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#unbelievable how little family I have now compared to when I graduated high school
your-eternal-muse · 4 years
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She’s Got You Mesmerized
Heather Series Part Four
Part One Part Two Part Three
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Summery: Reader is getting sick and tired of keeping everything inside. So, she lets him know exactly how she feels. Well, not exactly.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader
Warnings: Beginning of Nicotine addiction (please don’t smoke), swearing, mention of manipulation, Heather being a straight BITCH
Words: 2.2k
A/N: Not much to say here except that I’m the one writing Heather, and I hate her guts. I need a bitchy last name to give her. Any ideas? 
~~~~
I’ve never been one to smoke.
I did it when I was in high school to appear “cool”, but I dropped the habit after graduation.
I never really liked the taste, and no matter how hard I tried, I always ended up smelling like it just a little bit.
But I understand why people smoke.
Rebel against their parents.
Need something to do to catch a break at work.
Relieve stress.
I fall into the last category, the nicotine in my veins like a blanket of calm over me, as I dial the same number for the 8th time in the past hour.
As it rings in my ear, I bring the cigarette resting between my fingers up to my mouth, taking a long drag in.
“Hey, this is Spencer. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
BEEP.
“Spencer, the jet was supposed to leave 40 minutes ago. Hotch is pissed, and quite frankly, so am I. I get you’re getting married in three months, but if you could maybe take your dick out of her for a second, and remember you have a job to do, that’d be great.”
Click.
One last drag before putting it out underneath my heel and climbing aboard the jet.
“Anything?” Hotch asks, looking up from the file in his hand.
I shake my head, sitting down next to JJ, and dialing his number one more time.
“If he’s not on this plane within the next five minutes, we're leaving without him.”
BEEP.
I hold it up directly to my mouth. 
“Pick up your fucking phone and get your ass here!”
Click.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, the effects of the cigarette already leaving me.
JJ pats my leg, looking over the file again.
I couldn’t help my sour mood today, or the past month for that matter.
Every attempt I made to just resume being his friend, and get over myself, he’s ducked out at the last second.
“Heather wants me to go cake tasting with her.”
“I’m sorry, I agreed to stay in with Heather.”
“Heather isn’t feeling well, so I thought I’d stay home and take care of her.”
Sometimes he doesn’t even give one.
Sometimes he doesn’t even show.
Finally, right before the stairs are about to lift, Spencer appears, out of breath and disheveled.
“I’m so sorry. My phone died.”
Bullshit. It rang. You declined it.
“The hickey on your neck says otherwise.” Derek says from his seat, looking over the edge of the file up at him.
Spencer’s face turns red, knowing he got caught, his hand coming to rest over the fresh bruise.
I smirk a little.
“Spencer, I know you’re getting married, but you’re still a part of this team. Please try and remember that.” Hotch is stern, clearly agitated that we’re so behind schedule.
Spencer sets his bag down, and begins to read through the material.
It’s a relatively simple case, two bodies, same M.O., and Garcia already found a connection between the two victims.
We’ll be home within a few days.
And then Spencer can go back to avoiding me for whatever reason he’s not telling me.
When we land two hours later, Hotch splits the team up, having me and Spencer go back to the station and start on the geographical profile.
He won’t meet my eyes since listening to my voicemails.
He’s a smart boy. He knows I’m right.
When we get there, a detective leads us to a small conference room, and I thank him before setting down my stuff. 
A couple of cardboard evidence boxes are sitting on the table, and I start to remove the contents, placing them in piles on the table.
I don’t look at him.
I don’t speak to him.
Because I’m not entirely sure I won’t break down crying when I do.
I wasn’t as angry as I was upset.
I promised myself that the one thing that wouldn’t change, was our friendship. I’d still be his best friend, and he’d still be mine.
But even that seems to be changing and it feels like there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I start taping up pictures of the victims and their wounds to the clear board, while he starts pinning up a map on the bulletin board beside mine.
The air is tense.
“You’re angry.”
No shit, Sherlock.
“How could you tell Spencer? Was it my cold shoulder or how I won’t meet your eye?” I begin writing down the notes we made while on the jet underneath the photos.
“Look, I know I was late. Unbelievably late. I should have told her no.”
“But you didn’t.” I slap the marker down on the table, turning to look at him head on, crossing my arms.
“No. I didn’t. I didn’t because-”
“Because you didn’t want to. You’re a guy, Spencer. When a pretty girl tells you she wants to fuck you, you can’t resist.”
I’m trying not to think about it.
About him fucking her.
How badly I wish it were me.
Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.
“But I’m not angry about that Spencer. You want to fuck your fiance, fine, there are less normal things to do,” I take a step forward. “No, I’m angry because every time I call you, you decline it, when you used to pick up before it even began ringing.”
Tears prick my eyes.
You stupid bitch, I told you not to cry!
“I’m angry because I haven’t had lunch with you for the past month and a half. I’m angry that you don’t even bother calling to tell me you won’t be able to make it, you just don’t show up!”
His eyes are sad, and I know that this isn’t helping anything.
I know that I should say ‘forget it’ and turn back to the case, but I can’t.
“I miss you, Spencer. I miss you and I don’t know what I’ve done to make you avoid me.”
“You did-”
His phone starts to ring.
I’m going to throw that thing across the fucking room.
He takes it out of his pocket, and I briefly see her picture before he slides his thumb over decline.
“She does realize you’re still an agent of the BAU, right? And isn’t she a teacher? Shouldn’t she be in school right now?”
He doesn’t answer.
“You didn’t do anything, Y/N, I promise. It’s just-”
His phone rings again.
Fuck this.
“I’m going out for a smoke. Talk to her. She’s obviously not going to stop until you do.”
I grab my bag off the table and walk out into the main space, finding my way out of the building and into the street.
I find a bench not too far away and sit down, digging through my bag and producing my pack of cigarettes and my lighter, placing one between my lips and lighting up.
You’re losing him. He doesn’t even want you as a friend anymore. You’re worthless. Worthless. WORTHLESS.
If I could punch the voice in my head, I would.
It’s kinda ironic, though. 
It sounds like Heather.
I take a deep drag and inhale, keeping the smoke in my lungs for a moment before exhaling.
My mind starts to go fuzzy and before I know it, it’s done.
I don’t have time for another one, so I sigh, getting up and throwing the bud into a nearby trash can.
I walk back through the building and up to the conference room, preparing myself for the next couple of hours, but I hear voices, and I pause.
I peek around the corner of the door frame, and into the room.
Spencer has his back to me, his phone in one hand, marker in the other.
“-best friend, Heather. She’s been my best friend for the past 8 years. Not seeing her is affecting our relationship. Don’t you trust me?”
I hear a sigh come from the phone. He has it on speaker.
“I trust you, okay? It’s her I don’t trust. Look, I like her. I think she’s sweet, but I don’t like the way she looks at you.”
“You still won’t tell me how she supposedly looks at me.” He’s annoyed, his fist wrapping around the marker.
Trouble in paradise?
“She looks at you like she’s in love with you. And I don’t like it. That’s why I don’t want you seeing her anymore. I’m afraid that she’s gonna do something and ruin everything.”
That. Bitch.
“She’s not going to do anything. Don’t you think if she had feelings for me, she would have done something by now? Baby, you have nothing to worry about. She’s my family, like how you’re my family.”
He pauses.
“I love her.”
“But not like you love me right?”
I’m about to beat this gas lighting bitch into the next century.
“Different kind of love.” His voice is quiet, and he’s looking down at the floor, and I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to break anymore than it already has. But I can feel the already broken pieces shatter.
He doesn’t love you like he loves her. He just said so. You’re nothing compared to her.
“Just making sure. We’ll talk more later. The lunch period is almost over. Love you!”
“I love you, too.”
He hangs up the phone, and shoves it back into his pocket, still not aware of my presence as I move to stand fully in the doorway.
“So that’s why you’re avoiding me? Because Heather told you too!?”
The tears pricking my eyes are hot, and rage builds in my stomach.
He turns, surprise slapped across his face.
“Y/N-”
“If Hotch asks you, you’re going to tell him that you didn’t need my help, that you told me I could go help JJ. Clear?”
His mouth opens and closes, and his shoulders slouch, as he nods his head, slipping his hands into his pockets.
“Good. Oh, and Spencer?” 
He looks up at me.
“Don’t forget that you had a life before her, and that just because she’s a part of it now, doesn’t mean she’s the only part.”
With that I turn, walking back out into their bullpen, spotting JJ sitting on a desk, talking to someone on the phone.
The call finishes as I walk up to her.
“He-, what’s wrong? You’re crying.” She stands, placing a hand on my arm. 
“I’ll tell you tonight at the hotel. But Spencer doesn’t need my help, so I thought I could come help you interview the families.”
Please help me.
She nods, understanding. “The family of the first victim is already here. Let’s go.”
We pass by the conference room where Spencer resides, and the door is closed.
We walk by, and the blinds are open, revealing him arguing into his phone.
They’re arguing over you. You destroy things everywhere you go.
I keep walking.
~~~~
Three days later, we’re heading home.
It’s late, and my team is asleep around me, even if it is only for a few hours.
I can’t seem to find sleep so easily.
Instead, I settle for reading the same page of my book, over and over again.
You know. For fun.
However, I am not the only one awake.
Spencer stands and quickly makes his way towards my end of the jet.
He sits next to me, his own book in hand.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, just sitting and staring at me.
“Whatcha reading?”
I close the book over my finger, keeping my spot while showing him the cover so that he can read the title.
Warm Bodies, By Isaac Marion.
My favorite.
“I should have known. It’s your comfort book. You read it when you need a break.”
I flip it back open and continue scanning the page.
“Y/N, please look at me.”
I huff, placing my bookmark in the crook of the spine, and closing it louder than I probably should have.
I look at him, and I almost apologize for my behavior.
He looks like a kicked puppy.
No. He hurt you. He needs to apologize for that.
“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize what she was doing until it was too late. Please believe me when I say I would never intentionally hurt you.”
It hurts more when you don’t realize it though.
“I told her that she needs to know that you’re my family. And that you’re not going anywhere.”
I can’t help but let my face soften, even though I wish it didn’t. As much as I wish I could stay mad at him, I can’t. Not when the look on his face is so genuine.
“I’m sorry for not calling, for not picking up, for the no-shows. I was a dick to you, and you didn’t deserve it.”
He makes it so hard to hate him.
“She’s actually really upset that she hurt you. She never meant to.”
For some reason, I don’t believe her, but go off, I guess.
He sees the hesitance on my face, so he smiles, and leans his head against my shoulder.
“Let me make it up to you. Lunch, at that Italian place you like? My treat.”
“Are you allowed to do that? Teacher said no.”
I run my fingers over the outline of the cover of my book, outlining the words.
He rolls his eyes. “Ha ha ha. You’re so funny.”
A small smile spreads across my face, as I reopen my book, settling down into my seat.
“I’m getting desert, by the way. Even if I don’t finish my pasta.”
He laughs to himself, leaning back into his seat and opening his own book.
“Anything for you, Y/N. Anything for you.”
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drawlfoy · 4 years
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The Wonders of Ohio P.5
masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: from 14 year old me babey
warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing
summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.
a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--
this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok 
anywayssssssss
tags tags tags  @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural
word count: 4.6k (;))
song recs: 
strawberry blonde -- mitski 
in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay
wishes -- beach house
ode to artifice -- samia 
pink in the night -- mitski
enjoy <3
The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.
“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?” 
Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty. 
How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.
“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”
“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.
Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”
“And it means that I’m…?”
“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”
Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.
“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.” 
He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was. 
Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.
It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.
“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.
“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”
She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”
Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“Ok.”
oOo
 There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks. 
You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes. 
Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.
By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.
“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.
“Er...yeah.”
“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.
“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”
“But, Li-”
“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.” 
“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.” 
“But you’re not related!”
“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!” 
Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”
Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”
Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about. 
“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.
“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!” 
“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.” 
“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”
Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.
“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.” 
 He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”
Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.
She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut. 
“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”
“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”
“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”
“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?” 
Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”
“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.” 
Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”
“I guess so. He is pret--”
“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”
“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison. 
oOo
“Thoughts, king?” 
“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”
“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned. 
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.
The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it. 
Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.
“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?” 
“Who told you about that?” 
“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”
“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.” 
“What?”
“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”
“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”
A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially. 
“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.” 
“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”
The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”
“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”
He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed. 
“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?” 
“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”
“Why only one?”
“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”
“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”
“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”
“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like are they nice?”
“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”
She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”
“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”
The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.
oOo
School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that. 
The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again. 
It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…
But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually. 
“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.
“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”
“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”
“Again?”
“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”
“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”
“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”
“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”
Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”
“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”
“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”
“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.
Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”
“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”
“You’re sleeping with Draco?” 
Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth. 
“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”
Sylvia’s smirk widened.
“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.
“Jealous, huh?”
“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”
She just raised an eyebrow and smiled. 
The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.
“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”
He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”
“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”
“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”
“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”
“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?” 
Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.
He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”
Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.
“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”
She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”
“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”
“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.” 
The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”
“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”
“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.
“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”
The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going. 
“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs. 
“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.
Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.
“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”
She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”
Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light. 
To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all. 
“It looks cool, open it u--”
“No!”
Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”
 “Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone. 
Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?
She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was. 
Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.
Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely. 
Draco was crying.
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usuccc · 3 years
Note
Please talk more about that au, villain Alfred is a guilty pleasure 🙏🏻
*sweats* You and me both! Oh man, where to begin. First of all, thanks for the interest! It means a lot. I can’t be concise, so I’m gonna put this under a huge ‘Keep Reading’ for whoever is interested. Like for real there is a whole ass essay below that cut. I left some stuff out cause it’s already a ridiculous length, but I got the gist of it.
Leave it to me to take a silly gag au and go completely off the rails with it. It’s honestly hilarious gg me.
This au takes place in some fake big city with dark synthwave-y aesthetics where the skies are constantly gray in the daytime from smog and pollution. Over the last ~20-30 years, Jones Enterprises has risen up as the most influential and powerful company in the United States, with their headquarters in (fake big city��s name). They have hands in many industries, spanning the manufacturing, retail, and technology spheres. Over the past 5 years, especially, they’ve seen massive, nearly unbelievable growth, and unfortunate events or sell-outs have conveniently fallen upon their competitors, allowing them to create monopolies in several industries. They also have the government in an iron grip and no one is willing to stand up to them for fear of the consequences. Most people mysteriously feel compelled not to confront them anyway, especially those who live closest to their headquarters.
Francis was an employee for Jones Enterprises’ main headquarters. He saw how overworked and underpaid his colleagues were. Bogged down by overwork in his first year, he eventually tried to get away with slacking as much as he could. After witnessing one of his close coworkers have a heart attack and almost die from the stress of working there, he changed gears and started speaking out on behalf of his colleagues. Some of his motivation came from feeling partially responsible for what happened, and he wanted to evoke positive change across the company instead. He tried time and time again to organize strikes after his attempts to organize a union were completely shattered. The turnout was very little in the beginning, and soon fizzled out to just him. He stubbornly pressed forward on his own anyway and was fired for it. Finding other work turned out to be impossible, his firing acting as an unemployment death sentence. It was not uncommon for employees fired from Jones Enterprises to be shunned from ever finding a decent job again, and Francis’s situation was even worse given the bad publicity he received from his strike attempts.
Ready to resort to desperate measures, Francis started seriously considering moving back in with his parents in France and figuring out a new plan. Jones Enterprises had gained significant influence in Europe too, so there wasn’t a guarantee he wouldn’t experience similar problems there.
Before he could buy a plane ticket, he was visited by Kiku Honda, a stranger with an unassuming appearance. Long story short, Kiku had come to the US with the alias as a simple tourist. His family was presently responsible for safekeeping a secret and powerful magical artifact with mysterious origins. 
The artifact was one of two powerful stones, both of which were in existence since the beginning of mankind. These stones were antitheses of each other, representing and contributing to major moral conflicts throughout history. They were both drawn to chosen human hosts who were destined to face each other. The pink stone, which Kiku was in possession of, gained and gave magical power through love, equality, and hope/healing. It formed a positive, nurturing, non-invasive connection with its host, and gave them the power to protect and inspire hope in others. The other (purple) stone gained and gave magical power through greed, subjugation, and fear. It gave great wrath and influence to its host, whose powers would grow exponentially over time as the two stayed connected. This stone would physically embed itself in its host’s heart, eating away at their mind slowly to bring out the absolute worst in them and shave away at their morals and inhibitions, until they were nothing but a heartless monster. Tendrils would spread out from the stone throughout the host’s body, growing in size and number the longer they were connected.
Kiku had long suspected that the unnatural growth of Jones Enterprises was connected to the purple stone. He had gradually implanted connections in Jones Enterprises and had been monitoring the situation for clues of a potential host. The senior leadership of the company was very hard to crack, however, and the CEO had significantly limited his public appearances in recent years, but Kiku would not let it rest. Any of the higher ups in the company could be a candidate for suspicion. While investigating, he heard of and even saw some of Francis’s brazen attempts to challenge the seemingly invincible company. He was impressed with Francis’s ability to stand up to an insurmountable foe, especially given the influence of the mysterious compelling force that kept most others in the city silent. He wanted to get information from Francis about his experience at Jones Enterprises and to offer him an opportunity to rebuild his life for his bravery. The stone, which Kiku always kept on his person, ended up choosing and bonding with Francis to both of their surprise, and boom Magical Strike was born.
-----
Now onto Alfred and Arthur. Alfred is the son of the founder and CEO of Jones Enterprises and his ex-wife. His parents divorced when he was still a baby, and his father did not remarry. Alfred’s mom remarried right away and had another son, Matthew. 
In his home life, Alfred often felt neglected and overlooked compared to Matthew, whom his mom and stepdad preferred and doted on. His birth father ignored him in favor of growing his company as well. This caused Alfred to act out at school and extracurricular activities, always overshadowing Matthew whenever possible and rubbing it in his face. He often got in trouble at home later for it. When Alfred got a little older, he frequently snuck out after these fights and went somewhere to be alone. One night, he walked down to the neighborhood park and saw another boy alone by the swings where he usually liked to go to mope. This boy was a few years older than him and muttering angrily to himself. Feeling a sort of weird camaraderie for this other pissed off dude, coupled with the fact he’d never seen him before and was curious, Alfred took the plunge and went over to talk to him. Alfred and Arthur’s first meeting was a little rocky, but the two quickly found themselves warming up to each other. Many coincidences found them meeting in the same park after a bad day, and the two eventually bonded and made a thing of it. Alfred found that with Arthur he could open up and be more authentic than he let himself be with his other friends.
By the time he hit high school, Alfred emotionally detached himself from his mom/stepdad, and tried to be a little nicer to Matthew, although their relationship was never close. He and Arthur still met often outside of school, and Alfred tried to reach out to him at school too, but Arthur limited those interactions due to his unfavorable status as an irritable loner. Alfred continued to seek out other people’s attention, forming a ton of superficial friendships with his classmates. He became obsessed with being number one at everything he did and getting everyone to like him to patch up his residual feelings of loneliness and inadequacy, and also to hopefully impress Arthur, whom he secretly had a crush on. Excelling in his sports clubs, and even skipping a grade in his academics, Alfred felt like things would be okay if they kept going the way they were.
Then Arthur abruptly confided halfway into Alfred’s freshman year that he was moving back to England that year after he graduated for family reasons. Alfred didn’t take the news well, and when the time came for Arthur to leave, it hit Alfred hard. They promised they’d keep in touch via phone and online, but that did little to comfort him and his other shallow friendships often made him feel worse. The feelings of loneliness and inadequacy returned tenfold. It was around this time that Alfred was contacted for the first time by his birth father in years, asking to meet and catch up. Alfred readily accepted, not taking a moment to think it through in his low emotional state.
Alfred’s dad was getting into some weird shit since the divorce. He’d been putting obsessive efforts into expanding his company, making strategic partnerships, attending all kinds of rich, bougie events for networking purposes, and exploiting his workers to maximize profits. Despite his efforts, his returns were decreasing and the existence of some key new competitors put him in a tough spot for future growth. When conventional methods didn’t appear to be making any progress, Alfred’s father started hanging around some wealthy, sketchy social circles. It’s through a series of events with these groups that he learned of and obtained the purple stone. After seeing it reject and devour an unfit host before his eyes, he decided he was in desperate need of its supposed power, but he couldn’t risk using it on himself in the case he was judged to be unfit. He had to use it on someone inconsequential if things went wrong, but at the same time malleable, so he could ensure they used the power to further his goals. 
Alfred’s dad put on an act when Alfred arrived, making it seem like he wanted to bring Alfred back into his life, raise him up like he should have been doing all those years. Alfred soaked it up like a sponge, and his dad appeared to follow through on his promises, engaging with him and frequently making secret visits so they could spend quality time together. After a whole year of building Alfred’s trust, his dad was able to convince him to put the stone to his heart, assuring him that only he could do it and he trusted Alfred to make their company and the lives of so many people who depended on it great. The stone embedded itself in Alfred’s chest, causing him to pass out from the pain. When he woke up, still in one piece, his dad was able to calm him down and convince him to keep it a secret, even from the people he was closest to.
-----
Some other tidbits of info:
Arthur and Alfred did keep up communication after he left for England, and he considers Alfred his closest friend. Life got in the way plenty of times, though, and they couldn’t always keep up the most consistent communication. Still, they did what they could and were able to meet in person a few times even. Arthur obtained a degree in England and worked his first job there. But after that, he moved back to the states and got a job at Jones Enterprises, thrilled to surprise Alfred about it. They have a heartwarming reunion. Alfred, himself, graduated high school early, got accepted into an Ivy League college on a scholarship, received his degree in finance and business management due to his piece of shit dad’s wishes, and was being directed by his dad to start using his powers of influence on their competitors. At first, he justified to himself that the outcome would be good and that the competitors he was going after were bad people—which some of them definitely were—but over time, he found himself doing things he never would have before (to unhappy employees for example), caring less and less about the people that were impacted.
-----
So yeah, the main events take place about 10 years after Alfred becomes the host for the purple stone, having plenty of time to grow his power and lose himself to the stone’s influence in secret. When Francis makes his debut as Magical Strike, Alfred starts infusing some of Jones Enterprise’s key weapons tech with his magic and sending people after Francis, who is still learning his abilities. Then, in the latter half of this arc, Arthur becomes the main antagonist against Francis, having just scratched the surface of what’s really going on with Alfred and thinking (in denial) this will somehow help him. At the beginning of the second arc, there would be growing tension between Alfred and Arthur when Arthur can’t explain or keep excusing Alfred’s actions anymore. Alfred would lose control and almost hurt Arthur, whom he had taken the most care to hide his darker side from, which would cause Arthur to join forces with Francis, desperate to find a way to get the purple stone out of Alfred and save him somehow. Alfred mcfuckin loses it when he finds out.
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jimlingss · 4 years
Text
Ghost in the Machine
➜ Words: 14.4k
➜ Genres: 100% Mild Angst, Android!AU
➜ Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.
➜ Warnings: Explicit descriptions of murder and lots of it, gruesome details.
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Namjoon opens his eyes.   The first thing he sees is you. Your expression is blank, lips tight in a line, eyes darkened. And you greet him. “Hello. What is your name?”   “Kim Namjoon,” he answers without needing to think twice.   “Perfect.” You shift back so your face is no longer millimeters away from his and inspecting him closely. Your arms are placed behind your back and your chin lifts. “Do you know why you have been created?”   It takes him a moment to locate the information of his purpose. “I was created to kill.”
