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#when i was powering off my computer i realized i was nearly done w this so i finished it yay
voraciousvore · 5 months
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Big Corp Inc. (12/43)
Chapter 12: Overtime
Candy had been stuck in the refrigerator for long enough that the work day was nearly over. She had not gotten much accomplished work-wise, regrettably. Martin had done his best to clean her off, but her clothes were still soaked and reeked of gastric juices. Her shoes and socks in particular were sopping wet. Every step she took squelched and left a puddle on her desk. She decided it would be worth it to change back into her heels, as uncomfortable as they were. She swapped out her shoes and hustled to get as much done as she could. She wished she could change her clothes out too, but she didn’t have a spare set and it was almost the end of the day regardless. She decided to power through. 
As the workday drew to a close, the ominous shadow of her Giant boss stretched over her desk again. She turned around and reddened. From the surface of the desk, she was level with his crotch, and she found herself face-to-face with Mr. Hardon’s gigantic hard-on, barely contained by the fabric of his pants. 
“Caaaaandy!” he sang in his sonorous voice. “Time for overtime!” 
“I’ll get right on it!” Candy hastily assured him, spinning around so she wouldn’t have to keep staring at his huge erection, and gave her computer her full attention. However, she was startled when Mr. Hardon plucked her up off the desk between his thumb and forefinger. She looked questioningly into his Giant face. He was grinning mischievously, from ear to ear. “Mr. Hardon, what are you doing?” 
“We agreed you’d do overtime. I never said you’d be working at your desk!” he explained with undisguised glee. Candy felt her stomach drop as he took her into his office and closed the door behind him. She realized right away she was in the danger zone. This man was way too horny to have innocent intentions. 
“H-hold on!” she protested. “I never agreed to this!”  
The Giant raised his eyebrow. “I disagree. I’m your boss, and you’ll do whatever I ask of you when you’re on the clock.” 
Candy wracked her brains for any way to get out of her predicament. “Um… but I’m not wearing my sneakers! I’m wearing my heels instead. So I’m not obligated to anything!” 
Mr. Hardon shook his head. His roguish smile didn’t budge. “I gave you permission to wear different shoes. Whether you availed yourself of the privilege or not is immaterial.” 
Candy bit her lip. “Well… I changed my mind! I don’t want it anymore! The deal’s off! No overtime.” 
Mr. Hardon was beginning to get irritated with her stalling and excuses. “Why can’t you just cooperate for once?” he asked with mild exasperation. He flopped down in his chair, leaned back, and spread his legs. “I’ve been waiting for this all day!” He massaged his sizable package with his free hand as he brought Candy up close to his mouth. His large nose wrinkled up. “Ugh. What is that smell?” 
“Oh… I’m covered in vomit,” Candy confessed sheepishly. “One of the Giants in the office accidentally swallowed me earlier and had to throw me back up.” 
“Are you serious? Yuck,” Mr. Hardon remarked, full of revulsion and devoid of any compassion. “Gross. Is that why you’re all soaking wet?” 
“Yeah,” Candy admitted. 
The Giant seemed to deflate a bit. Whatever he was planning to do to her, the prospect of doing it while she was saturated with puke was unappealing. “Perhaps we can push this back to another time,” he muttered with disappointment. He set her on the floor, in between his Giant shoes. Candy seized the opportunity to scamper away, but she stopped at the Giant door to his office. She still needed a Giant to help her out of the building. She reluctantly looked back at Mr. Hardon. She really didn’t want his help, but she figured her coworkers probably rushed out for the weekend. 
“Um… Mr. Hardon? Can you help me with the elevator?” Candy asked with embarrassment. She was reminded of the last time she was in the elevator alone with him, and the pervert licked her. At least with her smelling and tasting unsavory, he wouldn’t want to do anything like that to her again. She realized Martin Maneater had unknowingly protected her from further insidious abuse by ingesting her, ironically. 
Mr. Hardon sighed. “Fine. Goodness, Candy, you’re so helpless.” He got up out of his chair and opened the door for her. Candy walked out the door, but due to her small size she was taking too long, so the Giant became impatient and scooped her up off the floor with his hand. He marched over to the elevator and hit the button. He seemed mildly disgusted with her. While Candy was grateful he wouldn’t mess with her, she was nervous about being in the palm of his huge hand when he was clearly annoyed. She didn’t think he would hurt her, but she still felt very puny and fragile. 
“Why aren’t you using the human elevator anyways? Why do I have to do everything around here?” the Giant grumbled. 
“Oh... the human elevator doesn’t work. I tried pressing the button and nothing happened,” Candy explained. She didn’t bring up to him that he had failed to show her where the human elevator was to begin with. Mr. Hardon grunted but didn’t comment anything else. Candy considered asking him if there was some way the mini elevator could be fixed, but she refrained. She absolutely did not want to ask the boss for more favors that he could demand “payment” in return for. She shuddered when she imagined what he might have done to her in the privacy of his personal office.  
Her boss at least had the decency to drop her off at the railway station, rather than leaving her at the threshold of the elevator downstairs. He stood up out of his crouch and waved at her dismissively as he strode off. Candy hustled into the railway car that pulled up, shaking her head. He was unbelievable. She couldn’t believe she had to contend with such a ridiculous boss. As she rode the railway car home, watching the Giant scenery race by in a blur, the realization sank in that she had barely managed to escape what could have been something truly horrible. 
Candy got home and cleaned herself up. She was exhausted after her crazy, strenuous week. She didn’t want to think about her horrible boss. She laid down in bed and instead found herself thinking about Martin. She was developing a crush on him, a fact which slightly scared her considering he was literally large enough to swallow her whole. However, she knew he was sweet and shy and gentle and wouldn’t eat her on purpose. She regretted not asking him for his number; she wanted to get to know him better. She wondered if she had any chance with him, as a human, since he was a Giant. Would a huge Giant like him be interested in dating a tiny girl who was not even as tall as his pinky finger? 
Candy, admittedly, did not have the best luck with love in her life. While she was blessed with a beautiful face and sexy body, her stunning physical attractiveness often left her at the mercy of sleazy men who would use her and dump her. She had a sweet, bubbly, extroverted personality, but her innocence and lack of intelligence made her easier to manipulate. She had a kind enough heart to give anyone a chance, but she tended to get in trouble with seedy men whom perhaps she should not have given the time of day to begin with. She was not the best at discerning obvious red flags and situations she should avoid, as evinced by her persistence in working at Big Corp Inc. Her love life, in this regard, was no exception. 
The weekend went by all too quickly, and Monday rolled around before Candy was prepared. She at least had time to rest her strained muscles and allow her feet to heal, though not as much as she would have liked. Her work clothes were fresh and clean, though hardly a pleasant shade with all the permanent stains they had accumulated over the prior week. She prepared for her day in the usual manner, and made sure to bring her high-heeled shoes in her backpack. She needed to be on her best behavior so she wouldn’t get in any trouble with the boss. 
When she got to the Big Corp building, she was lucky enough to run into Bianca in the lobby, who was kind enough to pick her up and give her a ride to the third floor. “Hey, Bianca,” Candy inquired, “Do you know Martin? Martin Maneater?” 
Bianca thought for a moment. “I know whom you’re referring to, but I’m not too familiar with him. He seems like a pretty quiet, introverted guy so he hasn’t talked to me much. He tends to keep to himself for the most part. Why do you ask?” 
“Oh. No reason... I was just curious.” Candy tried to shrug it off like her question was no big deal, but a rosy blush still permeated her cheeks. 
The Giantess examined Candy closely, down in her hand. “Candy! Are you... blushing?! Oh my gosh, you have a crush on him, don’t you?” 
Candy covered her face with her hands, smiling wide. “Yes. Yes I do! Bianca, is it hopeless? Would a Giant ever date a human?” 
“It depends on the Giant, to be honest. Some are open to the idea, others not,” Bianca admitted. “I don’t know the object of your affection well enough to tell you if he’d be interested.” She paused. “I’ve dated a human man before. It was... interesting.” 
“Wow, really?” Candy asked, amazed. 
“Yeah. We happened to match on a dating app and ended up meeting in person. It didn’t work out for us though. I think he was a bit too self-conscious about the size difference. I tried to explain to him that size didn’t matter to me, but he had some sort of inferiority complex about it. I believe he was above average in height for a human, so to be suddenly dwarfed by a Giantess like me was jarring and emasculating for him. He eventually ended up breaking off the relationship. Unfortunate, really. I did like him.” Bianca looked mournful at the recollection, her hazel eyes distant. Candy rubbed her palm gently to console her. 
She brightened up. “I bet you and Martin would make a cute couple though!” Candy beamed and giggled at the thought. She imagined going on a date with Martin: riding on his big shoulder as he walked, snuggling up to his warm neck, rubbing the stubble on his chin with her teeny hand. Maybe even... kissing him?! She had to keep herself from squealing with delight. Her wholesome fantasy didn’t jump to the next step after that. She was a pure, sweet romantic at heart. 
“From what I do know about him... he does seem very reserved. If you wish to court him, you might have to be more forward in your pursuit. I doubt he will take the initiative, even if he is interested,” Bianca explained. She thought for a moment. “I’ve seen him eating sugary snacks around the office quite often, like cookies and pastries. He must have quite a sweet tooth. He works a lot of overtime too. Other than that, I don’t know much about him.” Candy processed this new information. Flirting wasn’t hard for her, but the issue was of course complicated when she had to hike a mile in heels to reach her crush’s desk. 
By now Bianca was at Candy’s cubicle. She lowered her hand to the desk so Candy could dismount. “Have a good day,” she said with a smile and wave. “And good luck!” The human waved back as the Giantess departed. Candy was so happy, hyped up on honeyed fantasies, she couldn’t see any way for her day to possibly go sour. 
Chapter 13
First Chapter
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Sapphic September prompt 19- "Seems like we'll be here for a while."
Ingrid Rosworth/Reader
WC: 1.3k (almost. Wtf. /pos)
Contains: getting stuck in an elevator, Ingrid is sus, shy!reader, a meal is mentioned but no details, what else does one talk about when ur stuck in an elevator w your superior and you also have a crush on them????.
Type: suspense ig?, wlw, stuck in a small space
AN: I admit I was exciting for this one bc like its Perfect ok for stuck in an elevator. Also a lil sprinkle of more suspicious (read: vampire???????) Ingrid if you squint. Btw, there's a y/p mention: this means your/pronouns. I didnt want to just do she or they. Sorry if it makes it get clunky... I did my best. Anyway. Mommy? Please!!!
Summary: Reader and Ingrid get stuck in an elevator... how else can you pass the time with your superior?
                                   ~-*-~
The storm battering the office window seemed miles away as you typed away on your computer working on a case. The office was finally quiet after an unproductive day so you had decided to stay late and work in the peaceful space.
After a few hours had passed, you were satisfied with the amount of work you'd gotten done and glanced toward the window. Rain patterning against the glass and lightning flashing in the distance made you realize what time it was- late.
You packed up your things and turned off your computer, and went to retrieve your lunch container from the kitchenette. As you left, you saw someone or something in the corner of your eye.
When you returned to your desk, you checked the time. It was nearly nine in the evening- there's no way someone else stayed this late.
You grabbed your things and made your way to the elevator. As you entered it, you heard someone call to you,
"Hold it, please!"
You reached out your arm to stop the elevator doors from closing, and immediately worried that the thing you'd seen was what called for you to keep the elevator open.
But then you saw who it had been.
Ingrid Rosworth stood outside the elevator and then smiled as she entered. "Thank you," she said sweetly.
She pressed the button to the garage while you had selected the lobby.
Of course she had a car to drive herself. Why would I think we could walk together to the train? You wondered what kind of car it might be.
For what should have been a couple minutes ride in the elevator at most came to a shuddering halt.
The elevator stopped, the lights went out and the emergency lights flickered on.
Ingrid still seemed to glow in the red emergency sign light.
You shivered, she sighed.
"That damn storm..." she muttered.
"How long... do you think the elevator will be out? Should we do something?" You asked. You looked over and up at her, willing your heart to quiet down.
She always caught your attention anyway, her outfits impeccable and hair cascading perfectly around her. She was beautiful and intelligent, and powerful as a well-known lawyer.
You had nearly finished your graduate degree, but you were still far behind her in status. You knew you shouldn't put her on a pedestal, but you also knew you paled in comparison standing beside her.
While othe peers were eager to speak with her and gain advice, you were often too intimidated to do the same. It wasn't really fair to her; you were sure she was approachable. Just... not to you.
Not when sometimes you'd catch her eye by accident and look away, hoping your blush wasn't visible through your light makeup.
"Are you alright?" She asked, leaning toward you a little and raising a hand as if to brush hair out of your face.
"Oh!" You blushed, hoping this time the red light made the blush imperceptible. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. You?"
She chuckled. "You just seem a little nervous."
"I- yeah, I am, I guess," you confessed.
"I was asking you what you were doing here so late."
"Oh, uh, well, I wasn't able to get a lot done today, so I decided to stay late."
"Were you the one who ordered dinner at seven?"
"Yes, that was me," you nodded, then frowned. "How did you know?"
"I smelled it," she shrugged.
That didn't make any sense. Her office was in the opposite corner of your desk. Maybe she had stopped by the files and the smell had drifted over there... Still, it was strange.
"Did... you get anything to eat?" You tried to make conversation. The minutes were beginning to stretch, especially as you kept your imagination at bay. From fantasies or nightmares alike.
She smiled and nodded. "I certainly did."
A few minutes passed and she stepped forward to try the emergency radio.
"Hello?" She asked. No response. "Hello, this is Ingrid Rosworth in elevator three-one-six, from Baldr Legal? Is anyone there?"
Silence, not even static. She sighed and shrugged as she put it back.
"Seems like we'll be here for a while," she said. She turned to you and smiled, then gestured with her hands to the floor. "Shall we sit?"
"I've been sitting all day," you shrugged.
Your mind was racing. You had to admit you were worried. There was plenty to be anxious about, and while you weren't claustrophobic, being stuck in an elevator was far from your bucket list.
But then again, you didn't mind that it was with Ingrid. You didn't look at her as you leaned against the back wall, but you knew she had her legs crossed and stretched out across the floor. You wondered what she was thinking about. You wondered if she went home to an apartment or house alone, if someone was waiting for her. You knew you didn't have anyone at home, and would probably head to bed shortly after you got home. You wondered if she what she would do once she was home... does she shower in the evenings? With that gorgeous hair she must have some sort of hair routine.
"Y/n?"
You blinked your eyes open and looked down at her.
She chuckled again. "You seem to daze off easily."
"S-sorry," you muttered, embarrassed.
"You need to relax, Y/n. We'll be out of here in no time, just fine."
It was a kind gesture and attempt at reassurance, but you had to admit you were still nervous.
"Tell me about this case that got you so focused," she smiled. "It'll distract you."
You were thankful for the excuse. The case was interesting enough, it just called for more attention than you had been able to give it during the busy day.
She nodded and hummed along to your reciting of the case and its details, recounting the information you had just poured over.
"You're really good at this, you know," she said gently. "I'm glad I have you here at Baldr. Perhaps we can work on a case someday."
The idea was exciting for sure. Spending more time with Ingrid would be wonderful, especially if you got to know her a little more.
"What were you-"
The emergency lights turned off and the normal lights turned back on, the elevator continuing its journey downwards at its usual pace.
She took your hand that you offered to help her up, and you couldn't help but notice she seemd a little disappointed.
The elevator doors opened at the lobby and there was a security guard waiting there. He apologized to Ingrid profusely, rambling an explanation about the storm and power, etc, and that the radio in our elevator hadn't seemed to be working.
Once he was finished, she said, "you should apologize to Y/n as well. Y/p (was/were) in the elevator with me, suffering the same fate."
He turned to you and apologized, even if it was a little less enthusiastic. He then asked if he could escort you to your vehicles.
You explained you didn't have one, but thanked him anyway. Ingrid dismissed him, then turned to you.
"I wish you well on this case, Y/n," she said. "Make me proud."
It was a strange request, as you worked for Baldr rather than her, but you nodded and assured her that you would.
As you walked toward the doors to go to the train, you couldn't help but feel watched. You admitted to yourself you were disappointed that you hadn't said something or maybe even kissed her, but it was too risky. If you had made a mistake, you might lose your job.
You didn't mind her gaze being on your backside as you left, hoping something might happen another day.
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dwaynepride · 3 years
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how was i to know?
summary: reader has a weird dream about gibbs.
have you ever done anything for the ‘ya know what kind of wood this is’ Gibbs dream that both Quinn and Palmer had?
words: 1700
warnings: slight nsfw
tags: @fairytale07​ @jrenn10​ @f4nboi​ @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove​ @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05​ @consultingdoctorwholock​ @kittenlittle24​ @24601error-prisonernotfound @andreasworlsboring101​ @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​ @ms-allenbrown​ @ikbenplant​ @dylpickles1267​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​ @pageofultron​ @stanathanxoox​
a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve posted. this isn’t beta-read so ignore the typos. be free, my thots.
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Your eyes just weren’t focusing anymore.
It’s been hours (don’t ask how many) since you’ve sat down at your desk to read over case files. The bane of a federal agent - chained to their desk and forced to go over every scrap of evidence and testimonies to find anything useful and it’s the burden placed squarely on your shoulders for today.
Usually, you have tricks to help when the words start blending together. Getting some coffee, going for a walk, visiting Abby because she’s the physical embodiment of caffeine and normally wakes you up.
