#how much leave can one collect anyway on a 1 year part time contract?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatbangtanbloom · 3 years

Text

unspoken | bts [1]

unspoken

teaser | [1]

characters: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, reader

pairings: ot7 x fem! reader

categories: angst, fluff, smut

genre: idol!bts, idol!reader (maybe obsessive!bts??? yandere!bts???)

warnings: reader has her life TOGETHER (???appears to anyway), jungkook being sad about reader giving others (mostly tae) attention, make out on the couch, sex on the couch, all the boys kinda obsessive behavior mentioned at the end?, bts members are possessive (mostly jk!!), (uhhh may be slight yandere themes? no violence to)

a/n: this follows immediately after the teaser, so it mostly focuses on jungkook!!! other members will be introduced in the next chapters

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to holding things together. You had been trained for years to be a top idol. Five: those were the years you spent bringing your lyricism to perfection, years dedicated to personality training for variety shows and publicity conferences, years conjured up in between vocal training sessions and dance practices to make you every bit of a fourth generation idol that you could manage. As the leader of one of the the top girl groups in Korea, you had grown used to taking constructive criticism and turning it into perfect moves. You leveraged commercial film deals with ease as you opted for optimal screen time for each of your members easily. You easily quelled squabbles between the four other members in your group over bouts of jealousy and short term argument. For years, you trained as a lone gem to bring both men and women to your knees alike with the mere turn of your wrist or seductive smile. You were trained for everything.

What you were not trained for were your seven boyfriends. The seven of them did not hold a single provision in your years of training nor was there any booklet for explaining how to juggle their varying needs and degrees of affection they desired from you. None of them has been forecasted as an event in your already packed schedule between V-Lives, fan meetings, press conferences, or music shows when collecting win after win. You still managed your best.

When you were not preparing for a new album, learning a new dance routine, or writing new lyrics, your time was divided up amongst the seven of them. You often accompanied Seokjin as he played Maple Story with you settled into his lap with a giggle whenever he complained about the new skins. Or, you could be found sitting in the studio with Yoongi drinking iced americanos (a drink you detested more than the monthly evaluations you had as a trainee) working on lyrics together with your fingers entwined together. With Hoseok, you spent the bulk of your time dancing to your hearts content or pressed against one another in ways that would appear amoral if not for the spoken seductions he would whisper to you. Namjoon’s own commitment to giving you an endless list of recommendations as you laid in his arms, conversing about the black ink on white pages with full hearts. Jimin often meant being cuddled under heaps of blankets as you watched animal videos together and played with his hair when you were not reassuring him of how well he had done the day before. Taehyung meant practicing the scripts together for the dramas you would audition for and splashing each other to your hearts content as you washed the dishes of the dorm after Seokjin cooked. And lastly, being with Jungkook meant impromptu video shoots all the time; the boy wanting to remember every moment he spent with you as though it would be his last.

You may not had been the most organized, but you did know how to cherish each of your boys just as you did the other valuable people and aspirations within your life. While not meticulous, things almost always went to plan for you when you worked hard enough… but even that meant that surprises (especially the pleasant surprises) could make all the difference.

So it was given when you woke up at five in the morning the next day to find Jungkook sitting rigidly on the sofa, you had an inkling of how your day would go with this very uncommon occurence. The youngest of your boyfriends often opted for staying up only when playing video games or producing new tracks for his highly anticipated mixtape, but you saw nothing in hand but his phone.

“You’re awake.” You comment as you lean over the couch to press your lips gently against his temple. All the tension in his body seems to leave when his arms snake around your waist to send you plummeting into his lap.

Jungkook had always been rather fond of using his strength against you.

“You were with hyung again, last night.” He stares more so as a statement rather than a question. It had been one of those days when things felt a bit too overwhelming and Taehyung had sensed it before you. It was not intentional you found yourself being coddled by the raven haired man, but it seemed to be happening more and more as contract recertification was coming and the girls growing increasingly antsy about future concepts.

You can hear the displeasure in Jungkook’s voice. “Is something wrong?” You ask as you sit up in his lap to touch his cheek.

“You’re always with him.” Jungkook whispers with a frown settling on his lips. “You know he’s not your only boyfriend, right? There’s me... and the others..”

You bite the inside of your lip as you think about the delicate balance of your relationship with the seven of them. Their feelings weren’t as easy as dodging invasive questions in a press conference or could be corrected after a quick meeting with producers. Perhaps you were not as prepared as you thought. You just wanted to hold it together again.

“I know you’re my boyfriend too, Kook.” You say as you snake your arms around his shoulders. “You know that I love you all equally, right?”

Scoffing, Jungkook pouts. “You say that,”

“Jungkook.” You frown deeper as you press your forehead against his. “I mean it. I love you all the same! Each of you have your own charms that make me realize why I wanted to be with you in the first place. I love you just as much as I love Taehyung and I love Taehyung just as much as I love Seokjin. And I love Seokjin as much as I love Nam-“

“야.. 야... I gathered that much. You could have stopped with loving me.” Jungkook jokes, making the familiar flutter of your stomach return. You were happy he understood. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

“You’re not?” You muse with a raise of your brow.

“Mmm.” Jungkook replies as his hands grip both of your hips to pull you closer before pressing you flushed against his chest. “I can think of ways for you to make it up to me, baby girl.” He is no less subtle as his hands run up along your sides and settle over your breast. He opts for teasing the right one first, circling the sensitive bud between his index finger and thumb. “I can think of a very good way for you to make it up to me.”

He lifts up your white shirt and tugs down the cup of your bra to place an open-mouthed kiss onto your right breast and then your left with a long sigh. “So. so..so fucking pretty and all for me,” His words send vibrations along your skin. He reluctantly pulls back, watching your shirt fall back over your frame and rubs the small of your back gingerly. “I always want you, you know that, right?”

“If you want me, you know you already have me.” You quip prior to kissing along his jawline. He was a sucker for kisses there- he always had been. The thought of your kisses alone could have him cupping the base of his cock and edging himself for release when he thinks about your soft lips on his jaw, his neck, his lips, his cock.

Nevertheless, you scoff at his words. He always amused you when he pulled out that nickname in particular, but you couldn’t deny that it combined with the taunting look in his eyes did provoke some part of you. “I have to get back to the dorms before the girls wake up, Jungkook.”

“I’ll drive you.” He offers with a smile as devilish as Lucifer himself. Jeon Jungkook was equal parts crafty as he was intelligent.

“As enticing as it is to do that and we both know how badly I do want you,” you preface as you toy with the golden chain that dangles around Jungkook’s neck. He had known you were far too fond of it. “That will draw attention.. they’ll recognize your car.” You frown in attempts to reasoning with him. He doesn’t back down though; he never does when it comes to you.

“We can figure things out,” He whispers as he begins to kiss along you neck slowly. The sensation of his lips are gentle in comparison to the way his hips rut against your own. “Just wanna be inside you.. it’s been so long.”

The youngest of your boyfriends always had a bit of an appetite. During award shows, he often was the first to come find you in some miraculous show of stealth. Even during concerts when BigHit would hold its annual New Years Eve Live, he would linger backstage to catch a glimpse of you. You have dated him long enough to know the subtlety was not his forte. Now was no different.

You tug lightly at the ends of his hair to make him look at you. It is instinctual; the moan falling from his lips as his grip on your hip tightens. It does not stop either as he expertly rolls his hips against your spread ones.

“Wanna feel your tight pussy around my thick cock,” He rasps into your ear as his right hand slights down your hip to your ass and cups it. His hands are a stark contrast to how his lips kiss your skin like a brush on the canvas. He wants all of you. He wants to feel a part of you in the deepest way. “Please? I need you so badly, baby.” He whispers as his member presses more in between your thighs, just over your clothed sex.

You let out a curse from his wandering hands. “You really know how to provoke me, huh?” You shake your head in amusement as you pin Jungkook down onto the couch. He follows easily - he’s always been a good boy whenever you’re around you.

“You shouldn’t hold back. You know I like it rough, YN-ah.” He presses his tongue against the side of his cheek. It’s always been a tell of his when he can barely hold it together - can barely hold back from wanting to feel all of you. “No teasing either.” He’s always been eager to test you, eager to see how much you would let him get away with.

You straddle his hips with practiced ease while untying his gray sweatpants, “You’ve always talked too much.” You halfheartedly remark as you tug down the taut fabric down his tanned thick thighs.

“You love it when I talk,” He quips back. He’s smug as his hand reaches out to stroke your cheek gingerly. He watches you with nothing but admiration and lust in his eyes. He’s always enjoyed how you take control, but that does not mean that he is not one to challenge you. What was the fun in fully submitting when you could make him? “But you like it so much more when my head is between your pretty thighs, don’t you? You like the way my tongue thrusts into your tight pussy until you’re on the brink of cumming?”

You give a noncommittal hum as every so often, his thumb presses down over the denim of your jeans to your clit to intensify the flex of his thigh. He’s always loved this view of you hovering over him, moaning from the slightest action he gives you and wanting more until it drives you over the edge. He knows you could quite possibly cum just from this alone, but Jeon Jungkook has always been a generous man.

With this in mind, he takes advantage of your hips lingering over his right thigh after shifting to toss his sweatpants to the side to press his flexed thigh against you and sends you flush against his chest with a smirk. He likes seeing the contorted look of frustration on your look from the sudden change of pace and he only raises a brow. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you think I would give in easily?”

“Oh, Jungkook,” You give a breathy sigh as your eyes meet his own full blown ones. He’s always had gorgeous chocolate brown eyes; the usual galaxy colored in them eclipsed by something far darker. Before you can reprimand him, he presses down harder onto your hips until you straddle his thigh and flexes his thigh once more. The sensation makes you sensitive, especially when he manages to brush your clit with the slightest action.

What a brat, he was.

You don’t hold back the moan that escapes from the back of your throat. He is more keen to feel all of you when your hands fall to his chest to try to regain your posture, but Jungkook finds it more endearing the way you still grind against his flexed thigh like a fucked out kitten.

He knows that he could cum simply from hearing your moans alone, but you’ve taught him well at holding out. He watches the way your hips press harder against his own thigh, wanting to feel all of him despite the two layers of clothing that separate him from you.

He takes initiative to unbutton the top of your jeans before rolling them down your thighs. He is speedy as his arm grips your waist to press you against his chest and they soon join the puddle of his own jeans on the floor. He has always been insatiable when it comes to you, often eager to drop to his knees and eat you out until the sunrise, and a burning sensation in your stomach tells you that this time won’t be any different.

“What was that about needing to get back to your dorms?” He asks with smirk on his face as he turns your chin to look at him. His words are accusatory, acting as though you were not riding his thigh to fruition. “I can think of a better way to do this, though.”

“So can I,” You reply after finally getting over the initial high of him teasing you.

“Mmm,” Jungkook whispers without another word. Normally shy around others, he never could quite control himself around you. He had no intention on doing so either, especially not when you were half clothed in front of him and he had gotten the taste of you he had wanted, but still, Jeon Jungkook remained insatiable. “I have a request.”

“A request?” You repeat back to him with a tilt of your head. You can tell that he is the temptation incarnate as his hands begin to cup your sex and slowly his middle and index finger begin to tease your wet folds through your panties.

Nodding, he indents his sense with a tug at your panties to send them down your thighs. “Mmm. A request-“ He says before once more rolling on top of you and pinning you down into the couch. He never did get tired of manhandling you-the way your body fell limp under his just with the swiftness of his moves was more than enough to have his cock grow harder to be inside of you, but he would wait. He would be good until you told him not to be.

“And that is…” You find it hard to keep up the conversation, especially when Jungkook drops to his elbows to carefully cup both of your hips and draw you nearer to him. Your pussy grows wetter just from the way his index finger continues to brush over your clit before swiping down your slit to get a bit of your essence and he licks his fingers.

He does not answer you, only opting to connect his lips against your aching cunt without warning. Soft like petals, his lips kiss your clit ever so slightly prior to him moving closer to you like a man starved to begin to send stripes of love against your cunt with his tongue. The first of them has you bucking your hips to entrance his face between your thighs, but the rest nearly have you twitching for more. Perhaps you were a bit more worked up then you anticipated.

Your hands immediately find chase in his hair, wanting to remember each thrust into your tight pussy from Jungkook’s thick tongue. He is careful to savor each drop of your essence that begins to paint his jaw with love. He honestly thinks he can grow drunk from the amazing taste that dribbles from you.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He rasps against your cunt, only adding to the vibrations of your tight pussy. “I just wanna stay between your thighs forever.” His licks are ultimately calculated, but every now and then he grows lost in your essence as his nose begins to bump against your clit every so often. The added sensation has you nearly stuttering out his name. “Fuck, I really want to be inside this tight pussy. You like the way I eat your pussy, don’t you?”

You are keenly aware of Jungkook’s love of praise and you ultimately have no problem giving it to him as you choke out on your moans, “That feels so good, Kook-fuck- baby boy, knows how to eat pussy well, doesn’t he?“

“Fuck, I almost just from hearing that,” He rasps out, making you realize how he grinds against the cushion of the couch at the same cadence of you bucking your hips. He’s so fucked out at this point, barely able to hold it together when he can feel how tightly your walls clench around his wet tongue. It turns him on to no end and he can only think of how tightly you would fit around him. “You know,” He pulls back slowly, but his fingers still return to scissor inside your wet cunt as he leans forward on his knees to hover over you. “You know you could have all of us to yourselves, right? For a whole week… no distractions,” He curls his fingers inside of you, making you moan louder in pleasure from how good it feels. “It’s been a long time since you’ve felt Yoongi-hyung’s tongue inside of your pretty pussy, huh?”

The thought of Yoongi alone make you tighten your hips a bit more and you nod. Yet, you still question, where is he going with this?

“I’ve been thinking.. well,” He stops rubbing your clit for a moment to make sure you have his full attention before adding another finger. Before he can continue, he finds himself growing more lustful for the essence that pools at your hips and returns his mouth onto your wet cunt with a sigh of relief. He’s in euphoria with each moan that escapes your mouth. “You taste so fucking sweet “-and we want to go on a trip. The eight of us. You’ve got break and so do we coming up. I’m sure we could fit things together, right?”

Fitting things together - all you can think about is how perfect Jungkook would fit inside of you if he weren’t eating you out right now, but you are not one to complain. You are more than happy to spend time with the boys, “Of course… I would love tha-“ You suck in a deep breath to mask the moan when Jungkook finds your g-spot without much need to look. He memorized you like the back of his hand.

“Mmm, I can tell you’re close.” He smirks as he slaps your ass. The added pain as you wiggling your hips for more friction against his tongue, but he likes seeing you like this. Completely at his mercy and every whim to treat you as he pleases. You who seemingly always held things together, crumbling right in front of him as a slobbering mess as he eats you out. It was so hot.

“Shit-“ You rasp out as you feel the familiar twinge in your stomach. Your walls only tighten more around Jungkook’s fingers as he speeds up the pace to watch the way your face contours into pleasure. Your back arches when he curls his fingers inside of you for a third time and unknowingly to you, Jungkook finds his own release chasing after yours when his cock throbs more in pleasure. “I’m so close Jungkook-“

“Me too, baby, fuck,.” He whispers as he increases the thrust of his fingers inside of you to match the thrust of his own hips to bring you both to your eyes. His thighs flex as the familiar tension in his stomach bubbles up and he wants to cum all over you. God, he wants to lick every drop of your cum from your body as it mixes with his own.

Without another word, your high comes crashing down as your eyes shut closed and your hips buckle one last time around Jungkook’s fingers. You call out out his name before realizing it and tightly encapsulate his fingers between your thighs as you lazily ride out your high.

Jungkook does not fair any better as he uses his free hand to cup the base of his cock and pump the aching desire that begins to consume him. Seeing you cum is more than enough to have his stomach tense one last time before white ribbons paint your stomach, making him grunt in pleasure from how sexy you are and the intensity of the orgasm that he had just experienced.

He collapses on top of you, sighing into the crook of your neck as he nuzzles his face affectionately into your own. Despite the ache in your core somewhat subsiding, Jungkook still grinds his softening cock against your thigh for the last of his high, “Fuck.. that was so good.”

“You did well,” you reassure him as you pant up and down. You turn your face to press a kiss against his lips and smile. “I’m also excited for this trip you guys are planning.”

Jungkook blinks as he thinks about the trip and nods shyly. He leans more into your touch, wanting to feel all of you as he snakes his arms around his waist to hold you close. “I am too… I just really want to be with you, but the others also want it too…”

“I want to be with them too. I love you and them, you know?” You whisper quietly into his ear while gingerly stroking his cheek.

“I love you too,” Jungkook whispers against your skin while leaving butterfly kisses along your shoulder. “But.. can I ask you something else?”

You nod, “Mmm?”

“Please don’t spend so much time with Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers as he finds himself growing more demure. HE doesn’t want to see your reaction; the way your features furrow into confusion at the request in fear of you rejecting him. “I’m not saying to avoid him.. but .. but please try to be with me a lot, too.. I. I worry you’ll stop loving me… or won’t think of me.. and forget me.” He felt incredibly vulnerable in front of you, especially now when he has done his best to give it all to you, but it still makes him nervous.

“Jungkook,” Your features soften at his words and you gingerly stroke his cheek. “I think of you so much. You know that right? I love you a lot and will do better since it worries you. You mean just as much to me as everyone else does.” You smile warmly, “So don’t worry about it… okay?”

Your words provide him some solace, so Jungkook shyly agrees, “Okay..” He whispers, but his grip on your hand doesn’t let go. Nevermind that he was your boyfriend, along with his six haunts who you loved equally just as you loved him. He could sense the growing tension between the seven of them as they all tried to vy for your attention.

He knew of Jimin’s own interest of whisking you away from everyone with his pretty eye smile and wanting to teach you contemporary dances so you could see the way that Jimin would lead you away. Hell, even Jimin had suggested that he would be eager to take you away from everyone if he had the chance. Namjoon was no better, only thinking of the sparkle I your eyes as he suggested a new book to you, a new concept that ultimately left you in awe of him to where you would ideally follow him and never move away.

Seokjin had made it clear of his own intents to have you and you alone when he suggested taking you back home to meet his family and see the traditional way of doing things in Korea; the smile his parents would give from finding someone so prim and proper like you. Though appearing aloof, Yoongi had his own stake in luring you into his own embrace through words of eloquence, rhymes to make your heart dizzy, and a tongue to course you into things unimaginable. Hoseok’s own methodology of spoiling you to no end with attention and suggested dancing was the first part of many to guide you into his charms; the others focusing on learning every bit of you until the end for him to ruin.