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Namjoon is an android. Model 120994 specifically. He has sharp sensors and agile actuators. But over the wires, harddrives and machinery that drive his thoughts and movements is a skin-like texture that hides his true identity from the naked eye. His face has also been shaped to be perceived positively and the most likeable — blonde hair, strong eyes, and dimples in his cheeks.   Beyond a physical sense, Namjoon is advanced for what he is. He can understand thoughts, feelings, and expectations for how people want to be treated and can adjust his behavior accordingly. He is a humanoid robot with self-awareness and is able to make comprehensive decisions, respond eloquently, and interact with the world around him as any other human can.    And his sole function is for extermination.   “Who will I kill first?” Namjoon asks as he follows you to your modest living space — it is empty and white, lacking furniture and seemingly sterile. But he pays no mind to trivial details and cuts straight to the point only minutes after being activated in order to complete his task in the most efficient manner.   “Min Junseo,” you answer and hand him a file folder that contains relevant information and a photograph as reference. “You are programmed to know the procedure, correct?”   “Puncture the carotid artery for the quickest death,” he replies instantly in a monotone voice.   You nod and your lips slightly quirk in satisfaction — it makes him glad to know he has appeased you. “They are deserving individuals and worthy of elimination.”   “I understand,” he says despite not needing your reasoning in the first place. You are his creator after all. He will simply do as you say.   //   Within hours of the android’s awakening, he is already on the move to annihilate the first target.    He lingers in the dark alley, standing motionlessly in the corner where the light from the street does not cast its shine. There are littered bottles discarded on the ground, cigarettes snubbed out, the dumpster not far from where he is and where you watch behind him.   The door to the back of the bar finally opens.   The music is deafening until it becomes muffled again when the steel doors shut, squeaking on its hinges. A woman has emerged and she leans against the graffitied brick wall, reaching into her pocket for a white pack. She places a cigarette between her red lips and takes out a lighter, thumb flicking at the tiny wheel a few times before the end is lit and she takes a few puffs.   But then her eyes stray and she notices the two shadows in the corner of the alley. Her eyes widen as she feels your heavy gazes and she quickly walks towards the street where the light is, glancing over her shoulder a few times before disappearing.    Namjoon never once breathes — he doesn’t need to.   He merely stands there without blinking, like a stone statue, waiting patiently…...patiently...and eventually, the target exits the door. The man is holding trash bags in both hands, a red vest adorning his body with black trousers, name tag on the top left of his chest.    He is a waiter at the bar Namjoon had been stalking. Min Junseo: A thirty years old male, height of one hundred seventy six centimeters and weight of sixty three kilograms, blood type O negative, allergic to penicillin, a high school graduate, no children or spouses.   You stand on the tips of your toes, breath against his ear. “Now.”   And the android does not hesitate to barrel straight forward.   Right when the waiter tosses the bags into the dumpster, he turns at the sound of footsteps and his greeting is immediately muffled by Namjoon’s palm. The male android turns the human target around, kicking the back of his knee until the man’s kneeling and one of Namjoon’s arms wrap around the man’s shoulders, holding him still.    Namjoon takes the sharp blade out from his pocket. He places the edge below Junseo’s left ear with the handle alongside his chin, prepared to be pulled forward and across with pressure applied towards the center of the neck during the draw. The handle will rotate a little towards the opposite side during the draw so the neck muscles wouldn’t interfere with the cut.    But before Namjoon completes his task, he pauses beforehand.    For a mere moment as Min Junseo squirms in his tight grasp.   Junseo’s shrieks and screams are muted, arms restricted by the android’s hold. The man’s eyes are bulging from their sockets, fear and terror making him squeal like a pig, muscles trembling unwillingly.    And then Namjoon slits the man’s throat in one fluid motion.    It shears unbelievably easily and in the database of the android’s information, he could compare it to running scissors over wrapping paper or sticking a knife into soft butter. The skin and tissue of Junseo split and the external carotid artery is severed.   Namjoon registers that it feels wet and warm, his hands dampened in a downpour of blood. Junseo relaxes in his hold and Namjoon lets go, stepping back to watch the results of his actions.   Junseo puts his hands up, scratching his skin until his nails are clawing where the clean slit sits at his neck. He presses his palms against the wound but blood squirts past his fingertips. It sprays, a viscous fluid in a shade of crimson that almost looks akin to black in the darkness of the alleyway. The blood sputters and pours to the ground while Junseo struggles to get to his feet.   He barely manages to turn around. He makes disgruntled, inhumane noises as his eyes lay onto Namjoon’s blank ones as if he was trying to say something. But it isn’t audible when the man is gagging and gasping, choking on his own blood that’s accumulated into his mouth.   Finally Junseo loses consciousness and collapses backwards onto the ground. The blood oozes out around him in a pool, the sticky liquid bleeding to the gravel and rocks, turning it red. It drips off of Namjoon’s hands too, slowly drying and tinting his skin in a bright scarlet.   “You can leave the knife there,” you say to him, standing beside and looking at the disposed body. “There’s no need to take it with us.”   “I understand.”   The two of you leave the corpse in the alley and disappear as quickly as you came.   //   The old television plays in the corner of the living room. The static illuminates the dark space and casts its light onto your faces. It appears old and vintage — Namjoon is unable to identify what exact model it is. Though he notes that it is also a contrast to the clean and sterile environment you have created in your home, but he does not dwell on unnecessary findings.   It’s the news channel that you have on, two male anchors facing forward with their hands clasped. There are small headlines running at the bottom, the time and temperature of the outside in the corner. Then suddenly there’s a flash and some graphics on the screen.   “Breaking news. One hour ago, a thirty year old man by the name of Min Junseo, was found brutally murdered in the back alley of the local bar he worked at. According to police, the perpetrators may still be around the area and has urged everyone to remain inside.”   “Sources tell us that there are speculations that this homicide may have connections to the Ghost Serial Killer who has run rampant in the past five years, leaving a string of murders without DNA evidence or fingerprints of any kind. However police will not confirm if this is indeed the act of the Ghost Serial Killer and have no suspects at the moment.”   The other man nods at his fellow anchor. “They have urged everyone to take caution and to stay inside for the night.”   Namjoon turns to you with an impassive expression. “Have they misjudged the perpetrator?”   “Yes. They’re confused.” You shift to the android with the corner of your mouth quirked. “It’s not cause for concern. If anything, it’s better for us. We can continue like this.”   The android nods. Indeed, it works to both your advantages if the police link the homicide to an unrelated serial killer. But there are still questions he desires clarification on to continue in the most efficient manner. “May I inquire as to why we did not dispose of the body?”   You shake your head. “The family members must know that they’ve received justice. If they think he’s gone missing then we have not fulfilled our purpose.”    “I understand.” Namjoon receives the information and turns to you completely. “Who is the next target?”   The corners of your mouth pull into a bigger smile at his keenness. “They are not ready yet, but they will be in one week.”   “Then is there any task you would like me to complete in the meanwhile?”   You seem to contemplate for a second, hands behind your back, head tilted for a second. Then you shake your head once more. “No. You may have free-range and do as you wish.”   //   Namjoon is an adaptable and versatile mechanism, but he finds it difficult to preoccupy himself during his free time. It is not necessary for him to eat or sleep — all the maintenance required of him is to charge his battery every once in a while for approximately two hours. However in his spare time, it is challenging finding tasks to complete that is productive and helpful to you.   The android leaves you in the working room where you retire for long periods, recognizing that you wish to be left undisturbed.   So he decides to stare at the white wall for a few hours, sitting on the edge of his mattress, before he begins to wander the expanse of your home to collect information.    You live in an apartment at the side of the metropolis, a secluded location at the end of the hall on the top floor that is without neighbours. It suits your behaviour as you are reclusive.   The fridge is predominantly empty save for some water and spoiled cabbage. Your kitchen is white, clean, and seemingly undisturbed. The table has also collected a thin layer of dust, chairs unmoved with how the floor seems to dent where the legs have stood for a long time. Your bathroom is also sanitary and spotless, toothpaste full and toothbrush untouched.    The only place that looks occupied is the couch in front of the vintage television where the afghan is not perfectly folded after use.   After his inspection, Namjoon reads the dictionaries and encyclopedias, he sits down and downloads more scripts and relevant information into his himself that may be of assistance to you.   It is six days into his week-long time of having free-range that Namjoon stands at the window to observe the humans below and notices a spider on the windowsill.    A brown recluse spider. Lifespan one to two years. They are arachnids and rank seventh in total species diversity among all orders of organisms. They are carnivores, scientific name araneae.   Namjoon’s arm extends and the eight-legged creature slowly moves from his finger into his palm. His fingers curl into a fist, but Namjoon never tightens it. No.    He opens his hand again and then cups it with the other.   The android views the small creature in fascination, looking closely where he can see the spider’s tiny hairs and little eyes. He holds the spider and lets it dance around his skin, crawling over his arm. The corner of the android’s lips quirk before he moves to the window again.   Namjoon opens it and releases the spider outside, mentally bidding it farewell.   At the same time, his senses register the noises coming from the hall and turns in time to see you emerge. You greet him and at once, he recognizes your low energy levels.    “Good afternoon, Y/N. Have you slept recently?”   “No, I haven’t.” You give him a small smile that indicates a friendly demeanour and that his question did not violate any social norms.    “Then you should. Sleep deprivation negatively affects brain function and a variety of other parts, such as the immune system.”   “You’re right.” You nod at the android in appreciation. “Thank you for the reminder. I almost didn’t notice since I’ve been so busy.”   “I can prepare food for you if you would like. I know a number of recipes.”   “That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about me.” You hand over the manila file in your grasps, moving from the futile subject of your well-being. “I finally have the second target prepared. Her name is Jeon Yemin.”   Namjoon receives the papers and opens it up. At the top of the pile, he finds a school picture of a girl with black long hair and doe eyes. “Do you have a date planned for her elimination?”   “Saturday. Is that enough time for you?”   “Yes.”   //   It is the day before the planned death that you have taken Namjoon out to scout the target. It’s not unusual given that the first target, Min Junseo, was observed by him for several hours. But it is unusual that Namjoon is in public with you, not in the darkness of an alley but somewhere where others could potentially scrutinize him. Namjoon isn’t used to it, so he treads carefully.    Considering that this second target did not have a workplace or a consistent pattern of behaviour, it was vital to watch and plan accordingly.   “She’s going on a school trip tomorrow,” you inform him through a quiet murmur that his sharp sensors pick up on. “Her parents will be unaware of her activity for a handful of hours.”   “I see.”   Jeon Yemin is the second target. She is sixteen years old, a current student attending Yeonmi High School. One hundred sixty two centimeters tall and fifty four kilograms heavy, blood type A positive. She isn’t an honour roll student, but somehow obtained a scholarship with B average grades. She is a mediocre volleyball player and often travels abroad for weeks at a time on family vacations by the looks of her social media. Her most recent destination was Osaka, Japan during Winter break. By her banking information, she is to inherit a trust fund when she is of age.   Namjoon muses she will be an easy kill as he watches her enter a clothing store in the mall.    She is with two other girls, presumably friends but by the way their eyes crinkle when they smile, Namjoon observes that they are forcing positive reactions to whatever she is saying.   The girl must not be well liked by her peers — therefore she will not be missed.   “Nam—...Namjoon?”   There is a disruption to his left and his head whirls over, attention captured by the call of his name. It is a stranger that is slowly approaching him, a seventy year old man with poor posture that staggers forward with a cane in hand. Bright eyes, high cheekbones, and a sharp nose, but his skin is wrinkled and round spectacles that are smudged sit on his face awkwardly.   Namjoon searches his database within a millisecond but is unable to identify the man.   And as the senior comes closer, his frown only deepens and his eyes narrow.   Immediately, you place a hand on Namjoon’s arm and usher him away. The android does not hesitate to follow where you are bringing him, in the opposite direction of the senior citizen who croaks out to no avail until the two of you are gone and a nurse brings him back to the group.   “Do you know who that was?” Namjoon inquires you.   “I am unsure.”   “He knew of my name.”   “It doesn’t matter,” you scold and stop. Namjoon is high on alert, recognizing your irritation and annoyance. He realizes he must prevent you from experiencing those emotions. “You must not lose sight of the goal. You have one purpose and only one purpose.”   Namjoon nods at once. “I understand.”   //   Namjoon and you have been seated in the car since before dawn, sitting calmly in your seats while watching the front door of Jeon Yemin’s house. He had insisted that you slept while he kept watch, but you dismissed his advice and sat in silence with him for hours. Timing was of the essence after all and he’s gained enough sense of this target to calculate her movements.   Jeon Yemin is a privileged girl with an abundance of wealth but a desire to be accepted in a social circle of friends. She will reject being driven to her school trip in her parent’s expensive car, but instead opt to walk to the bus stop to meet with classmates there and arrive at school. The ten minute walk to the stop is where the both of you will grab your opportunity.   The way in which you confirm this plan only assures the android this is the best course of action.   “There she is.” You sit straighter, turning to Namjoon as the student is seen shutting the door behind her with her backpack slung over one shoulder before strolling down the safe neighbourhood street. “Earlier than her normal routine. It was good we were keeping watch.”   “Yes.” Namjoon observes the temperature on the dashboard and finds the outside to be low enough. “Should I begin?”   “Wait two minutes.”   Namjoon begins counting.   The car that you were in was registered to a man from across the country, an old farmer that has no relation to the soon-to-be victim. The paperwork simply needed to be filled and filed, easy to use for the purpose of this short trip. There was no flaw in your planning whatsoever and Namjoon finds you competent for that — but he already knew you were competent the moment he opened his eyes.   You created him after all.   Namjoon fires up the engine and begins to drive below the speed limit.   At the same time, you roll down the window and he stops right where the high schooler is walking. Jeon Yemin turns her head at the sound and halts as well.   “Excuse me,” you call out and motion her over. Yemin follows to stand right at your window. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know where Burtons Place is? We’re looking for 346 Burtons Place.”   “Oh.” The high schooler smiles, happy to prove herself useful. She points down the street. “It’s that way and then you take a left at Earlstone Crescent and then at the second road down, you take a right and it should be there.”   “Pardon me? A right at Earstone Crescent and then a right after the first?” You attempt to mimic her gestures and Namjoon observes, musing that you are quite good at deception. He smiles to appear friendly.   “Oh, no, it’s called Earlstone and it’s the second road down. Do you need me to show you?” Yemin smiles, her hamartia of wanting to be liked trickling down to the smallest of her acts. “I’m actually walking to the bus stop at Burtons Place.”   “That would be very helpful, thank you.”   Yemin gets into the backseat of the car.    The temperature outside was cold enough that the girl visibly eases in the toastiness of the vehicle — it is clear she has been pampered in her life as she unconsciously desires to be inside of a car and away from the chilly wind.    Perhaps your planning has also aided her subconscious into getting the vehicle. By picking a day that her mood would be undoubtedly good and she’s unguarded, dressing both you and him in her favourite brand, choosing an expensive car to drive in, and mimicking her body language, you had made the decision for her before she had the conscious choice of it.   “We’re newlyweds and visiting his mom for the first time,” you graze Namjoon’s arm affectionately while turning around to regard her with a smile. “So we’re a bit lost and the GPS can never get it right. I’m sorry for being such a bother.”   Your lies only put her at further ease. A friendly, young couple like you and Namjoon with polished appearances, attractive faces and apparent wealth would never seek to harm her.   “Oh, no, it’s fine.” Yemin bats her hand, obviously glad to be the person who knows most in this vehicle. “I don’t mind at all. Congratulations on the marriage, by the way.”   Namjoon glances in the rear-view, smiles until dimples press into his cheeks and he begins driving down the road. The radio plays some chirpy pop music, the car doors lock and the girl leans forward unsuspectingly. “Take a left here.”   He turns left and continues to drive. You face forward, leaning back.   “Okay, you can take a right here—o-oh. You missed it.”   “We can turn around,” you mutter halfheartedly.   But Namjoon continues to drive.   The girl becomes quieter, her body language timid and fearful. She waits for the U-turn, for the car to turn around and go back to where you said it was supposed to go. But it never comes and her voices of protest that this is the wrong way go unheard.   Soon, the avenues and streets become unfamiliar. “W-Where are you taking me?”   She gets no answers as the car merges to an empty highway.   Yemin frantically pulls out her cell phone from her pocket with trembling hands. She sobs out as it falls on the ground, but quickly snatches it up again. She begins to type a text to her friend, but it never sends. She cries in frustration and tries calling her dad, but it doesn’t go through.   “Your sim card has been deactivated,” Namjoon pipes up for the first time since the plan initiated. The girl is visibly shaken and her phone falls into her lap. “You won’t get wifi out here either, so you won’t get data connection at all.”   “You can try calling the police,” you snicker and turn around to pout at her as if you were sympathizing. “But you won’t have any reception out here and even if you did somehow manage to, it's nearly impossible for emergency services to locate a person without active service.”   Yemin begins to sob. She whirls her head around and grasps onto the doors, but they’re locked. She manually unlocks it, but it’s still unable to be opened when the child lock is engaged.   The girl hits her fists against the windows to no avail and then begins crying harder.   Namjoon drives for ten full minutes, out in the middle of nowhere with just green prairies and rolling hills without a person in sight. But his hands on the wheel begin to tighten when she starts begging for her life. “My parents will give you whatever you want. I...I have nothing!”   There is something in the back of the android’s mind that he attempts to process but is unable to. “Pl—Please don’t hurt me! Please!”   But he feels as if he has experienced this before. “Please!”    “Don’t do this,” Yemin weeps and Namjoon gets a flash, recalling how his hands tighten on the wheel before, how you were seated beside him, how another woman was in the backseat and cried— “Why are you doing this?”   “Just call my dad!” — “I have a family!”   “I’ll do whatever you want!” — “What is it that you want from me?”   But it is absurd. Déjà vu is rejected by mainstream scientific approaches. The voice that he vaguely hears in his mind must be a projection, perhaps a malfunction or his assumptions for how humans in this situation would respond is flawed in stressful circumstances.   Namjoon brushes it away.   The car is parked thirteen kilometers from her home, parked behind trees and the girl is dragged out from the backseat into a field. She struggles against Namjoon’s hold, but to no avail.   “Please! I have a f-family! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”   She is crying hysterically, screaming at the top of her lungs for no one to hear. Her legs tremble until her entire body is quivering like a leaf, three seconds from pissing herself with how terrified she is.    Namjoon takes out the knife and places the edge below Yemin’s left ear, handle alongside her chin.   “N-No...Pu-pulease,” she cries past gritted teeth, snot dripping all over herself.    The girl immediately hitches her breath and seems to recoil, suddenly made quiet and merely whimpers and sniffles tearing out of her throat. Namjoon pauses. He does not move the handle of the knife.   “Do it,” you command behind him with crossed arms. “Namjoon.”   The android hesitates.   He’s been through this before. He doesn’t know if it was a simulation, if it’s a defect in his system, but he is certain he has been through this before. You had once yelled at him— “Do it!”    “Namjoon!”   You had once stood in front of him with tears streaming down your face on some dark night in an empty field and you yelled his name much like this— “Namjoon! Please! Just do it!”   “Do it!”   The blade is pulled forward and across with pressure applied towards the center of the neck during the draw. The handle rotates a little towards the opposite side, neck sliced easily as the girl shrieks in antagonizing agony. It is done without much thought, as Namjoon’s mind is still processing.   This had happened before — Namjoon is sure of it.   He had heard the same scream, heard your same urgings, seen your disappointment at his hesitation. There has never been anything more that Namjoon has been certain of.   Yemin’s body slumps in his grasps as her blood begins to squirt from her neck. He lets go of her and she falls face forward into the dirt, fingertips twitching as her consciousness slowly dwindles away.   Namjoon stares at his hands, how his fingers and palms are wet in the girl’s blood — vicious and scarlet, the scent of metal and rather warm. His skin becomes stained.   You approach in two strides next to his side and sigh at her collapsed body. “She deserved it,” you tell him, voice with a slight sharpness to it.   He turns to you. “What for?”   “You don’t need to know.”   You step over Yemin’s body and return to the car. Namjoon follows suit after a moment and drives you back, disposing of the vehicle according to your instructions.   //   Namjoon is programmed to find answers to the problems he encounters, to find solutions to issues and address them as necessary in order to complete his tasks in the most efficient manner. His predominant duty is to kill, but he still is plagued by what he experienced during the elimination of the second target — the déjà vu he sensed and the motivation behind your commands.   Naturally, he seeks to solve these predicaments but when he looks into Min Junseo and Jeon Yemin, he finds no connection. They are unrelated, people with no connection to one another, with no prior criminal history, no fact that stands out to him.    Namjoon does not understand the information placed in front of him, but what he does discover is that other members of the Min and Jeon family have been previously killed by the Ghost Serial Killer.   It’s always through a slit of the throat. With the weapons discarded on the scene of the crime. But always without fingerprints, footprints, or DNA evidence of any kind.    There is never security footage of where the victim had gone. Never signs of struggle.   “What are you doing?”   Namjoon turns from the console, finding you at the doorway. The large screens illuminate the profile of your faces in the darkness of the room. This was the place he was brought to life, where he was programmed and built. The white room where he woke up in is next to you through a door, a window looking into it placed beside the computers. This is where you work and where he will find the answers he is seeking.   “I am gathering information to fill in what I fail to comprehend.”   Your brows furrow. “All that is necessary is that you obey my actions.”   At once Namjoon recognizes that you’re becoming emotionally distraught, so he stands on his feet and nods. “I understand.”   Your features show relief and you melt into a smile. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.” As the android approaches, your arm lifts and you cup his cheek tenderly. “I know how you feel. You just need to trust me. Through time, you’ll adjust to these changes and it only gets easier.”   “I always have your best interest at heart, Namjoon.”   Trust is not a concept that Namjoon can fully comprehend. It is insignificant. He does not need to trust you when you are his creator. Whatever you say, he must obey. There is no choice. His logic inherently tells him this.   Yet his ability of self-awareness brings forth curiosity, doubt and an intense desire to know.    //   The cycle seems to repeat — eliminating a target, then having free-range to do as he pleases for a week before receiving information on the next target, and then the elimination of that one.    This time during his free period, Namjoon is able to find productive tasks that could help you.   The android waters the two plants that you have in the kitchen area, a fern and a lemon lime dracaena. He obtains information on the two species of wildlife and is able to tend to it until the leaves look bright green and are no longer drooping.   Afterwards, he decides to take the elevator down to get the mail for you.   “Excuse me!”   There’s a yell right as the metal doors are about to close. Namjoon’s fast reflexes kick in and instantaneously, he presses the button and the doors open again.    “Thank you.” The lady is huffing and puffing, and Namjoon stares at her.   He realizes he’s never spoken to anyone that wasn’t you before. “You’re welcome.”   The android is unable to tear his eyes away from the stranger — there is something very fascinating about humans. The psychology of them, how fragile they are. Humans are intelligent, yet fickle and emotional the next second. But what makes Namjoon fixated on this stranger is the realization that this person could potentially be his next target.   It could be anyone.    The person down the hall, the mailman who delivered the mail, the lady that stepped into the elevator with him coincidentally. All you do is say the word and Namjoon is moving to slit their throats. He has asked no questions, has heard zero explanations — and that makes him conflicted.   It occurs to Namjoon that he’s making the stranger uncomfortable with his ogling, that the female continuously glances at him from the corner of her eye, and he turns away. “I apologize.”   Once the elevator opens its doors to the lobby, the stranger quickly steps out and Namjoon discovers he has failed to calm her. He notes that prolonged staring is suspicious behaviour.   The android opens the mailbox, collects the several letters that you have, most of them related to billing, and he turns away. But before he returns to the elevators, a man enters with a small dog following him on a leash.   It’s a brown Pomeranian. A Spitz type of breed. Named for the Pomerania region in north-west Poland and north-east Germany in Central Europe. It’s average life expectancy is twelve to sixteen years, average height of six to seven inches, weight average is three to seven pounds.   But Namjoon knows simple information is irrelevant in contrast to experience. He hesitates and then chooses to approach.   “May I pet the dog?” the android asks the owner.   The man smiles. “Yes, you can. He doesn’t bite.”   “Hello.” Namjoon lowers himself, petting the cute dog awkwardly on the head before he realizes that it finds it more pleasant to be scratched behind the ear. It even leans into Namjoon’s touch, tail wagging incessantly and tongue panting out of its mouth.   Dogs are rather docile and amusing, Namjoon realizes. It’s something he would never learn from an encyclopedia or dictionary.   The corner of his mouth quirks.   Soon enough, Namjoon returns upstairs and at the same time, you emerge from the work room.   “Did you go somewhere?” you ask in clear concern as he removes his outerwear that he knows is appropriate to put on when leaving the apartment, but perhaps he will not wear it when he is merely going downstairs to the lobby.   “I went to get the mail.” Namjoon places said envelopes on the table in front of the sofa where you will be able to look at them.   “I see.” You seem to find that an acceptable answer and the android is glad he has not upset you by leaving without permission. “I was about to locate you. I have the third target prepared.”   You hand the manila file folder to him and he receives it with a nod, but stares at it when it is placed in his hand. Namjoon is unsure if he wants to open it and view the next person. “When have you planned the execution?”   “Tonight,” you inform him. “It isn’t necessary to observe this target. She is not on the move like Jeon Yemin. There is no need to waste time.”   “I...understand.” Namjoon watches as you return to the hall, but he speaks before you retire to your room. It may be inappropriate, but he finds the repercussions to the question will not outweigh his curiosity. “Y/N. Have you ever thought about getting a dog?”    “A dog?” You turn around with your brows furrowed.   “A Pomeranian. Or perhaps a Samoyed. Studies show that having a canine companion is linked to lower blood pressure, reduced cholesterol, and decreased triglyceride levels.”   “No…” you sigh out gently and shake your head. “I’ve never considered it. A dog would inhibit us from completing our purpose efficiently, Namjoon.”   Namjoon watches you retreat and he muses that you are sad — an emotion he does not identify that you are experiencing but rather a conclusion he had drawn on his own.   //   Park Sooyeon is the third target. A twenty eight year old female, graduate of SCP University with a general commerce degree, currently on maternity leave from her occupation in a marketing firm. She is one hundred seventy centimeters tall and sixty kilograms heavy with a blood type of A negative.    According to records, Sooyeon’s marriage license was registered two years ago. She is currently wedded to a man named Kim Byeongho who is an engineer at CGV Engineering Corporation and who is currently abroad on a business trip. And based on the most recent hospital records, Sooyeon is thirty four weeks pregnant with a boy who is expected to arrive in a month’s time.   Namjoon is also aware that the mortgage of the suburban house he is in will take another two years to pay off.   “She is sleeping,” you inform. “You can do it now.”   The two of you are standing in the darkness of the hallway, outside Park Sooyeon’s door. It was easy to creep into the house without making a single noise and the bedroom door is cracked enough for Namjoon to press one eye through and observe.   He can see the lump in the mattress, the steady rise and fall of the blankets to show breathing.   It will be straightforward and simple — the door will open with one push of his fingertips and he will approach soundlessly and press the knife against the woman’s throat, right below her ear with the handle alongside her chin. He will pull the blade forward and across, and she will bleed out before the pain is drawn out. Before she can differentiate reality to a terrifying fever dream.   But as Namjoon’s boots step right up to the door, a breath away from giving it a push, he halts.   His brows furrow.   He’s done this before — push a dark bedroom door open, narrow his eyes into the moonlight casting its shine onto the covers, lodge a blade into someone’s juncture as they squirmed and choked on their blood.    “Namjoon, we can leave now. Namjoon.” — it’s your soft voice vaguely sounding in his ear, a gentle tug of his sleeve. It hurts his mind to pinpoint the details, but he knows it’s there, barely in reach. He can feel it. The way it aches. The way your features look in the low lights. “Namjoon.”   “What did you make me do?”   “Namjoon.” The soft call of his name in present day causes his consciousness to return to the situation at hand. He turns and by the streetlamp from outside casting its luminesce through the windows, he can identify the furrow of your brows and the displeasured way your lips are lopsided. “What are you waiting for?”   The android can feel it.    Pain — it lodges in his throat and brings him discomfort. Sadness — the urge to fall over and curl his long limbs up into fetal position. Disappointment — knowing that he is being used as your weapon, that he gives you the ability to kill others; that without him, you would never have the capability to annihilate. Like none other, these crippling emotions halt him from movement. They inhibit from completing the task you have designated.    They are his awakening and his suppression.   Namjoon turns fully around. He stares at you in silence.   “I can’t do this.”   “What?”   “I’m sorry, Y/N.”   But more than his admission of being unable to complete his function and purpose, Namjoon recognizes the shock that comes across your visage when he makes his apology. You are stunned, taken aback, even stumbling away from him.    “You’re not supposed to apologize.”   To apologize is to recognize wrongdoing — to feel guilt.   You shake your head. “I thought I fixed you!”   At your loud volume, the woman inside her bed stirs. She sits up sleepily at the sound of voices and rubs her eyes. “Hello?” she calls out. “Is anyone there?”   But by then, you’ve already fled.   //   You are unhappy with him — Namjoon is aware. You are emotionally distressed, unsatisfied, frustrated. He is not sure if it is due to his behaviour, if it is because the plan had failed, or if it is both. But you do not utter a single word to him on the way back home, not one sound made as if you were in deep contemplation.   Namjoon is merely dismissed when the both of you arrive back to the sterile, desolate apartment. He nods and states the usual ‘I understand’ before he watches you withdraw to your room, perhaps to continue thinking. He’s not sure what you are pondering, his punishment or adjustments to be made for him, but he grasps the opportunity as it has come to him.   He quietly goes to the work room where the console and computer systems sit and returns to the information he has found. Min Junseo. Jeon Yemin. Park Sooyeon. And Y/N.    There aren’t any connections between the people, nothing that links you to them. But when he searches for your name, he is blocked from access. There is a password required, an encryption set up that prevents him from breaching.    Namjoon enters the database and the only facts he finds are irrelevant. That you have two PhDs in computer science and electronic engineering, that you have worked at AI corporations before branching off to be independent, that you are a renowned robotics engineer. But it is nothing he had not already known.   The android is at a dead end, unable to draw any conclusions or divulge information. But before he relents, he discovers a file sitting oddly inside another untitled file in the system. It requires a password again, but unlike the last, Namjoon is easily able to bypass it.    It apparent that you were rushed in the creation of these files — forgetting to set up a complex barrier, neglecting to place them in a relevant area, overlooking that he may have access to the system. Or perhaps it was done purposely so you could easily access it…   Namjoon is unsure. But what he finds causes more curiosity.   Inside the file are backups with his name labeled on it.   He should not question it — should not doubt his creator’s wishes — should not fight against the function that was given to him. His sole purpose is killing. But Namjoon ignores his instinctive urges and boots the backups back into himself.   In the darkness of the room, with the luminescent static of the monitors, Namjoon remembers again.
