#has there ever been a case of the doctor disguising himself and being able to fool the master with it? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

someone i once knew : b.b - p.3

tony has questions, but he isn’t the only one wanting an explanation (2.6k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you for the insane amount of support for this series! you guys have taken me by such surprise and i am so grateful you’re all invested :) )

Tony steps into your suite, trying to subtly notice the changes you’ve made whilst he was gone.

“Look, Tony, if this is about the files I’m really sorry,” You sigh apologetically, catching Tony’s attention as he turns to face you. “sometimes my R’s end up looking like N’s and I didn’t mean for it to look like I’d written Tony Stan-”

Holding his hand up, you stop your rambles as Tony raises a brow. “Y/n, that’s not why I’m here.” Tony interrupts you. “Wait, it said that?” He questions and you weakly nod, but quickly he returns to his original thought process; why he is here in the first place.

“Then, why are you here?” You ask nervously, feeling a pit begin to form in your stomach.

“Nat passed on a message, that you didn’t seem very well.” Tony explains, now pacing around the entrance of your suite whilst you remained still, too still for his liking. “And I overheard a conversation from two super soldiers discussing you.” Tony motions to you, catching sight of your eyes widening.

“I, why would they talk about me?” You question in disbelief, hearing multiple voices run through your mind, some yelling over Tony as he continues to talk to you, but you can only see his lips moving.

“-and that you know them somehow, funny really.” Tony huffs to himself as he walks in the direction of the small kitchen you have, noticing a glass half-filled with a single flower, dried out, dead. “Don’t you think, Y/n?”

The prolonged silence from you catches Tony out as he glances over his shoulder, seeing you stood calmly, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/n?” Tony calls out, carefully nearing you as he waves his hand in front of your eyes, but there’s no response. “FRIDAY? Get Banner for me.”

With a deep exhale, you collapse down to the ground. “I, I, I’m sorry,” You breathe out, coughing loudly on a sob that chokes your throat.

Kneeling down in front of you, Tony eyes your movements carefully. “What’s going on with you, Y/n?” He thinks aloud as you manage to sit upright, clutching your legs to your chest as a look of horror solidifies across your expression.

Bruce opens the door to your suite, looking alert as he notices both you and Tony on the ground.

“Everything okay, Tony?” Bruce asks hesitantly, seeing a level of concern cross Tony’s frown.

“Just, sit still, okay.” Tony instructs you, but you’re barely responsive as Tony walks away, taking Bruce outside of your suite as the door remains slightly ajar.

Rubbing his temples, Tony sighs. “What’s going on with her? Bad day or something?” Bruce jokes, but Tony shakes his head.

“I think she might be a plant.” The tone leaving his voice is enough to remove any humour from Bruce as he straightens up. “Somehow, Steve and Bucky know her, or at least knew her.” Tony explains. “But she seems oblivious, and I’m just wondering if she’s just like Barnes, waiting to be activated.”

Bruce hums in response. “What’re we supposed to do with her then if she’s potentially some killing machine?” The words feel sour leaving his lips, but Bruce has read the files on HYDRA.

Over Tony’s shoulder, Bruce watches as a small hand reaches out to the door and pulls it open.

Tony can’t help but tense as you stand against the door frame, a weak smile forming on your lips despite the dried tears lining your cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Tony.” You sadly admit. “Do, do you think you can help me, please?”

“Come with us, Y/n.” Bruce forces a grin as he walks toward the elevator, Tony hanging back as you slowly walk out and stand beside Tony.

“Can you help make it stop, Tony?” You plead to your employer who seems conflicted.

“We’ll do what we can.” Tony coldly states, walking behind you to the elevator, ensuring you stand between him and Bruce, just in case anything happens.

Your footsteps can be heard throughout the base as you follow behind the woman in charge. Heads turned as she walks with confidence, no one taking notice of who you are in her presence.

Pushing the door open to her office, you follow in and hover by the chair. “Please, Y/n,” Peggy motions to the chair as she closes the door, lowering the blinds too to ensure privacy.

“Thank you for meeting me, Ms Carter.” You speak politely, trying to keep a facade up that everything will be alright, but if there’s anyone who can see right through it, it’s Peggy Carter.

Rifling through the files on her desk, Peggy opens up a series of them as the papers cover the space in front of her. “Oh Y/n, call me Peggy.” Her red lips rise to a sincere smile, hoping you’d ease the tension you’re holding. “Well, the good news is I’ve had the report in from the Doctor, and you’re fit and healthy all around.”

You can’t stop the giggle of excitement escape you. “Sorry,” You mutter, but Peggy doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest; it’s the most positive you’ve sounded in the past two years you’ve known her.

“No need to be, there are still a few more tests we have to run on both you and the machinery. However, if all still stands, we should be able to do our first test run within the year.” Peggy explains, catching sight of the frown on your lips deepening. “I know this isn’t the news you hoped for today, but trust me, this is progress.”

Peggy reaches out, placing her hand on the desk. Slowly, you extend your arm, allowing her to take your hand in hers.

“We both lost, Y/n. But we can move forward.” She assures you once more, hoping someday you’ll believe it yourself.

“It happened again,” You explain, looking up directly to the clock, noticing five minutes have passed since you focused on it. “it keeps happening, more frequently than before and I can’t control it.” Panic rises in your voice as you perch on the lab bench, studying Tony and Bruce's reactions as they monitor you closely.

“So these, ‘memories’ aren’t your own?” Tony asks uncertainly.

Rubbing your eyes as they continue to pound, you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, they’re in my head, and I can remember aspects of them, certain noises, settings and sometimes people. I, I was with a Carter,” You squint, trying to remember her name, but you sigh heavily. “I can’t remember, sorry.”

“Carter?” Tony repeats, and you nod. “Interesting.” He mumbles as he helps Bruce hook you up to the systems, hoping to catch your next ‘memory’ and see your brain activity whilst monitoring your heart. “I, I’ve gotta make a call.” Tony excuses himself, nodding to Bruce before exiting the lab.

“If you can just lie down, Y/n.” Bruce asks you gently, seeing the fear in your eyes as you lie back. “I’m just going to place these on your head and chest.”

Closing your eyes, you try your best to relax whilst images of a brunette with red lipstick form in your mind. You can hear her faintly saying two names, but your ability to focus is gone once again.

Across the compound, Bucky is barely able to focus as he slams his fists against the torn punching bag whilst Steve stands on the other side, keeping it in place after Bucky nearly threw Sam across the room.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” Bucky shifts his attention across the gym to Natasha and Wanda’s conversation.

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as she stretches out. “I don’t know, she went dead behind the eyes and as I left her, Tony was heading her way.” Natasha explains, and Bucky looks over to Steve.

“Buck, I’m sure it’s fine.” Steve tries to help, but Bucky shakes his head.

“I can feel it, Steve,” Bucky mutters. “somethings wrong, I, I can’t just leave it.” He explains, swiftly walking off out of the gym as eyes turn to Steve holding the rocking bag.

Scoffing under his breath, Steve pushes the bag away from him. “Bad day.” Steve comments before running after Bucky before he can do any potential damage.

Sitting with his fellow soldiers, Bucky tries to disguise his rising fears, but his foot continues to tap against the ground. “You got a dame back home, Barnes?” One of the soldiers, Johnson asks and light laughter echoes through the cells as they all wait for some movement to be heard.

Lifting his head up, Bucky focuses on each of those he can see from his regiment, those who are left at least. No one is sure who captured them, but Bucky knows they aren't likely to get out of this scot free, or alive for that matter.

“I do,” Bucky admits quietly. “and she’s the most wonderful gal I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

“That’s sweet,” Johnson comments, sitting opposite Bucky as he wipes his bloodied nose with his palm. “just, just keep thinkin’ about her, alright? That sorta thought helps.” He nods to Bucky before resting his head back against the metal bars.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers as footsteps can be heard, heading directly towards his cell. “if I don’t make it out, can you tell her I,”

Before Bucky can finish his sentence, two large men unlock his cell and grab him. He manages to catch a glimpse at the red band on their arms, noticing a different symbol than the Nazi one branded in his mind.

“Please, just tell her!” Bucky yells as he’s dragged out of sight, unaware of the horrors he’s about to face.

Focusing on Bruce, you tense as the stickers are placed on your forehead. “Sorry, did that hurt?” Bruce asks timidly, but you shake your head.

“Just kinda cold,” You nervously remark as the rest are slowly placed. “where did Tony go?”

Bruce looks past you at the glass walls, seeing Tony walk out of sight with his phone against his ear. “He, er, had to make a quick phone call. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” Bruce reasons as he attaches the last sticker to your chest before averting his attention to the computer systems.

Closing your eyes, you listen to the methodical tapping of keys and the sudden sound of your heart rate beside you flashing up on a monitor.

“Okay, all systems in place. Now it’s down to you to induce a ‘memory.’“ Bruce forces an anxious laugh as you simply look at him before tilting your head back to focus on the blank ceiling, a shame they couldn't cover it in stickers like the dentist used to, you think.

“Do you think I’m evil?” You ask, not daring to move your vision from the ceiling, unaware of Bruce stepping back.

“No.” He responds quickly. “I think you’ve been manipulated with, but I don’t think you’re evil.” Bruce justifies, checking the brain activity to see any spikes, but it remains standard.

“You’re acting like I’m made of glass.” You comment, now moving your head to see Bruce rubbing his hands together as he watches the monitors. “But I’m not, I, I know my parents, my childhood home and school." Your voice begins to waver, but you carry on regardless. "I can tell you the classes I took in college, my first boyfriend and my first time drinking.” You ramble, but Bruce is trying to ignore you. “Please, I, I know who I am.” You whimper, slamming your head back as you stare at the bare white walls above you.

Outside, Tony listens as the line ends up with him left answering a voicemail for the third time.

“Fury, it’s Stark, listen, I need to speak with you urgently. There’s something going on with my new assistant, Y/n Y/l/n. She, she knows Peggy Carter and, just call me back, ASAP.” Huffing, Tony leans against the wall, wondering how he got himself into this mess.

Yet, his moment of contemplation is short-lived as yells from Steve can be heard up ahead.

“Buck, just stop!” Steve shouts as Bucky comes into view, eyes dark and fists clenched as he marches down the corridor.

“Woah, woah, where do you think you’re going?” Tony asks, standing in front of Bucky as Steve catches up in time before Bucky raises his fists.

Holding Bucky back, Steve grunts as Bucky fights against his hold.

“Where is she?” Bucky can feel the anger rising through his veins as Tony buries his hands in his pockets, remaining perfectly calm.

“Where’s who?” Tony asks, looking up to Steve who shakes his head, still struggling to hold Bucky back.

“Come on, Tony. We know you have Y/n down here,” Steve sighs, a brief moment of weakness that Bucky detects as he slams his elbow into Steve’s stomach, causing him to recoil and release Bucky.

Without a moment to lose, Bucky rushes forward to the lab and before he’s stunned by Tony, he catches sight of you on a metal slab, hooked up to machinery with tears streaming down your face.

“No, Y/n!” Bucky screams, pausing by the glass wall, his metal hand resting against it as you begin to turn your head, a second too late as Tony fires a stun at him, forcing Bucky to the ground.

Your breathing increases, causing your heart rate to spike and Bruce rushes over. “Hey, Y/n, it’s fine. Tony has just er, stunned him.” Bruce explains, but your eyes widen.

“Bruce, I, I need to see him, please, let me see Bucky.” You practically beg, trying to pull the wires from yourself but Bruce manages to hold you down before you notice a needle piercing your arm.

With heavy eyes, your focus on Bruce begins to fade. “I’m sorry, Y/n. We’ve gotta keep you here.” His voice sounds too far away as your vision darkens, the last of the ceiling disappearing as your eyes close.

Bucky grunts as he remains on the ground, but turns his head to see Tony stood with his hand covered by his Iron Man tech, a glow of pale blue emitting from his palm, yet to be fired.

“You alright, Buck?” Steve calls out from beside Tony.

Not responding verbally, Bucky nods as he uneasily stands, holding his hands up and remains on the spot where he fell, out of sight from you.

“Tony, lower your hand.” Steve scoffs, and Tony hesitantly obliges, powering his charge down. “I told you not to come here, Bucky,” Steve comments like a disappointed parent, but Bucky’s jaw clenches as he looks at the floor beneath him, the scuff marks from where he fell moments prior.

“Are one of you planning on telling me what the hell is going on here? Because I’ve got a delusional assistant having a brain scan in there who might be a potential HYDRA plant and I want answers.” Tony steps forward, looking between the two super soldiers. “No, you don’t wanna tell me?” Tony raises his arms in defeat and begins to walk away, back to the lab.

“Bucky,” Steve mutters to his friend who eases his jaw and finally looks up.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Bucky speaks up, and Tony spins on his heels, facing Bucky. “she was my fiance.”

Tony stares at Bucky in disbelief before whistling loudly. "Well, I didn't expect that."

P A R T F O U R

(thank you to the following for all the love in the first two parts! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know) (tagging those who wished to be tagged from p2!)

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart

424 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

Hi! Just wanted to know what you think Charles' route will be alll about, and how would the Ikevamp lore continue from there? Do you think we'll get an Act 3 or more suitors? I absolutely love reading your interesting insights and hearty theories! They're food for my simping soul ♡(> ਊ <)♡ please forgive my fangirling..

Hihi!!! You’re much too sweet, thank you!!! 💛💛💛 you’re always free to simp and fangirl here, haha~

I'm happy to answer as best I can, though honestly I'm not 100% sure given the main story routes all range--both in terms of topic and larger narrative impact. My guess is that it will likely be about Charles' history as somebody who took part in the French revolution, namely his role as an executioner. In line with that, I would address two lines; one from Mozart, one from Dazai.