Taehyung had been the most bold of it - eagerly molding himself to be whatever you wanted under the guise of practicing monologues and scenes from his favorite movies. Too keenly aware, Jungkook could recognize how very much their own behaviors were no different from his own as he laid in wake to catch you alone and make you his at every opportunity he could with a voice like a siren and bright galaxy eyes that made you want to give him anything he asked for. He had to be keenly aware of this when it would be so easy to let go with six others wanting your attention alone.

To make you let go. And he would be damned if would let you go, either. If he couldn’t have you, no one else would be able to either.

- - - -

Don't be a silent reader! how do you think the relationship is going to go now that you know a bit more about the relationship dynamic?

391 notes · View notes

writer-panda · 3 years

Text

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 3/Leaps in logic (and over the edge of the rooftop)

Chapter 1 -|- Previous -|- Next

---------

Adrien’s day wasn’t good at first. Okay, it was straight-up terrible. For most, their wedding is supposed to be a happy day. Or at least a reason for celebrations. Adrien? He couldn’t even hope for a cake since it would ruin his model body.

For the last several months, his father was working him into an early grave. The extra photo sessions, harder classes, new exercise regime… and Lila. The last one was terrifying.

Adrien tried to hold onto hope that his father would in the end cancel the whole affair. That he would drop the ridiculous notion of wedding or at least push it back. The young model wasn’t sure exactly why was his father so insistent on pushing for the wedding. He repeatedly asked himself if Lila was blackmailing his father, but it was hard to think of anything that his father possibly could be blackmailed with. Adrien spent countless hours wondering if his father had some dark secret, but it didn’t fit the man.

Did the designer have an affair with Nathalie? No… he already got angry about the suggestion once. And even if so, it wasn’t something that he would be so ashamed about.

Was his father doing some illegal business dealings? It was somewhat possible, but what? It would need to be something big. Something extremely big.

Thinking rationally, he had no idea what could it be…

What could be so big that it was worth more than the happiness of his only son?

--------

When one looks at all that, being kidnapped right at the altar was almost… nice. Sure, Adrien had been dragged by a sentient pile of mud into the sewers and then carried to some unknown location. Sure, his beautiful suit was ruined and all the hard work Marinette put into her work was irreversibly wasted.

But, he was not married to Lila.

The pile of mud dragged him deep into the sewers until they found a ladder leading up. It appeared to be grievously damaged, with several steps in the row removed. Adrien didn’t protest much when he was lifted up and into the place above.

The place turned out to be a quite comfy flat. It was overall smaller than Adrien’s room back in Paris, but it felt more welcoming. It only had one big room, divided in half with a plywood panel. In the first ‘room’, there was a couch, a small table with three chairs, a tv on a cabinet, and two armchairs. It all appeared to be old and worn out. The second part held two beds (one without any mattress), a desk with an old computer, and a kitchen annex. It was… nice. Adrien almost liked it better than the big, sterile manor.

The pile of mud seated him on one of the chairs before condensing into humanoid form. Slowly, his body turned human and in the end, he looked almost exactly like the wedding officiator. The man pulled his phone and sent some text before turning to Adrien.

“Do you want something to eat?” He asked, walking over to the kitchen annex.

“Um… anything would do.” Adrien hesitantly spoke up. He was only slightly scared. Honestly, first, he is saved from the wedding and now he is given free food? Yes, purr-lease!

“Vegan or non-vegan?”

“I would kill for a fat, juicy steak…” Adrien remembered his last photo session, which was advertising the summer collection. One of the photos had him standing over the BBQ grill. The smell of the food being prepared almost made him salivate back then.

“Ah… The actor’s diet?” His kidnapper/savior asked, giving him a knowing look at the same time.

“Yeah… I’m a model, but I heard it’s the same” Adrien corrected.

“I’ll get you something. We need to wait anyway.”

Adrien chose not to speak to the man while he was cooking. It was still a bit awkward. He was being kidnapped.

It didn’t matter. The meal was too good to complain. Who cares about kidnapping when one is given some meat. It was a light meal, probably not to upset his stomach, but it was still more than he hoped for that day.

Of course, it couldn’t be that pretty.

The moment Adrien finished with the first piece of meat and was reaching for another, the doors were violently kicked and a man entered. He was dressed in a red bodysuit with silverly metallic elements. His helmet had one eye replaced with a red… monocle?

The explosion was quickly followed by a single gunshot. The moment it sounded, Clayface (because that was the name of the ‘pile of mud’) became frozen in place. Literally. He was covered head to toes in ice.

“My steak!” Adrien cried as he was being dragged away by the newcomer.

They were already away when Clayface managed to break through the ice. He wanted to pursue them, but his phone rang suddenly, giving him a pause.

“Who is this?!” He snarled, irritated at the interruption.

“I was led to believe you have what I wanted.” The voice on the other side growled and Clayface paused. It sent shivers down his figurative spine. His employer sounded dangerous.

“Ah… Yes… There’s been a… complication.” He stuttered, hoping it wasn’t too apparent. Whoever was on the other side made a terrifying first impression.

“What do you mean ‘complication’?” They hissed. Clayface stumbled and almost dropped the phone. He knew the employer was someone powerful, but it was a whole new level of scary. Sure, he was technically a mercenary, but until today his biggest job was some light security gig. This was supposed to be his way of reinventing himself into part of the major league. But this was being much more overwhelming.

He quickly got to the point where his employer should’ve been somewhat satisfied and hanged up quickly. He had to get the boy before he became the target himself.

----------

Elsewhere, Adrien was starring into a pair of curious sea-green eyes.

When his new kidnapper brought him to the apartment and tied him to the chair, Adrien was still bemoaning the loss of his steak. He disliked the lack of freedom, but he was still feeling safer than with Lila and his father. Objectively looking at it, he knew it was wrong, but he preferred to be kidnapped.

To his surprise, the kidnapped tossed him and the chair into some spare room of the flat they were in when the doorbell rang. There were also some curse words, but Adrien chose to disregard them.

It took a very energetic girl (about two years younger than him) all five minutes to figure out he was in that room. Not that the man made it particularly hard, leaving the doors half-open and all that.

She leveled her head so that they were on an equal level and stared into his face with an inquisitive glare.

“Daddy! You promised not to work on our day together!” She turned to the man and complained. “You clearly kidnapped him!”

“I’m really sorry, cupcake. I didn’t plan it. The time zone changes can really mess up with the calendar.”

“If it helps, this is better than the alternative.” Adrien smiled shyly.

“How is being tied to the chair good?”

“It’s better than being forced to get married.” The boy deadpanned.

“Fine.” She then turned to her father “But you will untie him. He can join us in our board game evening.” She declared imperatively.

“You won’t try anything, right?” The man glared at Adrien, who shrugged (as much as the binds allowed him).

“I quite like it here. I could do with some water, but it’s really better than how the day was supposed to go.”

The man sighed and walked over to the boy. The rope fell to the floor and Adrien could move freely. Yet, he didn’t immediately move. He did try to get up, but the world swirled and blackness consumed his consciousness.

----------

When he woke up, he was once again faced with a set of sea-green eyes. The girl apparently liked to stare at faces in close quarters. Not that Adrien complained much as long as she didn’t actually touch him. He was used to the attention.

“You must’ve been really tired. Daddy said he almost wanted to get you to a hospital.” That woke Adrien very quickly.

“No hospital!” He launched himself to sit straight up and almost crashed with the girl. Luckily, she moved out of the way. Otherwise, her father might’ve actually sent him to the hospital. Probably in pieces too.

“Don’t worry.” Speaking of the devil, the man entered the room with a platter full of fast food and a glass of water. There was a hamburger there!

“Zoe. Please leave us alone for a moment. I need to discuss some things with Mr. Agreste.”

“Sure. But remember you promised not to hurt him. And we promised him board games.” She reminded her father before happily skipping out of the room.

Once she was out, the man handed him the platter and Adrien practically leaped to devour the food.

“So…” His kidnapper/temporary caretaker started awkwardly. “If it’s any help, I’m sorry for kidnapping you.”

“Dot wowwy” Adrien dismissed him with a mouth full of burger. His father would lock him up for months if he saw him, but the boy was way past caring about it. He gulped before continuing though, as it was a shame to waste anything of the tasty goodies. “Seriously, you guys are making me a favor.”

“Huh?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! If not for this,” he gestured vaguely around the room, albeit it was clear he meant kidnapping, “I would’ve probably been married already.”

“Ah… And I guess the wedding wasn’t your idea.” It wasn’t a question. Deadshot (because he was the kidnapper if it wasn’t yet obvious) had some experience with runaway brides. Grooms escaping arranged marriage were rarer, but not unheard of. He used to take those tasks without remorse. At least until one time, when he tracked the bride, instead of an adult woman like usual, he found a pre-teenage girl. She couldn’t have been older than his own daughter at the time.

Let’s just say that he failed to deliver that contract. Or any similar in the future.

“Sir?” Adrien asked once he finished the meal.

“Yeah?”

“Could I get some more?”

“In a moment. Let what you ate settle down first.” He scolded him lightly, his parental instincts kicking in. “So, do you have any idea who might’ve wanted you kidnapped?”

“Not really… Only Marinette and Gerard cared about my opinion on this matter. And neither is the kind that would arrange a kidnapping.” He did his best not to think about his past as Chat Noir. No one but Ladybug knew, but his Lady wasn’t someone that would get involved with criminals. And even then, he doubted she could afford mercenaries. He always thought they were expensive. Could someone else figure out he used to be Chat Noir?

“Hm…” Lawton focused for a moment. “And what about The Seamstress? She is a completely new player that came out of nowhere. I suspected she might’ve had a personal connection to you. What about your father? Could someone want to get back at him? Especially someone with that name?”

“You do know what my dad does for the living?” Adrien deadpanned.

“Yes, but did he anger someone? Enough that they would want to ruin him?” The man pressed.

“It would be easier to list people he didn’t anger. My father is not… not the easiest to be around.” The light that was in the boy’s eyes just moments ago dimmed slightly. “Why are you asking all this?” He suddenly perked up and met the gaze of the mercenary.

“Honestly, I really dislike the jobs involving kids. I thought that you were just another bratty teenage star that got his way with the wedding. A kid wanting to be treated like an adult. Now… now I can’t with clear conscience return you or deliver you.”

Adrien held back any witty remarks about hired gun having a conscience. “So… I’m living with you?”

“Sadly, no. I’m not around often enough and there is still a price on your head.” Lawton pulled out his phone and carefully read through something. “The more I think of it, the more it looks like you are not the most important part.”

That got Adrien’s attention. His own brain started to work overtime to get the meaning. “What?”

“The wording of the contract. ‘Grab from the wedding’, ‘possibility of further assignments’, ‘very public’… and the price is unreasonably high for such a simple task. It appears as if whoever The Seamstress is wanted a show. Like she wanted to recruit whoever brought you in. It appears as if she was setting up some sort of competition over who brings you to her.”

“But why me?” Adrien ran through ideas, but only him being Chat Noir would make sense in the long run.

“Publicity. Your old man made sure the wedding was the event of the decade.” The merc simply shrugged. “If they wanted to announce their entrance to the big league, they would pick the biggest, most prominent target.”

“Figured father is to blame…” Adrien grumbled before reaching into his pocket. “I… would like to call a friend of mine. To reassure her I’m safe.”

“She won’t run to the police?” Lawton was hesitant to allow it but also didn’t have the heart to tell him no. The kid was emotional wreck. And if his appetite was anything to go by, it was possible physical abuse was also there.

“Marinette wouldn’t do anything dangerous. She… I think she was trying to stop the wedding. Or delay it.”

“The girl that stood up shortly before the panic?”

“Yeah… She used… She’s a friend of mine. Probably the last true friend I have left.”

“I see… Okay, call her. But make sure not to mention anything about me. Just in case.”

There was a moment of tense silence while Adrien waited for his friend to pick up. Finally, after the fifth signal, there was a rustle on the other side.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng speaking. Who do I have the pleasure with?” She spoke almost mechanically. To someone who never met her before, it might’ve sounded sincere. To Adrien, it sounded like she was exhausted both physically and emotionally. He almost blamed himself, but at the last second shifted it all onto Lila and his Father.

“Marinette!? Are you okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure there was nothing truly wrong.

“Adrien!? Adrien!” She immediately seemed to cheer up. “Where are you!? Are you okay? What happened? Did they hurt you? Are you safe?” She finally paused to take a breath.

“I’m okay, Marinette. I might’ve sorta gotten myself kidnapped,” he realized how bad that sounded as the words left his mouth, “but it’s all okay! It’s better than it was!” He rushed to reassure her, albeit his method was not a hundred percent successful.

“Are you safe?” Was the question she repeated. It sounded almost… guilty. To Adrien’s tired brain though, such subtle details were second to the question.

“I’m probably good. Someone put a bounty on me, but it’s all about me being alive. It’s like whoever did it accidentally saved me from the wedding.” He chuckled a bit darkly, thinking about how much of a temper tantrum Lila must’ve been throwing since his disappearance.

“Call me back later, okay?” There was a sudden urgency that Adrien did pick on. “I have something that needs to be sorted out.”

“What’s happening?”

“Just my Maman is coming. She is knocking right now.” With that, she hanged up. Adrien relaxed. There was no danger. And even if there was, it probably just ran away to hide as Sabine Cheng came to town.

“Kid, you done?” Deadshot walked back into the room with another hamburger.

“Yeah. I feel much better now. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“Don’t sweat it. Listen… I can’t just keep you, but I called some friends of mine. They’re willing to help you. Well, she is. Her girlfriend is just going with it for her sake.”

Lawton carefully studied Adrien to see his reaction to mentioning the couple, but there was no visible reaction. He just watched the hamburger with a hungry gaze.

-------

Elsewhere, an exhausted kwami flew out of the jewel. Hawkmoth was one step from tossing the jewel at the wall.

“I don’t understand! He should be terrified by now! He was kidnapped! They wouldn’t kill him after going so long to kidnap him!”

“Maybe your powers aren’t as good as you’ve thought?” another voice spoke from the shadows. Lex Luthor walked into the center to join Gabriel Agreste.

“They didn’t have time to move him out of the city before I started the search. Not without magic and he said there was no magical travel to or from Gotham so far.” Gabriel paced around the room.

“While you were playing with your precious jewels, I actually used some of my contacts. It appears that someone ordered a hit on your son. They wanted him kidnapped from the wedding.”

“What?!” Gabriel paused and glared at the other man.

“While I can’t stop it or even try to outbid them, I do know of one person I can convince to take this task. And she just happened to be coming to Gotham this very moment.”

“Fine. I want my son back, or our deal is off, Luthor.”

“Don’t worry. He will see the Light soon.”

#maribat #fanfic #fanfiction #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #villain marinette #batman #DC comics #dcu #MLB #mlb x dc

94 notes · View notes

marigold-doms · 4 years

Text

Mystic Destiny || Choi San ||

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Pairing: merman!san x human!reader

Word Count: 3.3k (slow burn)

Warning! this contains: Mystical creatures, racism (please know that racism is NOT okay nor will it EVER be), 18+ scenes, mature language, smoking, and death. Slight gore(only mentions of blood) Mentions topics about hate, immigration, and racial struggle in the beginning. Just be aware of that. Skip the beginning, if it makes you that uncomfortable. I also apologize for any inaccurate information on the mystical world of fantasy. I did do research but not to the extent of being an expert so I appreciate it if you can enjoy the story as it’s written.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Pearl || Ep. 1 ||

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Rewind……

50 years ago (1970) : Choi San, 17 years old.

Choi San hated living here. Land of the free? Home of the brave? All of that was complete fool’s talk. Who the hell said that the people who live here are brave? Bold was a better word. Bold enough to make every part of his days living here a walk in hell.

All seventeen years of his life up until his junior year in high school were golden. He did martial arts. Spoke English well. Danced well and even sang in his free time.

Shit hit the fan when his parents decided to send him off abroad to this stupid country he felt like never welcomed him in the first place. It wasn’t the American dream that they thought would magically happen for him. Sure, his family was loaded. It helped him out since he did live by himself. Maybe in a sense, his parents were tired of seeing San care less and less about the reality of the world that sending him away was a better solution than actually pushing him to dream bigger. San never wanted to be shoved to a foreign country without his family.

He hated most people here anyways. He hated that they made fun of his hobbies, sense of style, and most of all— his race.

He never understood the appeal of putting down others for the temporary pleasure of feeding one's self esteem. It wasn’t his fault that his parents no longer wanted to see him live youthfully. San couldn’t argue back with much force to the bullying and racial abuse because he got used to allowing himself to become so numb to everyone around him. In his eyes, it was better to feel nothing than the pain that was presented to him everyday. If anything, he felt like he was the most insensitive and undeserving out of anyone. So it was only natural for him not to feel any reverend justice for standing up to anyone for himself. Maybe he deserved it.

That being said, his group of friends weren’t exactly the best people either. San entered into this school during his junior year and he socially scrambled to find a place to fit in. Which so happened to be a group of three friends consisting of odd and misplaced guys named Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mingi.

They were basically the entire population of the Asian demographic in their high school. San wasn’t sure if that made things worse for him or better. He just couldn’t wait to graduate in the upcoming fall.

The leaves fell in the next semester and he could sense that there was no way out of this hell hole unless he graduated. His friends started getting girlfriends and the only person that would talk to him after school hours was Wooyoung.

“Dude, maybe you just need to get a girlfriend.” Puffs of smoke left Wooyoung’s parted lips. “Or someone to fuck.”

“And what will I do with that?” San cringed his nose from the smell of nicotine and ash.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung held the cigarette out to San, waiting for him to take it. When he doesn’t, Wooyoung shrugged, deciding to take another long pull. “There’s a lot of girls that ask about you though. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind letting you hit.”

“Not interested.”

“You gay or something?” Wooyoung asked out of curiosity. “I’m sure there’s also takers for that.”

San huffed out a laugh. “I don’t swing like that.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung flashed him a lazy smile. “You ain’t that bad. Guys would line up to give you a little blow.”

“I’m not gay, Woo.” San can’t help but feel some type of way.

Wooyoung laughed to tease him. “Whatever you say, handsome.”

It wasn’t that he was gay. Or that he wasn’t interested in talking to girls. He just knew better than to let some poor girl get involved with any form of contact with him. San was destructive but in all matters of himself. There was no way he’d let someone’s emotions get messed up from the way he internally abuses himself.

He gazed at the cigarette in between Wooyoung’s fingertips. “You think those would kill someone if they smoked non-stop?”

“I guess it would. Why would you ask that?”