But nothing helped. And the words kept swimming over the screen.
You’re not learning anything new from sitting here. But with the team hitting a roadblock in the case, what else is there to do? 
Again, you start reading the paragraph that you’ve been trudging through for the past twenty minutes. But this time, as your focus wavers, it’s not because of the headache or the tension in your eyes. The sudden presence on your right is what stops your reading. It’s warm. All-encompassing. Brings over the soft smell of sawdust and aftershave and as soothing at the presence is, it’s a shock to you.
Because you could have sworn you were alone in the bullpen - staying behind while the others went off to find new leads.
Your eyes move off the computer screen, meaning to glance over to the presence. But you never see their face because they’re suddenly leaning in. Hovering over your shoulder, shrouding you from the harsh office lights, and you reckon if you take in a big enough breath, you’d be able to feel the warm presence pressing against your shoulder.
Their face was a mystery, and yet, you can feel a pair of eyes watching you - hard, steely, freezing you in your chair.
And without warning, a hand comes to rest on the surface of your desk, next to the keyboard. A worn, scarred hand that you recognize with a jolt. The named of its owner lies on the tip of your tongue, but it never comes out - like a secret you’ve sworn to keep.
His fingers curl a bit, knocking lightly against the top of your desk. The sound could’ve easily been mistaken as the pounding of your heart, if one listened close enough.
“You know what kinda wood that is?”
The voice mumbled against your ear is low and deep. Sounding like a bass drum and its sound reverberates through your body and you’re pretty sure it’s the reason why your hands are suddenly a little shaky. 
“W-wood?” You manage to echo back. A single word, hoping for clarification because your brain is moving at a snail’s pace. You’re simply too preoccupied on the warm, wet breathing that wafts over your neck.
His fingers start tapping against the desk in some unknown rhythm. And your eyes watch them move, entranced, and you keep telling yourself to look away and focus on something else but it’s much too easy to just keep staring. “Yeah. You outta know.” His voice is closer. More hushed. And that’s because his lips are right against the shell of your ear and his breath is blazing hot.
And through it all, you can catch the faint scent of bitter coffee and it only makes your skin tingle even more.
You suppress a shudder, if only to deny him the satisfaction of feeling it.
His presence somehow keeps growing larger - more encompassing, like a storm cloud rolling over the city. The words on the monitor; they don’t exist. There’s no more Naval Yard or team of federal agents or a whole case to solve. 
It’s just you, him, and the hard, cold press of the wooden desk keeping you here. 
Finally, you turn your head towards him. Words form on the edge of your tongue - stern words of annulment and to tell him you’re too busy for his games.
But then you meet his eyes. Head on - and they give you pause. Frozen in place, as if the icy blues really could chill you to the bone. So close, you could catch faint flecks of gray and gold floating around in the ocean of light blue and this time, it’s impossible to push down the shudder.
Now, his breath wafts over your lips slowly in his careful exhale, sounding almost disappointed and you’re shocked at how much that thought troubles you.
“Want to get a closer look?” He mumbles, eyes falling blatantly to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze.
A closer look? Damn him. 
This must be some kind of sick game for him - to see how far he can push you before you bend to him. He knows the implications of his question. You’ll start imagining yourself bent over the desk, looking closely to study the wood and its rings and texture. Everything he wants you to look for. Your mind will wonder, and suddenly, the image of him fucking you, hard and purposeful, over the desk pops up and you’ll never be able to get it out of your head.
And it works like a god damn charm.
His head tilts to the side, eyes softening to look amused. Probably because he notices you’re panting lighting and can feel it against his lips. “I can show you, if you want,” he murmurs. Still acting innocent. Still keeping with this game.
You breathe in because your head starts getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, but that proves a fatal mistake. 
Because the air itself smells like him - like coffee and smoke and old cologne and it goes straight between your thighs and you find yourself craving the feel of his scarred, worn-out hands on your skin. “Gibbs…”
His name comes out weak, like a shiver. And when he hums in response to it, you can nearly feel the vibration through the air and pulsing against your body. And slowly, carefully, his hand comes up to touch your shoulder. The first real, raw physical contact and you wait for it with baited breath. Suddenly craving it more than the air itself.
As it connects, you expect a soft sort of seering feel. Like a branding iron. Instead, it’s a hard and sudden shove that seems to rock the entire world.
It’s so hard, your eyes snap open instantly, sucking in a gasp of air like you’d just been held underwater. Those cold blue eyes that had so easily frozen you solid were gone, replaced with the familiar scene of the office doused in the light of a sunset. 
The stifling presence of Leroy Jethro Gibbs was also gone - in a way, you were grateful for the freedom. It was much easier to breathe now, that’s for certain. But the second thing you notice upon sitting up in your chair isn’t as appreciated.
Your body is humming. Heart pounding a million miles a second. And your skin...it’s almost painfully sensitive. So much so, even your clothes rubbing against it is almost too much to bear. For a moment, you can still feel Gibbs and his warm breath and the remains of his touch. 
But the worst realization is the deep throb between your legs. Aching and pulsing for something - or someone - that will never come. Your thighs shift together, hoping to ease the feel but the friction only seems to make it worse.
“You fell asleep.”
That’s his voice. 
Your head whips up to find Gibbs standing by your desk - watching you, his eyebrows pinched together and standing in nearly the same exact spot as in your dream and it’s a shock that you even realize that.
Immediately, you let your gaze fall - everything is throbbing just a little too much to meet his eyes. “And you were making some noises,” he continues. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you answer immediately. Too quick, you realize. Gibbs may not believe the dream was simply nothing, and it’s proven when he takes a small step closer to you. His shoes nearly nudge against yours, and you can’t stop yourself from tucking your feet under the chair away from him. 
His eyes are still on you. It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep your breathing steady and to stop the light shake of your hands to even pretend everything was normal. “You sure?” He asks. And this time, his tone is different. Just slightly - it wouldn’t even had been noticeable if dream-Gibbs hadn’t spoken so softly right in your fucking ear.
You need to get a fucking grip.
It was just a dream. A vivid, extremely hot dream. But a dream nonetheless. Not real.
“Very sure,” you reply, forcing your tone to sound more confident that you feel. It’s still impossible to meet his eyes - you know they’d be every bit as frosty blue and cool as in your dream, so you just spin your chair to face the desk. “You just woke me up from an intense dream.”
Gibbs hums a bit at the explanation. “Gonna tell me about it?”
“Definitely not.”
Out the corner of your eye, Gibbs just shrugs before turning back to his own desk and sitting down. Now that his whole focus isn’t on you, the rest of the world start to filter back in. The golden light of a setting sun coming in through the windows. The ambience of the office, winding down from a long day. Gibbs sipping his coffee. 
It gets easier to slow your beating heart. To ignore the slow, steady throb between your thighs. 
And carefully, you glance up across the bullpen to Gibbs. His eyes are on the monitor, paying you no attention.
“Gibbs.” That is, until you say his name carefully. Like an experiment. 
And when the shock of his eyes hits you once again, it’s nearly as powerful and earth-shaking as it was in the dream. But this time, you hold his gaze. Because there’s something you need to know before you can put this dream behind you and get back to work.
Your hand comes up, knuckles rapping lightly against the wooden surface of the desk. It sounds louder than it should. 
“Do you know what kind of wood this is?”
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destinys-lies · 3 years
Text
Great Job, Internet! by destiny’s lies
Disclaimer:
Boku no hero academia and its characters do not belong to me, but Kōhei Horikoshi. Any images used are credited to their original owner(s).
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Prompt:
Day 3: Haunted—Superstition
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Author’s Note:
Just an Izuocha drabble to help improve my writing skills. I chose to do superstition. 
A friend of mine (she wants to be anonymous) helped me out a lot with this story, so thanks! She made it really fun for me to write this. Also, she says, “Don’t break glass.” I hope you guys enjoy this story!
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Synopsis: 
Izuku knew death was inevitable but he didn’t expect for it to come so soon and be so painfully stressful.
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Izuku sat alone on the couch, staring at the television screen. A show about haunted houses was playing. He was never the biggest fan when it came to the spooky and paranormal, but he had to admit, it was interesting to watch.
Multiple pinging sounds echoed throughout his house. It was his phone. Someone must’ve texted him.
With a tired sigh, he got up from the couch and sauntered upstairs to his bedroom to find his phone lying on his bed. He picked it up and looked at the several messages covering the screen. 
They were all from Ochako. 
A slight smile crawled onto this face. She was always thinking about him. He let his gaze crawl up to the pictures of him and Ochako hanging on the wall. Each picture held a precious memory from their past. He was so lucky to have her in his life.
Holding his phone in one hand, he reached the doorknob. His elbow bumped into a wall, causing a picture to fall onto the ground. The frame broke. His shoulders twitched by the unexpectedly loud volume of the sound. The shattered frame contained a picture of him from his younger years.
He thought nothing of it. He’d come by later to clean it. Closing the door behind him, he walked downstairs, reading the messages that Ochako had sent. She wanted him to go to the grocery store to get some ingredients to make for dinner later. He texted a message back.
Izuku would have no problem with that, he’s done it at least a thousand times. Locking the door behind him, he merrily walked down the sidewalk. 
Eventually, he reached the end of the sidewalk. Beside him stood a pole with a button that allowed pedestrians to cross. He pressed the button and waited for the light to turn green.
Once the light turned green, Izuku checked both directions before proceeding. Cars on both sides of the crosswalk stood still, their engines quietly rumbling. Certain that he was in the clear, he walked down the crosswalk. The sound of loud screeching startled him. He quickly glanced in the direction to see a big, black truck speeding towards him. The driver carelessly honked the horn, showing no signs of stopping or slowing down.
Without wasting another second, he jumped out of the way onto the sidewalk. His heart violently thrummed in his chest as he glanced behind to see the speeding truck fade into the distance. He sat on the curb, trying to catch his breath before standing up.
He wiped off the dirt from his pants. A large, jagged hole in his jeans was visible on the side of his jeans. 
“Great,” he grumpily muttered. “Just what I needed.”
With a huff, he continued his way onto the grocery store.
                                                         * * *
Returning from the grocery store, Izuku went on his merry way home. The sound of rushing water caught his attention and turned to look at the large pond lying in the center of the park. 
I’ll cut through the park. It’ll take me home faster and the scenery looks great.
He walked up to the pond until he spotted a weird object sticking out of the pond. He leaned in to get closer until he felt a shove from behind.
“Whoopsie!” a person exclaimed before timorously dashing away.
He dove headfirst into the pond.  
It was nothing to worry about though, it was just a pond. Well, that’s what he suspected. However, when he fell in, he realized the pond was way deeper than he expected. He flailed his arms as the grocery bags he clung to acted like cement bags, dragging him down. Realizing he had to sacrifice his food for his life, he let go of the bags, letting them sink to the bottom of the pond as he swam up to the top.
Emerging from the murky water, Izuku began coughing up water as he took big gulps of air.
“Today…is...really...not...my day,” he panted, trying to catch his breath.
He needed to vent to someone. Thinking of Ochako, he pulled out his wet phone to text her. He pressed the power button in an attempt to turn it on, but the water ruined it. The phone stared at him blankly.
“Are you fucking serious?!” he groaned, clenching his other hand into a fist.
He put away his phone and stomped back home, furious and soggy. The crack of thunder warned him about the impending rain. Then it rained. He began rushing home, the sound of heavy raindrops falling onto the sidewalk.
He stopped running to catch his breath before another crack of lightning struck a few feet in front of him, hitting a tree. He stood there in shock, staring at the charred tree before collecting himself and walking again. He heard a loud shout behind him and turned towards the sound, nearly getting hit by the tree that the lightning struck. 
“SHIT! SOMETHING’S OUT TO GET ME!”
He dashed the rest of the way home, locking the door behind him and running up the stairs. He logged on to his computer, trying to get his mind off the disastrous series of events that occurred. His mind wandered back to the frame he shattered earlier.
Izuku decided to look through new frames on his computer to get his mind off everything. He saw a link from a discussion forum that piqued his interest. Curious, he clicked on it and began reading it through.
The guy on the forum was talking about all the things he had experienced. Strangely, all the stuff this guy mentioned he had experienced, all because he broke a picture frame. The post was five years old. He scrolled down the chat to see what the guy did to stop this “curse,” but he didn’t see any updates.
Izuku quietly read the post aloud, “When glass breaks, it’s already too late. Your life is tangled in a new fate. A new life full of despair and agony awaits until you fall and never rise again. That is when the curse breaks but at that point, it is already the end because you’ll be dead.”
DEAD? he thought. All those things that happened to him—they were because of breaking that picture. Another crack of thunder lit up the sky. “I’M GOING TO DIE!” he cried.
                                                         * * *
A few hours later, Ochako entered the house, closing the door behind her. Work had been tiresome and stressful. She closed the door. It was dark. That’s strange, she wondered. Typically Izuku is up at this time waiting for me.
She turned on the lights and looked at the couch. There in the murky darkness was Izuku covered in blankets and quivering in fear. His bloodshot eyes stared down at the ground. Her smile fell into a frown.
“Izuku?” she sympathetically asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to die, Ochako,” he whimpered as he slowly rocked himself, hugging his legs close to his chest. “I’m going to die.” 
“W-What? Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know, but someone’s trying to kill me. They’re after me—they all are.”
“Izuku, honey, who’s after you?”
“EVERYONE!”
“They tried to kill me with a truck! They saw me b-but they s-still ATTACKED ME! They want me to die, Ochako!” he panicked, viciously trembling. “T-THE THUNDER! THE THUNDER TRIED TO KILL ME! I UPSET THEM OCHAKO! I UPSET THE GODS! I don’t know what I’m going to do, Ochako. Should I go by a different name? Should I just wait f-for it h-happen? Wait to just die? I’m not going to die, Ochako! I’M NOT GOING TO DIE! I CAN’T DIE! I can’t die by a stupid picture!”
He waved his hands frantically, rambling on and on about the endless possibilities of dying before finally breaking down into tears. Ochako silently stared at him. She walked over to him, sitting beside him and embracing him in a hug.
“Hey Izuku, it’ll be alright. You’ll be okay.” Ochako gave him a reassuring smile. Izuku tried to smile back, but the stress of the day made it difficult.
Ochako gestured towards the door. “I think you need some fresh air. Let’s take a walk.” 
Izuku followed Ochako outside, sticking close beside her. The heavy rain was now a drizzle. Ochako liked the rain, it was one of her favorite things. She always carried an umbrella with her.
Together, they walked down the sidewalk and Ochako put away the umbrella when the drizzle stopped. The streets were damp and the air was still scented with the smell of rain. 
Ochako giggled as she splashed a puddle on Izuku, trying to lighten the mood. Izuku usually would’ve laughed along with her, but he was too busy watching a large dog. Its leash looked worn and loose from years of stretching it. The dog aggressively barked and growled as the two passed by. It pulled on the leash, lunging at Izuku with blood in its eyes.
Ochako realized what Izuku was worried about, so she offered to walk on the other side of the street, away from the dog. 
Then all of the sudden, the dog’s leash snapped and it charged at Izuku. He ran as fast as he could run, adrenaline pushing him all the way back home. 
A few minutes later, Ochako arrived, a guilty expression donning her face.
“The dog’s owner told me that he’s never acted like that before, he’s usually a sweet dog,” she worriedly explained. She shut the door behind her and walked over to Izuku, who was anxiously sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.
“It’s alright,” Izuku assured her. “I just must’ve done something to upset him.” 
He chuckled nervously trying to reassure Ochako. Ochako let out an exasperated sigh. He was doing it again. She knew him too well, he was trying to hide his problems for her own ease. She wasn’t going to let it go though. 
“It’s going to be okay.” She smiled comfortably at him, gently rubbing his back.
“I don’t want to die,” Izuku cried.
“You’re not going to die,” Ochako told him, leaning closer to him. She pulled a charm out of her pocket and placed it into Izuku’s hand. “Here,” she said. “Have this.”
Izuku stared at the rainbow-colored bracelet. “What is it?” Izuku asked, looking down at it.
“It’s a good luck charm. It’ll keep you safe,” she told him. “It kept me safe when I needed it. Now you need it.”  
“Ochako?” Izuku stared into her soft, brown eyes, his mouth breaking into a small smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem, honey,” she replied before placing a kiss on his cheek. “Anytime.”
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jenovahh · 3 years
Text
The Honey Pot - Ch. 19 - Tender
“Cid and I only want to help you, you know.”
It is almost noon, the sun high in the sky, but the day is surprisingly cool due to autumn beginning to settle in. Estinien is a furnace unto himself, your fingers trailing across the bare skin of his torso, drawing lazy patterns on toned muscle, your fingers tickling his abs. Held close like this in the aftermath of your coupling, you find that this tenderness is what you crave, and despite it being right in front of you, you cannot have it.
“I know.” You sigh, tucking your face into his neck, breathing him in.
“But…?” Estinien prompts, clearly not willing to let you weasel out of this.
“But...” You whimper, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, gripping him tighter, your nude form pressed snugly against his own. What could you say that would keep you out of Varis’ sights? Keep Cid out of his sights? Your choker feels like a brand against your skin. “If you are so smart, how would you help me? I doubt you could come up with a plan to stop anything Varis can do.” You smile bitterly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the despair you feel.
Estinien stiffens for a moment beneath you, before releasing a slow breath. “I see.” Is all he says, and it is silent for a few minutes more. Times like these, you wish he did not speak so much, want so much from you. He wanted far more than you could give, both because you couldn’t risk his safety and because of your feelings.
