that he got one missed call and one voicemail. Jay halts when he sees your name on the phone. His thumb hovers on the delete button before he decides to listen to your message. "Hey, Jay. I..", he hears a long pause on the other end. Jay even checks if the message is ended or else. But then he hears you continue, "Thank you for allowing me to be in your life these past few months. I love you."
Next on this fic : Part 10
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mhafiction · 4 years
Text
Req from @annonymousbread:
Here is an actual request if you’re okay with it ☺️
Maybe a story where katsu’s crush from class 1-A gets kidnapped and they don’t find her for over a year. Which by then class 1-A has graduated and all become pro hero’s.
Then Katsuki finally finds her on one of his missions?
Note: This is really becoming a Bakugo fanfic blog huh? I’m not complaining, he’s a very fun boy. -K.
“Bakugo!”
He remembered it. Your sobbing, the fear in your voice, your cries of pain. He saw the rubble, the overcast sky, every little thing rendered with terrifying accuracy. He looked down at his hands. Why was he back here? An uneasy feeling reveled in the pit of his stomach. You cry out again, your shouts solitary and panicked. Lighting courses through his veins, and without an ounce of hesitation, he takes off running. He had to find you.
His lungs burn as he navigates the field, his heart pounding in his head, eyes darting back and forth with frenzied panic as he scans the ruins. Y/N, where are you? The rubble morphs into a terrifying maze, and he feels a cold sweat drip down his back. Bakugo hears you call out his name again and again, and fears the worst, turning around-
There you were, standing in front of him with that faraway look in your eyes. Your eyes... those goddamn eyes haunted him ever since. He reached out to you, tried to call you name-
But you slipped right through his fingers. His throat was tight; nothing came out. And you just stared at him, unblinking, lips ever so slightly parted.
“Why Katsuki? Why couldn’t you have saved me?”
Your voice is accusatory, bitter, and so unlike everything that he knew about you... yet it felt so real.
Bakugo feels a dryness in his mouth as he shouts to you, his voice cracking. It was if a dam burst, and he sobs, sinking to his knees. “I tried!” He curses, watching you turn your back to him, and as he reaches out his hand to catch your wrist, he jolts awake.
Katsuki pants, heaving up and down. Sweat rolls down his forehead. It had felt way too real. He sighs, checking the clock. 4 am. Great. Should he even be surprised? He rises, pulling open his curtains and preparing for the day ahead, your face still fresh in his mind
Bakugo hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since your disappearance, almost two years ago. Hell, he wondered how anyone from 1-A did. They had been there, too- that fateful day of the school festival, everyone riled up to celebrate the fact that it was their last one before graduation. And of course, something had to go wrong.
Your quirk was invaluable and insanely powerful: controlling probability. If you stockpiled enough energy, you could exert it to tip the scales to someone’s advantage, which could range from boosting the probability of rolling a six on a die...or boosting the probability of someone winning a fight. It worked better when more specific and focused, however.
You had gained a lot of attention from having such an interesting quirk, but some of it turned out to be pretty...bad. Including a plucky group of villains who had been able to capture you during the school festival. The brawl had moved to the city, after Bakugo sent one of the dudes careening into the side of a building with a skillful explosion. Pros urged him to evacuate, but he didn’t listen. He couldn’t have, not when you had been among the ones to save him when he had been kidnapped.
But you weren’t as lucky.
They got away with you. Bakugo remembered the look on your face as you were whisked away into thin air. Gone without a trace, slipped through his fingers.
The search was an ordeal that was significantly harder than his own. The group that had kidnapped you was pretty underground. This, in fact, was their first major crime.
So that left police with no leads, no identification, and no evidence whatsoever. The case went cold. Not a day went by when Bakugo didn’t think of you. His graduation had been somber, Class 1-A collectively on edge together for the rest of the year. Y/N, the promising rising star, so obviously on track to becoming a powerful hero— snuffed out just like that. There was rage, there were tears, there was silence. But now, they had to move on. They were adults, pro-heroes who needed to focus on bigger things. He growled. Yeah, right.
It was no secret among his peers that he liked you. After that incident, many pitied him and the way he kept his head down and his jaw clenched. They didn’t speak up when he lost his temper, they didn’t point out that he was easier to piss off than usual, and they didn’t try to stop him when he’d curse a disproportionate amount at some inanimate object that had wasn’t working right. They knew his pain. Despite him never opening up to anyone, they knew. Bakugo immersed himself in his ambition; training and fighting being the only “healthy” outlet he had. By the time he left UA, he was already in the top ten and slowly forming an agency. He kept an old bulletin board dedicated to your case, spending months trying to track you. Everyone considered him crazy for refusing to let go. But that never stopped him.
His phone rings, and he groans, seeing the contact. Nevertheless, he answers, forcefully brushing the phone against his ear.
“Deku?!”
“Ah! Kacchan, I need to ask for your help on a case.”
Bakugo rubs his temples, annoyed just at the sound of his childhood friend’s voice.
“Heh? Like I would help you, nerd!”
Deku’s voice takes on a graver tone, somewhat faltering. “I think you’d want to after you hear this guy’s MO.”
“Yeah right.”
“No, listen. You remember-“ Deku pauses a moment, hesitating as he chokes back his words. His voice is strained over the phone, betraying some sort of feeling that leaves Bakugo on edge. “You remember Y/N?” Deku continues.
Bakugo bites his lip, brow furrowed with anguish. Internally, he thanks whatever higher power there is that his old friend can’t see his face.
“How could I forget?” He mumbles.
“Well,” Deku breathes, his tone still solemn. “This guy- eyewitness reports say he vanishes into thin air. Literally. He’s been spotted all over the prefecture, mostly dealing in theft, but the most recent case they’ve linked him to is the kidnapping of a Shiketsu boy. Promising kid. The cases also match up with your research, too. I know it’s a stretch-“
Bakugo looks at the old bulletin board placed above his bed, bitter recollection filling his head. “I’m in.”
“Eh? You are?”
“Yes, you shitty nerd! Just brief me on the course of attack. Bastard won’t know what hit him.” He prays that Deku won’t catch on to the trembling intensity of his words. He didn’t need anyone else’s pity, much less Deku’s. What he needed was to find you.
“...You know it might not be him, right? And even if it is, there’s no guarantee...?”
Bakugo tenses, and the line is silent for a moment. His palms are suddenly heavy, weary with exhaustion. He sighs, frustration in a single breath.
“Goddamn it, I know that. But I have to try, Deku.” His voice cracks, shaky but firm. “I owe it to her.”
Deku is quiet. The air is thick—almost suffocating. And finally, he responds.
“Then, drop by my agency this evening. There’s a lot to cover.”
———————————————————————
“Peh. So this is the place.”
Bakugo looks up at the building. It was modest, but classy. Respectable,especially with its prime location. Not that he’d let Deku know.
He’s escorted into a conference room, eyeing the place up and down. His face contorts into dramatic anger when he locks eyes with none other than Todoroki Shouto.
“WHAT’S ICY-HOT DOING HERE?!”
Bakugo grabs Midoriya by the collar, his eye twitching and his fist poised. Deku starts sputtering like a dying fish, waving his hands around.
“Kacchan- he was interested in the mission, too! And it’s not like we can’t use his help-“
“YES WE CAN! WE DON’T NEED HIM!”
“But he might be useful! He’s a top ranking hero too, you know-“
“THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’LL BE USEFUL!”
Bakugo reels back his arm, ready to blast Deku’s ass into the stratosphere. Todoroki appears behind him, cool as ever.
“Bakugo,” Shouto begins, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. “She was my friend, too.”
Bakugo pauses, his violent persona sufficiently diffused. He loosens his grip on Midoriya, casting Todoroki a wayward glare. Shouto returns it with his own determined eyes. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s get on with this.”
They settle into seats, Midoriya wheeling in a large whiteboard with meticulous notes dotted all over it.
“First and foremost, I guess I should start with the fact that we’ll also be joined by Uravity, Red Riot, and Froppy,” Midoriya begins, adjusting a projector.
“Do we really need that many people?”
“In all likelihood, no. But there’s a tip that this guy is linked to some bigger crime ring.” A map charting several misdemeanors flicks onto the board. “So, with backup, we’re better safe than sorry.”
Bakugo slumps in his chair. “What is this, a high school reunion?” He jeers.
Midoriya gives him a wry smile. “I guess you can look at it like that. Thanks to your intel, Kacchan, we were able to track down his ID. I went through some records down at the station, and the guy we’re going after apparently has some sort of molecular rearrangement quirk.”
Todoroki cocks his head. “Sort of like that Yakuza guy? Back with Eri?”
“Sort of. But the point is, it allows him to disappear covertly. Really covertly. He just needs to break down his body and his target to their smallest forms and he can manipulate and transport them without a trace. Disappearing into thin air.”
“That sounds awfully familiar,” Todoroki notes, giving Bakugo a quick glance. Bakugo snorts in response, recalling your disappearance. Thin air, huh?
Midoriya nods. “I have a hunch that...it’s the same guy. But, since there’s no guarantee, let’s not get our hopes up. Let’s just focus on prioritizing the rescue.” He turns his board over, revealing an even more intricate chart on the back. “Let’s go over a plan.”
———————————————————————
The fateful day arrived. Police encircled the building- some dingy joint on the bad side of town that looked like any other dive bar. Bakugo would lead the calvary alongside Kirishima and Todoroki, while Asui and Deku rounded off any potential exits. Uraraka watched from above, surveying the entire scene with bated breath.
Bakugo kicks down the door, poised to attack, and meets the faces of at least twenty other folks. One shouts above the ramble and suddenly all hell breaks loose. People are throwing bottles, attacking at Bakugo and each other- and he catches a glimpse of someone fleeing down a flight of stairs behind the bar.
He pursues, carving through the dense crowd with ease. He flies down the stairwell, greeting darkness almost immediately. Bakugo’s explosions flicker in his hands, casting orange shadows over his face in the dim hall. It’s narrow, and there’s only one way to go. There’s only one thing to do. He takes off running, panting heavily, gritting his teeth. This bastard- the nerve he had. To steal the futures of some promising kids.
The hall opens to a cavernous room, and Bakugo edges along the wall, silently inching forward. He catches a glimpse of a long shadow limping back and forth, pacing with nervous energy. Bakugo grins to himself, prepared to strike, and as the silhouette passes the opening of the hallway, he tackles them, restraints in hand. “DIE!” He sends an explosion to their backside. The villain lets out a sturdy cry of pain and immediately yields. Not that it mattered, the restraints wouldn’t permit the use of his quirk whatsoever.
Bakugo looks the guy up and down, hate filling his chest. He growls, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”
The man is silent, not even meeting Bakugo’s fiery eyes. Bakugo forces his head towards him, watching fear dance in his gaze. He sneers. “You’re just a coward,” he spits.
Kirishima’s footsteps patter through the hall, and the red-haired boy bursts into the room, stumbling upon the scene.
“Bakugo! That’s the guy!” Bakugo tosses the criminal to him, surveying the area. “Take care of it,” he mumbles in his raspy tone. “I’m looking for the victim.”
He approaches a nearby door- old and decrepit, like everything else in the place. With calculated force, he blasts it down, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. The room is dirty and neglected, like some kind of dungeon.
His eyes widen when he sees your face, hollow cheeks and empty eyes chained against the wall alongside a sobbing boy. Shock fills your sunken form, and you utter out his name, a wistful, raspy murmur.
“Katsuki...?”
Bakugo freezes, once again feeling a terrible weight in his chest. He wants to scream, he wants to go to you- but he’s rooted to the spot, disgusted at your treatment...and at himself. Police flood the little room, Midoriya shouting commands and comforting the boy, and everything’s in a haze. But throughout it all, he never tears his eyes from you, despite the clenching he feels in his heart.
You wake up in an unfamiliar hospital bed. The world seems different. Fresh, and new. A small smile forms on your face, and you giggle quietly to yourself, blinking in the gentle light. You examine the room. A clean, white place with a monitor beeping softly in the background. The hum of machines drone on, and to your right-
You gasp, surprised to see the sleeping face of none other than Bakugo Katsuki, slumped down in a chair. Your childhood crush, handsome as ever. Halos bounced off of the spikes of his hair where the light hit him, leaving him looking like some otherworldly beauty. You laugh to yourself, starting as a small chuckle at this moment- then dissolving into a deep, boisterous and emotional expression of mirth, one that caused tears to form at the corner of your eyes and made you choke over your own joy. It inadvertently woke your spiky-haired hero, who looked down at you, eyes wide and tired.
“Y/N.”
You lift your hand up to him, cupping his face. “Katsuki.”
His jaw clenches, and his eyes go glassy. As he speaks, you feel a sadness, deep and broken, in his heart, and his voice cracks.
“I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t be faster. That I couldn’t save you-“ he chokes.
“I never lost hope in you.” Bakugo looks into your eyes, and your heart skips a beat with how vulnerable he looks. “I stockpiled energy with the hope that you’d rescue me,” you whisper, brushing away a tear from his face. “I trusted you’d be the one. Out of all of them at UA-“ you smile softly, recalling your high school years. “You were the one I thought of the most. And thinking of you...it gave me hope.” How far away it all seemed. Those days with your friends, training on the field, hoping to be a hero.
“I thought of you, too.” Bakugo grips your hand, as if afraid you’ll disappear again. You pull him into a hug, stroking his trembling form. It felt so good to be in his arms, almost dream like. “Katsuki, I have something to tell you, though,” you murmur. “I had quite the crush on you, back at UA,” you chuckle. He pulls back, still holding you. He brings a calloused hand to your face, drinking in your features. “I did, too,” he admits. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach, and suddenly it’s as if you’re sixteen again.
“Do you think it’s still there?” You breathe.
He never takes his eyes from yours, and slowly moves in to press his forehead to yours.
“If you do.” You close the distance, placing a kiss on his lips. You drown in his familiar scent, sighing with contentment. Now, this felt like home. Bakugo moves back cautiously, his gentle demeanor and tone never shifting. He brushes a hair away from your face, ever so softly.
“God, you think we can make it work?” He mutters. “You deserve someone who could have saved you on the first try.”
Your brow creases watching Katsuki avert his gaze. You force him to turn his head to you, looking at you straight on. “We have the rest of our lives, Katsuki,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare think that you’ve failed me. You’re the one who tried the hardest. You’re the one who saved me.” Bakugo shrugs.
“I didn’t do it alone.”
You shake your head, beaming. “That’s not what I mean. Holding on to the idea that you’d come— that’s what saved me. I would have died, ages ago if I didn’t carry that hope with me. If I didn’t have that goal to save up my energy to help you find me.”
Bakugo softens beneath your touch, melting as you give him a couple of pecks. He grips your tiny hand in his, swearing that he’ll never let you go ever again.
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pluto-art · 3 years
Text
Syncytium - Chapter 5
Title: Polarization Words: 11,170 (including author’s comments) Rating: T
Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/5/Syncytium
Just as always, I highly recommend the FF.net version, as it includes all accentuated words. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Consider it a New Year’s Eve gift. Enjoy. :)
October 1st, 1993 - 7:10 PM
The wall to the cloaked laboratory slid open with a soft hiss as Brian T. Globetrotter quickly shuffled out of his private workshop and headed for the elevator. His ears perked a little as a distant sound caught his ear. It sounded like shuffling. Was that coming from the... trash cans? A yearning desire to investigate had to be cut short, however, as a small ding signaled the arrival of his ride. Not like he could wait another minute anyway. He stepped past the steel doors and poked intrusively at Floor One's button, doing his best not to break out in a desperate dance as his pained expression was shut to the basement.
In a back corner of the basement, a trash can wiggled about unsteadily... then went still. A second later and it jumped about again, rocking back and forth, as if someone were tickling its insides mercilessly. Then, with an echoing pop that reverberated off the walls, from its stomach burst forth a tall white mouse, his hair disheveled and his glasses askew as he shook himself, breathed out a welcome sigh of relief, and hopped out of the can before replacing its lid.
"Sorry, Mr. Trash Can. Zort! Thanks for all the help, though!" Pinky apologized, smiling as he refitted the can with its metallic "hat" and patted it kindly.
Even though no one could hear him, he took care to tip-toe as covertly as he could past where the secret laboratory lay, beyond the elevator, and up... up... up the stairs, only exiting onto the first floor landing once he heard the familiar ding of the elevator below, signaling Globetrotter's return to the basement. He smiled and blew out yet another grateful sigh. That was a close one. He'd almost gotten caught!
Down below, Globetrotter stepped out of the elevator, adjusting his pants a touch and facepalming. That one had been painful... He reminded himself that his next doctor appointment was the following Tuesday, and privately hoped that they'd have a better solution - stronger pills or something. This was getting ridiculous.
Pinky hadn't noticed that, in his haste to hide from Globetrotter's prying eyes, he'd dropped his #2 pencil on the ground at the lab's entrance. But Globetrotter noticed. He picked up the orange object and turned it about with bandaged fingers, a crease or two forming upon his thick brow. This wasn't his. #2 pencil? He'd never be that cheap. Someone had been here...
/\/\/\/\/\/\
October 4th, 1993 - 4:14 PM
It was official: The Halloween party was happening at the end of the month - October 30th, a Saturday. Somehow, after four years of the school going without any employees-only holiday gatherings, Pinky had gotten it passed; or, rather, the principal had passed it. Even with him being one for the theatrics, many still couldn't understand why he had no aversion what-so-ever to such an event, especially considering that it was said principal whom had banned employees-only parties in the first place due to an unfortunate incident. Some were convinced that he had an ulterior motive, though what that might be no one could even begin to guess. And so a mystery it remained, although a good number of teachers were unabashedly excited for the party regardless. A few stragglers, such as Mr. Ages and Globetrotter, refused to attend, finding it a waste of time. Completely. Others, however, such as Mrs. Brisby, Dr. Dawson, and Bernard and Bianca had already picked out their costumes. Mr. Ages and Globetrotter rolled their eyes at this. It was generally agreed upon that the party was to be held at Flaversham's house, as he was one of the most handsomely paid and, as a result, owned the largest establishment. He was also incredibly humble about it and often welcomed visitors. The only rule for this autumn gathering was that no children were allowed, and so Olivia would have to room with Mrs. Brisby and her children for the night. Flaversham was agreeable to this. Olivia was not.
Pinky came across her that afternoon, sulking by his door at 4:14 PM. She had been noticeably absent to class, and as the lanky, spectacled mouse approached the young girl, he frowned at her in concern.
She didn't look at him as he knelt down to her level. The floor was, apparently, much more interesting.
"Olivia?" Pinky began, tilting his head a little, the better to look into those stubborn, glossy eyes. "Class wasn't the same without you."
She sniffed, the tears began to fall, yet still she said nothing.
"Olivia...?" he inquired again, reaching out a soft paw and delicately tucking a finger underneath her chin, the better, of course, to tilt her head towards him. He smiled at her, a kindly, encouraging smile. "I'm here."
And the dam burst.
She threw herself into his arms, sobbing vehemently, as only a child can when they've been denied something incredibly important to them. Pinky hugged her right back, patting her back gently.
"Naaaaarf," her teacher cooed in his unusual way, rubbing her head. "Ohhhhh. Tell me all about it, hm?"
"M-My daddy... says I can't go to the Halloween party!" Olivia managed to choke out. "We always do everything together... when I'm not at school! B-But he said that... I can't go because... this is a party only for the adults." At this, she had to pause, for another torrential downpour threatened to burst, making her breath hitch. She was shaking so much that she'd shook her little tam-o-shanter right off her head. "I promise I'll be good! I won't even drink the alkaseltzer!"
She said this all so seriously, and anyone else might have stifled a snort at such an overly-dramatic display, as well as her incorrect pronunciation of "alcohol", but Pinky was not like other adults. He took Olivia's woes as gravely as if he'd just been delivered the news himself. After all, if he was uninvited to one of the coolest parties of the year, especially one he was to be the host of, he'd be pretty bummed out, too.
"Oh, Olivia...," he whimpered along with her, pulling the young girl back from his shoulder so as to address her properly, and felt his heart practically break at the sight of her crimson eyes. "I'm sure your dad would normally love to have you stay! After all, it's not a real party without Olivia." And he winked at her. That turned her frown upside down, if only for half a second. "I'd be really sad to not be invited to a party, too, ya' know."
"R-Really...?" the distraught little student hiccuped, wiping her eyes.
"Of course! But... you know something else?"
"What?"
"I'll bet some of the other kids are sad that they won't get to go to the party with their parents either. Like... Timothy and Cynthia. They can't go either, can they?"
Olivia shook her head.
"And you're the oldest, right?"
Yes.
"You know what that means, don't you?"
No.
"That means that you're in charge of making your own party!"
"You mean... we can have our own private party without the adults?"
"As long as Mrs. Brisby says it's okay. I'll put in a good word for you," Pinky promised. "Oh, and just between us...," and at this, he leaned in towards Olivia, cupping a hand to his mouth. Olivia extended an ear in interest. "I'm rather jealous I won't be able to attend yours. I'm sure it'll be way cooler."
At this, Olivia beamed.
"It'll be the best party you'll have never been to!"
And she picked up her hat from off the floor and slapped it down resolutely upon her furry little head, the redness of her eyes the only trace that she'd ever been crying at all. She spread her arms wide before hugging Pinky tight around the middle, nuzzling into his chest... and letting a few stray tears leak out in the process.
"Thank you, Mr. Pinky...," she whispered under her breath, and Pinky couldn't help but smile as he embraced her in return.
"You're welcome, Miss Olivia," he replied right back, booping her nose and waving after her as she ran off and around a corner.
Olivia's chipper exit was replaced by a much stiffer entrance in the form of Globetrotter, who stared after Olivia in judgement as he straightened a small stack of papers clutched in his grasp. This didn't phase Pinky in the least.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brain!" he greeted him cheerfully, and for once, possibly the very first time for Pinky, Globetrotter actually smiled at him. Well, perhaps it was more of a smirk than a genuine grin, but Pinky accepted it either way. It was nice to see.
"Evening, my quixotic colleague," Globetrotter responded, his tone and inflection considerably more chipper than usual. "I take it you're excited for the festivities?"
"Ohhh, yes! Are you coming?" Pinky asked, as he stepped into his classroom. Globetrotter followed him to the door.
"I don't participate in such frivolities," said Globetrotter, hands tucked neatly behind his back and expression monotonous as he watched Pinky grab a tall ladder from the back of the classroom and position it underneath a dead light bulb. "You'll just have to survive without my presence."
Pinky tut tut tutted sadly as he picked out a fresh bulb from one of the desk drawers and made for the ladder.
"Not even for the punch, Brain?"
"It's Brian. Mr. Globetrotter, preferably. And, no, not even for what I'm sure will be... a delectable punch."
"Mmm. Shame," Pinky shrugged, as he popped the bulb in his mouth, clumsily climbed up the ladder, and carefully set down his bulb as he fixed to take out the old one. "I was rather looking forward to having you."
"You were?" Globetrotter asked, surprised. No one ever wanted him anywhere.
"Of course! Poit!" responded the other, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were one of the first ones to welcome me when I came to the school, and you did so very well in my class!"
"That was... just a fluke," Globetrotter responded rather bashfully, averting his gaze a little.
"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."
Globetrotter cocked an eyebrow at him curiously. He simply couldn't make heads or tails of this creature. Not only did he care about him for the stupidest, most meaningless reasons he could possibly concoct, he also saw him as an... equal. The very thought sent shivers up Globetrotter's spine. Never in his life would he put himself on the same pedestal as this nincompoop, not if he was paid to do it. Ronald Pinkus was beneath him in every way. And yet... there was something, dare he say it, wholesome about how he flat out refused to acknowledge any flaws in Brian what-so-ever, for flaws he had and plenty of them. This he knew, yet hated to admit. But he'd never met anyone who genuinely looked past them; who not only wasn't afraid to approach him, but sometimes purposely sought him out. It was... odd. Touching, but... odd.
He coughed uncomfortably.
"Yes, well... Maybe you should simply... retire earlier. There's more associates around before six o'clock."
"B-But I can't retire, Brain!" Pinky voiced worriedly, screwing in the new bulb, which popped a stale yellow as he wound it into place. "I just got here!"
"I meant rest. Perhaps you should go home earlier in the day, you... undeveloped fetus."
The insult flew right over Pinky's head to land somewhere in an empty corner, where no one else's ears could possibly pick it up. If anything, Pinky beamed at Globetrotter's response.
"Ohhhhhh! Well, that's different then, isn't it? But, oh, wait... No. No no, I couldn't possibly do that either. What about the students?"
"The students?"