“Just curious,” San extends his hand. “Pass it.”

Wooyoung hesitated. San did reject the offer earlier. Why the sudden choice to do it now?

Once the end of the cigarette meets San’s lips, his inexperience is evident as soon as the first swirl of smoke infiltrates his lungs. Causing his throat to constrict and eyes to water from coughing. The sensation burned throughout his upper body.

The pain felt good.

Wooyoung nervously laughed from the growing smirk on San’s face. Attempting to snatch the small bud from his hand. San pulls it out of his reach and inhales another puff despite the burn coursing through his lungs.

He wanted more.

****************************

Present: (Y/F/N), 2020.

“I’m headed out, Mace.”

Your roommate, Macy, lifts her head from her laptop. “Wait,”

You pause to look at her. Avoiding eye contact. “Hm?”

‘Where are you headed?” Macy knows that it’s way too late for you to be going out. Plus, it was only on a rare occasion that you’d leave during the night.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back by morning.” You collect your skates into a duffle bag and grab your keys.

Macy has only a few seconds to either stop you or tell you to wait for her to come with you but the amount of work in her inbox beckons her to stay home and talk to you about it later. “Text me then.”

Without another word of explanation, you wave your hand to her and shut the door behind you. After zipping up your jacket, you leave the silent apartment complex and lock yourself in your car.

On the drive over to the lake, you realize how lonely you’ve been. Ever since the last conversation with the doctor, you determined that this was the last wreckless thing you’d do. There was no fixing what life had given you. If there was an opportunity to let you reverse time, you’d spend it thanking everyone for being there for you. Even when no one knew of your latest doctor’s appointment.

“If we’re talking about time, Miss (y/l/n). I give it about 3 months until the cancer metastasizes to your brain.”

No take backs or “what if’s”. You didn’t want to hate or blame anyone for this. It was purely fate.

This was absolutely terrifying. You were absolutely insane.

Your skate meets the solid ice and for a moment your heart races.

Will it hold?

Too late now. One foot glides in front of the other and you gently skate your way towards the middle of the lake. The crisp air sucks away your breath as you begin to feel the contraction of your muscles starting to heat from the amount of effort it took to keep up with yourself. It wasn’t long before the pain started to burn through your nerve endings. You decide that it’s better not to think about how tired your body is. Instead, you allow your thoughts to roam.

At first, it wandered to your memories from skating at the ice rink with your friends. Then to the songs that you remembered playing while hanging out with them. To your favorite favorite music. And where the memories started to get sour; your favorite song. You loved to dance to it. The way your body would just follow and take control of you. A lost cause now that it seems this is the last your body will remember of being active.

You are doing the very thing that your physician told you not to do.

The pain is stronger now. Once this thought enters your mind you’re hit with the truth. You couldn’t ignore the sensation. Your body was giving up on you. It was cold. Your muscles are overworked and your mind is abusing all will to have hope.

It happens in a second.

The ice gives from under your feet and breaks from the surface. Sinking to the bottom.

A loud crack and scream combine as your body reacts to the sudden force of gravity. The sound rattling the creature beneath.

In the middle of the lake. Lower half is completely wet and frozen from the water beneath the surface of the ice. Sharp stabs from the freezing water pricked your skin and you were slipping. With no human within ear shot to hear you, the sounds of your screams echoed back at you with pathetic reverb.

A desperate reality hits you and you realize that you couldn’t swim. No one would be here to save you from your death.

As your legs burned from the weight of your skates, your body sunk. The metal on the bottoms of your feet slammed against your shins—if it wasn’t terrible enough, your arm was getting torn up by the sharp edges of the broken ice. All the odds are against you and your survival. You faced the fact and no longer struggled against fate.

Dark.

It’s so dark.

The water was burning. Through your airways and through your throat. In a sense… It was warmth.

This feels nice.

As soon as you become limp, the creature swims closer. Curiosity fills him as he wonders why a human would swim while the surface was hard. Usually, during the summer, he’d observe that humans enjoyed activities during the day. Not when the moon was so high in the sky. Not when the temperatures were this low—humans are weak.

The merman hurries to the unmoving body.

Humans can’t live in water.

He didn’t understand where he’d come to know of this but he followed his gut instinct.

At first, he carefully examined her. The way her soft skin looked so thin and fragile to the hairs wisping around her as she sunk deeper into the water. She had weird attachments to her bottom limbs that molded into unnatural shapes.

She’s so quiet. He thought to himself.

The merman did not want to wake her. She looked like she was asleep.

He realizes that he hasn’t slept for a while. Maybe humans need to sleep often. He wasn’t sure if she would wake up, but the thought occurs in a delay when he finally touches her.

Her limp body moves from the slight force he used to touch her. Only then did the merman notice the blood seeping from her skin into the water around her.

Why was she so cold? She wasn’t moving and her body was leaking with red fluid… So fragile.

He doesn’t want to think too much but there was something off about this human. She seemed lost. Much too comfortable with being underwater.

Didn’t humans need to breathe regular air?

Oh no… The merman began to panic. What if she’s dead?

Quickly, he wraps his steady arms around her unmoving body and swims towards the hard surface.

How did she get through the ice?

He examines her face again and for some reason he touches her icy cheek. Her skin mashes against his smooth palm and for the first time in a long while, he smiles.

He wanted to help you. The lonely creature couldn’t remember the last time that he actually interacted with a human. Something carnal was also driving him. Since he was semi-immortal, age was slow to impact him. He concluded that this drive wasn’t a strange appetite for hunger.

Time. Humans felt that.

How long was the merman dallying before the human lost all hope in being helped? He couldn’t gauge the time.

Oh no. Time.

Death. He is reminded that humans do die.

That’s what the merman was dealing with and the very thought strikes him. He just killed someone. He couldn’t help this human. She was dead. The first few moments with a living person and he lets them die.

Nothing’s really brought him to this point but he ends up feeling an unfamiliar burning in his eyes. A pearl falls from his eyes into the water. He catches it between his fingers. (A/n: mermaids cry pearls) The small sphere glows through the rays of the moonlit water.

Air. Humans need air.

The ignorant merman didn’t know what to do. More of his pearls fell from his eyes as he searched above him. There.

A few yards away there was a hole in the hard ice. His fin propelled them forward and he held onto the lifeless human. He didn’t know how but he managed to get both of them above the water.

The unfamiliar air tickles his warm ears since he hadn’t resurfaced in a while. His body was a furnace. Always generating heat. Maybe if he wrapped his arms around her, the human would heat up.

The human slowly did, but her fingers were turning blue. The creature could tell this human was dead. She looked so alike compared to his upper half but so lifeless. What if he knew this person from when he was a human? What if she was young and had more life in her? What if he could’ve saved her? How could he let an innocent life slip through his fingers after not coming into contact with the world for so long.

More pearls fall from his eyes and roll over the glossy ice. He was melting the surface from his body heat so he sunk back into the water. Pearls continued to hit the water and the ice but the merman made sure to keep her limp body in sight.

She was dead. What use was it to watch over her?

He couldn’t remember the last time another being besides the fish in the lake stayed by him. The small memories he had from 50 years ago flood back to the creature and his thoughts fill him with sorrow.

A melody bellows from within him and he weeps with song filling the shrill silence around them.

The God of Light awakes from the merman’s melody. Pleased with the creature’s song.

“God of the Shadows, a merman is calling out and weeping to us.”

“Seonghwa, Stop calling me that.” Hongjoong grumbles, cringing at the light seeping into the room. “You awoke me for a mere merman? Let him suffer.”

“It’s the one from 50 winters ago.” Seonghwa’s thumb strokes along the face of his golden stopwatch.

The memories flood back into the God of the Shadow’s spirit and it’s enough to coax him to rise from his bed. “Is he with the same people?”

“Come watch.”

The God of the Shadows plucks his silver clad fan from his wardrobe. Presuming his position next to his brother as they enter the Terra Conservatory of Humans.

The creature’s melody fills the conservatory and the two God’s listen in to his plea.

Blood surrounds the human next to the merman and Seonghwa exchanges a glance at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong flicks his fan open and shakes his head. “She’s almost at my threshold.”

“She has too much life left to live. Give her back.” Seonghwa watches intensely, observing the two beings.

“I can only slow her down. I can’t force her. You know that.” Hongjoong sighs. Fanning himself with indifference.

“Please cooperate with me, Brother.” Seonghwa gives the God of Shadows a side eye.

The God of the Shadows huffs stubbornly before shutting his fan. He twirls his wrist before flicking the fan open again.

Back down on the cold ice of the lake, the merman’s pearls sink down and mix with the blood of the human throughout the water beneath them.

At this point all that filled him was sorrow and regret. How could he let such a frail human’s life slip through his fingers?

“I’m- I’m so sorry!” The creature’s warm hands clasp over her skin.

In the long and dark hallway towards a Victorian styled archway, you hear a melody that slowly starts to increase in volume from behind you. Fear blankets over you and you realize that you’re walking towards the passageway of the afterlife.. A man with a silver shining fan waves his tool in your direction, shadows wash over him like a cloak and immediately you make a decision.

I just want to be alive.

Instead of embracing the shadows, you force your feet to lead you back to the beautiful sound of singing. That voice. That melody. Your spirit was being led back to earth and you could gradually feel the warmth of a rapid heart beat thumping in your chest.

You cough. Hard.

The water which filled your lungs spilled from your lips and burned on the way out.

Pain. Oh, how relieving it was to feel pain again.

Your eyes blank and for a few seconds your body is trying to catch up with life back on earth. Safe to say that you were under shock. You had just witnessed the supernatural. Something that you would have called ridiculous and absurd. How would you explain?

Your ears are literally ringing. You just died.

That voice. Whoever was singing… they saved you.

You search over the ice to seek for anyone nearby. No one.

Until the water burbles below the ice. There in the hole. You were one hundred percent positive that you had fallen through.

How did I get here? Who pulled me out of the water?

You began to wonder if it was that shadow man with the silver fan from the end of the long, dark hallway. But the more you pondered over the thought it just seemed impossible.

Your cold pinky finger brushes against something smooth and round. The moonlight was reflective enough against the marbled object for you to observe that it’s a pearl. It’s iridescence resembled the blue rays of a clear and misty oceanic wave.

It’s been a few minutes and the adrenaline bombarding your body loses its peak.

You remember the lacerations that your skates caused you as you tried to swim from the bottom before you died. Your jeans are torn and you’re covered in the metallic smell and crimson of your own blood. To gauge the severity of your wounds, you gather the courage to push the shredded fabric aside.

You gasp.

I can’t believe it.

You bled out. You definitely died. But... no wounds. None.

“You’re-” A man’s voice bounces off the water and into the shrill air. “You’re alive.”

Past your blood-stained skates, your eyes meet with the most beautiful shade of dark blue. His hair was so black that it shone like a navy crow against the moonlight. He was in the freezing water. Eyes wide and confound in everything he just witnessed.

“I-” You were speechless.

“You were dead…” He swims closer to the edge of the ice. You can’t put your finger on why he was so content in that freezing water. “I gathered you from the water... I- you were dead.”

“You brought me out?”

The stranger purses his lips, nodding his head. “I did.”

“I-” Your heart flutters inside of your chest and the feeling bubbles up through your words. “I was walking through the dark hall and saw this man-singing. Someone was singing. I had to run away. It was so cold-I was scared-”

“You heard?” The man’s torso elevates only a few more inches but you can visibly see the rippling water slide off his toned body. “You heard my singing?”

Nothing made sense. Everything that’s happened on this cursed lake shook you to the core. The shadow man. The wounds. The blood. The pearls. Death’s threshold.

There was only one evident piece of fact.

“You… You saved me.”

[ Ep. 1 ] >> [ Ep. 2 ] >>

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Tags (No obligation to read but I hope you guys like & support my new series<3):

@sakura-mars @nctrenjunie @filbert-forever @filbert-forever @wsrod-deszczu @owljungeun @allyreactions @jonghyuns-gurl @inavocados @burakovskybaby @hwilson16 @jimjamjaemin @sagexlove @neo-wonderland @neodreamwaves @kpopimaginesmut @yeo-dream @xiuminswifeforever

#Choi san #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez #admin mika #mika’s works #kpop smut #kpop imagines #san imagines #choi san imagines #ateez smut #choi san smut

157 notes · View notes

kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

#p5 #p5s #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #akira kurusu #pegoryu #happy birthday ryuji this ones for you

18 notes · View notes

et-lesailes · 4 years

Text

alibi

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

word count: 2485

summary: the death of harlan thrombey is being investigated, and while ransom seems to be the perfect suspect, he also has the perfect alibi.

themes: mentions of murder, drama, fluff

taglist: @evanstush, @chibi-crazy, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @mizariomi, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @marvelouspottering, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @peach-acid, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @hannie-stark, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @whores4thor, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @danathewitchywoman, @denisemarieangelina, @mango--mango, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @almost-had-the-stars, @sebastian-i-stan, @whysparker

notes: this was based on an idea given to me by @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory and i absolutely loved it! i did change it up a little, and no i did not reveal who the actual killer is-- because i don’t know how to write mystery fics for shit, and i wanted to focus on ransom and reader’s relationship rather than solving an entire ass murder. anywho there are references to scenes from the movie so if you’re sensitive to spoilers then don’t read! and thank you to @thewritingdoll for the graphic!

“You think I killed my Granddad.”

Ransom looks at Detective Benoit for a few seconds before scoffing, even smirking as he looks to the window of the elegant room lined with bookshelves. “And why exactly do you think that?”

“Now I didn’t say that.” The detective drawls, leaning forward and looking at the younger with intense crystal hues. “But you left his party early, right after a rather serious fight with him, and you don’t bother to show to the funeral… seems a little suspicious. I’d like to know where you were.”

Ransom looks at the detective for a few moments before leaning in as well. “Where I was,” he lowers his voice, “is none of your goddamn business. It’s not even relevant to anyone in this goddamn family, so you can go ahead and get your Kentucky Fried ass out of it right now.” He stands up, looking at the detective almost challengingly. “Maybe you should find another occupation, Detective, because you don’t seem all that great at this one.”

Benoit watches as the man turns around and walks out the door. A few seconds later, he stands up as well, walking outside. He gets into the passenger side of a waiting car, the headlights turned off.

He nods towards Detective Elliot sitting in the driver’s side. “Follow him.”

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER

“Interesting how you’ll show up at the reading of the will and not at your grandfather’s actual funeral.” Walt Thrombey comments as Ransom strides into the room, his expression bored as he tucks his sunglasses into his pocket. He barely smirks in amusement upon his uncle’s comment, sitting himself down on one of the couches and crossing his legs. “Had another commitment. Unlike you, I wasn’t stuck up his ass my whole life.”

Walt widens his eyes, immediately shooting up from his seat through struggling slightly with his limp. “What the hell did you just say to me? That’s not true, w-we worked together, of course we had to spend time together!” His wife quickly grabs his arm, giving Ransom a dirty look. “Just sit down, sweetheart.” Ransom notices his father barely chuckle out of the corner of his eye.

What a family.

“You shouldn’t be here, Ransom,” Meg hisses, glaring at her older cousin. “You never appreciated Granddad. All you did was fight with him all the time.” Her mother Joni bites her lip but murmurs, “Up until his very last night…. Seems a little suspicious.” Linda immediately turns on her. “Excuse you? Are you trying to imply something here concerning my son?”

“Oh come on, Linda,” Walt scoffs, “I bet you wouldn’t put it past him either. Kid’s a sociopath, always has been. We’ve been telling you to get him help for years.”

“My son does not need help!” Richard raises his voice, standing up infuriated. “And do you really want to talk about damaged children right now? Have you met Jacob?”

The young teenage boy looks up from his phone, clearly offended. “What’s wrong with me? Besides, I told you guys, I heard Ransom basically threatening Granddad! He clearly did it!” His mother quickly rubs his arm. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Jacob.” The fight only escalates from there, insults directed towards all the Thrombey children firing back and forth.

Ransom can’t help himself. It starts out as a grin, then a low chuckle, then finally a loud cackle of laughter. He’s practically thumping the armrest of the couch, shaking his head to himself. “Oh, God. You guys are too funny. We should do this more often.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Meg practically screeches, “What is wrong with you? How are you getting enjoyment from this?” Over her voice, other comments can be heard-- “He shouldn’t even be here!” “Can he just fucking leave already?” “Do something about your son!” “Why do you guys suck as parents?” “He should be removed from the damn family!” “Fucking spoiled brat!” “Cut him off already!”

Ransom scoffs, his face still full of amusement. “How about… eat shit,” he points to Meg, then Walt, “and you eat shit,” he continues, then chuckles seeing his parents reprimanding him, “you definitely eat shit…”

He’s still going as everyone’s telling him how “classy” he is, the uproar becoming louder and louder. Perhaps anyone else in his position would be affected by this-- it normally isn’t easy for most to be so hated and despised by their own family, and it’s generally quite stressful to be in a yelling match with at least seven other people. Not for Ransom, though. He’s lived with this dysfunction his whole life, and now, he only finds it hilarious how uptight and irritable his high strung family gets. They make it so damn easy for him to have some fun.

“Hello? Excuse me!” a loud voice rings above all the fighting, and everyone falls silent, looking towards the doorway. An old man is standing there, looking at the family in both shock and disgust. “We’re ready to read the will now, if you all are done.” Everyone immediately gets up, nodding their heads and forgetting all about the drama Ransom’s started.

For now, anyways.

Detective Benoit Blanc can’t help but study Ransom as the will is being read, taking in how calm and collected he is. He has not eliminated any suspects, and God knows this entire family is a mess of dysfunction and motive, but he has at least had the opportunity to talk with them and get to know them a little better. Ransom is still a mystery, and he finds this suspicious.

It is not long before the family is in an uproar again, this time over the will. Even Benoit is shocked. All of Harlan’s inheritance, gone to Marta Cabrera? He looks to Ransom, who’s simply sitting there grinning like an idiot- even beginning to laugh hysterically.

Ransom appears to be the only one who knew of Harlan’s plans before anyone else in the family. Benoit takes note of this. Perhaps it will help him later on.

PRESENT TIME

“There’s two cars in the driveway.” Lieutenant Elliot notes, the two of them watching as Ransom gets out of his. “A Honda Civic. Nothing flashy, expensive-- certainly not Ransom’s.” Benoit murmurs, keeping his head slightly low as he keeps an eye on the man from their spot behind a tree. He walks into the modern style home, and Elliot barely chuckles. “These giant windows sure help. Jesus, he must not care too much for privacy.” He raises an eyebrow, adding, “Not that this is going to give us anything, Benny, come on-- the guy killed himself. That’s all there is to it.”