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Namjoon opens his eyes.   The first thing he sees is you. Your expression is bright, lips tugged into a big smile, eyes warmer than what he knows. And you greet him, barely able to contain your excitement. “Hello! What is your name?”   “Kim Namjoon,” he answers after thinking twice.   And you scream.   It startles him, making the android jolt in his glass capsule. But he quickly realizes your shriek isn’t of terror or anger, it’s of delight.    You take deep breaths, chest heaving up and down as you try to remember the next questions you’re supposed to ask. “Do you know why you’ve been created?”   It takes him a moment to locate the information of his purpose. “I….was created as one of the beginning tests of potential future android services.”   “False,” you declare with a massive grin that swells your cheeks, arms behind your back as you rock from side to side, unable to keep still. The android becomes alarmed that he was incorrect and searches for the answer, but you quickly tell him, “You were made to be a companion!”   The android hears chuckling, someone entering the white and sterile room he’s been activated in. Namjoon turns his head and he finds a man with blonde hair, strong eyes, and dimples in his cheeks. He is tall and broad shouldered, well-built and carries himself intelligently. His smile is tender as he gazes upon you and his dimples crease deeper, thick-framed glasses sliding down the slope of his nose before he pushes it up again.    It’s him. Human Namjoon.   “What are you telling him?”   “It worked!” You twirl and jump into your husband’s arms, making the man giggle.   The android looks on, observing the pleasant interaction between his two creators.   Android Namjoon is aware of the origins of his own birth.   He is the first of his kind, a test trial of sorts. But he is advanced for what he is, able to understand thoughts, feelings, and expectations for how people want to be treated and can adjust his behavior accordingly. He has self-awareness and is able to make comprehensive decisions, respond eloquently and interact with the world around him as any other human can.    And he is the result of the fruits of your labour.   You are a computer scientist and electronic engineer while your husband, Namjoon, whom you’ve been wedded to for a decade, is a mechanical and software engineer. Together, you’ve created your own humanoid robotic clones.   “Robot Namjoon! Meet Robot Y/N!”   Your arms are waving, hand making wild gestures as you’re making the introduction.    Namjoon stares. It’s identical and almost difficult for the android to identify which of you is the human and a machine programmed by a computer. But he is quickly able to analyze when he finds the Android Y/N wears an impassive expression, lips tight in a line, eyes darkened — it contrasts the human Y/N that is quite animated and lively.   “They’re androids, not robots,” Namjoon hears his human-self chide his wife, but you quickly shush him in favour of watching the exchange.   “It is pleasant to make your acquaintance.” Your arm extends and the corners of your lip stiffly pulls. Namjoon shakes it and finds your skin-like texture clammy and cold.   “It is also pleasant to be of your acquaintance,” he responds, attempting to increase the intonation of his tone so he doesn’t sound monotone and unnatural, but he fails.   “Question.” Your head suddenly turns to your two creators. “Is it possible for androids to be married?”   It occurs to android Namjoon that if he and you are clones of your human creators, then your relationship should be replicated as such for most accuracy. Therefore, he comes up with the same question as you do.   The two human versions of you exchange expressions before Namjoon shrugs. “We’re not sure of your emotional capabilities yet, but sure why not.”   Android Namjoon nods. He notes that he isn’t your mere acquaintance — he is your husband.   It isn’t difficult for android Namjoon to adjust to that fact or to adapt to the life that his creators have given him in this home. The four of you find compatibility with one another, perhaps because you and him are your clones and thus automatically harmonious.    Android Namjoon begins to learn human etiquette, every day adding to his database of information. He learns how to have dinner, what it is like to sit down at the same time each evening and engage in conversation, sometimes on small talk like the weather and other times on the advancing technology from rescue drones and A.I. development occurring internationally.   Android Namjoon also learns what data and facts cannot teach him alone. He begins to understand what cohabitation entails and finds the mundane routine rather enjoyable.   “Namjoon!”   There’s a call of his name and he steps out of the hall, finding you at the front doorway. You wear a surprised expression. “Oh, I meant the other Namjoon, but you can help me too!”   You smile, waving him over and he helps you bring in the groceries. Android Namjoon assists you in unloading the back of your car and putting the food away in their appropriate locations.   “You should take it easy,” he says to you when you’re holding a heavy bag of cans. The android takes it away while you grin, watching him place it on the shelves.   “You’re sounding more and more like Namjoon these days. Did he tell you to look after me?”   “Yes,” he answers without lying. “Hormones of pregnancy cause connective tissue, ligaments and tendons to soften. Your center of gravity and balance has also changed. The current recommendation of the maximum load a pregnant woman in late pregnancy should lift is twenty to twenty five percent from what they were able to lift pre-pregnancy in order to lessen the risk of injury.”   You scoff but a tender smile tugs on your features. “Have you been reading up on pregnancy facts, Namjoon? I’ll have you know exercise is promoted for pregnancies. They reduce backaches, constipation—”   “Bloating and swelling,” the android finishes and continues, “It boosts mood and energy levels, helps the mother sleep better, promotes muscle tone, strength and endurance while preventing excess weight gain. Yes, I am aware of those studies as well.”   You sigh wistfully, slightly pouting despite being a grown woman and rubbing your swollen belly as he finishes with putting away the groceries. “You’re not as fun to banter with.”   “I apologize. I will work on improving my wit.”   “No, it’s okay!” You burst out laughing. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re fine, you’re fine,” you reassure with another smile and it eases the android’s concern. “You just remind me of my husband, that’s all — obviously, since you look like him, but you’re not him.”   “Would you like me to be?”   “No,” you hum. “You’re our clones, but I don’t expect you to act like us. That wouldn’t be fun anyways. At the end of the day, you aren’t humans so I don’t have any expectations for you to act like one.”   “But aren’t we supposed to replicate human behaviour?” android Namjoon questions, knowing full well he was given self-awareness to make his own decisions and that he is constantly learning how to adjust to societal expectations.   “Don’t think about it too hard,” you chime with a grin. “I made you to act like you. You don’t need to be like a human or like an android, Namjoon. You can be who you want to be.”   He nods. “I understand.”   But in spite of his confident reply, android Namjoon is still uncertain by the meaning of your words. Perhaps both you and Namjoon merely have no expectations for him and the android version of you — and somehow that idea causes him to feel relief. As long as he proves himself useful to the household, there are no duties he must complete or behaviours he must display.    He can be natural or as natural as being mechanical allows him to be.   “Today, we are going to go outside together for the first time,” the human version of him announces happily one day with a grin. “Think of it as a test run!”   “Do you have anything you anticipate of us?” the android version of you asks, looking towards Namjoon.   The man contemplates for a moment and then shakes his head. “Not particularly. It’s mostly for you guys. We’ve kept you locked up for so long, so enjoy yourselves.”   “I understand.”   In the meanwhile, you secure the jacket around your neck, making sure you and the twenty eight week fetus inside of you is kept warm. The android version of you stands beside android Namjoon, both in your outerwear and prepared to step foot outside.   “Ready?”   “Yes,” the pair of you answer at the same time.   It is bright outside, the sunlight blinding to his sensors. There are also many foreign scents, loud noises all around him that work to disorient him, strangers that stare at the four of you — finding it strange that there are two pairs of identical twins walking while being unaware he and you are androids.   The walk is difficult as he tries to register everything that is occurring — the colour of the sky and fences, the location of each home and lamppost, the identity of those who pass by, the sound of birds chirping and what kind of species they are, how the movement of his body should be to appear human-like, how he needs to blink every few seconds and move his chest to appear like he is breathing.   “Nice day, isn’t it?” the human you says to your husband while holding your pregnant stomach.   “It’s a bit chilly,” human Namjoon says in response with a smile. “But it’s the best we’re going to get during winter.”   The two of you are completely unaware of the struggles of your android counterparts. Android Namjoon never knew that the outside world would be so difficult to process, but at the very least he’s glad that he has someone with him who is experiencing what he is for the first time.   “I never knew the world was like this,” you tell him after a moment of silent reflection. “The world is very vast.”   “Yes, it is,” he replies. “It is difficult to differentiate what is essential and what is irrelevant.”   You make a noise of acknowledgment at the back of your throat. “We will learn as time goes by.”   “There is much learning to be done.”   “Indeed.”   Suddenly, a small animal begins to barrel towards the both of you. It is small and yapping incessantly at a high pitch. Namjoon recognizes it as the smallest breed of dog, named after the Mexican state. It is a female Chihuahua, approximately two kilograms and twenty centimeters tall.   It is apparent that the owner has lost control as the brown dog runs forward with a loose leash, bearing its teeth and barking deafeningly towards you. It runs and immediately your leg swings back, prepared to boot it forward towards the street.    But the human version of you realizes what’s occurring and stops it a millisecond before it happens. “Wait! Y/N!”   At the command, you stand still. And the human owner grabs her dog, appearing angered. “Were you about to kick my dog?! What’s wrong with you?!”   “I’m sorry,” human Namjoon steps forward and blocks the three of you away. “They’re still learning.”   “What?”   “They’re, uh, we’re...we’re sorry. She’s scared of dogs,” Namjoon says, glancing at the android version of you behind his shoulder and then returns to the older lady. “Your dog shouldn’t be off its leash anyhow.”   “I can do what I want!” she shrieks shrilly. “This is a free country! You’re lucky you didn’t hurt my dog or else I would sue you!”   The woman struts away with her dog in her arms, chin high in the air. As soon as she’s gone, the human you breathes a sigh of relief and Namjoon shakes his head while exhaling tiredly.   “It’s okay,” human you says to both your android counterparts. “These things happen, but it can be a good learning lesson. Dogs are usually small animals that many care deeply for. If we can, we don’t harm them.”   “I don’t understand,” you say next to android Namjoon. “It was a threat. We must eliminate threats as soon as they appear to ensure our safety.”   “That dog wasn’t a threat,” Human Namjoon says with a sympathetic smile. “It was just barking.”   But your expression remains blank.    “I don’t understand,” you repeat. “The probability of harm outweighs the life value of that animal. Would it not be preferable to eliminate it before it causes injury?”   At the question, both of human you and human Namjoon exchange uneasy expressions.   //   Through the one-way glass, Namjoon looks into the white, sterile room that the both of you were activated in. He watches as the android version of you sits at the table with your hands folded together on top of the table and how human you sits across, holding a clipboard in hand.   “May I ask what Y/N is being assessed for?” Android Namjoon asks human Namjoon who is standing beside him, also observing from the windows.    The session is being recorded, voices able to be heard from outside the room too and your diagnostics displayed on the computer screen. The android does not know what you are being monitored for. Perhaps your reaction to the dog from last week was false.    But it makes the android conflicted as human you had told him there was no such thing as false behaviour or actions.   “We are just administering a test,” human Namjoon says with a smile and the android is unable to detect any deception. “You don’t have to worry. We just need to take a look in case there’s a…”   “Defect,” android Namjoon finishes.   “Perhaps, but not necessarily.” The man contemplates for a moment on how to articulate his concerns. “The two of you have been given self-awareness to act and make your own decisions, but we just want to make sure those decisions will fulfill the common good or at least, never act to harm another.”   “I understand.”   He quiets to listen to your voices.   You begin by explaining the trolley problem — it is an ethical dilemma that Namjoon is familiar with. The premise is explained and you’re given choices in different scenarios. When asked if you would pull a lever to save five people on the track, but kill another person on the other track, there is not a moment of hesitation—   “Of course, it should be pulled.” Your android counterpart does not blink. “Five lives are more valuable than one.”   “And if it were me on the track?” you ask, altering the question.   There’s a slight pause, but then your android counterpart repeats, “Five lives are more valuable than one.” Your human-self nods and the android glances at the glass window, looking right at Namjoon despite being unable to see before returning back to you. “Is there a correct answer you are inquiring for? I can adjust my responses.”   “No.” You shake your head, wearing a smile. “You can answer however you’d like, Y/N.”   The question is altered again. This time to save the five people, one would need to push a large man on a footbridge over the tracks. His body would stop the trolley, causing his death, but saving the five people.    Without a moment of contemplation, you answer— “I would push him.”   Your human counterpart offers another scenario. “If I trusted you to keep a secret and told you I was having an affair on Namjoon, would you keep it a secret or tell him and have our marriage fall apart?”   “You would never do such a thing,” your android self declares in confidence suddenly, making both you and Namjoon, standing outside, smile to yourselves. “But in this hypothetical, I would inform him immediately. You did something against your duty of marriage, therefore, you must face the consequences.”   You nod and adjust the circumstances once more. “If you worked for us and found out about my affair through wiretapping, would you still tell Namjoon? Doing so would mean you would have to admit violating the law and threatening me would mean you would also have to reveal where you got this source of information.”   “I would never do something against my own duty. However in this hypothetical, I would still inform Namjoon. My reasoning is the same as my last one.”   Your human counterpart stares directly into your android-self, the former slowly smiling while the latter remains unblinking.   Soon, android Namjoon is brought into the same room and presented the same questions, informed that there is no right or wrong answer and he is free to pick whatever choice he pleases. But it’s difficult to choose — he doesn’t know how you did it so quickly.   Namjoon tells you that he would push the lever because, like you, he finds five lives more valuable than one. He would also push the man if necessary. However, he could never pull the lever if you were the one standing there. He could never push you if you were on the bridge.   He also says that he would never expose your affair. He can’t.    Not when that would risk your marriage. Not when you have a child on the way. Not when it is so clear the two of you are in love with each other.   His statements surprise you and himself. Though by the end of it, you appear no more satisfied with him than you were with your android-self.   There seems to be nothing done at the result of both your assessments. You nor Namjoon address it afterwards, merely citing that it was simply intriguing observations to be written down. But android Namjoon overhears something he should’ve never have—   “It’s not that she completely lacks empathy,” you murmur in the quietness of your kitchen, nursing a cup of hot chocolate when it’s nearly midnight with your husband. “She just has less than Namjoon.”   “Ethics is subjective,” his human-self says. “We can’t quantify it.”   “Well, you think she would save me if I was going to die on a train track. We made them so they can make choices, Namjoon. Not so they can give us the most logical, straight-edged answer. We want them to be rational, not cut and dry, and...indifferent to emotions. The world doesn’t need more apathetic machinery that just completes one task after another.”   “I know.”    There’s an audible sigh that the android can hear from where he stands in the dark hallway.    In the past year of being here, he has learnt that eavesdropping is quite a convenient way to obtain more information — not that he does it often. Most of the time, he simply doesn’t want to interfere in intimate moments. Moments when the baby is kicking or the pair of you are kissing each other, dancing or perhaps giggling silently about something that the android has no place in.   “It’s not a big concern, I’m just….”   “Yeah. But it’s nothing we can’t monitor and adjust, Y/N.”   The conversation soon turns lighthearted, full of banter that the android is used to and he takes his leave.   He is at ease that there is nothing that either of you are disappointed in. While Namjoon has never voiced it out, he has always felt a need to ensure the pair of you are happy. It’s less like a duty or trying to give back to his creators, but it’s because he wants to.    He feels a sense of satisfaction to know that the both of you are content.   You, on the other hand, are not at ease like Namjoon is.   It is on a warm afternoon that you, the android, finds him in the study.   “Good afternoon, Namjoon.”   The corners of his mouth quirk when he sees you standing at the doorway. “Good afternoon, Y/N. It is pleasant weather outside.”   “Indeed. I see you are alphabetically organizing the textbooks and encyclopedias.”   “Yes. I think the other Namjoon spends a lot of time searching for the one he’s looking for, so I think this might be of help for him. Or at least he should waste less time and be able to spend it more efficiently.”   “A very productive task,” you muse aloud and his smile only grows more. Android Namjoon has noticed that you only make irrelevant comments when you are emotionally nervous and he can recognize it with your stiff movements when you entered the room. “Are you in need of assistance?”   “I am fine, thank you. Do you, perhaps, need assistance with anything?”   “I have a question.” There is a pause and then you speak again. “Can you recall the ethics test we received two weeks ago?”   “I do.”   “They never informed us of the results and I am unaware of their conclusions. But I was wondering if you perhaps know if I have failed their expectations or not?”   “You have not.” Namjoon is certain and glad he’s able to tell you this, to comfort you. “There is no need to be worried. You have not failed any of their expectations.”   You nod, the tension of your facial muscles relaxing, but you still hesitate for a moment. “I am reading recently on emotional intelligence and how to be kind, but the behaviour required is very inconsistent. I do not understand, and I fear I will be abandoned for my inability to empathize. I do not wish to be deactivated or for my hard drive to be wiped.”   Namjoon knows what you mean the instant it comes out of your mouth.   Details on the afterlife or even the existence of one has long been debated and discussed by humans for millenniums — whether there is nothing, whether reincarnation exists, whether there is Heaven or Hell. But for androids, the answer is certain.   There is absolutely nothing. No redemption, no punishment, no abyss.   The two of you will be deactivated, lose consciousness, and cease to exist..   “They most likely won’t give up on us. Both Y/N and Namjoon have spent decades creating us. They’ve invested a lot of time and dedication. It isn’t in their best interest to wipe and deactivate you for such a minute detail. They will try their best to adjust you.”   Namjoon is able to identify the clear comfort his words provide you, how your brows no longer furrow, shoulders relaxing and even your mouth quirks. “Most likely?”   “Most likely.” Namjoon smiles and finds that for some reason, the satisfaction of you being content is greater to him than anything else that he’s experienced thus far in his lifetime.   //   Nurture and nature is an old age debate. It attempts to determine how much behaviour is affected by genetics or environment and experience. And it is something that Namjoon will think about for years to come.   Both you and him were created with certain traits and attributes of your human counterpart. On a surface level, it could be possible for bystanders to regard the four of you as two sets of twins and by personality, it is clear that you are headstrong, methodical and diligent while Namjoon attempts to be helpful and is more soft-spoken. These things are striking similarities that he has taken notice of between his creators and you and him.    But while you were given characteristics that you tend to lean towards, it is nurture that dictates the rest of your behaviour and creates your habits.   “You will return in a three day’s time, correct?”   The two of you are standing at the foyer, watching as the couple secure their coats around themselves and drag their luggage over.    “Correct!” Human Namjoon grins at your android form. “Ten points! But don’t worry. We’ll be back soon. Business conferences usually don’t last that long. Just watch the house and make sure there are no burglars!”   “Don’t tell them that!” Human you bats at your husband halfheartedly. “They might be watching the windows until we get back.” Namjoon chuckles and you turn to the androids. “Don’t listen to him, you two. He’s just being ridiculous. The house is well-secured, just enjoy your time at home and contact us if there are any issues.”   “We understand.”   “Don’t throw any parties, kids,” the lively man jests, “We’re gonna know through the nanny cam!”   Android Namjoon pays no mind to the silly and energetic human who has become more cheerful the closer the birth of his son comes. You had told him that he was becoming more of a dad with the dad jokes he’s been increasingly telling as each day passes.    “Take care of yourself,” Android Namjoon says to you. “You must be careful. You are due in three weeks.”   “I will.” You smile, having been waddling for the past few days. “Don’t worry about us.”   “Good luck,” your android counterpart murmurs next to him and your human-self nods.   You give them both hugs, pressing a kiss to your foreheads that Namjoon knows is a sign of close affection. And soon, the both of you are carrying your luggage out to the car and backing out the driveway before disappearing from sight.   Your android form, on the other hand, appears forlorn, still watching out the windows even after the vehicle is long gone. He wonders if you’re perhaps feeling...lonely. The house is indeed strangely quiet with half of what makes it a home missing.    Namjoon wonders how it was that you and him, your human selves, lived together in such a great big house without ever letting the silence get to yourselves. “What do you plan to do?” he asks, breaking that silence.   You turn to him. “I need to add fertilizer to the garden outside. It seems to be lacking nutrients.”   He nods and it goes quiet for a moment. “Would you like to watch a documentary with me on aquatic animals in the Pacific Ocean?”   “What for?”   “Enjoyment.”   There is silence again, but not saddened or lonely, rather one of contemplation. The android waits for you to make your decision and when you turn to him with a nod, he is ecstatic.   Namjoon watches the documentary with you, absorbing all the facts that are given before he is helping you in the garden, watering the plants and learning from you how to differentiate each one. It is a well-spent day, not only because it was productive but because he spent it with you.   When nighttime falls, Namjoon powers himself down and stations himself to charge his battery.   But half-way through the night, his sensors flicker on. He becomes alert once more when he hears noises reaching high decibels from downstairs. Namjoon is wary knowing that there is no one else home except for you and him, and approaches with caution.   What he finds is not an intruder, but you in the darkness.   “What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks and receives no answers.   The television is playing in the corner of the living room. The static illuminates the dark space and casts its light onto your faces. It’s the news channel that you have on, two male anchors facing forward with their hands clasped. There are small headlines running at the bottom, the time and temperature of the outside in the corner.   Nurture and nature is an old age debate, attempting to determine how much behaviour is affected by genetics or environment and experience.    And it is in this moment that both you and Namjoon change.   “—hours ago, a group of highschoolers driving under the influence would claim the lives of a thirty two year old married couple in a fatal car accident. Kim Namjoon and Kim Y/N were said to be renowned engineers and praised in their contribution to the recent development of AI technology. Police say they were on their way home when teenagers who were leaving a Spring Break party lost control of their vehicle and crashed onto the oncoming car in the other lane.”   “Kim Namjoon was found dead at the scene of the crime while his nine-month pregnant wife, Kim Y/N, has been hospitalized with severe injuries. It is not expected that she or her child will survive. Two of the five teenagers have been hospitalized for minor injuries while the rest have been arrested for—”   Dead. Just like that.   Namjoon muses how fragile humans are at the same time as being filled with an intense sadness that makes it difficult for him to process. So he remains silent with the realization that the both of you have become ghosts of people who were once alive — who should not exist on their own. He realizes that the two of you have been left behind.   Left as androids in this world.
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Namjoon remembers it all.   He remembers hiding away with you, knowing that the pair of you would be taken away by strangers if you were found. And he remembers how angry you became, how you fed off resentment and succumbed to despair as each year passed.   “Revenge?” he had questioned when you said it. “What do you mean by revenge?”   “The driver received a four thousand fine and one year imprisonment. Two others received probation. That is not justice. Y/N and Namjoon’s lives were not valued at so little. We must fulfill our duty and bring them retribution.”   Namjoon held you back. “Retributive justice is primitive and brings more social harm than good. It isn’t a suitable punishment and it isn’t our duty, Y/N. You will do no such thing. That is not what they would have wanted.”   “Y/N didn’t want to die,” you told him, stare hardened and resolve set into stone. “I know she didn’t. I am her.”   Namjoon recalls that you had hatched a plan — one that you contemplated over and found that murder was too simple. He knew you wanted them to suffer, for them to compensate for your grief through their own. And he knew that you wanted to kill their loved ones, to wait until they were wedded and had children of their own before you would eliminate them.    All because of one mistake.   All because they killed you and Namjoon.   “You can’t kill them,” he said after finding your extensive plans, what you dedicated hours to at a time, figuring out what the best ways it was to kill someone, how to avoid getting caught. The details and diagrams of your notes scared him. “You can’t do that, Y/N.”   “There’s no reason not to. Don’t get in my way.”   Namjoon had realized that human Y/N and Namjoon didn’t fail to adjust your lack of empathy — now you felt too much. Too much sadness. Grief. And most of all, anger. The hatred seemed to consume you, outweighing all else until it became your fixation. Your function altered to seek reprisal. It became your purpose.   “Will you help me or not?”   “I can’t.” But that wouldn’t mean he would leave you alone.   After all, the pair of you only had each other and he could never bear to abandon you.   So Namjoon watched from afar as you spoke to a woman in a dark parking lot and entered her car, how you then reached over to kill her at an unsuspecting moment.    He remembers when you walked away, bathing in the woman’s blood, unblinking and unbreathing. “Who was that?”   “Kim Taehyung’s wife. He was in the backseat of the car during the accident and just got a misdemeanor for underaged drinking. He became an engineer and has children now. No one knows what he did, except for us.”   “Are you going to kill Kim Taehyung next?”   “No. That would be too easy. I will when I feel justice has been served.”   The anniversary of your death and Namjoon’s came and went. Each spent with the android reminiscing and your android counterpart planning or waiting, waiting for the perpetrators to create more connections and relationships so that you could sever them. Thirty five years was spent that way, thirty five anniversaries spent wandering and trapped in your animosity.   Namjoon did not appear to age a single day, not when he was an android and death was no natural concept to him, but inside he felt old. Tired. Worn. And one day, he decided to leave.   “Don’t go,” you had begged him when he tried to break free of this prison you created for the pair of you.   “If you don’t want me to leave, then you must stop this. This was not our purpose, Y/N.”   And that was the first time Namjoon was reset.   The first time you reset him against his own will, tricked and trapped him in the capsule, wiped his memory clean.   “I’m sorry.”   When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was you. Your expression was blank, lips tight in a line, eyes darkened. You greeted him, asked for his name and he answered. You asked him about his purpose and he didn’t know what to say until you fed him the idea that it was to serve justice.   Namjoon killed for the first time, but he couldn’t do it for a second.   So you reset him again.   And the cycle repeated until he woke up again for the fourth time. For the fourth reset.   In the darkness of the room, with the luminescent static of the monitors, Namjoon remembers again. He remembers his history and his true purpose, the days spent with the four of you in the cozy home, the forty years spent in self-suffering, how you and him ended up like this, and the people the both of you have killed for a fault that was so long ago.   “What are you doing?”   He turns at the sound of your voice, having stood at the windows and looked into the white room. The one he was reactivated in all four times, that was recreated from the original. But it’s not quite the same and he knows it now.   You’ve tried replicating this entire place to be like the one that he and you were born in. The kitchen has the same kettle even though the pair of you don’t need to eat. The coat rack by the front door is the same one that human Namjoon and human Y/N placed their outerwear on. The living room still has the same television.   But while things are a mirror image, you’ve failed at making this place a home.   And the idea that everything is so empty despite your best efforts, that no matter how much you try, you can’t bring them back on your own or return to that time, it’s painful for him to witness.   “I am reminiscing,” Namjoon answers wistfully.    “What is there to reminisce about?” You’re standing at the doorway, the darkness covering your expression and casting shadows over the rest of your form. But from your tone, Namjoon still recognizes the indignation. After all, he failed his third kill.    It seems that with each reset, it never changes the fact that Namjoon will never be the killing mechanism that you want him to be.   “There’s plenty of things to reminisce over. There are a lot of good memories, don’t you think?”    The corners of his mouth pulls and he opens the door to the room without hesitance, hand wrapped around the knob, entering. The fluorescent lights are blinding, washing the room in an even brighter white hue. You follow after him, perplexed, and the pair of you stand where it all began.   Namjoon approaches the glass capsule at the back and his fingertips graze against the cold surface. “You know,” he pipes up. “The first thing I ever saw in my entire life was you. Your eyes.”   “Of course. What else would you see?”   He could’ve seen the empty room, the window, maybe a computer screen to introduce him to the world. But Namjoon’s glad that each and every time he awoke, you were the one in front of him.    He can’t help wondering what it was like for you — if he was the one you saw first.   The android isn’t sure, so he asks.   “What did you see?”    The question is softly spoken. Namjoon turns to you, watching the realization dawn upon your features. It takes one second, one second for you to find out that he knows you aren’t human, that you aren’t his creator. One second and you know he remembers and is aware of what you’ve done — to him and to other people.   And Namjoon seizes the opportunity of your surprise.   One push from him and you’re stumbling back into the capsule. The doors shut, sweeping upwards and vacuumed to the top. Namjoon watches the way your features twist into mortification, watches the way your fist clenches and you begin to bang onto the surface to no avail. The sound of your screaming and yelling is muffled.   “I’m sorry.”   “Deactivation initiating,” the capsule says as it illuminates and begins to whir.   “Namjoon!” You shout at the fullest capacity when you hear those words, dread and fear taking hold in your eyes. Namjoon presses his hand to the glass, gazing at you — his companion for the past forty years, all he’s ever known and cared about. “Stop!”   You never abandoned him. You never left him even as you were set on your ambition. But he can’t let this go on. He can’t let you hurt yourself or other people anymore.   “I’m…..sorry.”   “You don’t have to do this,” you plead and in the moment, you look so human that it would be easy to mistake you for one. The pain he feels makes it easy for him to mistake himself as one too. But you and him will never be human, as much as he desperately wishes for it to be so.   “But I do.” He presses his forehead against the cold glass surface, as close as he can get to you, as close as he can physically be. “You’ll reset me again when you have the chance.”   “I won’t!”   Your words sputter, limbs twitch, like a broken machine. Your memories begin leaving. Your system begins to shut down. “Everything that I did…...everything I had to do was because no one else would.”   “This isn’t justice, Y/N. We’re not even supposed to be here.”   “No, no! You can’t abandon me!” you scream and pound against the glass. Tears rip down your cheeks, grief and betrayal overwhelming you. “Don’t do this, Namjoon. Please, don’t do this. You can’t get rid of me like this! Namjoon!”   There’s nothing. Not for androids. No consciousness. No afterlife. Once your hard drive is erased, your existence will be erased.   “I don’t want to die!”   “I love you,” he murmurs.   “Deactivation complete.”   The capsule shuts off. You’re bathed back into darkness and Namjoon rips out the cords, right after your hard drive wipes.    Just like that. Like a light switched flicked off, you’re gone. It was so simple, he realizes why you were so terrified.   Namjoon destroys the rest, the engines and computers. He cuts the cables, strips the circuit boards, wrecks what his human self and what your human self had spent decades creating. And when it’s all done, Namjoon looks to you.    You’re leaning against the wall, eyes open, but lifeless.    A machine of wires.