"Yes, Brain! Don't your students ask to talk with you about their problems after class?" asked Pinky matter-of-factly, as he promptly descended the ladder, folded it up, and moved it back to its resting place. He hummed a very repetitive little tune as he did all this. Hm hm, hm hm, hm hmmmm. It was monotonous, yet curiously catchy, in a way.
"Noooooooo... Not usually. Sometimes they'll ask a question about a theory or mathematical equation, of course, but that's to be expected," he said, perhaps a bit haughtily as he checked over his fingernails. "I am not privy to the personal issues and well-being of my pupils. They keep to their business and I keep to mine. This is a school, not a therapist's office."
"It's not?"
Brain stared at him, giving him the most deadpan glare he could possibly muster.
"You are, without a doubt, the daftest individual I've ever met."
"Thank you, Brain," Pinky smiled, and he said it genuinely.
With a shake of the head, Brain stepped back out into the hallway, Pinky following.
"If you'll excuse me, I must return to my state of business," said he, and he began to walk away from room 210.
"Oh! Ummm... Brain?" Pinky asked, remaining by his door as he waved an eager hand towards his colleague.
Brain turned to look back at him, one eyebrow raised and hands once more tucked behind his back.
"Will you be eating dinner here at the school tonight?" he asked.
Globetrotter stared at him for a moment, nonplussed.
"Most likely. Why?"
"Would you like to join me in the cafeteria? I have something for yoouuuuu!"
Globetrotter considered this. Normally, his answer would be a firm and stalwart "NO", but perhaps it would work to his benefit. Being closer to Pinky would enable him to carry out his plan much faster and easier. The lanky teacher was such an unsuspecting ignoramus that he could probably finish the job Scott free, even in a public area. Heheh. Finish the job. Oh, it sounded so devious...
"Ccccertainly. Why not?" Globetrotter replied, smirking. "After all, you... have shown yourself to be a successful member of this institution. I suppose it's only fit to honor that with the occasional get-together."
"Oh, wonderful! Six o'clock then?" Pinky grinned, radiant as a firefly as he clapped his hands together rather childishly and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.
"Yes. Six o'clock. Don't be late," Globetrotter warned, as he turned around to continue in his trek down the hall. He'd barely gotten another foot away from the excited Pinky, however, when he was called back once more.
"Oh! Brain?"
He looked back, a rather miffed expression pulling at his face. If that nitwit mispronounced his name one more time...
"Thank you," said Pinky in a soft voice as he hid his hands behind his back rather bashfully.
"Don't mention it," Globetrotter responded dryly. "It's just a lunch."
"No no. I mean... for the compliment. You really think I'm a success...?"
He said it so sincerely that Globetrotter almost felt sorry for him. Almost...
"Sure," lied his tongue. "You've certainly proved to be of... some worth."
In truth, it was only a partial fabrication. He had shown himself to be successful, if you considered babysitting a bunch of toddlers lucrative. In Globetrotter's eyes, the bumbling professor, if he was even laudable enough to be called that, was only popular from a superficial standpoint - he was likable, he was approachable, he was, as the girls disgustingly called him, "hot", and he was easy-going with children. In short, he was a celebrity, not a teacher. Whatever credentials he did obtain were worthless to someone of Globetrotter's stature; anyone who charmed their way into so highly prestigious of an establishment didn't deserve to hold a position there in the first place. He was enough of a threat to consider ousting due to his fame as a personality, but from an educational angle he posed no competition; at least, not in Globetrotter's eyes. And so he threw him a bone, more as a cover-up than anything, but he didn't expect him to take it so... consolingly. It made him a little uncomfortable.
"Thank you," Pinky said again, beaming. "You've... been the only one to tell me that. Well, at least here anyway. Eheh. Poit..."
Globetrotter frowned at the verbal tick. Few questioned it, aside from the occasional student who ventured to ask what "zort" or "narf" meant. Globetrotter simply took it as a medical condition and left it at that. He'd rather assume as such than entertain the thought that that sorry excuse of a teacher actually enjoyed spewing such nonsense, but, then again, he wouldn't be surprised.
He also frowned at the admittance, somewhat in surprise. Had none of the other teachers thrown him a kind word? Surely they must have. He knew they had, in fact, for he'd overheard their compliments, both in Pinky's presence and not. Most liked him, and those who didn't simply felt sorry for him. At least they'd had some sense to not outright call him a success, because he certainly was not that when it came to earning a place as a professional in the university.
"Just keep doing what you're doing and I'm sure you'll be fine," he spat, perhaps a little too harshly. Pinky noticed not. "You've undoubtedly shown yourself to be popular."
"Oh, not as popular as you, Brain! I'm sure you're still one of the best teachers in the whole school!"
At this, Globetrotter smiled.
"To that I flagrantly concur, my good fellow. To that, I flagrantly concur," grinned the science professor, and he said it so deviously that, if he'd uttered it to any other teacher, they would have flogged him where he stood.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
4:47 PM
Globetrotter clicked on the little green banker's desk lamp that sat on his table. It cast a dim, yellow glow across the mahogany surface, illuminating papers, calculators, a coffee mug, and a gel pen - an expensive one. Rolling in the combination to the lock on his briefcase, he pushed in on the lock buttons, to which the case satisfyingly clicked open. Out of it he pulled: a pair of gloves, some odd-looking tools, a computer chip, a bottle of Aspirin, and a very small, round device that appeared to be magnetic in construction. Indeed, from an outsider's perspective, it looked to be nothing more than one of those tiny black magnets that one stuck to their fridge to pin up such things as receipts and shopping lists. Quite unassuming.
The middle-aged mouse laid out the chip, magnet, and tools, pulled on his gloves with a sharp snap, and got to work. For twenty minutes he tinkered with the device. It was delicate work, requiring much precision, but he reveled in it. Occasionally, his ponderings wandered to, of all things, Ronald Pinkus - how quixotic he was; how precariously he'd climbed up that rickety ladder. Shame he didn't break his neck, Globetrotter thought. Would have made my job much easier...
At 5:10 PM, he stood up from his chair, learned towards his desk lamp, and, with the little magnet pinched between his fingers, held it up to the lamp.
Snap.
It attached to the lamp's outer surface as if it was made to rest there. Globetrotter smirked. Pulling off the magnet, he opened up a side drawer and tested it out on a steel tape dispenser. It worked there, too. The magnet hugged it tightly. Globetrotter pulled it off, nodded satisfactorily, and pocketed it. Of course, this was only half of the test. It would only prove itself after applied.
"Oh, you beautiful little Polarizer," he mumbled fondly, actually kissing the device as he held it securely between his fingers. "Make me proud!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\
6:05 PM
He was late. Of course he was late.
Globetrotter tapped his fingers on a cafeteria table impatiently, checking his watch every now and then, even though there was a clock literally right above him, attached to a pole near the entrance of the meeting area. If there was anything that boiled his bottles more than almost anything else, it was tardiness. There was no excuse for irresponsibility.
The cafeteria was completely devoid of life, save for a few straggling servers behind the counter, the janitors, Jak and Gus, and Globetrotter himself. One thing rather noteworthy, if not a tad bit odd, about Acme School of Arts and Sciences was that all classes generally ended at 5:00 PM. The founder of the university had been strict about the doors closing early so as both school personnel and students had ample time to spend in the evenings with their family and friends, as well as have extra time to commit to homework. It was a rule that was still upheld to this day. Some professors, of course, still stayed past "curfew", mostly to attend to extra duties and grading during the quiet evenings, and even then none of them, save for Globetrotter, and now Pinky, ever lingered past 6:00 PM. The one exception was the theater kids - their rehearsals sometimes went until 7:00 or even 8:00 PM. It was the only reason the cafeteria stayed open until 7:00, and even then it was rare to find anyone at a table this late.
Globetrotter welcomed the silence, of course. It was a time for pondering; a time for planning. But he had no patience for late-comers.
He had half a mind to just get up and leave right then and there when in swooped the Trozologist, waving as he headed in a rush towards his cafe buddy.
"Phew! So sorry I'm late, Brain!" he sighed, flopping down into a chair, a bit too close for Globetrotter's liking. He scooted to the side a few paces. "Mrs. Brisby and I got to talking about cooking and, well, the time just ran away with me! Ha-ha! Zort!"
"Yes... I'm sure it did," Globetrotter groaned, not at all amused. "Are you going to refresh yourself?" he asked. He was already on his third cup of coffee and about to get primed for a fourth.
Pinky looked around at this, concerned, before focusing his attention back on Globetrotter.
"Um... In public, Brain?"
Globetrotter's response was a deep, planted facepalm. What an absolute boob.
"The drinks, you ignoramus. The drinks! Are you doing to get a drink?!"
"Pfff. Well, why didn't you say so, Brain?" Pinky chuckled, rolling his eyes and standing right back up again. "Oh! I almost forgot. This is for you."
And he set down in front of Globetrotter a very pretty, very lovingly wrapped little present that, somehow, he hadn't noticed before. He stared at it rather worriedly, as if it might explode.
"Well, go ahead, silly!" Pinky encouraged him, nudging him forward with a nod of the head.
"Th-Thank you," Globetrotter said, not quite sure how to respond. He unwrapped it with delicate fingers, loosening first the decorative red bow tied about the box, then carefully undoing the rose-patterned ivory paper underneath. Inside was a dark green box with a lid on it. He slipped off the lid, peered inside, and pulled out...
"For you!" Pinky exclaimed happily. "Do you like it?"
It was a black coffee mug, with the words 'Best Teacher Ever!' written in white upon the front. It was quite a nice mug, despite the ridiculous phrase - snug in his hands and smooth to the touch. He was equal parts flattered that Pinky had recognized his fondness for coffee and embarrassed that it was that apparent.
"Thank you...," he answered awkwardly. He'd probably have to blot out the text later. Being associated with anything that generic churned his stomach. But he did like the mug. "I... needed a new one."
"Now you can use it with your new coffee maker!"
"You bought that for me...?"
"Of course! Who else would I buy it for?" blurted out Pinky, rolling his eyes. "I mean, everyone can use it, but... I ordered it for you really."
To this, Globetrotter could only stare disbelievingly. He swallowed thickly. What... was with this mouse?! Buying him a mug. Saying he made him less lonely at night. Ordering a coffee maker just so he could enjoy his days a bit more? No one was this nice. Surely, there was some ulterior motive.
"What's the catch...?" he asked, looking serious. There was always a catch. Always.
"Catch, Brain?" inquired Pinky, cocking his head in confusion. "Um... I haven't caught anything lately, Brain. Unless you count this fish," he said, and he pulled out of his pocket an actual, live minnow in a small jar filled with water. "Hellooooo, Jerry!" said Pinky... to the fish. "I caught him in the lake this morning! Still need to buy him a tank, though. Don't I, Jerry?"
Globetrotter simply stared at him, nonplussed, his mouth hanging open a little.
"Go on! Back you go!" said Pinky, tucking the little minnow back into his pocket and smiling at Globetrotter happily as if he hadn't just pulled a live fish out of his coat. "Oh! That's right. Drinks! Aren't you going to get yours, Brain?"
And off he trotted, heading in the direction of the cafeteria to grab, as usual, an odd assortment of foods and a drink. Globetrotter nervously looked behind him at Pinky, as if he might set fire to something... or pull a bazooka out of his pants... or... something. At this point, he didn't know what to expect from this mouse, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Perhaps he was biting off more than he could chew...
But no. He shook his head at the thought. Pinkus was simply an idiot. A kind... thoughtful... very sweet idiot... But an idiot nonetheless. And no amount of good deeds was going to stop him in his plot. Nevertheless, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least try out the mug. He highly doubted it was bugged.
One mug of coffee, and a tray of assorted foods... plus a cup of Sprite, later, and Pinkus and Globetrotter were back at the table, the former laden down with treats, the latter content with his single, fourth serving of Italian Roast. Pinky helped himself eagerly to a sprinkle doughnut, offering Globetrotter a bite as he chewed happily.
"No, thank you. Bad for my... thighs," Globetrotter uttered lamely.
Pinky shrugged and finished off the tasty confection before diving into another. Globetrotter blew on his coffee before taking a tentative sip. It was good. Rich, flavorful, with a bite at its closure. And his lips conformed nicely about the mug. Yes, he liked this mug. Not that he'd ever say that out loud or anything.
For once, Pinky wasn't talking; so preoccupied with a sugar doughnut was he. Normally, Globetrotter would have welcomed this silence, but he'd gotten so used to Pinky always being a chatterbox whenever he was around him (which, admittedly, wasn't terribly often) that he felt... a little uncomfortable not making conversation, strangely.
"So, um...," he began, in a lame attempt to deaden the silence. "What is your opinion on asymptotic analysis?"
"Hm?" Pinky inquired, eyes wide and cheeks bulging with a mouthful of doughnut as he smiled puffily at Globetrotter.
Too complicated. He's not going to understand that, you moron. Globetrotter floundered. He wasn't good at this. Small talk was not one of his strong points.
"Um... chaos theory?"
Pinky swallowed.
"Ohhh! You mean like in Jurassic Park?"
"What?"
"Well, that's what Ian Malcolm always talked about. Chaos theory! Although, personally, I liked Ellie Sattler more. Laura Dern is such a good actress and I loved her in Rambling Rose! She was actually Spielberg's first choice for the role in Jurassic Park, did you know?"
He said all this as he grabbed a bottle of ketchup and mustard each and squirted their contents all over a hotdog he'd set in a bun. At the word "such" he'd given a very feminine wave of the hand that Globetrotter highly disapproved of.
"I did not know," Globetrotter replied, taking a dainty sip of his coffee.
"She also auditioned for the role of Clarice in Silence of the Lambs, but I really do think Jodie Foster was a more appropriate selection. She's quite versatile. I heard she's looking to get back into the directing field soon..."
And on and on he went, sometimes speaking between bites, other times continuing on with a mouthful of food, his thick mumbles so incomprehensible that Globetrotter could only catch a "George Lucas" here and a "Princess Bride" there. It was downright humorous to him that this mouse, who knew so little about the subjects upon which this school was founded, was incredibly versed in filmography. Then again, he supposed it was only appropriate, considering the flamboyant showman that he was. And this was a school of sciences and arts, after all. But then, why hadn't he majored in theater? Trozology, whatever it was, seemed a waste of time.
"You seem to know a lot about cinema," Globetrotter voiced, finally able to find a break in the conversation after a solid ten minutes. The entire time, he'd covertly tried to roam about Pinky's attire with a sharp gaze, looking for anything magnetic he could possibly attach his device to. He eventually settled on Pinky's name tag. Of course. They all sported one, and they were made of metal. If he could somehow stick it on the back...
"Oh, I love the arts!" Pinky responded, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes dreamily. "All the movie magic and the passion and the creativity...!"
"Pinky, might I... see your badge for a moment? Only there's a nasty blemish on it. I... certainly wouldn't want you to walk around with a dirty tag."
"Why, thank you, Brain. How thoughtful of you."
And he unpinned his badge from his coat and handed it to Globetrotter. It was as simple as that.
"So, if you're so into the arts then why didn't you become an actor... or something?" Globetrotter stalled, as his right hand poked about in his jacket pocket to ensure that the magnet was still there. It was. He plucked it out, hiding it in his right hand as he pretended to rub at a spot on the badge with the end of his coat, surreptitiously planting the little magnet on the back of the badge as he did so. Piece of cake.
"Oh, I was going to, Brain! Narf! But I found something else I love much more...," he said, resting a cheek on his left hand as he gazed off into space, a toothy grin curled about his visage.
"Trozology?"
"Mmhm."
"What is Trozology?"
"You don't know, Brain? It's the study o-"
But at that moment, the cafeteria doors burst open to reveal a very angry set indeed: Dex, followed close behind by Maisy, Marvell, Gadget, Tillie, and one other boy rat whom Pinky didn't recognize. Dex and Maisy were shouting at the top of their lungs, oblivious to the few stragglers lingering about the room.
"-never messed with your business before! I know it's important to you. Why do you think I gave you your space?!" Dex yelled at his sister, a plethora of expressive hand gestures complementing his outburst.
"You never 'gave me my space', Dex. You're always hanging out after my classes; checking in on me when I'm trying to relax. How is that 'giving me my space'?!"
"Oh, man. Um. Lemme think. Maybe it's because... I care about you?!"
"Maisy, come on. He's taken a lot of hits for you," Gadget said, stepping forward.
"Oh, like, grade hits? Detention? You'd know a lot about hits, wouldn't you, Dex?"
"Girl, come on. Maisy's right," Marvell uttered, also stepping up. "You're laying it on too hard."
"YOU WANNA TAKE HER SIDE?! THEN FINE! I know you care more about her and Dex than me!"
"I didn't say that!" Marvell countered, looking hurt.
"This is about Mom, isn't it?! You don't know ANYTHING about taking hits!" Maisy practically screamed at Dex, advancing towards him with the ferocity of a tyrannosaurus, causing him to back up with every step she took.
None of them had yet seen Globetrotter and Pinky off to the side, and the janitors stayed as silent as the mice they were from a shaded corner. Pinky looked on the verge of standing up to intervene, but Globetrotter, surprisingly, put out a hand to stop him.
"It's not about Mom! It's... about everything!" Dex choked out. "And don't tell me that I don't know anything about taking hits, Maisy! You don't know the half of it..."
"The hell do you mean about that?" Maisy softened up, but only for a moment. She turned swiftly 'round to glare at her friends. "THE HELL DOES HE MEAN?!"
All of them shuffled about awkwardly, looking embarrassed. Gadget rubbed at her arm, and Marvell bit her lip suspiciously, gaze firmly planted to the floor. But the boy rat looked the most broken of all, and it was him that Maisy targeted.
"What does he mean, Red?"
Red directed his eyes downward, his ears appropriately turning the color of his namesake.
"What does he mean?!"
"I... I promised I wouldn't say, Mais!" he sputtered out, a paw coming up to rub at a sore spot on the back of his head.
"Dex?!" Maisy spat, rounding back on her brother.
"You attend this school just as much as me. You should be smart enough to figure it out," Dex replied, and with that he walked off towards an exit on the opposite end of the cafeteria, purposely ignoring his sister's pleas.
"Tell me what you mean, Dex!"
No response.
"DEX! Tell me what you mean!"
It was as she started crying that Pinky finally made his presence known... via slipping off his chair. It clattered down with its owner, the noise echoing loudly off the walls and pulling every eye in the vicinity towards him. Globetrotter jumped and glared at Pinky.
"O-Oh! Ummm...," Pinky stammered, standing up in a flash and ringing the end of his coat in his hands awkwardly.
Maisy's cheeks turned bright pink. She full out burst into tears as she turned tail and ran back into the hallway, her friends casting one last embarrassed look at the teachers before sprinting off after her, occasionally calling her name.
Pinky swallowed thickly. Globetrotter sighed, long and exhausted, through his nose.
"Why did you stop me, Brain?" Pinky queried, dusting off his coat and propping his chair back up.
"Because sometimes people just need to talk, Pinky," Globetrotter said, slapping the now tampered with badge back on the table for Pinky to take, which he did, pining it on his jacket, none the wiser.
"I don't think that was talking, Brain. That was more like... screaming."
"Well, people need to scream sometimes, too," Globetrotter nipped, draining the last bits of coffee from his mug and heading towards the sink to wash it out. Pinky followed him, demolished tray of food and empty soda cup in hand.
"Have you screamed sometimes, Brain...?" Pinky asked delicately as he tossed his trash and replaced the tray.
Globetrotter didn't answer right away. He looked thoughtful as he washed out his cup.
"Sometimes...," he finally responded, shaking the mug to rid it of the last few droplets of water.
"Were you hurting then, too?"
Another pause. Globetrotter stepped over to a paper towel dispenser, ripping off a piece to dry his cup with.
"Yes."
Globetrotter looked curiously over at Pinky, whose ears had drooped so low that he looked more like a lop rabbit than a mouse. He actually made to step forward, but Globetrotter, already smelling some form of physical affection, backed up, a hand raised in protest.
"Save your pity."
"I'm sorry, Brain. Poit..," Pinky whispered, and he truly was.
"It's fine," replied Globetrotter.
There was an awkward pause, in which neither of them spoke for a solid ten seconds, Globetrotter running a finger along the ring of his new mug, Pinky shuffling his feet uncomfortably.
"I... really should be going. Thank you for the mug. It's... good," Globetrotter ended lamely.
"You're welcome," Pinky said, the smallest of smiles crawling up his face. "Thank you, too."
"For what?"
"Sitting with me."
Globetrotter blinked. It was as if heaven itself was shining a spotlight on him, throwing every opportunity at him to find compassion for this mouse and feel guilty for what he'd done. Well, they'll have to try harder than that, Globetrotter thought. He wasn't going to relent that easily. And, in the most monotonous tone he could muster, he responded with a simple:
"Mmhm."
But the smile stayed. It took a lot, it seemed, to completely break Pinky.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
October 7th, 1993 - 4:02 PM
One of the first things Globetrotter noticed about his brilliant Polarizer, once it had been planted on Pinky, was that... it didn't work. At least, it didn't work on children. Said device had one purpose and one purpose only: redirection. From it a frequency was emitted that affected anyone within five feet of Pinky telepathically. They would be suddenly and inexplicably hit with a desire to preoccupy themselves with some other activity and, as such, never engage in interaction with Pinky for more than a few seconds. As long as he wore the name tag, he couldn't be touched. Poof. His newfound popularity would come to a screeching halt, no one would converse with him ever again, and he'd have no choice but to leave the school, friendless and jobless, leaving Globetrotter back on top as the most notable individual in the school. Or, at least, that's what it was supposed to do.
But it didn't. As usual, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia, along with Teresa and one or two others, were at Pinky's classroom at four o'clock sharp the next day, Evinrude arriving twenty minutes later (for the snacks only, of course). The day after that there was an actual line of kids standing outside the door fifteen minutes early, waiting to get in, and the day after that the line was even longer. Globetrotter could only assume that there was some fault in the hardware. But he'd tested it out on himself an hour before he'd met up with Pinky and it had worked just fine then. What was the problem? Perhaps it simply just didn't work on kids, for some reason. But that couldn't be right... Teresa was one of the college students in the school and it didn't work on her either, nor on any teacher that approached Pinky. Strange. He'd have to get the device back and tinker with it some more, he supposed. Not that that would be much of a problem. Considering how easily he'd obtained it last time, snatching it back, he figured, would be a breeze. He decided to simply wait for the right opportunity and nab it back.
Whereas Globetrotter's experiment had failed, Olivia's had gone above and beyond; in fact, it had practically skyrocketed. She now had a total of 271 signatures on her petition, an overwhelming success, in the eyes of her and Pinky. Pinky said that they had enough to approach the principal with. There was just one little problem: to ask the principal to pass their petition, that meant they had to, well, talk to the principal, something no one ever wanted to do. There was only one person in the entire school who wasn't afraid of him, that person being Globetrotter, and even he avoided the angry little maniac as much as possible. Pinky wasn't entirely averse to approaching the headmaster, mainly because he'd simply never met the guy, although there was still a lingering feeling of trepidation due to how unfavorable people talked about him. But he wasn't going to let that stop him. Olivia's petition needed to be signed off on, and he was going to do everything in his power to see that it did!
And so, that afternoon, directly after class, the hallways of Acme School of Arts and Sciences found Pinky marching down the hallway, Olivia's hand in his, as he and his student headed for the principal's office.
They stopped outside the door. Was it just their imagination, or did it feel a bit colder down this part of the hallway? It was a rather darker portion of the school - not as many offices and classes were down here, some of the lights had blown out and hadn't yet been fixed, and the office was situated right in the center of a long strip of hallway, making it the furthest away from the windows. The place simply had a... foreboding atmosphere about it.
Olivia nuzzled closer to Pinky. He smiled and squeezed her hand comfortingly.
"Put on your helmet, Olivia."
"Like on our imaginary trip into the caves?" Olivia whispered, wide-eyed.
"Mmhm."
Resolute, Olivia let go of Pinky's hand and situated her tam-o-shanter more snuggly atop her head.
"Okay. Let's go fight the dragon," said she.
Pinky knocked on the door - once, twice, three times...
"Come in..," came a voice from the other side. It sounded pleasant enough, but there was something a little... off about it; a sprinkle of deviance behind the honey-suckle tone.
Pinky opened the door.
The inside of this room was, if possible, even darker than the hallway. Like Globetrotter, the headmaster owned a green banker's desk lamp, albeit two instead of one, each on opposite sides of a dark black table, and it served as the only lighting in the entire vicinity. Besides a plethora of books encased in rich wooden shelving behind him, a couple of comfortable chairs spread about, a trash can, a blackboard, and a television in a far corner opposite the principal, the room was surprisingly plain. The most interesting thing about it was a standing globe of the world, one of those expensive ones that twirled around and had little red lights on it that clicked on to highlight various hot spots on the map as you spun it. Olivia liked those. She had an overwhelming desire to spin it, but was too scared to ask, especially seeing as the globe was literally right next to the principal's desk. The further away she could be from him, the better.