Mozart in relation to Charles says "I remember that name..." and Dazai says that "He is a young man with many secrets." I think they both speak to a larger consideration with Charles, which is that he is both a famous historical figure but also one that trails so much blood behind him? This is a man who killed people for a living (and in droves), despite being a medical doctor. There is going to be an inevitable mental dissonance that comes with that dichotomy. His life aspiration was to help and heal people, and instead he was called to murder them indiscriminately (and often for reasons that were openly unjust). Much of his energy and disposition feels like a kind of mask; it's intended to disguise what's truly lurking beneath the surface. When people are convinced they're unsightly or monstrous, they can very often overcompensate with buoyant behavior and positivity. Dazai’s main story really felt like it was hammering this concept home, considering Charles’ insistent cheer directed at MC (yet showing Dazai and Faust a great deal of darkness.)

Interesting too, now that I think about it, because there is a kind of foil mechanism that comes with making Charles the antagonist of Dazai’s route. I didn’t realize it until now, but they both hide their secrets--and the true nature of some of their uglier feelings--with a kind of forcible levity. The difference here lies in the state of their baseline energy, the form by which it is expressed. Dazai is one to joke around and make light of (often serious) things, but he does it to a point of absurdity and mild outrage. He has a kind of desire to be chased out the way I understand him (because being chased out means he can leave and avoid the pressure of being real). If he’s not seeking to be chased out, he wants the person to smile/laugh at his blunders. He’s a mood-maker just as his description entails, and as such his goal is always the regulate/influence the emotional tone of a group in a positive way.

Charles, by contrast, avoids transparency by bouncing around and pretending like nothing really gets to him. He’s forthright and bold, but his desire to have fun belies the reality of who he is and who his master is. The impatience, the burning envy that dwells within remains to be seen--and only makes an appearance in flashes. It begs the question as to what it is he’s trying to avoid moving at that speed, as his increasing velocity means a lowered scrutiny and self-awareness (one that limits him just as much as it enables him to keep going). Furthermore, he has some notion of regulating the mood of the group in that he’s often the one who lowers tension between Vlad and Faust with his upbeat attitude. However, I would argue that it isn’t nearly as powerful as Dazai’s fixation with it; when Charles is upset or wants something, he will not hesitate to put his personal needs first (or demand them, even). Dazai does not seem to have this same audacity generally.

There's also the question of what Charles is hiding, other than the obvious historical information we have. I get the feeling something is lurking behind his desperation to believe in the future Vlad wants to create. Maybe it's some desperate wish to atone for what he's done. Maybe he raised that guillotine under some kind of misguided belief that he was restoring the world to order. We believe outlandish things to survive sometimes, and I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case for Charles. I’d like to see just what it is that makes him tick.

That being said, that doesn't always free us from the truth of what we've done. Sooner or later we're forced to confront and come to terms with it. Dazai's main story (for a short time) forced him to face that gaping maw of trauma, and it was very clear he was not in the slightest bit prepared or able to cope. So there is the question of--if MC confronts him with that--what he will do in response.

I also wouldn't be surprised if he's among the bolder suitors, seeking her affection and body with more insistence than the boys of the mansion. It remains to be seen, but given the impression I've received from him and the rest of the trio...(a note of caution to people uncomfy with that).

I'm interested to see where Charles will go, in that I'm not really sure if he'll skew to the yandere side or the lowkey wants to help people side. He has every potential to become increasingly demanding of MC’s time and attention, trying to monopolize her as much as possible. Burying himself further in denial, never questioning his master. But he also has a kind of hearty maturity at his core that might result from his life experiences, where he acknowledges what he's done and just tries to do the best he can moving forward.

If the latter happens, there is the very real question of what happens with his relationship with Vlad--which is part of the reason I have my doubts about this possibility. In the infamous (and paraphrased) words of Mulaney(? I think it was) "if this is gonna happen Vlad is gonna need to become suddenly cool with a lot of things very fast" LMAO. I don't really see Vlad ceding his control over Charles' mind easily, and I don't see him satisfied with a future of Charles' autonomy. But then, who knows? I may very well be proven wrong

I'm also curious about Charles’ pronounced interest in Comte, this kind of hope for reconciliation. There's a very real chance that could be a focal point, in that Charles wants there to be mingling between the two houses. There are also a lot of problems with this sort of theory in that it would likely require A LOT of development/time to bridge that gap if it was ever bridged, and I don't think Comte would accept anything less than Vlad agreeing to cease and desist his assault on humanity. This potentiality might be more probable for an Act 3 story progression, now that I think about it.

As for Act 3, I'm really not sure who will or won't get one. The only storyline that has been left openly/grossly unfinished is Comte's to my knowledge, largely because of the agreement they made? In all the other routes, there isn't much of a whisper about her turning into a vampire. (Vlad turns her at the end of his route I’ve heard, and as for Faust I don’t know--but I haven’t seen any signs that he would demand it of her so far.) Comte hesitates--but he has every intention of doing it when they feel the time is right. So there's the question of when or how that will happen. In a bday story? In an event story? Act 3? Dunno

I also wonder about how pureblood society and vampire hunters might come into play, but given they exist on the periphery of the game I don’t know if it’s as safe a bet as Comte vs. Vlad continuing their ideological battle.

As for the suitors in general, there is always the potential of antagonist intervention in Act 3? Maybe they heckle their happy ending or throw the relationship into some kind of turmoil, though I'm not sure exactly how that will work since most of the routes end on a pretty resolved note? There's also the reality of all the rivals being murdered in cold blood after their duels. So like ???? Really depends on the direction Cybird wants to take. Expand on the relationship, create new issues/threats--or make Act 3 a more large scale story progression.

There’s also the possibility that the story is expanded by hinging on the timespace complications. If Vlad saw a desolate future, what does that mean for everyone? Will that come to pass--and if so, when? Will he be supported or stopped? What will that entail? Maybe Vlad sees that the desolate future was the product of his own megalomania. Maybe Vlad turns out to be right and drastic action needs to be taken before it gets that far. Whatever the case, I’m interested to see what narrative avenue Cybird will choose.

As for more suitors, I really have no idea given I haven’t seen so much as a whisper of what comes after Charles. I think my best bet would be potential pureblood suitors (maybe the product of Comte/Vlad story continuations), or more roulette famous figures in line with Vlad’s machinations to thwart the suitors. If Michelangelo comes back and throws hands with Leonardo, I will veritably lose my entire mind

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meta #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp comte #i hope this helps!#there are a lot of story threads cybird actively follows and many they abandon so #it can be pretty hard to tell what they'll choose #i will say that comte's events have been an interesting build-up #and i'm surprised because he's not really the title character of the game? I find usually napoleon/arthur/vlad tend to get more attention #but honestly comte seems to be the only act 2 character who gets a sizable amt of content alongside vlad (as compared to dazai/shakes/seb)#comte is the outlier in terms of steady narrative progression and consistent development #it makes me wonder if they intend to expand on it because of his conflict with vlad and his promise to mc--which allows for room to write #vlad is an obvious contender in that so much of his stance/presence in the game is about the future and how it will play out #his obsession brings with it the question of what it all really means and how it will be resolved in the end #they're probably the most likely contenders for act 3 given the larger tone of their events and room for development at the moment #man if it turns out some pureblood rando was messing with timespace and vlad and comte have to team up #i will literally laugh myself to death #anywho those are my thoughts! hope it was engaging <333 #and sorry if my simping got in the way (I try not to be biased HAHA)#💛💛💛💛💛💛#rambles #not incorrect quotes

76 notes · View notes

mangoofthesea · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 10 - oops i did it again/hospital with Iwaoi

Ao3

The doctor leaves the room and Tooru stares at the crisp, white blankets of his hospital bed, thinking, ignoring the bright midday sun streaming through the windows, bathing the room in a warm, cheerful glow. It feels far too happy and he hates it.

The floor is cool under his socked feet as he stands, wincing at the way it jostles his knee trying to balance his weight on the other. Thankfully his bag had been left within easy reach. It only takes a couple of moments to find his phone and press the call on the familiar contact, returning to sit on the edge of the bed as he does so.

It would be around 11pm for him, so Tooru hopes he won’t be waking him.

It rings twice, then three times and Tooru is about to give up. Maybe try again tomorrow. Or not. He’s sure he’ll be feeling better about it by-

“Oikawa?” The deep voice is rough with sleep, but still that unmistakably familiar tone that has heat burning the back of his eyes in a way that he hates. “What is-”

A breathy laugh breaks out of him unbidden and the voice breaks off, waiting for him to speak.

“It finally happened, Iwa-chan,” he says, trying for levity. “I thought I had it all figured out. That everything was fine and I was looking after it well enough, but-” his voice cracks and he hates it.

Hajime uses the pause to speak, sounding more awake than he had last time he spoke. “What happened?”

Straight to the point as always. No matter the time in their lives he takes comfort in that one fact never changing.

“They said -” there are tears gathering now but he pushes them back, trying to keep the crack out of his voice, “they said-,” rip it off like a bandaid, “my knee is shot. It finally happened, Hajime. They can treat it enough to recover for me to be able to walk, probably, but I’m done playing. For good this time. I -”

All of a sudden, he feels very foolish calling his childhood best friend three full continents and twenty-two hours time difference away to complain. “Fuck sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with this, you’re busy with your own team and -” he isn’t sure where he was going with this, but he can’t put his words together anymore, too many thoughts and emotions hitting him like a flood and he’s trying so hard to not let himself get washed away.

“Where are you right now?” Hajime’s voice sounds so echoy and distant from his phone’s speaker, but he can still hear concern. He hates that dumb teenage part of him that never quite got over the crush - not feelings, crush - clings to that sound, that sign that Hajime maybe still cares.

He swallows around the lump in his throat and responds.

“The hospital. It gave out in training and they rushed me here. Pain killers and x-rays, all the other types of scans I was never able to remember the names of,” he laughs without humour. It’s a lie, they both know it. Tooru remembers every type of scan he’s ever had on his knee, terrified of what each one was saying about how unfit his body was for achieving his dreams. “We- I knew it was coming someday, but I...I just thought I’d maybe have a couple more years.”

His voice cracks on the last word, hard enough that he knows he’s not disguising it any more. The dam has been building since he hit the floor surrounded by his teammates, begging whatever deities listening that this wasn’t what he knew it was.

“Sorry I woke you Iwa-chan. You go back to sleep, I’ll call you soon.” He hangs up the phone before he gets a response and clutches it tightly as he draws in on himself, still perched on the side of the white, sterile hospital bed, and hates his body for not being strong enough.

Later, as he falls asleep that night still in the same bed, he hates himself for the way he has let this affect him. He had known this was coming, had put off making plans for what he would do after in case it jinxed it. He hates himself for being greedy, for how desperately he wishes he could have just a couple more years, one more tournament, one more Olympic games. One more game with his team who he has come to love as a second family thousands of miles away from his first.

And finally, staring blankly at the ceiling waiting to drift into a fitful sleep aided by the pain medication in his system, he hates himself for giving into his need for comfort. For security, for the voice of the only man he’s ever loved more than himself and that he very nearly but not quite loved more than volleyball. He curses himself for feeling and picking up his phone that morning to call Iwazumi Hajime. And then ignoring the way the lack of messages afterwards made the remains of his heart freeze over.

He has only been awake for an hour when the sound of his door opening suddenly makes him look up. Standing in the doorway he finds a dark haired, harried looking man clutching a duffle bag in one hand and the door handle tightly in the other.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tooru says eloquently.

Hajime looks rumpled and tired, that’s the main thing he can pick out at first glance. Rather than the pristine put together athletic trainer he normally is, his hair is messy and his t-shirt creased, jacket tied around one of the straps on the duffle. His eyes are bloodshot and ringed by dark bruises. It all serves to make Tooru feel he’s at least probably not hallucinating from the painkillers, because any Hajime he could imagine would look a whole lot better than this.

The deep lines of his face smooth out slightly as his eyes land on Tooru.

Then he swiftly moves to Tooru’s bedside and there are strong arms suddenly around his pajama clad shoulders pressing his face into a strong chest that feels like home and safe.

When the deep voice above his head speaks he feels the rumble from the chest he’s pressed against. “I wasn’t gonna let you go through this on your own, fuckwit. I said I would be there for you if you needed me, remember.”

After taking a few seconds to fully register that Hajime is here, Tooru takes the opportunity to bring his own arms around Hajime and hold on tightly. “How did you get here?”

“You said you were in the hospital, so I called your captain to ask which one.”

Tooru laughs wetly. “Of course, you were friendly with him last time you were out here, weren’t you. Were you and him teaming up against me or what, Iwa-chan?”

“How are you doing?” Hajime asks, ignoring his question.

Tooru is grateful he can have this conversation without having to show his face. “I can’t play volleyball anymore.” Even though it's not the first time he’s heard it, he feels Hajime’s arms tighten around him in reaction, holding him tighter, but then waits for him to continue. Because of course he does, he always waits for Tooru..

He gives a shaky sigh where his face is still pressed into the fabric of Hajime’s soft t-shirt, and closes his eyes tightly. “I just...I thought I’d maybe get a couple more years. I know it’s stupid, I already got so much more than we ever thought I’d get. When I was a teenager I wondered if I’d even get to play professionally. But... I still- I wanted more.”

“You always do." The words would have once felt callous and exasperated, but all Tooru hears in them now is fondness. It’s the final straw on the pile of emotional weight that has been threatening to crush him, and suddenly the tears he had been holding back until now begin to fall. Hajime stays while he breaks, and holds him tightly, almost painfully, as if he can protect him, even though it’s Tooru’s own body that’s causing his pain.

Even when Tooru stops crying, Hajime stays.

He wonders if he’s maybe not lost everything after all.

27 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Light the Pyres |Rise| - SUNGYOON

Sungyoon + mc finally start getting their shit together I'm gonna scream

Pairing: Sungyoon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, bits of fluff, apocalypse!au

Triggers: cursing, implied death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 4.6k

As the world burns its last goodbyes, you find a jewel amidst the ashes.