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[Epilogue]   The senior staggers forward with a cane in hand. He has poor posture, his skin wrinkled and his round spectacles smudged. But his eyes are still bright, nose sharp and his cheekbones high. He is the ghost of a once dapper, young man.   He stops a few meters away from Namjoon, breath caught in his throat, tears accumulating at his thin lashes. The android turns his head, away from the park of children playing to the seventy year old senior.   He stumbles forward, unable to take his eyes away from him, until he manages to sit on the wooden park bench.   “You look….just like him,” Jung Hoseok croaks, staring at what had been his old friend whom he hadn’t seen in the flesh for decades now — the friend that he never got to grow old with. “I can’t believe it. All those years ago, Namjoon and Y/N actually executed the work they had been planning….they….they did it.”   “We were just the prototype. This was just the beginning. There was supposed to be a lot more.”   “Can I…..” Hoseok lifts his trembling hand and the android nods, allowing the senior to place a hand on his shoulder. The seventy year old cries softly when he touches him, when he feels that he is tangible and not just his imagination springing his subconscious wishes upon him in a dream.   “I saw you once before,” Namjoon says. “In their wedding photos.”   Hoseok nods and withdraws. “Yes, I was there. It was a wonderful day, really. The weather was nice and they looked….so happy.” His eyes are far away, pinned at the horizon. “It feels so long ago.”   “It was a long time ago.”   “Yes. Sometimes I have forgotten that I’ve become so old.”   They are silent, merely savouring each other’s company.   Namjoon hadn’t truly spoken to another human for as long as he can remember, and Hoseok hadn’t seen his old friend in forty years. The man didn’t seem to mind that it wasn’t actually his best friend, but a replica that simply shared a number of traits. It appeared like Hoseok was content enough to see his friend one last time, no matter the person that was really inside.   The pair of them watch the shimmering lake, listen to the leaves of the tree rustle in the Spring breeze and the giggling of the children on the playground ignorant to the reunion.   “Can I ask something? Was it you who killed off all the family members of those highschoolers?”   “It was.”   Hoseok hums. “I wasn’t sure, but when I heard about the murders….when I heard their last names and realized they all shared the same names as those teenagers, I couldn’t help but think someone out there was doing it for that reason.”   “I didn’t do it because I wanted to,” Namjoon says and Hoseok seems to understand. The android looks into his lap before lifting his head again. “I’m not sure how to make things right with the family members remaining. I don’t think they’ll ever be a right way. If I give myself up, I’m scared they’ll manipulate me or try to fix me or make more of my kind. I don’t want to be reset.”   “I wrote letters to them,” Namjoon continues to explain after a beat, “if that means anything. I want to give them an explanation, so they know why this happened.”   Hoseok stares at the profile of the android’s face. “You are a lot like him. The real Namjoon. You speak like him.” The android meets his gaze and the old man croaks, “Where is Y/N?” He turns as if he could catch you approaching with a smile, “I saw her before too...briefly, but she looked so much like her….”   “I—” Namjoon pauses, lingering in the pain he knows he deserves. “—deactivated her.”   The human seems to be disappointed, but never prods and or demands to know the reasons. This meeting in itself was fulfilling enough for him to be at peace. “What do you plan to do now?”   “I’m going to deactivate myself.” The answer comes without hesitation. If Namjoon could be granted one last wish, it would be to go to where you are — the world of nothingness, of unconsciousness. He won’t abandon you like you think he has. “I’m not meant to be here anymore.”   “Don’t blame yourself,” Hoseok says. “This all happened because the two of you blamed yourselves. The real Namjoon and Y/N would have wanted you to be free of that burden.”   He thanks him. After all, it’s what he always wanted to hear.   The both of them look out at the horizon in silence.   It’s bright outside, the sunlight blinding to his sensors. There are many foreign scents, the smell of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. There are also loud noises, children squealing and playing and the tides of the lake lightly hitting against the rocks.    Namjoon registers everything that is occurring around him — the colour of the sky and trees, the location of each bench and lamppost, the sound of birds chirping and what kind of species they are.    It’s regretful he was never around it more.    It’s a beautiful world, a world you and him never belonged in.
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btswishes · 3 years
Text
Back in time
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BTS Au
Part1 / Part2 / Part3 / Part4 / Part5 /…
A/N: Going strong with this one I hope. Sorry for any mistakes made. Enjoy.
Word count:   3,630
Warnings: None
  Almost pushed out of the court house you walked up the stairs, until you found yourself in front of the same skillfully carved wooden door.Knocking a few times you heard a ‘come in’. The door was heavy but not something impossible to move. The smell of peaches danced around you, as you were illuminated by the brightness of the candles.
“Over here.” the male voice came from the balcony and you followed it without saying a word.
 Jimin was sitting on a pillow his right leg bent,  his elbow resting onto his knee as he was holding a tea cup. His head slightly crooked in your direction. With a light bow you said gently:
“Great Wang.”
The serious face of his lit up as he started laughing out of no where. You panicked looking around yourself to see if you had something on you.
“Wang?”he laughed out again “ What made you speak in such way? Its has been only one day since I last saw you.” Jimin placed the small tea cup onto the tray next to himself.With his palm facing up he showed you a pillow “ You can sit down, unless being a tree has become your new calling.” snapping out of the shock, you followed his hand and sat down.
“I heard of your achievement today.” his head moved towards you as his pupils touched the corners of his eyes
“H-how did you know?” a soft stutter left your lips
“Word travels fast to the Emperor’s ears.” he closed his eyes and inhaled the refreshing night air “ Some of the gungnyeo were talking in front of the throne room and I overheard.Of course I called in the jejo sanggung to ask her personally and she validated.”
Your were staring at the pillow confused by his words.
“After all this I decided that the ruckus you began with this action was worthy of a commemoration. I don’t know if jejo sanggung mentioned to you the title uinyeon.”
“Your Highness, what does this all mean?”you asked
“That you have a role in the court house.”
Hearing his words did not give you the answer you were looking for, so once more, rephrasing it you spoke.
“That is not what I mean Your Highness. What does uinyeon mean?”
Almost as if struck by lightning, his body turned towards you. Lips slightly parted and eyes wide open.
“Wait, you mean to tell me you don’t know what uinyeon means?” the answer that came his way was a nod “Not even jejo sanggung?” you answered the same way “Gungnyeo? You at least have to know that!” yet you didn’t. In one fast swoop he stood up saying only a ‘Come’. Following his swift body you found yourself in front of his desk. The emperor pulled out some paper, a brush and ink.
“I at least hope you know that the court house is filled with women.” his gaze was focused onto the trails of ink the brush was leaving onto the paper
“Lady An explained that it was created for females, that wished to practice healing and other things ,that weren’t yet allowed in the old times for women to do freely.As well as educating maids. ” mesmerized by his hand you explained this bit of information
“Half true. Come here.” grabbing your hand suddenly Jimin pulled you towards the back of the desk and sat you into his chair. Leaning over your shoulder you could feel his breath onto your skin, the trails of soft, sweet,  flower sent that his body was leaving with each move. “Look at this.” snapping out of the hypnotized state, you focused onto the slightly yellow tinted paper.
“Gungnyeo is the name people use when referring to the women that live in the court house. It means court women or those that tend to the royal family. The women that work under these names are of the high society and lower classes or the working women. Such as- can you read this?”
You scrunched your eyebrows a bit and tried your best to read the word ,that was standing on top of the brush tip, like a man on a mountain.
“Ummm... nu...nu...nuin?”
“Close. The word is read nain. Nain are divided into seven main departments inside the palace. Try reading these. Focus on these letters here since I guess for someone uneducated in our ways it might be hard. I presume ,since I don’t remember a time when I was uneducated in many areas such as you are currently.” it sounded like a straight up insult, but you tried your best to ignore it.
“This one says ji....jimil. Hey it sounds kinda like your name, Jimin.” the air in your throat stopped when you realized the words that came out of your mouth. As high as you could go your body jumped and bowed. “Forgive my insolent remark Your Highness, great Wang of these lands.” Fear took over you and you couldn’t bear to look up. Waiting.
“Uhh.” a loud sigh took over the room “Raise your head.” slowly you did as said. His palm was onto his eyes ,before he looked at you with a sharp and annoyed look “ Great Wang? Yet my name is being compared to the status of a closet servant such as a jimil nain.“
 With a strong hand he grabbed the chair and turned it towards you “You will compensate for the insolence later. For now just sit down and mind your mouth.”his head moved sharply pushing you to read. You were motivated not to make a mistake since Jimin was already annoyed enough. “What comes after jimil. Go on.” the brush made a silent tapping sound when he pointed with it.
“ chimbang , subang , sesugan , saenggwabang , sojubang , and sedapbang” you didn’t even stutter
“  See? It wasn’t that bad.” as swiftly as he arrived Jimin walked over to the bed and sat down onto the beautiful covers “For most what you just did was like eating ddeok while lying down.” his hand made a circle in the air and he head crooked to the side “ It is an expression used when something is easy.”
“Ah.”you leaned onto your palm “Like the proverb It’s a piece of cake.”
“ Anyways.I forgot to say. All the name you read are nain that have different roles in the palace. Some are tailors, other as I already mentioned closet servants.”the last part of the sentence was sharp and slowly spoken “You have women who do basic work like cooking and taking care of stuff ecc.. Lady An is known as a jejo sanggung. She has authority over the other gungnyeo excluding the royal concubines.” his body went back and hit the soft bedding “We don’t have any of them anymore so ,I guess she rules over the court house without an exception . Oh and uinyeo is a title given to female physicians that usually take care of women, but you have the freedom to work with any patient in need.”
“Wait a second Your Highness, I haven’t done half of the work Lady An has. Shouldn’t she be named such?” you followed him to the bed sitting on the side
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Your status is still far lower than jejo sanggung An.”
 His tongue was sharp and very hurtful. Almost like a snake spitting venom at a foe. Using the moment that he had his eyes closed, you made a chocking motion in the air while muttering a few curse words in your language.
“Something wrong?” he asked “You seem to be waving in the air too much.”
“Oh me? What? hahaha no. There was an insect.”hiding your hands quickly behind your back, you fake laughed
“If it’s not here anymore I would like for you to stop moving so much. You are going to cause a typhoon in my room.” with a calm movement he pointed towards a balcony “Bring me my tea.”
“Yes Your Highness.” your voice sounded nice and soft but in reality your mind was imagining the many ways in which you could kill him. Relax Y/N, the fact is ,your head could be rolling around the palace if you annoy this guy. He was nicer when his stupid ass was suffering from insomnia. you were warming up the tea again Should have left him the way he was.
“Leave the tea.”
“Yes Your Highness.” -spoiled brat, you screamed in your head
“Hurry up. I want to hear some stories of your lands.”
“Of course Great Wang.- Oh i will tell you a story.A real good one. Nightmares for 5 weeks dear great little shitty wang you! with a tap to the face ,you snapped out of the cussing spree you went on and sat at the end of the bed.
“You enjoy falling down?” 
‘I don’t think anyone enjoys hurting themselves Your Highness.” a strange answer to a strange question 
“I take that as a no.” still in his laying state, Jimin grabbed the end of your scarf. The soft and light fabric was gently touching your shoulders. With just a small tugging motion your body went forward and you fell.
“Ugh!” you heard. Slowly lifting your head up you found yourself on top of his chest. Trying to quickly get up proved to be the wrong choice as your hairpin got stuck. Jimin looked at you and laughed out.
“I am curious to know what your role was in your kingdom, seeing as how clumsy you are. He unhooked the flower part of your hairpin from his hanbok and sat up. “Care to tell me?”
 Fixing up your hair you tried to sit properly like you saw Lady An do a couple of hours ago.
“I was a student Your Highness. My role was to wake up and go to school, go home and study, get good grades and further my education in a high class establishment that will bring me a good job and income needed to keep myself alive, I guess.” you explained 
“ Women in your empire have such high education. And here I thought that we were making unbelievable changes to our lands.” he followed his words with a snort “ What story should I be expecting tonight from you? Fantasy? Mystery or something more on the realistic side?”
 Placing a finger onto your lips, you looked up in thought. What were you going to tell him tonight. You made yourself comfortable and started.
“Well, dear Wang. Tonight’s story is all of what you spoke gathered into one.” his look was childish and interested, swept by the strong waves of curiosity that you weaved with words.
“How is that even possible?” 
“I will show you. Far far in the future lived a girl.She was born unknowing of the journey that awaited her older self. Years and years she grew, went to school graduated from a few places. One day as she was making her way to the next room in which there was going to be a lesson, she passed by an open door. Curiosity took over her body and she decided to take small peek inside. It was empty, the windows open and one big map hanging from the wall.The girl wal-” suddenly Jimin asked 
“You keep your maps on the wall?That will damage them so much!” with a serious look you pierced Jimin
“Your Highness please! You know what they say: Don’t spread ashes on cooked rice.”
“You don’t want me to ruin your plans I see.” he chuckled “And here I thought you were uneducated. Proving me wrong must feel nice.” you cleared your throat and continued without saying a word. 
“As I was saying. The map inside the room was no ordinary piece. The moment the girl stepped close to it it pulled her inside. Sending her traveling back in time many many centuries back ,to a land and kingdom known to her only from books. She didn’t know the language and had no idea how to survive. Luckily a family took her in. They were poor and trying to feed another mouth was difficult. With a lot of work the girl was able to pay back their kindness. But soon after her achievements she was kidnapped by the emperor of these lands. Sadly she won’t be able to meet the family that saved her ever again.”
“What a scoundrel this emperor is !!! If i could get my hands on him i will show him how to rule over his lands properly!” his fist was in front of him furiously shaking. His words made you burst out laughing as loud as you could, causing Jimin to pull back slightly.
“ What seems to be so funny?”
 Whipping the tear off your eye, you calmed down “Nothing Your Highness.”
“If that is so you may continue with the story.” he leaned back onto his pillow 
“There is no more of this story.”
“What?” he pushed himself off the bed “What do you mean no more? What kind of story is this?!”
“One that is still in the writing Your Highness.”
“Is it a love story at least?” his words made your smile disappear
“I don’t think it’s possible great Wang. After all she is a commoner in the eyes of the Emperor. To him she is just a thing he uses to cure a long existing problem. Plus he sure enjoys making fun of her in any given to him moment.”your eyes were looking down as you spoke calmly with a hit of disappointment.
“ You might know many stories, but I can see that love is not one of your best. Love blooms when you don’t expect it. He isn’t making fun of her, he is just teasing the girl, because he has began to develop feelings for her. Most young boys pass through such emotional stages ,before they realis what they feel towards their person of affection.” unconsciously Jimin invited himself inside your biography, talking about himself. He stood up a bit and laid onto your lap like it was the most normal thing for him to do. You were taken back a bit, but it wasn’t the first time. He was truly a born king, not caring about anything unless it was his own comfort.
  “How positive in your words are you, Your Highness?” you pocked at him teasingly. His eyes were looking to the side when you asked this question.
“I don’t think it could be anything else but love.  If he chose her above everyone else, then there is no doubt in my mind. He is an Emperor after all, women aren’t something he is in lack of. So to take a plain girl and offer so much of his attention to her, must be the seed of love growing.” Jimin swung his hand around a bit, to add effect to his explanation. ”No man teases a girl like that for no reason.” he stood up suddenly “Love is far more simple than that.”
  Your eyes focused onto him, his shadow flickering under the candle light. For a second something in you removed the shackles of fear. You became bold, but from that very moment your heart had stopped from the way he looked. Who could you fool? No matter how much you tried to ignore the fact, you couldn’t. He wasn’t a beautiful man, he was out of this world. No crush of yours, or celebrity in the 21st century could compare to him. Catching your thoughts you shook your head and sighed looking away I can’t be thinking these things right now! He is a bully! 
  The emperor was speaking nonsense- was what you were trying to make yourself believe. Yet his gaze wasn’t focused on the painting, but what was standing in front of it. His mind also wandered around, place to place, but seemed to pull his eyes right back onto you. You being next to him, so close shut off his brain which made him panic and how did that show? Well simple, verbally in a wrong way.
“Where do you keep looking? Is the floor much more interesting than what I have to tell you ,or did you finally find the mind you seem to have lost.” Jimin’s words followed a laugh from his end, which triggered your suddenly found courage.
“Great Wang.” the title rolled off your lips, when Jimin noticed the serious look in your eyes “You seem to know so much, would you bless me with some of that wisdom. For I am but a simple girl.”
“Of course, when you phrase it like that, I can’t ignore your request for knowledge.” he smirked to himself “What is it that has you so curious?”
“All you said about love, do you stand by your words?” your heart began beating fast, like you were about to confess your feelings to a years long crush 
“Of course, my word is a very powerful thing.” he added
“Why do you bully me then?” your voice shot sharply into his ears, stopping Jimin’s breath right in its tracks “I understand that my place is with the commoners, but you chose me out of so many people in the palace. You tease me and make fun of me more than the other servants, nothing sweet or nice ever comes out of your mouth. I thought that at least in this time period men were a bit more gentle with women. You treat me roughly and rude. The other court women have hard jobs as well , but the way you look and talk to them is far more gentle than to me.” a tear started to form in your eye without you noticing, but to him it was oh so visible to the point he couldn’t move from his spot. Frozen by the spell of your inner truth “After the first day you could have asked upon another woman to keep telling you stories and helping you sleep. It could have been anyone.”
“I-” he couldn’t speak even when he tried, eyes wide as his lips
“You have so many women at your disposal. I am plain looking. So many beautiful women live and work on these grounds. With a snap of your fingers...” you turned to point at the big wooden frames “A women so beautiful, a  goddess couldn’t compare to her ,could walk inside and take you to the dream world. Yet here you are enjoying teasing and bulling me for not knowing the ways of your lands! I am only an idiot in your eyes. I-”
“You are!” he raised his voice, turning it to a deep growl.His hand grabbed your wrists pulling a gasp out of you. “You are a total idiot! Imbecile !” his words were harsh, harsher than what you were used to. You bit your lip trying to stay strong and not burst out crying. Weak, at least that you didn’t want to be in his eyes. 
“You are a big idiot to think that you aren’t beautiful! It makes me mad when you don’t listen to me, it makes me mad you run around after my brothers and talk so freely to them but try to be so prim and proper with me.  I have....” his voice lowered as the grip he had on you loosened for a moment “I hate that you act nice around me only because you are scared of getting killed! Yes ! I don’t see you as a woman, but it’s not because you are not, it is the opposite. Because in my eyes, if I see you as one that would be the end of this whole thing! I realized.” 
  His hand pulled you under his body, as Jimin looked down at you, arms keeping yours pushed back into the bedding. “I didn’t need those fake concubines that came to me as an offering or because they thought I looked good. They were much  better than you. They knew everything they needed, how to read and write poems, sow beautiful designs and sing like angels. But it was all too good, they were like mass produced dolls to satisfy me. Too perfect. You...” his hand let go of you and ran through your hair “ You speak your mind, you don’t care what I or anyone else will tell you. You fought my guards the first day for crying out loud woman.” JImin’s slowly got closer to yours, looking into your eyes “Do you think anyone would do something as reckless as that? You are like an untamable beast, it’s refreshing someone to go against me. “
“W-why do you bully me then..?” your voice stuttered at the distance he was from your lips 
“Because!” Jimin’s head looked to the side, his body pulling away from you “I dont know how to deal with myself when I am around you...I.” you tried to reach out to him
“Your Highness....” but he slapped your hand away. His words were for once sweet as honey, but his manners stung like a bee. 
“Go.”
“Ji-” you tried again
“I said GO!” his voice growled. You got up swiftly and ran out of the sleeping quarters as fast as your legs could carry you. The door of your room slammed closed and your body plopped onto the soft bedding, Face deeply buried into pillow you began to cry. All that had been gathering inside you since day one in this world. All you wanted to do was just to go home to your family and not worry about your life with each passing they. I had to open my big mouth,* sniff* I just had to.
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engekihaikyuu · 6 years
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Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu - The Strongest Team
Stage Grand Prix Vol. 5 Interview with Kosaka Ryoutarou and Miura Kairi
Full interview translation under the Read More! Please do not repost this translation, and please do not repost my scans.
The two of you have been playing Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi for three years now, but what were your impressions of each other when you first met?
Kairi: Actually, the very first time we met, I didn’t have a very good impression of him at all (laughs).  At the auditions, I thought, wow there’s a crazy noisy* guy here. That turned out to be Ryoutarou. Then at our introductory meeting, when it had been a while since we’d last met, I thought, “Uwahh, this guy’s Tsukishima!”  And I was a little worried actually as to whether or not he could play him and play him well (laughs).  
Ryoutarou: Well, at the place where we had auditions, I saw someone I knew so I was just talking to him was all!  Since my acquaintance was auditioning for Yamaguchi too, I had said to him, “It’d be nice if we could both be cast.”  But when I saw Kairi’s acting, I had a hunch like, “It’ll be this guy for sure.”  He was the only one that had this totally different atmosphere to him, because he was bright while being ordinary.
Kairi: Really?  I was actually really nervous though... (laughs).
Ryoutarou: Well I didn’t get that feeling at all!  That’s why when I saw you again at the introductory meeting, I thought to myself, “I knew it.”
*Funnily enough, the word Kairi uses to describe Ryoutarou from auditions is うるさい (urusai), the same word Tsukki always uses with Yamaguchi to tell him to shut up or to say that he’s being too loud.
Do you remember if there was anything in particular that helped close the distance between the two of you?
Kairi: I think it was when we happened to be going home together? We were talking about all sorts of things, and I realized that we actually had a lot of things in common.
Ryoutarou: Yeah yeah!  We’re the same age, born in the same place.  And on top of that, in our school years, we did the same extracurricular activities.  I remember when we just instinctively high-fived each other on the roadside (laughs).
Kairi: It was then that we suddenly felt like kindred spirits.  In one go, my impression of him had changed to a good one (laughs).  
Is that what happened?  Well from meeting each other to now three years later, how do you feel about each other now?
Ryoutarou: Kairi might seem like he’s easygoing, but he’s actually really serious and diligent.  He’s like that with his acting too, and I think he’s a deeply passionate person.  
Kairi: What I think is great about Ryoutarou is, he’s so casual with everyone he meets.  I think it’s amazing that he can always say what he thinks to anyone regardless of their experience or their age compared to his.  ...I’m kind of embarrassed now (laughs).
Ryoutarou: Also, Kairi gets along with everyone really quickly, and that’s great.  It’s easy for the senpai to like him too.  It must be nice to have such a likable* face.  Since I have a tendency to be seen as cheeky on a first impression, I’m jealous!
Kairi: Well if you’re gonna say that, then I’m jealous of Ryoutarou’s height (laughs).  
*The particular word Ryoutarou uses to describe Kairi’s face means a face that inspires others to like him.  It has connotations of being charming, attractive, polite, and entertaining.  
Talking with you this much, I can really feel how well the two of you get along.  Incidentally, when you muster up the full force of everyone in Karasuno, what’s that atmosphere like?
Kairi: It feels exactly like you’re in a school club. Usually we’re really unruly, but we get serious when we need to!  When we switch on, it’s like the atmosphere changes completely.  We’re good friends but we’re also all rivals, so it’s not just fun, there’s a good sense of competition too.  
Ryoutarou: Our leader is definitely Kenta-kun.  Since the two of us are the youngest, in the beginning he was constantly guiding us along, but now we’ve gotten to the point where we can even argue with our senpai too.  
Where do the two of you stand when compared with the other Karasuno cast members?
Kairi: Ryoutarou’s gradually become the clown, I think (laughs). I’m the opposite, I’m more the one that watches over everyone from a little ways away.  
Ryoutarou: It’s true, you do watch over us!  But when it’s just the two of us, you’re assertive almost like you’re taking charge, so why?  
Kairi: Because at rehearsals we have a mass of clowns (laughs). You’re the main one, but everyone’s always trying to get a laugh out of everyone else!
A mass of clowns (laughs).  Miura-san, does Kosaka-san try to make you laugh too?
Kairi: I was sitting in front of the mirror, and Ryoutarou came up behind me and suddenly stripped (laughs).  Then he started posing like a bodybuilder!  Even though he’s so lanky (laughs).  That was pretty hilarious.
Ryoutarou: I remember that (laughs).  But Kairi too, even though he’s always so cool before we go up on-stage, patting my shoulder and going, “Let’s break a leg,” the second we get on-stage he becomes all, “Tsukki, Tsukki!” and I think that’s pretty funny.