"Come in, my children, come in! Oh, do come closer to the desk. You expect an old hamster such as myself to see you properly from that far away?" the principal beckoned. He sat in a very tall, very black chair behind the ebony desk. Unlike the uniform layout of the room, he appeared quite relaxed. A little too relaxed, perhaps. He was reclining, bare feet up on the desk, and decked out in a comfortable-looking brown suit and pants set, complete with checkered tie. He looked as if he ruled the world, and the smirk on his face as he smoked from a thick, piping cigar only cemented this.
Pinky didn't think he looked that old - fifty, maybe? Around the same age as Brain. But he also didn't want to be disrespectful, and so he moved tepidly forward, his steps more of a shuffle than a walk, Olivia sliding along a couple paces behind him. Now that she was actually in the room, she didn't feel quite so brave.
"I hear you've arranged something of a party," the golden hamster addressed Pinky. "I must say, I'm quite intrigued. We haven't had an employees-only gathering in four years! I'm impressed you managed to pull it off."
"Th-Thank you, Headmaster," Pinky mumbled.
"Please. Call me Snowball," the hamster said gentlemanly, holding up a hand. "No need for formalities. And who might you be?" he asked Olivia, leaning over a little, the better to see her.
"O-O-Olivia, Sir."
"Olivia. You know, the name 'Olivia' comes from the word 'olive'. The olive tree is a symbol of peace and fertility, something we all hope to breed in this school. Fertile minds; obedient pupils. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Y-Yes, Sir," Olivia agreed, although, privately, she didn't understand what he was getting at at all.
"Please, Mr. Snowball, we've come to you with a request," Pinky interrupted, holding up the petition.
"Oh?" Snowball answered, cocking an eyebrow as he took a long, steady swig from the cigar and blew out an impressive ring. Olivia watched it float around the room, intrigued despite herself. It collided upon the chalkboard and disintegrated in a soft huff.
"It's a petition for a new baseball stadium," Pinky continued, holding out the paper for Snowball to take, which he did, looking it over without much interest. "We got two hundred and seventy-one signatures! I... hope that's enough?"
Only now did Pinky realize that he was twisting his tail in his paws something terrible, leaving little creases in it. He stopped immediately. Olivia had been biting at her fingernails. She also stopped as soon as she saw Pinky do so.
"So... you want me... to sign off on this?" Snowball asked, tossing a rather deadpan look in Pinky's direction.
Pinky gulped.
"Is that... all right? A lot of your students would love to have this back on the grounds! You'd be able to develop a team to compete with the other schools. We could win trophies and good sports reputation!"
"And it would be a P.E. class to add to your curriculum," Olivia added. Pinky smiled at her, impressed.
"Yes! Absolutely!"
"Hmph. You think people would go for this drivel? Two hundred signatures from a pool of three thousand is hardly enough to turn heads," he retorted, setting the petition down on the desk and pushing it towards them so hard that Pinky was thankful he was able to catch it before it clattered to the floor. "I must say, I'm not very impressed."
"B-But, it would do wonders for the school!" Pinky pleaded. "And Miss Olivia here worked so hard to get all the signatures. Didn't you, Olivia?"
"Yes, I did," she admitted, suddenly a bit bolder. Fight the dragon. Fight the dragon. "And you shouldn't be so retorshical. All the other schools have sports teams!"
Pinky gave her a side glance. Too far. Too far...
Olivia licked her lips, in-taking a deep breath for her next burn.
"I think you're scared."
And she put her hands on her hips, the better to complete the effect.
Pinky bit his lip. Olivia...
Snowball frowned. Slipping his feet off the table, he leaned fully forward over his desk, his face mere feet from Olivia's, and growled into her face: "I'm scared of nothing."
Olivia had closed one eye at this, the better to block out the dragon's harsh stare... and rancid breath. He even smoked like a dragon. But she stayed resolute.
"Then prove it!"
"Um... M-Mr. Snowball, if I may...?" Pinky barged in, desperate to fan the flames. It was bad enough she'd poked the dragon's eye in his own cave. They didn't need the fire, too. "Perhaps there's something... we could do for you in return? As a trade?"
That settled Snowball a little. He sat back in his chair, slightly amused.
"Hmph. What could you possibly offer to me?"
"Well, um... A special spot in the party, perhaps? Or a gift...? N-Narf..."
"No...," Snowball replied, waving it off and taking another smoke from his cigar.
"A... ticket to Disneyland?" Olivia offered helpfully.
"Pass."
"A... um... coupon for the world's biggest che-"
"Wait... Wait," Snowball said, cutting Pinky off. "The party, you said... Who's coming to the party?"
"Oh, um, everyone!" Pinky smiled nervously.
"Almost everyone...," Olivia mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms indignantly, but Pinky gave her a look that very clearly told her to shush or else.
"Will Globetrotter be there?"
"You mean Brain?" Pinky asked. "Oh... No, I don't think so. I invited him, but he... said he wouldn't make it."
"Brain? You call him Brain? Ha-ha!" Snowball laughed, actually clutching his chest as he reeled back in his chair. "Ha-ha! Ohhh, that's rich. I'll bet he just loves that."
Poor Pinky and Olivia didn't know what to say. They tried to laugh along, but it only came out sounding unbearably awkward, and so they stopped.
"My good fellow, you've convinced me. I'll sign your insipid little petition."
"Really?!" Pinky and Olivia bother spurted out at once, hardly daring to believe their ears.
"On one condition: Get dear 'Brain' to come to the party. It's been an age since I've seen him, you see, and I'd love to... catch up on things, as it were. Do that, and your stadium is as good as built."
Pinky and Olivia looked at one another. Convincing the most stubborn individual in the school to attend Pinky's party when he clearly wasn't interested wasn't going to be easy, but they'd come this far. Surely, they could try again... and again, if they had to? Wasn't the school worth that? Weren't the students worth it?
"Do we have a deal?" Snowball pressed them, a nasty smirk upon his sour face.
Olivia nodded at Pinky. Pinky nodded back. He looked Snowball straight in the eye.
"Deal," said Pinky.
"Deal," said Olivia.
And they shook hands with him, Snowball squeezing down a little too tightly.
"We have a bargain. I look forward to seeing him at the party. Hm hm. Brain. Ha! Oh, how positively affluent."
And they left him as such, cigar in hand, laughing his head off like an absolute maniac.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
7:24 PM
Dr. Brian T. Globetrotter snapped shut his weighted briefcase. He exited his classroom, shut the door, and locked it, as he always did. Another night; another opportunity to work in the lab. While he hadn't managed to get his magnet back, he'd certainly attended to other projects that required his attention. There was one he'd been quite eager to finish for some weeks. Tonight was the night.
Professor Ronald Pinkus opened his classroom door, but did not exit. Students first. A young boy mole stepped out of the classroom, his face still a little wet, but a smile tickling his face. He shuffled out into the hallway, Pinky and Olivia following him.
"Thank you, Mr. Pinkus," the diminutive mole said gratefully. "I wish my mom would listen to me like you do."
"Think nothing of it. Come by whenever you need to talk, okay?"
"Thank you, Sir." And, shyly, he stepped up and hugged him round the middle. "Please don't ever leave."
"I won't if I can help it, Toby," promised Pinky. "Promise."
"Come on, Toby! We're late!" Olivia kindly signaled. At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Judson stood waiting for them.
With a last squeeze, Toby parted and waved good-bye, keeping his eyes on Pinky until he turned the corner and was lost from sight. Pinky continued waving, even after his student had disappeared. He smiled warmly and sighed, deeply and satisfactorily. Closing his classroom door, he walked down the hallway... and stopped as he heard the familiar ding of the elevator. He turned in the direction of the noise, blinking. This was the fourth time he'd caught Brain staying up late to do... whatever it was he did behind that wall in the basement. He'd been too nervous to follow him the last couple of times, seeing as he'd almost been caught initially, but... perhaps it couldn't hurt to take another peek?
Two minutes later saw a pair of loosely-tied sneakers tip-toeing down the stairwell, heading covertly in the direction of the basement. He stuck his nose around the corner. No sign of him. Already, Globetrotter had gained access into the secret lab, oblivious to the intruder whom had followed him to his private dungeon. Carefully, he stepped towards the wall where he knew a hidden panel rested. Had he been a bit more observant, he might have noticed something following him this time - a camera, set high up in a far corner of the hall, small enough to not draw too much attention to itself, yet following his every move all the same.
Pinky pressed an ear up to the wall, listening intently. He didn't even bother with the panel this time; he knew it wouldn't open for him. Sure enough, he heard clinking and clanking and the occasional typing of what sounded like computer keys echoing through the room beyond, barely audible, but still within his range of hearing.
"Naughty naughty, Brain," Pinky whispered to himself. "What are you doing back there...?"
Suddenly, the noises stopped. No clinking. No clanking. No typing of keys. Pinky froze. He pressed his ear ever harder to the door. Last time this happened, he'd been able to pick up the tell-tale sign of footsteps heading for the door, but this time he heard nothing. Perhaps Brain had sat down to read a book? He almost stopped breathing, listening as hard as he possibly could...
HISSSS!
Without any warning, the door slid open, Pinky giving way as he fell to the ground, one half of his body inside the lab, the other half still laying out in the basement hallway.
"AH-HA! So it was you!" Globetrotter exclaimed, his anger unmistakable as he grabbed Pinky by the shirt collar and, with surprising strength, tossed him full on into the room, the door sliding shut behind him.
Pinky shuffled up onto his feet in haste and backed up towards the opposite wall, slamming into a metallic shelving unit full of jars, beakers, and other unusual things he couldn't put a name to. Globetrotter was advancing towards him, looking positively livid as he brandished what looked to be an X-Acto knife at him. Forget Snowball. He could handle that. This was terrifying.
"Completely innocent. HA! I knew you were up to something as soon as I saw that pencil outside my door last week. What are you after? What concoction of mine have you been looking to pilfer?!"
"I-I..! N-Nothing, Brain! I didn't even know about this place until last week! Honest!"
"HA! A likely tale. For all I know, you could have known about this lab since you got here; perhaps even applied because of your knowledge of this facility. Are you a spy? A NASA scientist? Who are you working for?!"
By this point, he was full on in Pinky's personal bubble, a hand practically choking Pinky by the tie as he brandished the X-Acto knife under his chin threateningly. Poor Pinky was near tears.
"I'm not a spy! Honest, Brain! Really I'm not! Please don't turn me into mince meat!" he begged, holding his hands up to shield his face as best he could, a near impossibility, seeing as Globetrotter was so invasive. Nevertheless, the rabid teacher loosened his grip a little.
"You swear you didn't know about this place until recently...?"
"Mmhm!" Pinky nodded fervently, his face full on wet, eyes shut tight as he tried, and failed, to keep the tears at bay.
"Hmph..." Brain conceded, grip loosening further. Well... fine. But don't touch anything! Understand?"
Another fervent nod, eyes still closed, and Globetrotter released him. Pinky clutched at his neck, gasping for breath as he rubbed at the spot where the tie had pulled on him. He rubbed at his eyes, the better to wipe away his pitiful tears.
"Wh-What is this place...?" he choked out, still catching his breath.
"My laboratory," Globetrotter replied stiffly, hopping into his computer chair and proceeding to continue in his voracious typing. "Don't touch anything."
Pinky nodded, even though Globetrotter couldn't see him. Don't touch anything. Already, he wanted very much to tickle the top of a very brown, very fuzzy-looking object sitting on a shelf near the entrance, but he honored Globetrotter's request. He didn't say he couldn't look at anything, however, and so Pinky looked, eyes wide in astonishment as he meandered about the strange facility.
It wasn't a terribly large area, but what he'd managed to fit inside of it was impressive. There were shelves of bottles, papers, strange electrical appliances, various scientific and artistic tools, rows and rows of books, and two computers, one of which Globetrotter was currently working at. A ghostly green glow hung from a double row of long lights recessed into the ceiling above, the emerald hue occasionally peppered with a soft, yellow light from a table lamp here or there. Even in this room Brain had to have his mahogany, it seemed, that being reserved for the bookshelf. But the most intriguing item in the room, by far, was a large, bubbling... something. It looked somewhat like a giant beaker, albeit a bit more bulbous, and with long tubes branching off here or there, like the stretched arms of a huge, metallic octopus. Inside bubbled some greenish concoction. Pinky wondered what it was, and tapped at the glass curiously.
"I said don't touch anything," Globetrotter warned without turning his head.
"Oh. Sorry...," Pinky apologized, taking a step back. "What is it?"
"It's for my latest plan."
"W-What plan is that, Brain?"
Brain sighed, pushed himself away from the desk, and stood up out of his rolling chair to stare at Pinky.
"If I tell you, you must solemnly swear not to spread a word about this to anyone," he breathed threateningly. If Pinky really was as big of an idiot as he appeared, he'd actually keep his mouth shut and not tell the authorities. Strangely, he was probably the only individual in the entire school whom he could trust to keep quiet. Knowing someone this daft had its perks, he supposed.
Pinky nodded and raised a hand, as if taking an oath.
"I promise, Brain!"
"Hmph. Fine. I'm planning... to take over the world!"
He said this in a flourish, hands raised in ecstasy. Pinky wouldn't have been surprised if lightning had shot out of nowhere at such a forward gesture. He'd never seen Brain this passionate before.
"The... whole world, Brain?" Pinky gasped, incredulous.
"Of course," the scientist replied, tucking his hands behind his back. "This Earth has been in a state of turmoil for years. With my genius intellect and general prowess, I'd be able to make it a better place - create a richer, more fulfilling existence for people to live in."
"Ohhhhhh! You mean like charity work! Right, Brain? Better places for people to live and all that? Good food; warm homes; happy little children playing in the yard with their puppies!" Pinky voiced, hands clasped together against his cheek as he grinned widely at the thought. "Oh! And better school systems! And no more people getting hurt. And plenty of money for everyone!"
"Why, yes, Pinky, that's... exactly what I'm talking about. With... the occasional adjustment here or there, of course."
"Like what?"
"Oh, you know... A specific rule set for people to abide by. Recognizing me as their leader. World peace. That sort of thing..."
"Sooooo... sponsorship then?"
"Um. Sure... If... that's what you want to see it as."
"Well, I think that's just wonderful, Brain!"
"Y-You do...?"
"Well, of course!" Pinky continued, prancing about the room now, not at all shy about toying with a test tube or a Newton's cradle. For once, Brain didn't stop him. "We all could use a better place to live in! Peace and love for everyone! That's what I teach every day, Brain."
"Do you?"
"Of course. If I'd known about this place earlier I would have supported you a long time ago! Although, I don't know why you have to hide it all down here. Don't you want everyone to know what good you're planning on doing for the Earth?" Pinky asked, shrugging confusedly.
"U-Uhm... Well, it has to be a secret. If anyone knew about this, they'd... probably try to stop me," Globetrotter fumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"Why?"
"Well, you know... Taking over the world. It's... not exactly a normal thing to put on one's "to-do" list."
"Well, it should be!" Pinky retorted, hands on his hips. "If everyone was as kind as you the world would be a better place!"
Just then, Pinky gasped, struck with a sudden idea.
"What?" Brain asked, a touch worried.
"Brain! What if we keep it a secret until allllll of your plans are ready, and then we surprise everyone with a big, save-the-world party!"
"Ummm... S-Sure! That's... kind of what I had in mind, actually."
"Egad! It's brilliant! I'll handle all the party preparations when the time comes, don't worry. I'll get balloons and decorations and... OH! Cake! We have to have cake, Brain! But will two hundred cakes be enough to feed everyone?"
"Pinky...?" Brain asked tentatively. "You... promise you won't tell anyone about this, right?"
"Of course not, Brain," Pinky said matter-of-factly, waving a hand. "I mean, you did almost kill me back there, but now I see that you just didn't want to spoil the surprise!"
"So... no blabbing?"
"My lips are sealed, Brain," he promised, making a "zipping" motion across his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. "But only if you'll let me help!"
He meant it in jest, partially. Even if Brain said no, he still would honor his request to keep the secret a secret, but Brain took it literally. He sighed, facepalming. Positives and negatives, he supposed.
"All right. Fine. But just... stay out of the way as best you can, all right?"
"Promise!" Pinky swore, beaming. "Um... do you mind if I hang around here for a little while?"
Brain narrowed his eyes at him. Just because they were now technically partners in crime didn't mean that he wanted Pinky hanging around any longer than he needed to. Then again, it wasn't as if letting him stay a bit longer would hurt anything.
"Just as long as you keep your paws off my lab."
"Yippee!" Pinky exclaimed, jumping once up into the air before reengaging in deep exploration of the room.
Brain sighed, turned back around, and planted his caboose firmly back in the computer chair. Every now and then he'd pause in his typing to stare curiously at Pinky as he looked at everything in the lab, trying his darndest not to lift a finger as Globetrotter had asked. Brain rolled his eyes, finally consenting.
"Fine. You can touch the books. But be careful with them," he warned.
"Oh, thank you, Brain! I won't rip a page!"
"You'd better not...," Brain mumbled under his breath.
Pinky sifted through the books, eventually finding one he liked and sitting down cross-legged on the floor, such as a child might during reading time. Brain shook his head at this. A past conversation came to mind...
"You're also the only other person who's still around at night when I go home late. It... makes me feel a little less lonely."
He stared at Pinky once more, head cocked to the side questioningly, before turning back to his work. The lanky newcomer was, undoubtedly, an annoyance. He was oxymoronic, incredibly daft, and a thorn in Brain's side. Things hadn't been quite the same at the school since he'd arrived. He was a pest that eventually needed to be eradicated. And yet, as Brain sat there, listening to the soft turning of the pages behind him, with the occasional 'ooo' or 'ahhh' complimenting a particularly good part of the book, he had to admit that the presence of someone else in the room, someone kind and nonjudgmental and supportive, made him feel a little less lonely, too.
-------------
Author's Notes:
- My dad used to own (and probably still does) one of those big briefcases with the locking mechanisms on them. I always enjoyed watching him fiddle with the combination and pop open the case. Of course, now-a-days, briefcases are pretty much a thing of the past, but I still think about that big ol' thing and its locks sometimes.
- The line "... in public, Brain?" is a reference to a very similar quote from one of the original Pinky and the Brain episodes, in which Brain asks Pinky to do something simple and Pinky, misunderstanding, replies with: "Brain? In public?"
- Marvell is an original OC created by Black Geeky Girl, whom you can find on Twitter and Tumblr.
- The line "positively affluent" is a reference to a PatB-themed story of the same name on AO3 that also features Snowball. Please look it up and read it. It's awesome.
- The ending is, admittedly, a bit rushed, and I struggled with the subtext of the laboratory scene. I'm not certain how apparent it is or not, but, if you don't get what I'm going for, all the better I suppose, as you'll be just as surprised as Pinky in a future chapter.
- This is my favorite chapter so far. I had a blast composing this.
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tabbyrp · 3 years
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{Tropes in the Wild West, part 4} {Cont from [x]} @brooklynislandgirl​  @tarnishedhalo
Sleeping in the saddle required two things: skill and a steady horse. Sam considered himself reasonably adept at the fine art of riding and Red Wing, in his humble opinion, was one of the finest mares to grace the lands. Rattlesnakes didn’t spook her in the slightest. Streaks of lighting could split the heavens while thunder roared, and it would barely raise a flick of the mare’s tail. Not that her resilience in that regard had been tested lately. Along each step of this ride, started a goodly time before the first cock’s crow and continuing well past the sun’s zenith, the sky stayed clear and the ground bone dry, dust kicking up with each strike of the hoof. A current flicker of wind sent a near hand’s worth of grit straight up Sam’s nose, made him sneeze violently, and dragged him out from the otherwise pleasant doze. 
As the cowboy righted himself, drawing brim of hat higher to survey his surroundings, it became possible the horse had roused him on purpose. They had reached the stretch of trail which led a winding path to the Riley stead, beaten down over the years by equestrian hooves, plodding cattle, and the occasional trip by cart or wagon. Sam knew it well, even if lately he had not travelled it as often as he should, matters between him and Riley being ever complicated since the incident. Complicated, but not uncivil. As horse and rider trotted towards the house, Riley was there to greet them, the setting sun causing two waiting glasses of whiskey to ascend into sparking gold.
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Later, Sam reclined in one of the family’s chairs, still plump with padding despite a long journey from the old country. His stomach was full from a hearty meal and weary bones found comfort in the stillness. Miss Beth and the other guest had both retired gracefully once the plates were cleared, disappearing with lanterns and laughter that spoke of a secret joke between them. Sam was none the wiser as to how Miss Tabitha had come to be part of the residence. An innocent inquiry over dinner had been deferred by Riley and enforced with that certain set to his posture. The one that taught men quickly to keep civil tongues in their heads about Miss Beth. Miss Tabitha appeared to raise his same guard dog hackles, though Sam was wise enough to resist laying bait to see what Riley would bite over. 
Their previous partnership had worked well for numerous reasons, one being Sam’s calm balance to Riley’s strong will. Caution tempering boldness, except for when those bold choices were exactly what the situation required, and Riley had always been willing to lead the charge. Fearless was how Sam had viewed his friend from the first moment they met, two young bucks about to learn how this wild land needed to be treated.  Now, Riley appeared weary as he poured them both a fresh glass of imported drink, one that Sam took a light sip from, lest he give in to temptation and fall asleep right then and there. 
Perhaps Riley took pity on him after the long journey, for he skipped the polite type of conversation that would involve asking how the cattle were faring and what the other cowboys had been doing whenever granted free time to carouse in the township. “Now that the ladies are gone to bed, are you going to explain why you’re really here? I know you miss my cooking and the wit of my conversation, but it’s a long journey for one meal.” 
There… there…  beneath the crooked smile, lingered a ghost of the Riley he remembered. It hurt Sam in the chest, for he was about to snuff it out before the flame had time to grow. “We’ve got trouble at the ranch.” He gave Riley the due respect by facing him square on, as was right when about to ask a man for aid. “The kind that only you and your sister know how to deal with.” 
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They left the following morning. The two men had spent time in discussion about the safest mode of transportation. A small wagon was slower, though it had advantages should anything untoward happen out on the trail and they needed to defend the women. Riley was prepared to begin greasing the axles when Miss Beth emerged from the stables, her steed in a trot while she led another by the reins. Miss Tabby, being from the town and used to working on her feet instead of in a saddle, had clutched the pommel tight to keep from lurching off, though she carried a grit of determination that Sam could find respect for.
Both were dressed ready to travel, supplies and bags strapped securely in place, with Miss Beth making statements implying that the men should hurry up before they were left behind. Riley was none too pleased, that much was plain, but arguing would only waste more daylight. Even a horse whipped until bloody could not complete the journey between sunup and sundown. Making camp at night always carried a risk, although there were certain spots on the plains where lingering too long meant not rising come the dawn, and Sam had no intention of becoming grub food. Not today, at least. 
Compared to Red Wing, with her steadfast nature, Sam’s friends favoured more spirited equines. Riley needed only a light squeeze of thighs to send Sally into a rocking canter, man and horse in perfect unison as they scouted ahead for trouble. Miss Beth’s gelding was a restless creature, endlessly flicking his mane and resisting the reins, keen to break free from a plodding walk. On occasion she split off, never travelling far, mostly to examine a particular shrub or other object of interest. While the brother and sister pair were absent, Sam and Miss Tabby engaged in idle conversation. He learned she was not a whore, despite a residence at the saloon, and nothing more about what bound her to the other. For all Miss Tabitha demurred, she did so with a warmth that few white women ever offered Sam. 
Miss Tabitha’s charisma, however, took a dent when it came time to stop for the day. After horses were fed and a fire stoked to life, she insisted on breaking off pieces of her dried apple and depositing them outside the edge of the stone circle which Miss Beth and Riley had lain around their camp. Protests about attracting animals landed on deaf ears. Even after the ladies fell asleep, huddled together nose-to-nose beneath woollen blankets, Riley suggested Sam leave things be. So, he did, until a pair of ruby red eyes appeared in the shadows and four claws, scythe shaped like a barn cat if not so large and twice as thick, dug into the offering.
Sam looked away, deciding it best  if he saw no more if he were to cede to his friend’s request for restraint. Already a part of him screamed to wrench a log from the fire and strike the cursed creature away into the blackened landscape, if not send it screeching back to the hell from whence it came. “It’s gone now.” Riley’s low, steady voice drew him away from those malignant urges, and indeed, when he glanced towards the darkness, nothing stared back at him.