Previous: Light >> Rise >> Next: Burn

Golden Child Masterlist

Walking with Sungyoon is slow.

It isn’t like you expected anything more, considering the injured leg and all. Still, as you start off down the highway, you can’t help but feel like he was walking faster yesterday when you two came back to find his family.

Maybe it was adrenaline. Worry. Fear for loved ones can give you a lot of strength.

Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

You try not to show it. You’re the one who offered to let Sungyoon come, after all. He even raised the issue of his leg before agreeing. But impatience rears its ugly little head every time Sungyoon falls behind, forcing you to slow your steps down never-ending streets and highways until he ultimately needs a break and you sit in what miniscule shade you can find.

If it wasn’t so silent, you might be able to stomach the walk better. Maybe if you and Sungyoon were on good enough terms to have a conversation, walking wouldn’t feel so endless and slow. But after you gave each other your names that night in the house, there hasn’t been much conversation other than “break?” and “let’s go.”

Daeyeol was quiet, but in a comfortable way, in a way you’d known for two decades. Sungyoon has a reserved quietude about him. Definitely not comfortable.

Though given the circumstances under which you met, that isn’t surprising.

Which is why you don’t expect Sungyoon to bring up the issue and not you. You always figured at some point you’d explode from keeping quiet too much and say things you couldn’t take back, but one week after you leave, Sungyoon opens his mouth and starts talking instead of eating the granola bar you put in his hand.

“Are you tired of walking with me?”

You blink once. Twice. You still have the presence of mind to be thankful you just took a mouthful of granola bar and have to chew and swallow before you say a thing.

“No,” you reply, lying through bits of granola stuck in your teeth.

Sungyoon raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really.”

Indignation rises in your chest. “Well, what do you want me to say?” you snap. “Why are you even asking? What does it matter?”

He looks down. Shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, voice smaller and suddenly very tired. “I would’ve gotten tired in your position. I’m sorry.”

That just ups the guilt you feel for having those stupid thoughts. “Why are you sorry?” you say harshly, trying to disguise the emotion threatening to spill out of your mouth. “Last time I checked, doing whatever you did to your leg wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t land properly.”

“I was the one who told you to jump.” You grimace at the memory. “So unless you had practice in jumping off fucking buses before this all happened, I don’t see how that’s supposed to change the fact that you couldn’t control your jump from a bus taller than you.”

“I’m still slowing you down,” Sungyoon argues.

“What is this, a competition of who’s done worse?” You scoff. “In that case, if you didn’t remember, I forced you to choose between leaving your family or me killing them.”

Your words are acerbic. Grating. They burn guilty on your lips and tongue and you’re surprised Sungyoon doesn’t do anything more than swallow and look away, teeth worrying his lips. “They were already dead.”

Bitterness. Resentment. Not a lot, but just enough to tinge his words with a sickly venom that eats into your skin, filling your throat with bile. He doesn’t believe that, not yet, which you can’t even blame because you’re still trying to convince yourself it isn’t his fault that Daeyeol is dead.

Oh, God. Daeyeol.

Two bites of granola bar churn in your stomach. “I killed them anyway,” you manage, trying not to hurl.

“But I got Daeyeol killed.” Sungyoon turns, his eyes burning into yours.

Your fingers crush the remains of the granola bar still in your hand. Bits fall onto the ground, but you’re too busy focusing on a point in the distance to care, avoiding Sungyoon’s gaze for fear that you’ll launch yourself at him, claw his eyes out, throw him against the tree he’s sitting under –

Oh.

You stop throttling the granola bar.

This must be how he feels about you, too.

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe it.” Sungyoon’s voice, oblivious to your whirlwind of thoughts, is soft, bitter, but understanding. “Remember? The only reason I’m still here is because I’m living on his time.”

Bile stings in your throat, but you force yourself to lock eyes with him once more. “Yeah,” you croak. “Yeah. I do kind of believe it. But you also believe I killed your sister and her boyfriend, even if you keep saying they were already dead before I did it.”

His jaw tightens. Gaze shifts. But Sungyoon doesn’t argue.

You sigh. “I know the facts and I know it isn’t your fault, Sungyoon.” His name sounds weird on your tongue, but you push away the strange feeling and continue. “My brain just doesn’t want to believe it. Yet.” You swallow, hard. These next words better convey sincerity. “I don’t mean to act like your life only matters because Daeyeol sacrificed himself for us. It doesn’t. I do want you to stay alive if only for you to keep living. It’s just…” Another sigh. “I’m sorry.”

The truth doesn’t fall too flat, at least.

“Mine doesn’t either.” Sungyoon doesn’t raise his head, but one hand goes up to rub his downcast eyes. You fight the urge to tell him not to, that the dirt from his skin might cause an infection. “I would’ve had to kill them, one way or another. You just did it for me. Inevitable.” He looks up. “I shouldn’t blame you. I’m trying not to. Maybe I shouldn’t even have brought it up, I just didn’t want this to keep… festering.” He winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies.” You wrap up the remains of your granola bar, too drained to contemplate another bite even though you probably need it. “No more guilt. I think we’ve both done enough shit to each other to cancel most of it out.” And it feels weird. “Also, just because I’m impatient about you walking slowly doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you behind. I asked you to come. I’m not an absolute shithead. When you walk it off, you’ll be fine. Maybe we can find some bikes or something in the next city. I don’t know.”

Sungyoon blinks, then nods. Silence falls, a little less tension-filled than before. Then –

“I used to run track.”

You blink, trying to register his five word statement. It feels so out of place, but then you remember you were talking about going faster. “Were you any good?”

A brief glint of pride flashes in Sungyoon’s eyes. “One of the best.”

“Well, track boy, I guess we’ll have to wait until a horde finds us to verify that statement.” Your lips almost curve, and you feel a small bit of satisfaction as Sungyoon’s mouth twitches similarly. Morbid humor. Maybe that’s something you, him and Daeyeol have in common. “Go to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

He sleeps, then, more quietly than you’ve ever seen him. And as his breaths begin to even, there’s a hint of the peace you used to feel when it was just you and Daeyeol instead.

It lets you pretend that things aren’t really as bad as they seem.

. . . . .

And things aren’t too bad, at least not for a while. Limping along, you and Sungyoon make it through a second week and then a third without ripping out each other’s throats. There are still infuriating flashes of fury and anger when Sungyoon does or says something that reminds you a little too much of Daeyeol, and sometimes you catch him glancing over with lips pressed together, eyes torn in grief. But it lessens. A little. Two weeks after that initial conversation, you find Sungyoon almost pleasant company. On some days, you even consider taking out the almost.

Until the horde attacks.

You and Sungyoon manage to run fast, to lose most of the zombies in a maze of abandoned buildings in a dusty city. The last few you shoot dead. When that’s over, you both breathe a sigh of relief.

Then Sungyoon faints, of all things, and when you finally drag him into one of the empty houses nearby and get him to come to, he can’t put weight on his leg without collapsing on the floor. The skin is tight, the limb swollen. Running that fast on whatever injury he had made it much worse.

Fuck.

Your hands aren’t those of a doctor, not even those of a biology major. All you can do is manipulate machines, not blood flow or heartbeats. Yours is dangerously high as you step close enough to touch his leg with trembling fingers, feeling the swelling flesh beneath your skin.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Sungyoon says when you remain silent, dropping your hands from his prone body. His voice is weak with pain but strong in anger, though whether it’s anger at you or something else you aren’t sure. “Maybe a bigger fracture.”

“How do you know?”

“Got a few injuries running track.”

You swallow. “How… how long?”

“Probably a few weeks.” He looks down.

Weeks. Several weeks. It took around two months for you and Daeyeol to make it two thirds across the country, and part of the way you were driving. On Sungyoon’s leg, you’ve only gone a third of the remaining third, if you’re being generous. Probably more like a quarter.

Three quarters of a third left. You may not have been in a math class in months, but you can still calculate that you have a quarter of the whole way to go.

A quarter. A whole damn quarter. Two or three weeks would cut that down at least by a third. A half if you moved fast enough. But now you’re stuck here for that amount of time, waiting for Sungyoon’s leg to heal.

He doesn’t say anything when you walk out of the room, doesn’t call you back when you disappear into the hall and close the door and put your head against the wall and scream, silent, as pressure builds behind your eyes to signal tears you won’t let fall.

Sungyoon definitely hears when you kick the wall. He also definitely hears your muffled grunt of pain, judging by the look he gives your foot when you walk back into the room, trying to keep the emotions off your face.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, putting your bag down with as little force as you can in the corner. “Need anything?”

He shakes his head. Swallows around what looks like a dry throat. You raise a disbelieving eyebrow and take a half empty bottle of water out of the bag, tossing it over. He catches it easily. “Don’t lie to me,” you say, successfully keeping a bite out of your tone. “If you’re thirsty, you’re thirsty. No sense in hiding it.”

Behind the bottle, Sungyoon nods. The plastic crinkles slightly in the silence as you turn back to the bag, staring at the dwindling mess left inside. Some more granola bars, two full bottles of water, a few empty bottles, clothes and a couple sheets. Sungyoon’s pack probably doesn’t have much more.

You sigh. One of you is going to have to go out and hunt for supplies and with Sungyoon’s fractured leg, it’s clear which one has to go.

There are zombies lurking everywhere. The bullets in your gun are the only ones you have left. You need ammunition, food, and water, and you have no idea where to find it.

Great.

The sun is still in the sky when you look out the window. There are three, maybe four hours left before sundown, which gives you a little time to at least scope out the neighborhood you’ve ended up in. “I’m going out,” you say, standing up. “If I’m not back in three hours, assume I’m fucked. Stay here.”

“And if you are fucked?”

The way Sungyoon says it simultaneously makes want to smile but also want to punch him in the face. Humor. It always seems to come back when you’re at your lowest points. “Then you’re fucked,” you say as flippantly as possible. “At least you have one water bottle and a granola bar to see you through a day or two.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say you hear Sungyoon snort as you leave the room. Though it was probably just the creaking door.

. . . . .

According to your watch, you come back two hours later with several bottles of water, a scraped leg, and two less bullets in your gun. “No food or ammunition, though there’s a cafeteria where I found some water,” you announce, wincing as you sit on the floor. “And zombies are still everywhere.”

“How do you think they find us?” Sungyoon asks, disconcertedly looking at the blood you’ve started dabbing off your leg. “And how did you get that?”

You pause, a strip of sheet pressed to your skin. “I… don’t know,” you admit. “I feel like they probably can’t see very well given their weird eyes and the fact that they still bump into buildings when trying to get at us. Hearing or smell?” You shrug, pouring a tiny bit of water onto the sheet. “And I got this running away from a group. Lucky they don’t move too fast or I wouldn’t have gotten back.”

“How many bullets left?”

“Ten.”

Sungyoon sucks in a breath.

“Yeah.” You glare at your gun, as though staring will somehow bring the two bullets back. “Might need to find some other sort of weapon.”

And transport. Like a bike or a car that miraculously still has enough fuel for you to hotwire. Though that’s secondary, considering you’re stuck here until further notice.

Silence falls as you finish cleaning your wound, wrapping it behind a strip of sheet with a sigh. “Hungry?”

He doesn’t answer. You frown. “Sungyoon?”

“You could go on. Alone.”

Your lips thin. Plastic crinkles in your grip. Just in time, you drop the water bottle in your hand before it explodes over the ground. “Hungry?” you ask again, voice choking.

Sungyoon doesn’t answer.

“Okay.” It takes all of your effort not to scream or shout or shake as you place a granola bar on the floor within his reach, along with a new bottle of water to replace the empty one sitting by his feet. “I’m going to take a nap. Say something if you need anything.”

He doesn’t say anything as you curl up on the floor, resting your head on your backpack. He doesn’t say anything as you turn around to face the wall.

He doesn’t say anything as you drift into an uneasy sleep.

. . . . .

Sungyoon doesn’t have a gun. Sungyoon doesn’t have a gun or bullets and the only other weapon you have is the blunt knife hidden in your backpack and you are thankful for this, because the next few days are unnerving.

He’s silent. Barely moves, never talks. He only ever eats when you threaten to shove food down his throat and doesn’t even half-smile the way he used to when you crack a sarcastic or morbid joke.

His words don’t leave you, either. You could go on. Alone.

It isn’t as though the thought hasn’t come to mind, you’ll admit, but every time it does, you brush it away. While you might have actually considered it when you first met, Sungyoon has grown on you (even in his silence) that you don’t feel comfortable with the idea of leaving him behind, even if he’s the one who brings it up.

You saw the loneliness and fear in his eyes that day you buried the bodies. You heard the emptiness in his voice when he said he didn’t have anywhere to go. You offered to let him come. You held out that offer even when he reminded you about his leg. Even a few weeks ago, when you were still restraining yourself from ripping out his throat every time he did something that reminded you too much of Daeyeol, you wouldn’t have rescinded your offer and left him alone unless he’d done something absolutely unforgivable. Which he never did.

So you won’t consider it. Even if it means taking longer to get to your mom. Beyond the fact that it just isn’t right, what would she say if she knew you abandoned someone you offered to take along?

But Sungyoon only ever speaks to bring it up, and every time, you pretend he never said anything. If you actually respond, you’re pretty sure it’ll deteriorate into either a yelling match or one of you just leaving the room. And considering Sungyoon can’t move, the one who leaves will be you.

The mental energy required for this conversation is too much for you to deal with right now.

But then you come back from a trip outside, limping on a re-bloodied leg and clutching a sheet to your bleeding arm an hour later than you told Sungyoon you’d be back. It’s dark when you enter the room, but the faint moonlight is just bright enough for you to see that the bed is empty and that the lump of Sungyoon is now on the floor.

The sheet drops from your hand.

“Sungyoon!”

A cracked cough sounds from the ground and you rush forward, ignoring the pain in your own limbs to lift him back up onto the bed. “What happened?” you ask, squinting into the darkness at where you think his leg is. “Did you make your leg worse?”