Your feelings for--
“I should make you scream louder then, huh.” He chuckles and you smack him on the chest for even saying such a thing.
“You brute.” You can’t help but laugh, even a little bit.
“I think they prefer the term savage.” He smirks, tilting your face up to him. Your eyes immediately look to the far wall, not wanting to meet his own, knowing exactly you’ll find there. “Honey.” The adoration in his voice is enough to pull your gaze back to him, his eyes boring into your very soul. “There is nothing I would not do for you.”
Tears finally overflow, a sob breaking past your lips. “That’s the problem.”
Standing in Varis’ office, you have no choice but to stand there and be humiliated as your own moans and sighs are played back for you to hear. Your face is not red from embarrassment or shame, but instead a righteous anger that even your most tender moments must be used against you like this.
You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself silly.
Lips pursed together, you glare back at Varis, hiding nothing, hiding none of your absolute loathing for him. That loathing shifts into disgust when you swear there is a note of enjoyment in his features at listening to the playback. Reclining in his chair, he throws you a vile smirk as your conversation with Estinien plays over the computer speakers.
“What had you called the bodyguard earlier? A friend?” He asks, twirling your choker between his fingers.
“I don’t believe I hesitated.” You ground out, parroting his own phrase back at him.
“This sounds far too personal for something as trivial as friendship.” He gleams, placing the choker back on his desk. “Do not think I did not see your attempt to protect him.”
Your heart seizes in your chest, body going stiff as time seems to freeze for a moment.
“You’re bold, little savage, to go against orders from your superior.” Varis’ tone is completely absent of any amusement, his golden eyes staring you down.
Fear stills your tongue, makes you question your actions and it is not fear for yourself; it is for Ardbert, for Cid, for Estinien--
“I-It is because perhaps I do feel something beyond just friendship for him.” While meant as a lie to try and appease him, you startle yourself with how much truth the statement carries. “In that moment I was not thinking of your orders, and only of my...feelings for him. To protect him.”
Varis studies you for a moment, before that sleazy smile returns to his face. “I see.” He chuckles, relaxing once more. “In that case, I will excuse this mistake, so long as it is the last. Am I understood?” You nod, which seems to please him. “Good. I will admit, I was growing...apprehensive at the sudden turnaround of your relationship with Zenos. But with this confirmation of your feelings for that savage, I believe things will resume according to plan.” He tilts his head slightly, pinning you with a pitying look. “Savages should breed with savages after all.”
Taking a deep sigh, you clench your fists tightly at your sides to keep your anger in check. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“Is there anything else, my lord.” He corrects, brows furrowed. “And no, you are free to go.”
You cannot turn on your heel fast enough to get out of there.
As tempted as you are to slam the door behind you, you allow the lock to gently click shut, power walking down the hall as fast as you can. It is entirely too early in the day for you to feel as stressed as this, and it is well past noon. Due to Varis’ orders, you have no need to go anywhere near Zenos and this is the only time you’ll ever feel gratitude for the monster that is Varis zos Galvus. The last person you want to see right now is his son, at least, not before you can take care of all these hickeys.
Never could you have predicted that taking on this mission would mean that your love life would also be in jeopardy. Gone were the problems of a guy not texting back or breaking your heart altogether. No, now you had to deal with pretty, rich boys and prickly bodyguards who treated you right.
You could already hear Y’shtola’s admonishing tone for even thinking of choosing Zenos over the man who actually treated you like you deserved. Had Lyse known about Zenos and what he did to you, you were sure that she would give him a piece of her mind. The thought makes you shudder, because while Lyse was also a trained fighter, you knew she could never lay a hand on Zenos.
No one could.
Grumbling about nothing in particular, you spend the rest of your day off watching whatever is on your tablet, filtering through cute cat videos and recipes you would never get to try. Before you know it, the sun has already set, and you’ve missed dinner, but it's not like you had much of an appetite anyway with how the day’s events played out.
Shrugging, you pull yourself from the comfort of your bed to pad to your bathroom to turn on the shower, needing to give it a few moments for the water to warm up with fall’s chill settling in. Heading back into the bedroom to grab a fresh towel, someone knocks on your door and you wonder who it could possibly be this late in the evening. Stepping to the door, you slide it open, gasping as you come face to face with a tattooed chest.
Following that tattoo upwards you meet an ice cold gaze, glaring down at you with the strength of Coerthan blizzard. “Zenos, what is,”
Saying nothing, he takes a single step forward and you take one back, letting himself into your room without permission. The door slides shut behind him, and you watch as he reaches a hand past his back to lock it shut. Trepidation fills you as you stare up at him, noticing how he’s already seemed to be dressed for bed. He wears a loose, silken robe, maroon in color, his hair loose around his shoulders. He wears no shirt underneath, and you bring your eyes back up before you can find the chance to see if he wears no pants either.
“It’s rude to barge in,” You try to start, but he takes another step towards you, reaching for the collar of your shirt. Acting fast, you quickly dodge his grip, spinning out of arm’s reach and closer to the bed. “What do you want?” You ask, gulping as you see no way out. There’s no way you’re getting past him and out the door without making a scene, and the circumstances aren’t so dire you need to break out your window.
He glares at you still, practically prowling toward you as he holds your gaze. “Why weren’t you at dinner?” He asks, and the question seems so random, you forget to keep distance between the two of you.
“Why does it matter?” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. “I just forgot; after dealing with your shitty father, I wanted to just sit and enjoy the rest of my day without all of…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you, “this.”
Frowning, he pauses, a hand reaching to grab one of the bedposts as he gives you a heavy lidded look. “My father? What has he bid you to do this time?” He asks, the question innocent enough. You quickly debate on whether you should tell him though, given that his father hasn’t apprised him of his plans for you. Especially given that they involve Estinien--
“He sent me to collect information, as usual.” You reply, giving him a nasty look. “He was just especially shitty about it today.”
Zenos seems to consider that for a moment, almost mulling it over. “I see.” He takes another step toward you and suddenly you are aware of just how much distance he has covered between here and the door.
“Well if that’s all you wanted, you’re free to leave,” you continue backing away from him, checking behind you to make sure you don’t bump into anything. Edging away from the bed, you head toward the closest wall, the steam from the bathroom caressing your skin. “I was getting ready to shower and sleep for work tomorrow, and it seems you already have as well. I think we’re done here--”
“Oh, my beast.” He chuckles darkly, voice as thick as sin. “We are far from done.” He hasn’t stopped his advance on you, your mind addled from the day’s events to realize you had backed yourself right into the bathroom. His height allows him to nearly bump his head against the door frame, his broad shoulders nearly touching the sides. Stepping in, he shuts that door behind him too, trapping you both inside.
“W-What do you want?” You ask, voice trembling much like your body is, gasping as your lower back makes contact with the sink. With nowhere to go, Zenos stands before you, all muscle and good looks and gods, he smells so good--
“You’ve been with the bodyguard again.” It is an accusation instead of a question, a statement instead of an inquiry. Shame floods through you at this, cursing yourself for feeling trapped in this spot. To say you didn’t want to be with Estinien was a lie. To say you did was also a lie. You couldn’t tell the truth, not without putting Estinien or your own feelings at risk.
“So that is what my father put you up to, then.” Zenos murmurs, his hands resting on either side of you, gripping the shining porcelain, leaning into your personal space. You can feel his sigh against your cheek as his eyes jump across your face. The anger is still present in his eyes, though you notice it does not seem to be directed at you anymore, at least. But then…
“Please don’t...hurt Estinien,” You beg, but he shushes you with a finger on your lips, the action surprisingly tender as he continues to hold your gaze in silence. You stand there as he gazes at you, pinning you with a look so possessive it steals your breath away.
“How cruel are you to say another man’s name in my presence.” He mumbles, pressing his thumb against your lips, as if to test their softness. “No, I will not harm him. If there is anyone you should be concerned about harming him, it would be father.” As he leans forward you close your eyes, whimpering as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And if there is anyone you need to be worried about me harming...it would be father.”
Frowning, you reach out for his robe, enjoying the silk in your hands as you grip it tight. “I can protect myself.”
“This is true.” he whispers against your skin, his hand leaving your lips to instead snake around your waist and pull you against him. “But you cannot protect others from my father.”
You can already feel his arousal against your stomach, and though it is only half hard, it is impressive nonetheless. An ache of your own begins to grow between your legs, thighs clenching together as your body tries to press into his. Tilting your chin up, Zenos dips his head to press a kiss to your lips, biting down on your bottom lip in a way that has you melt into him instantly. Your hands clutch at him frantically to loop around his neck to bring you closer to him, needing to feel more and more.
Groaning, his hands immediately seek out your pants, pulling you off the sink enough to push them down your thighs, fingers grazing your already sensitive skin. You use your own to push his robe aside, exposing his chest as best you can while you kick your pants off as he works to shove your panties down as well. “Zenos,” you whine and he growls in return, hands hastily reaching for the hem of your shirt to wrench it over your head, taking no gentleness in the action that leaves your shoulders hurting for a moment.
You’re not in pain for long, his lips pressing kisses from your lips to your jawline, setting every nerve on fire in its wake as he trails down your neck where Estinien’s own marks lie. The force at which Zenos sucks on your skin is almost forceful, a mix of pain and pleasure as his hands work to divest you of your bra and dump it on the bathroom floor. Now naked, he grabs you by the hips and hikes you up onto the sink, placing himself between your legs and pulling you to him so you can feel his full hardness.
The way he nestles against your core is absolutely divine, your head rolling back as he continues to overwrite Estinien’s marks with his own. Feeling like things are unfair, you dig your blunt nails into his skin, wanting to leave some kind of mark of your own; after all, he did say he was yours as much as you were his.
Now that he has you naked, he’s feeling more agreeable to your hands trying to divulge him of his robe, his arms leaving you just long enough to get out of his sleeves before they are bringing you closer again. His hands immediately seek your breasts, squeezing and kneading, showing none of the initial gentleness he had just a night ago. His fingers pinch your nipples so deliciously it has you nearly jumping off the sink, your hips grinding along his length as you fight to get his robe all the way off.
To your surprise, you find that he was not wearing any underwear.
Face heating, you pull away from him as the robe falls to the floor, getting a good look at his length, before meeting his eyes. He arches a brow silently and you clear your throat before speaking what was on your mind. “Do you, uh...not sleep with pajamas?” You ask, watching as he huffs out a dry laugh.
“It depends.” he offers vaguely, humming as you take his dick in hand, feeling its satiny smoothness, its warmth and its desire for you. His hips jerk forward as you circle your hand around his cock, smearing the precum on the head before bringing your fingers to your lips to taste. It is salty as expected but you do not mind, eyes glazing over with lust as he brings his lips to yours to taste himself.
Your heart thuds in your chest as his hands rove your body, squeezing and gripping fiercely, yet so tenderly, that you don’t know what to think. The rush you had felt that night at the hotel as absent, and its place is something more...more…
Personal.
Too personal in fact.
Aware of this fact, you unconsciously try to pull away from him but he won’t let you go, pressing you further into the sink as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Zenos,” you whine, your body wanting him, but, the way he holds you, it is not the way an enemy would. He does not hold you like one would in a one night stand with their boss. He does not hold you in the way a friend or a lover would.
He holds you like you belong to him, and him alone.
The thought alone tugs at your heartstrings, and you grip him that much tighter for it. “Don’t do this…” you whisper, not intending for him to hear, but he does.
“Do what?” he asks, licking a line between your breasts before he pulls you tight against him, hoisting you up from the sink. Your thighs tighten around his hips immediately as he walks you both to the still running shower, the spray washing over you both.
“I...I thought we weren’t lovers.” Is the only thing you can say without giving your own feelings away. Try as you might, you can’t tear your eyes away from how the water runs over the grooves of his chiseled form, his skin glistening before you as his hair sticks to his chest. Somehow his eyes are that much clearer here, an emotion you can’t name laid bare in his eyes, the intensity of it sweeping you away.
Grunting, he presses you against the wall of the shower. “We are not.” He agrees, reaching beneath you, trusting that you won’t allow yourself to fall. Taking his cock in hand, he fits the head past your lower lips, your breath hitching as he slowly feeds himself inside. “But you do belong to me.”
You hadn’t realized how ready you were for him, how wet you were that he meets little resistance as he pushes his cock deep inside you. Your head thumps against the shower wall as he pushes in ilm by ilm, your nails digging much more harshly into his perfect skin. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breath hot against your skin despite the warmth of the water, a shuddering moan escaping him, your mind committing the sound to memory.
Something about this moment, makes you feel much more naked before him than you had ever felt previously.
Zenos had always been smart, always keen, as evidenced by him figuring out how his father was blackmailing you with you hardly having to say anything. He did not hae to say it, but you could sense he knew. He was able to read you like a book most days, to the point it was almost scary. That someone so vastly different from you could see right through you, begged to be believed. Underneath the spray of the shower, you feel as if all fronts are washed away, leaving the two of you raw with feelings neither of you know what to deal with.
Looking into his eyes, something in your heart yearns for him, your hands leaving his neck to cradle his face. Running your fingers along his skin, he remains silent under your inspection, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers graze across his lips, his nose. He truly was beautiful, all hard lines and soft edges, and undoubtedly yours. This man, this murderer, this monster, considered himself yours..
When you kiss him, it feels like you can’t get enough.
It is slow and heady, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, tongues dancing together as he fully hilts himself within you. He feels as perfect as he did the first time, your hands leaving his face to tangle in his wet hair, his grip on your thighs strengthening to hold you in place as he moves his hips to pull out before pushing back in, so slowly as if he is trying to carve out his place in your very being. Chest to chest, you moan into his mouth, your own hips trying to meet his thrusts but he holds you still, content on doing all the work.
“You’re so…” You rasp, taking your turn to trail kisses down his jawline, able to do nothing else since words fail you. Every part of his body you touch feels perfect, and you wonder how someone so awful could look how he does, hold you how he does.
“I know I forgot to ask last time…” he grunts, snapping his hips rather forcefully, burying his face into your neck, licking at the water that runs down your skin. “But you are on a contraceptive…?”
You nod, rolling your hips in a way so sweet he can’t help but groan. His hips snap into you again and you moan without shame, arching your back into him as he clutches you as if you’ll disappear. “Good. Because I’m not stopping. Not until it is clear to anyone with eyes just who you belong to.”
“Shouldn’t you have asked before,” Your quip is cut short as he gives a firm slap on your ass, the sting of his hand fading as he kneads the flesh, seeming pleased.
“Shut up, Honey.” He whispers, taking the time to meet your eyes, stealing another kiss as he begins to finally pick up the pace. Your ankles lock behind his back, holding you to him as his hips piston into your own, your sheathe so wet that he slides in and out with minimal resistance. His cock feels like it was meant for you and you alone, and the truth of that statement is enough to shake you to your core.
In your daze, you cup his face once more, meeting his stare, unafraid. “Say it again.” You demand, though with your lustful voice it sounds more like a plea. “Say my name again,”
“Honey.” He breathes, a realization shining in his eyes as if the very sound your name is magic. “Honey.” He repeats, pressing his forehead against yours, eyelids sliding shut as all his focus enters his third eye. “Honey.” The reverence that suffuses his voice makes you hold him tighter, to where air could not possibly pass between the two of you.
Reaching between you, he plays with your clit, increasing your pleasure as he fucks you. Your moans turn into high pitched cries of faster and more, kisses feverish as if the world is falling down around you. Paired with his fingers on your clit and his cock pounding you, it does not take you much longer to come undone, his name a prayer on your lips as you find your release. With your body gripping him so tightly he follows soon after, his seed shooting deep inside you as he moans your name against your skin.
The water has long since gone cold, something you thought impossible in this house, but you suppose you have been at it for awhile. The two of you stand beneath the lukewarm spray, a shiver racking your body as you keep close to Zenos for warmth. You both stand there in silence, unsure what to say, lest things get more complicated and this moment ruined.
Lowering your legs to the floor, you stand on wobbly feet much like a newborn fawn, the Galvus heir’s cum sliding down your legs, washed away by the spray of the shower. Shivering again, you press closer to his warmth in a rare show of weakness, the action making him go stiff before an arm reaches around your shoulder to hold you close. You feel his chin rest atop your head, the two of you standing there on the precipice of the unknown.
Gaining a courage you do not feel, you look up at him, finding he is looking right back. His hand brushes strands of your wet hair from your face, examining you much like you did to him earlier.
If you were asked who was the first to close the gasp and start that next kiss, you wouldn’t be able to answer.
As dawn breaks on the horizon, you groggily try to turn over to catch a few more precious minutes of sleep, confused as you find you cannot turn over at all. Thinking yourself tangled in your sheets, you kick your feet out to try and right yourself, only to have your toes brush against someone’s legs. Someone’s bare legs.
Gasping, the night comes back in a rush as you come face to face with Zenos’ sleeping one. That you have woken up before him is shocking enough in and of itself, considering he is always the first to wake and be ready to train every morning. His arm is like a steel band around you, his even breaths atop your head warm and soothing. Like this, no one would ever think him a monster, his face the very picture of peace.
Without thinking, you reach to press a small kiss to his lips, able to fully appreciate their silken texture now that you’re not in the throes of passion. The moment doesn’t last for long however, a sigh passing his lips as he holds you a little tighter and kisses you back. Despite the two of you being nude and pressed against one another, the kiss remains surprisingly chaste, simply enjoying the taste and feel of the other this early in the morning.