“Is she like you?” Sam’s question hung in the air. Riley sighed, reaching to toss another fistful of kindling into the fire before standing.
“You can take first watch.” The man clapped his shoulder, unapologetic for everything, and made his bed beside his sister. Stars spread across the night sky and a chill carried in the air, making it hardly scandalous for Riley to roll onto his side and tuck in behind Miss Beth, trapping in the warmth of her body. A few hours later, when it came time for Sam to stretch and rouse his companion, he equally made no mention of how Riley’s hand had drifted during slumber, one arm draped heavily over his sister and a lock of Miss Tabby’s hair twisted around his fingers.
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The remainder of their journey passed quick enough, the foursome covering ground faster than Sam may otherwise have predicted. He estimated it barely an hour past midday when they crossed the invisible property border to the cattle ranch which he called home. Previous plans for expansion in both land and numbers were currently postponed. Waiting for better weather, the current herd needing all their attention in an endless hunt for blades of grass still holding moisture. A dam and her offspring had wandered away from the rest, nosing at the ground as the group rode past. Sam would have to round her up at some point. There were other matters to attend to, and Riley had expressed his desire to deal with those sooner rather than later. 
Further within the boundary, while far away from everything else, stood a corral. The small collection of wooden beams and panels nailed tight together, if certain slants to joints suggesting a hasty assembly. Remaining atop their horses, Sam led them closer. Slowly, cautiously, for even steady Red Wing gave a nicker of protest at the approach. One of the other ranch hands had draped a circle of rope at roughly a yard’s distance from the enclosure, locking it down with heavy iron nails.  That was where Sam halted them. Close enough for a clear assessment, far enough for safety. 
It took a moment or two for the dozen bovines within to notice their presence. Leathery heads lifted, empty eye sockets unseeing and gaunt nostrils sucking in the air. Their hair was gone, every last strand, leaving behind bleached skin that clung to gaunt bones. Unlike the docile mother cow they had passed, these creatures shivered and swayed, endlessly shifting their weight from one spindly leg to the other. The largest of them rocked forward, pressing up against the fence. It licked the air with a decaying tongue, got a proper taste of the observers, and gave a guttural howl. Two more went flank to flank with the leader, catching the scent. Sinewy necks extended towards Sam and the others as far as captivity allowed, falling short, yet still teeth flashed as jaws snapped wildly, bone clicking against bone. 
Miss Beth and Riley exchanged a look, the elder saying something under his breath. Sam possessed enough experience catching his friend’s muttered comments to piece together this one. It’s spreading. Riley  raised his voice to ask what methods they had tried to dispose of the creatures with, impassive while Sam listed off lead bullets, noxious poisons, and an attempt with an axe which left the wielder with a broken arm. “Take Tabitha up to the quarters.” Issuing what was more order than request, Riley dismounted with his old engraved pistol in hand, his sister following and starting to unstrap certain bags from her saddle. “And bring a few strong men back with you, along with some shovels.” Being dismissed caused a protest from Miss Tabby, and it took another terse, private conversation between her and Riley until the lady relented. 
Perhaps it was none of his business. Still, as he and Miss Tabby rode away from the corral, Sam took in the downcast twist to her expression, and said in a tone of someone making merely a passing mention, “He’s only like that with people he cares about.” She sighed, lips parting as if to reply, but whatever she may or not have intended to say was cut off by the sound of a single gunshot ringing through the air. A high-pitched scream, bestial and ferocious, came after, then another crack of the gun. Miss Tabitha covered her ears and Sam took her reins, leading the horse with the sounds of death following close behind.
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anangelicday-mrwolf · 3 years
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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)
(previous chapter)
Chapter 69 – Would You Take My Hand Now? 
“Man, I knew I was born with insight. And I knew you, sir, would pull this off like...” 
“Shut up.” 
“So you can't cope with compliments when they come from me? Did anybody ever tell you what comes around goes around? That applies to the manner of speech, you know?” 
“Then allow me to rephrase myself. I would so very viciously appreciate it if you could please zip those teeth of yours.” 
“...You might want to drop the manners, if that's how you're gonna use them.” 
“I'll be happy to. Shut your pie hole.” 
Despite being the victim of Frankenstein's curses-without-curses for 3 times in a row, Muzaka did nothing to bite back at him. 
Few days ago, he received report from Frankenstein and Lukedonia in relay of the situations from Seoul and nobles, respectively. 
And earlier in the morning, Frankenstein revealed himself in the werewolf realm without anybody's notice, to demand Muzaka to lead the way to the lab. 
As flustered as the werewolf lord was, the blonde human seemingly very inclined to drag him towards the lab if he were not to comply, he had never been so happy to have an uninvited guest. 
Because he could think of only one reason why Frankenstein would sneak into his domain to head straight to the lab - diagnosis and hopefully treatment on the mystery of his body's automated refuge during the nuclear missile incident. 
And Frankenstein, based on the research files from Ignes he had obtained in advance and the results from his treatment on Yuigi, eliminated to perfection the nanochips in Muzaka's head. 
A process during which Frankenstein wore that menacing, sinister looks from beginning to the end, which derived from Muzaka's testament on the behind-the-scenes through which Crombel's nanochips nestled inside his body. 
He was aware of the fact that Muzaka had once stayed under Crombel's hospitality, but he has never got a chance to learn what exactly he had been up to with Crombel during the time. 
And as soon as he was hit by the comprehension that Muzaka provided himself as a test subject for the dead doctor, Frankenstein held a show of how to directly bombard someone's head with every curse available in human language, minus any syllable that is definitely not meant for the underaged audience. 
Muzaka knew he was guilty; now he understood how the Crombel's suggestion he had regarded as a give-and-take deal turned into more-than-troublesome sword and shield against Frankenstein and the RK during their final showdown. 
Hence the werewolf lord assumed a silent rock this time. 
He doubted Frankenstein would accept an excuse that he had no idea Crombel would develop a weapon to control 1st Elder out of the nanochips he was planted with. 
Notwithstanding, Muzaka was a werewolf of manners. 
His personality and conscience did not let him forget his gratitude.
“Thanks, Frankenstein. I owe you big. So does Adne. Don't you agree?”
Muzaka peeked at Adne, who had finally risen from his bed. 
During his treatment of Yuhyung at Seoul, Frankenstein picked up from his patient that Adne fell unconscious due to the gas he concocted. 
While he was treating Muzaka, he injected into Adne the antidote he brewed with Yuhyung's recipe. 
Thus Adne opened his eyes, and even though he was advised not to force himself back on his feet just yet, he was watching how Frankenstein was wrapping up Muzaka's treatment, from which he could always learn something, according to him. 
“Oh, and I still remember our deal. I will grant you one... I mean, two wishes that you have, no matter what it takes.” 
Frankenstein's memory was just as fresh. 
He had marked that Muzaka owe him two wishes - one from their deal regarding the latter's body state, and one from his request regarding Lunark's affection. 
And Frankenstein already knew how he would expend the two wishes, before which, however, was something he must go through. 
Which required more than his power. 
He was reminding himself that it is about time for his helper to arrive, when the door slid open. 
The resonance of footsteps raised its volume, like the set of notes on a piano, and he spun on his heels as the final footstep waltz-rolled into his heart. 
And he was met with Lunark's face, not as startled as he had expected, although she did look as if she were faced with a person she had envisioned as deceased. 
He was met with her pink pupils, wide open and spilling alarm from their cores, and her half-open lips. 
The lips he once held in his own. 
As Frankenstein kept himself busy, choking the outburst of suggestive images in his head, Muzaka greeted his warrior. 
“You're back! You did good, Lunark. You did really good. What are you waiting for, Frankenstein? Shouldn't you thank your savior?” 
Muzaka speared the air with his nose, copycating a father showing off his proud daughter. 
Frankenstein gazed at him with annoyed, questioning eyes before he nodded. 
“I'll do that. While I'm at it, let me borrow her for a minute.” 
“...Say what?” 
Lunark and Muzaka sang in unison as they gaped at Frankenstein.
“It won't take long. So excuse me, but excuse me.”
Frankenstein did not even finish his sentence before his arm extended itself towards its target, and the next moment Lunark was tiptoeing her way out of the lab, caught by Frankenstein's hand. 
Muzaka and Adne could only stare at the door, dumbstruck by the event that befell in the speed of light. 
“Couldn't you at least give us a hint what this is about?” 
*****
'Why are we here?' 
Lunark flung her eyes about her, unable to settle down. 
Yet she could only retrieve her eyes at the pink poking her eyes. 
She and Frankenstein happened to be standing in the sea of wolfsbanes, the site that held the memoir of their first kiss still oscillating with gorgeous pink. 
Because of which Lunark could simply fumble in silence, lost in the details of the disaster from the past. 
And that was a cue for Frankenstein to begin. 
“First of all, thanks.” 
“Uh... What's that?” 
“Thanks for saving me at Lukedonia.” 
“O-oh... D-don't mention it.” 
“And sorry.” 
“A-about what...?” 
“You had to go through all that trouble because of me. And I almost killed you. Not to mention you had to break your long-lived bow.” 
“Uh... Oh... You mean the fact that I accepted the Noblesse's power and therefore broke my bow that I shall nurture my natural-born power without any experiment or body modification? Don't be sorry. I knew what I was doing, and I have no regrets whatsoever. Even if I were to go back in time, I would have made the same choice, although I have to admit that was the only option available for me back then. And, uh... No need to be sorry that you almost killed me. It wasn't you. It was the Dark Spear.” 
A hurried array of excuses naturally rendered Lunark speechless, which did not bring the same effect upon her company.
“When I drank the tonic with the components altered by 3rd Elder...” 
Days were not enough to dilute his nightmarish memories from the time.
The moment he downed the liquid, he could feel sleep - no, he could feel vertigo looming towards him, giving no time at all for him to look for a spare awakening or tonic. 
Like a tumult of unstoppable torrent from a dam cracked, the tsunami of sleep he had been long forcing in imprisonment engulfed him. 
He could feel the Dark Spear screaming in glee even before he blacked out. 
The weapon was screaming, Now it's all over!!! 
As he felt his legs and eyelids giving in, the best and the most he could do was picturing a series of faces. 
Raizel. 
M-21, Takio, and Tao. 
Regis and Seira. 
Gechutel, Karious, Rael. 
Razark, Rayga, and Tesamu. 
And...... 
Lunark. 
Soundlessly shrieking out her name was the last thing he did before his mind slipped away from his grasp. 
“That was when I realized how distinct my feelings have grown. I realized that my feelings for you can no longer stay unspoken.” 
As Frankenstein was stitching the air with a now-I-don't-care-whatever-happens tone, Lunark was still quiet. 
This time, however, she could not speak up.
'Did I hear correctly...? Frankenstein loves me...?!' 
Clutching tightly to her heart that had been fluttering like petals dancing in the moonlight since who-knows-when, Lunark kept attentive to Frankenstein's speech. 
“I knew what my heart was telling me, but I could only play deaf. The Dark Spear in me has grown powerful enough to jeopardize my control, after it took over Crombel and his Blood Stone. I was afraid it will hurt those dear to me... I was afraid it will hurt you. But thanks to you, it has lost the Blood Stone and became tame enough -somewhat - so now I have no more reason to avoid you. And most importantly, my master told me this. We should live our lives to the fullest during the time given to us, without any regret. We must look into our hearts to determine what it is that we really want. And we must make a choice for ourselves.” 
Sounds just like something from a soul born with eternal time but bound to the burdens of Noblesse, thought Lunark as she nodded. 
“And as I came up with your name in the course of my possession by the Dark Spear... I felt regret burning like hellfire inside me. I kept lamenting, if only I were honest with my feelings for just a little. If only I could at least give a signal of my feelings for you. Back then I'd thought my future is no more, so I'd thought I'll be losing you and the rest of my people.”
Lunark's lips were fastened seamlessly as she took in Frankenstein's voice, now turned into a whisper. 
For she had gone through something similar rather recently. 
When she was pouring Raizel's power into Frankenstein's body via kiss, she did not think about what will break beyond that point. 
The only thing she could think of was saving Frankenstein.
Ironically, at the corner of her brain she could view a list of highlights from her life. 
The list of every word and time she shared with Frankenstein, ever since they first met as enemies at Seoul. 
Her survival instinct screeched at her that she can no longer carry or cumulate these memories, which left bitter regrets in her heart for a second. 
She regretted that she did not confess her feelings or make more memories with him. 
And here she was, figuring out that Frankenstein had felt the same regret that had haunted her. 
His feelings were the same, so she could feel tiny expectation bloating like a balloon. 
“And recently, I almost lost you. I almost lost myself. I almost lost everything I treasure... And I shall have no more regrets.” 
So you mean...? 
Lunark could only reiterate the question stuck in her throat, when Frankenstein at last turned his eyes towards her. 
“You might be disappointed in me, since I've been staying single for more than 820 years. Nevertheless, would you take my hand now?” 
Frankenstein's confession was quite direct, truthful to his claim of being single for more than 8 centuries, which was regardless faded in the feathery texture of his voice and the heart-melting perfume from Lunark's cardiac muscle. 
Which was why Lunark let out a relaxed sigh of laughter in reply. 
“I could say the same thing. I had no reason at all to familiarize myself with romance so far... Why would you opt for a terrifying woman like me?”
“Because you're terrifying. Or should I say fiery?” 
Lunark did not expect him to remember the semi-jest she threw at him during their first encounter. 
She could once again revel at how deep her love is, feeling no cringe at all at his delicacy, and her hand was bound by a quintet of huge, slender fingers. 
“Which reminds me, isn't this near the spot we had our first kiss?”
A sentence was more than enough to drown Lunark's cheeks with streaks of red like bombs, and Frankenstein smirked. 
“The first one was an accident. And the second one was stolen by the Dark Spear, during a situation that will allow no chance in hell for a romantic mood... Which is why this time I'll do it myself.”
What?! H-hold on a sec!! 
The man did not spare a second for her to stop him. 
As outgoing as he is, his arm was weighed with strength just as audacious, and its mind-blowing aftermath soon took over Lunark's lips. 
And the werewolf was swept in the impression that the entire blood in her body was drawn to her lips. 
For each of strokes and rubs Frankenstein's mouth made, a rumbling noise one would hear from a freight train spread from her lips throughout her wholesome form, to raise full blooms of elation to every corner and plain of her body, not a speck to be left desolate. 
Lunark's hands, wobbling between sweetness and daze, soon secured themselves onto Frankenstein's chest, to slowly wind across his shoulders and around his neck. 
The two figures basked in the kiss more electrical than the first and more ecstatic than the second, while the pink petals of wolfsbanes surrounding them rippled like dancers blessing them. 
*****
A follow-up on their fluffy-soft and flowery-perfumed kiss in declaration of love, Frankenstein put on that signature full-of-poise smile of his. 
“Now it's time for us to deal with the remaining obstacles. But first thing first - I need you to get changed.” 
He pulled out from his jacket a white dress shirt, meticulously squared and folded in a clean bag of plastic. 
“Sorry. I know I should've brought a brand new one, but I have no knowledge of your accurate size. So I had to opt for one from my own closet. And don't worry. It's washed.” 
Lunark took the bag from him, locking her teeth from spilling that if it is from his collection, he is practically rewarding her. 
“But you'll have to grab one from your possessions as for the fabrics to cover your lower appendages. And it'd better be something comfortable for you to move in.” 
“Uh... Sure. But why would you offer this out of the blue...?”
Her eyes twitched in puzzlement, earning from Frankenstein an unexpressed pleasure of witnessing her loveliness, and he smirked and retorted with a brief explanation. 
“...What?!” 
And Lunark could once again realize how outgoing her man could be, as she rolled her eyes in bewilderment. 
(next chapter)
At last, ladies and gentlemen, Frankenstein and Lunark are official in my fic! XD It took 69 chapters for them to be together, but guess what - next chapter will be the final chapter for this fic. :P
As for Raizel’s advice mentioned in the middle of this chapter, I made a reference to the theme message from the original webtoon during its early seasons. We must live our lives to fullest during the time designated to us, making choices by ourselves and for ourselves. Back when the webtoon was ongoing, the only impression I got was that it sounds good to me, but nowadays as days pass and seasons change, I’m growing to agree with this idea more and more. Which is why I personally wanted to make a reference to this message in my fic.
Anyways, next chapter will be the final chapter for this fic. I’d like to say you’ve been doing an amazing job of keeping up with me so far, and I’d like to ask you to please stay with me for just one more week. Thanks so much! :)
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nymphigeon · 4 years
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From me, to you || 05
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♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader
♤ Words: 2.3k
♤ Rating: PG-13
♤ Warnings (for this chapter): swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of hybrid abuse, mention of decomposition, mentions of murder (stabbing), mentions of gambling, mention of a sex club.
♤ A/N: Not super proud of this chapter, but I didn’t know any way to make it better. Hope you enjoy anyways!
Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.
Series masterlist
04 05 06
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It takes a solid 15 minutes before Taehyung has completely calmed down. All this time I’ve been holding him close, waiting for his sobs to die down. Despite Taehyung visibly relaxing more as time went by, his ears still lay somewhat flat atop his head.
“Feeling better?” There is no response for a while, but I know he heard me. Eventually he nods, just a tiny tilt of his head, but a nod nonetheless. He makes no move to sit up though, still leaning against my frame. If it wasn’t for him sniffing now and then, I would’ve thought he fell asleep.
So long he doesn’t want me to go I won’t. Thus I keep holding him, expecting him to push me away on his own when he doesn’t need my embrace anymore. I don’t mind holding him like this, I just want the bad memories to be forgotten about. Best case scenario would be his past disappearing from existing. Though, sadly, this is no fairy tale.
Not everything will be okay in the end. The damage his heart and mind sustained will never be fully repaired. All I can do is glue the remaining pieces back together, searching for the lost bits as I go. Some may be lost forever, stomped into the ground, buried by layers of dead leaves and decomposing insects. Then I’ll make sure he creates his own, new pieces to replace the ones missing. He doesn’t need whatever other trampled over.
“Lee Ji-hyun.” It’s a soft whisper. If the room hadn’t been dead silent as it was, I would’ve missed it. I don’t respond, letting him talk as he wants. Giving him space to open up and expose himself.
“My owner, Lee Ji-hyun.” His voice contains a bit more confidence this time. I can’t say I’m not surprised at his words, I didn’t think I was going to get a name today after all. The movement of my hand rubbing his back stills for a second, resuming just as fast. It was only for a second, yet he must’ve still noticed it, as he gives me a sad chuckle.
“I was never the pet he wanted. I wasn’t like the brutal animals he heard about on tv. I’m not like the first tiger hybrid who killed his owner trying to escape.” He takes in a deep breath, almost like he’s trying to keep his hatred for the man that hurt him in check. Or maybe he’s on the verge of breaking down again.
“I don’t want to fight underground for illegally obtained money. I don’t want to walk two blocks to threaten your drug dealer for free cocaine. I don’t want to sleep with others just so you can throw money at the strippers you care so little about.” If he was truly trying to keep his hatred at bay, it failed. Years of bottled up anger spilling out, breaking the dam he built high himself.
“And if I refused I’d get hit, stomped on, tased, or if I was lucky I wouldn’t get food instead. I should’ve wanted to harm him. Why was he never scared he would be the receiver of my anger?” Taehyung’s hands tighten around my arms, trying to find a way to hold on to the strong front he has been putting up all this time. His voice has drastically raised in volume since he first started talking, close to shouting out all the words he kept to himself.
“He wanted to see me struggle against my chains, trying to rip him to shreds, growling with my eyes blown out. He would’ve laughed in my face as I try to kill him with my own bare hands, purposefully getting the whip out, making me so scared I’d lose all of my humanity.”
All of a sudden he sits up in my hold, not slipping away from my arms, but also not snuggling into me as much anymore. Once again I should’ve been scared of him, ripping myself away from him and running out the door to safety. I don’t. His irises show the well-known gold colour of the predator’s eyes, his canines having grown longer in size. On the edge of shifting, but all I can see is the broken boy inside. The one that just wants to get away.
“I couldn’t do it at the time. I laid still on the ground as the leather came down again and again. It hurt so much and I still didn’t try to attack him.” His eyes are full of unshed tears. Did he mean to tell me this? Did he finally have enough? Perhaps this was all a mistake, led by emotions he was never able to reveal. Whatever it is, he doesn’t stop. Sometimes silence is suffocating, uncertainty hanging in the air as the other does not respond. However, now my silence is encouraging him, filling the quietness with his rants.
“Despite having always been taught to be a pleasing puppet, I started disobeying him more and more.” This particular memory was still fresh, it hurt more than the others. His eyes cast downwards for a second, swallowing a lump in his throat, before finding mine again. I think he was debating on whether to continue. Do I look shocked? Indifferent? Sad?
I’ve heard confessions of crimes for years, probably seen ten times more emotional outbursts than most humans. I’ve learned not to get affected by them, only looking at the facts presented in the story being told. I have played the role of a supportive law enforcement worker more times than I can count, slowly manipulating the answer out of those who belong behind bars. Though I would never use that tactic on traumatized witnesses.
This time should be no different, but it is. I wonder if it’s because I’ve had more time to connect to him. Getting to know the person underneath all the insecurities. Possibly it could be the way hybrids have been tortured for years and now they can finally break free. Humans sympathize, I’m no different.
“He didn’t have the money for basic human necessities anymore as I was his only source of income at that point. He was the self-proclaimed kind of gambling, yet he lost the mountain of money he had to that exact same game.” Stopping myself from sinking further into my pity for him, I start connecting the strings while he talks. A gambling addict bought an expensive hybrid who didn’t do as he liked, so he sold him. Or at least tried to, but killed the client for whatever reason.
“One day he called up this hybrid auction place. After hearing he had a tiger hybrid the owner himself offered a ton of money.” Taehyung’s hands start to shake. A picture starts to form itself in my head, pieces falling together. I know what’s coming, but I don’t want to hear it. As soon as I do so my suspension will be confirmed, no room for doubt. As long as he doesn’t tell me, I can still pretend it never happened.
“He wanted to meet up with us. Somewhere where there would be no traces of hybrid dealing left behind, as it is obviously illegal. You should know.” I slowly nod at his words, I do know. “We met up at The Pink Collar, the club you…” He trails off, the confidence in his voice gone when he mentions the sex club.
After the incident, the police shut the business down. Not only was the club completely illegal, having no licences whatsoever, it just so happened that a lot of illegal dealings went on inside it as well. It was a popular meeting place for those who wanted some dirty money. If mister Lee really is a gambling addict, he most likely went there more than once.
“David, I think my owner called him, ended up bringing a lot less money than he initially offered. My owner got mad and…. Well, stabbed him.” The last part gets said a lot quieter than the rest of the sentence. A tear rolls down Taehyung’s cheek as he recalls the moment. Something in me stirs. I haven’t talked the entire time. Now that everything is falling into place though, I need to know the full story.
“What about the girl?” My voice is soft, I don’t want to upset him more. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, before answering. “She heard everything. She was so so scared, thrashing around in her restraints and screaming as best as she could with the gag. He couldn’t leave witnesses so he.. he did the same to her.”
I want to ask more, though I’m not sure if I should. I’m not like my supervisor who forces answers out. I’m diving into dangerous territory here.
As if he can read my mind, Taehyung nods, giving me a small smile. “It’s okay, ask me.” He wipes his eyes dry and nods once again, encouraging me to continue.
“What about you? Why did you do?” I didn’t mean to sound accusing. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t really catch on to the underlying question, answering before I can explain myself.
“Barely anything. When I did as much as try to get out my restraints he threatened to kill me too.” So he was tied up at the time too? I think back to the day I found him. He looks better now than he did before, although he still has a long way to go. I can imagine there was not much he could do, weak and terrified.
“And right after that you two left right?” Taehyung sits up completely now, letting my arms go and propping himself up against the wall. A few deep breaths and his eyes return to their normal brown colour, going back to looking exhausted rather than angry. “Yeah.”
If that’s all then why was Taehyung drenched in blood that day? Why was he alone at that playground? Thinking for a moment, I try to find the answer to it myself first, but nothing clicks. Taehyung tilts his head, silently questioning what caused the confusion displayed on my face.
“What happened after that?”