“You were late,” Sungyoon wheezes.

Frustration rises in your chest when he doesn’t answer the question, but you only nod tersely. “I had to hide for a while,” you say, trying to check his leg in the dark. “I’m sorry. But what were you doing?”

He still doesn’t answer. “Are you bleeding?”

“Sungyoon!” you snap, straightening. Your drop your bleeding arm and put weight on your injured leg, ignoring the resulting pain. “Answer me!”

“Why don’t you just leave?” Sungyoon half yells, burying his face in his hands. “Why are you injuring yourself because of me? I’m a nobody, I got your literal best friend killed, and now I’m preventing you from finding your mom –”

“SHUT UP!”

Sungyoon snaps his mouth shut. Swallowing hard, you do too, waiting for deadened groans to surround the house. Stupid, stupid, why did you yell? Keep your goddamn temper, will you?

One minute. Two. Five.

You finally let yourself breathe. “Are you done?” you snarl in a hushed whisper. “Are you fucking done?”

“Not until you either leave me here or give me a reasonable explanation as to why you still keep me around!”

“Do you think I’m heartless?” Your bag lands on the ground with a thud and you sit heavily beside it, giving in to the stinging of scrapes on your skin. “Do you seriously still think –”

“No, I think you’re stupid,” Sungyoon snaps.

“Stupid for what? Keeping you around when I’m the one who asked if you wanted to come along?” you retort. “It’s called basic human decency, Sungyoon!”

“And leaving me behind would be called the basic right decision for you!”

You scoff. “The right decision? Trading a human life for a week or two of time is the right decision?”

“You want to go and find your mom!” Sungyoon yells. “I’m only keeping you behind! We don’t even know each other – what even makes sense here?”

Everything in you wants to scream again that it’s not right, it’s not fucking right until you get it through Sungyoon’s thick skull, but just enough sense remains in your brain to force you to shut up and think.

Think. Why is he so set on this? And why are you so set on the opposite?

Guilt. He feels guilty that he’s keeping you behind. Which – understandable, if you calm down enough to think about it.

But how would you feel if you left him behind?

Unpleasant emotion rises in your chest. Guilt, horror, even pain at the thought of leaving Sungyoon. It’s alien – you’ve only felt this way about Daeyeol before he died, and certainly not around the few other travelers you met for brief moments on the way home, but somewhere along the way, Sungyoon has become a semblance of a companion.

A lump fills your throat. You think you know how Daeyeol felt, now, every time he heard or saw someone in need.

“You feel guilty,” you say slowly, leaning back against the wall. “Which I get. I think.”

“How –”

“Let me talk,” you interrupt, glaring. He probably can’t see it very clearly in the dark, but at least he shuts up. “You feel guilty for keeping me behind. Which I get, because a month ago I would barely have had second thoughts about moving on without you.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “As you should.”

“Will you quit it?” you snap. “If you feel guilty, think about how I would feel if I left you behind! You think I wouldn’t feel guilty? Instead of wallowing in your fucking guilt, try and think of me!”

And miraculously, Sungyoon falls silent.

“If you were in my position,” you continue, more softly, “what do you think you’d feel? If I asked you to leave me behind? Maybe I wouldn’t grudge you for it, but would you grudge yourself?”

Sungyoon remains quiet.

“It’s humanity,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. Daeyeol, I understand now. “It’s part of being human. I couldn’t leave you behind, not at this point when you can still be helped.” You swallow, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m not selfish enough to do otherwise.”

And as the silence continues, stretching as light fades in the window, you relax against the wall even with blood still trickling down your skin and onto the forgotten sheet. The last of your frustration sloughs away, the bitterness of blame and guilt gone from your throat.

Because you understand. You understand why Daeyeol tried to save everyone he could. You understand why he would risk his life to save a boy whose name he didn’t even know. You understand the guilt he would’ve felt if he didn’t try, didn’t lift a single finger to help, even if it meant possibly losing his life in the process.

You aren’t at that level. You may never be. You probably never will reach Daeyeol’s heights of selflessness, the quality you always admired him for. But you can understand this much.

It isn’t Sungyoon’s fault. It never was. As much as your brain wanted to believe it, it was no one’s fault – not Daeyeol’s for being selfless, not yours for failing to notice the zombie, not Sungyoon’s for being in trouble and needing help.

Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault. With every repetition, the three words grow clearer in your mind, a clear truth rather than a blurry mess you have to force yourself to decipher through gritted teeth every time they play in your head. It isn’t his fault.

It never was.

You blink a few tears away from your eyes, lowering your head to stare at Sungyoon’s dark body on the bed. “Let me see your leg,” you say softly, tongue free of the taste of blame. “You probably hurt it, falling off the bed.”

Sungyoon doesn’t protest, just lets you make your way over to the bed. Pale moonlight guides your hands as they skim over the swollen flesh. “It doesn’t hurt more,” he says, voice small.

“Doesn’t seem that much worse than yesterday,” you agree, pulling back. “You’re lucky. I didn’t run track, but I’m pretty sure falling isn’t supposed to do wonders for a fracture.” You frown. “What were you even doing when I got back, anyway?”

“You were late,” Sungyoon says. “By over an hour. I tried to see if I could find you.”

Something in your heart cracks at the tinge of fear in his words. He hides it well, but you can still detect the terror that frays his voice. It was in yours every time Daeyeol came back so much as a minute later than he told you, and in his every time you returned with a single scrape or cut on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, sitting on the floor. Your back presses against the bed. If you looked up, you could probably meet Sungyoon’s eyes, but exhaustion weighs your head and limbs. “I got chased by a few zombies and had to barricade myself in a building before they finally left. When I decided it was safe to go, they apparently hadn’t left, and I fell a few times trying to escape.”

Sungyoon sucks in a breath. “Didn’t you have your gun?”

“Too close quarters.” You shudder at the memory. “I didn’t have enough space to pull it out. Easier to just outrun them.”

Silence falls as you try to shake off the feeling of cold, dead hands trying to grab at your arm. Then Sungyoon sighs. “I’m sorry for pressing you,” he whispers, so soft you almost don’t hear him. “I just don’t like being useless. Or when I’m holding people back.”

You purse your lips. You can commiserate. But how do you make Sungyoon understand that he isn’t useless, even if his leg is costing you time?

“Think about it like this,” you finally say. “If it wasn’t for you, I might’ve gone insane by now. Might not even be alive. I don’t do well when I’m completely alone in my thoughts, especially not when I’m stressed.”

“Extroverted?”

“Not exactly.” You sigh. “Just… I sometimes spiral. And if I don’t have someone nearby me in those moments, I don’t make the best decisions.”

“… We never exactly talked much.”

“Just a presence helps,” you clarify. “Knowing someone’s there is enough. And…” Might as well be out with it. “I was scared of being alone. Terrified. Still am.” You swallow. “Even if it’s silent company, it means a lot to me.”

Sungyoon remains silent for a moment. You almost think you’ve said too much before he speaks. “Me too,” he mumbles. “I was scared, too. Of being alone.”

A pang of guilt resonates in your chest. “I’m sorry –”

“No apologies, right?” Sungyoon breaks in, reminding you of the conversation from just weeks ago. “It’s not your fault. I know that now.”

He does. A sharp certainty edges his words, still inlaid with sadness but free of bitter blame and anger. He has finally reconciled your actions with reality, the same way you’ve reconciled him and Daeyeol, too. And even if you still feel the weight of two murders on your hands, the knowledge that he doesn’t blame you anymore lifts your heart, just slightly.

“I guess I was afraid you would leave on your own terms, once you realized how much I was holding you back,” Sungyoon mumbles. “So I tried to make you go first. I thought if I was the one who made you leave…”

“Well, you can’t get rid of me now.” You lift your head to give him a lopsided smile. “I’m still here, Sungyoon. Doesn’t matter how bad your leg is, I’ll be with you until it heals and then some. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sungyoon breathes. Then – “Thank you for staying. And forgiving me.”

A small, genuine smile replaces the lopsided expression you wore before. “Thank you for forgiving me too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for enduring forgiveness :))

19 notes · View notes

chaos-of-the-abyss · 3 years

Text

Why Dany’s Motivation for Abolishing Slavery is Not “Condescending Compassion”

Anon: Someone I know irl keeps who’s a Dany anti keeps saying that they don’t like Dany because she has “condescending compassion” for the slaves she freed. I really want to argue back because I know they’re wrong, but I can’t articulate why. Could you give me an example of what condescending compassion really is, and explain why that’s not what Dany is showing?

Whew, it’s been a while since I got an ask about Dany, but I’m always open to defend her. This one was long and interesting for me, so I put it in post form rather than just answering the ask. I hope you don’t mind, anon.

Dany’s attitude towards the freedmen and the slaves she wants to free in the future is far from “condescending compassion.”

“Condescending Compassion is when a person feels magnanimous enough not to hold someone's 'faults' against them openly. They can't help being a commoner, idiot, mutant or simply wrong so it would be rude to treat them badly because of it. Instead, they resort to the much better idea that they should be sympathetic or even friendly to that lesser being, but of course, they won't really take them seriously.”

Source

This is not what Dany does. Here’s an actual example of condescending compassion. Under the cut for length and Fate/Grand Order spoilers, even though I really don’t think any of my followers know about or play it except for my constant spamming. Also, I will warn you that I ended up talking more about Fate/Grand Order than Dany because I was trying to explain the example, so... sorry about that. Also I got carried away

Someone who really exhibits a serious case of condescending compassion would be Goetia, the main antagonist of Fate/Grand Order Arc 1: Observer on Timeless Temple. Goetia is one of the seven Evils of Humanity, the Sin of Pity, which is, in essence, the embodiment of condescending compassion. To explain:

Goetia was essentially the collective consciousness of the 72 Demon God Pillars, who were familiars of King Solomon, the founder of magecraft. Solomon made a spell to manifest said collective consciousness as Goetia, so the Demon God Pillars could continue to protect humanity after his death.

As Solomon’s familiar, Goetia shared Solomon’s ability of Clairvoyance, which, in Solomon’s case, enabled him to see all of the past and all of the future. Over time, Goetia became enraged that Solomon refused to do anything about the constant death and suffering of humanity despite being an extremely powerful mage who could see all the hardships that had occurred and were in store (thanks to his Clairvoyance). Thus, after Solomon’s death, Goetia possessed Solomon’s corpse, obtaining the majority of his powers as well as nine of the ten rings given to Solomon by God, which was the source of a good bit of Solomon’s abilities. The tenth ring, however, was sent into the future by Solomon on God’s command, so Goetia wasn’t able to obtain it. That’s an important plot point for later.

Goetia waited until modern day (2018 I think?) and then used measures he had put in place to wipe out all of humanity. Not just the humans living in the present, but all of the humans who had lived in the past were killed, too. So think of it as everyone who exists, ever existed, or will exist, dead. The only survivors were the protagonists of Fate/Grand Order.

After incinerating humanity, Goetia planned to convert all of the destroyed mankind into magical energy, which he would then use to travel back in time to the planet’s creation. He wanted to start Earth all over again and establish a new humanity. However, this new humanity would be different from the old humanity; they would be unchanging, deathless organisms with no biological or emotional flaws, much like Goetia himself.

The thing is, Goetia loved humanity in his own way and wanted what he thought was best for them. It essentially goes like this: Humans know so little, while his knowledge, through his Clairvoyance, borders on omniscience. Humans turn on and hurt each other for their own self-interest, while he is capable of thinking and acting on a much wider scale. Humans have to die eventually, unlike him who’s immortal, and so everything that every single human ever did, in Goetia’s mind, was for nothing. Why would it have meaning, if their only possible option is to die eventually?

Poor things, right? He has to help them. They came out wrong. They’re so weak and hopeless, so he’s going to destroy their existence and their history and create them anew, the right way. (Aka his way.)

The way he loves humanity is belittling. No one wants help from someone who thinks of them like that. This quote is a pretty good summation of his love for humanity, borne of a legitimate case of condescending compassion.

“Do you think being forced to watch the lives of humans is an interesting task, one worthy of me!? I’m sick of it! No matter what happens, they just disappear, and only fear remains! Every human’s life is a story of hate and despair! It’s a terrible thing to watch!”

He invalidates all of humanity’s struggles, every single human’s life, because he’s not human himself. It’s not true that death means that everything that one ever does is pointless, but Goetia, being an immortal being unfamiliar with the concept of death, someone who doesn’t have to worry about an end ever coming to him, doesn’t understand that (for now). This is displayed in the multiple times he asks the protagonist and Mash, the deuteragonist, why. Why do they keep fighting, knowing that they can’t beat him? Even if they somehow could – why do they keep fighting, knowing that they’ll all die one day? Why do they keep fighting, when it’s so pointless?

But then, the basis of Goetia’s immortality is destroyed when Solomon reappears, having actually been one of the protagonist’s main allies disguised as a doctor. Remember that tenth ring that Solomon sent to the future under God’s instruction? Although Goetia has the majority of Solomon’s powers now that he possesses his corpse and the remaining nine rings, the tenth ring was something he never obtained. As it turns out, the real Solomon retrieved that ring, which was used as a catalyst to summon him, when he manifested in the modern era.

Solomon now uses the power of the gathered ten rings to perform his trump card – The Time of Parting Hath Come, I Am He Who Surrenders the World: Ars Nova – to return all of the powers God gave him back to God. In essence, he “closes the curtain” on himself, everything he has ever done, and everything he’s ever created, including Goetia. Ars Nova removes Solomon entirely from existence (rip), but it also removes Goetia’s immortality, and then the protagonist manages to land a fatal blow on him.

A little before Solomon uses Ars Nova and vanishes, he explains to Goetia why he didn’t try to change humanity the way Goetia did, despite seeing all of the past and future and consequently being exposed over and over again to how inevitable humans’ deaths were.