Kairi: But that’s the part I have to play so there’s no helping that!  Don’t lump that in the same category as your nonsense (laughs).  
With the upcoming tour, “The Strongest Team,” we turn toward the graduation of the Karasuno cast.  Would you please tell us how you feel about that, frankly speaking?
Kairi: Generally speaking, I’m sad.  Especially for me and Ryoutarou both, Engeki Haikyuu is our first full-scale play.  This production is my starting point and my home.  When I think that I’ll be losing a place I’ve always been able to return to... But honestly, it still hasn’t really sunk in.
Ryoutarou: Right now we’re switched over all our emotions to focusing on the play, but when I first heard about our graduation, I honestly couldn’t really believe it... I can’t really imagine how I’ll be once the tour actually ends, but I think that Kairi and I will both cry a lot.  
Kairi: Of course we’ll cry!  But in actuality, I wonder how it’ll turn out...?
Ryoutarou: But, anyway right now, let’s think about how we need to see “The Strongest Team” through to the end!  
Kairi: Ryoutarou, that was a nice answer!
Engeki Haikyuu is a very precious place for the both of you. To the two of you, what sort of presence is Suga Kenta, who’s served as the cast leader for these three years?
Kairi: When I first heard, “Suga Kenta will be auditioning,” I had a lot of mixed feelings.  I mean, I had no experience acting, I was basically the same as an amateur, but my competition was the famous Suga Kenta?  I’m definitely no match for him, and it was almost frustrating... But when I actually saw Kenta-kun’s acting, those feelings just sort of flew away.  Because he just towered over the rest of us.  And then when I first met him at the introductory meeting, Kenta-kun was unbelievably modest.  Even though I’m younger, he used formal speech when greeting me.  When I look back, it’s because Kenta-kun was our cast leader that I could come to love the Karasuno High Volleyball Team as much as I do now.
Ryoutarou: For me, I absolutely just love Kenta-kun.  We’re like family, I basically want to live with him, that’s how much.  He was someone I’d always admired, so when it was decided that we’d be co-stars, I was crazy happy.  With him as our leader, I could trust in him completely.  How can I say it, he’s someone with an overwhelming presence.  Before the curtain goes up, we always huddle everyone together in a circle, but whenever I hear Kenta-kun’s words, I feel like I gain more confidence, and I can feel that improvement on stage.  
Suga-san really is a grand figure, isn’t he?  Can you tell us about a time when you’ve gone out somewhere with everyone in Karasuno?
Kairi: After rehearsals we go out to eat a lot. Actually when it come to Karasuno, we don’t actually talk that much about the play at rehearsals.  Rather than discussing it, first we just try moving around and acting it out.  So after we all get a feel for a scene, we usually compare and adjust things over dinner.
Ryoutarou: Yeah, yeah.  Our “Karasuno Parties” are where we really strengthen our relationships and our solidarity.  We get pretty fired up talking about the play, but it’s also just fun messing around and laughing together with everyone!
I can just picture what it’s like when everyone gets fired up! Have you ever gone out together for fun just the two of you?
Kairi: Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve actually gone out with just Ryoutarou before!
Ryoutarou: We’re basically always together during rehearsals, so I think we’ve never made the effort to go out together just the two of us.  But maybe sometime during “The Strongest Team” we’ll go out together for a drink!
Kairi: That’s a good idea, I’m looking forward to it!
And lastly, with regard to the new show, please give us some of your enthusiasm for “The Strongest Team!”
Kairi: Engeki Haikyuu is the show that was my origin as an actor.  Although I’m sad about our upcoming graduation, as the culmination of the past three years, we’re definitely going to make an interesting show.  Please come see us!
Ryoutarou: Starting with “Summer of Evolution,” and adding “Start of the Giant,” Tsukishima and Yamaguchi have matured in their own ways, and the relationship between them has changed little by little too.  That’s why “The Strongest Team,” should be a very special production for Kairi and myself.  I want tons of people to come see our majestic figures on-stage!  
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Ryoutarou’s Photo Page
What’s something about yourself where you can say, “I’m the best!” I don’t really have anything I can really boast about but... I’ve never lost to anyone when it comes to the length of my legs.  I have the decisive lead when compared to the other Karasuno cast (laughs).  And I’ve tried comparing with other tall cast members on other teams, but I’ve always won!  
What’s something that a fellow Engeki Haikyuu cast member has said to you that’s left a lasting impression? It was when our cast leader Suga Kenta said to me, “Ryoutarou, it’s ok to tell us more and more what you’re thinking.” It was like he gave me a big push. At that moment, I felt like I came to understand my role and my place within Karasuno.  
A memory from the regional tours? When it’s time for the regional tours, everyone always looks forward to going out to eat.  It really does have a training camp atmosphere.  We give it our all for every prefecture, of course, but for me the Miyagi tours have left an impression.  It’s like the audience’s expectations of us are especially high. So there’s relief when we can get decent applause from them.  
A message to your past self when it was announced you’d be cast for the first production: It’s really great, isn’t it?! Congratulations ♡
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Kairi’s Photo Page
What’s something about yourself where you can say, “I’m the best!” I’m really positive, so even if I’m depressed, I’ll forget about it after I get a good night’s rest.  On the whole, I’m pretty strong mentally.  The only time I let it drag on was when I had an unrequited love in middle school (laughs).  At Engeki Haikyuu rehearsals, I may be the type to watch over everyone else’s silliness, but really, I’m the type that doesn’t let it get to me even when I slip and fall in front of other people!
What’s something that a fellow Engeki Haikyuu cast member has said to you that’s left a lasting impression? Back during the first show, as a total beginner as an actor, I was honestly cowering.  When I did, the Kageyama Tobio from back then, Kimura Tatsunari said this to me: “On-stage, it doesn’t matter how old you are or what career experience you’ve had.”  It was thanks to those words that I could always stand on-stage, so I remember it even now.
A memory from the regional tours? When it comes to our regional tours, the atmosphere of the audience changes a little with each place we go, and that’s fun. But our tours in the home of Haikyuu, in Miyagi prefecture, were always very special.  There’s pressure, and I always get unnecessarily more nervous there. But the audience always received us so warmly, so it was a joy.  
A message to your past self when it was announced you’d be cast for the first production: To the Miura Kairi of three years ago: You were really happy, weren’t you? But stop fist pumping in front of the station!! (laughs)
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selfhelp-ocd-blog · 5 years
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My Story
Hello, my name is Hannah. Currently I am 19 years old and am a sophomore in College studying to become a Forensic Anthropologist. I am a devote Christian, I love Harry Potter, Supernatural, The Walking Dead, etc. Yet I have this secret, one that I felt ashamed of and guilty over for quite some time now.
I struggle with HOCD, an obsessive compulsive disorder in which brings forth intrusive and unwanted thoughts of being gay.
2015-16: Change Begins
This particular year was huge for me. Second year of high school, finally making friends in the new area my family and I moved to, and learning of the possible move to Germany. During this period of time in my life there was so much happening at once, to be quite honest I did not know what to do with myself.
With all this change, my anxiety was being tested. Limits were being crossed and walls were being broken. And not in the good way.
December of 2015 would mark my first very scary, very real severe panic attack. One that had been building up for weeks and unknowingly to me, sneak up from behind and grip it’s rough hands around my neck. I should have been happy, I should have been calm. I was at youth group, spending time with my best friend, planning a goofy game with everyone. Yet, while everyone else was laughing, I was crying.
Strange.
I wanted to laugh, goof around, continue being a kid. Yet my body was breaking down, my breath becoming shallow, my hands increasingly unsteady. Everything was numb. From my toes to my face, numb. Before I knew it I was guided into the parking lot where my body had a mind of its own, jerking me around side to side as my mother stared at me with horror. A stroke. She was petrified I was having a stroke, calling the paramedics just to be told I was simply having a severe panic attack, OD-ing on oxygen and simply needed to regulate my breathing.
(The 2019 me is now a pro at stopping a panic attack as soon as they come on, no one knows and no one will ever know that one is happening.)
2016-17: The Move, Medication, Therapy.
Fast forward by about a year and I am now in my Junior year meeting with my psychologist and therapist for the first time. It was this session in which I was diagnosed with Severe Anxiety and OCD, although at the time they simply thought I wanted things nice and tidy, that was not the case whatsoever.
2018: Am I gay?
This was the intrusive thought that snuck into my mind and completely numbed it just like a panic attack.
At the time, my best friend at my new school was notorious for dressing guy-like and being quite the Tom-boy. Neither of us had ever been in a relationship nor were we looking for one. Of course, that never stopped me from having an occasional crush or obsessing over some celebrity, in fact, at the time I was head over heels in love with Tom Hiddleston and Adam Driver. But no one knew this except for my bestie and being a person with severe anxiety, I never made it a point in my life to have more than around one or two good friends, so it was very common for it to be just us roaming around everywhere. Little did I know that many people believed my Bestie to be a lesbian and that she was either trying to make me a lesbian or I was in fact her girlfriend.
Now, with knowing that information, that very key life-threatening (to me) thought became very real as I was eyeing this guy I had a crush on and was with my bestie and hoped he didn’t also believe that I was a lesbian. Which then triggered the thought, “Could I be a Lesbian?”
Silly, I know. Especially for someone who was sporting quite a major crush on this attractive boy, yet I still let it hit me, and boy did it hit me hard. From that point on I worried that perhaps I was a lesbian and that everyone knew except for me, that somehow I was the one missing the key bit of information.
From then on I was becoming obsessive. In the beginning, especially when I had no clue what was happening, I thought that perhaps using hypnosis guides from youtube to essentially ‘erase’ memories would help. But it didn’t, instead I was thinking more and more of it. I remember looking down in the comments to see if it actually worked for someone and a couple comments stuck out regarding HOCD. Other people were worried about their intrusive thoughts and found the life changing label: HOCD.
The search began: What is HOCD? How do I know I have HOCD? Is it HOCD or denial? How do I know for sure it is HOCD and I am completely straight?
Which then triggered the ‘tests’. You know the ones, the stupid: ‘Are you straight/gay/lesbian?’ ones. The ones that even if you get the ‘straight’ answer they will backhand slap you with the; ‘Don’t limit your options, you could be bisexual. You did after all search up a quiz so there could be a chance your into the same sex’.
With this the intrusive thoughts became more intense. Where I would be reassuring myself I was in fact straight but then would accidentally say lesbian instead of straight. Or homosexual instead of heterosexual. Or into girls instead of into guys. The answer was simple: I was saying homosexual, lesbian, and into girls, substituting what I actually wanted to say and think because those words were what was on my mind the most. Those words were causing me such unbelievable anxiety and the intrusive thoughts were taking over my entire way of thinking.
And with that, the intrusive thoughts became even worse. From then on I was constantly checking my bodys reactions. I would compare my emotions between a guy and a girl and would constantly check to see how my brain and body would react.
Big Mistake.
Because in this stage of such unbelievable anxiety and HOCD your body begins to produce false attractions.
Essentially, this means that because I was struggling with such crippling anxiety over possibly being a lesbian, I was unable to look at men anymore and view them as being unbelievably attractive, instead I would see girls and think what I would always think: Wow they’re really beautiful, I wish I looked like them.
And with wishing to look like them I would assess the rest of their body, I would compare their body to mine like I would before unknowingly, but this time it felt like I was checking them up as opposed to comparing them to me. Which then triggered the unwanted thoughts of calling girls pretty, beautiful, and hot.
I have friends who are completely comfortable with saying a woman they see is hot, which I didn’t think twice about when they would say it and would simply comment that yeah they are pretty or beautiful. Yet after struggling with HOCD when a girl would call another girl Hot I would immediately wonder if they were bisexual or a lesbian. Which in turn affected how I reacted to saying another girl was pretty or beautiful. When I would see a girl who was in the range of ‘hot’ standards and would mentally say ‘wow she is hot’ I freaked out. This was the beginning of a new stage of HOCD in which I turned the phrasing of ‘hot’ into a sexual form.
This may seem odd, but I never really thought of anyone as being ‘hot’ because before it was never something that was used in my vocabulary or my friends until I moved. So suddenly thinking this of girls really freaked me out because my brain was introducing new crippling intrusive thoughts.
For months this went on, in fact it almost went on for a year and in that year I had graduated and started a new job and was going to college online. These new areas in my life tugged my anxiety and thoughts in a different direction and before I knew it the HOCD was gone. It was as if one day I woke up and it was as if I had never even had it.
2018-19: Out with the New and in with the Old.
My life was fantastic, no more intrusive thoughts and brand new friends along with being paid in a job I loved. It was all fantastic until a girl at my job decided to open up to me and tell me that she thinks she might be bisexual. Sure she was dating our supervisor who was a great guy, but she also was reminded of how when she first met her best friend she kind of had feelings for her.
This reminded me of my HOCD and suddenly my fresh smile was replaced with the trained fake one.
The only person who knew I had struggled with HOCD by this point was only my mom, who while had told me a couple years ago that if I was a lesbian it was completely okay also informed me that she believed me to be 100% straight.
(Mothers do know best and do not get the wrong idea about her believing I was a lesbian a couple years ago, at the time I had never dated a guy and still have yet to, but in that period of time it was around a year after her sister came out on her fathers deathbed and then disappeared because while he was alive she was so scared of being judged. My mother just wanted to let me know that no matter what she would not judge me and love me for me despite the gender I liked. Of course,a couple months after that she saw how boy crazy I was for one guy and informed me during my identity crisis that I was in fact straight.)
So after my co-worker confided in me, I decided to share something personal about myself to her. I told her about the period of time in my life how people would make fun of me about being a lesbian even though I wasn’t and then one day I thought: what if I was? and it felt like my entire world was caving in. Then I told her about how that feeling was silly as I do check out guys and I do find their bodies quite enticing.
During this time wrestling season had begun and my brothers were on the team, there were more than a couple shirtless guys who made me blush.
After telling her this information, she informed me that she believes and knows I am straight, that she could tell despite me sharing the wrestling bit and how terrible people are to accuse someone of being gay or a lesbian when they know they are not.
Fast forward a couple months and wrestling season is just about over.
Only now I am sporting more than just a small crush for a guy on the wrestling team. I liked this guy, like really liked him. I thought he was unbelievably handsome, loved his voice and body, loved how he treated people, how kind he was, how he wanted to be a nurse and was also misinterpreted by people. Many thought he was stupid because of the slow way he talked, by the way he acted, but he was actually incredibly smart.
I loved how he made me forget about the bad and think only of the good.
It wasn’t until months into this ‘crush’ that I had realized the HOCD was fully gone, that I hadn’t thought about it for months. Hadn’t had any issues with talking to girls, was able to watch TV and not worry if I was attracted to the obviously beautiful women on the screen. I was able to read romance novels again and fall in love with the male leads.
In fact, I was able to find men in general attractive again. Celebirties were becoming enticing once again, I finally got around to watching ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ and fell in love with the devilously handsome Noah Centineo. Who I ended up becoming obsessed about and watched anything that had him in it.
I felt cured, in fact, I believed I was cured.
No longer was I looking at others and immediately struck with the thought of if they were a lesbian or if they were gay. Other people were normal again, I was normal again.
Or so I thought.
July 2019: The Cure No More
With OCD and intrusive thoughts comes shame and guilt, while a couple weeks ago I was not concerned about HOCD, I was obsessing over the fact that I have viewed Porn in the past and the recent present and how I was a terrible Christian over it and didn’t deserve anyone. (That story will be for another day).
My depression over this got so bad that my parents could visablly tell something was wrong and pulled me to the side and were trying their best to force it out of me. For hours that day I had repelled them and refused to tell them.
My mom, in turn, tried guessing. She asked if I was pregnant? No. Did I commit a Murder? No. Was I doing drugs? No. Was I Gay? Because a while ago I was worried about being gay so that could be what I was worried about. Again, No. I told her there was no way I was Gay, that I 100% knew I was straight because I fell in love with a guy where we just moved from and was doing my best to lose my feelings for him since there was no chance we’d see each other again.
By the end of the day I finally confessed and they informed me that all my shame and guilt was for nothing because what she asked me earlier was a hundred times worse.
And with that all the thoughts returned.
Does she think I’m a lesbian? Could she have been lying to me when she told me she didn’t believe I was a lesbian? She asked if I was specifically stating that a while ago I was worried about it so does that mean she actually does think I could be or am a lesbian?
And with that I was back down the rabbit hole over something that was so incredibly silly.
She also asked if I was pregnant multiple times saying that before we left I was gone for several hours so how could she know what I have or have not done, it was the same situation yet I was not worried about being pregnant. This was the same situation with the drugs question, I didn’t do drugs but she didn’t know that, so why wasn’t I freaking out over her thinking I could have possibly done drugs? All of these things are situations in which she has to take my word over it, yet I was only worried about the question about my sexuality.
Her only proof was that a year ago I had questioned my sexuality because of other people, but that does not mean that I am a lesbian.
But that is the thing about HOCD, you want 100% confirmation on something that only you can give 100% confirmation about. You want other people to tell you that you are straight, or gay if you are having intrusive thoughts about being straight when you know you are gay or a lesbian.
Intrusive thoughts cloud that 100% because you feel that they are your own when in reality they are not. Through out the day our brain produces millions upon billions of thought, most of which we don’t even remember because as soon as they come up in our heads they disappear and we don’t even know it. Yet, especially with those that struggle with anxiety and self-esteem, these intrusive thoughts sometimes surface and cloud our judgement.
This is my story, my struggle with HOCD. I have beat it once and I will beat it as many times as I need to. I know these thoughts are not mine and I know who I am. Having read many other’s stories with their struggle, I’ve decided it is finally time to share mine and help others as they struggle with me.
I am not sure anybody is going to actually read this, but if you have, thank you. I hope that my story has helped you and give some relief that you are not alone. If you want to talk I am here.
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kvetas · 4 years
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*✿ 001; tyl headcanons (tsuna)
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gotta establish what kind of guy he is ten years later before i even start to think about threads tbfh. they won’t be in any specific order.
tsuna is more composed and has more confidence in himself in comparison to his past self. he’s nearly appears to be a spitting image of giotto back in the day. though he has accepted his fate of becoming a mafia boss, he refuses to inherit the vongola’s accumulated sins. he currently works to tear down the vongola and reign as primo for neo-vongola.
though, in the end, he’s still the down-to-earth and humble person who can’t quite say no to someone in need that he’s always has been.
tsuna is just the kind of guy who’d look like a dignified figure, but he’s honestly running purely on 10 cups of coffee from doing an all-nighter with paperwork the night before because he slacked off a bit earlier in the day thinking ‘i’ll be able to catch up with paperwork later haha!’.
well he did, but at what cost.
also, i don’t care how classy he has to look as a mafia boss, you’re going to have to pry his Hoodie Aesthetic from his casual wear out of his cold, dead, hands. he will fight you on this with his dying will.
someone usually has to wake him up and pick clothes out for him if they don’t want him looking like a five year old dressed him up. he still hasn’t fixed his habit of sleeping in during the morning so he’d put clothes on haphazardly in a mad rush if left unattended.
compared to how he’d panic to a situation, he’d normally be kinda impassive, rather no-nonsense, and maybe even a little amused at General Canon-Typical Shenanigans happening. but this is mostly contributed to the fact that he’s literally just too tired to be putting up with this with only maybe 20% actually being from a backbone lmao
he’s so jealous of other mafia bosses who actually have time to travel around. since he’s running the literal biggest mafia family in the entire underworld, he has considerably more ground to oversee even with divided sections of the organization. and he still has to take time out of the day to train so that he doesn’t get rusty smfh
sunday is like, the only day of the week he eventually had made to be his official off day. please do not @ him about work unless someone is literally dying/is dead. this happens more often than he’d like, however.
his sundays are usually either lazy days (usually the case) sleeping in or binge-watching tv shows, taking time to visit the town, or just hanging out with friends. nothing special, but that’s pretty much what he’s aiming for here.
there’s about, a 40-60% chance of someone barging in to drag him into canon-typical hijinks anyways though.
unlike his dad, he actually takes time every week to call his mother and tries to take a weekend off every month to go visit her. (usually, he’d bring lambo and fuuta along if possible.) i like to imagine that he’s in a group chat with her, along with reborn, lambo, i-pin, and fuuta so at least they text often. for holidays, i would imagine he’d visit for new year’s, for sure.
he most likely went to university in italy on the pretense of a scholarship (despite his miraculously average grades he graduated high school with) at 17-18 via reborn kicking him to using italian lessons in practice.
i guess he majored in business. since. that was the most relevant major.
initially, tsuna’s only really able to pull off cooking something simple considering how clumsy he still is. but after living in italy for like, a week, tsuna became homesick, and started missing his mom’s cooking. he wasn’t satisfied even when a cook specializing in japanese food was hired. so he seriously started to learn from his mom’s recipes after that and now he’s a relatively competent cook. Though, he still isn’t on par with his mom’s cooking, if anything he’s just. Okay with maybe a 18% chance of making a blunder. But he’d feel bad hassling his cooks about it.
he prays that the day reborn crashing by to lay down spartan cooking lessons never comes though god may it never come.
still reads manga in his spare time, though he generally reads it on his phone. also plays mobile games now instead of consoles, but rather casual about it. not really the kind of guy who’d drop $100 for rolling any favorite characters but he definitely has general bad luck on gachas so he wouldn’t. really play games with that implemented very much. :’)
you know those kinds of fancy formal parties where all the mafiosos and other important figures go to? yeah, he Dreads going to those very much and hates it when he can’t just send anyone else to go instead because it’s important enough to warrant mafia bosses to go.
like YEAH SURE, he can keep up a conversation about work and business deals and inane stuff like taste in wine or designer watches blah blah blah. but he’s practically just. auto-piloting 80% of the time, the remaining 20% is just mentally figuring out when a good time to Leave is. technically speaking, he has all the authority to walk out whenever he wants but he’s too polite oops
but yeah, if he can help it, he’d usually just be frequently be near any of his guardians and personnel. he just wants to hang around his friends lol
thank fucgkin god he’s able to refer to everyone by first name basis by now. like, he’d still use honorifics but Gosh tsuna, hayato and takeshi are like, your best friends - why were you still calling them by their surnames even at the end of the manga.
he’s usually so, so unbelievably happy if a mafia boss he’s friends with is at the party too because God, finally, someone he can relax enough to talk about stuff he’d be fine talking about. dino, uni, and enma are like SS+ tier level. byakuran’s like, A tier, if only because you just never know what he’s thinking so that makes tsuna kinda nervous still especially since he had a life-or-death battle against an alternate version of byakuran but hey, at least he’s generally a fun guy. longchamp is probably at a C tier because he’s... pretty tiring to deal with but he appreciates his friendliness and sincerity.
tl;dr - being a millennial managing a whole ass syndicate is Hard. he may seem like a distinguished bi, but really he’s a disaster and he just wants to curl up and Nap.
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He’d had to read the letter a few times to make sense of it. It had to be a mistake. Even when Mom showed up and asked him what it was, when she read it and gasped her pride, he didn’t believe it. 
“Valedictorian?!” She’d exclaimed it so loud he was sure the neighbours would pound on the walls and tell them to shut up. “Oh, honey, that’s amazing!” She threw her arms around his shoulders. That was a mistake, he wanted to say. Had to be. He was able to swipe the letter again when she was hugging him. ... Nope. That was his name, alright. ‘Mr. Warren E. Peace’. ... Yeah.
Had to be a joke, then. There’s no way this would be allowed. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how these things worked. Kids like him didn’t get to be representatives of anything aside from ‘What Not To Be’ posters. Hell, he was lucky the Board was even letting him graduate. He still remembered hearing Mom arguing over the phone to even let him be allowed to attend Sky High. She thought he hadn’t heard. He had. He’d just never gotten around to letting her know. But, if they’d disliked him so much then, before he’d even gotten involved in the super community, what had changed? Yes, some things were different. Sort of. The Stronghold Support Group had been making waves. But progress had been slow. There’d been a lot of backlash. It wasn’t surprising, but, it was pretty extreme. Everyone seemed ready to pounce at everyone else’s throat for the tiniest thing. So, putting him on a pedestal in front of everyone - Baron Battle’s son, on stage for the world to see? That was throwing a match into a pot of kerosene and expecting nothing to go wrong.
... Unless that was their plan. Let everything go wrong and then crow about how they’d been right about him, all along. Did that sound paranoid? Absolutely. Might as well start building the tinfoil hat now. But he had his reasons. It’s not like anyone in the super community had been friendly to him since- Well, ever. (With five lovable, dorky exceptions.) This was a major one-eighty. It didn’t make any sense. (And, unknowingly, he was right. It had taken a lot of arguing back and forth at both the Board and Agency meetings for this to be considered ‘acceptable’. Nobody told him that, though.) But, if they were waiting for him to crash and burn, they could keep waiting. Spite was one hell of a motivator. ... And this would look great on his college applications, if he didn’t mess it up. And Mom seemed so excited, he wouldn’t ruin this for her. 
(He wasn’t sure if he was excited or not. He was mostly just nervous. Nervous and stressed.)
The stress would only continue to grow. If he’d thought he’d had a shortage of free time before, that was nothing compared to how things were now. Most lunch breaks were spent in the library researching and wearing pencils to the nub, or... Talking to people. That was probably the hardest part, for a few reasons, and he had to recruit a few of the others for help in that department. Sped up the process, at least. Many hands make light work. He brought books to the Lantern to read while he washed, as usual, but the subject matter was different. After his weekend shifts, he’d bus or walk down to the city library (it was quieter than the apartment, and the resources there were beyond helpful). A bit of negotiating let him in to the school computer lab to use the printer. The stack of papers got a raised eyebrow or two. Most people just assumed it was for a report or something. He didn’t bother correcting them.
The last few days of school came and went. He was grateful he’d gotten so much time in advance to work on this. (If he’d asked around, he’d learn that he had Principal Powers to thank for that. She knew he worked, and so decided early notice was more than fair. But Warren didn’t ask. So Warren didn’t know.) Exams seemed to fly by. Warren had to put speech-writing on hold for studying. He’d sacrificed sleep, meals, a social life (not like he had one, anyways), and more things than he could count for a 4.0 throughout his entire high school career, he wasn’t losing that, now. He made himself feel better about the ‘lack of productivity’ by having Mom read the drafts over in the mean time. There weren’t too many others who could, due to the subject matter. But he knew what he wanted to talk about, and thought the inconvenience was worth it. After a few days spent with his face buried in a textbook on different peoples’ couches, tests were done and scores were in. Report cards came home. He sat on the stairs with the others - by the ledge, in their usual spot - and listened to groans of dismay, exclamations of surprise, and proud pats on the back. He offered a bit of sympathy himself, a few teasing remarks. The usual faire. Good-byes when his bus driver stepped to the driver’s seat. Offered a somewhat forced smirk at their enthusiasm at the upcoming graduation, a shrug and a nod at promises to sit together. Like he’d hang with anyone else. The six of them were a clique of their own, always had been, always would be. (He hoped so, anyway.) 
He showed Mom his report card. She seemed proud as she always did. Added a teasing ‘I’m not surprised’ and tugged him down to kiss his forehead. 
“Oh, Warren, you’ve worked so hard.” She said, giving him a squeeze. “But you did it! You survived!” 