His head drops, hands clenching and unclenching against the fabric of his pants. “He took the money from David and left with me. Somewhere along our way back I had enough, I-” Scared that he’ll break through his own skin if he keeps his fists tightly closed, I am quick to put my hands on top of his. They don’t open up, but at least they relax a little. Hybrids are known to shift when in emotional distress. If his claws were to come out in this position then he-
“I jumped him from behind. Sunk my nails into his back and broke my leash in the process.” -he might scratch himself. It wasn’t him who got hurt at the time, but he who hurt. I’ve never believed in revenge being the answer, but Lee had that one coming. He was the one who wanted to create a rage filled tiger in the first place, well there he goes, wish fulfilled.
“Then you ran off?” Taehyung nods, pulling his hands away from under mine so he can wrap his arms around himself. His tail joins in the party, snugly held against his waist. This time it’s his ears that remain in their neutral position, listening to anything else I have to say.
“Will I get punished now?” The way he says it, is like he’s trying to sound unaffected, but in reality the idea scares him. For years that’s all he’s known, punishment after punishment. I want to be able to reassure him, to say that it’s all fine, but there is always the possibility of things not being fine. What will I do when that happens? Feel guilty, helpless?
So I tell him the truth. “If we can confirm that he really did abuse you with either a confession from your owner, verbal evidence of other witnesses, or stuff inside his home, you’ll most likely be fine. It depends on if the judge agrees with hybrid laws a lot of the time, though I’ll take care of that.” Just with a softer edge. I gave him the harsh reality wrapped in a pink fluffy blanket.
“You won’t be fired now right?”
I completely forgot about that. When my supervisor lashed out at me I had accepted her words, not thinking about the consequences a whole lot. “Well yeah, I guess not.”
I wonder if he was scared that I would get fired, if that’s the reason why he opened up. Selfishly, I want to believe that he told me because he trusts me more. Greedy, I am aware. No one has to know though, I won’t tell.
“C’mon, let’s get you back.” I stand, stretching out when I’m fully up. I regret not paying any attention to the position we were in, as my back is heavily complaining now that I’m back on my feet. Letting out a groan of satisfaction, I open my eyes, of which I didn’t know that I had them closed, and move to give Taehyung a hand. When I look at the ground however, he is no longer there. Instead, he already passed me on his way to the door, looking back to see if I was following. I smile sheepishly and take a quick few steps towards the door.
Remembering nothing can be left behind, I look around the room. Two chairs and a table, that’s it. Grey brick walls nobody wanted to paint line the sides, with a huge one way mirror at one side. All you can see is yourself and whoever came with you. Trapped, stuck with a grimacing police officer who doesn’t want to be there either. Thinking about it, this place is almost scarier than prison itself.
Looking closer at the table, I notice a blinking light. A small rectangular device being the only thing on the table, filling the palm of my hand nicely. Something my supervisor must have forgotten in her haste to get out of here, an audio recorder, still left recording.
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It’s hard to leave your toxic friends... but it’s so worth it
I don’t normally do this, but as I sat in a Saturday morning meeting thinking about all of the things I felt this past Friday, I felt compelled to share my story.
A brief background: throughout college and for several years afterward, I considered my tight-knit group of college friends as some of my closest. In addition to my best friend of 20 years, some friends from high school, my work team, and some other dear friends scattered across the globe and throughout the U.S., this group of college friends was who I considered to be my foundation. This group of friends was extremely important to me, but it was not without its bumps in the road.
In my senior year of college, I had a falling out with one of these friends, the ringleader I’ll call her. I say this because she is quite honestly the source of 95% of my problems with this group. She is a master manipulator, and an expert gaslighter. There were a few others that contributed to this too, but she was by far the worst.
I can’t elaborate on every single thing that this person said and did over our 7 year “friendship” but a brief summary would be: asking me point blank if I thought I might be a lesbian after coming out as bi (to this friend group and in her presence, I might add) only several months prior; asking me how much money I spend on books about “Chernobyl” every month with the implication that she’s concerned about my finances; telling me that my resume may not be as impressive as I think it is (I’m the deputy director of a nonprofit with both state-based and national projects and had been for close to a year prior to this conversation); would clean up the crumbs from in front of me while I was still eating and comment on my messiness; told me that one of our mutual friends doesn’t like discussing politics with me because I get too fired up (again, I work for a nonprofit that deals with social justice); telling me that crying while comforting my friend who had just lost a loved one to suicide after they began crying was weird and that I “stole her thunder” (we were slightly drunk, I’m an empath, and she was talking about some deeply personal things that moved me and crying was my natural response... and oddly, she was appreciative of my tears because I was “the only person that actually stayed with her”); and so much more that I know I’m forgetting.
There were many other things more insidious, including gaslighting me about my inclusion in several group activities and why it should have been obvious why one friend disliked me enough to not invite me to her wedding after years of claiming cluelessness.
In our senior year, I left that friend for the first time after she humiliated me at a party by commenting loudly and with condescension on my weight. When I cut ties with her, I felt as if I had just left an abusive relationship, and for a while I didn’t want to seek a friendship with her again.
But the other friends in our group still hung out with both of us, so eventually I allowed myself to be sucked back in. 
In the years after we graduated, I thought that this person had actually changed- I worked abroad for a year after college, and after returning I saw a marked difference in her demeanor and how she interacted with us. She seemed more self-aware of how her words and actions adversely affected other people, and I thought that maybe the ugliness of that horrible portion of my senior year was now just a faded scar.
But then things escalated very quickly. Over the course of several weeks at the beginning of this year, I started to feel myself questioning whether I had made the right choice in rejoining the group: I was so sure of how I felt after I left it the first time, I felt so empowered and free. So why did I allow myself to rejoin them? Was it really the right choice?
I got my answer a week after the insurrection at the Capitol. One friend who already had a history of saying hateful things about women (which I tried to put a stop to to no avail) finally went full white supremacist asshole, and instead of joining me in calling his comments unacceptable and defending me as he mansplained my job to me, the ringleader criticized me and told me that “I can work in activism and politics and be wrong”.
That’s the moment I finally woke up.
I left the chat that very moment. Every time they added me back without my consent, I left again.
Every time I got message from the ringleader that was full of gaslighting comments and false apologies, I didn’t say a word. Just deleted the message. Finally, I was able to gather the strength needed to block those toxic friends from all social media and my phone. One of these friends was someone I tried to make like me for years after I was told that she hated me for no reason, by her own admission.
Some may not agree with this approach, but I made the choice to cut contact and go radio silent on my own after consulting my friends, specifically my best friend who had been there for me during the incident my senior year.
As weeks went by, some of the true friends from that group reached out, and then immediately backed off after my polite request for space, indicating that I was welcome back at any time and they were always here for me.
The ringleader chose the opposite approach. She continued to gaslight me, made a group chat with myself, the white supremacist, and herself. She sent me messages from her second account, one that I remembered to unfriend but forgot to block. She told me that if I don’t “course correct” by a certain date she would block me on my account (too late, bro) and that “we wish you all the best”. This implies that it was on behalf of the entire group, something I know three of them would never do. However, at this point, I have had to distance myself from all of those friends so as not to give the ringleader the attention she wants from me.
I lost over half of my closest friends over night. It felt like my skeleton had been torn from my body. I considered giving in several times and reaching out to them. But now, over a month later, I understand how necessary it was to excise what was essentially a malignant tumor. The Chernobyl researcher in me wants to compare it to Acute Radiation Syndrome (ARS): an unseen poison that slowly infiltrates every part of your mind and body and rots them from the inside out.
2020 was an extremely hard year for me, as it was for so many. I am so lucky and privileged to have been in the financial situation that I was and had the support of my genuine friends and family.
But it was still the worst year of my life. I have suffered from pretty bad OCD for most of my life, and while I usually keep it under control, last year it became nearly impossible to do so. I also fell very deeply into clinical depression, and worked to the point of burn out and exhaustion. The primary thoughts I had during this depression were: 
“Why aren’t you working? You’re lazy.”
“You’re a failure, you’re 26 and haven’t applied to grad school yet.”
“You piece of shit, still living with your parents? What a disappointment.”
“What is wrong with you?”
It was unbearable. I’m honestly not entirely sure how I survived it, but I think a certain 3-year-old goddaughter of mine and a few close, real friends had something to do with it.
I worked very hard with my friends, a therapist, and a psychiatrist to overcome this depression and get my OCD back under control. Now, I feel like such a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I still have depression, and the OCD will always be with me (like a bad habit... literally?); but I am so much more happy with myself and my life, as I should be.
And I am very, very, very well aware that therapy was not the only reason I have recently begun feeling this way. It’s very hard to see that you’re being manipulated while it’s happening. Because of my trusting nature, sometimes manipulative comments would be interpreted as heartfelt guidance.
It wasn’t until I started the journey away from them that I saw just how much this group and their negativity (because even the best of them weren’t always the kindest) impacted my mental health.
The event that made me want to share this story is this: yesterday was a rough work day. As a full-time community organizer, I am pretty much burnt out all of the time. Breaks are taken, but with projects addressing issues from COVID relief to systemic racism and police brutality, it never feels like enough. 
I had to officially take a step back as a sole lead on an annual event that I organized for two years, and it was gut-wrenching.
Now, I cry often, but I don’t usually get to have therapeutic cries. You know what I mean? Like, as you cry, all of the tension that built up in your body by negative feelings is finally being released with every breath and sob?
Well, the dam finally broke in a team meeting on Friday. I started sobbing and couldn’t stop. And my colleagues were so, so kind. They let me vent, they let me cry, they would not accept my apologies for crying. They told me that I was strong for setting up boundaries, and that they were here for me.
We spent a lot of time at the end of the meeting each talking about our self-care routines. And as I sit here typing this, I am actively trying not to cry at the purity of their support.
This experience has taught me what real friends are. Real friends do not put limitations on your emotions and fears.
Real friends do not give you deadlines for processing your feelings.
Real friends do not criticize you for things that, while they may not agree with, do not affect anyone’s health or marginalize anyone.
Real friends don’t marginalize vulnerable communities.
Real friends help and support you with constructive criticism (when it’s asked for) and love, not patronization and manipulation.
I thought I knew all of these things before, but I know now that I am still learning... and that that is perfectly okay. I don’t regret most of the times we shared together. I am appreciative of the positive memories that their friendships gave me.
Three of the friends in this group are actually good people, and maybe one day when the dust is settled I’ll reach out to them and establish one-on-one friendships with them (if they want to). 
And I have to thank my real friends, including @tryingtobealwaystrying, for all saying the exact same thing: you deserve so much happiness and fuck all of those guys.
So, the point of this post is to tell everyone this: you can leave your toxic friends. It’s incredibly difficult, stressful, and honestly traumatizing. And there’s no shame in needing time or feeling unable to leave those friends now. There’s also no shame in returning to those friends.
But please know, from this nerd to the reader: anyone that makes you feel any less than the beautiful, amazing human being you are and doesn’t want to help you become an even better human on your own terms is not a true friend. They don’t deserve you or the light you can bring into their lives.
And every agonizing step away from those friends is a step closer to a happier, healthier life.
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hopeled · 3 years
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    the first thing she notices when her eyes open is the quiet hum of a fan.
 the room is covered in darkness, the only light coming from the moon peeking through half-drawn curtains. everything is blanketed in a gentle quiet, one of comfort, and as Ritsuka slowly blinks the sleep from her eyes and turns her head, gaze searching for that familiar clock in her room at Chaldea, what she sees is.....quite different.
  a peach-colored lamp, turned off. a neckles hangs crooked from the switch, the charm twirling in the air from the fan. a few items were tossed haphazardly on the bedside table-- her scrunchie rest propped against a water bottle, some pens scattered about, a granola bar atop a book. a phone (her phone?) blinks to life with a notification, illuminating the date and time as it vibrates once to catch her attention. 
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     3:43 AM. MAY 8TH, 2021. 
     though just awoken, she knows that is not right. wasn’t it...April 23rd....?
 something shifts next to her side atop her blankets, stretching before settling back into peace. her hands lift to touch whatever it is. ( it’s so hard. she feels weak. why? ) fingers curl against soft fur and she knows in an instant; it was Fou. Fou, curled against her side and sleeping, as he always did when he was not with Mashu. the creature doesn’t stir at her touch and she lets the full weight of her hand rest against Fou’s back, finding herself unable to draw upon the strength to let it settle back against her blankets. he was warm. it was comforting and she finds herself sinking further agaisnt the mattress as the haze of sleep slowly began to lift.
     as her eyes adjust to the darkness, her mind too begins to clear in slow succession. this.....this was her room. that much she was sure of, despite the confusion looking at her nightstand gave. but something wasn’t right. yes, this was her room but.....not at Chaldea. the walls were not that stark white like that of a hospital. she didn’t recall having a window either and it looked too...well, too much like an image from one of those home and gardening magazines. no, her room at Chaldea didn’t look like this at all. but it was hers. there was this intrinsic feeling that she belonged there. belonged here at....Mashu’s house. house? yes...yes that’s right. she had a house, where they lived together, in...... Spirale.
             Spirale.
     like the walls of the dam barring her recollection broke, it all rushes back in a flood. it was April last she remembered. and then there was the Tree of Emptiness. it, it tood where the hole was. Spirale was a Lostbelt. it had been a Lostbelt all along and she had been too blind, too content, to see it. that was enough to turn her blood cold once more and have her shooting up in bed, the blanket tucked across her chest falling to rest in her lap. no sooner had she done so did a wave of dizziness hit her and back she fell once more, to the safety of her pillows.
     this shouldn’t be possible. she-- she had destroyed it. she made sure that Tree of Emptiness was no more. she didn’t stop until it collapsed before her own eyes. Spirale should not continue to exist. it should be gone, a world vanished from Proper Human History.
                 and yet--
    though her head throbs in pained, she forces herself to leave her bed, shoving the covers off of her. she barely takes one half of a step before she stumbles forward. after so long ( how long? it was the 8th....a week? two weeks? ) without using her legs, they give out on her when she needs them most. if not for the carpet and herself doing all she could in a split second to minimize the sound she made ( she can’t wake anyone up. she can’t. ), her fall would have been louder. but at best, it’s a muted thud, one that causes her to wince as her back presses against the floor.  “ Haa....ow.” comes a whisper. she doesn’t stay down for long, rolling over to push herself up. she had to see. she needed to see. so with hands using her dresser as a support, she makes her way to the window, pushing the curtains away to get a clear view,
     the moon hung high and shone bright, as it always did. the city was mostly quiet, save for the sounds one would expect. a car horn honking here and there, muted traffic in the streets beyond. instinctively, her gaze turns to where the hole in the center of it all was and she expects to see that Tree there, still standing. she braces herself for it, but all she finds is.......
         nothing.
   there’s no tree. it is the same sight as it always was; the buildings that reach up and the lights shining from within. no unearthly glows of power, no branches extending far beyond into the night sky. it was the same midnight blue as always, a color that would soon give way to the light of morning. it was all normal. nothing....nothing was different.
        there was no tree. 
               which means there was no Lostbelt.
                          which means.......--
   it cannot have been a dream. it felt too damn real to just be a ‘ dream ‘. and she never had a normal dream-- not since becoming a Master. her dreams were never normal anymore, never just hers. she refuses to believe it was all something conjured up by her mind to play some cruel and twisted joke. even that is not so merciless...so then--? ah. she gets it now. it’s a moment of clarity amid the confusion which quickly turns to anger.
   the Stars. of course. how could she not have known? they do this, don’t they? for whatever reasons Ritsuka never understood, they did things like this to those that were here for a long time. she had always thought those were rumours-- that it was only the city at large that got affected. that wasn’t the case. she’s sure of it now. it was not a dream, but a test. a cruel test to see if she was still...what? capable of doing her job? no matter what, or who, would suffer for it? she could spend hours upon hours upon hours trying to figure out the reasoning and it would be pointless. she’ll never know. there was a chance she could be wrong, but everything points to the opposite. it had to be them. she would accept no other option.
                     they were the only ones to blame.
     after what feels like an eternity of staring into the distance of where the tree once was, she turns her back to the window, slowly sliding down the wall until she was seated on the floor. by now, Fou had already awoken, fluffy ears peeking out from underneath the messed up covers when he noticed the lack of the mage in bed. a gentle ‘kyuu?’ ehcoes throughout her room, to which Ritsuka simply shakes her head in response. the former Beast breaks free of his blanket cocoon, shaking out his fur before leaping off the bed and into her lap. her walks across her thighs in a circle once, twice, before settling down once more. Ritsuka sighs quietly, finding it easier to lift her hand this time to let it sit between the space of Fou’s ears. the white noise of the fan is the only sound in the room. it’s comforting. it lets her knew that she is indeed awake now-- truly awake.
        soon, the city will be coming to life once more as everyone wakes from their slumber. they’ll go to work or school, go about their daily routines, as if nothing is wrong. for two weeks, she asleep to the world. it continued to turn and days passed by without incident. there will be questions when others learn she’s awake.  what happened? are you okay? why were you sleeping for so long? she can give no truthful answers. she cannot say what happened, nor what she did. not yet and perhaps not for awhile. for even if it was a dream, to her, it was all real. and she made those decisions. there is no escaping that fact. those from Chaldea would already know it was no simple mysterious coma-- keeping it from them will be difficult. but for now....it’s necessary. at least until she can come to an understanding of all that transpired and what it means for her now.
    ( because if Spirale really is a Lostbelt.....then she needs to be careful. the Stars can’t be trusted. not anymore. )
             Ritsuka leans her head back to rest against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. the first light of dawn is already beginning to stream into her room and she can feel it where the light hits her legs. after so long, it sends a chill down her spine. ah, she’s still exhausted. it was always like that, after this sort of thing. it’ll take a couple of days for her to get back into the habits she has built here. no one will tell her to rush-- in fact, they’d all tell her to slow down. she scoffs at the thought. 
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           “ They always worry too much......”
   however, it was something she must do. she cannot stay idle for long for it will drive her mad. for now, she would fall back into that routine, but with more awareness than before. she cannot be complacent. she cannot afford to grow ignorant. if there was any facet of truth to that ‘dream’, then she needs to prepare.
   but for now, she’s fine like this. here, on the floor, resting against the wall with a ball of fur in her lap and the sunlight covering her room in a beautiful glow. perhaps she should have stayed in bed. whoever finds her like this would have a fit, but that’s a problem for future her. she doesn’t want to move. ( she’s not sure she can.) she’s comfortable. and as her eyes begin to close once more, sleep deciding it wanted her for a few more hours, she thinks of nothing. for the first time in quite a long time, she simply lets her brain go silent. call it a response to the stress, the emotional fatigue taking its toll-- call it whichever, but it is a reprieve. however fleeting of one, it still was.
            and she welcomes it before she falls asleep once more.
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bigfrozenfan · 4 years
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Frozen III plot / fanfic
I have read many opinions about Frozen II in the last half year, many of them very contradictory and almost dividing the Frozen fandom. So it took me a while to put everything together to form a personal overall picture. Many people know that I’m an F3 supporter and after a post from yesterday about Elsa’s humanity and how the makers of Frozen see her, an idea came to my mind. This idea would solve many problems and questions and finally bring Elsa back to Arendelle and to Anna. Furthermore, this idea holds a lot of fuel and possibilities for a full-length film with many flashbacks and plots for really every one of our beloved characters. Everyone would get their money’s worth without it getting boring at any time.
It’s been a long time since I tried writing and I’m not good at it. But the form of a ficlet seemed to me to be the most suitable to convey an F3 plot idea with much tension in it. Maybe one of my favourite writers or anyone who would like to dare to take up my idea and write a real fanfic with several chapters. I would be the first who would like to read it!
I hope you like my idea.
Big thanks to @fericita-s​ for beta reading and correcting my text and also for making me aware of a big logical problem that i had overseen! After one sleepy night i solved this issue and now my movie plot idea is even better than before :-)
The story takes place shortly after the events of the reunion and afterwards in the Enchanted Forest…
Of course it had taken a while until the people of Arendelle understood everything, until they accepted the new friends in the far north and the abdication of their queen. It has taken a while before Anna herself was ready to take on the mantle. 
In her new role as Fifth Spirit, accompanied by Gale and Nokk, Elsa was quickly accepted by the Arendellians. Most were grateful after witnessing the rescue of the castle. Some of them, however, were afraid of so much power in their midst. 
Elsa noticed this very quickly and decided to limit her future visits to what was necessary and to enter the castle without being seen.
The official coronation took place in the castle chapel, where all the kings and queens had been crowned. When the choir finished singing, the bishop carefully put the new crown on Anna and she received Arendelle’s insignia from the velvet cushion. Then she turned to her people with pride and dignity. 
Elsa was in exactly the same place where Anna had been during her own coronation. Anna was calm and composed during the whole ceremony. Fear had almost overwhelmed Elsa. She saw in her memory the ice that slowly formed on the scepter and orb as clearly as if it had been yesterday.
As the applause broke out she smiled at Anna. She was so proud of her little sister. Anna looked over at her for a moment and smiled back in relief. Then she carefully put the insignia back on the pillow. She had made it through. She was now Queen of Arendelle.
As they left the chapel in a royal recessional past an overjoyed looking Kristoff, the enthusiastically clapping people of Arendelle, the invited guests and dignitaries, Elsa involuntarily drew a comparison. There seemed to be far more people present than at her own coronation. Some representatives of the Northuldra were even present including Yelana and Honeymaren in their traditional colourful festive dress, now bowing to both of them. The people loved Anna. And Elsa was happy to have made the right decision for both of them and for the kingdom.  
The Coronation Ball in the evening was cheerful and exuberant. Every dignitary paid respects to the new queen. She was glad that the Duke of Weselton was not invited this time and that she did not have to dance with him. This time she could choose her own dance partner and she chose Kristoff. As a precaution she had arranged for Kristoff to get some dance lessons a few weeks before. She still remembered too well how Weselton stepped on her feet back then and Kristoff was a good deal bigger and heavier.
***
Anna, with Elsa’s help, had commissioned the royal sculptor to create a large bronze statue. She wanted to show her parents at a young age, as a monument and eternal symbol of the peace between Arendelle and the Northuldra. Elsa would not be able to be present in person, but she gave her promise to visit regularly. 
Anna’s second official act was to appoint Lt. Destin Mattias as General. He had been loyal to Arendelle all his life and was instrumental in helping her break the curse of the mist. Ultimately, it was Mattias who reached for her hand at the very last moment to save her from falling into the depths of the breaking dam, saving her life.  
Together with Kristoff, of course, and that brought Anna to her next thought. She had been overjoyed to accept Kristoff’s marriage proposal and that would be the next big event in Arendelle. Her own wedding. But first she wanted to unveil the monument. The sculptor had promised her that it would be finished very soon.
***
Peace had returned to the Enchanted Forest.  The Northuldra lived their lives as before, in harmony with the Spirits of Nature. The giants helped the inhabitants over abysses, Nokk helped a bit with fishing, Gale, playful as she was, helped to convert creative ideas into stone sculptures, and Bruni was content to help start cookfires and clear areas with fire as needed for growing food or reindeer herding. 
Elsa had her own kota in the village, but she spent most of her time in Ahtohallan to learn and find out more about the past and about herself and her magic. She even finds out more about Kristoff's past. The only thing she knew about him was that he has been raised by trolls and learned to be an ice harvester. But now she knows everything. About his parents and what happened to them, and also the circumstances around why Kristoff ended up among the trolls.
One balmy early summer evening she sat with Honeymaren and a few others around the campfire in the village and told them a little bit about Ahtohallan. Everyone was quite curious about it because not one of the Northuldra living today had ever seen it. 
At first she decided to reveal only a little of the deeper secrets there and limited herself to the description of the place itself. She wasn’t sure if this would anger the spirits but assumed that she would quickly notice when trouble was approaching. The Northuldra hung on her every word while she talked and now and then someone asked her for more details. But Elsa left out the pictures in the memory hall and the deeper levels of Ahtohallan with the living ice sculptures of her own past. That was a bit too private and perhaps risky. 
Now that she had accepted her ability and her new task as Fifth Spirit, she hardly thought back to her old life in Arendelle. In the beginning she was there every Friday and sometimes stayed over the weekend to be with Anna and help her with her new duties as Queen, but she had changed. Something had changed her. And it became rarer and rarer for Elsa to visit the castle.
Eventually it even became rare to find her in the forest.
The Spirits were appeased and there were no threats and no strangers in the forest. Everything was calm and in harmony. It was almost as if it had never been otherwise. Many peaceful weeks passed.
Until that one day in the early hours of the morning, when one of the Northuldra men was about to go fishing and he found a human lying at the beach motionless half in the water. The man ran back to the village to get help. 
A short time later he returned with Yelana, Honeymaren, and a healer.  They took in the sight before them and drew back in shock. In front of them lay Elsa, motionless and without any clothes. 
The healer was the first to kneel down next to her and check if she was still alive. She confirmed it to Yelena with a relieved nod and together they carried her back to the forest.