“That’s what you fail to understand, Goetia. Of course nothing is eternal, and pain awaits us all in the end. But that doesn’t make life a story of despair. Not at all. It’s a fight against death and separation in what precious little time one is given. It’s a repetition of meeting and parting, despite knowing there’s an end. ...Humans’ stories are dazzling, brief journeys, like the twinkling of the stars. They are stories of love and hope.”

At first, when he was still immortal, Goetia refused this logic, saying that it’s “deception” on Solomon’s part. Now, though, with Solomon having used Ars Nova and the protagonist having landed a fatal blow, Goetia is dying. For the first time, he’s confronted with the possibility of an end to his existence. He has no way, absolutely no means, to prevent his death now. Yet, when the protagonist attempts to escape the now-crumbling dimension in which Goetia made his temple, Goetia says this. (And I cut out a lot, because this is a long-ass monologue.)

“We finally understand each other. I’m not going to let you leave alive. You will die here with me. ...My dream is in ruins. Everything I did here in this temple, all the time I spent planning... All of it, for naught. [...] No matter what I do here, now, I cannot redeem my failure. Killing you will change nothing. ...This is a meaningless battle. This would have been an unthinkable choice for me before. But...

...Yes, indeed. I also have my pride. Or rather, I do now. I now understand human mentality. Now that I have a limited, mortal life, I finally understand. [...] My name is Goetia. I am the one who used humanity to destroy humanity. The one who strove for what lay beyond. A climax with no one around. ...I strove for an empty wish that none truly wanted. I am born now and I shall perish now. This battle may be without resolution or reward, but I shall put my entire being on the line to crush you. ...My sworn enemy. My hatred. My destiny. I want you to witness this. This brief moment is now my story. This brief but precious time has given the creature called Goetia true life.”

This quote is so poignant. Although Goetia attempts to pull a “taking you with me” on the protagonist, this is a rare example of the trope that is not meant to paint the villain in a final negative light, as a petty sore loser. Rather, it’s an indication that Goetia finally understands Solomon’s view on humanity, why humans strive so hard despite their lives being so short, and why the protagonist and Mash put their everything into fighting him despite knowing that they’ll inevitably die no matter what the outcome is. Humans’ time on earth is, in Goetia’s own words, “brief but precious.” He actually echoes what Solomon said about humans’ stories being “dazzling, brief journeys”, despite having so vehemently rejected it when he was immortal.

There’s no point in Goetia killing the protagonist. Just like he once believed human life to be meaningless, it should be meaningless whether he wins or not; he’ll die no matter what, and his plans are already foiled. When he was immortal, he never would have thought like this.

But Goetia isn’t immortal now. He has a finite lifespan; in fact, he’s about to die. There’s nothing he can do to save himself. Yet, he still wants to take the protagonist down with him, simply because he “has his pride.” And what’s more? Even if he loses, he wants the protagonist to witness his end. He asks to be seen, acknowledged, and remembered, despite all his work having been for nothing.

Both of those desires are human things. Goetia now knows what it’s like to be human. His case of condescending compassion is closed; he no longer looks down on humanity, because he understands them. He empathizes with them. He experiences being human.

But Dany? She never once looked down on the slaves she wanted to free. She doesn’t think, “Oh, poor things. They can’t possibly help themselves, not with how frail and simple they are. They’re so vulnerable, so delicate, so abused. Let me save them.” No.

Dany always understood what it feels like to be owned. She was abused by her brother for years, with no means to protect herself from him. Then she was sold to a man more than twice her age and made into a glorified sex slave, again with no way to defend herself. She’s already experienced something very much like what the slaves she strives to free have gone through. And even though she later gains agency and power, she never forgets what being owned, being unable to fight back, is like.

As the hours passed, the terror grew in Dany, until it was all she could do not to scream. She was afraid of the Dothraki, whose ways seemed alien and monstrous, as if they were beasts in human skins and not true men at all. She was afraid of her brother, of what he might do if she failed him. Most of all, she was afraid of what would happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gave her up to the hulking giant who sat drinking beside her with a face as still and cruel as a bronze mask.

A Game of Thrones – Daenerys II

"There speaks one who has been neither." Dany's nostrils flared. "Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I ... my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?"

A Storm of Swords – Daenerys II

Safe. The word made Dany's eyes fill up with tears. "I want to keep you safe." Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. "No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don't always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …"

A Dance with Dragons – Daenerys II

More than anything else, Daenerys always understood that her brother sold her as a bargaining chip – his own sister, and he uses her like some animal hide to trade off. She understood that she could do nothing to defend herself when she was with Viserys, and later, with Drogo. If they wanted to hurt her, no one would have stood up for her, no one would have protected her, and if she tried to protect herself, she would have been punished. She was in the same position as an object; no rights and no guarantees of basic decency. Dany experienced that fear and dehumanization firsthand. She empathizes with the slaves she wants to free in the way that Goetia, only at the end of his life, empathized with humans.

That’s why she wants to abolish slavery. She went through that horror firsthand, and she doesn’t want anyone else to have to go through it again. She wants to protect people from it, because she knows how awful and disgusting and traumatic it is.

TLDR: It’s a complete and gross mischaracterization to write off Dany’s motivations for abolishing slavery as “condescending compassion”. It’s spitting on everything that she suffered from Viserys and from Drogo. It’s empathy, not condescending compassion, that motivates her.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys defense squad #the queensguard #asoiaf meta #asoiaf quotes #my asoiaf meta #goetia #solomon #fate series meta #fate series quotes #fate series #fate grand order #fate/grand order

122 notes · View notes

monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Detectives by Chance: Chapter 8- The Final Bow

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

A/N: This is the end. The end of the first ever series, the first ever fanfics I ever wrote. It's melancholic you know? Bidding adieu to Open Heart and Detectives by Chance all at one? Anywho, I hope you enjoy this piece💕

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Rating: Teen (to be safe)

Warnings: Blood, Murder, Swear Words, Gun Violence

I would recommend reading the previous parts first, because I am sure this makes little sense without knowing what happened previously.

Read the previous chapters here!

The trail from the crumpled door to the back ground felt likes hours of navigating through the blazing desert, no one in sight.

The scarlet memoirs of the wounds that now covered her skin did not give her much relief either. Blood soaked into her shirt, colouring it red from cream at a steady rate. Lazy tracks formed as solitary drops slipped down to meet the ground.

Papers clutched with a death grip, her resolve did not waver. After all the goose chase she had done in the manor, she was sure she could do this. But then again, there was not much of a choice there.

Ethan's POV:

A hazy screen appeared before his orbs as they slowly, timidly, fluttered open, as if scared to look around. A blackness had spread around him, and his mind could not make out if it was a musty old dungeon or some place else.

Soft scents of the intoxicating vanilla and bluebell perfume gently let him know of their presence, and he sighed in relief.

Wherever he was, he was close to her.

And with that knowledge came a subtle sense of calm, a realization that as long as he was near her, he wouldn't mind even dying.

He just wanted her, his strength, with him.

He tried to get up, and the wince of pain came almost immediately. His legs ached due to the cramped position in the short space of wherever. As he managed to pull himself up from the sleeping position, a very faint jingle of keys could be heard in the background of his groans.

Then with a click, the front door flew open and he unclearly made out a thud of some kind of folder in the front passenger seat. Soon the driver's seat was occupied as well, and the engine was raved to life.

The scent of vanilla and bluebell grew strong and he knew it was her.

"Pooja?" He whispered so lightly that for a second he wondered if he had even spoken it aloud.

"Ethan! Oh thank fucking god you are- Ah!" She was cutoff mid sentence by a horrifying but muted shriek which had escaped as she tried to close the door.

"Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" Worry laced his tone as her other hand painfully completed the supposedly easy task.

"You are okay and I've everything we need to save Lex & Mark. That's all that matters, E."

"What about you?"

But her attention had already shifted to the driving the automobile. She had always been like that, too unconcerned about herself. As well as he knew her, he was sure she had been biting her lip a tad bit harder with every moment just to keep painful screams at bay.

"It doesn't matter."

A shrill roar suddenly invaded the eerie, uncomfortable silence of the abandoned area. The voice was human, but the intensity of the sound reminded them more of an enraged tiger trapped in a cage, ready to pounce at the chance of freedom.

Staying here for a second more could be a dangerous idea.

A slow pain spread though his forehead, an after-effect of whatever that was forcefully injected during his investigation of the murky place, too dishevelled to call it even an office, let alone a hospital. The ache became all-too-consuming, his struggle to keep his eyes open turning futile. The blackness grasped him steadily as consciousness bid adieu and the dangers of the world in front of him, at bay.

End of Ethan's POV

Pooja's clutch on the steering wheel was so hard that the fingernails that dug into its material left deep moon shaped indents, as a mark of their visit. The teeth pressed so deep into her lip that it had drawn blood. The gap of the missing tooth felt like an aftermath of the reckless rescue operations she had led at the building.

Why did her mind refused to cooperate with her now, when she had finally made her way out?

Another line of thought began to form, but before it spread it's being, a second horrifying scream broke through the audible silence like a dagger.

Sweat of hardwork was now the cold sweat of fear. A sense of great danger that lingered now completely flooded every chamber of her heart & she refused to stop.

Digging her teeth into her lips, tears streaming as every movement made her want to shriek and wail in agony, she revved the engine, turned the steering & fled out of there.

————————————

A rash drive followed. She sped through the roads, going straight without a turn until she was sure the they were not being followed.

A safe distance away, she stopped. Every moment was precious now, but she was done. She could not do this anymore.

Hell, she could not do anything anymore.

The left portion of her shirt that she wore was now soaked in scarlet, the stench of blood growing on her. She doubted that if she wasn't a doctor, she would have thrown up or passed out by now.

Pooja looked behind, the scarce daylight making it a difficult job to be done. She was quite sure that Ethan had been overcome by another bout of unconsciousness and the feeling of helplessness spread through her chest, forming a hollow through its path.

Her head felt light too. The injuries were starting to show effects, although the overwhelming sense of failure and danger had already numbed their pain.

Taking a deep breath, and another, and another, she tried to centre herself, though not to much avail.

Something she had realized was now, the necessity to keep moving was a need & not a want.

A slow kick on the gas pedal & she carried on her journey to the final destination.

———————��————

At the police station, the unfolding of events occurred like a film sequence set on fast forward.

Pooja had barely made it there, an urgency ringing through her mind, a constant worry that she was late, too late. But thankfully, she wasn't.

Dragging her foot (her entire body, at this point) she entered and almost fell face down on the station floor.

Hastily handing over the evidence she had meticulously collected and suffered all the injuries for, she tried to explain what she had found.

Officers repeatedly asked her to calm down, but she refused. The three of them, Ethan, Alex and Mark, They were her family. They always mattered more than her. They always will.

At last, all she managed was to point a finger at her car, before her body gave up on the fight. A small smile of satisfaction decorated her tired, overworked features. It was a win. A well deserved one. A strange sense of pride, overwhelmed her as she slowly faded into unconsciousness.

————————————

It has been 36 hours since the ghastly raid of Miles's manor.

The evidence collected opened a lot of tied knots, the page from Miles's diary, even though muddy, serving priceless for the investigation. Almost everything got crystal clear from it.

Pooja underwent a major surgery, and was still under bedrest. Minor to Major, there were a plethora of injuries that needed to be treated. Recovery was going to take a long time but her response had been up to the mark.

As for Mark and Alex, the court deemed them not guilty for any of the charges made against them & they were released. The very instant they rushed to the hospital, tears streaming down endlessly both in gratitude & in worry.

Miles Danvers, as expected, was not found. The manor was investigated after the release of Mark & Alex, a big mistake, and nothing was left behind except a few beeping machines & broken furniture. The investigators now await Pooja's recovery for interrogation & to close the case as soon as possible because stories of a deranged murderer roaming around the dark streets doesn't exactly spark a rush of serotonin through the citizens.

Meanwhile in a dark, gloomy alleyway:

It had been seconds too long. The man's pace faltered at slightest sounds, fingers fidgeting the two ring that shone under whatever little light reached the area.

Why were they not here yet?

But his wait was cut off soon. Muffled footsteps echoed like, every step closer increasing their intensity. Even though he had been expecting them, his heart leapt up his throat, which tightened in fear.

He turned around, not being able to make out their faces. But at the time, he found it to be a blessing in disguise, because he was sure he would have thrown up from the fright of being the cause of their anger.

A hand extended out, the silver bracelet dangling from it gleaming in moonlight. It gripped the lapel of his coat, and a scared murmur escaped him without caution.

The person on the other side, let out a slow growl of rage, boiling blood coursing through their veins. The man's teeth chattered, the cold pressing against his skin even more as a chill ran down his spine.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the touch of cold metal against his neck made him shudder.

It was... It was a gun.

"Thi..s, Th..., This w-was not what, w-what we plann-nned upon." He quietly muttered, shocked that sound still escaped through the dryness of his throat.

"What were you supposed to do?" The person, no, the man, That man, growled, the evil of his heart almost visible in the spoken words.

The man stood soundless. It took two hard knocks of the metal to make him speak.

"K-K-Kill"

"And what did you do? Let her escape with a bagful of evidence." The words were being hissed now, with so much intensity that the man was surprised that he hadn't peed his pants yet.

"And since" The gun was displaced and he let out a sigh of relief. "You did such wonderful work, you deserve to be rewarded."

And before the man could even process what just happened, a single shot pierced through the fog settling around, and hit right in the forehead.

Seconds later, his lifeless body met its origin & any sign of life in the alleyway seized to exist.

End Note: Open Heart ended and it feels unreal. I have had a weird, wonderful journey with it. I would have never come to tumblr, make edits or write fanfics if not for it. It is a series which many of us, me included, hold close to our heart.