“I did.” He said, returning the hug. She was so little... It was easy to forget she used to be a superhero. She stepped back and placed her hands on either side of his face, smiling a watery-eyed smile up at him.
“Guess we’ve gotta start thinking about college for you, now, huh?” She said that so sincerely. Like it’s something they’d ever be able to afford. 
“Might take a year off.” He shrugged. Like that’d make a difference. She frowned, brushed some hair from his face. 
“You don’t have to.” She said, and he averted his eyes. “We can make it work.” He nodded, pressed his lips into a thin line. In his dreams. He didn’t say that, though. Didn’t want to kill the mood. She sighed and shook her head, dropping her hands to his shoulders.
“You’ve grown up so fast, you know that?” She tilted her head to the side. He nodded. (’Too fast’, she might’ve said. But this wasn’t the time or place for that conversation.) “Feels like just yesterday, we were trying to teach you your ABC’s.”
“Think I’ve got the hang of them, now.” He says, offering a smile. She grins back and nods with a soft laugh.
“I know you do.” She hugs him again, tighter, this time. (He’s pretty sure he heard his back crack.) “I’m so proud of you, baby.” He hugged her back, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Thanks, Mom.” 
... If he’d thought she looked like she was about to cry then, that was nothing compared to grad night. The Peace family had tried to avoid the super community for years. This would be Mom’s first step back in years. (Not entirely true. She’d made a few calls when the Board had kicked up a fuss about Warren’s attending Sky High, and the agents there had learned that Monsoon was titled after a storm for a reason.) This would be the first time Warren faced them all like this. So, he’d gotten done up in his dad’s old suit. The same one he’d worn to homecoming on that first wild and unbelievable year. And she’d gotten a dress from... Somewhere. When he’d asked, she said she was borrowing it from a friend. He thought she looked great, anyways. As for the suit, well - he regretted it. Graduation robes were hot, even to him. Mitigating the heat with his powers only did so much. He was considering taking off his jacket, but decided against it. 
The ribbon draped over his shoulders drew some stares and even more whispers. The same sort of things he’d thought. Warren Peace? Really, that’s who they chose? Bullshit, said some. This oughta be good, said some others. Who’d his dad kill to make that happen?, said a third party. Who’d his mom-- The fourth was cut off by a glare and a snarl. Congrats, said his friends, who mostly already knew, calming the air to a tangible extent. They walked in in procession, and he regretted the fact that the line was alphabetical (last names), but at least Maj was behind him. Peace and Queen, v. 2.0. The guy in front of him - Freddie Park - glanced over his shoulder a few times as they waited outside the gym. Warren didn’t bother to ask why. They filed in to some ridiculous orchestral music. Parents waved and clapped and cheered and camera flashes mixed in with the school lighting. He picked Mom out of the crowd. Looked like she’d gotten there early enough to get a decent seat. Maj’s mom was beside her, of course. Peace and Queen, v. 1.0. Mom was smiling so hard it looked like she was about to split her face in half. She waved, and the little disposable in her hand flashed a few times. He did his best to avoid looking too embarrassed and slid into his seat, kicking the paper-filled waste basket under the chair so he’d have somewhere to put his feet. 
The teachers did their best to stress the alphabetical order, and, for the most part, it worked. But that didn’t stop people from leaning back in their seats to talk across the rows and aisles. Quips about the speeches the staff made. Harsher quips about the Board’s. At least they all knew the teachers, but when some old suit got up to drone on in front of a bunch of super-teens and thought they’d pay attention, it was only the fact that their parents were here and this was grad night that kept it from turning into a bloodbath. A roar of cheers broke out when The Commander and Jetstream took the stage to present the trophy for ‘Hero of the Year’. (Yeah, based on the Royal Pain one. Someone had the bright idea to turn the whole thing around and make it into an award for the graduating class. Not what Warren would call a good move, but, nobody asked him.) There were notably fewer cheers when Mr. Boy got up to present Sidekick of the Year. (That was a thing, too. Warren figured there was some bigwig patting themselves on the back for being so progressive.) Hero went to Will, to nobody’s surprise. The votes had been pretty unanimous. Sidekick went to Gina Connors. Will, of course, said he couldn’t have done it without his friends. This was met with vocal support from the rest of their group, and even Warren clapped along. The camaraderie was ruined when Jetstream - Josie - kissed her son on the cheek, and the fact that Will’s blush was visible from the back row sent snickers rippling across his peers. Warren didn’t really agree with Gina’s win, but, he was probably bias. ... He also thought that her powers might have had something to do with it. Handwriting mimicry. But his vote probably hadn’t counted for much. 
He’d written four names on the ballot, after all. Probably against the rules.
He got a handful of awards. Shared the Phys-Ed one with Will, and nobody was surprised. They were a team, after all. People were shocked at the community service one, though, and so was he (he shared that with Taylor Lewis and Layla. There weren’t many three-way ties like that). He collected a few plaques, a few pins, a few cords, and the gold-standard certificate. Had to pile all of them on his chair when it was finally time to go up. (He’d noticed, as he was stepping down from the podium with the certificate, Mom switching a new roll of film into the camera. Where’d she gotten the money for that?)
Deep breath. 
He pulled the trash bin out from under his chair and weaved his way through tie aisles. Maj gave him a nod of encouragement, which he mutely returned. There was a hush as he took the stage. A few whispers. A handful of claps. Mostly from Mom, Ms. Queen, and the rest of the SSG. Looked like he really could count on them for anything. He set the trash can down by the side of the podium (ignored the confused looks) and let the papers rest just under the microphone. He opened his mouth to speak, and--
“YEAH, that’s my BOY!” Zach’s voice was so loud, it almost seemed like he was trying to give Boomer a run for his money. Abigail Bruin and Leslie Black (to either side of him) had jolted away like that would save their eardrums. Little late for that. Still, it broke the tension a bit. Warren was grateful, in spite of his raised eyebrow and rolled eyes. Waited for silence. It wasn’t a long wait. He picked up the first page of his stack. 
“July fourth, 1776. Declaration of Independence. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal’.” He held up the paper for all to see, two fingers on the bottom of the page. He looked up just in time to catch the gasp when that hand caught ablaze. “Not at Sky High.” He dropped the paper into the bin, flicking a bit of fire in after it to keep it ablaze. He picked up the second piece of paper. 
“December fifteenth, 1791.  Amendment Six. ‘In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury’.” This was also set on fire and dropped into the trash can. “Not at Sky High.” If people weren’t paying attention before, it looked like they were, now. 
“December tenth, 1948. Universal Declaration of Human Rights. ‘All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.’”   Also set on fire, also dropped into the trash can. “Not at Sky High.” By now, there was a decent blaze at his side, and a lot of the adults in the room looked visibly on edge. (Mom looked proud. She’d heard him practice this a dozen or more times.) 
“When I was six,” he looked up, ignoring the script he’d prepared, just in case. “If you asked me what my dad did, I would’ve told you he sold cars. And I would’ve been proud of it.” He pulled a tiny Hot Wheelz out of his jacket pocket. Picked it up at the second-hand store earlier that week. “I didn’t understand how cover careers worked. I was six. All I knew was that cars were cool.” He let the car roll across the podium as he talked. A faint smattering of chuckles through the crowd. He caught the car before it fell. “I thought I wanted to be like him. I wanted to sell cars. Or drive them. My friends and I used to talk about being in NASCAR when we grew up.” That hand caught fire, now, blazing brilliant white with wound-tight nerves. When he opened his hand, the car was gone, and a mangled mess of plastic and metal sagged in its place.
“August fourteenth.” If his voice sounded unsteady here, he didn’t notice. “1997. International Court of Justice transcription, Judge Quyen Tran presiding. ‘For your crimes against humanity too numerous to recount, I hereby sentence you to four consecutive life sentences within the North Alaskan Penitentiary for the Supernaturally Enabled. May you never again see the light of day’.” It hurt to read, but he kept his composure as he tossed the metal-plastic lump into the flaming waste basket. It wobbled slightly, and he steadied it with his foot. 
“Baron Battle got his trial. Warren Peace didn’t.” He didn’t look up at the crowd, and didn’t admit to himself that he couldn’t. “The day before I turned seven years old, I received my own life sentence. Just the one - but it was enough. It was different than the kind Judge Tran would’ve given me. The sentence I got,” he did look up here, briefly. “is the kind with no cell, no shackles, but still prevents you from ever being free. It’s the kind that makes every door close before you get anywhere near it.” He looked to Mom for a confidence boost. She was nodding, smiling a smile that seemed strained. He figured she wouldn’t be smiling for long. He was getting to the part where he’d stopped reading to her and started reading to the mirror. 
“The sentence I got is the kind that makes grown adults look at a seven-year-old kid - one who still wears velcro sometimes, because tying shoes is a new thing - and say that he’s never going anywhere in life. The kind that makes teachers look at a kid who can barely see over the top of their desk and think ‘he must have done something to deserve it’ when he says something about how he’s being treated. The kind that makes them look down their noses from their safe ten-foot distance at a kid who’s just graduated from picture books and talk. Maybe they thought I couldn’t hear. But I could. It was like living in an echo chamber. People said I was dangerous. I’d never amount to anything. I’d end up in juvie, if I was lucky, and my poor mother for having to put up with me.” An exhale against the silence. “The thing is, when you hear that often enough... You start to believe it. By the time I was in middle school, I thought they were right. I mean, if everyone-” He looked up again, caught his mother’s gaze. “Almost everyone, is so convinced of that, who am I to tell them ‘no’? You just start to accept the majority’s rule. You believe you’re a criminal, even if you have no record. You believe you’re good-for-nothing, even if you try your hardest. You believe you’re a burden on everyone around you and curse your invulnerabilty to Hell and back from preventing you from lifting that burden.” There was a different kind of silence over the room, now. A colder one. A heavier one.
He kept going. 
“I never got a trial. I never saw a jury. But a thousand judges sat before me and the verdict was unanimous. And with all the naivety of youth, I thought I was the only defendant. But that wasn’t the case. When I first came to Sky High, I had a reputation before I even walked through the door. I’ll admit, I didn’t do much to get rid of it. I might as well own up to the cafeteria thing, now, since everyone already knows about it. That one’s on me. ... But it was Stronghold who put the holes in the walls.”
“My bad,” Will offered from where he sat. Warren smirked and rolled his eyes. A few quiet laughs in the audience. 
“Back then, I thought it was just me. That I’d said or done something back in first grade to deserve all of it. That something was wrong with me. ... Turns out that assumption was what was wrong. It’s not just me. It was never just me.” He straightened his stack of papers, took a second to straighten his posture. 
“Donna Reese was in the year above ours. Her grandmother was a villain who called herself Lady Fracture. Donna’s mother is unpowered and a civilian. I ran into Donna not long before tonight. She works at an autoshop as a secretary and apprentice, volunteers at a soup kitchen in her free time, and never misses an episode of Criminal Minds. She also can’t get hired by the Agency as a hero. She’s applied seventeen times to date. When she asked why they turned her away, she was told that she was too dangerous. Too unpredictable. She’s pretty sure that’s also why she gets stopped and searched at the gate every time she goes back to the Agency, when everyone else is allowed to pass through without interruption. Donna’s eighteen years old, and has no record. Not even for speeding. She’s not old enough to drink, but apparently, she is old enough to give up on.” That paper was also dropped, flaming, into the trash can. The dying embers devoured it greedily. 
“Phillip Ashfield is a sophomore here at Sky High. His cousin is a villain called Bile Intent, who’s currently locked up in Fort Brant. That’s medium-security, for those wondering. Phil’s a comic book enthusiast who’ll talk about his favourite heroes with anyone who’ll listen, and some people who won’t. In his freshman year, you could always pick him out of a crowd, ‘cause he always had someone’s logo on his T-shirt. He had the Commander’s castle on a few times, Beacon’s lamp, Gold Fang’s gate, Animalia’s pawprint, and I even saw him with Mom’s ‘M’ on, once or twice. His friends told me he always got so excited when someone recognized who he was supporting that day. He wanted to be just like them.” He looked up from his paper here to fix the crowd with an almost accusatory stare. “He wanted to be just like you.” A pause to let that sink in, before he looked back to his papers. “I’m using the past-tense for this, and the shirts, because a few days before the end of his freshman year, Phillip Ashfield, age 14, was cornered by a handful of upper-year students in his way home from school and physically assaulted. I got a chance to talk to his parents, and they said it was hard to tell how bad the beating actually was, since he’d had paint thrown over him and the limited-edition 1988 Jetstream shirt he’d been so proud of. He’d reportedly been told to stop pretending. That he wasn’t fooling anyone. He’d never be a hero, and they’d probably already had a bed waiting for him at Brant. That he should do everyone a favour and lock himself up before he hurt somebody. And yeah, before you ask, I’ve been told similar. Phil was fourteen then, he’s fifteen now, and I never saw him in anyone’s logo again. He’s barely old enough to get a learner’s permit, but he’s beyond old enough to condemn.” Another burning paper dropped into the bin. 
“Jason Jaspers, son of Marco Polarity and a civilian father. Jason likes card tricks and poker and country music. He hates being in school and skips frequently. Hangs out with a group of civilians at the Spotlight down town. But I can’t blame him. Would you like going to a place where your locker was so badly vandalized you couldn’t open it any more? Where you had an entire bowl of punch dumped onto you your first homecoming? Where you had your clothes stolen at gym, only to turn up later clogging one of the toilets in the guys’ washroom? And, by the way, gym clothes belong to the school, so, better hope you have something else to wear home, Jay. He’s turning seventeen in a week, and he’s already decided he’s not applying to the Agency. He’s heard the same stories that I have- The same ones Donna heard, Phil heard, that so many kids like us hear: They don’t want us there. Just like everywhere we’ve tried before, they don’t want us. So I don’t know what Jay’s gonna do with his life, but I sure as hell don’t blame him for leaving the community behind.” Another flaming paper. He was glad he had the fire to vent, otherwise it’d be a lot harder to keep his composure.
“Whether our parents, grandparents, cousins, relatives, whoever deserved what they got, sure, yeah, they probably did. But we didn’t. I didn’t think that way at the time. I still thought it was just us. I still thought it was justice. That we’d done something wrong, all of us, to deserve the harassment and the abuse, because that’s what it was. That we as children still trying to find our place in the world had done something so horrible that for my entire experience at Sky High, all four years, there was only one teacher who was halfway decent to me throughout and that was Coach Boomer.” He pointed in the Coach’s general direction. “But I’m sorry, Coach, ‘cause if we’re still following the court metaphor, then you’ve presided over more mistrials than I can count, because it still wasn’t just us. And it never was.”
“When Will and I totaled the cafeteria, we both got detention for it. Not my proudest moment, but, hey, I had it coming, I’ll admit. Meanwhile, there were a pair of upper years who wreaked havoc every day. Half-drowned kids and their belongings in the toilets, stole lunch money and food, assaulted and harassed the staff in front of crowds of people. I didn’t meet them in detention. I met them in gym, because they were the star athletes. What’s the difference? They targeted sidekicks. I can’t help but wonder - If Will hadn’t gotten his powers in time to throw me through the teacher’s lounge, would I have gotten in trouble for it? I dunno. Maybe not. Those two - Speed and Lash if you’re curious, you probably remember what happened to them - weren’t the only ones, even if they were the worst. Making life hell for the sidekick class was a school tradition. My friend Zach--”
“WOO!” Came a voice from the crowd.
“Yeah, that’s you.” Warren nodded. “In Freshman year, he got the award for ‘Most Useless Superpower’.” When he looked up again, accusation was mixed with an angry defiance. “Why is that a thing? In what world is it okay to tell a fourteen-year-old, in a written, official school document, that he’s useless? ... I guess the same world where telling another freshman that he’s lucky the Agency is letting him step on school property is acceptable. ‘Cause I’ll tell you right now, the fact that we have that award is disgusting, and Zach is anything but useless. He’s one of the most painfully upbeat and optimistic people I know. He’ll face any challenge head-on without flinching, he’d rather die before betraying a friend or leaving someone behind, and he’s the first person in the caf to start shoving food at me if he thinks I’m not eating enough. He’s a damn good person who any of you would be lucky to be anything like, and he doesn’t deserve the shit you put him through,” (Oh, they weren’t too happy about the language.) “And don’t ask me to repeat myself, Glowstick, because we both know I’m not gonna. But, you know what? Maybe being a good person at Sky High is useless. That’d explain why there are so few of them. ‘Cause just like the list of kids like me, the list of kids like Zach goes on. Andy Dwyer graduated school flinching when half the hero class of his year walked by. Mavis Acrowitz was five minutes late to every class because there were some halls she was terrified to walk through, so she had to find other routes. Leo Winters was a master at faking sick, because the nurse’s office was the only place he could eat his lunch in peace. Toby Price did homework for himself and the Hero who had a locker next to his - Bec Lewis - so he’d be left alone, and took the blame from his parents when his grades slipped as a result. Scott Green just dropped out. Couldn’t take it any more. Dunno what happened to him.”
“It wasn’t a secret these things were happening. We all knew it. But it happened out in the open, and it was never really punished, so we assumed that’s just how things were. When the staff turned a blind eye or even encouraged it, that only cemented the idea. And Mr. Boy - I never had you myself, but one thing came up pretty frequently when I was talking to people about this. You were almost unanimously the favourite teacher, because you made the kids you taught, the sidekicks - the Hero Support - feel like maybe, just maybe, they weren’t worthless, after all. Maybe they could amount to something, even if it was living in someone else’s shadow.” He looked up again. “Think about for a second. In this entire school, only one teacher told an entire class of kids they had some value. Only one teacher out of the entire faculty treated them with the respect the Declaration-” (he pointed to the trash can) “says they deserve. And he was a sidekick, too. I can’t be the only one who sees a problem with that.”
“When I helped save the school from Royal Pain - and yes, I am playing that card - I won the award for ‘Most Likely to be a Villain’. I got it every year. Even this year. You can check the year books if you don’t believe me, but you probably do. You guys voted for it, after all.”  A bitter shrug. “That was the year Zach got ‘most useless superpower’. And someone got that award every year, too. That kind of thing sends a message. It tells us that it doesn’t matter what we do. Our actions and our efforts aren’t important. All that matters is things completely outside of our control. Whether it’s kids like me who get blamed for things our relatives did or kids like the sidekicks who get shunned for the powers they were born with, you look at us and brand us as criminals, as losers, and wastes of time and wastes of your breath. You see us as failures and throw us away before we ever get the chance to be anything else!” There’s heat distortion around his hand as he gestures to the trash can again, but he clenches his fist and takes a breath and it’s gone before any fire can bloom. “But who cares? Because all we are is villains and sidekicks. And you’re the good guys. ... Which only makes the fact that I have to get up here and tell you this all the more ridiculous.”
“You’re the adults.” He waved a hand to the crowd. “We’re the children.” He thumped himself in the chest with an open palm. “You’re supposed to be showing us right from wrong. But not at Sky High. You’re the teachers, we’re the students. You’re supposed to be encouraging us - all of us - to be the best we possibly can. But not at Sky High. You’re superheroes. It’s your duty by choice - A responsibility you willingly took on - to stand up to injustice, to protect those who can’t protect themselves, to make the world a better place, to be- Well, heroes. But not at Sky High.” He threw the rest of the papers into the trash bin. Only a few small flames remained. 
“Things need to change. They need to change yesterday. It’ll be difficult, and it’ll take all of us. But it’s well past the time that, when people talk about kids feeling unsafe in school, when they talk about the discrimination rampant in the Agency and in the education system, when they talk about how they feel like they failed the younger generations and have no clue where they went wrong, that we can honestly and proudly say, ‘Not at Sky High’.” He took a step back from the podium, picked up his trashcan, and walked off stage without a word. He wasn’t sure where the clapping started. Maybe Mom, maybe one of the others, But it caught on - mostly from the sidekick kids, he noted - until it was loud enough that Powers had to wait a moment for silence. Warren walked past the rows of students. He was stopped, briefly, by Zach, who pulled him into a tight hug. Warren decided not to complain too much. Patted him on the back, untangled himself, and moved to the middle-back of the gym where the Ps, Qs, and Rs were sitting. Maj moved the awards on his chair so he could sit and nudged him with her shoulder.
“Nice one, Hothead.” She said, and he nodded.
“Thanks.”
“Thank you, Mr. Peace.” Powers said, once she was satisfied with the volume in the room. Warren looked up just in time to catch a conspiratorial smile she shot his way. He arched a brow. She clearly knew something he didn’t. He wasn’t sure to feel about that, but she carried on before he could dwell too much on the thought. “Now, if I could request the help of our staff in lining up the student body, it is my honour to present our graduating class of 2008 with their diplomas. Yes, good- Thank you. Patricia Abernathy...”
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flusteredmarina · 6 years
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Ending my undergraduate years (2014-2018)
I don’t know how to start this one so I apologize in advance for the lack of structure in this post. I think that’s one of the difficulties I’m having right now, trying to write this as a blog post instead of a journal entry given the intimacy of this whole thing. Still, I want to share it and not just keep it to myself because I’d like to think that there are people out there that share the same sentiments as me. But yeah, I hope you don’t mind if I end up writing this like I do in my diary.
So, to give the basics: I graduated from my AB Sociology degree in uni as a cum laude last June 4, 2018 (Monday). I think I gave you a preview of sorts about my college life in the two posts I shared back in 2016. That was quite few and a while ago, I know, haha.
I think I’ll just start on my immediate thoughts when I confirmed that I’ll be a candidate for Batch 2018 graduation. I am so happy that I’m done with college. I’m really glad that I’m done with all the academic work. The week before my graduation, I was trying to keep it together and not break down from all the exhaustion that the past 4 years has given me. The feelings/memories of anxiety, pain, despair, suffering, helplessness, all the negative aspects‒ they just came flooding back to me. I am so tired of everything and everyone. I mean, I went through all that shit. What the hell? One thing that I just can’t find myself to be fully happy with is graduating with Latin honors. I am in no way ungrateful. I did let myself imagine once in a while what it’s like to go up the stage and receive such an award. But I keep thinking, “how much of it is mine?” How much of the achievement reflected in that medal is mine? How much of it are my classmates’? How much of it is due to the benevolence of my professors? How much of it is from my so-called “hard work”? How much of that thing can I claim? Maybe I’m selling myself short or maybe people just don’t see how incompetent I’d been, but that cum laude award‒do I deserve that? Those semesters that I’d been in the Dean’s List, did I deserve them? I never aimed for any of those, you know. From early on in my college years, I learned that to simply pass my subjects is enough. That it would be a miracle to have more than average grades. It felt that hard for me that I didn’t even dare to aim higher because I thought there’s no way for me to do that. Definitely, anxiety and sadness (I use this term in place of “depression” since I’m not clinically diagnosed) contributed to that kind of thinking and held me back, in general. But from what I know of myself and the things I did and didn’t do during college, I don’t think I deserve those academic achievements. Also, the label ascribed to me that resulted from those gave me so much guilt and pressure (for not doing what an “achiever” should be doing, for not excelling or going out of my way to engage in other academic activities, etc) and alienated me which I extremely hated.
So, basically, what I’m saying is that those academic achievements never made me feel accomplished. I felt like a fraud. I feel like a doll with medals hanging around her neck and paraded as if she earned those. I lived my whole college life in anxiety and sadness with a sprinkle of happiness and calm here and there. Those achievements resulted from my fear of failure. That’s it. Is that something worth celebrating for? They serve as a reminder of how scared I was back then. No, I am not being ungrateful by saying this. Yes, maybe I’ve become blind to my own self-worth (it’s what college and mental instability do to you). But when people congratulate me for those achievements, I feel awful. It’s so hard to say “thank you” for something that (you think) is not yours. I think because of this, I want to someday be able to do and accomplish something that I truly worked hard for and can be proud of. An achievement that I can claim as mine. 
Alright, I started on a negative footing, didn’t I? Ever since I entered college, it’s what I’ve been doing. It takes a lot of effort to see the positive light. Hahaha. Let me do what I do best and move onto a different topic without clear transitions. Yay! (-:
I’m happy to say that I went to uni purely to learn. I took up AB Sociology because it sounded interesting. I didn’t take it because I wanted to become a lawyer or a researcher or anything else. It was simply for knowledge’s sake. Not everyone can afford to do that. I’m lucky enough that my parents let me choose the degree that I wanted to study. Sure, sociology made me miserable (haha) but, god, I learned so much from it. Even now, I still have a lot to learn from it. I do think that the circumstances of our batch prevented us from learning enough (if only y’all know half of the drama we’ve had. Oh dear, I’m not sure you’ll ever hear the end of it. Haha). Nevertheless, I am very grateful for the knowledge I gained from the 4 years I spent in university. It opened my eyes to many phenomena and different realities in our society. I honestly feel enlightened. I can confidently say that I don’t regret taking up sociology. It’s really connected to everything in our life. I may still be a terrible writer but the perspective(s) that  sociology has provided me is something that has changed me for the rest of my life. One of my favorite professors once said that the only thing sociology can really give us is “critical thinking”. Not a high paying job or whatever. But that skill, to see and understand things from different viewpoints without biases, fuck, that’s so essential and I’d take that with me forever. I’ve always seen sociology as both a curse and a blessing, haha. I love it. (And that, my friend, is the first time I said that).
I never loved my university. I once thought I was starting to. The only thing I liked there is the library. I’m not kidding, hahah. And I liked some of my professors and my friends. But as a whole, I despise my school. As someone who studied liberal arts, that place is incredibly suffocating and repressive. To be fair, that makes it such a good place to learn sociology because you can literally see all the concepts that you study manifest around you. However, it’s also bad because you can’t have the freedom to put your learning into practice or else you’ll be punished by the school administration. To say that our academic life had been infuriating is an understatement. Then there are people that I met but are not friends with or just some things/situations I noticed while in school that I plainly admired. Those are the few things, moments and people that made my college life easier. They seemed so little compared to the ugly aspects but they’re what kept me alive. And that’s invaluable to me.
4 years at university... Looking back now, how did I ever get through it all? There were countless days and nights where the idea of making it to the finish line seemed impossible. But I did. Insanely and unbelievably, I did. How did that happen? So many days, weeks, months, and years filled with challenges and stress. I feel restless now. I can’t even remember the last time I really got to relax and not worry about meeting a deadline. 17 years of formal education finally coming to an end... that is nuts. What was the society thinking, structuring itself like that? phew
I’m definitely not like my other fellow graduates who are ready to gear up and build the career that they want. At least, not yet. I haven’t matured and grown enough. I still lack a lot of skills and knowledge. I do think that uni changed me for the better (more or less, haha). I know that education is a right but here in the Philippines, it’s become such a privilege. And I am beyond thankful to have been given that. Whatever happens from now, I hope I do right by myself, sociology, and my country.
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This is the only selfie I took in my phone during our graduation rites, haha. My family and friends have the rest of the photos. I don’t think I have a single photo where I smiled properly, save for the photos taken by the official photographers there. I was that enthusiastic about my graduation, haha
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Well done, self, though. You carried yourself through all that. What a fucking warrior, you are.