When they arrived in the village there was excitement and a small group discussed gesticulating and pointing towards the lichen meadows and other directions. The only thing they understood in the tangle of stories was, that the spirits had apparently all disappeared and were no longer helping anyone as they always did. 
Yelana immediately linked the two incidents and came up with the only possible explanation. Elsa was on her way back to them when all the Spirits suddenly disappeared, and so did Nokk. So Elsa must have swum almost all the way from Ahtohallan through the Dark Sea. A wonder she could survive that at all. If the magic disappeared, this could only mean one thing.
***
Meanwhile, Anna was seriously worried in Arendelle. It had been more than a month since Elsa’s last letter and since then Gale hadn’t shown up either. 
Even Olaf had been acting very strange lately, insisting they remove the ice embellishments from the castle and find more “Anna” decorations.  He was also uncharacteristically calm. He didn’t visit Sven as often anymore and his curiosity and jokes had become rare.  
Anna made a decision. If Elsa did not come to her, she would have to travel to the Enchanted Forest herself. She asked Kristoff to gather all the necessary material and asked General Mattias to accompany her. He agreed as long as he could bring Halima.
Anna agreed and the next day they all left very early in the morning for the north. Sven pulled the wagon, Kristoff sat in the front and Olaf sat in the back next to Anna. Mattias and Halima rode side by side on two of their own horses behind them. Since there was peace between the Northuldra and the Arendellians, they declined a retinue of guards. It was supposed to be a comfortable trip with a reunion of old friends in the Enchanted Forest.
Late in the evening they reached the four big monoliths at the edge of the forest and the sun was already setting. They got out of the wagon and Mattias helped Halima dismount. Everyone was in a good mood and grabbed the contents from the wagon. There were presents for the Northuldra and specialties from Arendelle for a small feast in the village. They had barely finished when a few Northuldra with serious expressions ran towards them and asked them to hurry. Something bad had happened. Anna held on to Kristoff in shock and said only one word. “Elsa!”
When they entered the village there was an oppressive silence and many lowered their eyes as they passed by. Honeymaren ran towards Anna, bowed briefly to the queen and took her hand.
Anna’s lips trembled as they looked into each other’s eyes for a brief moment. Finally Honeymaren pulled Anna gently behind her towards Elsa’s kota and said softly to her that Anna had to be strong now. They entered the low and gloomy dwelling. Then Anna saw her sister lying on a bed lined with furs, her eyes open. Anna rushed towards her, kneeled beside the bed and grabbed Elsa’s hand. She was unusually warm, but did not return her gentle grip. Elsa just looked up and did not react in the slightest. Anna laid both hands on Elsa’s cheeks and gently turned her head towards her. Their eyes met.
“Elsa! What has happened? What is the matter with you?”
Agonizing seconds went by.
Elsa blinked a few times and then tightened her eyebrows.
Her voice was weak and sounded fragile when she finally replied, “Who are you?”
*** 
Ok, there were or are some difficulties for me to bring some facts together and explain them conclusively. One of them is the loss of Elsa’s powers and what would happen to her creations. Olaf, the Snowgies and Marshmallow in particular. It was simple and easy to do with Elsa’s ice decorations at the castle (if it should be Elsa’s suggestion or Anna’s decision as new Queen i’m not sure about). Arendelle and especially Anna must not notice in the story too early that Elsa is now a “normal” person. But the other thing? That Ahtohallan is the reason should be clear, after all that was the source of Elsa’s power. But what happens when all the magic vanishes? Would Ahtohallan have a remaining residual magic to ensure the continued existence of Elsa’s living creations? Or would Elsa possess some kind of residual magic that she can no longer use willingly, but is still a deep part of herself? The other thing is how would it be possible to bring back the magic or to "heal" Ahtohallan? Would this be permanent? Would it be wanted? Questions over questions and this time Ahtohallan doesn't know (pun intended...LOL).
Well, the rest of the story remains to be determined…
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alolowrites · 4 years
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Acceptance
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Summary: You and Kirishima enjoy a nice date at an amusement park until you relive a painful memory from your childhood.
Disclosure: I will like to disclose that the following story touches upon sensitive themes such as body image and bullying. Please proceed with caution. My inspiration for this story came from a personal essay I wrote in college a few years ago. I actually found my essay on my laptop (it was buried in a random folder, go figure) and felt the need to write a story about it.
~~~
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and Kirishima decided to take you out to an amusement park for a fun date. You really didn’t need much convincing; you loved spending time with your adorable boyfriend, so when he grasped your hands, bounced up and down, and beamed a smile at you, it was over.
You just had to go.
As you happily munched on a purple cotton candy, your attention drifted to the colorful, giant parachutes gracefully soaring up into the clear sky. Your neck craned upwards and you paused from eating your sugary cloud. You didn’t realize you stopped walking until Kirishima’s hands shook your shoulders.
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I said if you’re okay, babe,” he repeated and you nodded, but looked upwards again. Your boyfriend followed your gaze and a lightbulb flashed inside his head. “We should go on it! Looks like fun!”
‘Yeah, fun,’ you anxiously thought to yourself. Your feet remained glued to the concrete floor as your hand gripped the cotton candy stick tighter. A gentle tug pulled you back to the present and Kirishima stared at your with worried eyes.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? We can sit down and rest,” he suggested while his fingertips softly brushed against your left cheek.
You waved him off. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
‘You can do this,’ you encouraged yourself as the two of you walked to the line. ‘You can do this…’
You silently gulped.
Like a true gentleman, Kirishima allowed you to sit first.
You hesitantly lowered yourself down hoping he didn’t notice anything odd. The seat groaned under your weight causing you to shift a little. Your heart was nervously pounding against your chest as a sweat drop rolled down your neck. Your hands shook while closing the belt that snugged around your waist. A shadow loomed over you and you stared up to see the attendant clasping the metal bar above you and Kirishima.
You briefly closed your eyes before opening them again.
Your small hands excitingly gripped the metal bar as you waited impatiently for the giant parachute to fly up into the air. The ride hummed alive, elevating you and your mom just two inches off the ground before falling down. The attendant reassured you the ride will go and tried again. However, the ride refused to budge off the ground—
‘What the…’ you thought to yourself as you looked around alarmed. You were back in the present, but your mind was somewhere else. The fear inside you grew and your clammy hands nervously gripped the metal bar that kept you a prisoner in the seat. ‘No, no, no. This isn’t good. It’s happening again.’
—something was wrong, very wrong. Why were you still seeing people instead of ants? Did you and your mom break the ride? Why are some people pointing at you? Laughing at you? What’s going on right now—
The voices faded into the background. You were pushed into a tiny corner without any windows. As seconds passed, the air grew thinner and you couldn’t breathe.
You needed air.
You felt shame as your chubby legs rubbed against each other.
You needed to breathe.
You tried becoming small in your chair.
You needed to leave—
“I can’t do it!” You gasped loudly and hurriedly fidgeted with the seat belt wrapped around your waist. The belt refused to come off; it was as if you were trying to solve a 10x10 Rubik’s cube with a blindfold on and the suspense was killing you. Your rattled the metal bar while you legs kicked wildly to break free.
You finally pleaded: “Let me out! Let me out, please!”
Kirishima’s voice was trying to calm you down, but it was useless: you were in full panic mode. Finally, the attendant pressed a magical button and the metal bar rose up. Simultaneously, the belt broke its grasp over you. You instantly jumped off the seat and dashed through the confused, crowded line to escape the nightmare. Whispers erupted behind you—
—and your ears heard their snickers play like a broken record. You couldn’t hide from the shame and humiliation. Everyone’s eyes were on you—
You were back to the present.
You ran farther and farther away with no clue as to where your legs were sprinting off to. You were on autopilot and let your body take full control. You just ran, ran like a headless chicken. Ran like your life depended on it. Ran like—
‘Sorry, sweetheart. You’re too heavy; the thing won’t go up,’ echoed the attendant’s haughty voice. He was ridiculing you. He didn’t even bothered to hide his laughter—
The memory flickered back and forth. Past and present were interweaving into one and you had no control over this madness.
Your mom’s hand grasped your shoulder as she tried to shield you away from the cruel world. However, it was too late. This was the last straw for you fragile self-esteem and you wanted to hide. You wanted to leave this park and forget this incident ever happened, but your pudgy stomach that  stretched outwards taunted you.
Haunted you.  
Humiliated you so much—
Kirishima’s voice cut through the memory.
He yelled your name and seized your arms to keep you still. Through your blurry eyes emerged your boyfriend’s concerned face that hovered close to yours. With your cheeks flushed and mouth widely gaping at him, you tried to find your words, but nothing was coming out. Instead, your legs collapsed under your trembling weight and you dove into Kirishima’s warm chest.
Suddenly, the dam broke and fresh tears flooded down your skin. Your cried loudly into Kirishima’s shirt as your hands gripped the loose fabric for dear life. Kirishima’s arms instantly yanked you closer to him and he cradled your quivering state; his mouth softly shushed into your ears as a way to sooth you. He was letting you cry, but it hurt him to see you in so much pain.
It fucking killed him.
“It’s ok, I got you,” he murmured into your ear and kissed your forehead. “I got you.”  
What felt like a lifetime, your cries were reduced into silent whimpers. You slowly detached yourself from the red-headed teen, but his hands kept a firm grasp on you. Your puffy eyes shamefully darted towards the ground since you didn’t want to look at Kirishima.  
“I’m sorry,” you sniffed. “I shouldn’t have ran out like that. I just couldn’t do it. It was too much—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he gently interrupted you with a reassuring rub on your back. One of his fingers lifted your chin and you finally stared into his warm, red eyes. “Don’t apologize. You had me worried over there. What happened?”
You bit your lip before letting out a shaky breath.
“Sitting on that chair triggered a painful memory for me,” you quietly confessed to him. “When I was a little girl, my mom took me to an amusement park. I saw the giant parachutes floating up into the air and thought it looked so much fun to ride on, so I begged my mom to go on it with me.”
You grasped your hands together and brought them closer to your chest. “I was so excited to fly up, but it didn’t happen. The attendant said we were too heavy and it wasn’t possible for the parachute leave the ground. As a little girl, I struggled with my weight; kids teased me relentlessly and called me horrible names. I tried smiling through the pain just like my mom, but I guess I didn’t have the same strength as her…”
Kirishima stayed silent as you continued. “Even though that incident happened years ago, I thought I was strong enough to push through it. But when I sat in that chair, it just triggered that same memory and I was traumatized again. I was that same little, overweight, heavy, fat girl all over again being laughed at. Feeling humiliated and ashamed. And—”
You felt the tears falling down your cheeks again. Kirishima pulled you into a tight hug as you sniffed into the crook of his neck.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, cursing himself for being so stupid. “I put you through all that pain again and it’s all my fault. I hurt you; that’s so unmanly of me!”
“No it’s not, don’t blame yourself,” you chastised him for even thinking that. “You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. I never really told anyone if I’m being honest right now. It was something that I thought I should have kept buried, hoping it would just go away.”
Kirishima caressed your face with both hands and kissed your lips. Taken by surprise, your eyes remained wide open. However, you soon melted into the kiss and fluttered them closed to cherish the sweet moment between you two. Kirishima slowly pulled back, although his hands continued to hold your face.
He murmured your name and you hummed peacefully. “You’re the most beautiful and strongest person I’ve ever met. Those hurtful words don’t reflect who you are, they’re not true. What is true is that you were beautiful back then, you’re beautiful now and you’ll be beautiful the next day and forever.”
“It’s so hard to think that way,” you sighed in defeat. “After enduring all that bullying for years, the awful names and trauma still lingers in the back of my head. There will be moments where I feel comfortable with my body and appreciate my own skin.”
You paused for a moment. “But…one wrong move in front of the mirror and I see the flaws again. The laughter comes back and I hate how I look again. Then I wonder how you still even find me so attractive when you can do so much better—”
“No,” Kirishima fiercely objected. “I’m lucky to have you in my life. I’m lucky that you even took a chance with me. I probably don’t know exactly how you feel with your body every single day, but what I do know is that I love every inch of it. It’s soft, delicate, and powerful all at once. That’s what I see and I will remind you of this every day if I have to.”
Your heart fluttered at Kirishima’s sincere words and hugged him.
“Thank you…”
The little girl inside of you rubbed her tearful eyes and smiled through the pain. She believed him and your present-self did as well. The little girl took one finally glance at Kirishima through her eyes, your eyes, and disappeared into the darkness.
And you were at peace once again.
~~~
Thank you again for reading my story. 
Just know that everyone suffers with their body image, including myself. Some days you may not love the person standing in front of the reflection and other times you will be amazed at what your body can do for you. Just remember that you are special, your body is unique and it is yours. 
Please don’t hesitate to reach out for help. It could be a family member, friend, doctor, therapist: anyone who is willing to lend an ear and help you get better. 
:)
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Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {3}
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Summary: When emotions run high, even soulmates fight. But, following his brother’s advice, Ethan finds a way to make up for it by including his soulmate in solving a conspiracy theory leading to events that would surely make them much closer than they first were. Plus, it shows what a dynamic duo they make.
Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing
Word count: 7.5k
Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist
A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are.
I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!
If you want to be tagged for future parts, reply down below.
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Induratize – to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or the idea of love
Pain. That's her first grasp on reality. It's not something she's unused to; just as she's used to the smell of the disinfectant, Y/N knew of pain in all varieties. However, for the first time ever, she had something different in a hospital setting - a hand to hold.
From time to time, Ethan’s eyes drop to the bed sheets, but mostly they are fixed on her ashen face in a soft stare so that whenever she opens her eyes he’d be the first thing she sees. And once he notices her fingers twitch in his hold, he holds his breath in anticipation of her reaction. He feared she might be unhappy with his presence, but he refused to let go, simply closing his eyes to hide his vigilance.
Opening her eyes in a flash, her neck cracked with the sudden movement for she had to see who the hand belonged to. For a moment she thought it might be one of her parents, the painkillers playing with her mind, making her forget. But she knew it couldn't be them. It was impossible unless there was a new drug that raises the dead.
"Grant?" She croaked, her throat scratchy and her voice hoarse, the consequences of her throat closing leaving her with something to remember for a few days. Who knew she'd manage to get a penicillin allergy after her...fiftieth time taking it? She always felt like a magnet for bad luck and that incident didn't dissuade her.
Ethan wasn't really asleep, not after the night he's had. She needed oxygen more than once and her blood pressure kept dropping even with his efforts to keep it up. It felt like she decided to leave him and no matter how badly he fought for her, she was slipping through his fingers like sand.
"Yes?" He murmured, eyes still closed, lips set in a frown as if hearing her call him Grant didn't make his heart jump. He wasn't a morning person and she just realized it. Three nights they've truly known each other, three nights spent together and only on the third did she stay long enough to learn that and the only reason why she stayed is because she was physically incapable of leaving.
"Do I have the fucking plague?" She cracked a smile, struggling to speak but for a reason she couldn't quite understand, Y/N wanted to speak to him, for him, to make him laugh. The frown on his face hurt her more than it should.
She didn't get a smile, but he did open one eye in uncertainty, allowing him to bask in her meek smile. It wasn't much to someone watching from the sidelines, but it meant the world to him. She wanted to cheer him up. She wanted to see him smile. Even with her know it all, sassy, fuck the world mask, Y/N cared for Ethan and he knew that now. Even if that part of her is small, it's a start. Her heart may be hardened to love and soulmates, but he was softening her up. It’s a slow, difficult process, but Ethan is nothing if not dedicated.
"No. Neither of us got the plague, but the man who did have it died." Ethan told her, deciding hiding it from her isn't wise. She'd ask about him anyway.
Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand out of his, wiping it on the sheets as if his touch is unwanted - as if he was the one who initiated the whole thing.
"Great, so when can I get back to work?" She propped herself up on her elbows, willing to get back on her feet. In her ambition to get back in the operating room, Y/N completely missed the dismissive shake of Ethan's head and the way he jumped to his feet to pull her back.
"You're not going anywhere. In fact, you're on leave for the next week." Ethan stated, a little harshly for his taste but she gets his blood boiling way too easily and he always falls for it. She's a beautiful woman, but it's not her beauty that drives him insane.
"What do you mean? I'm an intern! Interns don't take sick days!" She insisted, sitting right back up, the stress his words caused raised her cortisol and adrenaline levels up in an instant. In all his years, he had never met a woman as stubborn as she is. For Ethan, Y/N was either wildly naive or dangerously intelligent and it is the kindness of her heart and the sharpness of her mind that enriched her soul and drew his close.
"Well, they do when their boss says so and I'm saying so. I've talked to the chief and he agrees. So, you better not show up here before next week and when you do come back, you will be doing scut for a week." Eyebrows knit together, eyes hard, Ethan seemed like an unrelenting force she couldn't fight. Not now when sitting up made her woozy and she knew he was right.
Not that's she'd tell him that.
Ever.
"Why scut?! As if being home isn't punishment enough? What am I being punished for? Huh?" Lowering her voice, Y/N felt her heart skip as the thoughts formed in her head and her mouth was quick to follow. Sometimes she acted on impulse and it wasn't always for the better.
"For leaving the morning after? Because I'm not your hookup, Grant, I am your intern. You don't get to tear into me just because I fucked you once." Swallowing thickly as she stared at his impassive face, she knew she went too far and it wasn't the time nor place and far from the way she wanted to address that night. She was just angry, trying to get some control over the situation she had no way of controlling and it absolutely drove her mad. Perhaps she wanted to get a rise out of him too. So she fucked up. She could tell just by the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched and the warm flames in his eyes were extinguished.
"You have your orders. I have nothing else to say to you." Ethan turned on his heel and before she had a chance to stop him, to apologize, to thank him for saving her life, Ethan was already gone and she was left with regret and guilt.
Too used to pushing people away to protect herself, Y/N now spent her time hating herself for being so quick to speak her mind. Maybe if she was softer, playing dumb like men expect girls to, Ethan would have let her come back to work. But no, she couldn't hold her tongue and she could never play dumb to get anyone's approval. She'd hate herself more if she did.
However, she could always annoy him for progress. What more could he do? He already put her in the corner for doing everything right and then he gave her the worst job for a week to keep punishing her! At least she could get some justice by getting on his nerves, texting him random facts about animals, sending him memes on mean bosses and even voicemails where she talks herself to death about how she was right and he wasn't. All she got was Seen and a daily delivery of chicken soup with bagels and a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice. The Get Better basket never had a note, but she knew it was his doing. Ethan cared, even if it’s a little and she couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on her lips every morning she received his thoughtful gift.
But Ethan was worse off than her. After finally having her back in his life, he managed to make himself the enemy. And he knew what he was doing was for her own good so she wouldn't make the same mistakes again, so she could use the week off to get back on her feet because going into anaphylactic shock isn't a walk in the park like she pretended to be. If he didn't bench her she would have put her health at risk and he couldn't let her do it.
Eunoia – beautiful thinking, a well mind
"You sent her home?" Grayson whisper shouted, swiftly pulling Ethan into the on-call room.
"She almost died! What am I supposed to do? Put a scalpel in her hand and let her cut someone open when she's barely standing on her own two feet?!" Ethan wasn't quite as quiet as his brother, his emotions on the verge of spilling out like a river once the dam breaks. Ethan always went through the extremes – he either loved too much or didn’t care at all, the same could apply to his temper.
"No, but you could have let her do paperwork? To observe? To watch your department for you?" Grayson listed which made Ethan's eyes widen, realizing he might have been harder on her than he thought. She’s too good at pushing his buttons, he knew it, but this good? For him to think so irrationally he couldn’t understand his own choices or see beyond his emotions? Never did he realize her influence went so deep.
"Just look at it this way: if you got sent home for a week in your intern year, you'd hate the attendee who did it. And she's more than just an intern and you need to be more careful if you want her to see you as more than just her boss. You're acting like a soulmate not a professional." Grayson explained and his clarification had stumped Ethan. He really needs to think before he acts but she makes all rational thought go out the window.
"But I also gave her a week of scut." Ethan sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. He couldn't take it back just like that because she'd see him as easily manipulated and he couldn't allow that to spread among the other interns. He had to be a little harder than he should if she wanted to know that everything she got was due to her hard work and not because she slept with him or because she is his soulmate.
"You're in big trouble. But I do recommend you to find a way to work with her on something. It doesn't have to be a surgery and it doesn't have to be in this hospital. Find something to connect over."
Thinking how his brother is now the one who has his shit together made Ethan smile but it also made him worry. Isn't Grayson the one who does things impulsively and fucks things up? Seems like that's no longer the case but at least the advice he gave Ethan was enough for him to get an idea.
It took him a couple of days but when inspiration struck, Ethan was so excited for the implementation of his plan for more than one reason – it was for the greater good and he’d get to see her again. Any excuse to do that was more than exhilarating.
He didn't wait after his shift was done, driving to her apartment with the sole intention of convincing her of a theory many would think was insane but he was sure it was a conspiracy she could help him with.
Knocking on her door, he exhaled loudly, shaking his hands vigorously to get the nerves out. It took everything in him to stop himself from running because his heart beating so loudly was driving him insane and quite literally making him panic.
When the door finally cracked open, Y/N peeking through, Ethan felt his heart calm down and his lips pressed together.
After the way she attacked him the last time they saw each other, Ethan didn't expect her to smile at him nor let him in so easily, however, she opened the door widely and gestured for him to come inside.
He was still angry about how she spoke to him, the crudeness of her words making his blood boil but he also missed her in the past five days she had been away and he desperately needed to see her.
"What can I do for you, boss?" She leaned against a wall, looking at him intently with a small smirk upon her lips. It fell odd having him in her private life, as if he was slowly infiltrating every part of her life, making it impossible for her to ignore how badly she wanted to rip his clothes off and ride him until they're both sweaty and tired with loopy, lazy smiles as they hold each other close even after they finish.
Blushing with her thoughts, Y/N cleared her throat as it seemed Ethan wasn't listening to her before and was too busy looking around. He wanted to see her life, the part of her he'd never know if she was just an intern.
He loves the flowery light scent of the room, even more so the colorful yellow walls and green couch. He loved the art hanging on the walls and the way her carpets were all flower themed. Her entire apartment, or at least what he saw so far, had a spring theme and Ethan felt at ease.
"I'm assuming you're here for a reason, not for decorating ideas?" She cocked an eyebrow, speaking louder this time around and it certainly got his attention even if him turning around had made her breath halt in her throat. It enraged her just how attractive he is.
'Why does he have to be so fucking sexy? Like, he’s just kinking his eyebrow and not even in the obvious, over the top way he usually does! He does it so casually, so unaware that it only makes it sexier and damn it, Ethan Grant Dolan, you are ruining men for me!'
But she doesn't say any of her thoughts out loud, only swallows thickly, reminding herself of the reasons why he's not right for her.
"I have a theory and I need your help to confirm it." Swiping his thumb under his bottom lip, Ethan stepped closer. "I had a patient a while ago with breast cancer and her heart was failing due to chemo. After two doses. So, I did some tests and found there were no signs of breast cancer." Ethan waited for her to realize where he's going with this, wanting to see how quick she is on her feet and not even a second later she stood up, no longer casually leaning on the wall.
"So they're giving chemo to earn more money to patients who don't need it? They're purposefully giving people fake cancer diagnosis? How are their stats?" She spoke quickly, passionately as if she was angry, wanting to start a war. And he liked it - the way she thinks, the way her mind works and how it perfectly matched him. What he lacked, she compensated for and what she lacked, he was more than capable to cover for her. They were, despite all odds, a very dynamic duo and Ethan would soon find out just how well they work together.
"They have a ninety percent success rate for breast cancer patients." Ethan noted and he knew she was on board by the way her fists clenched and her eyes hardened. It felt like she was fire and he would have to contain it - contain her, although he’d love to set her loose on the world and see just how extensive the ruin would be.
"Well, I assume you want me to go with you and act like I found a lump so they can misdiagnose me and order me to be on chemo? To see how it works before we burn them to the ground?" She crossed her arms, raising both eyebrows in expectation and even if he wanted to, Ethan would follow her - to the ends of the Earth if necessary.
Forelsket – the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love
"Welcome to Smooth Cat." Ethan exclaimed as the passenger door closed and she joined him inside. She didn't quite linger on the car, barely sparing it a glance at first and he knew right away no amount of expensive shiny things will win her over. She wanted something deeper than his pockets.
"You named your car Smooth cat?" She deadpanned, her determination for this case wavering as the amusement showed in her eyes. For once, Ethan managed to make her break the cold surface with just words. Although he didn't think it was as ridiculous as her tone made it out to be.