“There’s just something about this boy.” Benoit sighs, looking to the house calmly. “He’s… hiding something. From his entire family. I’d like to make sure it doesn’t involve Harlan’s death.”

What the two see in the next five minutes is definitely unexpected, to say the least. Elliot watches the living room window in shock, scoffing slowly. “Unbelievable. This is what he’s hiding? How-- how could his family not know?”

Benoit watches, his expression unreadable for a few moments before the corner of his lips slowly tugs upwards. “I see.” He murmurs, more so to himself. “I suppose the kid could be innocent, after all.”

“Why am I here again?” Ransom raises an eyebrow at the man before him, crossing his legs. “We’ve already gone over this. I didn’t kill my Granddad, and I’m not answering any questions as to where I-”

“Anette Harper Drysdale.” Benoit cuts him off, looking at an open file in his hands. “Born November 22nd at 11:42 AM.” He looks up at Ransom’s shocked expression, tilting his head to one side. “During your grandfather’s funeral.” He looks back down at the file, flipping to another page. “It appears her mother arrived at the hospital the night before, though. Early contractions. You checked in to see her at 9:23 PM and didn’t check out until after the baby was born.”

“How do you have those?” Ransom immediately hisses, shooting up from his chair and reaching out to grab the file. Benoit lets him, having suspected he would do as much anyways. “We had reasonable suspicion, and so the hospital was required to give it to us. I’m only confused as to why you didn’t just tell us all of this from the start. You clearly had no part in your grandfather��s death. Why not prove yourself innocent with this?”

“Because my family can’t know about Y/N. And they especially can’t know about Anette.” Ransom sits back down, teeth grit from frustration. “Fine. You got me, alright? I’m married. And now, I have a daughter. A daughter who isn’t even a week old. That’s all I’m hiding here, and I want to continue hiding it. I’m not introducing my real family to this fucked up bunch.”

“I won’t tell them.” Benoit replies after studying the other for a few moments. “I have to admit, I had you all wrong.”

“Yeah, most people do. Look, being with Y/N- I’m not the same person I was before. I mean, sure, I’m not a fucking saint. And I’ll still take any chance I can to see my parents, cousins, uncles, aunts-- to see them get screwed over just because of how damn entertaining it is. But I’m never, never going to do something to jeopardize my wife, and now, my daughter. Do you get that?”

Benoit looks at the intensity in Ransom’s features. He’s sure the boy knows how to lie like a pro, but he can tell he’s not lying now.

“You can go, Ransom. I’ve officially eliminated you as a suspect from this case.”

You’re sitting at home in the nursery and cradling your sweet baby girl to sleep when Ransom walks in, his loud sigh echoing through the spacious living room. “Oh!” you whisper, wanting to call to him that you’re upstairs but definitely not wanting to wake little Anette. You carefully stand up, holding her close as you walk out of the nursery, coming to the banister that gives you a view of the front door so you can wave to him to come up. He immediately grins upon seeing you, taking off his coat and scarf tossing both on the nearby couch before making his way upstairs. “Hey.” He mumbles lowly, wrapping one arm around you and kissing your head. “How is she?” You smile, leaning into your boyfriend’s hold. “A little angel. I can’t believe how lucky we got, she barely cries-- only when she’s hungry.”

He stares down at his daughter’s face, almost in disbelief with himself. He never cared for babies, or for people for that matter. After living with such a shit family like his, he had never really learned what loving or caring for someone was like. He watched them use others, use his grandfather’s money for their own success, and so that’s what he did. People were puppets to be manipulated, and he could bend them to his will however he wanted because of his family’s money.

And then he met you. No, it wasn’t love at first sight, no bullshit like that. He hates to think about it but in the beginning, he saw you as he saw every other female companion he came across. Someone to play with, someone to throw money at for a couple of weeks just for the hell of it, someone to satisfy his sexual needs.

At least, that’s what he had wanted from you. And you were certainly not giving into it.

He remembers how shocked yet intrigued he had been. You wouldn’t accept any money from him, and you didn’t fall for any of his charming flirtations. He even had to watch you date other men right in front of him before finally realizing this was driving him crazy. It started out as simply wanting something he couldn’t have. As he got to know you, it turned into just… wanting you no matter what. It stopped becoming some type of challenging game to him. It became reality.

He thought he was the master manipulator in any relationship, but damn, you managed to twist him into all sorts of shapes and forms without even trying.

“She gets it from you, you know.” He mutters playfully with a scoff as he carefully walks you back into the nursery, eyes still fixated on his sleeping baby’s face. “Can’t even imagine having one like me running around.” You laugh softly at the thought, gently setting the little girl down into her crib. She barely frowns and you hold your breath, worried that those blue-green eyes might open along with a wailing mouth, but she simply settles down again and resumes sleeping. “Well, that might be a possibility in the future,” you remark as you step back, looking up at him with an amused smile. “Aren’t you the one who said you want us to have at least three?”

“Mainly because you look so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Ransom mutters, leaning down to bury his head in your neck and start kissing at every inch of skin he can. “It’s just so hot seeing you carry my child.” You smile as you tilt your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his hair. “Well my handsome baby daddy, you can calm down for the time being because I have no plans of being pregnant again right after giving birth.” He sighs dramatically as the two of you leave the nursery, closing the door but leaving it slightly cracked open. “Mm, fine, we’ll talk when Anette’s one.”

You chuckle softly but bite your lip, holding his hands as you stop to look up at him. “What did he ask you?” Ransom pauses before sighing, looking down at you seriously. “He knows about us. About Anette. But he promised he wouldn’t tell my family. He just cleared me from the case, I’m officially not involved anymore.”

You sigh in relief, squeezing his hand lightly. “That’s great, baby. But... what are you going to do?” you ask, a little worried. “Sooner or later you’re not going to have their money anymore. I don’t mind being the only one working, babe, but with a single income we might have to move out of this place…”

Ransom looks down at you more seriously, reaching out to stroke a strand of your hair behind your ear. “If I have to get a job at my mom’s stupid real estate agency, I will. No matter what, we’ll figure this out. I’m going to do whatever I can if it means providing for the two of you and giving you the best damn life possible, got it?”

You smile and nod your head, standing on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “As long as you’re here with us, we’ve already got the best life.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom thrombey imagine #knives out spoilers

2K notes · View notes

outoftimewriting · 4 years

Text

Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids) The Lost Hero AU (1/7) (6/12)

Okay so before you read this, there's the whole PJO AU that I've wrote on this - check on the masterpost - that is more or less essential to this plot. So enjoy! Have a good reading, and leave reviews and ideas! And don't forget to check the warnings before reading :))

Jason wakes up on a bus - he doesn’t remember where he is. Why he is here? How is he here? He is not supposed to be here - where is he supposed to be? Who is this girl holding his hand?

Coach Hedge seems familiar - somehow. Something in his posture, in the way he walks a little wobbly, it’s strangely comforting. And he knows that Jason doesn’t belong here - it means he is not going crazy. Maybe. The jury is still out on that one.

He doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know what a “Wilderness School” could possibly be - and who is this messy-haired hyperactive boy cracking jokes? Why is he with them - they're all seventeen? Sixteen? This boy looks young.

Piper. Leo. He has names now - information. Improvise, Adapt, Overcome. Say not always what you know, but always know what you say.

Jason has no idea where he learned that, but it seems like good advice. He doesn’t stutter - his back contracts with the phantom pain of lashes. He starts to ask - who are they, where are they, where are they going.

They are not helpful at all. Leo thinks he is joking - Piper is too busy defending her heritage, and he can’t really blame her for it - a flash of black skin, dark as night, crosses his mind, but is gone before he can connect it to anyone.

There's a pen in his pocket, a name carved onto it. It says Undisonus - which he knows means "resounding with waves".

They are in a Dam. The Hoover Dam. Jason ditches hyper kid, and goes to talk with the Coach - the man is a crackpot fool and Jason kind of thinks he is hopped up on cocaine or smh. He makes no sense - and he explains shit, like who lets this dude supervise children if he can't be clear.

At least Jason is not going crazy. Or not going crazy alone. There’s something evil in the storm - and the coach is a faun-...satyr-...Half-goat. Well, Jason hopes he is not traveling with his dude after this - the whole bus will smell like a barn.

They are fighting an evil storm. Jason's pen is not a pen - it's a sword, made of gold with green stones in its handle. Apparently, the rain doesn’t make him wet, and his sword can absorb energy.

He destroys the monster - Dylan was his name - By singing. He sings - it's not really singing as much as it's producing a very deep sound out of his chest - and the monster gets sloppy, erratic. The weaker ones - the venti - explode when the sound waves connect. It's like he is drawing the sound from the water itself.

Then he saves the girl from falling by using the tides to form something - a tornado? - and catch her. She seems cool. Kinda. Jason feels weird - he doesn’t know her last name. He doesn’t remember his last name.

Some teens come - three of them, in flying horses that he can hear on his mind, like badly connected radios. One of them is a tired blonde girl, who seems to take his presence as a personal offense. The second one is a buff girl who could probably break his neck by flexing her biceps, while the third one is a boy - a boy missing half a leg.

Jason tunes the rude girl out for a second - he is already getting punished for this mess by having to hear her. Apparently, she is after someone that is not Jason. But then, the boy missing half a leg - Alabaster - brings a name up, and Jason startles.

That’s the thing: He doesn’t remember anything - anything but a name. Perseus- no. It sounds wrong. Percy.

"Percy Jackson?" He asks.

Annabeth - or Commander Chase, how he thinks it would be right to call her - the rude blonde - looks like he just solved world hunger. Her voice cracks a little - Percy Jackson. Jason feels weirdly possessive of the name - it's his memory, his link to whoever he is.

"How do you know him? Do you know where he is?" She is on the verge of either fainting or crying, but Jason can't blame her - he would be bawling his eyes out too if only something inside of him didn't fear the sheer idea of sobbing.

Because Jason can’t tell why, or how, or who he is - but he knows that Percy is the key to unlock his memory. But he's been missing for a month.

He knows things. Jason knows they are demigods, what it means to be one - and Valdez (it sounds wrong to call him Leo in such an official situation) is a son of Vulc-... Hephaestus.

The blonde doesn't ask a lot of questions: he has been trained to follow orders, he has been hardwired to be a soldier. He stays in military parade rest the whole time until Commander Chase drags him to see an Oracle.

Jason is pretty sure it should've been called an augur. But they go anyway - and it's not the official person he is expecting. It's a redhead girl painting a face - a black teen, more or less Jason's age, with a purple and orange flower crown and a closed-off expression.

That's Perseus Jackson. He learns a lot about the boy in a conversation - Perseus is a son of Hades (Pluto, God of Riches and the Dead, his mind supplies). He is not sixteen/seventeen like Jason apparently is - he is eighteen and a high school graduate. He was - is, because Commander Chase is sure they're finding him - taking a sabbatical year before going to college - MIT or Stanford, the impossible choice, the Oracle jokes. No one calls him Percy - except for a select few close friends.

Something about this is wrong, just wrong. Augurs - Oracles, whatever - are not supposed to be girls in ripped jeans. They are not supposed to be planning to go to Parsons in the next summer - Aug- Oracles shouldn't even have close relationships to soldiers!

Something must show in his face - because the Cherokee girl, who followed them for a tour of the place, tries to grab his hand. He doesn't let her - Jason knows he shouldn't show affection in front of officers.

Commander Chase asks questions he can't answer. He doesn't know where Perseus had gone for a week without communication six months ago, nor why he came back with no memories of it. He doesn't remember meeting him. He doesn't know if he was in Kronos' side - even if a pit of rage opens in his gut at Saturn's - Kronos - name.

Perseus starts to sound wrong in his mind - Perseus is their leader, and it's clear in the way Commander Chase talks about him that she is his second in command - so he starts calling them General Jackson and Lieutenant Chase in his mind. He doesn't voice this - because even McLean is being called by her first name, and Jason follows as well.

Jason has a tattoo of a trident with bars - no, not a tattoo, a brand. So they split ways - Jason goes see (Senator? Consul? Magister? Consiliario?) Chiron, and McLean stays to be weaponized - It's bad management, Jason thinks, to give a soldier weapons before they know how to use them. But Jason is also just a foot soldier here - he has no opinion and no voice.

Piper is not having a good day - she is not having a good week. Her boyfriend, apparently, is not her boyfriend. Her mother, a goddess. She keeps having dreams - and the Queen of Gods just gave her a mission. To save her - or the whole world ends.

And Annabeth - the beautiful girl with the missing boyfriend (who Piper is not sure is hers or Rachel's, but she is pretty sure all priestesses must be virgins or something) - just rolls her eyes.

This happens all the time - the gods mess things up, and they clean it up. It'll have to wait until they have more information - and until there's an official quest.

They give her a weapon too - she has no idea how to use it, but it's a beautiful dagger. It even has a name, Katoptris. She feels like Arya Stark in that new show that aired in April - a true wolf.

Leo is also having a very weird experience - he has half-siblings. After all those years in the streets or being shoved in and out of foster homes, he has a family - and they think he is the second coming of Jesus or the Antichrist - no one is really sure yet.

Leo is a fire manipulator. Some of the younger kids there look at him with fear - but most of the older ones talk about Perseus Jackson (and isn't that a very popular person, jeez), and how he saved all of their collective asses with his own fire.

Leo gets curious - it's the boy Jason has never mentioned before, but is the only thing he remembers, his brother?

Jake Mason - their incapacitated leader - says that unofficially, yes. The dead counselor - the one that brought the curse - was Perseus's father figure, before he died in the war. But Perseus wasn't - isn't, they avoid using the past tense - a Hephaestus kid. He was the one and only son of Hades.

The thing is, Leo doesn't have a filter. So the first thing he blurts out is "Well, at least they did the fire right in the Hercules movie". Nyssa - and the idea he has a sister is equal parts amazing and terrifying - looks at him like he is crazy, but laughs anyway.

Jason has a vision of a goddess - he doesn't know her. She calls him her champion - but it sounds wrong - and she doesn't tell her anything, because why would her, really. Then, McLean enters, and, apparently, the Oracle was possessed (how is this any news, isn't the Oracle supposed to be possessed?).

This is all connected by the fact that Jupiter - Zeus - has closed off all mortal communications. Well, mostly - Magister Chiron says that it's possible the King still has some contact with his only mortal son, Nico di Angelo.

And isn't it just marvelous that the name makes something stir on him like everything else? Even so, Jason doesn't say anything - Magister Chiron is an officer. Di Angelo is clearly also an officer - and one who answers directly to Jup- Zeus.

Di Angelo appears - looking like a beggar in need of a shower and a haircut - and isn't this a blessing. Jason wants to interrogate him - but the moody teenager has important news - Hera is missing. And she is probably the goddess sending them the messages.

They go see a boy named Clovis, in the Hypnos Cabin - and that makes something stir in Jason - he feels happy. They're so relaxed - and while he has no memories, this feeling of comfort is foreign in his body.

Clovis - who Jason is half-sure is a zombie in human skin - tells him what he already knew - someone took his memories. News: It was Hera. Or Juno - because Jason didn't fall out of the railway yet and the gods have split personalities.

They go to sleep - all three of them because this has been a long day and none of them are in shape for the bonfire later.

Piper dreams of her father, and a fiery giant that tells her to go to a quest - and she is so, so tired of these all-powerful beings telling her to do something and not explaining anything. When she wakes up, she tells Rachel exactly that, and the redhead laughs.

"You and Percy, you'll be best friends. I don't even need to be an Oracle to tell you that" And then proceeds to tell Piper all about Perseus Jackson roasting the gods for being awful parents.

She thinks she might like him - Piper has never seen a black hero before. There's not much prejudice against color or gender or sexual orientation here - its harshly punished, and the person has to undergo classes about equality and prejudice. When Rachel spins her tale, it's clear Perseus was in love with Luke - and it's obviously unrequited but no less important for the decision that saved their civilization.

Leo is in a much similar situation - he dreams about his Aunt Rosa, and wakes up in a panic - he hated the woman. It's Nyssa - the acting counselor - who calms him down - she tells him all the newbies are like that, and once, it was Perseus who hold her.

It's weird how the hero seems like this larger than life person - everyone talks about him, all the time. He was their hero, an invincible wall of muscles and shadows with a giant ax, but most of the people his age see him as a big brother, a soft protective guy with big blue sweaters and horrible morning breath.

Leo goes spend time with Jake - but Jake is occupied. Being half a mummy and preparing to lose one foot because of nerve damage doesn't make him incapable of snogging his nurse, a very willing Will.

Jason is also on the Perseus Jackson boat - but he is in much deeper. He dreams about the hero.

He wasn't doing anything heroic though - it was just him, not even eleven yet, alone in a playground. He is sitting in the grass and there's a book in his lap, and some bigger kids are calling him names - charcoal lump, nigger, ape, monkey, negro - it just goes on.

Jason is a white person. A very Californian tanned one, but a white, blonde person nonetheless. He doesn't remember anything, and he has had no real contact with racism - that he remembers - even though he knows what it means.

But he is pretty sure people of color shouldn't be racist. Shouldn't they support each other? Why is there an Asian and a clearly Hindi (maybe Muslim, Jason is no good with this) person attacking him for his skin?

The memory changes now. Perseus is in his early teens, and he is at camp - well, at least this should be better. It's not.

Perseus is walking alone - this time, there's no one mocking him. It's worse. People look at him with a mix of fear and disgust - even people who have been singing his praises since Jason entered this camp. Even Chase steers clear of him.

The pavilion is different, Jason thinks. There are fewer tables, and the Hermes one is full - is where Perseus sits. People enter after him, and, although there's plenty of space around him, the only people who sit with him are three boys: one dark-haired in his later teens, a young blonde adult with an ugly scar, and Alabaster, with his full two legs and at least five years younger.

Jason feels some kinship for Perseus - the feeling of being ostracized is not unfamiliar. He tries to push after it - but he just wakes up.

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is chase Lt. Chase down (ha) and ask her about his dreams.

He doesn't tell her the first vision - she wasn't there, is not his to tell - but the second in great detail. She asks for a description of the two boys - and suddenly, she is both sad and happy.

"It happened to him," She says, and there's a tear rolling through her cheek that makes him think that this is Annabeth "Those guys... These are Luke Castellan and Ethan Nakamura... You're... You're getting visions of Percy. This... This is good. We can work with that."

Then she leaves muttering to herself, so Jason goes to track down the person who can tell him more: Alabaster.