Seemingly satisfied, Zenos gives you a smug grin as he finally opens his eyes. “Good morning, my beast.”
Twelve above, what have you done?
“Good morning, Zenos.” You respond burying your face in his chest, unwilling to show him anymore than you already have. You’ve been vulnerable enough for a lifetime, you think.
“We should start our day, should we not?” He hums, giving you a firm squeeze. “As unopposed I would be to keep you in bed with me, we still have work to do.”
While a day in bed with him sounds wonderful, it makes you concerned for how much your feelings have changed. “Well, I’m in my room. You’re the one who has to do the walk of shame back up to your room.” You say with a rude snort, trying to pull away from his hold but he’s not willing to let go of you quite yet.
“It is hardly a walk of shame, my beast. It would not be the first time the staff have seen me stumble through my home naked after a night of fine drinks and fine women…” he mumbles into your neck, pressing a kiss there. This was getting way too personal, too fast. “I would not doubt that a few of them are winning some fairly large prize pools based on last night.”
You push on his chest to get yourself far enough to throw him an incredulous look. “A prize pool? Like a betting pot?”
Grinning as he snuggles into the pillow, the look he gives you is almost dreamy. “The greatest ‘will they or won’t they’ so I’ve heard. I suspect you’ve made quite a few maids happy.” He pauses to stretch, deeming it time to finally get out of bed. “It would not be the first time I’ve caught wind of my employees making bets upon my personal life. I suspect there will be a new bet soon enough.”
You don’t even want to begin thinking of what the staff could possibly be making bets on, knowing that it would never spell any good for you. Clutching your sheets to your chest, you watch as Zenos swings his legs out the bed, unbothered by his nudity at all. Your eyes immediately latch onto the sight of his ass, hand itching to release the bed sheet you hang onto so dearly and slap his backside much like he did to yours last night.
“I think you left your robe in the, uh, bathroom.” You cough, quickly averting your eyes as he circles the bed to go retrieve his silk robe. Now that he’s at least got some cover, it's far easier to look at his face, though that seems to only get your heart racing. “I will meet you in the gym, as usual.”
“Of course.” He purrs, giving you a sultry look as he makes his way toward the door. Pausing, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. “Though, feel free to let me know if we need to cancel today. I will be more than understanding if you find yourself unable to walk.”
You sit there gaping like a fish before your mind can formulate a response, cursing his name as you toss a pillow at the door just as it shuts. Grabbing another pillow you scream into it in frustration, legs kicking as you try to calm down. If he was going to be this egotistical every time you slept with him, you’d honestly just stop altogether.
Once you’ve calmed down, you sigh and finally roll out of bed yourself. Heading to the bathroom, you head to the shower to turn it on, spinning around immediately to make sure the door to your bedroom is locked this time. Your thighs are still sticky and gross from your all night session with your boss, and you can already hear Y’shtola’s judgemental sigh of disapproval.
With the water nice and hot, you step inside and release a blissful sigh, all the aches and pains and a certain soreness melting away. Hopefully it would be just another day sitting at the office as Zenos signed papers and made phone calls, giving you time to rest after he saw fit to nearly kill you with pleasure the night prior.
Now alone, you allow yourself to actually reflect on last night, the spray of the water putting you in a trance as it takes you back to your time with Zenos. His hands on you, almost worshipping your body, the surety of how he handled you as if he already knew how you liked it. The way he looked into your eyes as he sheathed himself inside you, as if you were the only person who ever mattered to him.
You wondered if he even knew what he was doing, knew the weight of his gestures, his staring, and how it was terrible for your heart.
There was not a shadow of a doubt that Estinien wanted to be more than friends with benefits; that he genuinely cared for you romantically, and wanted to give you more than just a sparring session on the weekend occasionally sprinkled with sex. Estinien was a man who deserved far more than just a weekend fling and a tussle in the sheets because you were too afraid to confront your feelings about your boss.
But now that you’ve also done the deed with Zenos, where did this leave you? Zenos couldn’t possibly be looking for anything such as commitment; in fact, you’re positive he’d laugh in your face for suggesting such an idea. But his feelings of possession were so strong you knew if you even dared to pursue anything permanent with Estinien, Estinien’s life would be forfeit.
Telling Estinien to back off for his own safety would be the proper thing to do, were you not trying to protect him from the son of a mafia boss.
With your thoughts getting nowhere fast, you decide it’s best to stop thinking about it, at least for now. Turning off the shower, you hop out to go and dress for the day, deciding to actually take Zenos up on canceling training.
A decision you would come to immediately regret.
“You want me to what?”
“I don’t believe I hesitated.” Varis sighs, flashing his son a bored look. Zenos, however, looks absolutely livid. “You will be shadowing me today.”
“But I am your son’s bodyguard! His!” You insist, resisting the urge to stamp your foot. “I told you that if I was looking to change my career path, I would talk to you!”
“I am not only your employer, but also the face of the company, I get to make the executive decision of overriding my son’s wishes of keeping you.” Varis replies in that even tone despite his son looking like he’s ready to slice his head clean from his shoulders. “I believe the two of you are in need of...some time apart.” He huffs distastefully, giving his son a once over. “Really, boy. A plethora of women to use at your leisure and you choose...the help.”
Zenos doesn’t back down, stepping to where he’s eye to eye with his father. “And you constantly choose to take things from me.”
Varis gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, crossing his hands behind his back. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have such refined tastes. I deserve only the best, and if I must take it from you, so be it.” Side stepping Zenos, Varis heads for the door. “Livia will be your bodyguard for the time being. Honey, come along.”
Glancing between Varis’ retreating form and Zenos, you can only give Zenos a worried look, though for him or for yourself, you are unsure. Deciding to just deal with it, you follow Varis out the door, becoming his shadow. A bunch of questions lie on the tip of your tongue, but you decide it is best to lie in wait and speak until spoken to for fear of saying the wrong thing or revealing something accidentally.
Opening the car door, Varis steps inside, taking a seat. Before you can make a move to shut the door and head for the passenger side, his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”
Frowning, you answer him simply. “To sit in the front seat.”
“And can you protect my life effectively in the front seat?” He asks, tugging surprisingly hard to pull you face first into the car. Quickly gaining your bearings, you sit up right, closing the door as gracefully as possible.
Unable to hold back any longer, you glare at him. “Why are you doing this?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. Varis however, looks undeterred by your hostility, crossing one leg over the other, steepling his fingers together in his lap as is his habit.
“As I had said before, savages should breed with savages.” He replies with a roll of his eyes, the action only making you angrier.
“Is this really about me fucking your son?” You can’t bring yourself to care about your cover when this monster has little care for your privacy. At this point, you’re surprised how he hasn’t found out you’re a cop yet for how fucking nosy he’s been.
“It is. I had hired a bodyguard to protect his image. Not to be a bedmate.” He sniffs, looking down his nose at you. You hardly feel the car pull away from the estate as he continues, “I was willing to look the other way if was to be a ‘one night stand’ as it were, but clearly I must keep you apart.”
You can feel the leather squeak and stretch under your grip as your nails bite into the seat, teeth clenched together as you are floored by the sheer audacity of this man. “And what about all that talk of ‘wanting the best’? Did you lie to your own son?”
“I have never lied to him. I have never needed to.” He huffs, relaxing fully now that you have exited the grounds. “I have never feared my son for despite his monstrous nature, I know he will never turn against me. I instilled in him since birth that we deserve only the finer things in life, but myself most of all. After all, it is due to my own work that he can live the lifestyle he craves.”
Confusion stills your anger for a moment, and you get the sinking feeling of something deeper running between father and son. “W-What do you mean?”
“Really, savage, do you think Zenos could live the way his heart desires as a common citizen?” Varis scoffs, once again rolling his eyes. “He cannot kill me, for once he does, his ability for The Hunt as he calls it, ends. All of my primary assets such as the company will belong to him upon my death, but for our more...underhanded dealings, they will remain out of his grip. I know he would only squander what I had worked so hard to build.”
Letting that sink in, you find that your anger has left you entirely, replaced entirely be sheer disbelief. “Do you...do you even love your son?”
Varis arches a single brow. “Why would I?”
What you had prayed was one day had turned into two, into four, into one week, into two weeks. Everyday, you woke at dawn, no longer allowed to train with Zenos, instead forced to do your morning exercises outside despite the temperature steadily dropping as autumn slowly took its hold on the city. Zenos had seemed to be sent out of the house more often as well, always doing his father’s bidding. What glimpses you caught of him were few, and when you did meet his eyes, they were so emotionless it broke your heart.
Being Varis’ bodyguard was every bit demanding as Zenos had warned it would be, your body exhausted from the first day alone. Everyone who was not Varis himself was seen as beneath him, and therefore subject to do anything he asked. From the most outrageous such as dislocating the wrist of a new subordinate who had forgot to address him “properly”, to simply pouring a fresh cup of coffee if his current one had gotten too cold for his liking.
Varis’ hours were not nearly as late as Zenos’ , meaning you got the chance to have more sleep, for what good it did you. As soon as you were finished with dinner, you would rush to your room and jot down notes about Varis that could hopefully be used against him in court. Miserable as you were, you had to remind yourself this was the chance you were looking for, no matter how much you hated it. You had learned Varis had little to do with his own gang, seeing fit to delegate others to handle matters for him and punishing them for their failures. It was a blessing in disguise that you at least did not have to go out and maim lesser gangs for no reason, but that did not make things you had seen any less horrifying.
Some days it seemed like Varis was trying to impress you, occasionally slipping you fine things such as a pocket watch glittering with diamonds, or treating you to lavish lunches with only you and him seated at a table. While disgusted, you knew there was nothing you could do to get out of this situation, sitting awkwardly as he would ramble on how he grew to be so successful. You couldn’t understand what he could possibly be trying to impress you for, seeing as he had split you and Zenos apart since you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.
Seeming to realize that his usual methods of impressing women were failing, Varis decided to be awfully cryptic about his plans for this night.
“You’re showing me...what exactly?” You ask, the city streets far behind you as you once again enter a more suburban part of town. The sight is much more familiar than the sprawling gardens and three story mansions you’ve gotten used to since the start of this job.
“I realized that perhaps my prowess would not truly dawn on you until I had shown you something much more...substantial.” Varis hums, a smirk on his face as the car pulls toward an unknown road.
Something in your gut tells you that whatever he is about to show you is going to make you sick. “And what would that be?”
Chuckling darkly, he pins you with a fierce look. “I think I will let it speak for itself.”
The road quickly turns into rocky gravel, and despite you riding in a luxury car, you hardly feel a change in the terrain. Tall trees begin to sprout up all around you, the sinking feeling in your gut growing deeper as you wonder if maybe Varis has finally found out you’re a spy and is here to kill you.
Coming around the bend, a massive warehouse sits alone in the forest, seemingly abandoned but you noticed that every single window is blacked out. It is strangely lacking in cars, and yet you see a smoke stack that is huffing out chemicals just fine. Looking around, you notice a handful of black vans, their windows tinted so darkly, that no one would be able to tell if there were any passengers. A large wire fence surrounds the entire compound, taking notice that while it seems pretty shady at first glance, taking a closer look you can spy armed guards around the perimeter.
The car is allowed through the gate without being made to stop, the driver pulling up to the closest door. Parking the car, the chauffeur shuffles out and hurries to open your door, clearing his throat when you don’t realize you had been staring for far too long. Scrambling out the car, Varis elegantly steps out behind you, placing a hand on your back far too low for comfort. “Come. Let me show you just how powerful I really am.”
Clamping down on your instinct to dig your heels into the dirt, you allow Varis to nudge you forward, his hand on your back the entire way as the door opens before you. Cold air sweeps over your face, your eyes struggling to adjust to the incredibly low light of the first room. Stepping in, you notice a small receptionist window to the side, Varis standing before it and giving a small nod to the man inside. A loud buzz sounds as well as the sound of several latches unlocking, and an armed guard opens the steel door before you.
Nudging you forward again, you pass through, the door immediately slamming shut behind the two of you. You find yourself at the base of metal stairs that lead to a walk way that circle the perimeter of the warehouse. A pungent smell fills your nose, smelling similar to ceruleum, but worse. Gasping you watch as a handful of workers tend to multiple machines, and truly take note of how large the warehouse -- no -- factory, really is. It expands further underground, huge vats of boiling, blue liquid swirling below you.
“Welcome, to the Aetherochemical Research Facility.” Varis takes the lead by heading up the stairs, and you follow close behind, the guard following right behind you.
“Aetherochemical…?” You ask, unable to take your eyes away from the sight. The employees working the machines are dressed from head to toe in hazmat suits, goggles reflecting the flames.
“There are strange forces at work in this world, Honey.” Varis begins with no small amount of dramatic flair. “Things that should be impossible, that are written off as happenstance. Luck. The universe at work, and so on and so forth.” As you walk along the balcony, you notice toward the higher rungs of the factory there seems to be a set of assembly lines, whatever substance that lay in the goo being deposited into cube shape moulds and sent down the line. “When I was young, being a child of Garlemald, my family had written off such things. After all, our ancestors were never able to use magic compared to myths of other races, and thus, did we write off its existence entirely.”
He pauses to face you, giving you a triumphant smile. “But I knew better.”
Turning back toward the assembly line, he gestures to two of the large cauldrons holding the mystery goo. “Within these vats is a substance once thought impossible. One comprised entirely of aether.”
Confused and concerned, you take a closer look, noting that it does have an unnatural shine to it. “Aether…?” You prompt, grabbing onto the railing to steady yourself.
“Believe it or not, our world is composed of a thing called aether. It is in the very air, the earth, the water. It controls all living things. Ancient legends from savage cultures say that once we pass from this world, our bodies become the aether we once were, and our souls return to something called the Lifestream.” He continues on, resuming his walk further down the balcony. “Unfortunately, due to the lack of research, harnessing its capabilities is still near impossible. The forebears of savages did not think to document their magics and manipulation of aether, and thus, have I had to do everything from scratch.”
Unsure what to say, you swallow thickly, trying your best to look even slightly in awe. “This is...more impressive than I first thought.”
He buys the bait, and you swear you can see his chest puff out the teeniest bit. “It is good that you think so. It is my life’s work.”
Try as you might, you cannot stop yourself from needing to know more. “This...aether. Are you turning into a fuel source? Or something else?”
Varis gives a single chuckle at that, golden eyes pinning you fiercely. “That is classified.”
Nodding, you turn back to the scene before you, feeling as if you stand at the feet of something far greater than the police force could have ever realized. “If that is so, why tell me all this?”
It is silent for a moment, until you hear him approach you once again. His features are that much harsher in this dark factory, making him look truly vile.
“Because it would mean nothing to me to simply kill you if anyone found out.” He answers lowly, face relaxing for a moment. “Though I trust it will not come to that. You are a force of nature, Honey.” Reaching for your hair, he takes a strand of it between two fingers, much like he had when you first met him. “One I hope to claim for myself.”
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thecrimsonacademic · 3 years
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2, 24, 30, 36 for the study asks!
Aw, thanks for asking back, that was sweet of you @mymessystudyblr! I have to put my answers under a "Keep Reading" because I talk too much and this'll get long.
Studyblr Asks
2. What's your major/what do you think you want to major in?
Well, what I wanted to major in is not an option. The program is for a Bachelor's of Liberal Arts, that's literally the only degree option. However, they do allow for some major and minor concentrations from a somewhat small but comprehensive list. Despite this, my original desire is still not offered. I wanted classics but that isn't an option so I will be pursuing a major concentration in literature instead, with a double minor concentration in creative writing & latin. That's the plan for undergrad, it changes for grad school, and again for doctorate school.
24. Describe your perfect study environment.
Ooh, that's a toughy. I don't think I've ever genuinely given this any sort of thought! A room all to myself first and foremost, other people in the room distract me in the worst ways. A good sized whiteboard, decent sized table, comfy chair—but not too comfy! I don't want it to entice me to nap you know?
A nice window for natural light during the day but with shades for privacy and good lighting in the room for night studying. Books lining at least one wall. I just realized I am literally describing my bedroom. I study in my room because it's comfortable, it's private, and everything is mine. I don't have to bug out for anyone else to study in there, I can organize it any way I want and my bed is opposite my desk, so when I run out of desk space I can use my bed as a second. It would be great however, if my family would stop thinking I'm available simply by being in the house, because that's disruptive and also prevents me from being able to put music in my ears.
30. What are you the proudest of out of all the assignments you've ever had?
I truly cannot narrow this down to one. I can give a half dozen that are equally tied and that's going to have to be okay.
I. In a rudimentary science course back in community college days, we had to do a project that involved posterboard and we could pick anything we wanted so long as we related it to science. I chose to show how science influenced the English language when it came to fictional sciences in media. I had to draw the periodic table of fictional elements by hand and that was pain to do. I still have that posterboard.
II. In a math class I did a project on the Fibonacci Sequence (I hate math but love number theory, figure that one out) and I tracked down a fun problem that demonstrates the sequence. If you have a pair of rabbits, and the female gestates for one month and then gives birth to a pair of rabbits, one female and one male, every month, and every female does this, how many pairs of rabbits will you have at the end of a single year?
I solved it two different ways: one using a mathematical proof (I skipped over the entire golden ratio aspect, that was beyond my comprehension at the time and probably still is) which guarantees the correct answer and the second way was solving it entirely by hand. I had the proof in the main part of the posterboard and my sheets of paper done by hand on the sides. It took me like 4 or six pages, several hours and erasings, and by the end of it all—I was off by one measly pair of rabbits. I am very proud of that project. I still have that posterboard as well.