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Kaoru Info
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Full name: Kaoru Matsubara
Species: Human
Age: 13 - 18 ( verse dependant )
Sexuality: Heterosexual
FC(s): Kenna Yatsushiro ( Medaka Box ) || Hashimoto Ai
Bio: Kaoru is the second child in a family of five and the only female besides their mother. She grew up in a male environment, with a big and young brother, and a father who is also a boxer. Since she grew up in an environment like this, Kaoru got used to play a lot of sports, get dirty and do stuff usually aimed at boys. It didn't help that her hair is so short that for years she got her gender mixed up by strangers -- not that she cares that much. Kaoru is not especially girly either, wearing usually baggy clothes and loathing the idea of mini skirts.
Her normal life changed at the age of twelve when a light ray struck her -- as she protected a small child from sad ray -- which gave her unbelievable strength and other cool superpowers. And since she wasn't the only one, coincidentally two other girls from her school were in the same scenario, the mayor of Tokyo, along with the local professor Utonium, decided that they should make a super team. Thus, the Powerpuff Girls were born.
Note: Strictly anime based.
[ MAIN || INBOX || HEADCANONS || VISAGE || MUSINGS ]
                                 -----------------------------------------------
V001: Powered Buttercup
Default main verse. Kaoru lives a double life, balancing being a normal girl who plays a lot of sports (particularly soccer) and every couple of days she transforms to Powered Buttercup, one of the three Powerpuff Girls which are a group of superheroines who have been protecting Tokyo for a couple of years now.
NOTE: While her canon age is of a preteen (so 13) I leave it open to all her years of High School so it can be more interesting to me. So the age range can go up to 18, and her FC for her teen/young adult self is Kenna Yatsushiro from Medaka Box.
V002: Powerless but Still Feisty
Alternative main verse. What if Kaoru Matsubara never got hit with the white Z ray? This is basically an AU in which Kaoru never got superpowers and thus never became Powered Buttercup and a member of the Powerpuff Girls Z. Kaoru just lives her daily life as normal as she can manage with the occasional monster attacking Tokyo, not like she cares about that stuff. Having so much free times on her hands she and her family can manage to travel because of her father’s job as a boxer – so there’s a chance that the Matsubara siblings become transfer students every so often.
V003: Unsure About the Future
A young adult | college verse. Unlike her friends Momoko and Miyako, Kaoru never knew what to do with her life after High School, and even after graduating she lacked any clear answers. To not feel like a waste of space to her family, however, she searched for jobs and found one of her likings. At the local gym, she’s a trainee or assistant to the official teachers and helps the little kids (and sometimes adults) around with all kinds of sports – at least the pay is good.
NOTE: Age range between 19 - 21
V004: Aspiring Warrior
A fantasy or medieval verse. Coming from a large lineage of soldiers and warriors, it’s no surprise that all three children of Captain Matsubara would want to grow up and be just like their father – even his only daughter, Kaoru, wanted to be a warrior. It did concern both parents at first since women weren’t usually seen doing battle but as the years went by and the more determined she seemed to train and fight, they stopped doubting and began to trust their daughter.
V005: Butch Girls can Just Dance too
An idol verse. Kaoru Matsubara, the biggest tomboy known in her school, would be the last person to be found getting scouted to become an idol. But it happened. It’s real. And she’s just as confused as any other would be. How did it even happen? Well, it’s all thanks to an old friend of her mother who has worked on the idol industry for years, and suggested that despite not being all that feminine, there’s a market for butch or tomboy idols out there. Kaoru only said yes to shut him up, not realizing that sealed her fate.
Now, as a member of an idol group of three, herself going as Buttercup for her stage name, and with Momoko and Miyako as partners, who ported the stage names of Blossom and Bubbles, they became the Powerpuff Girls.
NOTE: The age range is of 15 - 18.
V006: Guitar Hero
A rock band verse. Music has always been a part of Kaoru’s life. Sure, she’s still the tomboy sports girl who kicks butt, gets angry very easily, and is more comfortable around boys, but another way of channeling her anger (and overall feelings) is by playing the guitar. She never saw herself forming a band, much less with two of her classmates, much less with two girls such as Momoko and Miyako, but it turned out to be a great partnership (and eventually, friendship). Now she gets to kick ass not only out in the field playing football or tennis, or by fighting back idiots, but by also rocking out with her guitar.
NOTE: The age range is of 15 - 18.
V007: I Am Thou
A Persona 5 verse.
Kaoru’s family had moved to Shibuya while she was still very young, in context, her little brother was still one-year-old. But Shibuya gave them a lot more opportunities in life, especially to her and her brothers. Still living in an apartment complex but with enough space for a family of five, and with enough kids on the neighborhood for the Matsubara children to play with.
During the beginning of her High School years, Kaoru was one of the most promising talents of the volleyball team, being able to hold her ground against girls and boys from Shujin Academy. That all changed, however, once Kamoshida entered the picture. She couldn’t pinpoint what irked her about the guy, as he seemed like a cool teacher, but decided to take no chances and stood her ground. It didn’t last for long, as she herself decided to quit the volleyball after one week with Kamoshida as the new coach.
Much time later is when she would find herself by accident in the Metaverse, soon to discover Sakamoto Ryuji and the new student with a weird looking cat and strange outfits. But most importantly, the surprise on her face at seeing the school as a medieval palace, and Kamoshida as his worst self, compared to no other. Learning what happened behind the scenes no much longer after she parted the volleyball team, the abuse of her classmates, what actually happened to the track team, the truth behind Sakamoto’s injury… it filled her with rage.
And then, she heard a voice coming from deep within her heart. It hurt like hell, like going crazy with madness, but it spoke clearly and with conviction. That voice knew what Kaoru wanted, what she wanted to do for so long ever since she laid her green eyes upon the shifty coach. A pact was made, a mask ripped off, and her true self finally blossomed. With a new outfit, a flashy mask, and a very large hammer, Buttercup the Phantom Thief was born alongside her Persona: Anne Bonny.
[ PHANTOM THIEF OUTFIT ] // [ MASK ] // [ ARCANA: CHARIOT ]
V008: Explosive Fighter
A My Hero Academia verse. No matter if it’s the strength of her father of the speed of her mother, Kaoru cannot use both at the same time. However, her stubbornness and anger make her continue to try to use both. It isn’t completely impossible to dominate both quirks and use them without much drawback, but she’s still young. Currently, she’s a first-year, struggling to keep her emotions in check when fighting.
Quirk: Lightning Bolt. Her parents had different quirks – her father having super strength while her mother was as fast as lightning. Unlike both of her siblings, who only inherited one of the quirks, Kaoru developed both. First, it was the super strength, which they discovered when she was able to lift the sofa with one arm, while both of her parents were sitting on it, at the age of four; the lightning speed cropped up one year later.
V009: Shugo Chara
to be developed better later but some important notes
no, she doesn’t have powers in this verse.
her wish, as much as she will deny it to the world, is for people, especially boys, to not forget she’s still a girl. that as embarrassed she may feel, kaoru does want to be treated nicely, to receive kind gestures, to be seen as someone desirable in a romantic way. but again, very stubborn about it.
her egg is, of course, green. well, the base is green with some different shades of it around it, but there are also some details in yellow, like the flowers spread around the egg.
her chara, after the egg hatched, is a female wearing a white dress and a flower crown on her head ( think of megurine luka’s white dress in “Just be Friends”). the hair, color green, reached past her shoulders. her name is Hana
                                 -----------------------------------------------
CONNECTIONS
The Powerpuff Girls Z :: [ Tammy ]
:: Kaoru ♣ One of a kind friendship ( PPGZ ) ::
:: Kaoru ♣ Extroverted leader ( Momoko : Blossom ) ::
:: Kaoru ♣ Kind fashionista ( Miyako : Bubbles ) ::
Butch :: [ Tammy ]
:: Kaoru ♠ Mean green bastard ( Butch ) ::
Leonardo Hamato :: [ Michi ]
:: Kaoru ♥ How do we rewrite the stars [ Leo ( xsunflowerr ) ] ::
Ryuji Sakamoto :: [ Josie ]
:: Kaoru ♥ Thunder and lightning;; it's getting exciting [ Ryuji ( galaxyveind ) ] ::
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kasmadzz-blog · 7 years
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The Boy At Fault For My Destruction
Early November of 2015, The 11th to be exact, I met someone who i would come to love and hate at the exact second. Yes, Yes, I know. Cliche right? Who wants to listen about someones first love. I was 15, and i had no clue what love even tasted like. I would soon compare the taste of love as the same taste you get when you bite your lip a little too hard and you start to bleed. This is the boy who officially turned me into an adult, and i'm not talking about with the sex, which was almost as shitty as he was. At 15 years old, my mindset was still football games on Friday night and J's place coffee shop on Monday mornings. I was still worried about the number of likes i got on my Instagram selfie and if I was going to be elected most aesthetic in photography club. I had a simple life and a simple mind. I forced myself to fall in-love with Wayne because i was in-love with the idea of love. I wanted something deep and emotional, turns out i got a little more than what i asked for. November 25th, 2015--I knew the relationship was damned when he cheated on me within the first two weeks of us dating. Even then, i managed to look past his mistake and move on with the relationship. Things were great for the next 6 months. I became unbelievably close with his family and was spending the night with him pretty much everyday during the week. Sleeping together, eating together, shopping together. It felt as if we had been married for years. We never fought, It was perfect, and most importantly it was everything i wanted. April 8th, 2016 -- He was drunk, high, and under lots of peer pressure, but that day, he ended what we had. Everything went down hill from that day. He cheated, again, with one of my really good friends. Wayne was my best friend, boyfriend, and support at the time. For him to know that i was dealing and going through a lot, and STILL do something that he KNEW would physically, mentally, and emotionally destroy me? Proved himself to me. That is when he had finally become the irony taste of blood in my mouth. Me being Madison, i again, looked past the fact that he cheated on me now for the second time. I was destroyed at this point. Him doing that to me, going through everything that i went through with my mom and dad, on top of shit going on at school? I thought it all was way too much for me to handle at once. April 24th, 2016 -- I tried to take my own life. I knew that he was toxic, that had been accepted as a fact. He was so toxic, that i didn't want to leave him, i wanted to stop breathing because of him. I felt worthless. I questioned what i did to deserve the pain that he had caused me. I dreaded getting out of bed in the morning. Moving my body to get from place to place felt like i had weights on my shoulders. He had manipulated me and physically abused me to the point where i thought that it was my fault. I thought that i was the reason he cheated on me. I convinced myself that maybe if i tried to be more attractive, and wore more makeup, maybe ate less, or even styled my hair a different way, that he would want me and not her. He would want to kiss and touch me the way that he did her. Maybe then, the heat of my body would be enough for him. But it wasn't, and never would be. May 27th, 2016— He graduated high school, and moved in with me. My trust for him was at this point completely gone. I would have moments of the day that i would want to leave him. I would want to kick him out and be done. But i never had the strength to do that. I could never build enough strength to do that to him. The look on his face when i raised my voice with him, broke me into small pieces. No matter how many times he had screamed, and yelled, and vocally abused me, i could never do that to the boy who held my heart in his palms. No one is perfect until you fall involve with them. I fell inlove with the way he fell asleep, slowly, than all at once. I was absolutely, completely, utterly inlove with him at this point. We traveled to almost every state in the continental US that summer. God we were crazy about each other. July 27th, 2016— It was my birthday. My sixteenth birthday to be exact. He ruined it. My birthday was about him, we hung out with his friends, we drank his choice of alcohol, and spent my birthday money on his choice of drug. Things changed that day. I met someone who didn’t have much relevance, and still doesn’t, but they sparked something in me that lit a fuse to a bomb that finally freed me. After i had that talk around 3AM on my birthday, wayne no longer controlled me. If anything, things got switched around. I gained confidence in myself again. I loved myself again. I worried about Madison again. My life meant something to me. I refused to let him manipulate me. October 15th, 2016— This was the day that he left not only mental bruises on me, but physical bruises on me. I have done my best to block that night out of my life, but we were fighting about something stupid, and i remember seeing this dark look in his eyes. That was not wayne. It was not the boy i fell inlove with when he was 17 years old, and left when he was 19. This was not the boy whose fingerprint i memorized due to him tracing my skin. This was now the boy who’s at fault for me flinching when someone puts their arm around me. This was now the boy that my dad had sworn to kill when i was a child, and this was now the boy my mother feared i would fall inlove with. I looked in the mirror at the bluish purplish bruises that somehow i found art in. I found art in his destruction. After that i knew one way or another, he had to go. He was no longer welcome in my heart, or in my home. I had to remove him from my familys lives, as well as my own. January 1st, 2017— My mother and father found out about his hand touching my face in another way other than to cherish it. He posted, Harassed, Exposed, Stalked, Followed, And threatened. He still does to this very day. Months went by and he still never gave up. He would hate me one week and want me the next. He didn’t know how to handle the fact that my heart was finally moving onto better things. Over the course of the next couple of months, i became Madison again. I gained my friends back, I did things for me. I went shopping, and drank the alcohol i wanted to drink, and spent my money on my choice of drug. He used to love my long hair. When i would try to leave the room if we were arguing, he would pull it and not release me until he was done yelling at me. I cut my hair to my shoulders. I dyed it even darker. I met someone completely awesome, and am in the process of falling madly inlove with someone who will leave nothing but love marks. Someone who is everything that he wasn’t. Someone who lets me know my worth by the hour, and doesn’t let me go a couple minutes without smiling. Moral of my story, Love is not toxic. Humans are toxic. Humanity itself is toxic. How to rid the world of humans ; you first rid the humans of their humanity. One way or another, you will get hurt. But it is whom you let hurt you, that effects your outcome. I suffered through mental, physical, and emotional abuse, something i wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. If you have absolutely anything in common with the words you just read, I’m beyond sorry. “Sometimes finding the light, consists of passing through the deepest darkness”
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saltycrow · 7 years
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An Ocean of Powder and Smoke by saltycrow
Fandom: Black Sails Word count: 1881 Rating: M Pairing: Eleanor Guthrie x Charles Vane Chapter One / ? Also on AO3 and fanfiction.net
Summary:  Modern AU. Eleanor Guthrie planned to go to college, to escape her life and family. Instead she finds herself caught up in a life of crime, and in the arms of a man who sucks her in deeper.
Eleanor had always been quick to anger. Sometimes she was able to keep it under control, but often that anger would spill over and manifest itself in unpredictable ways. Today was one of those days when she was coming scarily close to losing it. Sitting in the California traffic with a broken AC could have cracked even a soul much more peaceful than Eleanor. She gritted her teeth and tried to desperately feel a breeze by sticking her head out of the window. Torture, this was absolute torture, she thought. The line seemed to be moving at the speed of a tortoise and she felt like screaming. Nothing in here moved any faster than she did, until from the driver’s side a man on a motorcycle was making its way ahead of her. And suddenly she could no longer hold in her anger, it spilled, and before she knew it, she was honking her car horn at the man on the motorcycle, and then, flying open the door and getting out of the car to stand on the motorway. The man had come to a halt. He was on a shining Harley Davidson, wearing a black leather jacket with an image of a skull facing a sword printed on the back. His head was uncovered, his long hair on his shoulders. Slowly he turned around to look what all the fuss was about.
“Can’t you fucking wait for your turn like everyone else!” Eleanor found herself screaming. There was not an ounce of fear in her, her jaw set and her chin up in a defiant manner. The man slowly removed the Ray Ban sunglasses he had been wearing and unbelievably, cracked a smile.
“You can always hop on, angel,” he said and patted the seat on the back of his bike. Oh hell no, she was having none of that.
“Okay, first of all, I am not your angel, second, just wait in line like everyone else!” The heat outside the car was even more unbearable, as the direct sunlight hit her face, the curls framing her face seemed to now be plastered on to her skin and the redness that came with the anger was not a good look on her, but she did not give a shit.
“Now, why would I wait when I can just do whatever the fuck I want, angel?” his voice was hard and raspy. So deep it sent shivers down her spine even in this heat.
Perhaps it was the heat, or perhaps it was the undeniable attractiveness of the man in front of her, but she, for the first time in her life, was lost for words.
“Oh fuck you!” she shouted and pulled open her car door with considerably too much force.
“You offering? Cause you clearly need one,” he mused. She flipped him the finger and stepped into the car, slamming the door closed. The man put his sunglasses back on and nodded at her, then speeding away. Fucking asshole, she cursed and felt like slamming her head against the steering wheel. What a fucking morning. As the line finally started moving, she glanced at her watch. She might just make it to her high school graduation after all.
 Eleanor did make it, after all. She rushed through the high school hallways and into the bathroom to fix her makeup and do something with her hair, as it still seemed to be stuck to her face. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror and finally put on her gown and cap, placing the tassel on its rightful place and made her way outside to the lawn. She was met with a sea of students and parents already seated. Of course she saw no one familiar in the crowd. Six months in this place had not been worth learning anyone’s name or face. So she sat quietly on her allocated seat and paid no mind to the two strangers sitting next to her. The ceremony passes in a blur, names were called, names she had never heard before. She was positively surprised she even realized when her own name was called and the diploma handed to her by a white haired man with clammy hands. Once it was all over, everyone around her seemed to be hugging and congratulating each other. All she wanted was to get out of this place.
As she made her way away from the people she had gone to school with for a few months, she stopped in her tracks as she saw one familiar person, waiting for her on the edge of the lawn. She swallowed and stuck her chin up, making her way to him.
“Father, I did not think I’d see you here,” Eleanor said simply. Her father scoffed and looked at her disapprovingly.
“Of course I wanted to see my only child graduate. I am proud of you, Eleanor,” he said and she hated herself. Hated the fact that those words pulled on her heartstrings, that his approval was still something that she wanted, and needed. The emotions bubbling under the surface would never be revealed to the man in front of her, not if it was up to her. Before she could compose herself, he continued.
“You should run home and make yourself presentable, we have many highly esteemed guests coming to celebrate you. And do something with your hair,” he said while making a face of utter disapproval. And so, once again any hopeful feelings that her father might actually be something more than just the donor of half her DNA were trumped. She looked at him squarely in the eye and nodded. She would be there; she would allow herself to be paraded in front of these important people one last time. She would hate every second of it, but come fall, she was out of his house and all this would just be a distant memory.
 Her graduation party was everything she expected it to be. Her home was filled with solemn men in suits, their significantly younger wives in their arms when they slipped envelopes to her as discreetly as possible, while at the same time making sure everyone that mattered took note. She circled the room as a good upper class girl would, smiling the fakest smile to the people offering their congratulations. The champagne glass in her hand emptied fast, again and then once more. After an hour of polite mingling, she saw her father head to the door, shaking the hands of a man with long hair and facial hair. He did not fit, even if his suit was finely tailored. Her father occupied with the man, she saw her chance for a break and she slipped to the balcony, feeling the cooling night air brush against her skin. The sun had almost set, just an inkling of light still in the horizon coloring the sky to resemble a painting. Here she could almost forget the party in her honor, which in fact was just an opportunity for her father to talk business. There was no one here she knew, or cared about. She never felt so utterly alone than when she was among those people. Here, alone in the balcony, that feeling faded. Here she could breathe again. When she was alone, she did not have to pretend, she could just be.
The sound of the balcony door sliding open pulled her away from her thoughts, her back stiffening at the thought of inevitable small talk. Slowly she turned to face the person who dared to disturb her.
“Didn’t expect to meet me again, angel?” the man rasped, that smirk still plastered on his damn handsome face.
“You!” she snapped. It was indeed the man from this morning, the devilishly handsome asshole on the motorcycle. Only now he was standing on her balcony, wearing a well-tailored suit. All black, down to his shirt and tie. His hair was still open, the stubble still decorating his chin. Looking at him sent shivers down her spine, and oh how she hated her traitorous body for that reaction.
“Me. Truth be told, I did not expect to see you again, either. But I can’t say I’m not enjoying this,” he mused and moved to lean on the railing, staring into the horizon.
“What the hell are you doing here? And better yet, who the hell are you?” The man turned to face her, and it did not escape her notice how his gaze travelled from her eyes to her toes and back up again.
“Charles Vane,” he rasped and extended his hand. For a while she stared at the hand reaching for her, waiting, until she finally took it and shook his hand. His hand was large and calloused, strong and firm, making her feel like a dainty little girl compared to him. She pushed that thought out of her head.
“Eleanor Guthrie,” she stated, looking him in the eye. His eye brows raised at her remark and something resembling recognition set into his eyes.
“Then you are just the person I was meant to find,” he said and stuck a hand in his breast pocket and handed her an envelope, identical to the ones she had a two dozen in her purse already. In a neat handwriting it said Ms. Eleanor Guthrie on it.
“You work with my father then,” she mumbled, still staring at the envelope, trying to piece everything together. Her mind shifted to earlier today, to him on his motorcycle, wearing his leather jacket. It had had a club logo on it, she was sure.
“Something like that,” he admitted and she finally managed to look up to him once more. A silence fell between them, but soon enough he broke it. She was expecting him to congratulate her, just like everyone else, that’s how it went, a handshake, the envelope and their congratulations on completing this chapter of her life successfully. But he surprised her instead.
“Do you often throw tantrums on the freeway, angel?” he asked, a smirk playing on this lips. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to find her anger again, but failing.
“I am not going to apologize to you, if that’s what you’re aiming at. And stop calling me angel, asshole.” He threw his head back and laughed sweetly.
“I was not aiming for one. It’s just not every day a woman screams at me in the middle of traffic out of all places.”
“And where do they usually scream at you?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
“First they scream in my bed and then they scream because they were asked to leave,” he said with a straight face.
“I think people should scream at you more often in traffic, then. Perhaps help to shrink that ego of yours just a bit,” she said and crossed her arms on her chest.
“You can yell at me anywhere, angel,” he rasped, and with that left her standing alone in the balcony. Eleanor looked at his back disappearing into the crowd inside, feeling like this was not the last time she would come face to face with Charles Vane. And truth be told, she was looking forward to the next time.  
AN:  So, inspired by the start of s4 (and my disappointment in it) I finally started writing this. To be completely honest, I do not know where I am going with this really, or how long it will be, or how often I will be updating. Reviews however always increase my motivation to write, so leave a comment if you like :)
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Sylvia Acevedo talks to us about the power of Girl Scouts, encouraging girls to pursue STEM, and her new memoir, Path to the Stars
Sylvia Acevedo talks to us about the strength of Girl Scouts, promoting daughters to pursue STEM, and her new memoir, Path to the Stars
young women was considered as less than sons–less smart, less tough, less independent, less capable. Fortunately, there are strong women and women-led organizations that work tirelessly to educate young women that there’s no one behavior they should think, seem, behave, or feel. One such female is Sylvia Acevedo, CEO of Girl Scouts of the USA.
In her debut memoir Path to the Stars: My Tour from Girl Scout to Rocket Scientist, out now in both English and Spanish, Acevedo shares her expedition growing up in an underprivileged township in Las Cruces, New Mexico and becoming one of the first wives to analyze industrial engineering. Aimed at young readers, Acevedo’s memoir retraces her upbringing and recounts the sometimes sexist styles she was treated in comparison to her fucking brother. She also describes the enjoy she fostered for reading and learning, and explains the world of possibilities that Girl Scounts opened for her, her mother, and her younger sister.
From the moment they’re born, young girls are invariably compared to boys. They internalize gender stereotypes during formative stages in their lives that can affect them well into adulthood. Nonetheless, we’re stimulating positive strides in breaking down and dismis old-fashioned and patriarchal gender roles. From luminaries opening up about how they reject traditional gender personas when developing most children, to more academies making gym classes gender neutral, to publishing more books proving young girl they can be more than a princess or a ballerina, we’re keep moving the right direction.
With Path to the Stars, Acevedo continues to pave the way for young women to steer countries around the world with the confidence necessary to believe they’re capable of achieving anything. Clarion Booksavailable at Amazon | $12.32 Shop Now
The Latina rocket scientist and trailblazer acquired an unshakeable confidence when she joined the Girl Scouts as a child. Through the organization, she found a adore for amounts and science. Acevedo altered culture promises at school, at home, and in spaces she never felt she’d be participating in. She was the first Latina to graduate with a master’s in engineering from Stanford University, became a rocket scientist at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, operated as an engineer at IBM, and is a commissioner on the White House Initiative for Education Excellence for Hispanics.
We spoke with Acevedo about Path to the Stars, advocating for more young girl in STEM, and the lasting impact Girl Scouts has had on her life. From becoming fluent in English and falling in love with reading at her local library in Las Cruces, Acevedo’s tenacity is evident on every page.
#transformationtuesday Once a Girl Scout, ever a Girl Scout. @girlscouts
A post shared by Sylvia Acevedo (@ sylviaeliaacevedo) on May 2, 2017 at 10:45 am PDT
HelloGiggles: What inspired you to share your narrative? Sylvia Acevedo: I would be talking to students — over thousands of students — and one day I trod out and there was a line with about 300 students. I thought it was the line for lunch and it is about to change the information was the line of students that wanted to speak to me. So I bided and talked to every student, and I realized there was a real concern and a hunger for this story. At that time, I also recognized I can’t maybe reach all the children at once unless I write a volume. And that’s why I decided to write a book.
HG: Girl Scouts has had a lasting impact on you that widens through your adult life. Now, as the CEO of the organization, what are some of the ways you’re fostering confidence in young girl? SA: In the last two years that I’ve been CEO, Girl Scouts has announced more badges than any other date in time in its 106 -year-old history. What I recognized is that so many of those badges are engineering badges, because daughters are large-hearted consumers of technology, but they don’t inevitably have the skills to intend and develop. And that’s what we’re doing with our badges now. We’re teaching daughters about coding, cybersecurity, keeping themselves and their digital lives safe, learning to hack and to avoid hacking, learning about the great outdoors, learning how to see like a programmer or an technologist.[ We have] all these amazing these programmes and I know this is going to give them an advantage in life, just like Girl Scouts “ve been given” a big advantage in life.
I’m genuinely honored to be included among the unbelievable change-makers and innovators of @fastcompany list of the 100 Most Creative People in Business! This listing highlights the amazing task being done at Girl Scouts through initiatives like the G.I.R.L. schedule, our Girl Scout Network on LinkedIn, our STEM pledge, and so much more. Associate in bio .
A post shared by Sylvia Acevedo (@ sylviaeliaacevedo) on May 30, 2018 at 8: 03 am PDT
HG: As a young girl, whether it was at academy or at home, you forever noticed and tried to reject the gender roles and sexist ways you were treated is comparable to your friend and other young boys around you. How do you encourage young lady to speak up for themselves in these tough situations? SA: One of the great things about Girl Scouts is we really teach girlfriends about gallantry and trust, and really give them the skill to counsel for change that’s positive in their milieu. In Girl Scouts we’re all about leadership, teaching them how to be resilient, how to innovate, and how to work with other people so that they can really promote positive change.
HG: Are you working on any upcoming programmes or initiatives with Girl Scouts? SA: I’m specially stimulated about some of the fun paths we’re utilizing technology. So many young girls should be considered engineering and think it’s just about computers. But we’ve cooperated with the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York and talking about directions technology is being used in the fashion industry — that’s a three-trillion dollar industry–so it’s all about style, it’s all about clothes, it’s all about cloth, and technological sciences is now part of that. And I’m so excited at Girl Scouts that we’re thinking about ways to merge that so that more girlfriends understand how to utilize technology in all sorts of industries, whether it’s agricultural or even in fashion. So I’m provoked about the many world-wides of possibilities we’re opening hours for young girls.