Jason tells his dream again - and Alabaster gets a sad and wistful face. There are blue sparks playing in his fingers, and his mechanic prosthetic - a bold shade of red with a whip painted across the knee, the mark of Nemesis - whirs a little.

Alabaster doesn't paint Perseus as a hero or a beloved leader - he paints Perseus as a scared, relatable kid, twelve years old with the weight of the world in his shoulders.

He tells Jason how Perseus never had his own bunk - how most of them slept on the floor. How there were no cabins for minor gods and Cabin 11 brimmed with unclaimed children. How Perseus raged against the gods - but couldn't leave his friends to the mercy of Kronos.

How Perseus was never a hero just because he fought in the war - but because he fought for them, all of them, no matter which side they were in. They were just kids - the real battle was with the immortal beings.

Jason learns this, and something shines in his eyes. Lou Ellen snorts from her top bunk from where she is half-watching the scene - it's the same shine Nico Di Angelo got after Grover told him about Percy Jackson and that never left his eyes. At least this one is older.

The three newbies go to the bonfire - and they trade stories in the way. All of their stories involve Perseus - it's like he is the entity of this camp. He is this camp - there's no other explanation.

Jason starts talking about his dream - and Piper and Leo, who "remember" the blonde's crush on Piper, look at each other with resignation. Their memories may be fake - but this is very much the insufferable Jay they know.

Piper thinks she should be much more worried about her relationship with Jason, but she is cool - first, she apparently doesn't even know him, though she would like to, cause he is cool. Second, he is just a boy. The real life version of Aquaman - but a boy nonetheless. And she has bigger problems - like, for example, who is her mother?

They go to the bonfire - Jason creates a hurricane, and he's proved to be a son of Poseidon - he has a sister apparently, the Lieutenant of the Hunt.

Katie - a girl with the most amazing dreads Piper has ever seen in this life and a staff, which is not as cool as Piper's dagger, but just as lethal - tells her all about the huntresses.

Piper thinks that if there's a thing that she would give up boys forever for, it's an immortal hunt with a goddess. She asks Katie if the hunt accepts trans girls - perhaps after this whole business with Hera, she can join.

Maybe there, she will finally be accepted as a tomboy. Maybe there, she won't have to fend off questions of why does she "wants to be" a girl if she likes her messy hair and doesn't care about "girly" things. If cis girls are allowed to like skating and use baggy clothes and have short hair - why isn't she?

But she is kind of against the whole misandry thing. Sure, she can stop being with a man in romantic or sexual ways, but to not have male friends because "man is evil" is clear prejudice - doesn't matter where it comes from.

Rachel issues a prophecy - Leo volunteers (under the condition he must find a water-based way of transportation), and Piper thinks that's her chance, she is been having those weird dreams for a while now. But- as a girl she hasn't met, named Drew Tanaka - points out, she is not claimed.

Well - that changes pretty quickly. The dress isn't her style - not at all - nor is the make-up. But at least her mother recognizes her gender - it's Aphrodite, what could she expect? At least there are no feathers in her hair or animal skin clothing - the stereotype is just ridiculous.

At least now her magic voice has an explanation and she can throw it in Leo's face - see, she was asking!

Piper is given a bunk on Aphrodite's cabin - which has twenty-one children between the ages of 7 and 25, of all races and genders - and learns quickly that no one there is prejudiced - beauty comes in very different ways.

She makes friends, and discovers that Drew isn't a counselor - she trash-talked Silena Beauregard once and tried to use her charm speak on a young boy, and everyone ousted her - all Aphrodite children are resistant to charm speak.

Lacy is thirteen, and just a summer camper - she is cis and white and blonde with blue eyes. She also has social anxiety - so she is the only one Drew doesn't bitches to in public.

Mitchell is the only boy (of her fourteen half-brothers) in this cabin who actually talks to her. He is from Texas, and he's a shy nerd, with a big crush on both Annabeth Chase and Malcolm Cage - who Piper learns leads the Trans Support Group on camp, which has more or less twenty-five kids, from the now 157 campers.

Piper is surprised - it's 2011, and gender is still kind of taboo - but she shouldn't be. They tell her the gods are way freer with both gender and sexuality - Lacy doesn't have a father, but a mortal mother. There's a lot of year-rounders who stay because of homophobic parents.

She asks if gods can transition people. They tell her maybe Aphrodite, maybe Eros - but the ones who are over eighteen can ask to go on quests to see the deity Hermaphroditus - they are the only one who magically transitions people, but it's not without a price - they are a god, after all.

She decides that - prejudiced or not - Drew Tanaka is a bitch of mythic proportions. The girl has weaker charmspeak than Piper - but she uses it way more, and for worse reasons. She is twenty - almost four years older than Piper - and picks on everyone she cans - mostly young children of other cabins, even though she already got punished for it four times - counselors are ridiculously protective of their children.

Piper thinks Drew is such a bitch because of her trauma - the Cherokee girl sees her walking with a cane that looks directly out of a Prada store, and Lacy tells her Drew had to do a total knee replacement after the war, and when it's way too cold it bothers her. When she tells her theory to Mitchell, the boy laughs for the first time.

"Darlin'" He starts, with the southern drawl that makes people doubt he has no charmspeak "Drew was always a bitch. She was a bitch before she even knew she had charmspeak. She was a bitch when she got to Camp if that fella from Demeter is too be believed."

The older Aphrodite children just roll their eyes at it - Drew has no real power here.

"Don't worry, kiddo," Says the counselor, a non-binary kid that goes by Ariel and has an uncanny similarity to the princess, if not for the undercut and the pixie hair "She does her thing once more, and she is in laundry duty for the rest of the summer. And if she says an A about Silena too you, you come directly to us. No one trash talks Silena Beauregard in this Camp."

Leo has just done something amazing, he thinks. He fixed the steel dragon - Festus because maybe Jason will feel better with a Latin name - and he can totally make him work on water - like a sea serpent! He always wanted a Gyarados anyway.

It leads to an underground bunk - and isn't this the coolest camp ever - and Leo attaches motors to it. And a tail that works in water, so the transport is well and done.

Jason goes to explore his cabin - and he finds pictures there, of Thalia Grace's friends, that she left behind. There's one with Perseus, two girls in silver jackets with bows, a faun and Thalia herself - in the same Dam they were this morning.

She is his sister. He knows it, just like he knows the curve of his nose and hers are the same, the way both of them have the same curls when they let their hair grow - that's why both of them have it cut short.

He tells it to Lt. Chase. Not under the Styx vow - he has no need for it. Jason hopes she contacts his sister, and tells her about it - even when she tells him Thalia never told anyone about him. Well, maybe they're estranged. She might know something about him, anyway.

They leave in Festus, and Jason's water powers aren't even needed - Leo has it handled with his magical mechanic beast.

It's difficult to travel in the cold water - but Jason wills the water away, and it obeys.

Do you know who doesn't obey? Khione. The boreads go away easily with Piper's charmspeak - and isn't it a scary thought that she can will away gods - but Khione is more powerful than her.

And the gods keep complicating their lives. Instead of appeasing Aeolus - no. Let the demigods pay the price for their mistakes. However, Jason is a son of Poseidon - or Neptune, because Boreas exchanges form when they talk.

Their next stop is Chicago - which is really convenient because they can go the whole way by water.

The travel is, however, long, and Piper dreams of the fiery giant again - Enceladus. She hates dreaming about him - he calls her boy, doesn't care for her pronouns, and is clearly the villain, and Piper knows about dreams.

Her father may not care for their culture - and she is okay with that. However, she loved her grandfather's stories. And while Piper is Cherokee, she knows about the Navajo dream walkers and the Abenaki legend about the world created by the dream of the Great Spirit.

Dreams have power - in all cultures, in all religions. She is not making a deal with a creature that uses her dreams to communicate.

Jason - Jason Grace - Also dreams. And once again, he dreams of Perseus Jackson.

His first vision - they're not dreams, dreams mean they're not true - is of Percy in his middle teens. He is in a familiar pier and it's winter - as far from the water as he can possibly get. By his side, Luke Castellan - the one Jason knows later becomes Saturn.

They are talking. Well, Castellan is talking, all wide smiles and side-hugs. Perseus laughs at his jokes and blushes every time they get close to each other. There's not a sliver of Percy's skin to be seen under his neck - but Jason is pretty sure he is shivering when Luke whispers something in his ear.

It makes Jason weirdly bothered - two men aren’t supposed to act like that towards one another outside of the privacy of their tents or the throes of war. It’s a weakness - same sex’s company is stimulated in battle - to unite the ranks. But soldiers are supposed to do their duty and procreate more soldiers - even if he doesn’t remember who the war is against.

Perseus eventually leaves - melting into the shadows - and with him, Luke's smile is gone. Alabaster and the dark-haired boy - that Jason knows it's called Ethan now - come to talk to Luke, who is clearly bothered by something.

Alabaster asks him if he convinced Perseus yet. Luke says he didn't, but he'll keep trying - the son of Hades would be a huge asset to Kronos' army. The blonde's face is as cold as the waters must be.

The memory changes. Perseus is now maybe sixteen, hopefully, older - Jason doesn't know - with a giant hellhound by his side, hugging his own knees. He is in front of a river - somewhere dark, the Underworld probably - and he is crying.

This is the first memory where Perseus - Percy, for this memory is too intimate - shows any bare skin. He doesn't have a shirt on - nor shoes or socks. Jason gets sidetracked by the muscles - totally in a comparative way - but the presence of Alabaster brings him back to reality.

"Luke is going to rebirth," Percy says, full of sorrow "I saw him in Elysium only once - I'm barely able to get there, I'm no good with spirits, and I couldn't talk to him. It's his last rebirth before the Isle of the Blessed. Is it selfish, that I wanted him to wait for me?" Alabaster shakes his head, hugging the younger boy close.

"Did he ever love me, Alabaster? Even as a friend?"

Jason can’t see how it would be any different. Men don’t love men - men share beds and quick escapades into the night. But this - this thing Perseus has for Luke - is different. It’s all encompassing.

"Of course, Percy. He loved you as much as you love him. Just... Just not in the same way." He doesn't even hesitate to lie.

Jason wakes up furious for no reason - but he has no time to deal with that now because Festus is caught in a tempest. Without ways of controlling him, they shipwreck in a deserted beach - in Detroit of all places, still a day and a half of Chicago, even with Festus' speed.

There's an abandoned warehouse there. Both Jason and Piper are distraught from their dreams - everyone talks it over (kinda, Jason is too angry with his visions and too deep in denial) and they try to calm themselves while letting Leo solve the dragon problem.

Leo is worried about his companions. They can't sleep without having weird dream visions - Nyssa told him back in camp that was "normal" for demigods, especially those questing, but Jason has been dreaming of a missing person while being a missing person himself, and Piper is having dreams of a monster he is already 80% sure they'll confront sooner or later.

He must've been really sleep deprived and way too into his friends' stories, because he has a hallucination.

His sleep paralysis demon is clearly not up to news - She thinks Jason and Piper are together, even if Jason is having a hard crush on his literal dream dude and Piper is in love with her dagger - Leo thinks that if she doesn't get to stab something soon, she'll be stabbing them while they're asleep.

And even if they were together - what does it matter for Leo? In his fake memories at least, he has been third-wheeling for a while now. He doesn't really care - he is fifteen, for gods sake. Leo jokes a lot - but he had like, two crushes on his whole life: Penelope Cruz and Johnny Depp, and both because of the pirate movie they watched in class last semester.

Turns out the Muddy Mary was just stalling him - but he is Leo Badass Valdez, and he totally destroys those cyclops - What name is Ma Gasket anyway, what was Poseidon thinking.

They try to reform, but Jason mixes his relatives - and yes, Leo is holding this over him forever - with water: Monster Kool-Aid.

It gains time for them to get back on Festus and go to Chicago - with the tune up Leo gave on the disk, they're there in half a day and they don't even drown in Lake Michigan - even though Jason says he thinks there are sirens there.

Then its explore the sewers time. Festus is too small for them - so they are disgusting alone. Leo feels like a rat.

He and Jason talk - they start talking about their powers, and how Leo is confused about his own fire. If a hero had it, it couldn't be bad, could it? Jason equals it to his water powers - its the same, but in different sides of the elemental spectrum.

"If I learned anything with the Camp's fan love for Perseus - and I'm not kidding, Lacy totally has a shrine for him somewhere," Piper starts "Is that our powers, our parentage - it doesn't define us."

"I'm not a manipulative bitch because I can charmspeak... shut it Leo! It was just a car" Leo mimes driving away, and she swats him upside the head.

"Leo is not a demon because of his fire. Maybe a gremlin but-..." It's his time to try and swat at her, even if she is probably capable of killing him with her pinky after spending the whole two days in Camp with Rachel - her Oracle facade doesn't fool Leo, he saw that knife strapped to her leg - doing gods knows what.

"And Jason is not a fish, so we're all fine" They are laughing - and Leo thinks this is way better than those fake memories.

Their encounter with Medea goes a little differently this time. Jason is a son of the sea - his mind is too fickle. He and Leo don't fight each other - even though the scrawny boy tries really hard and Jason will lord this over him forever.

They battle the Sun Dragons - they're no match for Jason's power over water, and he does the weird singing thing - this time to lesser results. Maybe the bigger the monster, the less his powers work.

They escape through the sewers - with one very petrified Coach Hedge and a cage full of air spirits in tow. Jason liquefies the vapor trail in the sky - and they pray together for Zeus not to strike them out of his sky.

Leo finally has prophetic dreams of his own - his father. He is less cool than Leo though he was - but maybe that's Leo's internalized ableism talking. Or the fact that the god looks like he hasn't showered in a week - Leo can identify with that, being a sewer rat himself.

Their prayers don't work. Zeus - or something up there - shot them out of the sky when Festus is malfunctioning. Jason cushions their fall with a mini-hurricane - because the dude is clearly Ororo Munroe's frat boy version.

His baby is broken, partially cause someone up there hates him, partially because of where he landed. He prays to his father - and Leo thinks he's way cooler when he actually answers. With nowhere to go, the three of them go into the house.

Midas didn't count Jason being capable of controlling water. Soon, nothing is gold anymore - And he loves his sword a lot, but he hopes he doesn't have to see it for a while because anything gold will burn his retinas again.

Jason dreams of Perseus again. This time, the demigod is with a goddess who has the same exquisite skin color as him - and dreadlocks adorned with bones. They are curving shadows like smoke around their hands - even if Jason can barely focus on their conversation, because the guy he has been having visions about every time he naps is basically in a skirt and nothing more. Is he allowed to appreciate him if he is wearing womanly clothes?

It's really weird, to be peeving in a boy - in a man - he has (probably) never met and does not remember - but Jason is watching the guy's life. Private moments that someone (probably Hera/Juno, he bets she is the one who took Perseus too) is showing him - he feels like he knows him.

Perseus and the goddess talk - mostly about Perseus' school and Rachel. He seems happy - and carefree, even though he is probably over sixteen (if the last memories make any sense), and Luke Castellan is already dead. This is perhaps a little before he disappeared - and Jason rages against the unfairness of the gods' games.

Jason knows men aren’t supposed to be together - but he saw them at Camp. Same sex people holding hands and kissing in public - wherever Jason comes from, this isn’t talked about. He wishes that he could stay forever at Camp - this alternative reality where they are allowed to live freely. Jason thinks he might’ve asked Perseus for a date - lunch at the beach, perhaps. If he is allowed to stay and they find the son of Hades, he might do exactly that.

They rest in a mountain cave - and discuss Jason's dreams about Perseus (not in great detail, because Leo is teasing him enough about it) and Piper's nightmares about the evil fire giant - who Medea told them it's Enceladus. They have no idea who it is, but Jason is apparently a human encyclopedia of mythology - it's the bane of Athena.

They're attacked by Lycaon - who calls Jason "Lupa's seal cub". Jason is so tired of not remembering anything because this is probably supposed to be offensive, but it just sounds funny, and now Leo is going to keep calling him seal cub. If they survive, because Jason is way too exhausted.

He meets his sister - with Leo, because he needs a security net, and Piper has hypothermia - he feels guilty, because he did this to her.

And their story sounds like a tragedy. Thalia thought he was dead - and then she ran away, became a crying tree for five years, was saved by Perseus - because clearly, that Camp does not work without him - went on a mission with him to save Chase, almost destroyed the world, lost over half of her quest mates (because apparently, Perseus left the camp for reasons she won't explain - he doesn’t care, he’ll probably dream about it later), became the Lt. of the Hunt - and was now going stir-crazy because her mistress is locked up in Olympus.

Lieutenant Grace - how his soldier mind reverts her name quickly, sister or not, is really worrying - is happy to see him. They hug - and it feels for the first time, things are going well for Jason. Thalia and Leo even bond a little - over laughing about Jason's stupid decisions and dream crush on Percy Jackson.

He does have a crush on a guy - at least in the privacy of his mind. It’s just the boy’s stupid muscles and his stupid curls, and the way he was so carefree with that goddess, the way he curled in Alabaster’s arms, the way Luke Castellan never deserved him.

They keep talking - about Perseus, their missions, their lifes - and he feels like this was what he was supposed to find all his life, the missing piece to a long-standing puzzle.

They go to Aeolus castle. Due to their shared conversations, Leo doesn't make any conclusions - because all of these theories, about exchanging camps, they were talked about in the cave - when Jason first discovers the Wolf House.

They leave the mountain in a hurricane - Jason is really handy with these. At least they know where to go to find Enceladus: Mount Diablo. What a fitting name.

Piper meets her mother - and it's pleased that, when Aphrodite looks at her, she doesn't see blonde hair or green eyes - she sees a Cherokee woman, with short-cropped up hair and a lightning tattoo - the mark of a warrior. It's the woman she wants to be - not a boy she considers now one of her best friends.

Aphrodite tells her where they need to go. She tries to talk about Jason - but Piper says it was a bad idea. She shouldn't have given her those fake memories - it hurt more that way.

Aphrodite gives Piper a potion - and not only that, but she tells her that, when they meet again - not in a dream, but in life - she shall give Piper what she wants the most.

Her mother tells her some of her children are destined for greatness, and Piper is the Aeneas of this generation. Aeneas founded Rome - and Piper will shape the future of their civilization.

Then she tells Piper about the true enemy: Gaea. Suddenly, she wakes up, and oh Toto, they aren't in Kansas anymore.

They are in San Francisco - which triggers something in Jason because when they take a taxi, it's like he can't stop looking at everything.

There's a pier - Pier 36 - that Jason looks ready to cry when they pass through it. If not for the fiery giant threatening to kill Piper's father, she would probably stop the taxi - it's the first time Jason's facade breaks.