III. In a survey course of the ancient Greeks our professor literally yelled at the entire class (freshman level mind you, give me a break) to "go deeper into the material." He didn't teach anyone on how to write a powerful paper in fewer words; he asked for 5 pages, double spaced and nothing more. We did the best we could with the instructions allotted us. So, after he yelled at a bunch of kids (I was the oldest and already had a degree—2-year degree), I gave him EXACTLY what he wanted:
A five page paper, double spaced, digging very deep into the material, with direct quotes from the Euripidean tragedy (the tragedy was Hecuba—highly recommend). I took screenshots of his essay instructions to back up what I did, and I was 100% prepared to go above his head to the Dean if need be. Not once, not once, did he say what sized font to use. I typed the entire thing in size 8 font. He accepted it and I got an A on the paper. He never yelled at the class again. FYI, he was the head of the department and my advisor. He could have squashed me like a bug.
IV. COVID-19 lockdowns hit spring semester, the last semester I had with my favorite professor in the entire school (same school as Mr. McYelly) before I withdrew permanently. This was a junior level (I was not a junior) Greek Civilization course for history and classics majors. It is still the hardest class I have taken to date. Harder than math even. I loved it, I truly did, but that research paper had me worried. I had not written a research paper in years (I'm older than typical college age) and I really wanted to do it on the parthenon. Before I could send in a request for my topic, she assigned the entire class the same topic to take stress off of us, due to the lockdowns: the parthenon.
I lucked out! I think my paper was over 10 pages but I'm not sure, however, it was the first time I had ever done a cover page or used footnotes. Furthermore, after my works cited page (which was like 3 pages on its own) I had an appendix for images—one of which I had to redraw by hand because it was impossible to scan it into the computer without breaking my antique book. I had to learn how to cite myself and the book at the same time. I got an A on that paper as well. It's uploaded on academia.net.
V. This summer (2021) I took a mandatory academic writing and critical reading course—it's part of the application process. The course had a theme, climate change. I went into the course not caring at all about climate change or even knowing anything about it. I walked out of that class with clearly defined opinions about climate change. My research paper was on the Paris Agreement and I tore that MFer to shreds. 9 pages of actual paper, 17 pages total. I had a very lengthy works cited page and two appendices: one for tables and one for math. It is not on academia.net as of yet, but it will be before the year is out.
VI. This past fall (fall 2020), I took an ancient Greek literature course that nearly ate me alive. It was so hardcore. We had an essay a week, but we're only allowed 500 words and are required to include a quote from the text we're working with, that supported our thesis—and it counted as part of our 500 words. On the one hand, it helped get you closer to 500 words, on the other hand, it meant you had even fewer words for the actual argument itself. O_O We were also required to rewrite at least two of these essays. <- That's an important tidbit for this story.
Our essay question was about Patroklus as therapon (substitute) for Achilles & one of the wedding poems of Sappho (I forget which one specifically). The groom is isos daimon (equal to a god) to Ares and as Achilles' therapon, Patroklos is isos daimon to Ares & Apollo. We had to discuss how the poem affected our understanding of Patroklos' role in the Iliad. I understood none of this in time for the essay. I had about two hours before the submission deadline and I decided, I cannot rewrite a paper that does not exist—I must turn in something, no matter how bad it is.
So, I invented my own essay question and spent 500 words answering that. I used the texts we all had been assigned that week, it was still about Patroklus, but the essay was based on a question that came out of my head and not from the Professor. I turned it in with a note promising that I'd use one of my rewrites on this paper (which I did—the end of the semester I finally understood what he had asked and redid the paper).
He accepted the paper as is, provided feedback on the paper I invented, tried to explain what he meant with the question, and gave me a freaking B on the paper...that I invented. When I rewrote it I got an A, so I did fix it. But still. I got a B on a paper that answered a question my professor didn't ask. That was freaking awesome.
36. Best feedback you've ever gotten on something academic.
Two, this past summer semester my professor stated more than once that my essays were "eloquent" and that is the highest praise I have ever gotten about my writing and it validated the many years of struggle it took to get my Associate's in creative writing.
The other was when my ancient Greek language professor hadn't finished grading everyone's Exam 2 but said, "I've graded a few and given a precursory look over the rest." Then she said, to the whole class that I was the ONLY one who got the A. I shouted for literal joy in the class and nearly gave a heart attack to the girl who sat behind me (who was always on her phone). Our professor then turned to the class (she had been writing on the chalkboard this whole time) and told them all this, "you know why she got the only A? Because she did every single thing on the exam. She did all of the extra credit but she did all of the exam work too. Section 1 I asked for you to translate 7 our of 20 words, she did all 20. She did every single thing, and got very few answers wrong. That is how you get an A in college."
I was stunned. I have never in my entire life been used as an example of how to do something. I have always been used as the example of what not to do. On a separate occasion she announced that I was the top student in the class, not to be mean, but more to put a fire under their butts to work hard and to encourage me. And it did. I've never been first, I've always been last.
I will carry all three of these instances with me for the rest of my life. I won't always be the top student, in fact, that was the only time I was the top student. But, I know if I work hard, I will do well. And my essays are eloquent, and my two year degree was not a waste.
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strwbrryeos · 5 years
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Kill Me Softly (and Quickly) 01
summary; Ask anyone and they’ll tell you, Jungkook is the best in the business. There’s no one he couldn't kill. Nothing he couldn’t do. But his latest job? Well, he might’ve gotten more than he bargained for. 
genre; royal au, angst, fluff, eventual smut
pairing; assassin!jungkook x prince!jimin
contains; mentions of abuse but it’s nothing graphic, being tied up (but not in the fun way), Taehyung is a dangerous man and hurts Jimin, Tae and Kook exchange blows
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a/n: so I finally jumped on the bandwagon and made a header for my fics but also it’s nice because now my computer isn’t trying to kill itself when I insert gifs. I'm gonna go and fix the layout of all my other fics too but I'm lazy so be patient with me. 
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Jungkook creeps slowly, quietly, careful not to let his body betray his presence as his feet step along the marble floors. His hand brushes against stone walls softly, feeling the cracks and crevices beneath gloves. It’s dark―he could barely see his own feet in front of him―but no matter; he’s a professional. His steps are precise and counted, not letting something as simple as darkness get in the way of his job.
He finds his destination shortly: a large, but empty, guest room, decorated high with extravagant tapestries and golden furniture. Jungkook snorts. He can’t imagine what the rooms look like for people who actually live here.
Long strides carry him to the other side of the room where moonlight pours in from a large window. He pries it open easily, expertly, and steps out, letting the fresh breeze wash over him. He takes a deep breath, praying to whatever god is out there (despite not believing in one at all) as he steps onto the balcony rail nearest the wall. His hands find solid gripping in the stone, and he carefully lifts himself, feet finding placement in the structure. Slowly, he climbs, scaling the building to the room right above, leaping quietly onto the terrace.
His skillful hands pick the lock before him, great glass doors opening to reveal a marvelous room, swimming with jewels and gems of all sorts, and Jungkook contemplates simply stealing what he can and selling it off; he’d certainly make a fortune that way. He shakes his head, eyes falling on his target: a small, sleeping figure in the canopy bed, body shielded by red sheets.
He stays close to the wall, his dark clothes hiding him in the shadows, as he sneaks around the room, closer to the bed. He moves in a large semi-circle around the room, wanting to see the face of his victim.
He doesn’t believe in hurting a man whose back is turned. (Not that a sleeping one is much better.)
He steps closer and closer to his prey, his feet still terribly quiet on the ground. He draws his blade, shining in the soft lowlight of the moon, and raises it, ready to strike. It’s only when he’s an inch or so away from the bed that he withdraws instantly, alarmed as the man stares at him with wide, open eyes.
Jungkook is so surprised―for a second he forgets how to move, his feet glued to the ground, not quite sure what to do. But then the man moves and he remembers, his legs beginning to move to flee the scene.
“Wait!” the man whisper-yells. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”
Jungkook freezes.
What?
He turns around, looking at him with confusion and curiosity.
The man speaks again, sitting up in bed. “Didn’t you come here to kill me? Aren’t you?”
Jungkook doesn’t know what to do or say; in all of his years of doing this he’s used to people begging to live, not pleading to die. He speaks softly, lowly, wanting an answer out of this man before doing anything else. “Why don’t you scream?”
“W-What?”
“Why don’t you scream for your guards if you know I’m here to kill you? They’re standing right outside your door.”
The man fidgets with his hands, playing with the blankets that cover his legs. “I… uh… well, I-I want to die, Mister, uh, Assassin, sir.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion, finally turning fully to face this man, this man who has everything. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth and never having to raise more than a finger to have the world on his feet, why, it’s everything Jungkook had ever dreamed of as a kid. Why wouldn’t he want it?
“Why?” asks Jungkook, completely dumbfounded. “You’re… You’re a prince―the prince. Prince Jimin, everyone adores you―you have everything.”
Jimin shakes his head. “And yet, I have nothing at all.” He sighs, looking at Jungkook deeply before standing, making his way towards him. Here Jungkook stands, an assassin, a killer, blade in hand (and many more beneath his coat), but he feels so powerless under the gaze of this man, this prince. He spreads his arms out wide, displaying his bare chest to Jungkook, head held high, and says, “Kill me.”
Jungkook frowns. This isn’t how this is supposed to work. “No.”
Jimin’s arms lower, his face mirroring the shock that Jungkook feels inside. “Why not? I thought this was your job!”
“Yeah, well, my job entails killing those who deserve it.”
“And I don’t?”
“Not in my book.”
Jimin pauses, then lunges at Jungkook. Jungkook is startled at first, but he pins Jimin against the wall easily, causing the smaller man to look up at him in a grin. “Do I deserve it now?”
Jungkook shakes his head and sighs, releasing the prince. “The king is the one who deserves it. I’m supposed to kill you for some political revenge plot, or something.”
Jimin―and Jungkook really can’t believe this―pouts as if someone just snatched his favorite toy away. “I’m his son. Doesn’t that mean I deserve it?”
“I cannot judge a man for the sins of his father.”
“Please?” Jimin whines, desperate, and Jungkook almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of this entire situation.
“If you truly were the devil they had made you out to be, then I think you would’ve been dead a long time ago.”
Jimin hangs his head, looking at his hands like he’s lost. “What if… what if I do something bad, you know?”
“What?”
“What if I… what if I steal? Or, or, what if I, um, what if I treat my servants horribly?” he bargains, “Is that enough?”
“I―”
“It is, right? You can play judge to my own sins, right?”
“I don’t―”
“Come back tomorrow, or the next day, or just, whenever you can, and then you can judge if I deserve to die. I’ll―I’ll even double your pay. Whatever they’re paying you now, I’ll double it.”
Jungkook looks at the prince, unsure and doubtful. “It’s a lot of money―”
“Please!” he shouts before slapping a hand over his mouth, realizing he was too loud. “Please,” he repeats again more softly.
Jungkook sighs; he’s never been one to turn down money, and he’s kind of interested to see where this will go. “Okay,” he relents. “Fine. Money is money.”
“Yes, yes, yes, thank you!” And then―and Jungkook is so, so sure that this is a fever dream now―Jimin hugs Jungkook in excitement before crawling back into bed, a giddy smile on his face.
Dazed, and unsure if that really just happened, Jungkook leaps off the balcony, disappearing into the night.
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Jungkook approaches Seokjin with a stern face, sitting down in front of him with not so much as a glance to the threatening growls of his bodyguards. Seokjin waves them away before taking a sip out of glass, and says, “Want a drink.”
Jungkook cuts to the chance. “I was offered more money to leave him alive.”
Seokjin splutters, coughing on the alcohol, the burn in his chest far worse than the burn in his throat. “W-What?” he asks incredulously. “Who could’ve known?” He narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “Did you tell someone? Did you scam me?”
Jungkook scoffs. “Scam you? You haven’t even paid me in full yet. I’m here to return it,” he says, placing a bag of money in front of Seokjin before snatching his own drink out of his hands, swirling it around a few times before sampling it.
Seokjin leans back in his chair, a look of both contempt and admiration adorned on his face. “They weren’t lying when they said you were a man of your word, huh?”
“I still have an honor code,” he says with a shrug.
“Says the killer.”
“You did hire me, no?”
Seokjin scowls, ordering a new drink. “Fine.” He pauses as the glass is placed in front of him. “Care to tell me who bought you off?”
“It’s a nondisclosure agreement,” he replies, taking another sip.
Seokjin leans forward, glancing around the room as he lowers his voice. “How much do you want?” He looks around the room again. “There are a lot of important people who want him gone.”
Mimicking Seokjin, Jungkook leans forward, dropping his voice exaggeratingly low. “How much are you gonna offer me? And why don’t you just dispose the king? Nobody likes him anyway.”
“That’s treason.”
“And killing his son isn’t?”
“His son doesn’t have any power.”
“Yet,” Jungkook says simply. “But he could.”
“And what if he rules exactly like his father?”
“You say this about a man who was raised by his mother.” Jungkook pauses, savoring the alcohol as it lingers on his tongue. “Tell me, Seokjin, hasn’t your father ever done things you weren’t proud of? Hurt people? Made them suffer? And was it your fault?”
“I am not my father,” Seokjin hisses.
“You’re right. You’re not.” Jungkook stands. “You’re your own man who did his own bad things. Don’t blame your sins on your parents. And don’t blame your parents’ sins on you, right?”
“Okay,” Seokjin says, putting his hands up in defeat. “I relent. But look, if you don’t kill that kid, then someone else will. Or at least, they’ll try. Everyone wants you, okay? You’re the best in the business. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”
“Look,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m here to do a job. If someone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me themselves.”
“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Jungkook,” Seokjin warns, relaxing back in his chair.
“No more dangerous than wearing a crown.” Seokjin raises his glass in cheers. “Goodnight, Seokjin.”
“Goodnight.”
Jungkook leaves, pulling his coat tighter as the night air hits him. His watch tells him it’s nearly five, though he only needs the sky to tell him that. A faint blue glow can be seen tainting the dark sky, and he suddenly remembers how tired he is.
Assassin’s work will do that to you.
He replays the entirety of the night’s events back in his mind as he walks, his brain remembering every single detail. Normally he’s replaying tears and terror, screams and blood as he makes peace with his actions, whispering an apology to the skies, but not tonight. No, tonight, he remembered what life was like. So delicate. So precious. So completely in his hands. He had forgotten.
Now he could remember, but all he could really see was Jimin’s face. So desperate, literally pleading with Jungkook to end him. Why? Why? What happened to him? Why was he so ready? And god, his eyes. Jungkook remembers his eyes. He stared into those eyes and he could only see himself, reflecting back all the pain that Jungkook felt.
Perhaps the royal life wasn’t as nice as he always thought it to be.
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Jungkook is quiet as he slips back into Jimin’s room two nights later; he might as well be a shadow on the ground. Jimin waits for him in the dark, eagerly bouncing up to him when he shows. “You came!” He frowns when Jungkook doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t let that deter him, pulling him onto a couch near the window. “Here’s your money,” he says, placing it delicately in Jungkook’s lap, the action surprising the taller man.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, causing the prince to smile brightly.
“You’re welcome!” He gets up, standing in front of Jungkook again. “Okay, I’m ready!”
Jungkook sighs, not making any movements except leaning back into the wonderfully comfortable cushion. “I’m not doing anything.”
“W-What? But you said you would! You said―”
“No, you said that you’d pay me to come back here and ‘judge’ if you were, what was it? ‘Deserving’? My answer is no.”
“No, no you promised.”
“Tell me what you’ve done then.” Jungkook crosses his legs comfortably, playing with his favorite knife, knowing damn well the prince hasn’t done anything remotely deserving of death.
“I yelled at my servant today!” Jimin says proudly.
Jungkook raises his eyebrow. “You apologized right after though, didn’t you?”
“Well I…” Jungkook doesn’t need Jimin to finish that sentence. The telling blush on his cheeks is all he needs.
“Seriously, Prince Charming, I can’t just come in here and kill you like that.” He smirks. “Not when you’re paying me so well.”
“What if I pay you more to kill me?”
“How’re you gonna pay me if you’re dead?”
“I can have someone―”
“I’ll be arrested.”
“Oh.”
Jungkook shakes his head, laughing a little. “You’re interesting, you know that?”
“Am I?” the prince asks, sitting back down beside Jungkook.
“You have everything, but the one thing you want the most is to die.” Jimin shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “Gonna tell me why?”
“I don’t even know you.”
“All the better, right? Get your frustrations out on a complete stranger that you’ll probably never see again.”
“If I pay you, will you come back again?” Jimin asks hopefully.
“You want to see me again?” Jungkook laughs.
“I don’t know,” Jimin says. Another shrug. “You don’t know me. You don’t expect anything out of me.”
“I expect your riches,” Jungkook replies with a sly smile.
“Oh. Right.”
“Come on now, Prince Charming, you’re really that disappointed?”
Jimin shakes his head, looking away as tears start to well in his eyes, and he hates himself for feeling so pathetic. “N-No. It’s fine. Kill me, don’t kill me. I don’t care. You have your money.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and stands. “Same amount,” he states.
“Huh?”
“Same amount as this”―he shakes the bag―“and I’ll come back in two nights.”