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who provided their precious thoughts over the past chapters of this series. I always have & always will hold Detectives by Chance close to my heart, because it has some of my earliest fanfics & it was the beginning of a wonderful journey for me. So if you took your time & have followed this story from the start, I am so very grateful for you. Thank you❤

With OH ending, many have chosen to continue in this fandom & some have decided to move on. Whatever your decision may be, I hope you be happy & have a good time ahead💕

Detectives by Chance gets a Bonus part, with no relation to the storyline, like not an epilogue, but something that will answer the lingering questions. As for if this is really the end of DbC or not, I will let you guys decide that😉

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

26 notes · View notes

nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 4

Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2668

Gavin was far away from being 'happy'. But he listened interested in what yn had to say in the briefing. He was impressed how much she had found out within … one day. She had a bunch of files, several papers and she also had prepared a report for each one of them with the important details. If Gavin had a good day, he could do just the half of it. If any.

"So, our guy is Joseph 'The Joker'.", she stopped as she saw Gavin trying to suppress the laughter behind his hand, "Come on, Gavin. Laugh. Or otherwise you will explode.", she said amused.

"That is the stupidest name on earth.", Gavin said chuckling.

Yn watched her partner who was looking so much better when he was grinning, "Yes, that's why I suggest we should call the whole case 'JoJo'.", just as she had said it, Gavin laughed out loud, crying with tears.

Gavin’s amusement was contagious and yn joined him while she pinched the bridge of his nose.

Even Hank started to rumble with laughter, "Yeah, we should take this name. It won't get any better, I guess. Where can we find this guy?"

"Maybe in a circus with clowns?", Gavin suggested still grinning.

Yn chuckled but shook her head to get back on track, "Actually, he deals in Liberty park.

Twenty minutes later, all four were sitting in the 'Liberty Park Café' for 'observation'. For normal people, it wasn't that easy to detect a dealer. But for three cops and an android, it shouldn't be that hard. At least, they could disguise their work with some coffee and snacks. Mostly, coffee.

The group took a table near a window to have the park in sight. It was snowing again and therefore, too cold to be outside for too long. Because they had no picture of Joseph, they had to rely on their observation skills.

"Could this be our guy?", Connor asked and pointed at a guy with long hair and a beard. He stood underneath a tree with his hands buried in the pockets of his long coat.

Yn took a grape of the fruit salad and threw it into her mouth before she looked at the guy. It was the third guy Connor had found suspicious, "Well…", yn started, considering the possibility but then, a woman appeared and walked straight to the guy. She hugged and kissed him before they wandered off with linked arms.

Gavin looked annoyed at Connor with crossed arms, "Wow, tin can, you're the best Investigator ever."

“It’s not that I could detect drugs from this distance.”, Connor defended himself.

“Then, I don’t see why you’re even here.”

“Because yn asked me-”

“You asked him?”, Gavin asked exasperatedly and looked at her with a dark expression.

She raised her hands in surrender, “He’s Hank’s partner so, of course, he’s on board. I’m sure he will play a good role in this case.”, she said and once again, she noticed Gavin’s mood. He was on the edge of the next outburst.

Luckily, Hank was this time the one who spotted the next suitable candidate for their suspect and stopped Gavin to say whatever he wanted next, “I guess, this could be our guy.”

The other three of the group looked at a guy in his twenties. He wore some pair of jeans with holes, a t-shirt of an old grunge rock band and a black, well-worn, leather jacket. His long, blonde, greasy looking hair was tied to a ponytail. He leant casually against a street lamp as if he was waiting for someone and at the same time as if he would have all the time in the world.

“It could be JoJo.”, yn said with a slow nod. His appearance coincided with the few details she had found in the statements. The hair, height and surprisingly, the t-shirt were the same.

“It could be just another guy waiting for a hooker.”, Gavin grunted. In his eyes, nothing of this was worth his time.

“Hey, JoJo!”, a guy on a bicycle called out and waved as he passed the grunge guy.

All three pairs of eyes were landing on Gavin who rolled with his eyes, “Oh, please! That can’t be true.”, he said and wiped over his face with his hand.

"So, that's our guy, then.", Connor said with a pleased smile. He was a big fan of having a clear suspect.

The group observed JoJo for a while. Hank ordered new coffee and as their cups were refilled, several people had passed JoJo. Some were just greeting him. Some had talked with him, maybe buying drugs, “Couldn’t we just arrest him?”, Connor asked.

“We could but if yn’s theory is right, he could lead us to his boss.”, Hank explained.

"He has a type.", yn said suddenly.

"A type? A type of what?", Connor asked confused. Somehow, he had the feeling that whenever he was learning one new thing there were two other things coming his way, like these human comments.

Yn looked at Connor with a grin, "A type of woman. He ignores the blondes. But he looks after the brunette."

"No!", Gavin called out and looked serious at yn. His brows were knitted together and yn saw his eyes sparkling darkly. There he was again: her all too protective partner… or at least, he tried to be that.

Her smirk grew bigger, "It's a good idea, I think."

Gavin gritted his teeth, "And I say, no!"

"What is going on?", Connor asked Hank low while he watched the exchange between yn and Gavin.

"I'm not really sure…", Hank answered.

Before Hank could speak out his assumption, Gavin was faster to explain, "She wants to meet him.", he said coldly.

"What?", Connor asked surprised and looked at yn.

"It's the best chance we have. I'll go over to him, flirt a bit and bug him. Then, we will get him and his boss. We will have a chance to get the whole circus. It won't take me more than ten minutes.", yn said smirking, leant back in her seat with crossed arms and watched Gavin almost exploding in front of her eyes.

"And my answer is no!", he called out, which caused the other guests to look at the small group.

Yn looked challenging at Gavin, "Good that I haven't asked you for permission."

"Then, I will go with you.", Gavin demanded, thinking of himself as smart.

Yn’s eyes grew big. She looked at her partner with a confused expression, "Are you nuts? How shall I flirt with him when you're around?", she said and gestured to him and his appearance.

Gavin saw something in her eyes, in the way she was looking at him. Not sure if he was right, if she was giving him a compliment in some way or not. Was it possible that she could see him in a certain way?

"I can go with her.", Connor offered and broke Gavin’s train of thought and the connection he had with yn.

"You?", Gavin asked spitefully and sizesing up the android.

"Yes... I could act as her servant android. Even now, there are still androids out there who are serving humans. It would be no big deal.", Connor explained.

Yn was already hooked, "Best idea!I told you he will play a role in this case. So, we have a plan. Tomorrow, we will bug this fucker."

“Gavin, no!”, yn called out. Again and again, Gavin wished he had listened to her instead of being hard headed to stop the crazy guy on his own. Once again, Gavin suffered through the events of the last case in his dream. And once again, he heard the shots from the guy. Then, he shot the guy on his own just to find yn lying on the ground bleeding. Gavin ran over to her, turned her around and tried to wake her up but she was already unconscious. He knelt next to her, pressing his hand on her bleeding wounds to stop the blood until the ambulance was coming. He even drove to the hospital to stay by her side.

Two long hours, he was waiting til the doctor came to him, telling Gavin that she was alright and would be okay. Gavin even waited til he could visit her in the room a few hours later. Slowly, and with shaking knees, Gavin went to her room, opened the door and slipped carefully in.

Gavin’s blood was running cold because of the scene in front of him. Next to yn’s bed sat Connor, holding her hand in his with intertwined fingers. Yn was already awake, looking at the android with a love filled glance. Connor looked from yn at Gavin and back at yn, “Look who’s there. Gavin came to see you.”, Connor said softly.

“Gavin? Who’s Gavin?”, she said without even looking up…

It was three o’clock in the morning and Gavin started up from the dream, from the nightmare, with a racing heart. Once again, he was soaked with sweat. He raked his fingers through his wet hair and without a second thought, he stood up to go into his bathroom. He splashed cold water into his face several times. As he looked up into the mirror, he saw a pale guy with dark shadows under his eyes. Gavin grabbed a bottle of shampoo and threw it violently into the shower, “This god damn, fucking android!”, he yelled out. Within a few days, Connor had been able to get closer to yn. Gavin feared this android would be even able to win her over. Maybe Gavin should gather all his courage to speak with her as long as there was time or otherwise, the android could snatch her from under his nose. But how should he do that without risking their friendship?

Yn rummaged through her bag with clothes. She already wore some leather boots, a tight fitting and low cut, black jeans and searched for the blood red tank top. She had made her hair and she even had put makeup on with too much mascara and eyeliner for the most dramatic look. Yn found the tank top and donned it over her head. As she pulled it down, a movement in the mirror caught her attention, "Voyeurism, huh? That's a crime.", she said, smirking.

Gavin closed slowly up to her with his hands stuffed into his front pockets of his jacket, "I know. We worked on some of these cases. Listen-", he said softly, collecting all his courage and searching for the right words.

"I know what you want to say and yes, I will be careful. Connor is by my side. You and Hank on the other side of the street by the café. Nothing will happen. This is easy. You don't have to worry this much.", yn said reassuringly while she donned her leather jacket over the top. The outfit would be a bit too cold for the weather but she wanted to flirt with the suspect and so, she had to show off some skin. She even pulled down the top some more so that her décolleté got more visible.

Gavin’s eyes fell on that view which caused his mind to go blank for a moment. All in all, she was very distracting, dressed up like this and he had difficulties to focus back on what he actually wanted, "Uhm… I… It's just... There's something I have to tell-", he tried insecurely, not sure if this was a good idea at all. If Gavin would go this way there was no going back and he knew that.

The door of the locker room opened once again and Hank took the decision away from Gavin, "Yn, Fowler wants to see you.", the Lieutenant said and left again.

"Coming!”, yn called out as a response and stowed away her bag and stuff before she turned back to Gavin, “Get ready. We will leave soon.", she said with a soft pat on his chest and a smile on her lips.

Gavin looked after her. He huffed out, annoyed about himself as the door opened once again. Yn’s head appeared in the door, "Oh, and, by the way, this shirt you wear? It looks very good. The color suits your eyes.", she said, winked at him and left again. Gavin smiled softly and felt his cheeks getting warmer. He was sure that she had no idea what she was doing to him but he enjoyed these small moments. They were all he got.

Then, it was showtime. Hank and Gavin stood across the walkway at a bar table with two cups of coffee to go as a disguise to be able to watch the scene. JoJo was already there, leaning at the same street lamp like the day before. Now and then, he greeted someone. Then, Gavin watched yn coming down the way, still in some distance. She said something to Connor that let the android chuckle. Connor looked down at yn with a huge smile and as she looked up at him, her smile was matching the android’s one. Pain shot through Gavin as he got reminded of his dream from the night before. It was a horrible nightmare with an end that never happened like this but his mind was determined to let him suffer even more. As if it wouldn’t be enough to get reminded of yn being shot all the time. No, now the android had to be in his dreams, as well.

“It’s good that Connor kept his LED ring.”

“W-what?”, Gavin asked. Hank had pulled him out of his thoughts and this time, Gavin was thankful for the old man to be there, even if he would never admit that loudly.

Hank nodded into the direction of Connor and yn, they almost had reached JoJo, “I mean without the LED ring, Connor would look more like her handsome boyfriend than her servant.”, Hank said amused.

Gavin observed the two and wasn’t happy what he saw. Connor was dressed completely in black and with his height he looked like a bodyguard. The way they interacted told that they seemed to be very close to each other. Gavin was looking forward to the end of this bullshit, his nerves were already blank but the case just had started. It would last a bit longer til everything would fall back to normal again without Connor and Hank being around them all the time.

Then, yn passed JoJo and as she had expected, the dealer was looking after her. Much to her delight, he even whistled after her as she swayed her hips a bit more provokingly. Yn stopped and turned around. JoJo was confident, very confident, he smirked at her and wasn’t impressed by Connor as he stepped a bit forward. Yn gave him a sign to stay where he was before she walked over to JoJo with a flirty smirk on her lips.

The longer she was talking to the dealer, the more Gavin became nervous. It got on his nerves to see JoJo coming closer to yn step by step. She was laughing about whatever he said. She leant forward to be closer to him whenever she could. And Connor just stood there, observing the scene, looking out for her - as planned.

Hank noticed that Gavin was annoyed by the scene. Since yn had began to talk with JoJo, Gavin had started to torture his empty cardboard cup. He was drumming on the lid and scratching on the material the longer the whole scene lasted.

As JoJo touched yn on her hip while he leant forward to whisper something into her ear, Gavin squashed the cardboard cup completely with his knuckles turning white.

"You know, Reed, that's the reason why you couldn't do Connor's job.", Hank said and pointed at Gavin's hand.

"Shut the fuck up.", Gavin muttered angrily and just relaxed as yn and Connor left the scene finally.

#dbh #dbh connor #gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #dbh gavin reed #dbh gavin #detroit become human #detroit become human gavin #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

52 notes · View notes

anotherbeingsworld · 3 years

Text

Fly High

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey Valentine and Teresa Martinez.

Summary: The small moments with Mr.s Martinez were playing in their mind a year after the inevitable happens.

TW: death.

A/N: hi! I am sorta-back in the writing game? This idea has been living in my mind as OPH is coming. Its somewhat a tribute to Mrs. Martinez, and with a small touch of backstory between Bryce and Casey. I’m so sorry for not writing as much as I did before, uni is almost coming to an end for the 2nd semester which i am quite excited for. But, this story is dear to my heart. Idk why I love to write death, as i somewhat resonates it with life, but...this really is something I am very proud of. I like to dedicate this to those who wants to catch their dreams but, they couldn’t. Mrs. Martinez really gave us good advice, and...I’d like for it to stay in our minds. Also, I’m dedicating this to those who have leave a mark in my life. Its something that still blows me away everyday. Thank you, and enjoy! <3

MY MASTERLIST

"I would take a 99% chance of dying over spending the next ten years in this hospital. To have even a 1% chance of exploring the world... of finally standing on the steps of Sacre-Coeur... I would give everything."—Mrs. Martinez.

---------

365 days ago.