"Don't hate the kitty when it purrs so nicely and runs so smoothly." Ethan responds, his head high and his lips pursed and so dramatically that Y/N had to crack a smile. For a moment, she mistook him for a humorous person, one that she could imagine herself laughing beside her whole damn life and that thought alone made her heart erratic and her mind chaotic.
"So, you plan on letting me come back to work a bit earlier?" She questions, figuring it's worth a shot especially when they have nothing better to talk about and the awkward silence would drive her insane otherwise. She needed the distraction and he posed as the perfect one. Just as he did that first night.
"No. Not after you went into anaphylaxis and I nearly lost you." Attempting to keep his voice calm and his head leveled, Ethan felt like his heart couldn't follow that instruction. It was more than obvious he couldn't just go back on his word. A leader is consistent and in that hospital he is meant to be a leader, not her soulmate. But his words also showed her his feelings run deeper than he shows.
"Can you honestly tell me that this is how you'd treat the others? I'm not trying to start anything but would anyone else have to do scut? Or is this about our history?" Gnawing on her bottom lip, her tongue dancing along the inside of her teeth as she waited for him to respond. She noticed his eyes turning to the screen of his car instead of the road ahead, tapping something before he turned to her entirely, his hands off the wheel and it made her eyes widen. "And can you please not get us killed?!"
"It's a Tesla. Drives itself." Ethan spoke as if that meant anything to her, as if her anxiety didn't spike at the notion of a car driving her to safety on it's own. She didn't believe that would be a safe way of traveling at all, not that Ethan seemed any better.
"And you're right. I wouldn't treat any other intern like this. In fact, if it were any other intern talking back like you did? They would be suspended." And his eyes didn't waver, looking deep into her own without blinking. Ethan meant what he said with every atom of his being and she knew it too. She knew now that she was right; he did treat her differently, she just didn't know it was for the better.
"I was angry." She quipped, swallowing her pride she saw fit to apologize even if it went against everything she wanted to do. "I'm sorry for being an ass to you...in fact, I wanted to thank you for saving my life that night."
Ethan nods, tongue swiping his bottom lip as he opens his mouth to speak. "Which night? The first one felt like I was quite heroic too." Winking, he couldn't help but notice the way she plays with her fingers, fidgeting nervously, affected by the same memories that haunt him.
"It certainly wasn't heroic but it wasn't...anything less than enjoyable either." She remarked, raising an eyebrow at his statement as if she is unbothered when in fact she is very, very bothered and horny and he could probably tell by her shy smile, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction just yet. Not until she knows where his soulmate is. Whoever it is, she needed to know if that person was in his life, to what extent and if he would be able to ignore that she has a soulmate too, wherever they may be...In a way she wondered if he was the one, but life would never serve her such luck. She's used to not getting favorable things...or men in this particular case.
"Oh, I think otherwise. I even have a certain pair of torn up lace panties and a bra to remember it by." Ethan raised his brow just the same, teasing her relentlessly, genuinely curious how red can her cheeks get. Because as much as he tried to, he couldn't forget the moans he evoked or the way her head would fall back with every dance his fingers played on her. She was and still is the muse for every dream, every fantasy and every lonely night he had to take care of himself.
"I -", Ethan leaned in, ready to hear what she has to say, thinking this might be the right time to tell her he's her forever, but Smooth Cat decided cock-blocking is acceptable and announced their arrival.
Clearing her throat, Y/N broke the eye contact, feeling the intensity of his earthly hues deep inside her heart - eyes that hooked her soul to attention only he could provide. "We should probably get in."
With a nod, Ethan opened the door and she followed his example, walking inside without turning back to look at him, determined to do this right. But for that, she had to swallow her pride once more and play the role.
Just as they enter the main hall, Y/N wrapped her arm around Ethan and his heart almost stopped with the sudden contact. She pulled him closer, glancing up at his poorly hidden shock and smiled meekly but her eyes were anything but - her eyes were hard and they were warning him to play along.
"Hi. Could you help us?" The way she asked felt so...polite? So sweet and innocent, too naively put for Ethan to ever buy the act but the sap on the other side seemed fooled.
"Of course, what can I do for you?" The guy smiles nicely, straightening his back ever so slightly to seem more confident.
"My name is Bailey Nolan and this is Grant Nolan, my husband. I, uh..I was doing a little checkup during shower and I think I felt a lump. In my breast." Shifting her voice to a smaller, fragile tone had surprised Ethan because for a moment he actually believed her too. She is all too convincing. Especially on the husband part and he can’t help but tense up when she calls him that, nor can he stop his heart from pounding uncontrollably with the notion. He imagined her calling him her soulmate and husband so many times since they first met, but to hear it felt divine. It felt better than he thought it would and he just wished she could have said it while gazing in his eyes, his arms around her as he holds her close.
Leaning in closer to the receptionist, Y/N glances left before she whispered softly: "I'm scared it might be cancer."
It didn't take long for the two to be accompanied to an examination room. With instructions to prepare for the exam, Ethan and Y/N found themselves alone for a little while.
"Expecting a free show?" Y/N narrowed her eyes at Ethan, her hands clinging to the gown left for her to change into so the examination would go quicker. She was more than willing to lose her clothes that night they met, but that was under the cloak of night and this? Being in a well-lit room with nothing to draw his attention from her body? It didn't make her as happy to strip down and flash her boobs.
"It's not like I haven't seen them before, ya know? I know exactly how they look." Ethan's cocky voice had caught her off guard just as the little step forward he made toward her. With a raised eyebrow and a vain smile Ethan tilts his head and Y/N wanted nothing more but to wipe that smirk off his face. But she couldn't. Not when his words are facts, not fiction and especially not when her body ached for his weight on top of hers.
"I kissed every inch, even the little mole nested right between -", stopping him before he finished his thought, Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes set aflame as she felt her face burning, her voice low and cold as she spoke. "I get it, but I'm asking you to stop. To not look at me now and not look at me during the ultrasound and please, for the love of God, bring me my bra back." She spoke fast and with uncertainty, mostly because she was more than lost in this new situation where she managed to not just stumble upon a one night stand but to work for him and the power balance is way off and she can’t help but feel very threatened by that.
Did she love how powerful and ambitious Ethan is? Absolutely. Did she enjoy him bossing her around? Not a chance. And she is right, the power balance in their relationship is way off, but not in the way she thinks.
She was completely unaware how whipped Ethan is for her and the way she leans a little closer to him when they talk but she doesn't do the same with anyone else. And he's absolutely crazy about the way she ties her hair in a braid so quickly while she's in the hospital, or how she seems to have fire in her soul, making her a force of nature. And yeah, she is making it hard for him not to move in and kiss her every chance he gets, but he needs to do this right. Her views on soulmates don't seem to match his and he wanted her to love him for who he is and what they've experienced together, not just a bond made by a single look as a gift from destiny. And while she changed behind the curtain, Ethan wanted her to know that too.
"I won't look. I wasn't going to. Just teasing you, darling. But the bra is mine to keep."
Necrophobia – fear of death and associated things
Before she gets a chance to retaliate, the doctor entered the room, introducing himself as Y/N laid on the table, her eyes glancing to Ethan who focused on the doctor instead of her breast as the man began a palpable examination first.
"I don't feel the lump, but I'd like to do an ultrasound too, just to be sure." Raising both eyebrows, Y/N wondered if the man had been wrongly accused by Ethan, making brief eye contact with Ethan who forgot himself and his promise for a moment in his own surprise.
"Oh." But then the doctor stopped, looking closer at the screen with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed and Y/N lifts her head.
"Oh? What do you mean by oh?" She demanded, Ethan leaning toward the screen to see better himself but even he wasn't the best in reading breast ultrasounds, that was more Grayson's specialty.
"I'm sorry to say, but I believe your worries were right."
Ringing in her ears, Y/N felt like someone hit her over the head with a rock, her mind stopping as her eyes moved to the screen the man turned for them to see.
"This", the doctor pointed at the screen and Ethan leaned in closer, his heart beating out his chest as his hand blindly searched for Y/N's to hold, wanting to give her comfort as well as seek some reassurance for himself.
"This is a solid mass and while we will need to do more tests when you're ready, my experience taught me this is often a malignancy. It's where most cancers show statistically, but you're young and I feel we caught it in time. We can set up an appointment for confirmation and more imaging, but I'm confident we will win this."
And the doctor spoke, explaining things Y/N could barely hear, feeling like she's under the water, dragged back into hell she barely escaped.
Not even realizing it, she found herself back in Ethan's Smooth Cat, her hand held tightly - no longer gingerly touched, but strongly feeling Ethan's presence. She was so thankful for that. So, so thankful.
With a growing lump inside her throat, Y/N couldn't speak, panic spreading through her as she felt Ethan's other hand touch her cheek, his thumb on her chin, tilting her head toward him.
"I called Grayson and he will meet us in an examination room at the breast unit as soon as we arrive. Remember we can't take anything he says as factual before we check. Okay? You're okay, darling. It's going to be okay." And while he tried to put up a brave front, she felt the tremors in his hands and she heard him swallow tears.
Nodding, she let out a heavy sigh of relief, his words reminding her why they were at the clinic and although she saw the lump on her ultrasound clearly, she prayed she wasn't that unlucky to get cancer. Again.
Rushing to the breast unit, Grayson is already at the door, waving the two inside. Upon entering, Ethan is basically helping Y/N rip her shirt and bra off, her breasts no longer off limits as both of them are out of their minds with worry.
"Wow, Ethan, stay the fuck outside!" Grayson shouted, throwing a sheet over an exposed Y/N, horrified by his brother and his disregard for her comfort and needs.
"We're way past that!" Ethan and Y/N scream in unison as she tosses the sheet off. Breathing uneven, her cheat rising with every shallow breath she takes, Y/N turned to Ethan who was ready to scream but stayed a few feet away. But then she outstretched her arm, her hand open with the palm turned up, her fingers wiggling to invite him closer.
Slightly reluctant, Ethan took her hand in his, fingers intertwining as he rests his elbows on the gurney, his eyes looking into hers only to find fear and unshed tears that disarmed him faster than he believed possible. It's not a secret she's been ruling his heart and mind since they met...since before that, but he never realized how willing he'd be to fall victim to her, to be her captive, to stand in the eye of the storm and admire it even when it threatens to destroy him.
Two hearts beating as one, their eyes speaking volumes about what they can't say just yet, it felt like the world faded and no one but them remained.
But the magic had been broken once Y/N felt the coldness of the gel on her breast, her hand tightened around his and her eyes closed shut. She couldn't handle seeing it again: her dreams all die and her journey to return to start - alone again, rotting in a clinic with nothing to hope for. She found medicine the first time, her graduation and desire to travel the world the second time, but third time? What will she have to look forward to? Eminent death and impending doom of finding a soulmate she never even knew about? Or Ethan?
But he has his soulmate, she reminds herself. He probably has someone waiting for him to come home, a beautiful woman, maybe a couple of kids? Who knows? He wouldn't be her saving grace this time around.
"Good news. The guy's a fraud. This ultrasound is clear. There's nothing malignant here." Grayson's smile is quick to spread, to lighten the somber atmosphere and while he probably should have stopped there, it wouldn't really be Grayson if he did, especially when Ethan and Y/N remained silent, processing the news a bit too long for Grayson's liking.
"Yeah, in fact, this is beautiful breast. It's truly phenomenal, like exquisite -", and that's when Ethan and Y/N finally tuned in, the looks on their faces saying just how far he went. Ethan covered her breasts so fast, pulling his body halfway over hers to protect her from view, his glare burning holes into his brother who raised his arms in mock surrender, defending his honor and quite frankly his life.
"I was just going to say it's like a perfect anatomy, nothing sexual."
"Bro, just go. Leave while you're still ahead." Ethan practically growled through gritted teeth and Grayson didn't plan on sticking around for those teeth to grab a hold of his throat. Because Ethan reminded him of a lion, king of the jungle and he looked ready to kill to protect his lioness.
Selenophile – a person who loves the moon
Scratching the back of his head, Ethan stepped away, releasing her hand reluctantly with a sigh. He wanted to keep this moment going, to have her so close and while he hated himself for it, he liked being needed that day. Every look she gave him, every touch no matter how small, it made him feel wanted like never before and for the first time in forever he just wanted to stay in the moment with her.
"Are you okay?" Ethan's voice is rough, his throat scratchy and his heart slowly calming down. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze, allowing her to sit up and get dressed without having her yell at him for peeping.
"I...I guess. What are we going to do about this guy?" She changed the topic deliberately, scared she might say too much because this fright had brought her back to all those times she was stuck in the hospital, alone and terrified of what might become of her. It reminded her of the friends she saw die and of the days she thought she would too.
"Grayson? He didn't mean anything by that, he just word vomits whenever he's nervous and it got fairly awkward really fast." Ethan chuckled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth, dragging them across the soft flesh before releasing it a shade darker.
"No. Not Grayson. I mean that quack of a doctor who told me I have cancer!" She raised her voice inadvertently, hoping Ethan wouldn't notice the raw emotion behind it nor the loss of common sense that washed over her.
"I have a solid amount of paperwork proving his scams. I just wanted to know for sure today. Grayson is already dealing with it. As you can tell, my brother is a boobie lover and he won't let this man get away for all the boob owners that were tricked into this." Ethan watched her back move with her shallow breaths, her inability to turn around and look him in the eye raising his anxiety levels with each passing second.
"You don't fuck with people like that. You just don't." She mutters quietly, her voice just above a whisper and Ethan can feel his heart break and he doesn't even know why.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Y/N stood up, meek and shaken and so clearly in need of distance because if she stays even just for a minute, Ethan will know one of the worst things she had to endure and she couldn't do that. She couldn't let him in. Not when he can't stay. So she did what she does best. She bolted out the room, ignoring Ethan's pleas for her to stop and talk to him.
She went to where she was the first time she met Ethan. She went to where her life was supposed to start and it did...In a way, that day was the best day of her life - she was free of the curse her body was under and she met Ethan.
So yes, she ended up in the Oncology ward, gowning up before entering the room where comatose patients struggled to survive. As weird as it is, it had always been her favorite and least favorite place to hide from the world, a place she could find peace and serenity but also reconcile her life might end in one of those rooms as well, so she always sat there and just reminded herself to breathe as long as she could, as fiercely as she could.
She sat by one of the patients, looking sadly down at their broken, beaten bodies and how it betrayed them in the worst possible way. As usual, most patients are older or have their grey hair as proof they found their soulmate, but then again, she saw two kids there too.
She was once a kid on these ventilators too. Her friends were on them too. Not all of them made it out.
Comas aren't romantic at all like in the movies, she knew it better than anyone. The person in that bed isn't flawlessly combed nor do they have make up to cover their flaws. They aren't comfortable nor is their spirit waiting by the bed as their loved ones come and go, confessing how much they love the unlucky bastard for years to come. No...coma is what takes the basic human pride and decency. It strips you of all that makes you human. Some survive and recover, going home with amnesia for the time they spent in their state, some don't survive it at all...but there is a third option for those who survive, but they aren't exactly alive. For them, coma means tubes being stuck into their nose for feeding, into their mouth for breathing, into their urethra for peeing and a diaper for shitting. It means eyes covered with gauze to help keep their eyes moist, their throat cut open to move the breathing tube if that state continues; wires, needles, medical students practicing on them because they aren't supposed to feel the pain. It means pressure ulcers that turn into huge gaping wounds because the nurses are understaffed, overworked and underpaid and can't possibly move every patient in time to prevent complications. And the worst part is that the longer they are comatose, less people come to see them. They're alone, abandoned in a room without any chance of recovery, robbed of their right of moving on, truly being liberated. They would welcome death doctors are forced to keep away.
And she had witnessed it happen far too often. She had seen many comatose patients in her time during her stays in the hospital because of her cancer. Some of them she'd visit at night because she felt bad for them, others were her cancer buddies who were losing the battle. Either way, there wasn't anything to romanticize. Coma isn't a pretty state, it's her worst nightmare.
"You're not okay."
Startled, Y/N looks back at the door, aware who it is before she sees the person the voice belongs to. And there he is, the man she wants to know more than anything but can't allow herself to care. If they were meant to be, if he is her soulmate, he'd tell her by now. Right?
"You're always running after me." She smiles weakly, the sadness in her eyes tearing into Ethan who, even now, saw her as the most beautiful creature to walk the Earth. In his hundred plus years, Ethan never saw a human as flawlessly beautiful as her.
"Someone's got to." With a slight shrug, Ethan sat on a chair beside her, his eyes fixed on her with a softness behind his hazel hues she rarely saw in anyone. He cares. She could see that now and no amount of fear that evoked would make her walk away. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to look at her as softly as he does now for the rest of her life.
Y/N no longer cared about whoever her soulmate is because she couldn't imagine caring about someone as much as she does for Grant, not ever.
"When I was nine I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer with metastasis in surrounding lymph nodes. After surgery and chemotherapy they said I'd be fine. They said it would be like nothing ever happened. But it wasn't fine." Swallowing a growing lump in her throat, Y/N glanced at Ethan who looked distressed by her story, like his heart had fallen through the cracks and shattered on the ground. But it was too late and she could tell he was staring at her throat for signs of surgical scarring and she felt self-conscious just like she did when they first cut her open.
"I learned to hide the scar with either scarfs or make up. And I thought I could move on and be happy but I was fifteen when I was rushed into the emergency room because I collapsed in school. Turns out the metastasis were in my lungs and while they were unsure if it was truly related to the first cancer diagnosis or if it was a new sort, one thing was sure...I needed more chemotherapy...more pain, more hospitals, more lonely days and nights and I had no one. My parents were always too involved with each other and their jobs than me. I was alone. And scared. Studying medicine saved me." She sighed, looking over the patients.
"The chemotherapy ruined my bone marrow, a little something I found out in my last year of med school after which I had to wait almost a year while I got a transplant and my immune system normalized. It was the only good thing my dad ever did for me." She shrugged, daring to look back at Ethan who looked so frustrated with what she went through, horrified by the thought of her being alone all those years when the worst has happened to her. And he hated he wasn't there for her.
"The night we met? At the bar? I was here for a final checkup because my doctor moved. I got the all clear and I was depressed I had no one to celebrate the official news of my remission and my life getting back on track." She admitted sheepishly.
"But as great as it was, we can't go back to that. You are my boss and I'm your intern and while it's going to be hard, we have to let it go. So, can I please just get back to work?"
Shaking his head, Ethan chuckled in disbelief.
"You're with Grayson next week and every free moment you have you will deal with my paperwork. That's all I can give you. But you can't seriously expect me to forget that night. Or any of it since." His demeanor changed and the softest he had about him had disappeared.
"I appreciate you telling me all this and I wish I could have been there for you, I do! But I am here now and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. I care for you. But you drive me so mad sometimes." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ethan tried to calm down and actually be supportive because it was hard for her to open up to him like she did and he wanted to be understanding but every move forward ends up being two steps back with her and Ethan was stressed and tired and he needed her to realize she was stuck with him.
“You’re like a book! A big, strange book I barely understand.” He was slowly losing patience, she could tell. And a part of her hoped he’d let her go and give up. A part of her prayed for it to happen. But another part, one hidden deep inside, that part wanted Ethan more than the oxygen she needed to breathe. He was her oxygen, the air her soul needed. And he wasn't letting up, despite it all.
“Learn me slowly then. Please? Just be patient with my pages.”
And in that moment, they shared a silent agreement. In her darkness, he saw her light shine through. He is a selenophile and she his moon.
In that moment, Ethan saw fit to lean closer, his eyes glancing at her supple lips before focusing on her eyes again. He wanted to make sure she wanted it to happen as much as he did, even if it was completely inappropriate from the place it was happening down to their work relationship. It was all kinds of wrong, yet it felt right. It felt so, so right.
She didn't move away, she didn't make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover's touch for when Ethan's lips brushed hers, nothing mattered anymore.
Just before letting go and surrendering himself to this gentle surprise, Ethan looked at his soulmate with a new hope in mind and a promise he would never let her demons drown her.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Tags: @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @heyits-claire​ @dolandolll​ @godlydolans​ @dolanstwintuesday​ @ethanhes​ @iwastornsincethestart @graydolan12​ @fxkthatdairy​ @zeusgrayson​ @libradolan​ @justordinaryjen​ @pineappledolan​ @graysavant​ @voguekristens @imayoutubere @livexdolan​  @shadowsndaisies​ @maybgrayson​
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squiggle-dragon · 4 years
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So, I've decided to also post full chapters of Faded here in addition to Ao3. So, here's the second chapter.
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Chapter 2: "Do I know you?"
Soul cracked his eyes open, vision blurring initially as sunlight filtered in. 'Daylight…? Fuck… how long was I out for?'
He was resting on a nest of blankets in some sort of contraption, similar to a basket. While Soul was not necessarily up-to-date with the technological advances of the world, he at least managed to acquire a fair amount of knowledge.
'Plastic basket,' he decided, lightly pushing against the sides with a furry paw despite his body's protest. He started to stretch, immediately thinking better of it when pain shot through every square inch of his small form. The youkai paused, noticing a makeshift cast on his other foreleg, 'What's this…? A splint?' Soul scrutinized it, narrowing his blood-colored eyes before giving it a tentative sniff. The scent of antiseptic burned his nasal passages and he sneezed profoundly, wrinkling his nose in displeasure, 'Absolutely horrible.'
Memories of the previous night returned to the forefront of his mind and his lip curled slightly, 'They'll be six feet under the ground when I recover.' The fox drew his lips back further into a fierce snarl, digging his claws into the blanket, 'And I'll hunt down that cocky bear and turn it into a bear skin rug. No one jumps me like that when I'm-'
"Oh, you're awake!"
Soul screeched in surprise, fur standing on end and eyes wide with alarm. Raising his gaze, he spotted the source of the voice and stared at her warily. She seemed relatively young from what he could tell, as humans aged very differently than youkai. Their eyes met and Soul squinted slightly as a peculiar feeling overcame him.
‘I’ve seen those eyes before… somehow…’
The pigtailed girl knelt down next to the basket, lightly resting her arms on the edge of it and peering down at him, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sorry about that.” The human offered a warm smile, which he felt himself relax slightly at, “You’ve been out for two days. I was really starting to worry about you, little fox. I gave you some antibiotics and-”
‘Anti-whats-is?’
“-just in case. I mean, you got beaten up by a huge bear of all things! You’re lucky I could scare it off!”
She grinned at him, and he was sure he’d blush if he wasn’t currently two feet tall and covered in fur. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt oddly embarrassed.
“You also broke your leg,” she continued, her smile fading into a look of concern. Her green eyes traveled down to the splint currently on his left foreleg and he followed her gaze, nostrils flaring slightly at remembering the scent of chemicals.
“I hope you’re comfortable,” the girl added after a small pause, hunching over slightly. “I just kinda had to use what was available. Unfortunately, that ended up being the laundry basket.”
His ears flattened against his skull and he glared up at her, growling lightly, ‘Are you serious?! Your dirty clothes were in here, weren’t they?!’
Taken aback ever so slightly by his suddenly hostile aura, his absent-minded savior frowned, “Hey, I launder my clothes daily, okay?”
‘So they WERE!’ he hissed angrily.
She narrowed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks a bit, clearly able to tell he was agitated with her, “Would you calm down? I’m quite clean! Do you actually understand me or something? Because this doesn’t seem like normal wild animal aggression to me….” He froze at her words, so she continued, “You only have to deal with me for a bit, okay? As soon as you’re healed up, I’ll release you back out so you can continue your moodiness elsewhere.”
Soul let out an audible snort, achingly rising to a seated position despite the cast. He furrowed his brows, starting to feel light headed almost immediately, 'Oh right… I haven't eaten in a few days.'
The youkai squinted slightly, feigning interest in some invisible spot on the blanket in an attempt to ignore her. There was no chance in Hell he would be accepting any more aid from this weird human. A powerful, nine-tailed kitsune at the mercy of a tiny human girl?
'Unheard of and laughable.'
In the brief moment of silence, his stomach decided to betray him and let out the most shameful growl that he was sure could be heard by the human girl in question. Soul froze, ears pinned back and expression completely mortified. ‘Fuck! No! Fuck, fuck, fu-’
“Sounds like you’re hungry,” she commented, causing him to sulk slightly. Still, he refused to look at her and remained tensed, cursing his stomach a thousand times. Hunger was such a pathetic weakness.
He started to make some noise of protest before he realized that the pigtailed girl was missing; likely finding food, no doubt. Soul growled before trying to hop out of the basket, instead throwing his body against it. The result was the laundry basket tipping over on its side, forcing him to topple forward with it. His tail obscured his vision as he growled again, painstakingly moving to where he could even make the attempt to stand up, ‘Oi! Get your ass back here! I will NOT be indebted to you! HUMAN! Don’t you DARE!’