Jimin’s face lights up, tears now threatening to spill of happiness. “Will you really? Done! Done!” He bounces up, latching onto Jungkook excitedly. “Thank you!” he exclaims before letting go, smile beaming on his face.
Jungkook shakes his head, slightly embarrassed to have been hugged yet again by a self-destructive prince. (And a cute one at that.) He steps back a little, turning his attention to the sky outside, still dark and littered with stars. Good. “Time to go, I guess.”
“Really? Already?”
“I have been here a while, haven’t I?”
“Not at all! You still haven’t given me any advice yet!”
“Advice?” Jungkook asks with a puzzled face.
“On how to get you to kill me!”
Jungkook laughs, taking another step back. “Not happening.”
“What?” the prince whines. “Please? You said you would!”
“I said I’d play judge and executioner, not lead a good man to his end.”
Jimin beams. “You think I’m a good man?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”
Jimin sits back on the couch, patting the cushion beside him in an effort to get Jungkook to sit. To stay. Jungkook glances towards the window again, but it’s still dark, so he figures he still has time. A little longer can’t hurt.
“What’s your name?” Jimin asks as soon as the other man sits down. Jungkook’s eyes widen, a little taken aback. He’s not really in the business to expose his identity.
But this prince seems harmless, so he tells the truth. “Jungkook.”
“Jungkook,” the prince breathes, yes sparkling. “How do I be like you?”
“Like me?” the assassin laughs. “You don’t want to be like me.”
Jimin shifts on the couch, hands playing with themselves as he looks down at them. “But I do! I’m too nice! People walk all over me!”
“You just have to learn how to say no,” Jungkook says, “but in this world, I don’t believe ‘too nice’ exists.”
“If I were meaner, I bet life would be easier,” Jimin huffs quietly, but Jungkook can still hear him.
“Do you think I’m mean?”
“What? No! Not at all!” Jimin exclaims. “I didn’t―”
“Maybe I am. Maybe not. I don’t know. It’s not important. What is important is that I know what I want, and I do what a want.”
“You want to kill people?”
“I want to make money,” Jungkook replies. “Didn’t always mean to make a business of this.”
“Well how did you?” Jimin asks, curious eyes watching him. “Make a business out of this, I mean.”
“That’s a story for another day, Prince Charming,” Jungkook laughs. “Maybe next time.”
“You can call me Jimin, you know.”
“Okay, Prince Charming.”
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Sometimes―or really, all the time―Jungkook can’t help but wonder how Jimin is so positive. He always welcomes the younger with a smile on his face, reminding Jungkook that not everything in the world is evil.
“I did something bad,” Jimin says a little too smugly.
Jungkook laughs as he strips of his coat, reclining comfortably on Jimin’s luxury bed. (He could get used to a life like this). “Sure you did.”
“I did, really!”
“Do tell,” he says, eyes closed, soft smirk on his face.
“Okay, so―hey! You’re not even looking!”
“Yes I am.”
“Open your eyes, Jungkook.”
“Fine, fine.” Eyes open. Jimin standing over him. His heart rate picks up. Unexpected.
Jimin backs away, eyes crinkling with his smile. “Right, okay, so, a little kid fell down today, and I didn’t even help him back up.”
“That’s pretty bad,” Jungkook laughs. “You just left him there?”
“Yep! Yes I did!”
“What else?”
“What d’you mean?”
“What else did you do?”
“Uh… that’s all today.”
“Ah, I see.” Jungkook closes his eyes again. “He was already being helped up, wasn’t he?”
“I―”
“Don’t even try it, Prince Charming.”
Jimin sighs in defeat and flops down onto the bed next to Jungkook. “Okay. You got me.” He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Bad stuff.”
“Define ‘bad’,” Jungkook chortles, mind slowly slipping from the conversation because damn it’s a really comfy bed.
“I don’t know… just… everything you do. Your job, I guess.”
Jungkook opens his eyes again, sitting up to face Jimin. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t sound so disappointed. I didn’t get into this business because I wanted to be a killer when I grew up. It just kind of happened.”
“Yeah… I guess.”
“Jimin,” Jungkook says sternly, forcing the older to look him in the eye. “I know I make fun of you, but don’t change who you are, you hear me? Don’t become me.”
“But I―”
“Promise me.”
“But Jungkook―”
“Promise me.”
“Fine,” Jimin relents, “I promise.”
“You’re a good guy, Charming,” Jungkook says, relaxing again. “Be proud of that.”
“If I weren’t a good guy, you would’ve killed me the first time we met,” Jimin jokes dryly.
“No,” Jungkook laughs, “you were awake and you scared me. Wouldn’t have thought twice if I didn’t see eyes just fucking… staring into my soul like that.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Jimin asks, laughter starting to bubble its way to the surface.
“Not that! Scary as hell!”
“You’re the one who broke into my room, asshole!”
“This is true,” Jungkook replies, putting his hands up in surrender, “but that doesn’t give you the excuse to act like a fucking poltergeist.”
“Can’t believe the Big Bad Wolf is afraid of ghosts.”
“Look―”
“Are you afraid of monsters, too? Want me to check under your bed before you go to sleep?”
Jungkook’s nose scrunches with laughter, body shaking the bed. “Shut the fuck up,” he says, throwing a plush pillow at Jimin’s face.
There’s a beat of silence as the laughter slowly fades away, the only sounds being that of the wind blowing through the open balcony doors. Jungkook opens one eye, peeking outside to judge his time by the light of the moon. He doesn’t really register that Jimin has shifted, facing him on his knees, close enough to touch. “You’re a good guy too, you know,” he whispers, looking down at his hands.
The blue light from the moon is just enough to illuminate the light blush dusting his cheeks. Jungkook thinks it’s cute. “You’re the only one who thinks that, Prince Charming,” he laughs.
“No, no, I’m serious! Really!” he exclaims. His voice grows quieter. “You’re a lot better than you give yourself credit for.”
“Thanks, Charming, but don’t get the wrong idea about me,” Jungkook replies, glancing towards the night sky again. “I’ve done a lot of less-than-stellar things.”
“Not everyone’s perfect,” Jimin mumbles.
Jungkook laughs. “I can’t name one bad thing about you.”
“Bet you could if you tried hard enough.”
“Nope,” the younger says with a click of his tongue. “I’ll let you know if I think of one though.”
Silence follows again, but it’s comfortable. The both of them feel safe here, protected by the walls of Jimin’s bedroom. Their own little world that no one would know about and no one could ruin. They could be themselves here, secure enough to show the side that they keep so tightly hidden away. Only for each other’s eyes.
Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s there, or how long he’s asleep, but he wakes when sun leaks into the bedroom, bright and blinding. He looks down and finds Jimin curled against him, head on his chest, and it’s the first time that Jungkook’s seeing him in the day. There is no darkness to hide him here. His soft features, his tousled hair; he likes how at peace he looks.
The wooden doors creak as they open, and Jungkook moves quick, rolling Jimin over and leaping off the bed within a matter of seconds. The action startles Jimin awake, the young prince bolting up in bed. “What’s going on?” he asks Jungkook who only hushes him harsly in return.
“Good morning, my prince,” says an older woman, bringing with her a tray of food. She looks toward the open balcony. “Did you open these?”
“I like the fresh air.”
“You know how dangerous that is,” she scolds, moving to close it. “Anyone could just come on in!”
“My room is on the fourth floor.”
“You don’t know what kind of scum lives out there!”  
“They’re not scum!”
“And I’m a queen,” she retorts. “Here is your outfit for the day, and this one is for tonight. Your father is expecting you. Let’s hurry up.”
“I’ll dress myself today, thank you,” Jimin says curtly. “You’re dismissed.”
“A-Are you sure? I can―”
“It’s fine, really. Tell him I’ll be down shortly.”
The woman nods. “Alright.”
The door shuts, and Jungkook pops out of hiding, an exhilarated smile on his face. “Well that was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Get out,” Jimin laughs, shoving him toward the door. The prince opens them, standing aside.
Jungkook jogs to the balcony, about to make his leap off before he turns over his shoulder and says, “I got it, Charming.”
“Got what?”
“Your bad trait.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You see the good in everyone except yourself.”
And like that, he’s gone.
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Jungkook slips into Jimin’s room every two nights, a comfortable pattern that adds a stability he didn’t know he was missing in life. He scales the castle’s walls like he’s done so many times before and approaches the balcony door, only to find it locked. He jiggles the handle, surprised because Jimin normally leaves it open for him, excited to see him after a long day of royal duties.
“Jimin?” he calls without answer. He picks the lock swiftly, remembering the first time he came here, and enters quietly. “Jimin?” Anxiety settles in the pit of his stomach; the bed is perfectly made, untouched. Jimin’s usual before-bed snack sits at his bedside, having gone cold. Jungkook’s almost tempted to go look for him before the great wooden doors are swinging open and Jimin is walking in.
He looks supremely prince-like, a look Jungkook had yet to witness, and he carries an air of authority that would normally have Jungkook scowling with hatred. The doors shut behind him, a few servants whispering for a task, but he waves them off.
Jimin crumbles onto the floor, broken whimpers that just sound so out of place coming out of his mouth. Jungkook’s used to sneaking around, but he feels uncomfortable here in the dark, violating the prince’s privacy. He wants to close his eyes; he wants to go and help him; he wants to leave. He can’t decide as Jimin’s body is wracked by silent sobs, and the prince curls onto the floor, looking ready to stay there the entire night. But a loud bang sounds from somewhere down the corridor (Jungkook thinks a servant closed a door too hard) and Jimin yelps, scurrying into his bed like the blankets will protect him from whatever he’s afraid of.
Jungkook’s been here way too long, makes a move for the balcony without being heard, but the movement of the light on the wall is enough to alert Jimin, and the young prince sits up in bed, eyes wide and watery.
“J-Jungkook…”
“Hey, Prince Charming,” Jungkook says awkwardly. “Uh, I’ll come back later, okay?”
“Don’t,” Jimin whispers so softly that Jungkook almost misses it.
“Uh, what?”
“Please…”
“Jimin I―”
“Kill me, please,” Jimin begs, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s clutching the sheets. He stares Jungkook down, pleading. “I’ll do anything, please…”
Jungkook’s face softens as he approaches his friend. “Jimin…”
“No, no, no, don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me,” Jimin commands. “Don’t―”
“Jimin, I don’t understand―”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t…”
“Jimin―”
“Stop calling me that!”
Jungkook jumps back a bit, startled by Jimin’s outburst. “I don’t… Jimin, talk to me, please? What’s going on?”
“Just kill me… kill me…”
“Hey,” Jungkook says softly, gently bringing Jimin into his arms, “it’s okay, you’re okay, right? I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m not gonna kill you. What happened?”
Jimin only sniffles, gripping Jungkook tightly. “N-Nothing,” he murmurs, shifting more comfortably in Jungkook’s lap.
Jungkook laughs, wondering how this man wedged himself into his life and heart. He’s certainly got a soft spot for him. “You’re a terrible liar.” The prince looks up, giving Jungkook a smile, but it turns into a frown when Jungkook tries to give him a reassuring squeeze, and he winces in pain.
Realization hits him all too quickly.
“Shit,” he says, and Jimin starts crying again, trying to pull himself out of Jungkook’s embrace. “No, no, hey, it’s okay, please.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Jimin begins, “I should― you should―”
“Take a deep breath for me, can you do that?” Jungkook asks, rubbing circles on the prince’s back. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”
“With you,” Jimin repeats.
Jungkook nods. “With me. Why don’t we get you cleaned up, huh?”
Jimin agrees, letting Jungkook carry him into the bathroom where he places him on the counter, giving his head a quick pat before wetting a towel. He dabs at the tears on Jimin’s face and searches for the bandages he knows are hiding away in the cabinets. He stands and pinches the material of Jimin’s jacket between his fingers. “Can I…?” Jimin nods and sheds the jacket, revealing dark bruises on his arms. Jungkook frowns, all too familiar with the pain. He wraps as much of the skin as he can in a cool cloth. “Feel better?”
“Yeah.”
“Are there any more?”
“What?”
“Are there any more bruises?”
“N-No,” Jimin says, but Jungkook knows he’s lying.
“Come on. It’s me. Your good ol’ would-be-murderer best friend,” he laughs. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I know, it’s just…”
“What?”
“There’s a lot.”
“I know. That’s okay. Please show me. I want to make sure there aren’t any cuts or blood, okay?”
Jimin nods again. “Okay.” He sheds himself of his shirt, almost immediately trying to cover himself up.
Jungkook grabs his hands gently and pulls away, examining the marks. “It’s okay. I’m just gonna clean this cut up here, okay?”
“Okay.” Jungkook’s hand is steady as it works, having done it so many times before. Jimin watches him the entire time, doesn’t say a word until he’s done. “How often do you do this?” he asks.
“What?”
Jimin blushes. “You know, uh, clean up, I guess.”
Jungkook shrugs casually. “Did it most of my life.”
Jimin’s lip quivers as Jungkook helps him back into his clothes. “You didn’t deserve that,” he whispers.
“Neither do you.”
“Yeah but I―”
“Nope,” Jungkook cuts him off, placing a finger over his mouth. “Don’t wanna hear it. You don’t deserve it. Come on, it’s late. You should get to bed.”
He leans back down to put stuff away, not expecting Jimin to say, “Will you stay?”
Jungkook jumps, bumping his head on the cabinet. “Fuck!” he exclaims, though he feels better at the smile on Jimin’s face. He laughs slightly, rubbing the forming bump on his head. “I don’t know…”
“Please? I just… I need a friend. I don’t wanna be alone.”
Jungkook hesitates, but he really can’t say no. “Okay.”
“Here, do you want something more comfortable wear? I have a lot,” Jimin says, hopping off the counter and scurrying into his closet.
“No, no, it’s okay―”
“You can wear this. It’s big and it’s comfy.” He pulls out a sweater, running the fabric between his fingers.
“I can just sleep in this, Jimin.”
The prince clutches the sweater tight before releasing it, throwing it at Jungkook’s head. “Don’t call me that.”
“Call you what? Your name?”
“You always call me ‘Prince Charming.’”
“I’ve called you your name before. That’s just a nickname.”
“Well, I like it,” Jimin says simply, stripping himself of his day clothes.
“What’s so wrong with your name? I’ve called you that before.”
Jimin shakes his head, distaste clear on his face. “It’s a terrible name.”
“I think it’s a great name,” Jungkook replies as he changes.
Jimin crawls into bed, burritoing himself under the comforter. “It’s what he calls me.”
“Oh.” Jungkook pauses before slipping into bed alongside Jimin, a comfortable amount of distance between them. “What would you rather I call you?”
“Anything else,” Jimin says with a shrug.
“Mr. Prince? Your Royal Highness? Sir Charming?”
“Shut up,” the prince giggles, tossing a pillow at the man beside him.
“What? You’re the one who wanted me to stay.”
“Whatever. Go to sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah. You know, I could get used to sleeping in this bed. Way comfier than mine.”
Jimin’s laugh echoes in the night air. “Are you taking advantage of our friendship?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jungkook jokes, earning him a slap on the arm. “Seriously! Why’re you always throwing stuff at me or hitting me?”
“You deserve it!”
“Go to sleep, Your Majesty. And stop hitting me.”
There is no moon out tonight, leaving the room blanketed in darkness. Though they say nothing, both men lay wide awake, looking blankly at the ceiling. Jungkook’s spent so much of his time sneaking around in the shadows, it’s his comfort zone. No one to watch or judge you here.
But his fingers pull at each other, trying to find a way to calm himself down because he feels so vulnerable. Where the dark is normally his safe place, as he lays in Jimin’s bed, he can’t help but feel like he’s on display for the world. Jimin fidgets and his breath hitches, and he only breathes again when the prince settles back down.
He’s not sure how long he’s laying there before Jimin travels over the distance between them and curls right up beside him. “Thank you,” Jimin whispers sweetly before his breathing evens out and he’s drifting off.
Jungkook’s eyes never shut but to blink.
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Two nights later and Jungkook doesn’t find himself in Jimin’s room, but rather, back at that same bar, a pile of cash sitting in front of him. He sort of wishes he hadn’t broken routine, coming to rely on the therapeutic comforts of the prince’s room and presence just a little too much, but this is good for him, he thinks. He needs to remember who he is.
“And this is for?”
“Finishing the job,” Seokjin says, “if you can handle it.”  
Jungkook shrugs. “I work where the money is. The money says to keep him alive.” That’s a lie. Jungkook stopped accepting money from Jimin long ago; he simply needed a friend in his life, but he’s not going to bring that up. It’s a conflict of interest.
“Perhaps I should have other people talk to you, hm?”
Jungkook leans forward on the table, eyes piercing and voice low. “Is that a threat, Seokjin?”
“It might be,” says the elder with a casual shrug, looking at him passively. “I’m just trying to get some work done, you know?”
“You’re a respected advisor. Wonder what would happen if word of your political ploy got out.”
“Now is that a threat, young Jungkook?” Seokjin laughs. “That’d be rich.”
Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. “I’ve never really been into politics, you know?”
“Look, you handle the dirty stuff, I’ll handle the politics, deal?”
“Where’s the benefit?”
“You know, they told me to come to you because you don’t ask questions.”
“I think I’m obligated to when you’re threatening to undermine a country, Seokjin.”
“I’m just doing what’s best for the people!”
“You’re doing what’s best for you!” Jungkook laughs. “Do you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know that you won’t turn your back on me the second you get the chance? Throw me in jail just to bring yourself up?”