She thinks he might've been indoctrinated, as they do in cults or some religions, to believe that males have to act a certain way. Or fighters have to act a certain way - because he is certainly not misogynist. He looks fearful just to talk about his dreams about Perseus, though - like someone will come and take those from him because he likes them.

There's no much time for consideration, Leo thinks - soon, Piper saves her dad (who is prettier in real life). Then, they're fighting against Dirty Bubbles - because Jason is clearly Mermaid Man - if the way he keeps singing and the creatures get rekt by his voice are any signal. Does that mean Leo is Barnacle Boy?

The Earthborn holds no candle to Jason's power on an island. And Leo is helping a lot too because that's his best friend's father and he can totally paralyze mud with fire - is basic Chem.

Poseidon helps them defeat Athena's Bane - and how is that for irony - with an earthquake followed by a giant wave that - if not for Jason - would've killed them all.

Jason dreams on the helicopter - it's the first one not about Perseus. This one, there's a woman - her skin is as dark as the soil, but her hair merges with the wheat around her. She is clad in a green dress and holds a basket of strawberries to her chest as she whistles through the plantation.

Then, she sees him - and changes. Her hair goes up - there's a staff in her right hand, the corn went in exchange for loaves of bread. The woman smiles, and Jason feels like he's been embraced by warmth.

"My champion" Ceres starts, for he knows her name, with infinite care in her voice "You don't need to fear Juno's machinations. She knows nothing of motherly love - she shall never understand it. The winter is difficult - but the Harvest will bring deliverance."

It's the first time he is sad to see a deity go. Deliverance - does that mean that Perseus will come back by June? Summer is harvest - even if June is six months away.

Piper doesn't use the potion on her father - no. It won't help anything, to forget - she learned that with Jason. The boy has no memories and all kinds of triggers and internalized problems. Tristan McLean is going through shock - and as soon as Piper is done with the whole Hera/Juno and Gaea thing, she is going home and taking care of him.

Leo's fire can't see to open Aunt Callid-... Hera's cage. And isn't really weird his babysitter was a goddess grooming him for war - even though Aphrodite told Piper Gaea only awakened after Kronos, and they didn't even know Kronos would rise twelve years ago.

So Hera just groomed him because her mind went "Oh, Hades' child. May cause the end of the world - Idk how. Might need firebender - time to groom this child". Was he supposed to be her pawn for the first Titan War? Her way of being recognized - but she hid away her card when she saw the bigger threat on the horizon, to gain what? Prestige? Glory?

Is that why he survived so many years away from Camp, with no random monster attacks? Was he just... just hiding for later use?

Man, he sure understands now why people rose against the gods. They are assholes.

Khione is pretty - but as Leo said, a goddess. So, an asshole. She has this whole elaborate plan to make Jason's demigods (Romans?) start a war - but her plan is shit. So he fights her because she is an asshole and isn't even a good villain.

A mysterious horse appears - a very rude horse if Jason's increasingly appalled face is to be believed. Its (his) name is Arion, and together with Jason, they literally turn the battle tides.

Piper is magical. Literally - Aphrodite's blessing apparently doesn't cover only beauty - it makes her a battle queen. She jumps - and the air supports her. She falls - and the earth trembles. Piper moves like a dancer - even though she barely fought before - and her and Jason's voice make the wolves so confused they start banging their heads in the walls.

Piper sometimes forgets her mother is a daughter of the sea and the sky - because Jason's tides don't touch her, and the air seems to help her, to mold her. Aphrodite is not only pretty - Love is always in the last place you expect it. And so is Piper.

Jason fights Porphyrion - and the only thing he can think about is why. Why is he doing this, for a goddess who took his life from him - who took everything he was. Why him? Why not Di Angelo, who is a son of Zeus? Why not anyone else?

They keep fighting and fighting and fighting - and Hera helps, in the end, and claims all the credit - because this apparently isn't all her fault at all. She almost kills Jason - because is not enough to wipe his mind - but water (and Piper's reality control power) save him.

They go back to Camp - and nothing changes. They don't become their Cabin counselors - except for Jason, because he is the only mortal kid of Poseidon.

Lacy suggests it - but the older ones quickly shut it down. Piper might be a hero - but she knows nothing of schedules or child care, she has no idea of how to counsel - She is barely seventeen. She is a sophomore - Piper can't even be a year-rounder, and there are young children there.

Ariel does say she has potential - worth grooming to succeed be second in command to their second in command - Troy - when Ariel leaves for her master's degree in Chemistry on Princeton.

And Leo - Leo has no responsibility to take care of others. He is an incredible engineer - and his firebending powers are amazing - but he is also not a counselor. Between the sixteen Hephaestus children, he is the second youngest - he's beat by nine-year-old Francisca Alves - a Brazilian girl who gave them a whole lot of problems to immigrate because her mother was Hi Merimã (an isolated indigenous tribe north of the country).

Being a counselor is not something harsh - is hard work, taking care of tens of demigods of all ages, taking stock of their basic needs, and making sure they are educated and welcomed - it's not a job given away freely to fifteen-year-olds.

The cabins with more people generally have older demigods in charge - twenty-year-olds who don't run into danger unless under dire circumstances, who are year-rounders and take online college courses - an exception of technology rule made by Chiron when they first started getting old enough for it to be possible.

Ceres talks to Jason - she is the one to deliver back his memories, for Juno is otherwise incapacitated. She tells her what it means - the Greeks, the Romans. And that they shall not go looking for Perseus Jackson - for it'll damage the Romans' trust if the hero doesn't win them by himself.

Jason feels bad for Perseus - he won't find in the Romans the kinship he found in the greeks. The Romans are people of war and discipline - soldiers, and not friends. Everything within Rome, nothing outside Rome, nothing against Rome.

Leo is the Captain of the Argo II - who will go to Greece so they can defeat the giants. The prophecy is clear - Seven shall answer the calling. When Jason comes bearing news of Ceres' message and his past memories, it's pretty clear - Seven shall go to the Jupiter Capitol - the head of the Twelve Cities that compose the Roman side of the demigods.

It's easy to decide who goes. Jason, Leo, and Piper - for obvious reasons. Annabeth and Malcolm - who are diplomatic leaders and have their own mission on Greece. Nico Di Angelo - for they're traveling by both air and water. Will Solace - for they also need a healer.

Fourteen cabins are build - they don't know how many Romans are coming with them, but at least Perseus is. Well, probably. He has been through one Great Prophecy - he might just be way too tired of this bullshit.

Jason has his memories back. The Prophecy is in the works. He didn't count, though, on keep dreaming of Perseus for the next six months it takes for them to make it to Rome.

Oh, how he's going to be so happy when his counterpart punches Juno in the face.

109 notes · View notes

todisturbtheuniverse · 3 years

Text

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [9/9] - COMPLETE

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 3500 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

It was a good party, but Adaar's mood just wasn't right for it.

She'd drunk enough to set her stomach churning, enough to dull the pain of her superficial wounds, but not enough to muddle her head. No, that seemed dangerous. Everyone in the village, even Hammond, swore up and down that all of Koster's Carvers had been caught up in the tavern and outside of it—but maybe they were mistaken. A cruel voice in the back of her head whispered, Or maybe they're lying.

She wanted to believe that becoming Inquisitor had made her paranoid, but really, ever since that night in the cellar, ever since someone had taken a saw to one of her horns, it had been there, underlying. Her current circumstances just...exacerbated it.

She didn't like to feel that she needed to watch her back when she came home. Made it feel like it wasn't home anymore.

Maybe it wasn't, little though she wanted to admit it. Before the hole in the sky, she'd returned once a year, maybe twice if the Valo-kas happened to be passing nearby. Was it really home if she spent only a handful of nights there every year? Or was it just a place she went to visit ghosts, ghosts who'd taken home with them when they went?

She made her way down the narrow path in the dark, putting the party at her back: Hammond, merrily passing out the local brew, espousing its virtues to Cassandra; Harriet, playing a jig on the accordion, Dorian and Bull in the midst of the dancing crowd, red with laughter; Marguerite and Wilfred and Lonnie, gathered around a card table, groaning as Josephine took another round with a look of polite glee. Josephine, drinking Hammond's beer like she didn't mind the taste. Josephine, catching Adaar's eye above the heads of the dancers...

There would be time for that. Soon.

She kept the lantern she carried shuttered, unwilling to ruin her night vision, and besides, she'd always liked the fields of Duskfield under the stars. It was a far cry from Skyhold, that was for sure. You could see Skyhold burning miles off, up there in the mountain ahead of you; if she turned back now, the fires of the celebration would already be nearly out of sight. Only the Dancing Star would remain.

She came to the turnstile. Her father's handwriting had faded with the sun, and she hadn't re-inked it in a long while—hadn't had the chance or the time. She trailed her fingers over the word they'd brought with them from Par Vollen, the word that had failed so bitterly in its duty of care to define them, the word she carried. She walked on.

The house, merely a dark, empty shape among a missing piece of the field, came into view. Every time she returned, she found herself surprised by its size, by the idea that she and two others had fit there. It seemed desperately small now, compared to the world she'd walked, putting holes in her boots.

She veered away, off into the field on the left. The house would be there, when she was ready. But the ghosts could not wait another minute.

Through the waving grains, toward the tree that stood stark and twisted against the starry sky, oddly bleached in the moonlight. The field parted to the little clearing, its careful rock formations intact. She released a breath. Jana had kept care of this place. Even the bench beneath the tree only had a few dead leaves; Adaar carefully brushed them aside.

But she didn't sit on the bench. She stood before the gravemarkers instead, letting a little more light from the lantern out, the better to see.

Hammond had helped her carve them. He'd taken the chisel from her whenever she'd wept too bitterly to continue. Silently offered her a handkerchief when she was ready to press on. She'd seen a few tears sneak down his old face in those hours of labor, too. She'd felt, fiercely, that her parents had been loved—that she had been loved.

"This doesn't change that," she said aloud, though no one was there to hear her. "I know it doesn't. I know that's what you would say. I just wish you were here to say it, dammit." She drew a shaky breath. "Where are my manners? Hi, Ma. Hi, Dad. You would never believe what's happened to me, and I don't think I could explain it if I tried. I just want to sit with you for a while, if you don't mind."

She put the lantern on the ground beside her when she sat. The low breeze rustled in the tree's leaves, in the grain. Here, so far from everything, she could almost believe the world was the same as it had always been, that these past few months had not happened at all. It was unchanged, here, where she'd written Beloved Husband, Beloved Father; Beloved Wife, Beloved Mother on the stones. She was unchanged.

"I'll skip all the nonsense," she said, when she'd been quiet long enough to regain her composure. "But help me get this piece right in my head. I've met someone. She's...hmm. She's not what you'd expect, I think. As different from me as it is possible to be. But she's also brave, and clever, and kind. I think you'd like her." She paused, tipping her head back to let the breeze catch her hair, ruffling up her hair like her father's hand, like her mother's kiss. "I like her. But I'm afraid of her."

With the words out in the open like that, they seemed very silly. She snorted. "I know it's stupid. But...hell, you both must have been afraid, right? You loved each other so much that you left everything else you knew. Sacrificed everything else you'd ever known. Each of your societies, and your collective society, combined. And you were happy. I saw it. I felt it." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know if it's going to work out the same way for me, but you were right. What's life without a little risk, once in a while? And besides, I think...I think it might be time for me to move my roots somewhere else. For there to be a somewhere else for my roots to go. If there's a somewhere else left, after all my nonsense is through, anyway."

She brushed her fingers over the grave markers, over the words. They weren't here. Of course they weren't. They weren't sleeping forever in the dirt beneath her. Their ashes had been flung wide across these fields, over the place they'd chosen. It was the only place that had made sense to her. Give them back to the earth that had known such love, such care, from their hands.

They weren't here. But she felt them, anyway. The sharp edges of memory had faded, and she knew they would continue to crumble, but even when everything was out of focus, someday, she would still know them. Would know, always, what they wanted for her.

"You dreamed of bigger things," she said, her throat tight. "Guess I got it from somewhere, huh?"

Heartsore but decided, she stayed there, beside the markers, watching the stars, thinking. She wondered if they'd gone through this part, too. If, even when they'd decided, they'd been terrified out of their minds.

Probably. Probably they'd stayed scared for a long time. But it had been worth it.

She'd been there an hour, sore and tired and a little chilled, before she heard a voice call softly in the distance, "Adaar?"

Her heart spasmed painfully. She sat up a little from where she'd been slouched against the bench. The voice came again, closer this time, but the word had changed: "Herah? Are you out here?"

She steadied herself and called back, "Over here." She raised a hand, high enough to be seen above the grain in the slight glow of the lantern light, and waved.

Josephine emerged into the clearing, blinking a little; she carried her own lantern, but almost entirely shuttered, like Adaar's had been. She'd taken her hair out of all of its elaborate braids so that it fell, loose with waves, around her shoulders. There was a worried twist to her mouth, and Adaar felt a surge of guilt; she really ought to have told someone, anyone, that she was slipping away.

"Hammond told me you were probably out this way," Josephine said. Her eyes found the markers. "If I'm intruding—"

"Nah." Adaar waved this off. "I've been moping out here long enough. They'd want me to pull myself together."

Josephine offered a tentative smile, and sat on the ground, tucking her skirts beneath her, not terribly near Adaar but not terribly far, either. "I've never known you to mope."

"I wisely do it out of sight of other people, for the benefit of all."

Josephine tilted her head a bit to one side. "Except you."

Adaar released a startled laugh. "How do you figure?"

Josephine looked to the markers, her eyes passing slowly over the letters. "If you mope alone, you have no one to comfort you."

"I suppose I'll have to carry on, then," Adaar said, "since you're here to comfort me."

Josephine gave her own breathless laugh, and offered her hand out, across the small distance between them. Adaar took it, intertwining their fingers.

Josephine looked up to the tree's canopy. "This is the oak?"

"Yes," Adaar said, unable to conceal how pleased she was that Josephine had remembered. "They added the bench, not long after they arrived. It felt like the right place for them, after they died. Sometimes, when I was a child, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, and I'd see this glow in the distance, beneath the tree."

"It sounds as if they truly loved one another." Adaar did not think she was imagining the wistfulness in Josephine's voice.

"It was embarrassing to me, back then. Now, I—I see how precious it was, what they had."

Josephine nodded, but didn't say anything more. They sat in a comfortable quiet for a little while; Josephine turned her face into the breeze now and then. The cozy, combined glow of their lanterns created a little pocket in this clearing, as if the rest of the world was held at bay by the shine, just for a little while. A secret, away from everything.

Adaar touched her father's gravemarker one more time, silently asking to borrow his courage. "Want to see the house?" she asked Josephine.

Josephine's face brightened. Surely she'd seen the shape of it as she'd walked past, searching for Adaar. Surely she knew it was nothing special. But she said, "Of course," as though delighted at the prospect.

Adaar got to her feet first, then helped Josephine up. They picked up their lanterns and moved away, back toward the path. As they walked, the backs of their hands brushed; Adaar took Josephine's hand this time, and she didn't pull away.

"Jana built her own place, a little further down the road," Adaar said, and pointed with her lantern past the closer house. Barely visible in the dark was another huddled shape among the fields. "She stayed in my parents' house, at first, but I think it felt too strange to her. Like I would have felt to keep living there, almost."

"Among memories," Josephine said.

"Right. But she comes through every month or so, dusts, airs the place out. I was never able to give much notice before I passed through."

"She wanted you to have a place to come back to."

"Yes," Adaar said, and left it at that.

They'd reached the clearing, the yard; together, they stood before the darkened house. She hesitated, but only for an instant.

"Come see," she said, leading the way toward the door.

The inside was much as it had always been: there, the humble kitchen off to the right with its hearth, shutters closed tight over the windows; there, the old armchair her mother had once sat in to darn socks, where she'd nursed her newborn child; there, the door to a passageway that could barely be called a hall, and two more doors at the end of it, leading to the two bedrooms. One—Adaar's—had been an addition to the original house, built by her parents. Jana and some of the other villagers had helped.

Despite the frequent airing, it still had the faint scent of misuse, of absence. It had always smelled of something delicious, a warm crackling fire, the spring breeze, when her parents had lived. Now it seemed a painful, empty shell.

There was a faint creak; she startled and looked around. Josephine moved systematically shutter to shutter, throwing them open. The night air drifted in, chasing away the stillness of neglect. Josephine leaned against one windowsill with a sigh, the breeze tugging at her hair.

"It's peaceful," she said over her shoulder. "A good place to grow up."

"It was," Adaar agreed, putting her lantern down on the kitchen table beside Josephine's. "Not…not magnificent, or anything, but still good."

Josephine turned to face her with a frown. "Not everything needs to be magnificent."

"Peace." Adaar shifted uneasily. "I know."

Josephine leaned back against the windowsill, her expression softening a little. "What's troubling you, Herah?"

A little of Adaar's anxiety melted away at that gentle voice, speaking her name. She took in a low breath. "You were right," she said. "I was afraid. I am afraid."

Josephine took a hesitant step closer. "Of what?"

"Oh, lots of stupid things." Adaar rubbed at her forehead. "That your family won't approve. That people will make snide remarks to you. That you'll have to work harder to extract what we need from our allies. That it will all add up, in the end, and we'll see that this was doomed from the start, and have only bitterness left for each other."

"Small worries," Josephine said, teasing but not dismissive. "Do not doom us before we've even had the chance to begin."

"You really don't worry about that? Any of it?"

"I can refute your points one by one, if you like."

Adaar gestured for her to go on. "Convince me, Ambassador."

She liked the coy little smile that came onto Josephine's face at those words. It was wonderfully distracting.

"My family, whenever we choose to make public declarations, will be all astonishment," she said thoughtfully. "Scandalized, but delighted. I've always been the pragmatic daughter, with no tendency toward feelings or frivolities. It will be such a relief to them that they'll hardly register who I have chosen, and when they do, they'll fall over themselves thanking you."

Adaar couldn't help but chuckle. Josephine smiled a little wider and continued.

"I have no fear of snide remarks. Frankly, the topics for condescension have been a little stale lately; perhaps this will liven them up. Besides, I have an arsenal of my own. I'm always looking for an excuse to use them. As for our allies...well, turnabout is fair play. They are hiding plenty of things that they think are salacious. I'm not above leaning on those secrets a little harder."

"You make interesting points," Adaar allowed. "And these?"

She unsheathed her daggers, dropping them one by one to the kitchen table. Josephine came forward, stopping just short of Adaar. Lightly, she touched one blade.

"You saved my life with these," she said softly. "You use them to great effect, never without thought, usually in the name of protecting others. But you have not fooled me into thinking they define you. They are only a part of you."