“Teresa Martinez were found dead at her hotel room in Buenos Aires.” was the topic in the hospital that day. The news of Mr.s Martinez leave the hospital devastated, as the world seems to stop for Casey.

It doesn’t feel real. It’s not real, she is living her life happily in Paris...visiting the Sacre-Coeur. She can’t be...

The thoughts were interrupted by the sound of ambulance coming in, a trauma case distracting her thoughts. She quickly joined in the other interns in the scene, but her mind falls onto Mr.s Martinez; the advice she left. A wisdom, as her passing is similar to a shooting star finally burns out. A light that has to be left behind. The days went by quicker, a trial, law-suit occurs in a blink of an eye.

---------

PRESENT DAY

It was a day of remembrance today, as Bryce and Casey make their way to the hospital in a slow pace. It was an emotional day for all of them, as all their memories were playing. All the laughter and joy, it was one of her favorite things about her. Her cheery persona was the heart of Edenbrook, and without her; a light has been burn, but a star has obtain someone special to keep on shining them from a far.

Bryce was awfully quiet as well, as they walked down the road after spending their night together. Words were unspoken the night before, as the comfort was worth more than a sentence, a word and even a rhyme.

Casey found herself to a stop, at the entrance. A distance away, trying to calmed herself down. He broke the silence by placing his hand on her cheek, caressing it with a small smile on his face.

‘You cam do this okay, we are all here for you.’ He said before pulling her into a kiss, as they melt into an embrace before going their separate ways. He stops in the mid of the hallway, his eyes fall onto her as they were met with a pair of emeralds that is already looking at him.

They both resume their day, as the memories followed them throughout the hour. A reminder that she had left a mark to everyone in Edenbrook including one Casey Valentine and Bryce Lahela.

----------

C A S E Y

The voices around her fades, as she sat on the empty bench, letting out a sigh as she was dismissed by Dr. Mirani upon her mistake today in the patient room. She remembers the embarrassment as the other interns let out a chuckle upon her mistake, moments before she was chewed. It was her second week as an intern, and she has made mistakes; what happened to her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by someone occupying a seat the opposite of her. It was Mrs Martinez letting out a breath with her I.V stand on her side, looking at her with concern. She smiled upon her arrival as she remembers the events on their first meet which involves herself being lost in the hospital during her first day with Elijah.

Weeks later, she became close to her as she learns upon her love towards travelling, visiting new places around the world; from the Bright Lights of Paris to the city of Madrid. And, the thought of the postcards hanging in her room bring joy to her, as a reminder of her own dream to be a doctor.

“Casey dear, what’s with the long face?” She spoke, as Casey lets out a sigh.

“I just, I messed up again. It’s been a month, and I tend to get distracted with everything; friendships, the competition, dreading patients, and everything feels too overwhelming.” She burried her face in her hands, trying to hide her expression from the woman in front of her.

After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes once more to be met with a concerned looking Mr.s Martinez.

“Dear, you are not human if you never messed up. If I ever got a dollar for every time I took a wrong turn in life, I believe I can afford a mansion in the city of Stars.”

Casey lets out a chuckle upon the mention of it, as the smile slowly appear on her face.

“I think I’d be able to pay up my student loans that way.”

There was a ripple of laughter between them, lighten up the mood releasing a knot on her shoulders that has been there for the day.

“Indeed, but I saw you work that day; and I believe you are going places dear. You are unique, and the world is not ready to see the light in you dim. For the last decades of living, I made a huge mistake of not pursuing my dreams; and I don’t want to see you give up this dream Casey.” Her voice is demanding yet calm giving her a sense of hope.

They were interrupted by Danny who is in the midst of a scavenger hunt for one Mr.s Martinez who apparently has left her room once again.

“There you are Mr.s Martinez, its time for your medicine once again.” Danny said as he smiles upon their interaction.

“I guess my time is up. I had fun chatting with you dear, I’ll see you soon.” Mr.s Martinez left with Danny leaving her alone with the wild thoughts once again.

But, this moment; she received a sense of hope. Maybe it will be okay after all.

----------

B R Y C E

The first day as a surgical intern at Edenbrook. He was finally a surgeon, all those years of bartending was worth it. His confidence somewhat pushed people away, as he shrugs the feeling off. He came here to be the best, and not to find friends.

“Welcome interns. Today is the start of your careers as a surgical intern, and I am ecstatic for what all of you could bring to the table.” the Dr. Harper Emery exclaims happily, as she eyed the crowd of surgeons.

There was a round of applause, as the energy in the room was accumulated.

“I will introduce you to Dr. Tanaka who is one of your surgical residents. He will be guiding you through this journey. Some of you will fall, quit, but some of you will rise and it will be worth it in the end.”

After the introduction was done, the crowd was dismissed as the first rounds of the day begun for the surgical interns.

His heart was filled with excitement, a new beginning. A new slate, and a new chance to not become known. That is the whole reason from the beginning. He is Bryce Lahela, a surgeon. Nothing else more.

As the days go by, he has been able to witness the procedures that were taught during his years at medical school. His gaze was equivalent to one who looks at their favorite food which is filled with awed and joy. As someone who would fixed up the problems at home, surgery made him feel fulfill once again. It is giving him a purpose even after everything that has happened.

“Dr Lahela, earth to Dr. Lahela.” A voice called for him brought him back from his subconscious.

“Yes, I’m here.” He replied as the other interns were found laughing silently at the back.

“What is the first step to perform a Laparoscopic appendectomy?’ Dr. Tanaka questioned him with Dr. Emery on his side observing. All of the eyes fall on him.

It was his moment to show that he is worth it today, and everyday for the rest of his life.

We will access the appendix through a few small incisions in the abdomen as a cannula which is a small, narrow tube will then be inserted. It is used to inflate the abdomen with carbon dioxide gas which allows us to see the appendix more clearly...” He paused, as he took a deep breath before resuming his explanation.

“Once the abdomen is inflated, a laparoscope will be inserted through the incision. It is a long, thin tube with a high-intensity light and a high-resolution camera at the front which will display the images on a screen, allowing us to see inside of the abdomen and guide the instruments. When the appendix is found, it will be tied off with stiches and removed. The small incisions are then cleaned, closed, and dressed.” His final words fall as somehow equivalent to a mic-drop earning both smiles from the two doctors, as they resumed with rounds for the day.

He took a minute to be proud of himself, as it is a reminder that he is here to stay.

After rounds was over, he is officially a surgeon. He was assigned under Dr. Tanaka as he was his resident along with a few other interns. It was really happening, the suprised dream he had that was meant to be an escape; has came true today.

“Dr. Lahela, I would like you to scrub in with me to perform your very first appendectomy in the O.R” Dr. Tanaka said, as his smile was wide filled with joy which was taken away by the growling voices of the other interns behind him.

He ignored them, as he started to scrub in. The looked that was dedicated to him was somewhat a deja vu moment, a moment where he was known as the son of a criminal. The hatred eyes that is coming to him, attacking him slowly as it was disguised by the confident exterior.

He shake the thoughts away, getting himself prep in the O.R for his first surgery, but some demons never left as he tried his best.

After they were dismissed, he took a turn to the cafeteria as a distraction. It wasn’t the best, maybe he hoped it would be like the movies; he would be the protagonist, the hero. Instead, it was the joker.

He decides upon a snicker bar from one of the vending machines, as the line piled up. He took a seat at the edge of the room, with his pager present on the table. A breath was taken, calming the rage and expectations in him.

The occupied thoughts were interrupter by a woman, looking at her once again with concern.

“You should try this, it’s the cafeteria signature.” The voice was soft, comforting as she passed a pudding cup his way. Chocolate to be specific.

“It’s just a pudding cup, mr.s” He chuckled upon the small cup, as Mr.s Martinez joined him on the empty seats.

“It’s more than a pudding cup, it’s the cure of sadness actually.” She gestures upon him, as realization hits him.

“I didn’t hide it hard enough didn’t I?”

She just shake his head, as he held the pudding cup in his hands.

“You must be one of the new interns aren’t you, the outfit reminds me of a young Harper Emery during her own residency.” She gestures towards his green scrubs.

“She was the legend, and you have seen her work here before??” His eyes shine upon the name.

“Son, I have been in this hospital for the last decade. I have known all the residents for some times now, there was a lot a person can go through for the last 10 years.” She stated as Bryce was filled with awe.

“So, tell me what’s with the long face; I thought it was supposed to be an exciting start.”

“I woke up today feeling on top of the world, but coming here feels like the past haunting me once again. The eyes, the look, and...it reminds me of something I always wanted to forget.” He lets out a small sigh upon the statement, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it feels go to have someone to listen.

“The past, its always going to be there to haunt us. Sometimes, history repeats itself to prove how strong you are. You have been through a lot and you survived, you are a doctor today dear. This chance is bigger than any doubt, any pain, any memory that you have been through. I have seen the doctors here grow, some had left to pursue something easier, some even crack under the pressure, but some also thrive in excellence. Those people have fought to survive, and that’s what life is about dear. Fighting to survive, I am fighting too. It felt like a long journey for the past 10 years, but some adventures are worth to take to get to the final destination.” She ends the speech with a smile, as she left him with his thoughts once again.

It feels like a fever-dream, but it is true. Maybe, he will make it after all with a pack of chocolate pudding by his side.

Suddenly, his pager starts to beep. A new chance to start again, a new hope was in-stored. He took a final bite before leaving the room, feeling okay for the first time that day.

----------

PRESENT DAY

The day passes by quickly, as the reminders and memories kept on replaying in their minds. A sign from her, a message possibly, a lingering gift from the beyond.

Casey met up with Bryce at the entrance, they have plans that evening. Both of them are already dressed in black which replaces the scrubs from the day; Luis invited them that day to pay their respects for Mrs. Martinez. The whole gang followed, as it is better to face the inevitable together- making it less scarier.

The evening was peaceful, it was beautiful even. The leaves started to fall, its a start of a new season; some would say a new chapter. They met with Luis to pay their respects to the woman who had changed all of their lives, as they changed hers even for a moment.

They paid their respects together, as Casey lets out of her silent wishes for Mrs. Martinez. It took a few moments before she was met with his comforting gaze once more, as she nods in completion. Their reunion with Luis was a pleasant one, as he thanked them once more; despite everything. It echo’s in her mind, word-by-word.

‘You give my mom her happiness, the one thing I couldn’t. I will never thank you enough for the little miracle that had happened. I was pissed when I found out, but...you manage to give her the signature Martinez’s smile once more. Thank you.’

Luis excused himself from the group, as they were pulled into a group hug. Mrs. Martinez gave each and everyone of them a purpose. Something that she couldn’t see before.

After they bid their farewell, Bryce and Casey walked hand-in-hand making their way back home as they talked about life, memories, and even happiness. It was a beautiful ending for their day, as the sunset was their backdrop, it was what life is all about.

She finally started to live life, as he continues to pursue his dream. Maybe even found himself a new dream as well.

----------

‘Life to one Teresa Martinez ; it was an unforgettable journey. She believed in the impossible, she took a risk that wasn’t mean to be taken by any other. She trusted me, and that was everything. But, the news - it was a tragedy. Death is a tragedy, as life was taken away from us. But, Teresa Martinez’s death reminds us of the dreams that we wanted to catch. The dreams that were left behind, the dreams that were abandoned in the dust. It was a dream that is worth following for, even if it ends upon your death bed. She believed in me during my dark times, and the reminder of one Teresa Martinez, is something we can’t turn back from. But, the advices and love she has left behind is a reminder that those who are gone...will always be with us, we can’t see them, but there are always there guiding us, cheering us on even after they have left us behind. Teresa Martinez lived a good life, and she will never be forgotten as she is flying high at somewhere better.’

THE END.

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom @starrystarrytrouble, @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss (comment if you want to be tagged or removed 💜💜)

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #casey valentine #open heart #anotherbeingsworldwrites #choices fic writers creations #alya writes #teresa martinez #tw: death

43 notes · View notes

longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Longitduinalwaveme Reviews Old Comics

Today, I will be looking at Detective Comics #353 from 1966, “The Weather Wizard’s Triple-Treasure Theft”. It was written by Gardner Fox and drawn by the inimitable Carmine Infantino.

-The cover of the issue is quite visually striking, with the Weather Wizard stepping out of Flash comics and into Detective Comics.

-”Rain and wind and falling hail! Sleet, lightning, and whipping gale! These are the calling cards of the Weather Wizard--Master of the Monsoon, Tyrant of the Typhoon, Emir of the Elements!” I love the way Silver Age comics introduce characters.

-The comic opens with the revelation that Gotham City has had a drought that’s lasted for four straight years. In case you needed any proof that Gotham has always been a terrible place to live....

-The drought problem is solved by the Weather Wizard breaking the drought and filling all six of the city’s reservoirs. He even writes a huge note in the sky about it! “It was I who filled your reservoirs!” In the note, he claims that he did this as thanks for getting to steal three of the city’s most priceless artifacts.

-In reality, the message was a catfish scheme Mark used to figure out what the three most valuable items in the city were...and it works. “Millionare collector” Felix Bayard becomes concerned that the Weather Wizard has stolen his solid gold drinking cup and replaced it with a fake. To see if this is what happened, he calls in “the foremost art inspector in the city--Haverford Mimms!” (Unrelated side note, but Gotham City has an enormous number of millionaires. It seems like every fifth person in the city is one.)

-Weather Wizard, who had tapped Mimms’ phone, waylays him and gets into Bayard’s mansion by posing has him. He then reveals his trickery and steals the ruby. (He also does one of the quickest clothing changes of all time. He goes from his Mimms disguise to his full Weather Wizard garb in the space of one panel.) Bayard tries to stop him, but the attempt is futile. “Only the Flash has ever been able to stop me--and you aren’t the Flash--not by a long shot!” Also, Weather Wizard makes his getaway via “a rainbow of solid hues”.