Seokjin falters, eyes darting away from Jungkook’s cold gaze. “We’re all just trying to do a job here,” he mutters, earning an eye roll.
“I’ll come back tomorrow for my payment,” Jungkook says as he stands, slipping on his coat.
“Your what? Are you changing your mind?”
“The money isn’t for the job, Seokjin. It’s to keep my mouth shut.”
“Ah, you’ll regret that,” he says, a smile on his face, but Jungkook pays him no mind, and he’s out the door within the minute.
The night air is soothing on his skin as he walks out, and his feet carry him to the only place he wants to be. He isn’t really thinking about it, just knows that it feels right. It’s where he’s supposed to be. Maybe it’s because Jimin is his only friend and his only sense of home.
Yes, Jimin is home.
He’s scaling the walls effortlessly again, feet touching comfortably down on the balcony with hardly a sound. He moves to open the door, formulating some witty greeting in his head before he’s suddenly being pushed down, wind knocked out of him as he tumbles into the room.
“Jungkook?” he hears Jimin ask, distress evident.
“Oh? You’re on a first name basis?” says a new voice, and Jungkook rolls his eyes, distaste on his tongue.
“Taehyung,” he spits, “what the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m doing what you couldn’t,” he answers simply, climbing off the younger. “It’s a win-win for everyone involved, you know? I get the money. You get the blame. Seokjin gets his fix, right?”
“Seokjin,” Jungkook laughs. “Should’ve known he’d pull a stunt like this.”
“Ah, but you made it so easy! Gotta say, too, never would’ve thought to come in like this. But who would’ve thought the pretty prince would’ve been waiting for you all this time, hm? How’d you manage to bed a pretty thing like this?”
“Shut up,” Jungkook hisses, rage flaring in his eyes. He squirms under Taehyung’s weight, but it’s no use. He has him pinned.
“What? C’mon now, don’t be like that. You know how it is. Just business. Now stop― stop fighting. I need you alive, otherwise they’re gonna know that someone else did it.”
“I’m gonna kill you. I swear to fucking god I’m going to kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung says dismissively, “you can try. Seriously, stop moving, you’re making this harder than it has to be.”
Jungkook ignores him, still fighting his hardest as Taehyung tries to restrain him, and his eyes meet Jimin’s, frozen in fear. It’s a stark contrast from when he first met him, so eager to die, but now he stands, paralyzed because, yes, he wants to live, but not without Jungkook.
“Jungkook…” he whispers.
“That’s cute,” Taehyung laughs. “He cares about you.”
“Please don’t hurt him,” Jimin pleads as tears begin to fall down his face. “H-He hasn’t done anything.”
“Hasn’t done anything? Do you know who he is at all?” Taehyung sits back, having finally restrained Jungkook who’s nothing more than a useless lump on the floor. Taehyung slips a blade into his hand, the steel reflecting in the light. “He’s the most prolific killer in this business,” he says, gesturing to Jungkook with the knife. “Everybody wants him. Always asking him to do the job instead because he gets it done quickly, quietly, and no questions asked.” Taehyung scowls like he’s eaten something rotten. “I fucking hate him.”
“He only didn’t kill me because I paid him more not to!” Jimin retaliates. “If it’s money you want,  then money you’ll get!”
“Ah,” Taehyung replies sweetly, “this isn’t about money, pretty. This is about how I’m going to be literally hailed as a god for taking the great Jeon Jungkook down to his knees. Who would’ve thought, huh?”
“Jimin,” Jungkook says from his place on the floor. “Get out. Get the fuck out. Run!”
“Jungkook―”
Taehyung’s on Jimin within a second, slapping a hand over his mouth. He presses his knife against Jimin’s exposed neck and says, “Yell one more time and I will bleed him out in front of you.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything in response, only looking at Jimin desperately, wanting nothing more than to protect him.
“This’ll be fun,” Taehyung continues. “My own little game for the night. Don’t worry, though. You’ll be dead by the time the sun rises.”
Jungkook’s heart races as he watches Taehyung toy with Jimin, sitting him down and whispering threats in his ears. He has until sunrise. How the hell is he supposed to get out of this one?
Minutes feel like years, and Jungkook has to figure out how to ignore Jimin’s cries as he conjures a plan. Yes, Taehyung is good, but Jungkook is better. Always has been, always will be. Taehyung wasn’t lying; Jungkook is the best in the business.
Luckily for him, he’s been tied up plenty of times. And hijacked a job? Hell, he invented that game. Taehyung forgot who he was dealing with.
And as soon as he got free, he’d remind him.
Taehyung faces away from him, dragging his knife against Jimin’s bare thigh as he struggles and cries against him. “Jungkook!” he sobs, and Jungkook swears that having to endure this will be the hardest thing he’s ever done.
“Shut up,” Taehyung hisses, “or maybe you’d rather I played with him instead?”
“No,” Jimin cries, “no, please. I can take it.”
Jungkook writhes harder. “Leave him alone, asshole. Leave him alone!”
Taehyung laughs again, his cruel voice piercing the night. “And what are you going to do about it, Jeon?”
“I’m going to kill you. I swear I’m going to kill you.” Jungkook pulls his hands against the rope, forcing the tension that keeps him bound. Taehyung only rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Jimin, leaving the younger killer unattended. Jungkook flips onto his back and sits himself up; he rotates his wrists as much as he can back and forth, causing the rope to lose some of its tightness. Taehyung is still preoccupied with Jimin, so he doesn’t notice Jungkook inching himself backwards.
The brunette bumps into the glass coffee table and silently thanks the royals’ expensive taste. He leans forward, bringing his bound hands up to the corner of the table and pulls against it with all his strength.
The rope loosens, falling off of Jungkook’s wrists easily. He quickly undoes those on his feet, and he’s launching himself on Taehyung before he can even think twice.
“How the fuck―”
Jungkook lands a swift blow. “Best around, remember?”
“Get off!” Taehyung shoves him off and makes a break for the balcony doors.
“You really think I’m gonna let you off like that?”
“Look, look”―Taehyung puts his hands up in defense, eyes darting around frantically―“you don’t want to kill me in front of pretty boy there, right? I know you don’t. Let me go and I won’t tell anybody about this, okay? Okay, you have my word. On my honor, I swear.”
Jungkook is preferential to ignoring him entirely; he’d like to see him in a pool of blood, but a voice pipes up behind him. “Just… just let him go,” sobs Jimin. “Jungkook, please… help me.”
The younger takes an intimidating step towards Taehyung who flinches in fear. “On your honor,” he repeats. “But I swear if I ever see you again, I will kill you on sight. On. My. Honor.”
“On your honor.” Taehyung nods, agreeing quickly. “I swear. I’m sorry, I won’t―”
“Leave before I change my fucking mind.”
Taehyung bolts, not giving Jungkook a chance, silently cursing him as he leaps off the balcony. Jungkook dashes for Jimin, the poor prince still wrapped in ropes. He releases him quickly, and Jimin falls into a heap on the floor, unable to stop the tears.
“I was― oh my god―” he sobs, “I thought he was gonna kill you―”
“Hey, hey,” Jungkook soothes, cradling him in his arms, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay, right? Look at me, Charming. C’mon.”
Jimin blinks at him through teary eyes. “I was so afraid,” he whispers.
“I know. I know, but it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here.”
“Please don’t leave me,” Jimin says, clambering at Jungkook’s shirt. “I can’t― you can’t―”
“I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”
Jimin shakes his head furiously, trying but failing to say more. “I don’t…” His breathing stutters, and he’s sobbing again into Jungkook.
“It’s okay. Take your time. What is it?”
“I just…” He takes a deep breath, coming up to stare at Jungkook long and hard, eyes watery and puffy. His grip on Jungkook tightens, and he brings himself up to Jungkook, kissing him hard and full.
Jungkook is startled, tries to pull away, but the prince holds his head, pleading, desperate for more. Melting into the kiss is all he can do. They fall together in tandem, hearts thumping loudly in the darkness as their breaths turn heavy and their tongues collide.
“Stay,” Jimin whispers against his lips. “Please.”
“This is the only place I want to be.”
134 notes · View notes
etherian-affairs · 5 years
Note
For a fic prompt: Pygmalion/Galatea-ish concept where Entraptra finds Hordak (severely damaged cybernetics, powered down/sleep mode) & decides to rebuild him into the perfect Lab Partner (her umpteenth attempt at building one) w/o knowing what she’s going to end up with. Hordak wakes up to exquisitely repaired/partly rebuilt body, b/c Entraptra uses First One’s tech in the rebuild, so it’s that aesthetic blended w/Horde design (think Alita/Gally’s 2nd rebuild “angel” body in Battle Angel Alita).
HERE WE GO KIDDOS. I hope you like it friend.
This actually gets to be a crossposted with Ao3 because it’s long enough to meet my requirements for Ao3 posting.
Story under the read more.
Red across the board. Matching the state of the ship crumbling around Hordak. The would be Lord stumbles through collapsing metal corridors, barely able to keep his balance. The crash was devastating. He had tried everything to soften it but with so much crew already lost there was almost nothing to be done. Now it seemed the rest were gone too.
Soon Hordak would be as well.
He manages to get into the sanctum, the lab. A last ditch effort for survival keeping him moving. His body is ravaged. Beyond what even his species biology and his many augmentations can handle. As he steps into the sanctum his broken leg finally gives, the bone cracking and snapping. He howls in pain. So close to his goal. Slowly he drags himself with his one good arm to the secondary maintenance bay in the sanctum. 
He grabs at one of the dangling data cables and slams it into the port at the base of his neck, issuing commands quickly. Hoping the computers can still decipher them. As sparking damaged manipulators extend Hordak feels himself going under. His last moment of consciousness nothing but his diagnostic feed.
-WRNG: TTL_SYS_FAIL\\Fallback To Core Function Mode.\\Life Support Priority.\\Nanocyte Protocols Engaging.
The Fright Zone was dangerous they said. A lifeless land destroyed by the Dark Comet. A place that makes the Crimson Wastes look downright fertile! Hah! How wrong they were! You just had to know where to look.
Entrapta had been curious about this place her whole life. Years and years and years ago the Dark Comet fell out of the sky. It nearly wiped out the scorpion people entirely. They’re still a refugee people to this day in fact, with no land to call their own. The black Garnet Runestone was lost, presumed destroyed, at the time too. The Dark Comet’s crashing had changed Etheria a lot.
And from a distance it looked like it was made of metal. Refined metal. 
For decades it had been too dangerous to even approach the comet. People would get sick at the fringes. Further in burns and things would start to mysteriously appear! Even bots would fizz out and fail! but as time went on it appeared that the exclusion radius around it was shrinking.
Entrapta has been keeping track of the dissipation rate her entire life. 
Now her time had come! The energies that hurt people seemed to be mostly gone! And she had some extra protection she had developed just in case there were stray energies left on site! So Entrapta journeyed to the Fright Zone to be the first to see the Comet up close and live to tell about it.
It was wonderful.
Her theories were right. It’s metal. Not just that it’s constructed. Some sort of vast vessel! Larger than any person made structure she’s ever seen! She spends hours alone exploring the exterior. Falling back only as the light begins to recede from the world in order to rest, set up camp, and make sure she’s not getting sick. 
The next day she actually makes her way inside, and it is even more incredible than the exterior. It’s tech all the way through. Corridors apparently made for humanoid habitation. Dead terminals at regular intervals. Piled up robots of strange designs that seem to have run out of power years ago.
And the bodies.
It isn’t Entrapta’s first run in with the dead, in fact she has done her fair share of dissection and anatomy studies, but it’s still not a common occurrence and there are many here. That is unnerving even for the normally unflappable Princess of Dryl. Most of the dead are in armor or uniforms of different kinds. Their bodies eerily well preserved considering their age. Perhaps the energies that until recently made this place impossible to enter also stopped decay? That would be odd but anything is possible here. 
Entrapta takes her audio recorded notes and then tries to largely ignore the bodies that litter the Comet. They are admittedly interesting in many ways. They are yet more confirmation that the comet is some sort of vessel, and that many appear to be from species she has seen on Etheria. They are not something she likes very much though.
Inevitably Entrapta’s exploration leads her into a large throne chamber. An interesting place to be sure. The room off to the side is much more interesting however. The door is open and even from a distance she can see the many containment tubes within, some broken, others still standing with strange murky figures held within. Tools littering the floor. Bolted down tables some of which have items still on them somehow. This side room is a lab. She would know a lab anywhere.
It does not take long for her to see the body in here. It’s different from all the others in many ways. For starters this one is not like anything she’s seen on Etheria. Its species is completely unknown, some sort of batlike humanoid? It also clearly has tech integrated directly into its body! In fact there is a cable connecting it to… well the vessel itself Entrapta supposes. The cable leads into a mass of them up above and she can’t track where exactly it all goes.
The body is heavily damaged. The limbs are all in various states of destruction, there are what are clearly large gashes on the creatures torso. She suspects that numerous bones must be broken. Yet at each open break there is an unnatural silvery film. Like a sealant. It’s strangely jagged and irregular and seems to move around itself like a liquid. It’s kind of like something Entrapta has seen from some first ones tech experiments she has performed, trying to make self repairing robots. 
Except this isn’t repairing, more like it’s just trying to keep things from getting any worse. Could this person have been a scientist? Trying to integrate first ones tech into the body to save their own life?
That’s when Entrapta sees the nearly imperceptible movement. This isn’t a corpse. This one’s alive. Whatever they did worked.
The Princesses entire plan for this journey changes immediately. 
She spends hours examining every nook and cranny of the lab. Gathering everything she can. Making trips in and out of the Comet to her little camp. Her work extends out from there, picking apart and salvaging from other parts of the ship. She needs tech, their tech. 
She journeys to and from Dryl more than once. Readying herself for what might be her greatest experiment, and what will definitely be her most harrowing. On the final trip she disconnects the lab entity from the cable attached to its spine. It took her awhile to be sure that would not hurt it, and she waited until it was the last thing to do even when she was sure. It’s also just not a pleasant thing to move this creature as the barely held together limbs start to really come apart at the slightest jostle.
It does not wake from whatever stasis it is in.
The final journey to Dryl is slow and careful, but once safely in her own lab the work begins in earnest. 
This lab creature is probably a scientist as she has previously noted to her recorder, at the very least it is more intelligent than the others aboard the ship. It’s alive. Entrapta can repair it, she’s sure she can. Secretly, deep down, she hopes that maybe she’ll finally have that lab partner she keeps trying to create. They never turn out how she wants, she just doesn’t have the skills in making true thinking machines from scratch.
With that secret hope, and the theory that this thing must be a scientist, Entrapta decides on her repair strategy. She will give it the best science body she can! Which given that this is Princess Entrapta also means it will probably be a great body for warfare too! She seems to just make weapons on accident a lot of the time.
Initial exploration of the flesh is promising. There’s tech woven all throughout the body that she can piggyback off of. She has this creatures salvaged tech from the ship to make use of too. Thus the broken limbs are tossed aside, unneeded. Internal biological organs are atrophied and weak. Whatever is keeping this thing alive is focusing on the brain. Entrapta will lean in to that. Don’t need most of those then.
Still most of this will be original work and integration will be difficult. The Princess soon decides on a radical solution. She will use First Ones tech as a bridge, and an enhancement. Some of what’s going on with the lab creature looks very similar to First Ones tech anyway! So it will almost definitely probably work! 
At first Entrapta worries the creature will suddenly awaken, giving her a big startle, but that soon doesn’t appear to be likely as it just lays there half dead even as she digs into its body with knife and power tools. There’s a joke about being a heavy sleeper there somewhere.
Limbs, organs, and flesh are all replaced with tech and metal. The more she works, the more she realizes she needs to remake or else she won’t be able to integrate it all. The only reason she can do this at all is that the silvery film and the First ones crystal she has chosen as a base seem to be able to attach to each other. Soon enough though a repair job becomes a total rebuilding of the creatures body with First Ones tech at its core. The initial synthetic components within being almost all she can keep. 
It’s exciting. Princess Entrapta is pushing the boundaries of known science. She is combining First Ones, Etherian, and Alien technologies all together with biology she barely comprehends. She has no idea what the end result of this will be yet even that unknown is too fascinating to ever let her stop and think about the potential consequences of her radical actions.
When she’s finally done she realized that she has no idea how to wake the being up. It’s actually kind of funny. Still the creature remains alive, if non-functional, and isn’t going anywhere. She has time to figure out how to boot it back up.
-SYS_CHK-STS_UPDT\\Foreign Hardware Detected.\\Initializing Integration Stack.\\Compiling System Profile.
The diagnostic feed was all Hordak knew of the world beyond his own mental prison, and it was not much. A quiet eternity of his consciousness being occasionally fed an array of error messages and warnings he could do nothing about.
When one of the system checks finally detected a change he had a brief nanosecond of shock before his consciousness returned to the black box dreams that kept him sane.
-STS_UPDT\\Hardware Profiling Complete.\\Compatibility Registration Underway.
Profiling and Compatibility Registration?  Whoever was working on him wasn’t Horde. The checks wouldn’t be taking multiple stages to complete with approved replacement parts.
Again his mind falls away before he gets a chance to really ponder what is happening to him.
-STS_UPDT-SYS_RBT\\Compatibility Registration Complete.\\Rebooting Core Functions.\\Rebooting Extended Functions.\\All Systems Online.\\Re-initializing Higher Brain Function.