She looked up at Adaar; Adaar looked back, torn, wanting.

"That's the thing," she said. "It used to be simple, and now it's hideously complicated. If I went back to the Valo-kas, I wouldn't fit. Even coming back here, I don't fit. And I don't think I've quite made the leap to your world, either."

"And you don't need to. There is no my world. I do not have the authority to offer you something so abstract. There is just me. For now—to start—I would just ask you for a little time."

Josephine slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, withdrawing a small, beautiful wooden box, polished to a high shine; even the golden hinges gleamed. She took Adaar's hand, turned it palm-up, and placed the box there. It fit neatly.

"What's this?" Adaar asked, momentarily thrown.

"A gift." Adaar got the feeling that Josephine had bitten her tongue on, Obviously.

"What for?"

She actually rolled her eyes, contrast to her fond smile. "As if you've ever made an excuse for the trinkets you give to me." At Adaar's raised brows, she huffed and said, "Very well, it is technically thanks for helping me with the House of Repose. In reality, though, I commissioned it as soon as you showed me the sketch."

"The sketch?" Adaar repeated, completely bemused now. "What sketch?"

"Open it and see."

Careful not to leave any marks in the varnish, Adaar opened the box. Nestled on a bed of dark green velvet was a delicate hourglass, gleaming in the faint light.

"I'm afraid I could only replicate one of the materials closely," Josephine said. Adaar lifted the dainty golden chain with numb fingers. "Wood, from a tree in Antiva. On the Montilyet estate, in fact. I'm certain it's not the same tree, but based on the sketch and the notes, I believe it's the same species."

Adaar could not have replied even if she'd known what to say; her tongue, usually so given to trip ahead of her thoughts, lay useless in her mouth. All the hair on her neck, her arms, stood on end. A ghost had walked right through her.

"And the gold your father used," Josephine continued, "that, of course, is irreplaceable, but the Valo-kas donated some for the purpose. The sand...Par Vollen is well out of even my reach, but I had some gathered on the shores of Haven. I remember…" Here, at last, she hesitated. "You seemed at home there. More so than in Skyhold. I thought you might like to carry it with you."

"You had the sketch in your hand for all of a moment," Adaar said, finding her voice at last. "How did you...it looks just like…"

"I have a good memory," Josephine said, with a modest smile.

"I…" Adaar shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"I have achieved the impossible. Herah Adaar, speechless." Some of Josephine's delight faded. "I hope I haven't overstepped. You do like it?"

Adaar held the hourglass out to Josephine. "Help me put it on?"

Josephine took it, plainly relieved. With deft fingers, she loosed the clasp, then fastened the chain around Adaar's neck; Adaar could feel her breath, just briefly, against her skin. She arranged the hourglass carefully, letting it fall into the V of Adaar's shirt, a little cool against her skin.

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Adaar said hoarsely.

"There is nothing to repay. This is a gift without strings. Though perhaps it lends a little weight to my request." Finally, Josephine's voice showed her nerves; it trembled a little. "I only ask for the next turn of the hourglass. That you set aside what you think might come, what might happen. Be with me, and when the sand runs out again, we will take stock of where we stand. Please?"

Adaar scraped a hand through her hair, driving the loose strands back from her face. "As we've established already, I can't say no to you."

Josephine's eyes gleamed. "That's not the same as saying yes."

There was not so much distance left between them now; Josephine had worked at it, chipping away right under Adaar's nose. The last of it fell away as she cupped Josephine's chin in her hand and bent her head to press her lips to Josephine's.

There had been a desperation, a stolen quality, to those other kisses—like a woman taking panicked gulps from the paltry spring she'd found in the desert, afraid that she would never drink again. But this was another thing entirely, a slow delight, something to be savored. She took her time, teased apart Josephine's lips with aching slowness, tangled her hand in Josephine's half-undone hair, lost herself in the sound of pleasure Josephine made in her throat.

When they parted, she drew just enough air to say, emphatically, "Yes."

Josephine did not wait for any further explanation; she, like Adaar, seemed to have decided that the time for conversation was past. She went up on tiptoe to kiss Adaar again, and Adaar picked her up to make it easier for her, arms tight around Josephine's waist. Josephine gave a breathless laugh of delight against her mouth.

Adaar would still worry, she knew. But for now, she would set the trappings of fear aside. She would see where this turn of the hourglass took them.

#josephine montilyet #inquisitor adaar #f!adaar/josephine #f!adaar x josephine #dragon age #inquisition #friends to lovers #class differences #mutual pining #developing relationship #universe writes

16 notes · View notes

percontaion-points · 3 years

Text

Foxhole Court chapter 4

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 4

"I thought you had [your boyfriend] Erik," Neil said.

"I do, but Kevin's on the List," Nicky said. When Neil frowned, Nicky explained. "It's a list of celebrities we're allowed to have affairs with. Kevin is my number three."

Normally, I wouldn't even bat my eyes over such a casual mention of something like this. But in a story that's already pumped full of abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, and probably a lot more nonsense to come...

The idea of an “allowed cheating list” just rubs me the wrong way.

“Then the ERC threatened to revoke our Class I status and fire Coach if we didn't start winning more

often. Coach bribed Andrew into saving our collective asses with some really nice booze."

"Bribed?" Neil echoed.

"Andrew's good," Nicky said again, "but it doesn't really matter to him if we win or lose. You want him to care, you gotta give him incentive."

"He can't play like that and not care."

"Now you sound like Kevin. You'll find out the hard way, same as Kevin did. Kevin gave Andrew a lot of grief this spring,"

I know that this is probably difficult for these people to understand. But normal people don't make playing a sport their sole personality trait. That obsessing this much over a singular thing with no hobbies or interests outside of it isn't healthy.

"Kevin wants to know what's taking you so long. Did you get lost?"

"Nicky's scheming to rape Neil," Aaron said.

HAHAHA BECAUSE RAPE JOKES ARE JUST SO FUCKING HILARIOUS. /ALL THE GODDAMNED SARCASM

Andrew had a short knife pressed to Nicky's jersey. Where he'd pulled it from, Neil didn't know, but he refused to think Andrew wore one onto the court under his uniform. There had to be rules and regulations against that. The last thing Neil wanted was for Andrew to stab someone in the middle of a game. The Foxes would be banned from the league in an instant.

So this guy 1) is a drug addict 2) is an alcoholic 3) has to literally be bribed to even play 4) is clearly mentally unstable and ready to literally stab somebody at any given time

Tell me again why he's somehow better for the team than the risk of him going loco and costing the entire university team EVERYTHING?

"Andrew is a little bit crazy. Your lines are not his lines, so you can get all huff and puff when he tramps across yours but you'll never make him understand what he did wrong. Moreover, you'll never make him care. So just stay out of his way."

JFC, now Nicky is saying to just let this sociopath do whatever the fuck he pleases?

This overgrown child needs to be institutionalized; not allowed to play team sports for a university. This man is a danger to society.

"You be something. Kevin says you'll be a champion. Four years and you'll go pro. Five years and you'll be Court. He promised Coach. He promised the school board. He argued until they signed off on you."

"He—what?"

I don't know why Neil is surprised by this. These people pressured him so much until he agreed to sign to attend the school to play. Why the fuck is them making deals about Neil behind Neil's back somehow any different?

He hadn't even realized she'd been injured so badly after running into his father in Seattle.

Wasn't daddy dearest in prison? Why the fuck was he running around in Seattle? I'm so fucking confused.

This was why Wymack's contract, Kevin's lofty ambitions, and Andrew's words meant nothing in the end. It didn't matter what they offered or promised him. Neil wasn't like them. He was nothing and no one, and he always would be. Court wasn't for people like him.

THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU COME?!

What I'm going to tell you is an open secret. That is, we know it," he waved a finger in a circle, likely meaning the Foxes, "but no one outside our team does. It has to stay that way no matter what, do you understand? People could get hurt if this gets out. People could die."

I'm not going to deny that there are people in the world who would murder because of sportsball. But all I'm saying is that their mental state was probably not amazing to begin with, and they probably shouldn't have been in society in the first place.

"They built this complex around the same time we started construction on the Foxhole Court. Thought our team would be something and people would want to live in the area to be close to the stadium for games. Then we couldn't perform, so the apartments didn't fill. The lower floors are pretty full, and the middle floors get rented out during football season, but top two floors are pretty bare.”

Yeah, that's bullshit. People would still move into those apartments, sports team or no.

He hit full speed before he reached the street, going so fast he was nearly falling over, but he couldn't outrun his thoughts.

Chapter 4 summary: The next day, Neil tries to settle into his new life here. He goes for a jog before going to the stadium early to get changed before the others get in. They have summer practice with just those who are there (the wonder twins, Kevin, Nicky, and Neil).

After practice is over, Nicky randomly starts talking about how Andrew fucking hates the sport, which is baffling to Kevin. However, Andrew has a hard-on for Kevin. And Nicky warns Neil to stop openly staring at Kevin, or else Andrew might get jealous and attack Neil. Because that's fucking hilarious, you know.

Andrew shows up, and randomly threatens Nicky with a knife over how he was apparently flirting with Neil. Despite Neil stating that he only just wanted to play sports, not to hook up or have a relationship with anybody. Nicky relents, and after Andrew leaves, tells Neil that he isn't his type anyway. He also warns Neil to just let Andrew do whatever he wants. Because that's how you should deal with people like that... right?

They then go back to the field, where they set up a mock-game. And good grief. I thought that watching sports on TV was boring. Ain't got nothing on this tedious wall of bullshit. After a while, Kevin sends Nicky and Aaron inside, and it's just him, Andrew, and Neil. They continue to play for a bit longer, but then Andrew then starts to beat the shit out of Neil with his racquet. Which... okay.

Neil eventually goes home, where coach yells at him over having “blown out his arms”. And I get that this is college sports, and it's on another level than HS stuff. But at the same time... this is literally day two of summer practice. There is literally no reason to threaten to beat a literal child up.

We have a two-week time skip, and then Neil goes back to the stadium later at night to practice. Andrew is there, mostly sober because it's late and he apparently can't sleep with those drugs in his system? Sure, whatever. Anyway, he says that Kevin promised Neil over to some pro teams after his term at the university is over. Neil doesn't think that this is true. After Andrew leaves, and Neil tells Kevin that he came to practice, Kevin is rude about Neil's ability to play, and says that practice won't help. This goes into what Neil said: that Andrew is full of shit.

Neil then sits down in the locker room and thinks about his mother's death. I don't fucking care about any of this.

Neil sleeps in the stadium, and goes back to coach's apartment just in time to hear him getting into an argument with Kevin. The exy overseeing board (whatever they're fucking called; I don't give a shit), is like “We're forcing Kevin back to the Ravens.” and when Kevin refused, now they're going to make the foxes play against the ravens.

Coach then flat-out tells Neil that Riko smashed Kevin's hand because he was jealous of Kevin's playing. He says that he felt like the abuse had been going on for some time, but the hand breaking was the final straw, and Kevin decided to get out before something worse happened to him. He then tells Neil that the Moriyama family is part of the yakuza, or the Japanese mafia. This continues on for a long while, establishing just how shitty that this family actually is, and how the Moriyama family controls the entire sport of exy.

But despite how terrible that the foxes are, and Kevin's injury, he refuses to show any weakness to those assholes who screwed him over so badly. However, this just convinces Neil that he needs to leave, and he needs to leave ASAP.

#All For The Game #Foxhole Court #chapter 04 #Neil Josten #Nicky Hemmick #shitty people are shitty #Aaron and Andrew Minyard #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK #What Is Happening #plot hole time!#David Wymack #HEADDESKING #do you even know how the world works?#Kevin Day #Riko Moriyama

2 notes · View notes

floatingcatacombs · 3 years

Text

Evaluting Gatchaman Crowds Through Rui’s Outfits

12 Days of Aniblogging 2020, Day 1

Oh, I’m fashionably late to this one. Gatchaman Crowds is a 2013 superhero anime that serves as a soft reboot of the old tokusatsu franchise, only now with 21st century shitty anime tropes. From this painfully generic setup emerges a surprisingly layered evaluation of technological disruption in the smartphone era. For this reason, Crowds is a favorite amongst anime bloggers as a superhero work that’s actually trying to do something interesting.

Unfortunately I don’t care about any of these guys

But it’s also a favorite amongst all sorts of weirdos because of the character Rui Ninomiya. A horrifying amalgamation of the technolibertarian CEO and trans femme hacker archetypes, Rui is by far the most interesting character in the show, because they’re a surprisingly prescient look at how the tech industry will function throughout the 2010s. But they’re also a ‘boy’ who never leaves their house without dressing in the most girly clothes imaginable. Predictably, this is catnip for me. But the funniest part of the whole situation is that nobody ever addresses it. Rui never provides an explanation for their outfits and the rest of the cast just uses she/her until they properly get acquainted and switch to he/him.

I could tell you that Rui’s obviously trans and wrap up the post right there, but that’s honestly not the most interesting angle of attack here. So I’m just going to use whatever pronouns I feel like in the moment for them and focus on what really matters: fashion! Rui has a surprisingly large wardrobe throughout the show, so I’ll be doing the heavy lifting of ranking each of her outfits. Oh, and also maybe a little analysis of what she represents. Spoilers for the whole show, of course.

7. The Yellow Dress

Let me lay out Rui’s ideology before I lay into their fashion disaster. You see, they’re a tech disruptor who believes that governments and bureaucracies are too slow to achieve the monumental (yet unspecified) change that society needs. So, they preside over a smartphone app called GALAX that successfully predicts Pokemon Go’s geosocial AR gimmick three years early. GALAX is a technolibertarian’s wet dream – crowdsourced emergency response, interest-based meetups, and matchmaking for people who need specific help and the people who can help them, all deeply gamified.

Their outfit here is about as messy as their politics, but at the same time, what a look. She’s got blue-and-white-striped programming thigh highs on under her combat boots, which are both such trans iconography, you know? While they may just be a reflection of early-2010s 4chan crossdressing culture, it’s also totally possible that Rui directly influenced or reinforced trans girl fashion, like the accelerationist she is. What a prescient show, in all sorts of weird ways.

6. Lace-up Dress with Bunny Ears

It wouldn’t be an anime girl cosplay without some bunny ears, now would it? Rui spends 5 minutes in an early episode just wandering around the city in this outfit, listening to people’s conversations and feelings on GALAX. There’s something very funny about how nobody even notices them, like they’re completely invisible despite their ridiculous outfit. This actually factors back into the tech stuff! Like pretty much every tech company, Rui’s app and vision are both sleek and shiny but rely on tremendous amounts of dirty labor kept as hidden as possible. From Amazon’s inhumane warehouse conditions to Facebook’s trauma-inducing moderator farms to Apple’s child labor-tainted supply chains, there’s always suffering humans behind the too-good-to-be-true magic of tech companies. Rui’s lie by omission is failing to mention that the app relies on invisible extradimensional beings called CROWDS that are manually controlled by underpaid workers to assist its users. One of the workers comes to Rui challenging their vision and arguing that they should be sharing this tech with the movers and shakers of the world, not trying to keep it invisible. He threatens a collective walkout and Rui fires him. At this point, we’re not even operating on metaphors.

5. Green Business Casual

Sure, most tech companies have cruel labor underbellies, but there’s also the separate risk of moral rot. It’s what causes Microsoft to take on ICE contracts and Google to develop censored versions of their search engine at the whims of authoritarians. Many tech companies start off with an altruistic message, but without a serious ethical core, they will start doing a whole lot of evil as they bend to financial and other pressures. Rui’s version of this is extremely literal: she made a deal with the devil to gain the ability to use the CROWDS and launch her app. Except this devil is also a butch gender-noncomforming alien (there is a Lot of other gender going on in this show that I don’t even have time for) and the two of them seem to have an extremely fucked-up relationship. Like any good Faustian bargain or any bad attempt at raising more venture capital without a viable business model, eventually the whole thing comes tumbling down and now you’re doing something terribly fucked up. Rui looks good in a dress shirt, at least!

4. Whatever your abusive partner puts on when she body-snatches you

Of course the center won’t hold, GALAX is subject to a hostile takeover, and to nobody’s surprise, an app with the flimsy promise to change the world for the better can actually be way better at ripping it all apart. I guess the prescient social media parallel here is Facebook being used to propagate Myanmar’s ethnic cleansing, or really anything related to Twitter for the last 5 years. FuckedUpAlienMimic!Rui sure does have cute fangs and a way more refined fashion sense though. I don’t feel like looking into that one.

3. Business....Futch?

I know I’m not done outlining Rui’s arc, but I’m going to skip ahead for a moment to say that Gatchaman Crowds also has a second season! I’m largely ignoring it here because Rui is pretty much stripped of all plot relevance and most of her outfits are less exciting, but I had to include this one. For two episodes, she puts on bright yellow stirrup leggings and an oversized polo shirt, with a cute ponytail to boot. It’s a ridiculous look, but still feels really evocative to me. Sometimes a girl just has to put together completely uncoordinated outfits and see what happens.

Unlike the disruption-focused first season, Gatchaman Crowds season two, which aired in 2015, is about how unfettered technolibertarianism can easily descend into fascism. Goddammit.

2. The Bunny Ears Outfit Again Oh God Who Hurt Her

The weight of the world comes crashing down in Rui’s hands, she’s bruised and beaten in a surprisingly sadistic manner by her alien ex-business partner/girlfriend, and she’s locked out of her own company which is very quickly causing society to fall apart. So what does she do? She puts the bunny dress back on, and wanders the streets again until she has to call upon the powers that be to fix her own mess. It’s silly that the powers that be in this world are superheroes, but I bet you forgot that this was technically a superhero show at this point. Anyways, my extended metaphor is quickly drifting off course, but I guess this is the part where Rui gets grilled by Congress and slapped with an antitrust case.

1. Every Trans Girl Stereotype Rolled Into One

I’ve been incredibly harsh on Rui throughout this writeup, because I’m harsh on the industry she represents, but I’ll make it up with this section. Look at what she’s wearing! A choker, the gothiest Hot Topic dress imaginable, arm warmers, no less than three asymmetric garters not even holding up anything, and the tallest black boots she could find. It’s incredible! If the first outfit on this list was hinting at her relationship to stereotypical trans fashion, then this outfit just screams it. It’s the perfect goth femme hacker look, a style commitment I have no choice but to respect.