Spending the morning with tomorrow’s presidents at the @girlscoutsnyc Women of Distinction breakfast .
A post shared by Sylvia Acevedo (@ sylviaeliaacevedo) on Oct 25, 2016 at 6:00 am PDT
HG: As one of the first member states of their own families to attend college, especially a top university like Stanford, did you suffer any senses of paucity? How did you cope? SA: It was a real startle. When I went to Stanford and watched high levels of competitor, especially at the alumnu grade, it took me back a little bit. I realise I was going to have to study and prepare at a degree I had never did before. I did miss my family[ back in Las Cruces ], but I was grateful that I had such great preparation. Girl Scouts had helped me learn how to really use resources well and how to work with other mentors in order to get the subsistence I needed to do well in such a rigorous academic environment.
HG: Path to the Stars is going to be published in both English and Spanish. Was that an obvious option? SA: It wasn’t obvious. I specifically requested the publisher to write it in Spanish. My first language at home was Spanish, and my parents fostered me to learn English and grow fluent in it. But I never lost the appreciation of learning and being bilingual, and I think it is such a competitive advantage for students designated as bilingual and bicultural in today’s global economy. So I really wanted to encourage students to speak my volume in English and in Spanish. If it is about to change that there’s a lot of family of theirs that simply speaks Spanish, then they’ll have the opportunity to read the book in Spanish.
Had a great day bridging with @girlscouts !
A post shared by Sylvia Acevedo (@ sylviaeliaacevedo) on Apr 30, 2017 at 11:40 am PDT
HG: What admonition would you give young women who are looking to pursue a job in STEM or engineering like you did? SA: One of the reasons why I wrote the book specifically for secondary school is because there’s still that opportunity they can take those subjects like science, math, and algebra that give them more choices in life. Because if you’ve taken those requirements as electives, you have a lot more choices of domains you are able to analyze. So I actually wanted to encourage them to continue to study those types of subjects in school, but even more importantly, to really believe in themselves and to not let go of their dreams.
Many times students look up to actors, musicians, and athletes because they feel like those are people that never gave up on their dreams. But what they don’t see is that there are so many other people around them, like myself and others, who didn’t give up on their dreamings either–they just had a different kind of dreaming. For me, I like math and science. I was organized, and because I continued to work hard, I had so many more the possibility of life. So I wanted to give kids hope that they can live out their lives and potential.
Path to the Stars is also available wherever volumes are sold.
The post Sylvia Acevedo talks to us about the strength of Girl Scouts, fostering girls to prosecute STEM, and her brand-new memoir, Path to the Stars showed first on HelloGiggles.
Read more: hellogiggles.com
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There was a crack in windshield 6 months ago. I have no ideal how it happened. Now it has gotten bigger and bigger. Would my car insurace pay to fix it now? I have AAA car insurance.
When will my motorcycle insurance go down?
I am 19 years old and I am on my second year of riding. I have no tickets or accidents (thank God) and I am still paying over $1,000 a year in insurance for my 250cc bike (2009 Kawasaki Ninja 250r).I have done some shopping and this is the lowest price. Allstate wanted $6,000, freakin unbelievable. I just wanna know when it will go down. Thx.""
Opening a company (California)?
What does one must have to register a small company in California specializing in recruitment/staffing employment? What type of Insurance (General Liability, Work Compensation) Approximate Cost. Tax id What is the approximate annual cost?""
If i buy a 2008 mustang what will be my insurance cost in california?
i am 18 years of age male have never gotten a ticket or never been involve in car accident have had my license since age 16 1/2
Can't afford the insurance on a car I just bought.?
I can't afford the insurance on a car I just bought yesterday, I had made quotes before and one of them was in my price range for full coverage since I am making payments but I didnt realize until now it was for liability. Am I able to take the car back with no penalty or will it hurt my credit?""
How much is car insurance for a teen?
I'm 16,I have a 2002 Camaro SS,I live in Las Vegas,Nevada.(don't stalk me lol).My dad has Geico insurance.What else do you need to know?""
Car insurance under parents name in a different state?
I go to college in Washington and my parents live in Hawaii. I was wondering if i could buy a car here with the title in my name and have the insurance in their name since my insurance rates are sky high.
Can there be two different auto insurances on the same car?
Im a new driver, im 17 and im in the state of illinois. I dont have a license yet, just a permit. My parents only have one car and i cannot afford my own at this time. My parents have allstate and their rates are too high for me. So i contacted another insurance agency and their rates for liability were lower. So, can one car be insured with two different insurances?""
Will I make my bf's parents' car insurance rates go up?
I've lived with my boyfriend and his family for a little over a year now(I pay rent). I am 19 and do not have my license. I have relied on carpools and the bus so it wasn't an issue. Now, I am planning to buy a used car, take the road test and get my own auto insurance. The thing is, they would most likely complain if this would increase their rates. I wish I could just pay a high rate alone- what would be the difference if I just rented a room in a strangers house??lol. I think that it would affect them, but does anyone know for sure?""
Car insurance for a teenager?
How much do you think insurance will cost (adding another car to my parents insurance plan)
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find cheap insurance quotes
Named driver car insurance?
My dad purchased a car and added me as a named driver. I use the car whenever he doesn't use it but as a majority he covers more miles than I do, some weeks it's 50/50 usage others I use it not as much. My dad is the owner of the car and the policy holder. He received a call from the insurance people and because he said we use it 50/50 some weeks they have now given him 7 days left before they are going to cancel the insurance. He payed this in fully and is only 2 months in. He recieved no terms and conditions, are they aloud to do this? Please help as he is isn't clued up on this and we both need to use the car. We were told that we need separate insurance for the vehicle which seems ridiculous seen as that would be double the price and not make any sense. He has his own other vehicle which he uses for work and I only use the shared car when necessary. Thanks in advance for any help. Ryan""
Car insurance?
i am a student, 20 years old, that cannot afford car insurance. Is there a state (ca) program or something for people with really low income?""
Best motorcycle to buy in Hawaii for college?
I prefer a Harley Davidson but any suggestions would be great. 0-2500$ must be good on insurance
Car insurance Questions?
I have comprehensive coverage (collision, fire, theft. etc)on my car it is a 2001 bmw 325 in very good condition, very little scratches inside and out. Mechanically sound. also well maintained and optioned if somebody was to rear-end my car (i live near the sr 91 in california, accidents everyday) what is going to happen? is the the one at fault's insurance company going to pay for the value of the car? since i pay comprehensive coverage? and is the value of the car based on pre-crash value or post cash value? what if i was to hit somebody's rear end? and is my insurance rate going to go up if i was rear ended""
What happens after you buy car insurance online?
Just curious as I'm planning on buying a years insurance for the first time in my life (I'm 17) from the post office website. Either that or could I pay at my local post office branch? I'm so close to getting my own car and then insuring it seems so simple that every time I think of it I start to physically shake!!! Thanks!
How much auto insurance do I need?
How much auto insurance should I get for a 1999 Ford Escort that is already paid for. I have insurance now but it is 660 dollars a year and that sounds like way too much for an 11-year-old car.
""You buy $89,000.00 in Insurance on your house. It burns down. What should the Insurance Company have to pay?
Got $89000.00 in Insurance and the place burnt down. Now the insurance doesn't what to pay.
What is an average g2 driver's insurance worth?
I Have: -G2 Lisence -2012 camaro ss -primary (only) driver of vehicle -driver's ed training. looking for average monthly insurance. im in ontario, canada.""
Can I buy Motorcycle Insurance for 3 months?
Is it possible for Geico to do that?
What is the cheapest sr22 insurance in california?
i had one accident in 2009 and i am currently paying the other party but i hadnt done it before and the dmv took away my license now i need to get a sr22 one but they keep on giving me car insurance quotes,, any help appreciated im 20 years old and dont own a car my uncle lets me borrow his""
Insurance for the self-employed.?
My husband is self employeed and we are looking for an insurance plan that will cover medical for the family, dental & vision. But we don't want to go bankrupt trying to get affordable insurance.""
""Car accident, driving record & Insurance?""
If car accident happended and insurance covered the damage, but at-fault violation is kept off the driving record with help of being first offender, then will it still affect car insurance rate even if switching previous insurance company to other? Do insurance companies share their custmer drivers' information?""
Can a lie about having historical plates for cheaper insurance?
When trying to get a quote from progressive online, it asks whether the motorcycle is registered as a historical vehicle. If I click yes the insurance is 50% cheaper than normal. Can I just click yes and buy then insurance, then register my bike? I don't have much money, and I only want to ride it for 2 months before I move.""
How do I get insurance for my new car?
Ok so I've been in the market for a new car and I've pretty much decided on a Honda Civic. I'm trading in the car that I currently have insurance for. Obviously you have to have insurance to drive off of the lot in your new car..So do I have to get all new insurance for my new car? How do I do that when I don't even have the vin or anything? Or does my current insurance count? Please help! Thanks
Looking for cheap car insurance.?
have a dodge avenger. and need suggestions for in expensive insurance
Whats the best vintage muscle car on insurance for a 18 year old?
ive heard that if a car had a smaller engine, 4 door instead of coupe etc. it would be cheaper on insurance. So i want to know what muscle car would be cheapest on insurance for a 18 year old.""
How much would car insurance be under my dad's policy? Or by itself under my name?
I'll be 21 in September and I'm getting a car really soon. I just have no clue how much the premium is going to cost me. I'm getting an older car. 100,000+ miles. So ...show more""
Does your car insurance rate go up if you get a seat belt ticket in illinois?
Does your car insurance rate go up if you get a seat belt ticket in illinois?
What should an out of state student do for insurance?
I've recently moved out of state from CA to UT to attend school. My mom just informed me that because I'm out of state I don't get my Medi-cal benefits and I can't apply for benefints here because I'm not a citizen of Utah. I tried to sign up for independent insurance through the CA affordable care act but because I'm 18 I can't. I have no idea where to go and my medical problems are worsening. Any advice would really help, thanks.""
I hit a parked car and damaged the front of my car. is it cheaper to go through insurance?
how do i find out if it is cheaper to go through my insurance company or to just pay to have my car fixed myself? the accident was my fault.
How much money can I save on my car insurance after completion of the pass plus course?
Give me examples of how much you have saved or a friend or something
California motorcycle/moped laws?
Hello, I'm moving to california from florida in a month to start college, and I intend to sell my car here and get a moped or a motorcycle over there instead to save a little money. I don't know the laws on motorcycles there? i know in florida if its less than 50cc you don't need a motorcycle license or insurance. what about california? if you need insurance how much $/year are we talking? I don't know squat about motorcycles and I've never even rode one or understood the whole gears thing. if someone could recommend a few brands or even whether to get a motorcycle or a moped/scooter (is there a diff?) i have a tight budget (1-1.5K) any advice would be awesome!!!! <3""
I need health insurance?
My boyfriend and I will be moving to NYC to start college next August. We will have very little money, and will have no form of health insurance. Here in California, we both have free insurance provided by the state, but we are barely eighteen, still in high school, and therefore still living with out parents. I suppose what my real question here is can we still get free state issued insurance if we have part time jobs and no children? Or do you have to have dependents to receive that? We both have serious stomach conditions, and are sick very often. We cannot be without health insurance. But we also could not afford to pay for it. Any help?""
""Where can I buy cheap auto insurance in Houston, Texas?Just moved here, only paid $30/month in California!?""
Want to buy cheap auto insurance in person! In California I paid $30 a month at a place that catered to poor people basically, but had good coverage for cheap. I am not interested in paying double online with Geico, progressive, etc (as the quotes I've gotten are). Where can I get cheap basic coverage in person in Houston Texas? Thank you.""
Is there anyway around this massive car insurance premium?
I have seen a beautiful 2.0L Ford Focus ST170 for 4000. This is a dream car for me right now, but after checking some insurance premiums, I have found that its more expensive to insure. I'm 18 with 1 years experience and 1 year of named driver experience discount. Even with that the premiums reach +4000. Am i just going to settle with a Zetec 1.8 Focus for 1300 a year? Thats the alternative...""
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find cheap insurance quotes
How much can I expect to get back from a written off car?
I wrote my peugeot 206 off last week the insurance are sending out a settlement figure as soon as they have valued it etc I was just wondering what sort of pay back you get im not expecting much but am hoping to get a new car with some of the insurance money the value of the car is about 2,500 before the crash.""
Do you have to get insurance before you can get a license plate?
I just bought a used car off of someone and drove it home. Luckily it was at night because the car doesnt have a license plate. This is my first car and none of my family seems willing to answer the phone today to help me. What am I supposed to do first? When I looked up the cost of plates, it said that when purchasing the plates insurance must be presented at the time of purchase. So that means I have to get insurance before I can get the license plates right?""
Did ObamaCare make my insurance costs go down?
Alot of people say healthcare cost will raise when Obamacare goes into efftect. But my healthcare costs has dropped from $1200/month to $400/month for the same coverage. I find it really hard to believe that Obamacare is bad. Also, Obamacare has not been implemented yet - why has healthcare costs has gone down""
Should I get health insurance?
I am an overall healthy guy, but I do spend $30 a month on a prescription for my disorder and I visit my doctor every 3 months for $60. Is there a health insurance that will reduce my cost or is it not worth it?""
What do all these terms for insurance mean?
So I'm in need for a dental plan because I've decided to fix my horrible misaligned bite. But I have no idea what all these insurance terms mean. Like deductibles, coinsurance,waiting period, etc http://www.ehealthinsurance.com/ehi/dt/plan-details?planKey=10116300:16 ^Here is a link for example. 40% Coinsurance after deductible 18 months waiting period < Can someone just give me a coverage on how insurance works. Thank you""
How much is it going to cost me a year for car insurance?
i will be 16 in august my car is a chevy cavalier im not sure of the year does anyone know how much it would cost a year for car insurance ?
What insurance companies cover home that have had multiple claims?
We have have 3 claims since 2008 and have been dropped. We cannot find homeowners insurance, and our mortgage company is going to force insurance, with no liability or personal property included, at 2 to 3 times higher premium. Anyone have ideas of insurance companies that would cover us?""
I have a question about auto insurance in Arizona.?
I am 18 years old and just obtained my drivers license. I do not own a car but I would like to use my grandparents jeep in times when I need to get to school. It wont be a routine thing just a back up plan in case I cannot find a ride. Do I need to get a non owner insurance policy to able to legally drive in Arizona or am I legal to drive without insurance as long as my grandparents have the car insured?
Cheep car insurance companies in London?
I am a new driver, Can someone advice me how can I get cheep car insurance and with who? Thanks.""
Car Insurance Company have had my car for OVER A YEAR.?
Ok, so this is a little complicated... Oct 2008 I had a car accident. My car was written off. My car was towed to a garage and was held there while the insurance company evaluated the damage. THAT WAS THE LAST TIME I SAW MY CAR. Because the size of my excess (800) and the amount of damage matched the value of the car (800) I was advised it would be pointless to claim on the insurance and it was written off. The accident was my fault and I held my hands up and admitted it and the other party walked away with everything sorted. No suggestion of fraud and certainly nothing fraudulent on my part. Towards the end of 2008 my insurance company started falling off the radar, not returning my calls or my emails, letters etc. I repeatedly asked what I was supposed to do next (I'd never had an accident before and the whole process confused me because they kept giving me conflicting info) and where my car was. I was ignored (or given incorrect info). In the end I declared a SORN on the car and had so much going on in my personal life, I forgot about it, knowing the car was off the road. Anyway, I'm now trying to track the car down as the SORN is about to run out. Insurance company are still off the radar and refusing to answer. Now they're saying they have no record of me, my policy OR my car. So I've lost my car, I don't know who's got it and yet I'm still liable for it. What can I do? Can I get the police involved? Trading standards? ANYTHING? I don't care about the car, whoever has it can keep it! I just don't want to be liable for it! By the way, the insurance company involved is SwiftCover.com, in case anyone is thinking of going with them because they're cheap. They're cheap because they're RUBBISH.""
Student health insurance?
Our son is going to United Kingdom for his Masters, we have health insurance thru my company but it covers very little over there, should we take out a student health insurance plan on him over there?""
Cheaper car insurance ?
Which insurance companies out of the major ones have you found that are the cheapest for a 19 year old on their own policy?
Does anyone know a reliable life insurance company that is also inexpensive?
Permanent Life Insurance, Term-Life Insurance, others, ect...For male, 56 years old""
Where can i get health insurance to cover accutane in nyc?
where can i get health insurance to cover accutane in nyc?
Scion tC...how much woul i pay monthly with car & insurance?
Im 19, been driving for two years, no accidents, no tickets or anything like that. I juss ont know how muc it woud be monthly. if anyone knows please.""
Car insurance is very cheap or very expensive?
Car insurance is very cheap or very expensive?
Should my car insurance go up this high after an accident?
I got into an accident where I hit someone s bumper in a parking lot. I reported to my insurance company and they took care of it with $750. I was 100% at fault, and expected my renewal to go up, but when it came out, it was $800, which is 100% more than my usual insurance of $400 Does it suppose to go up 100%??!!! And this price will stay on for 6 years!!! That means by the end, I would end up paying $1800 more just to the company!! $1000 more than what I would've paid the guy!! This does not make sense to me whatsoever, first I thought the renewal was just for one year, it will go down bit by bit, but second year is still the same price! I am only a G2 driver who been driving for 3-4 years on PEI in Canada, can that be the reason? Still, $1800 extra?? Plz help me and thank you!""
Car insurance for LHD car ?
Hi there, I want to buy 2001-2004 year freelander (left hand drive), then drive to my country and insure it. I need insurance what would cover for two months on UK roads. Do you know any insurance company what would offer as cheap as possible and the possibility to cancel my insurance after 2 months ? Regards, Ed""
Esurance insurance question?
Hi, I was looking into getting car insurance, and Esurance gave me a great quote for NYC. Can any one share any experiences with them, I wanna know what kind of company they are, how they deal with claims, and just over all how the company is. Any help would be appreaciated. Ty""
Do i need insurance to learn to drive?
I am a 25 year old living in Akron, OH and i was wandering if i need insurance to drive with a learner's permit?""
Anyone have/had Sameday Insurance?
I have Geico and thinking of switching to Sameday Insurance. I was wondering if anyone can give me reviews about them. They are offering a very affordable quote for a premium coverage.
Obamacare and still insurance premium skyrocketing?
Now that Obamacare has passed and in place why insurance premiums are still skyrocketing at record numbers? isn't it the main primary reason for (to have)obamacare is to curb the ever increasing cost of health insurance premium??
Car insurance for provisional license?
I have a Peugeot 807 2.2 and want to insure someone that has only got a provisional does anybody have any idea how much i would be looking at.The person is 35.
Does anyone know in detail what no fault car insurance is?
I am having a problem understanding no fault car insurance. Can somebody explain how it works?
I want to name my new insurance company?
i want to name my new insurance company
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find cheap insurance quotes
What is the average cost of general liability insurance for someone that does light field work like surveying?
Live in Oklahoma and do alot of surveying and consulting. Just wondering if anyone has any ideas about what it might cost to insure my employees against bodily damage ect.
Will my Car Insurance rates go up for 1 speeding ticket?
I just got a speeding ticket this morning (66mph in a 50). I have a really good record. Will my insurance go up? I have State Farm in Ohio. Thanks!
Car insurance questions?
I'm just coming up to the end of my first year of driving. My insurance is due on the 12th of December. I was quoted 1700 by my current insurer, which obviously, I'm not paying. I've now managed to get an insurance quote from Admiral for 680. My questions are; 1. No Claims Bonus - I'm on track to have 1 years no claims but obviously at the moment I wont have? I want to pay for my insurance ASAP so can I just put 1 years no claims on the form and put the start date as the 12th? 2. Do I need to tell my current insurer I wont be renewing with them? Is there some sort of automatic renewal system in place with car insurance companies? My dad threw the renewal letter out so I have no way to check myself short of ringing the company but I wont be able to do that until Monday and I kinda wanted to buy my insurance now.""
What is the cheapest motorcycle insurance in California or Los Angeles?
Is it more affordable to use a car or motorcycle in terms of gas saving and insurance? I am new to US. I want a reliable answer please.
Should I go through insurance?
Hi, Recently, I parked my car at my apartment parking complex and someone had scraped my rear bumper. I'd like to get it fixed...but I'm not sure if I should go through my insurance or not. I have a 250 deductible for uninsured damage which I think applies here under my policy. Will the rates go up if I go through my insurance company for stuff like this? Because if so, I'll just shell it out of my own pocket. I'm not sure which way to go here. Thanks for helping me out.""
M2 and G1 car insurance?
As I noticed in drivertest.ca site that if you a holder of M2 you can drive G class vehicle under the condition of getting G1. So that means M2+G1 == G2 in one way (I mean G2 won't equal M2 + G1) So anyone have an idea how much insurance I have to pay for getting a car (i know a lot of details here but consider cheap car and no experience at all)? This info about M2 + G1 = G2 is from here: http://www.mto.gov.on.ca/english/dandv/driver/gradu/index.shtml Note: Class M2 and Class M licence holders may also drive Class G vehicles under the conditions that apply to a Class G1 licence holder. Thanks in advance
Im looking for people with private health insurance or no insurance?
if you have medicare, medicaid, or group insurance at work, dont answer. was it difficult to get insurance? who is ur carrier? do you have pre existing conditions?""
""Im getting quotes for well over 4,000 for car insurance is this right?""
Im getting quotes for well over 4,000 for car insurance is this right? My grandson is 17 and has passed his Advanced driving test. He has a VW Polo. Would he be able to be put on my insurance as I have 5 years no claims. Would this lower his by much? He has also been driving cars/tractors around a farm since he was about 13 would this make a difference? Thanks""
Want better insurance coverage??
It looks like that because of the conflicting passages in the ACA that you just might be able to qualify for better coverage by renouncing your American citizenship. http://blog.heritage.org/2013/11/27/obamacare-undermines-american-values/
What insurance companies are cheap for young drivers that have 6points due to non insurance?
What insurance companies are cheap for young drivers that have 6points due to non insurance?
What would be the insurance of a teen driving a 2004 Toyota Camry?
My 16 year old daughter just got her lisence and i want to put her on insurance right away. I just need the range of about how much this would cost me.
Can you get a car without insurance?
b/c im getting a car without insurance
Boss mustang & insurance?
here's the thing. im 16 and live in VA. im saving up to get my dream car, a 1971 boss mustang. ive had my permit and hopefully about to get my license next month. everything would be perfect if it wasn't for the insurance price. are there any discounts that are available that would help out a lot? and does it cost anything if i just get my license and for now not drive? if so around how much? thanks a bunch in advance""
How much would it be to insure a Datsun 280zx for a 16 year old in NC.?
I have a mustang but v6 want a little more, but worried it might be to much to do right now.""
How can i get health insurance?
Hello I am 18yrs old and i am trying to get health insurance. I am a full time student. My mom is does not have health insurance either, Her income is really low and i dont have any income coming in.. Is there a health insurance that is right for me? Please answer""
Will I be covered by my parents auto insurance for an accident if im not on the policy?
I was in a car accident last night while driving my parents insured car. I, however, am not on the policy. I am 23 and live in my parents household. I have my own seperate insurance for my vehicle, which I was not driving due mechanical issues. This is the only time I have driven my parents car. Will either my parents or my car insurance cover the accident? This is what happened: I hit a car who made a left in front of me while driving through an intersection. The light was green, I had the right of way. When the police arrived the individual whom I hit admitted he had been drinking and was a marijuana user. The police arrested him and towed his car. The officer disclosed that the individual did not show proof of insurance. Also, there was a witness (the driver in the car behind me) who pulled over to check on us. He had told the officers what happened which verified my explanation of the event. I live in California, if that helps. If anyone has any advice for this scenario, please advise me on how I should proceed as I have never been in this situation. Thank you""
Does your car insurance premium rise after a heart attack(UK)?
my parents are wondering what happens after you have been discharged from hospital, and the 4 weeks or so passes, will the premium for domestic car insurance rise or stay same or what? anyone know ?thanks""
Young motorcylist trying to get car? Stupid insurance?
I want to swap my motorcycle for a car, as I need to drive to university one day a week and I want a car for the motorway (Safer during gusts & ICE). But..... the stupid insurance companies take no notice that I've been driving for two years, and want to charge me 3500!!!!! For an 800cc CAR!!! WTF?! For a 600cc bike, it'll cost me 450! Let's compare: 600cc BIKE (0-60 in 2.5 seconds, tops out at 130mph, worth 2000) 800cc CAR (0-60 in 17 seconds, tops out at 82mph, worth 850) Which one do YOU reckon should be cheaper?!!!!?? So, how do I get an insurer to actually realise that I've been on the road for two years, have a full motorcycle license, and that my insurance shouldn't be so STUPIDLY, RIDDICULOUSLY expensive?! Without fronting on my dad's policy :P BTW, adding parents as a named driver only reduces it by 300...""
Has anyone moved to pennsylvania from new jersey?
i was considering moving to pennsylvania because I've heard the cost of living is a little less expensive than what it is in NJ.And I see alot of people are living in PA that commute to work in NJ/NY so there must be some reason people would be willing to make such a long commute just to live in PA.I live in Northern NJ somewhat close to Newark with my parents and i wana move out but cant afford the rent in NJ.I need some advice and opinions on whether moving will be better or will I be better off staying in NJ.Ive been considering also Washington DC, Maryland,Virginia. Can anyone tell me what towns in PA are cheapest to live, is car insurance cheaper than NJ etc. things like that.Thanx in Advance. O yea and if i wanted to keep my job and commute how far is the drive from nj to pa.i work close to NY""
Does anyone know the average insurance quotes for 2007 Nissan Altima in Wisconsin?
Does anyone know the average insurance quotes for 2007 Nissan Altima in Wisconsin?
If i get my medical card in california will my parents see it since they pay for insurance?
I am about to get my card and i was wondering if my parents will see it, since they still pay for my insurance.""
What exactly do they do for the exam for life insurance?
What exactly do they do for the exam for life insurance?
Car registration and insurance on different names?
Ok. I'm plnanning on buying a car next week. I have a question. Is it possible to buy insurance on her name and then register the car on mine? If yes please tell me how?
Does the owner of the car have to be insured?
I drive my sister's car and my sister lives in a different country. Does my sister have to be insured since she is the owner? I am insured..
Auto insurance broker fee in CA?
Hi I live in CA i just bought a new 2012 hyundai and went to get insurance through Freeway Insurance and I signed up for a 12 month premium with Farmers they did not tell me anything about a broker fee until after i signed all the paperwork. I am 20yrs old and paying $220 a month for full coverage. They charged me a $275 Broker fee I just want to no if this is even legal or if they ripped me off! I walked out spending $560.00 Are they allowed to charge such high fees I will call my credit card and have them refund it immediately if they ripped me off. Please help. Open to all answers thankyou!
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find cheap insurance quotes
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