Soul awkwardly stumbled out of the room, given the cast on his leg. His body ached and pleaded with him not to be so rash with his movements. He knew full well he should be resting, but he sure as hell was NOT about to let himself come across as some weak victim. He could take care of himself, damn it! The bandaging and doting for two days was enough.
While he had no idea of the layout of this strange place, he was easily able to find his target by following the noise. This girl didn't exactly make it difficult with all of the racket she generated - which seemed to be a talent of hers when he thought back to the incident with the bear.
The kitsune awkwardly entered the kitchen, body lowered and his large ears pricked forward as he approached. The girl in question was currently crouched in front of an open cupboard, biting the nail of her thumb in a thoughtful manner. She was examining a can clutched in her other hand, furrowing her brows in deep concentration.
Despite his impeccably stealthy entrance, the girl almost seemed like she could sense his presence. Soul froze when she looked up from the can to meet his gaze. She pursed her lips a bit before hesitantly holding up the can for him to see, "Do you eat dog food…?"
Every fiber in Soul's small body seemed to light up at the sheer audacity of her statement, wanting to yell at her for such a dumb question. The fox arched his back in an almost cat-like manner, fur ruffling as he glared at her and snarled, 'Do I look like a dog to you?!'
Despite his clearly aggressive reaction to her, she seemed mostly unaffected outside of mild irritation. Any normal person would likely be wary or even scared that the snarling fox would lunge at them. This strange girl, however, treated him more like a petulant child.
"Goodness fox, it was just a simple question," she replied with a hint of agitation before putting the dog food back into the cupboard. “Given your attitude problem, I didn’t think you would. It was just something that normal foxes tend to eat if given to them and it was on the list when I researched it.” Closing the cupboard door, she stood up and stretched her back for a moment with a grimace, “I’m a college student, so therefore quite poor. However, it would seem I need to move a little up in the price range for your more sophisticated tastes.”
“Fortunately for you,” she started after a brief pause, walking over to the stove. “I had gotten some chicken earlier to make some chicken noodle soup from scratch since I seem to be battling a small cold. I’ll give you some of the chicken and a bit of broth, if that will suit your tastes better, Your Majesty.” Ignoring the sour expression he gave her in response, the human equipped an apron and started to prepare the meal.
Soul watched her quietly as she worked, eventually deciding to lay down against one of the farther walls. When she set a pot on a nearby counter, an envelope resting along the edge drifted through the air and gently landed a short distance away from him. The fox glanced at the envelope, curiosity winning out as to what it was. With another wary glance up at her, he slowly inched his way across the floor in a rather comical fashion, given the cast on his leg.
After what seemed like an hour to him, he stretched out one paw and managed to rest it on one corner of the envelope, feeling oddly accomplished at the meager task. His long tail twitched happily, clearly easily amused at the simplest of things. Soul pulled the envelope closer to him, blood-colored irises searching out the name on it, ‘Maybe now I’ll know what the hell this crazy human’s name -- !’
‘Maka.’ The kitsune’s body went rigid as soon as he made out the girl’s name, feeling the oddest sense of foreboding. Much like her eyes, her name seemed somehow familiar.
Why did it feel like a boulder of ice was currently settling in his stomach?
While the dam didn’t break open, it was clearly overflowing and he was caught in a downward spiral. Before he could process one emotion, another broke through almost like a tidal wave - or would, but everything felt also strangely faded.
Fear… which made his recent experience with near-death pale in comparison despite the fact he knew it wasn’t but an echo of the original emotion.
A profound sadness… like something gravely important was lost. It briefly felt like his heart had been ripped out and a gaping hole was left in its place… yet he didn’t bleed. Slowly bleeding to death would have been more merciful.
And finally, a surge of anger that threatened to take over completely. The rage Soul felt almost overwhelmed the feeling of loss and his power felt on the verge of being let loose. His eyes glowed ominously, lips drawing back in a snarl as the feeling only intensified. Faint outlines of his other eight tails could be seen waving in the air behind him as his power crept up, seeming unaffected by his weakened state. At this moment, however, Soul could not care less if he transformed to his true form here in the kitchen. His mind felt blank aside from the desire to lose control - to kill.
Something needed to be destroyed…
Someone needed to be torn apart….
Somehow, the sound of the lid slamming down on the pot snapped him out of whatever confusing trance he had been in. His eyes widened in shock, trying to get his breathing under control as his body trembled in the wake of the strange event. Losing all strength, Soul collapsed onto his stomach and laid there with a distant glaze to his eyes. His brain scrambled to make sense of what it all meant, Maka’s worried voice barely registering. Even as she kneeled at his side and scooped him up, talking to him... her voice sounded so muffled.
“Tama!” another voice cried, sounding similar to the girl’s voice that was currently cradling him - yet it certainly wasn’t her. It couldn’t be, because her lips didn’t match the motions.
Just what the hell was going on?
Slowly, Soul managed to pull himself back to reality and focused his gaze on Maka’s worried expression. His hearing returned to normal to hear her muttering various things about how stupid she was to think she could take care of him properly. For whatever reason, she was in a state of blind panic over him - and he couldn’t figure out why. He’s treated her like crap this entire time, being aggressive and - as much as it pains him to admit it - ungrateful.
This crazy girl faced down a bear for him, though he was sure she would not be able to take it on should it have attacked. They would have both been dead. But this insane girl did that and he remembered being wrapped in something she had been wearing. It was warm….
And suddenly - the fact she was now battling a cold now made sense. She was sick after running out in the rain and using her main source of protection to bundle him up. Then while he was unconscious, she tended to his wounds the best that she was able. Now that he thought about it, he could faintly remember waking up briefly to see her passed out on a strange chair near his basket. It wasn’t for more than a minute or two due to being in such bad shape and feverish to boot, but she hardly looked comfortable.
She was going to share her soup with him as well, which caused another twinge of guilt. Oh, he really needed to be less of a little shit. It didn’t sound like she could really afford to have an extra mouth to feed, but here she is - offering to share.
It was at this point that Soul noticed tears starting to roll down her cheeks and he sighed, somehow feeling really uncomfortable about her crying. With a gentleness that he didn’t even realize he ever possessed, he raised a furry paw and rested it on her cheek.
‘Maka… I don’t know who you are, but the tears need to stop. For some reason, I really can’t stand to see you crying… you weird human.’
He gasped out in pain when she suddenly captured him in a borderline bone-crushing hug. The same anger from his previous interactions with her did not rise to the surface and he instead let out another sigh - possibly for air at this point. Okay, so she was worried about him.
Somehow, he could deal with that.
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russian-romanova · 5 years
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all is right before the storm, part two. | bucky barnes x reader
series masterlist
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part title: two ; a dinner and a drink
pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x reader
word count: 4K
warnings: they drink a lil alcohol, although no one gets drunk, little bit of language, mentions of super minor character death offscreen
notes: thank you, everyone, who read part one. this means a lot to me, so thank you! i tried to bring in some personal memories from having a large family, but also had to make up a family for bucky since his pre-steve life is pretty unknown in the mcu. 
taglist: @20coldhearts (ask to be added!) 
summary: bucky is pleasantly surprised by your family’s comforting yet unique aura during dinner, and afterward the two of you talk family and war over some drinks. 
                 +       +      +
The rain droned on softly throughout the afternoon. Although it was harder to hear downstairs, far from the roof and surrounded by the buzz and chatter of your family, it became white noise in your childhood room.
Staying once more in your old room brought with it a strange mixture of comfort and unfamiliarity. You hadn’t lived in it in close to three years, yet it was as if you came home to it every day as you had done for a large amount of your life. You knew where everyone was since it was as you had left it. The lamp on your bedside table was like habit to turn it on, and you remember where you kept your old hairbrush like you had put it away twenty-minutes earlier. The mind and memory are fantastical things, you thought to yourself. They tend to remember the littlest of things that seemingly won’t matter in the long run. 
Whatever the reason, you were glad you wouldn’t have to spend twenty minutes searching for an object you would utilize for twenty seconds. With you hairbrush in your grip, you made your way over to a mirror that you had spent many hours in front of, using it to fix your hair and perfect it. Once you had finished the little correcting you felt necessary, you found it nice to just sit there, listening to the rain and clearing your head before rejoining your family. You loved them to death, of course, but they were often crazy. 
You were called down by your mother’s voice, informing you of the doorbell. Time had passed quicker than you had expected, and you knew it must have been Bucky already. 
You rushed down the stairs, politely pushing past Helen, Jean, and Marjorie who had been standing and talking at the bottom of the stairs. You quickly opened the door to be met with Bucky huddled under the coverage your larger porch offered, the sound of the rain growing louder behind him. 
“You’re here!” You exclaimed, hoping for a moment that you didn’t sound too happy. “Did you forget your mom?”
“No, my sister Rebecca arrived early and offered to look after her.” Bucky gave you a half-smile and gestured in the direction of his mother’s house. 
“Well, she can come over too!” You smiled, peeking behind him a little as if you would see her. Quickly you reposition yourself and apologize, “Not that your company isn’t enough. We…” You noticed your own fast speed in talking and paused to slow down. “We’re so happy to have you.”
Bucky grinned, outstretching a hand that you noticed was full of flowers. “Here, these are for you.”
Your smile became more soft and real. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t need to do that.” “My ma taught me to never come empty-handed.” He pushed them a little closer to you until you took them in your own hands. 
“Thank you.” For a moment, you forget what came next, too flustered by the appearance of Bucky Barnes with flowers. “Here, you can come in. We haven’t started yet.” Bucky walked in, politely closing the door behind him and pushing his shoes off and placing them on the mat near the door. “I’m going to put these in a vase and we can all get to eating.” You hurried to the back of the kitchen, Bucky waiting patiently as he watched you fill up a tall and skinny vase with water and place the flowers inside. He hoped you couldn’t tell that they were just cut from his backyard and nothing special. His mother had, of course, told him to never show up empty-handed, but the lesson that resounded on his mind was that most women liked flowers. 
You walked past him in a hurry, placing the vase on a small table in the kitchen and moving past him to enter the dining area. “Y/L/Ns! Food is getting cold.” You took your seat, and Bucky found his way next to you. Like a flood breaking a dam, your sisters and brothers entered, taking their seats and saving the heads of the table for your father and Jack since it was his meal.
Your mother and father entered last, and your oldest brother George jokingly announced them as if it was a fancy event. You looked from person to person, each one making eye contact with you and then moving onto another sibling as a child excited for Christmas might do. You were excited after all. It had felt like ages since everyone was together for a big meal like this, especially now that big meals were becoming more difficult to come by with rationing and lack of hearty foods in general. 
“Everybody here?” Your father looked from face to face as if expecting any absent person to tell him they weren’t there. “No? Well, dig in!” The clinking of food began almost instantly, and chatter followed, giggling arising from the younger girls. 
“We don’t really pray,” You made an apology in Bucky’s direction, grabbing a roll from the basket being passed around the table. 
He took them once you were finished. “Nah, it’s fine. I can’t say I do, either.” 
A smile of relief found its way onto your face. “Oh, well it works out then!” 
“I’d say so.” Bucky returned the smile. Your eyes flashed across his face, and the way his glimmering eyes and crooked smile seemed to make him fit in even more. You could feel your face fluster red, and you turned to the table as you examined the platter laid before you. There were meats and salads, green beans and chopped potatoes. To the far end of either table there lay a basket of rolls, waiting to be passed around with a plate of butter that accompanied them. Sweet potatoes sat in the middle next to a large bowl of your mother’s famous stuffing, and you reached first for that. 
“So Bucky,” Ruth’s voice rose from across the table over the clattering and clinking of silverware against plates, and you blushed the moment she spoke. She hadn’t said anything and you knew it was on the way to embarrass you. Ruth had been that sort of person since you could remember, making sure to say the things that didn’t necessarily hurt or harass you but made you embarrassed enough that she got a little delight from it. “You said you’re from Brooklyn too?”
“Yes, but it’s big enough that I’ve never met your sister,” He looked up and spoke politely, clearly striving to impress your family. “Not that I know of, anyway.” He didn’t seem uncomfortable in the new atmosphere, which surprised you. Perhaps that was just because you seemed to be practically pathetic in new situations, constantly fiddling with your skirt or any bracelets that would adorn your wrists. 
“That’s so crazy,” Marjorie spoke up, shoving a fork full of green beans into her mouth. You almost laughed, your hand moving to your mouth to cover your snort. You knew from the forkful that it was too full for her mouth to intake, although Marjorie didn’t realize it until she began wildly coughing and spitting a few of her beans back onto her plate. 
A few of your siblings groaned, and your mother almost gagged. “Marjorie, please!” You were surprised that she wasn’t saying anything to you or your laughing siblings, disciplining you for egging her on. When your gaze cast to a chuckling Bucky, however, you figured she was being polite to your family’s guest. 
“Good to know you guys have a good sense of humor,” Bucky smiled. “I was worried for a minute there that maybe you didn’t laugh.”
Still giddy from the green bean incident, even that thought made you giggle. “Out of everyone, I think I’m most likely to laugh.” 
“I can see where you get it from,” Bucky laughed, gesturing slightly to your mother. She was laughing almost hysterically from something Helen had said, although Helen seemed less than thrilled she was laughing.
“Alright, alright, I’ve got something to say about good ol’ Jack Jr.,” George stood up, raising a glass as if to say something emotional. “Eat up, buddy. Have fun starving in the army.” Laughter and chatter rose, and George had to raise his voice to be heard. “And a reminder for the rest of us -- this is just half of the feast we’ll have once Jackie’s gone!” George joked, raising a glass.
Jean laughed, her bright green eyes looking over at her twin��s. “Here, here!”
Was it cruel? Perhaps. But to you, it was natural. Your family joked like this every day, and you remembered it being this way since the day you were born, and you sure it had been going on for years before that. 
“Oh come on, come on,” Jack stood up, laughing as well. You smiled at him. Noticing for the first time how similar his laugh was to your father’s. “We can all have a feast that will make this seem like nothing when I kill Hitler.” 
“Personally?” Ruth giggled.
“Bring us his head,” You laughed along with her, the two of you making giddy eye contact.
You were surprised when Bucky added, “Which’ll happen before or after Germany elects you as their new chancellor?” Jack responded as if Bucky was another sibling he had dealt with his whole life, and now a stranger that he hadn’t even personally met. “Well, killing ol’ Adolf will come before, naturally. How’d you think I won the chancellorship anonymously?” With that statement, he found his chair once more, now seemingly speechless and Roxie planted a kiss on his cheek, giggling and saying something you couldn’t hear over your family’s talkative roar. 
“You certainly come from an ambitious family,” Bucky joked as he leaned towards you a little, spooning a potato onto his fork as he did so. 
“Oh, when it comes to war, we never joke,” You put on a very sophisticated face and straightened your posture, clearly in a silly mood already. “Legend has it, our Grandfather David Y/L/N the second ended the first world war. And you know what they say -- the apples don’t fall far from the tree.” By now you were fighting to suppress a laugh. 
“Legend has it our Grandpa David was crazy,” Samantha corrected. “And you know what they say-” “-The apples don’t fall far from the tree!” Marjorie finished, laughing like a hyena. 
The rest of the night seemed to continue along similarly, everyone laughing and the looming loss of Jack Jr. to the Air Force seemed a threat not to be mentioned. When the main food was finished, Ruth excused herself and brought out two pies that she had made earlier that way, to which everyone cheered. After eating, everyone was required to help out with the dishes, and you and Bucky had too much fun drying them with the long white rags you had used since you were four years old. 
“Do you want to head to the porch?” You asked once you were all done with dinner and the continuing aspects, suddenly a timid teenager as you looked from the groups your family had already formed to Bucky.
“Sure,” He looked towards the window briefly. “Funny, I didn’t even realize it had stopped raining.”
You met his gaze before looking back to him. “Oh yeah, I think it stopped during dinner.” Wordlessly, you made your way over the refrigerator as Bucky watched you. “Do you want a beer, Bucky?” He leaned his head back a little, straining to see what kinds you had from his standing spot. Giving up, he asked. “What do you got?” You used your hand to rummage through the pale yellow refrigerator. “Lots of Hamm’s. George and Roxie were in charge of alcohol and they live in Minnesota now, so…” You trailed off, pausing a moment longer as you double-checked. “Yep, just Hamm’s.”
“Hamm’s sounds fantastic.” 
You chuckled, although you were sure only you could hear it and you leaned in to grab out two beers. Once you swung around, Bucky accepted the beer before walking with you outside. 
Your family’s porch brought back more memories than almost any other part of your house. The white paint was chipping in some parts more exposed to weather, but that paint had been there for as long as you could remember. There was worn and flattened grey fabric underfoot, and white half walls that went around the border not attached to the house, save for the entrance in front of the door. Bucky and you both situated in outdoor chairs next to one another. You found yourself too immersed in recalling past times since you entered this porch to even think of a conversation starter. 
“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” Bucky asked as if reading your mind. “Like here. On this porch.” 
You paused for a moment to think it over. It was a big question, but you chuckled once you realized. “Yeah, when we were kids we had this giant bus, like an old school bus-” You used your hands to exaggerate the size. “And mom and dad let us paint it. However, we wanted. I mean, I must have been five at the time. Ruth wasn’t older than ten. We had no idea what we were doing! But it was…” You trailed off, smiling to yourself. “It was so wonderful. The art wasn’t good, and it was all on the bottom half of the bus. But when it was all done, we went camping. With the bus. We just packed all of the shit we needed, put it in the back couple of seats, and drove across the state. God, it was crazy. But the porch-” It took you a moment to remember what the point of your story and your face turned redder than usual once you realized your ramble. “When we came back home, we drove for hours. Over twelve. When we got back, it was dark, and we were so tired that we literally just collapsed on the porch and slept. Our parents went inside, but they just let us stay there. We slept on this porch. I don’t even think we realized it until we woke up.” 
Once he was sure you were done, Bucky chuckled lightly. “Wow.” 
“Yeah,” The alcohol already brought up a chuckle from your throat. “I was right there.” You pointed to a corner against the house. “I was the second to wake up, after Ruth.” 
“Good thing it didn’t rain,” Bucky pointed out. 
You looked over to meet his eyes, smiling. “That’s very true.” You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands, while your elbows positioned themselves on your knees. “Hey, what about you? Your family?”
“Well,” Bucky stretched his legs for a moment as he spoke, “There’s me, I’m the oldest. Then there’s Rebecca, Marie, and Judy.”
“All girls? So you’re the odd man out, then.”
“Oh, yeah.” He laughed before his voice fell a little quieter. “And there’s my mom, and she’s over there, and my dad left when I was twelve.” 
“Oh.” Your voice was just as soft. “I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” 
Bucky took a drink of his beer, shrugging. “We’re fine without him, you know?” You nodded, although you clearly didn’t know, and kept silent as you waited for the right words to come to you. “Is all of your family here?” 
You took the opportunity. “Yeah. Ruth’s the oldest, and she brought her fiancé Dick. Then there’s George and his wife Roxie, Samantha, me-” You gestured to yourself, “Helen, Jack Jr., and Jean are twins, and Marjorie is the baby of the family. It’s crazy.”
“All families are crazy,” Bucky laughed. “But you can’t imagine life without them, right?” 
“Right.” It was true. You were the fourth of eight kids, right in the middle and at the point where you never knew the life of an only child as the oldest might before its counterparts are born, or as the youngest might after its counterparts move out. You had always had family, large chunks on either side of you. You see so fortunate, you realized now. Bucky’s father was gone and his mother was sick, and he was the only boy in the family. No other males to interact with or really learn from. You loved your brothers to death, but you couldn’t imagine being only surrounded by them. 
“I’ve thought about enlisting,” Bucky spoke, his eyes remaining fixated on the distant hills. The topic came from the far reaches of his mind, but you could tell he was trying to keep the conversation up. “From time to time.” 
You took a drink. “Well, what’s stopping you?” 
Bucky shrugged. “My mom,” He leaned his head a little as he spoke, unmistakably tired but too used to pushing through it. “My sisters and I have been rotating looking after her as she recovers, but I couldn’t leave when she’s like this. I think she’s getting better though. I hope she is.”
“Look, I’ve never met your mom but I promise she’d be fine without you. Your sisters sound amazing, they get it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Honestly, even leaving tomorrow is gonna be hard. I just love her so much and it hurts that I can’t be there for her,” He paused, his eyebrows lowered in a somber gaze. 
“So you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Your hand swirled the beer around in your can, feeling the liquid push enough against the metal of the can that it was felt in your palm. “For Brooklyn?”
“Now that Becca’s back, I guess. If not tomorrow then Thursday.”
You nodded slowly, almost having to process his words. “Yeah, I’m leaving Thursday. We all wanted to see Jack Jr. off tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah,” Bucky agreed. “That makes sense, yeah.” You stared ahead, any comments staying behind your somber expression. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though you could let down your chipper personality and personal guard to be the person you felt like at that moment. Bucky’s charismatic personality spurred that, you supposed. “Hey, um…” You spoke without really thinking, your speech slowing as you thought of what would come next. “I feel like we should visit in Brooklyn. Or something like that. You know, it just seems like such a shame that we’d live so close to each other and forget ever talking. Right?” 
“I didn’t want to intrude, but I was thinking the same thing.” Bucky looked at you, his lips turning up to a smile. “Do you have an address or phone I could write down?”
“Oh! Yeah, let me just grab a piece of paper and a pen,” You stood up, reaching to place your beer can on the ground. Bucky intercepted it and offered to hold it, which you graciously let him do.
“Paper. Pen. Where?” You walked in through the screen door, speaking to no one in particular as you tried to minimize the time you made Bucky sit alone outside. For a moment it was silent, and you wondered if anyone could even hear you over the loud talking. 
“To your right!” Helen glanced up at you, and you turned to see a notepad and pen by the phone. “Just put it back in the same place.” “Will do! Thank you!” You shouted your response, grabbing it and walking back outside. Bucky looked towards you as you walked out, outstretching a hand to pass you back your beer. 
Thanking him, you sat down. “I’ll just tear a piece of paper in half to share,” You pulled a piece off, carefully ripping it in half and giving half to Bucky. In your neatest handwriting, you wrote:
Y/N Y/L/N
BR-20880
3517 Hoffman Avenue
Under which, you attempted to draw a small happy face, although it turned out worse than you hoped and considered scribbling it out altogether. You caught a glance of Bucky waiting for the pen, however, and you passed it to him instead. 
“Nice drawing,” He commented.
“Oh, shush,” You laughed, bringing Bucky smiled at your reaction. “This is why I’m an English major and not an art major.” 
“You’re an English major?” He looked up from
his scribbles. “Brooklyn College?” 
“Yes,” You nodded your head slowly at his guess. “Probably wasn’t hard to figure out, though.” 
“What, just because you live there?” He passed you the now completed sheet of paper, which you stuck in your pocket. “You seem like the type of dame who likes to travel.”
“To school every day? No thank you.” You chuckled. “And Brooklyn suits me very well.”
He nodded, chucking again. 
“What’s so funny?” You tilted your head. 
“A real live college girl. Learning English. Wow.” You could tell he was trying to be a jerk, and you laughed and pushed him softly with your hand. It was an action you had seen your mother do affectionately to your father hundreds of times, and you weren’t even sure it registered in your mind when you did it yourself. 
“I’m not learning English. I’m perfecting my English.” 
He whistled. “Give me a big word. I want to feel smarter, go.” 
You twirled your necklace in your hands for a minute before saying, “Axiomatic.” “Axiomatic?” Bucky repeated slowly.
You nodded. “It means obvious.” You hadn’t actually learned that one from school, but from your younger sister Jean. You had no idea where she had gotten it from, but it had been one of your favorite words for years
“Ooh, give me another. Hit me.”
“Meleagrine,” You said slowly. 
“Gave me chills,” He joked. 
After waiting for a moment, you answered, “Pertaining to turkeys,” smiling smugly. Bucky gave a hearty laugh, and you felt your own smile grow. “You liked that one, did you?”
“Oh, did I!” He looked back at you, his smile lingering. You realized how blue his eyes were. Not a dull sort of blue as your father and Ruth shared, but a bright blue. Reminiscent of the sky in the summer, or the ocean when the sun rises. For a second you thought you should look away, that you had been staring too long. Then you seemed to notice them all over again and were enthralled with the color once more. 
“Thanks for this,” You smiled at him, raising your voice to catch his attention before flickering your eyes away. “I should go inside, I think.”
“Yeah,” He looked back at you, his voice distant but his smile was near and warm. “Anytime.”
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