Gatchaman is a weird show. After spending most of its runtime thoroughly dunking on tech disruptors for being too optimistic and uncritical, it takes a last-minute turn into Lockean state of nature arguments. It settles on “the masses are inherently good enough that empowering people through technology shouldn’t ever be a problem”, ignoring all the suffering that happened due to Rui’s unwillingness to curate their own technology. I’d give Gatchaman Crowds an average rating, but it’s one of those interesting average ratings where instead of being milquetoast, they tried something and failed and wrote themselves into a corner. But hey, at least there’s an interestingly gendered character!

#12 days of anime #gatchaman crowds #rui ninomiya #trans #technology

18 notes · View notes

17hansolah · 4 years

Text

Temporary Boyfriend~Mingyu

Okay, so... this is a Mingyu scenario I made about 3 or 4 years ago and never posted ‘cause I didn’t think that anyone would like it. But hey, here it is. I ased ig off of the manga Perfect Boyfriend if anything seems familar that is why. Hope you like it!

You should be used to this by now. But, somehow you managed to still feel surprised.

You had been stood up, again and you really thought that it could of worked out this time. But of course it didn’t.

The lonely table for two, nearly empty drink and sound of chatting couples around had now become somewhat familiar.

You waited at your table as you swirled your drink with as straw and took your last sip. Glancing down at your phone to check the time you realize that your date really isn’t coming.

Sighing ,you pick up your phone from the table and turn around to gather your jacket of the back of the chair. You take out the money to pay for your drink, when you see a small rectangular object on your table.

You pick it up and graze your fingers over it confused. It was black with gold writing and a gold clover in the corner of the card. It seemed to be…a business card?

“What is this you,” you mumble to yourself incoherently. You look around you to see if anyone was walking about but, everyone was seated and enjoying themselves.

That’s when you felt a finger tap your shoulder, You gasped in shock gripping your heart and twisting around to face a guy smiling at you. He had blond hair and an interesting sense of style.

“I can see that you’ve found my business card?” he tells you smiling. You gave him a confused look then you remembered the card that you hand resting in your hand.

“Oh, this is your business card?,” you asked.

“Surely is. I’m Hoshi by the way. So, I can see that you are having issues with guys.” he said whispering the last part.

You looked at him slightly insulted.

“No I am not!” you exclaimed a little too loud, which caused a few heads to turn in your direction. You quickly apologized and repeated yourself to, what was his name again. Oh yeah, Hoshi.

“Sure you aren’t,” he replied with a smirk. “Anyways that is my card and I believe that it will help you with all your boyfriend issues. There’s no need tp thankme,” he said with another big smile.

“But, there’s only a name on th-” you didn’t finish your sentence because when you looked he was already gone.

Once you reached home you quickly ran over to your laptop and pulled the business card out of your bag.

“Time to see what this is all about,” you tell yourself as you type in the name on the card.

Seventeen Sweethearts

The website read and the clover from the card appeared at the top. With further searching you found out that this website was one in which you could, order a boyfriend!

You looked further into the site and realized that these were all what seemed to be dream boyfriends. They were supposed to be people that were gaurenteed to be your soulmate. You skimmed over something claiming they were good at everything, reading something a long the lines of much better than humans. Whatever thats supposed to mean.

There was the bad boy, vampire boyfriend, the laid back boyfriend, even the typical sweetheart and quite a few more.

“Well I have nothing to lose you,” you said to yourself as you skipped the terms and conditions and placed your order already half asleep.

The next morning you woke up to the surprise of an extremely large package being delivered right to you. The people who delivered it seemed to be in quite a hurry to give you your package but, you signed the paper and brought your package inside.

You quickly open the package and the first thing you did was let out a scream when you saw a person inside. He looked..so..real!

You quickly examined his sleeping form and looked at the paper lying on his chest. You picked it up gently and it read:

Hello customer,

I’m glad that you chose to shop with Seventeen Soulmates. Please enjoy your soulmate to the fullest. His name is Mingyu. We hope you love him, even though he’ll already love you! To set him up you must kiss him. Sometimes it takes more than one kiss. Enjoy your sweetheart!

Good Luck,

Seventeen Soulmates

You look down at your boyfriend Mingyu confused and you began laughing to yourself. What have I gotten myself into.

You lean down and run your thumb against his cheek. His skin felt very soft and you were surprised that he was not human, or was he.

Disregarding this thought you leaned in towards his face, slowly placing your lips on his gently. Nothing.

You give him another short gentle kiss. Nothing.

“Why isn’t this working…” you ask yourself.

You decided to lean down for the last time and give Mingyu a gentle kiss but long kiss on the lips.

Still nothing.

“Well, I give up. Why isn’t he turning on. I guess that I’ll just have to carry him ba-.”

You heard a knock on the door of your apartment so you quickly rose to your feet. Leaving Mingyu behind and answering the door. You had not even opened the door fully before you were greeted my Hoshi stepping through the door.

“So how are you enjoying your boyfriend? Did you get him to wake up yet. Oh, it seems like you have.”

“No, I haven’t...” you turned around to see a yawning Mingyu, slowly getting up from his position. in the box. As soon as he saw you his eyes lit up and he jumped up running over to snuggle you in a warm hug. You slightly pushed Mingyu off of you and he motioned for him to sit down by the chair.

He obeyed and you sat beside.

“Um, Hoshi can you please explain to me. Um, well everything!”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. I said that I’d help you and I did.This is Mingyu, your perfect boyfriend. He is exactly how you chose him to be when you were describing what you wanted. He’s exactly what you think he is,” Hoshi said with a beaming smile. “He’s your temporary boyfriend!”

"Temporary boyfriend! What's that supposed to mean. I thought I was being set up for a date or something and this robot shows up to my door!" you wave your hands dramatically giving him an incredulous look.

It was his turn to look confused, "I thought you understood this when you signed up. You did read the contract and terms of agreement before you order right?"

You went silent. You were so quick to sign up last night that of course you didn't read the fine print.

"Back the look on your face it seems that you didn't. But don't worry I'll give you a recap of the most important information. According to Section 47.b of clause 76 "The customer who places the order must strictly adhere to the contract by choosing to keep their soulmate for the 1 month trial period in immaculate condition. This will allow for our compant to collect information on how succesful relationships can occur for people who were having trouble with love." As well as the most important part, Section 108.f of clause 52 "Any customer who fails to abide by this contract will have to pay $10 000 000 to the company for lost time and wages, wasted materials, labour." I could go on but you can read that yourself. That would be all you need to know. If you have any more questions or concerns please let us know. Here's a physical copy of the contract just in case you decide you cancel it." He beamed towards you as he pulled a stack of what has to foot thick stack of papers. Bowing politely he quickly exits through your front door.

"10 million dollars? How could I let this happen" You had to sit down to take in your new information. You looked over to Mingyu your temporary boyfriend and supposed soulmate. Placing a hand on his shoulder you look up at him with determined eyes. "Hi Mingyu, I guess we have a long 30 days ahead of us."

This was supposed to have numerous parts but I've written it so long ago and abandoned it :( But if y'all like it I might make a second part.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt scenarios #mingyu #mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenario #seventeen mingyu #mingyu seventeen #i literally wrote this so long ago but since my posting has become non existent here is a scenario

54 notes · View notes

blazinbeautywrites · 4 years

Text

Band Wars: Rise of the Phoenix

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

Length: 2,356 words

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this out guys. I was not happy with the final results and when I was I still was unsure so I rewrote it again and decided to just post it. I’ll let yall be the judge lol.

Genre: Honestly idk lmao

Chapter 1

Universal Music Group (UMG) decides to debut a new girl group, PHOENIX on their first ever reality show “Next Big Thing.” The winners of the show get a 5 year, 5 album recording contract and will tour with CNCO 1 year after they debut. The winner of the show was Zania Reye Bloom, followed by London Monroe Jones, Jolene Maria Sanchez, Siane Rei Choi, and Avery Lynn O'Reilly. The band is composed of 5 talented women with different ethnic backgrounds, ages 24-25.

Since the show served as the girl’s training they were immediately thrusted into the spotlight after the show ended. They went to work on their debut album and as the release date approached the girls were getting antsy. Now only were they about to release their baby onto the world, but they were finally meeting CNCO today and discussing ideas for their tour.

*UMG headquarters in LA*

“Yoooo I’m fucking excited! Can yall believe our debut album is coming out in a couple days?” London said as she led a couple of her members to the elevators.

“Girl this tour bout to be lit as fuck. Bruuuh we’re going to fucking Sweden. I didn’t even think we had fans out there.” Zania said.

“Yeah you can thank that girl Astrid who made the finals. She was Swedish.” Avery said.

The girls finally heard the elevator ding at their floor and immediately got out. The girls walked into a meeting room where they saw their other 2 members Jolene and Siane bonding with the boys of CNCO.

“Finally you bitches show up. What took yall so long?” Siane asked.

“Avery thinks she’s still in Ireland and almost drove us into a damn ditch.” Zania said.

“You’re alive aren’t you? So quit complaining.” Avery said as she took a seat opposite Erick.

“Anyways if yall are done….THIS is CNCO ladies. This is Zabdiel, Christopher, Erick, Joel, and this is Richard.” Siane said as she pointed to each boy as she introduced them. Richard definitely caught Zania’s eye and she quickly averted her eyes so he wouldn’t catch her ogling him. Little did she know, he was checking her out too.

“And I’m Zania, and of course yall met Jolene and Siane. This is London and Avery.” She said as she gestured to her other bandmates. She was about to say something else when a tall, slender woman walked into the room followed by a man wearing the loudest shade of yellow and another woman dressed in all black.

“Okay let’s make this short and sweet. I’m Veronica Pierce, you can call me Vee or Ms. Pierce, never Veronica. Get it? Got it? Good. I am your tour creative director. I’ll be working closely with you all to design your tour. And please, let’s all collectively agree on a specific concept. I will not have my people designing 2 separate stages. To my left is Chez Moa, your set designer. And to my right is Mel Carter she and her team will be styling you all so meet with her some time this week so she can get an idea of what you guys want and need. And ladies you have a busy weekend ahead. Friday you have your album release, press runs, then your album release party later that night. Saturday you’ll be on Good Day LA where you’ll be interviewed and then perform your lead single. Sunday you have a mini showcase where yall will perform some fan fave covers from the show and a few songs from the album, including your single with CNCO. You’ll have tomorrow, Wednesday, and Thursday to learn choreo for both performances. You’ll meet your choreographer tomorrow. Any questions?”

The whole room was silent as both groups stared at Veronica and her associates. Zania raised her hand and the other members of Phoenix sighed. They knew how this shit was about to play out.

“So do we get to breathe? Or do we have to pencil that in too?” Zania asked. She knew she was being an asshole but this shit was ridiculous.

“Hmmmm you must be Zania Bloom. They told me you had a mouth on you. Listen up sweetie this my show. I call the shots and if they bother you, you can leave.” Veronica said. Zania smirked at her and leaned back in her chair.

“Nah I’m good. You may continue, Ms. Pierce.” Zana said. Sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Anyways that’s all for now. And remember this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It can be taken away in the blink of an eye so watch yourselves.” Veronica spoke. She eyed the room but everyone knew exactly who that was meant for. She, Mel, and Chez exited the room in silence. Once they left, Siane burst out laughing.

“Yo I was clenching my fucking ass cheeks. She’s soo fucking hot.” Siane said.

“Keep it in your pants Siane. And Zania, girl why did you do that? You made that shit more intense than it needed to be.” London asked.

“You know me, I just had to say something. She was a bitch to us when we did the show, now they’re making her the tour director, wtf?” Zania said.

“Am I the only one who noticed that guy had on too much yellow?” Chris said. Everyone turned to him and started laughing.

“Look, I ain’t wanna say anything but he was so wrong for that. And it was a complete contrast to Mel who had on all black.” Jolene said.

“But real shit Vee ain’t no joke, she can make or break you. So just be careful.” Richard said. He made eye contact with Zania and she smiled at him.

“Oh I’m not afraid of her. She’s on a power trip so I’ll entertain her mess for the sake of this tour. You don’t have to worry bout me baby boy.” Zania said. Everyone got up to leave but on her way to the door she was stopped by Richard.

“I don’t know if you realized but I’m a grown ass man so that baby boy shit not gon fly with me.” Richard said. Zania was amused.

“Oh did I bruise your whittle ego babe? Look it’s not that serious-”

“But it is that serious so treat me with respect or keep it moving baby girl.” Richard said as he cut her off. He walked away leaving Zania stunned in silence. She walked back to her group and chuckled.

“Yall…...that guy Richard just lowkey put me in my fucking place. Oh this tour is gonna be so damn fun.” Zania said. She and her bandmates went to find their stylists to get started on designing their perfect tour outfits.

______________

It had been a full 5 hours and the girls were hard at work on their choreo. They were thankful that most of the songs they performed were their covers from their reality show so the moves were ingrained in their heads. They breezed through their choreo for their own singles and just finished running through them a final time before Laurieann Gibson called for lunch. The girls were beyond starved and as they walked to the cafe area of the upscale dance studio they saw CNCO walk through the door.

“Oop the boys are here.” Jolene said as she fixed her slightly messy hair. She made eye contact with Zabdiel as he and the other boys walked into the dance studio they’s just left.

“Ooooohhh do I sense a little crush? London teased.

“See that tall one, Zabdiel? I promise you, I will climb him like a fucking tree.” Jolene said, much to the amusement of her group.

“Woah. Down girl, we have a whole ass tour to get through.” Avery said.

“Look if I can’t fuck Vee, you can’t fuck Zabdiel.” Siane argued.

“Girl. Zabdiel is fair game, Vee is our fucking boss. There’s a difference.” Zania said as the girls found a table near the back of the cafe. Avery went to order them some food and soon a waiter came back with a tray of fruit, some finger sandwiches, and a basket of the cafe’s homemade potato chips.

“This looks so good and I’m starving.” London said. As the girls ate they discussed the difficult choreo.

“I really thought Laureiann was gonna throw her shoe or some shit at you cuz you couldn’t get that one move down.” Siane said.

“I wish she would throw some shit at me.” Jolene said while the others laughed at her.

“What kind of shit yall think they’ll have us do with the boys?” London asked.

“Probably something sexy, ya kno to pander to the fans.” Avery answered.

“I heard that they’re partnering us up with them for the collab so whomever we pick is our dance partner for the song.” Siane added.

“Well. this should be fun.” Zania said. The girls chat a little bit longer before cleaning up and heading back into the dance studio. When they arrived they heard their song with CNCO playing. Laurieann was teaching them their choreo and once saw the girls she turned the music off and immediately began assigning pairs.

“Okay London you’re with Joel, Jolene with Eric, Zabdiel and Siane, Avery and Chris are partners and lastly, Zania, you’re with Richard. Everyone please stand with your partner. I’m only gonna do the dance two times and then you’re gonna do it and we’ll fine tune everything afterwards” Lauriann said as she read off her list. Before the girls could even process anything they quickly got into formation to do the choreo.

______________

A few hours later, both Phoenix and CNCO were spread out on the floor, exasperated. Lauriann told them to rest up and that she’d see them in the morning before she left them all a sweaty mess in the studio.

“I swear there are parts of me that are sweating I ain’t know could sweat.” Siane said as she attempted to lift her head to no avail.

“Girl I feel like my fucking feet are gonna fall off.” Zania said.

“I can’t feel my left asss cheek.” Jolene mumbled.

“Bruh at least yall voices aren’t hoarse as fuck.” Richard said.

“We should probably start heading out because I need an ice bath or some shit.” Avery said as she willed her body to move. Everyone followed suit and struggled getting to their feet. When the girls began packing up to leave, Zabdiel strolled on over to pull Jolene to the side. Zania looked on and smirked to herself. All she hoped was that whatever they had going on didn’t get in the way of her group’s path to success. She snapped out of her little daze just as Jolene made it back.

“Well, what was that about?” Zania asked.

“Girl he asked for my number. I was like no and he said can you really say no to this face. I almost fucking melted so I gave him my number. He’s so fucking cocky. I love it.” Jolene beamed. Zania could tell her friend was happy so she chose to keep her mouth shut. The girls finally made it to the elevator when Zania realized she’d left her phone in the dance studio.

“Shut yall I left my phone. Yall go on I’ll text yall once I get home.” Zania said.

“Girl we’ll wait, just hurry up.” London said. Zania jogged back to the building and ran up the stairs to be quicker. Once she got to the door of the studio she heard the boys talking.

“I really like that girl London. She’s classy, yet has a sexy side. I like that.” Joel said.

“Now see Jolene….them lips. I bet her head game on point.” Zabdiel said.

“Ew bro what the hell!” Eric exclaimed.

“I know you of all people are not talking.” Richard said.

“Even though I think she’s kind of a bitch, Zania fine as fuck too.” Christopher said.

“Yeah she is fine. Yall seen that ass? I’d love to get behind that.” Richard said. Zania had heard enough and walked into the room.

“Yall should really make sure that the door is completely closed before you talk about us. Anyways I left my phone and just came back to get it. Oh and Richard, Zabdiel? I understand that Jolene and I are attractive but please don’t talk about us like we’re pieces of meat mkay?” With that she grabbed her phone and walked out, leaving the boys a little dumbfounded. Once she got back outside she filled her girls on what she heard.

“You know. We should teach them a lesson.” Jolene said.

“Oop I sense an infamous Jolene Sanchez prank.” Siane said.

“Yep. Okay so here’s the plan.” Jolene explains the little prank they’ll play on the boys at the showcase. They’d messed with the wrong girls.

_____________

The rest of the week went by in a blur and before they knew it, their album release day was finally here. It’d only been a few hours and their album was already number 1 on a few of the urban and pop album charts. Siane screenshot the Billboard charts where their album was number 1 and sent it to their group chat. She then called them all on a video chat.

“WAKE UP BITCHES! WE NUMBER 1 BABYYYYYY!!!!1!” She yelled into the phone. The others, as groggy as they were, laughed at how hyped their member was.

“Girl you are so lucky I was up getting ready or I’d curse you the fuck out.” Zania said.

“Bitch whatever. Anyways I love yall so much! We’ve officially ARRIVED! Like we in the fucking building forreal now. WHEW! Let me start getting my shit together. See yall soon. Love ya! Siane said as she hung up the video call. The girls were buzzing and couldn’t be any happier that after almost 6 months, their hard work has finally paid off and that their fans love their album as much as they do. They couldn’t wait to see what lie ahead for them. They knew whatever it was, it was gonna be big.

#cnco #christopher velez #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus #joel pimentel #erick brian colón #band wars: rise of the phoenix #bwrotp #cnco scenarios #christopher velez scenarios #richard camacho scenarios #zabdiel de jesus scenarios #joel pimentel scenarios #erick brian colón scenarios

12 notes · View notes