-Batman and Robin (the latter of whom broke his wrists playing basketball and cannot go out on patrol) are pondering what the Weather Wizard might have stolen when Commissioner Gordon calls Batman to report the Bayard theft. As Batman leaves, Robin expresses his dismay that he won’t be able to “whip up a storm of my own against that Sultan of Storms”.

-Batman, in the hopes of luring Weather Wizard out of hiding, decides to steal his own Rajah Ruby. It’s the largest and most perfect ruby in the world, and his father, Dr. Thomas Wayne, bought it on a trip to India. His plan works. The next day, the “theft” attracts the police, and the police activity alerts the Weather Wizard, who follows the trail left by Batman to the cave where the ruby is hidden.

-Batman trails him, but Mark isn’t impressed. “You haven’t a chance of stopping me from getting away with the Rajah Ruby! If you were the Flash, I might be more concerned!....See how easily I handle you? You just aren’t Flash-y enough to catch me!” We get it, Mark. Batman isn’t nearly as cool as your archenemy.

-Unfortunately for him, Batman is a much better hand-to-hand combatant than he is, and gives the Wizard a few solid punches. The Wizard doesn’t handle them very well, both because the Flash of this era rarely threw punches and because Mark is a skinny beanpole.

-However, the Wizard manages to regain the upper hand by using his Weather Stick (this was what the Weather Wand was called back in the 60s) to create a thick ice wall in front of Batman, which knocks the Caped Crusader unconscious. “Ha! Ha! See what I mean, Batsy Boy? You can never overcome me! Only the Flash is an expert at that, as I’ve said all along!” WE GET IT, MARK. The Flash is more challenging to fight than Batman. Also, Batsy Boy? Really?

-When Batman comes to, he finds himself in a block of ice. Wizard tells him that the ice is made of special chemicals that will melt in two hours. (This seems like it shouldn’t be something he can do, but whatever.) If Batman doesn’t try to escape, he will survive the experience. “This tussle with you is good practice for me! It keeps me keyed up for my next meeting with the Flash!” SERIOUSLY, MARDON. WE DO GET IT. YOU CAN STOP MENTIONING THE FLASH NOW. Also, Weather Wizard somehow knows that Batman can read lips.

-Weather Wizard goes to commit his third crime, but then becomes suspicious of how easily he defeated Batman. “Batman is noted for using his wits--and being a tricky guy”. As a result, he examines the ruby (with his Weather Stick) and discovers it’s been coated with chemicals that will allow it to be traced with the use of infrared light. “Neat, neat!” Somehow Mark knows how to solve this problem, though. “Yessiree--this session with Batman is really sharpening my wits for a future encounter with the Flash, all right!” I think Mark talks more about the Flash in this issue than he does in the issues where he actually fights the Flash.

-Batman manages to escape the block of ice ahead of schedule by using the heel of his boot to create friction. The chemical in the ice absorbs the friction and causes the ice to melt faster than normally, allowing him to escape just before the oxygen runs out.

-Batman follows the infrared trail, thinking he’ll find the ruby and the Weather Wizard, but finds a note from the Weather Wizard instead (written entirely in cursive, incidentally). He says that he put the chemical from the ruby onto the note and boasts that Batman won’t be able to stop his third crime because he doesn’t know where it will happen.

-Batman uses his radio to call someone (the comic doesn’t reveal who at this point, but it’s Robin), and then we cut to the Mayan wing of one of Gotham’s museums, where the Wizard is stealing a small figurine. Batman arrives at the museum, stating that “a little bird” told him where the Wizard would be, and the two fight. The Wizard shoots a blizzard at him, but Batman slides into him, knocking him off his feet. Wizard then whips up a flash flood (somehow), but Batman uses his Bat-Rope to lasso a statue. The Weather Wizard is about to knock the statue over with lightning...but before he can, it gets knocked over on him, allowing Batman to punch the Wizard out and capture him.

-The issue ends with the reveal that Batman had arranged for Robin to “follow you (the Wizard) in the car from the sea cave and stay on your trail no matter what happened to me! When I found the note you doctored, I contacted him on my two-way radio transmitter and he told me where you were!” It’s just too bad that the issue didn’t set this up particularly well. Robin’s involvement kind of feels like it came out of nowhere.

-Robin was also the one who caused the statue to fall over on Weather Wizard by kicking it over. “It was the kick in time that saved Batman!”

-This comic seems to establish that, when armed with the Weather Stick (Wand), the Weather Wizard will defeat Batman in a fight. While he really, really can’t take a punch, his ability to manipulate the weather gives him a distinct upper hand. He won their first fight and only lost the second because Robin got involved without his knowledge. It’s nice to see, as it lends credence to the idea that Flash’s villains are more powerful than Batman can handle without planning ahead and bringing backup. This only makes sense, considering the fact that they fight the Flash on a regular basis.

-Also, since the stolen goods were presumably returned, the only thing Mark succeeding in doing in this issue was ending a drought. I’m not sure he’s as good at this whole supervillain thing as he thinks he is. “IT WAS I WHO FILLED YOUR RESERVOIRS!” Actually, Mark’s dialogue in general is easily the best part of this comic. He manages to come across as simultaneously a competent villain and a total doofus.

This issue is a really fun Silver Age romp. It’s definitely worth a read.

#flash rogues #detective comics #batman #robin #weather wizard #dc comics

14 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Anjou’s Motivation

Chisei Gen thought: "Anjou is a gentleman, an educator, but he likes to play, sometimes at the expense of doing his job." “

"It's just a mask he uses to disguise himself. He's very good at covering his heart with flashy appearances, very few people know about his past, and I've been getting some clues for almost a decade." Tachibana Masamune clapped, "Yasha, go to the archives and get me the files of Hilbert Jean Anjou." ”

The plain-colored file bag was soon placed in front of Tachibana, from which he poured out a file and placed it in front of the Chisei. Chisei looked at the home page, the heart slightly surprised.

“Name: Hilbert Ron Anjou

Birthday: 10/28/1878

City of Birth: Harrogate, Yorkshire, UK

Education: Ph.D., Trinity College, Cambridge”

It's a personal file by Hilbert Jean Ange, the president of Cassel College, hundreds of pages thick, with dense text documenting details from birth to this day. As a mixed-race and also of rare longevity, Anjou has lived for almost 130 years. Many of the things he may not remember, were quietly recorded in this file. Chisei never knew that the family's archives still contained such top secrets, even within Cassel College, no one knew about Anjou's past. His old man was dead, and his past was buried in a grave.

"It's a patchwork of several archives, and the result of our own adjustment, so it may not be accurate. However, it may restore Professor Anjou's life. The content is too complicated, I'll pick the important parts to tell you.

"Unlike what many people think, Hilbert Jean Ange is actually an orphan whose last name, 'Anjou', comes from French, but he was actually born in Yorkshire, England, a small city called Harrogate. He is not only a nobleman, butas a child lived very poor, so he can be said to have suffered. His adoptive parents adopted a lot of children and trained them to beg, and Anjou was one of the most special of the children. He was a hybrid, and at the age of twelve he showed amazing talent. He learned Latin and Greek without a teacher, and was appreciated by the local bishop, who offered him an annuity to study in London so that he could get a chance to go to Cambridge University. There he met the man who really changed his life, Menek Cassel, the elder son of the Cassel family, the founder of the Secret Party LionHeart, and one of the greatest dragon-slaughterers of all time. “

"Menek was twenty-one years old at the time, and Anjou was sixteen years old, and after a lonely childhood and teenage years, Anjou met another man with dragon blood for the first time. Menek recommended him to join the Secret Party and become the first member of the Lions Heart Club. But even Menek didn't think he'd unearthed such excellent blood, and the teenager who came out of the small town of Harrogate would end up as the leader of the Secret Party and the terminator of the dragon. To Anjou, Menek was like his brother, and everyone in the Lion's Heart was his family, because with these people, he was finally able to struggle out of his loneliness. It was the happiest time of his life, he studied at Cambridge, secretly participated in the activities of the secret party, his charm was the greatest bloom. The girls wanted to be with him, the boys were proud to be friends with him. He is a good academic and wore the latest fashions. The playboy image he showed today is the foundation that accumulated at that time.”

"Today's Lion's Heart is just a student association at Cassel College, but at the time it was the Youth League of the Secret Party, the world's best dragon butcher's team. Lion Heart will give Anjou not only friendship, but also glory and dreams. Everyone thinks Lion heart will be the light of hope for the secret party, and Menek Kassel has no doubt that he will be the next secret party leader. But suddenly the great change came, in the event known as 'the Lament of Summer’, the secret party's home Kassel Estate was attacked by the Dragons at night, a Dragon King-level enemy infiltrated into the estate, and the Dragon Servitors surrounded them from the outside. Lionheart fell as war dead.”

"It sounds weird, " Chisei interrupted Tachibana’s account, "In this case, the dragons show similar patterns of behavior to humans, they use strategies, launched a similar military night raid attack, which is not in line with the dragon's behavior patterns." Dragons are proud, noble clans that wake up to growl at the world, destroy all enemies with unparalleled violence, and disdain convert operations.

Tachibana nodded: "Yes, it's very strange, but we can't get to know the truth." 'Lament of Summer' is the top secret of the Secret Party, and hundreds of years on, the Secret Party has not released its findings on anyone other than the school board. But all the evidence suggests that the dragons did launch such a night raid, that they broken in from the inside and should have completely destroyed the secret party. But there is a man who pulls the wind, the world's genius Menek Cassel actually broke out to match the power of the Dragon King. The Cassel family, the greatest dragon-butcher family in history, declined, and no one could ever inherit its glory. The LionHeart was gone, and Hilbert Jean Ange is the only survivor. ”

"Ange wasn't in Cassel's estate at the time?" Chisei asked.

"No, he was in close contact with the Dragon King, and after his injury he fell into the cellar and passed out as though dead. He recovered the next morning and witnessed the saddest images of his life, with corpses piling up, human beings and Death Servitors hugging each other at the last moments of their lives, not out of affection, but trying to tear each other apart. The only person standing was Menek Cassel, but it was a corpse with a broken knife. Before that, Anjou probably never thought that the war between man and dragons would be so decisive, so cruel, flowing with blood like a river. Only one side survives this war, and even if all you can do is move your jaw, you have to climb over and bite your opponent's throat. ”

"Anjou dug his friend's graves with his own hands and burned them to ashes. He buried the ashes, and he buried his past. When the Secret Party found him, he walked alone in the wilderness, like The Walking Dead, and after he was rescued he said only one word, 'The world turned out to be so cruel'. The doctor said he could not imagine such a seriously injured near-death patient could have such energy, with so many bodies piled up to be burned on the pyre. The doctor said that there must be some amazing mental strength to support the body of the young man. Then Anjou fell asleep and earned a year before he woke up again, and the doctor almost thought he wouldn't wake up again. ”

But he did not become depressed when he woke up, but showed amazing activity. In the 'Lament of Summer’, the secret party elite suffered heavy losses. The young Hilbert Jean Anjou suddenly rose to power at the top of the secretive party. To some extent, he was the beneficiary of 'Lament of Summer. But that didn't bring him any joy. The elegant, active, conceited Anjou disappeared, leaving only the lone, iron-fisted powerman. The old playboy is only the mask he used to disguise himself, he had only a lonely avenger in his heart, always carrying a sharp iron blade. He continued to consolidate his rights, cultivate cronies and take control of the entire Cassel Academy in order to mobilize the most elite teams when it came to dragon slaughtering. This led to the school board's dissatisfaction with him, but Ange is irreplaceable. He had been to hell and back, so he is no longer afraid of death.”

"He was lonely and poor, but his encounter with Menek Cassel changed his life. Overnight, he won honor, dreams, friends, even family, but overnight lost all this, once again closed in the abyss of loneliness. The Dragons took everything from him, and he was determined to take revenge. What the doctor called 'some amazing spiritual force' was hatred, and the dragon taught him the cruelty of the world, from which moment he transformed him into the world's most terrifying dragon-butcher.” Tachibana whispered, "The dragons should regret keeping the man alive." ”

Silence for a long time, Chisei sighed softly: "No wonder everyone said 'don't be an enemy with Anjou', that kind of man's heart hidden coal mine, anger is ignited will not be extinguished until the enemy is burned, or burn themselves to ashes." ”

"Hate has created a paranoid personality, he is a ruthless man, no relatives and no friends. He was good to the students, because he needed them to fight for him, everyone was a tool in his eyes, a tool he used to avenge the Dragons.”

---- Dragon Raja III

13 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph, hope you and your loved ones are doing well(: Do you have any long fics (+100k) that are about character development? I like casefics but I would like to read something that the focus in the story are the characters, even if there is some cases. I just read The Adventure of the Silver Scars for the first time and now I'm adrift lol. Thank you so much, you make my day most often than not, *virtual hug*.

Hi Nonny!!!

AHHHHHHH I’m so happy that you’re enjoying my fic lists, and that I make your day <3 I want to argue that I PERSONALLY find any story that long has a LOT of character development, so I’m gonna be an ass and add a part two to my last 100K w. fic list :) Hee hee hee! I don’t get a lot of opportunities hah. I haven’t read very many 100K fics since my first list last May so I apologize for the length.

Because I’m so focussed on trying to read more long fics lately, it’s taking me a lot longer to get through them, so I’m sorry I don’t have a lot for you. BUT I’m going to ALSO link you to my other longer fic list posts PLUS my case fic lists since you’re looking for those too :)

I genuinely feel like a lot of the fics I rec that are long have a lot of character development, because otherwise I don’t think I would have been able to get through them. It’s a weird quirk of mine: I need to get into the world of the characters if I’m going to invest that much time into them, so yeah :P I hope you enjoy what I have for you!

PS AGREED I loved Silver Scars! It’s actually on this list because I only recently read it, hahah :D

NOVEL LENGTH FICS: 100K+ W. Pt 2