Hordak gasps as his senses return, as his mind can touch a world outside of the blackbox keeping it alive. His fingers curl and claw into the metal table he’s on. They literally dig into it. That’s not quite right. He raises his arm to look at it and finds an alien limb there. A completely synthetic arm and hand. Impeccably machined metal and tuned actuators. It looks like Horde tech, yet not. There’s foreign influence, clean lines and coiled strength. Gleaming chromium metal that glints in the light of wherever he is. 
Then he realizes that the rest of him is the same. Looking down he finds his body largely replaced. Metal plates interlocking and familiar combined with what seems to be some sort of memory alloy to create flexibility. He has seen nothing quite like this in all of his years. How did any of this integrate?
Before he can pull the hardware profile up and begint to try to decipher what has been done to him he notices he’s not alone. A short woman with ridiculously long hair is staring at him in surprise from near a large display. He’s about to speak when she gets the first word in. 
“WOW! I was looking in to how to wake you up but you just did it yourself! How? Why? Did you know you were being repaired? Did you know I was done? How though? Oh! Sorry! Welcome to Dryl! I’m Princess Entrapta I rebuilt you! What’s your name?”
Hordak is taken aback by the loud spunky attitude before him. There’s a lot to process here. Inevitably he decides to simply answer her questions. “Hordak. My name is Hordak." 
There is much for both of them to learn.
19 notes · View notes
megbox · 4 years
Text
2019 Year in Review
Previous Posts: (2018) (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011) 
It’s actually kind of interesting how... less interesting these year-in-reviews get as I get older. Depending on how you look at it, 2019 was somewhat of an unremarkable year. I spent much of it tragically broke, I didn’t get the opportunity to do much traveling. But at the same time, not having these flashy, colourful experiences to write about all the time makes me value the easy, simple things more. It forces me to be a bit more reflective about how the day-to-day life I am carving out for myself teaches me things and about the person I am becoming. 
Far and away, the most positive thing to come out of 2019 has been that I am real deals social worker now. I have the best job in the entire world. I have “RSW” in my email signature and on my business cards. I do work that is meaningful to me every single day. There is so much to learn but I’m in the right place to be learning it. And I am really proud of myself for getting here ❤️
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January 
Unlike the last few years, 2019 began on a high note. The millisecond that student loan hit my direct deposit, I took a little trip to Jasper to visit my friend Oliver who was teaching snowboarding at Marmot Basin for the season. I braved some very treacherous roads to make it to Jasper. It took me nearly eight hours. Highway 93 was closed so I had to take the long route and basically white-knuckled it the whole way. But it was so worth it. I found myself later that evening in a dorm room full of young Scandinavian people, downing American Vintage iced teas and feeling like I was at a frat party. We went to this club called Four Peaks and they played Rasputin by Boney M and everyone went crazy. I hooked up with this gorgeous Danish ski instructor named Rasmus. He was so beautiful. I am proud of that one, honestly. Oliver and I went skiing and hiking and we went to Earl’s and he tried a Caeser. By the end of the weekend, I think we maybe ran out of things to talk about. But it was really cool to see him and to hear about the last few years of his life and how excited he was to move to New Zealand to be with his girlfriend (whom he met on the same trip where he and I met, in Hawaii!)
On January 14, I started my second practicum. It was a sad transition. My time at CommunityWise had been so great that anything new was going to pale in comparison but my new placement was especially bad. It was so slow there. My computer hadn’t been updated in years and I didn’t have access to anything for weeks. My supervisor was barely around (not her fault, though. She was finishing her MSW, had two young children, was the team lead for both family centres in the city and had two practicum students to supervise. Girl was busy). I remember one morning while I was helping one of the caseworkers with some menial task like organizing the food pantry, and I was just so frustrated, I kind of asked her point-blank, “Is this practicum meant to be more self-directed?” and I just started crying as I asked it. I kind of… whimpered it. It was awkward but from that point on, they made way more of an effort to give me tasks and engage me in the work that was being done there. Lesson learned: you get what you ask for.
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February  The first weekend of February is what we would call a “power weekend.” Looking back on these actions now, I cringe. However, at the time, I was pretty stoked. I slept with a friend from podcast club after a house party. For ease, I will refer to him as W. W had asked me out twice prior to this happening. I actually said yes, and we had plans to get drinks, but his best friend ended up going through a breakup the night before and he cancelled last minute. So then we slept together. Drunkenly. And it wasn’t… good. I chalked it up to the drunkenness. We went out on a real date, I made sure to have like one glass of wine maximum. He was lovely and great company and he taught me how to play crib but… you know that feeling when you’re like god, I wish I was enjoying this but I am just not enjoying this. It was like that all night. And it felt heavy. If I am being completely honest, there was also this strange moment that night where I had the thought, “he kind of looks like my grandfather if he were younger” and there is truly no recovering from that kind of realization.
February was also a terrible month because I had no days off. I will go to my grave angry about being required to work for free in my practicums. I was doing 32+ unpaid hours at this boring practicum and then working evenings and weekends at Famoso whenever I could. And Famoso was dead, so I wasn’t even making good money. This was also where I began to start witnessing things in my practicum that started to fuck with me. At first, I thought I was just having trouble sleeping. But over time in seminar and debriefs with my social work friends who were going through the same thing I realized that it was the oh-so-pleasant combination of vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue. 
Over the reading week, I went to Fernie with Maddy and her friends for a ski/party weekend and that was truly awesome. One of those weekends where your ribs ache for days once you’re back because you laughed so hard. Some highlights: 
It snowed 60cm the night before we skied. It was powder up to your waist. 
• Maddy’s friend Melissa liked our bartender at the hostel. She took his phone and texted herself from it so he would have her number and vice versa. Then she got so drunk that later the same evening, she was looking at the text and forgot that she had sent it to herself so she texted back, “Who is this?” Also LOL #Bryna. 
• I took nudes of Maddy in the hostel shower to send to the guy she was seeing at the time. LOL. What are friends for? 
• Maddy and I met this set of twins who are the definition of gym bros. Identical twins. We ended up hooking up with them. At the same time. In our bunk bed at the hostel. We high fived. I later fell off the top bunk. We gave them a beer for the road when they left. All year long, we send one another their Instagram posts and stories whenever it’s them flexing in the gym mirror and just laugh about, “we really slept with those guys.” 
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March 
In March, I got the flu. It was very annoying. I had to miss practicum (meaning I’d have to make up the hours somehow later). I stated binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. 
I ended things with W. It was kind of harsh but it needed to be done. I need to stop breaking up with people in the weeks prior to my birthday because we had a total Dave-Simard-2.0 situation where W told me he had purchased a birthday present for me and he still wanted to give it to me.
I also ran the St. Patrick’s Day Road Race again!!! Good times as always. 
Practicum got much better in March. I had many things to do. I got to design the curriculum for and facilitate a six-week girl’s group. I assisted with the planning and running of a series of community tax clinics which was cool. Except the guy from the agency whose project it was is a creep. He kept telling me all of these stories that were incredibly inappropriate given the fact that we knew each other only in a professional sense. He made many comments about women’s bodies and appearances that were gross. And I got left in some pretty unsafe situations all by myself. AND he made me pay out of pocket for snacks for one of the tax clinics and never reimbursed me for that. I kind of forgot about that until just now. Wow. 
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April 
April was a big month! 
I went to Portland for my birthday weekend with Matt and Connor. When I think back to this trip, it was lovely, but mostly what I remember is a lot of beer, a lot of rain, and being hungover. Portland is a really cool city. I wasn’t totally expecting to be confronted with as much homelessness and substance use as I was but, that’s my privilege talking. Some highlights from the trip include: 
• The “Flower in the Kettle” IPA I had. 
• The mascarpone, corn and lobster agnolotti I had for my birthday dinner at A Cena. Recommended to me by a trusted friend I worked with at Famoso. So rich. SO FUCKING GOOD. 
• Meeting this really drunk real estate agent at a dive bar and convincing her that Matt and Connor were both my boyfriends. I still have her business card in my wallet. I am unsure why. 
• The Weezer concert was honestly awesome. 
• Matt actually trying out the guyliner. 
• Meeting some random guy when I went to get gum at a corner store. His name was Dan. He was old. His girlfriend had kicked him out and he was just walking around. He’d been in prison for a lot of his life. We had a good chat. I got his phone number and now we have each other on Facebook. 
• In the airport on the way home, Matt and I were so overtired that absolutely everything was hilarious. The gif game (the gif of Kevin from The Office dropping the bucket of chili. “Me in Thailand”), and the beginning of when I got let in to the “KEVIN!!!!” joke. I had tears in my eyes. 
• Connor yelled at me in a pizza restauraunt LOL (sorry Connor. I know you Ctrl+F your name. But this was memorable to me.) 
In the middle of April, I FINISHED MY PRACTICUM HOURS AND EFFECTIVELY GOT MY DEGREE. I cannot describe to you how good it felt to be driving home from one of those tax clinics after my third twelve-hour day (making up practicum hours is fun) knowing I never had to go back. Knowing that soon enough, I’d get to work on all the same cool projects but actually get paid for my time.
We visited Saskatoon for Easter, which would turn out to be the last time I got to see my Baba. She was very ill, and both of us knew that it would likely be the last time, so I did get to say my goodbyes. It was very difficult and I sobbed for a lot of the ride home. It’s a weird feeling, when someone you love has been so ill for so long, and you begin to see their condition really deteriorate. When the idea of life without that person starts to become a reality. There was almost an… acceptance? It sounds so callous to say and it’s way more complex than this but also somewhat of a relief in the finality of it. I don’t know. It was a lot. 
April was also when I started interviewing for social work jobs. I had two interviews. The first one was at CCASA, essentially for what I thought was my dream job. I have never psyched myself out so hard for anything in my life. I thought about that interview and that interview alone for weeks. I studied harder than I have for any test ever. When the time came for the interview, I was so nervous. I became this meek and mild version of myself. It was honestly devastating. But of course, had I gotten that job, I would never have interviewed at the University of Calgary. My boss-to-be called me for a pre-interview while I was on shift at Famoso. It was busy, too. But I just said fuck it and ducked into the back and talked to her on the phone for twenty minutes. She invited me for an interview a week later where I had to give a five-minute presentation on managing stress as a student. Rock on. 
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May 
On May 1, I got offered THE JOB AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY! It was truly one of the happiest moments of my life. There is nothing more satisfying and exciting than actually attaining something you’ve been dreaming of for so long. It was for a one year contract on a maternity leave coverage, facilitating community trainings around suicide prevention, helping skills, all that good stuff. I was going to be on salary. I was going to have benefits. I WAS GOING TO BE ABLE TO WALK TO WORK AND HAVE A REAL CAREER THAT I WOULD BE PROUD OF AND EXCITED ABOUT.
I hung up the phone after accepting the job, texted all the requisite people about the good news, and then immediately drove to Famoso to quit. My boss at Famoso was angry with me because I did not give two weeks notice. I said I would work out the rest of my scheduled shifts. He was a jerk, he yelled at me in frustration saying, “You work here for five fucking years, we accommodate every trip, every vacation, every practicum and you don’t even have the courtesy to give me two weeks notice?!” It wasn’t a big deal though. He was just being an asshole. And hey, Steve, you’re still an asshole!
So my last day serving tables at Famoso Westhills was May 3, 2019. I’m usually not good with goodbyes but it was the easiest thing in the world to just walk out of there at the end of the night knowing I would never be back. I had ten days until I started my actual job at the University (a bit of an oversight on my part because I had ~no money~ so what the fuck was I going to do with ten days).
My grandmother passed away on May 19, 2019. Back to Saskatoon on May 28 for the funeral. It was really fucking sad and really fucking weird to see all of my cousins crying. My grandma also had a big Catholic funeral and none of us are particularly religious and as the direct relatives of the deceased we were at the front of the church and it was really obvious none of us had any idea when to kneel vs. stand and didn’t know any of the words or tunes to the songs.
On a happier note, my brother was accepted into medical school in May. Not that I ever doubted my brother would be a successful person, but this just really solidified it. Dr. MacKay.
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June 
June was rather uneventful. I was honestly so cripplingly broke at this point, and it was so long before I actually saw a full salaried paycheck. I had to borrow money from my parents just to like, function. And pay my bills. It was embarrassing. But I was working full time and learning so many cool things about the job that it made it alright.
I walked the stage on the first week of June and accepted my BSW degree. I didn’t want to go but it was actually a pretty awesome and happy occasion.
The other big thing that happened in June is that Maddy moved to Australia. It sucks that I only met Maddy in the summer of 2018. She is so awesome and we became so close so quickly. I genuinely love her so much and spending time with her is so easy and fun, it was really sad when she left knowing that it was highly possible she may never return or at least not for several YEARS.
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July 
By July, my new job was in full swing. I was facilitating trainings every other day (so much public speaking experience!), I was sitting on a committee, every day was new and challenging and exciting. 
My dad had a giant party for his 60th birthday, with some friends even coming from Saskatoon. They rented a limousine that took us to the Black Diamond hotel because apparently my parents have some kind of significance there. I did a shot with my grandfather? We played pool and Big Buck hunter? None of my friends came but all of my brother’s friends came and I honestly think that it turned the tables in terms of who my parents’ favourites are in terms of friends. 
I also had an awesome weekend at Folk Festival mostly with Kendal and Lachlan but also featuring guest appearances from Chad and Gillian. Podcast club pals. There is just nothing better than folk festival, honestly. Food trucks and music in the sun and drinking sangria from a flask and admiring everyone’s cool outfits and getting a tan and listening to concerts all day. I had a nap in the middle of the afternoon on Sunday and it was like the most glorious 45 minutes of my entire year. 
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August 
Oh, no. August. I was still cripplingly broke (it takes a long time to catch up to a point where your entire paycheck is not just going to paying back things you’ve borrowed) and I made the utterly stupid decision to go to a music festival. 
Big Valley Jamboree, baby. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the best weekend that I am never ever doing again. Some highlights: 
• Mere minutes after arriving, I watched a man vomit. 
• The “Tony Keith” joke really took off. Lucas and I were so #inone on the Friday night we kept yelling and trying to start chants (“old man graphics!” is my personal favourite in response to Toby Keith’s random, pro-military Americana concert graphics).
• I gave my phone to somebody and then wandered off in search of this stupid boy’s campsite. I got very, very lost. The BVJ campground is a large place. I had no idea where I was going and was literally just stumbling through the dark and the mud. I ended up in the middle of some middle-aged Newfoundlanders’ campsite. They welcomed me. They offered me and sandwich and several beers. We chatted for like an hour. It was the best. I walked for SO LONG and finally found my own campsite. But we’re talking literally hours of walking around blind and disoriented. There were a few moments when I genuinely thought I was going to have to wait until the sun came up. 
• A few less-than-classy moments in porta potties. 
• The HANGOVERS. Jesus lord. I couldn’t survive. 
• Airwaves guy was great and I also had a really good buffalo chicken poutine thing that I remember fondly. 
In happier and much more professional news, I facilitated my first Community Helpers training in August. I was very nervous. Like, stay up all night the night before nervous. And we had some technical difficulties with setting up. But my coworker / work BFF Jeannie was there and she was a great support to me. She ran and got me a coffee and a banana bread because I hadn’t eaten and was so so stressed. And she encouraged me through the whole thing. It went really really well. I almost choked up at the end while thanking the participants for coming and explaining how it was my first training and they were such a great group to do it with. 
The squad was all super broke so we turned to free activities. It was very wholesome. We spent many afternoons and evenings reading in Prince’s Island Park with snacks. We went to Shakespeare in the park. We went hiking. 
A lot of my friends moved away in August. Such is life when your friends are all academics or have bright futures that are not confined to the Calgary city limits. Sydney moved to Victoria to start her PhD and we had a nice day at Elbow Falls eating berries and then having dinner with my family. Adam and Kendal both moved to Ottawa to start a fancy new government job and an MSW degree, respectively. I am really really proud of all of my friends but I miss them, too. Calgary is not the same without these people. 
On the flip side – a new roommate moved in! Maddie left to move to Red Deer to be with Joel and so our new roommate was a French exchange student named Aurore. She arrived and was shocked to see that none of the advertised furniture was in her room except for one limp mattress. Karla and I hadn’t even known she was coming because my landlord sucks, but we helped her get her things together and then ordered her some Skip the Dishes. She was exhausted. And sweet. And was starting a block week MBA class the next day in her second language. I felt for her. 
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September 
In September, the inklings of me moving into a different role at the university were planted. My boss called me in to her office one afternoon and shut the door. I was terrified but she said to me, “you’re not in trouble. Actually, just the opposite.” She brought up the recent vacancies in the job I now hold (lol: spoilers) and said, “Just think about it. I just want you to know that there would be no hard feelings if you chose to apply for the role.” I was flattered but also caught off guard. I did not think I was qualified for the job. I had virtually no client experience in either of my practicums. I wasn’t even registered with the ACSW at this point. And I loved my old job and my health promotion coworkers so so much. But also… I was on a twelve month contract. And the person away on leave was definitely coming back. I was “strongly encouraged” to get registered with the college. 
It was honestly such a mess. They gently nudged me towards applying for the role, I was torn. Then they told me it probably wouldn’t work because I wasn’t yet registered with the ACSW, and even if I did register would still only be provisional. I felt an odd sense of relief at that, and had totally psyched myself out of being able to do the job at that point. At the last minute, I was told “just submit an application to keep our options open.” I did so. I got an interview. I interviewed (and it was SO fucking stressful…. Interviewing with people you already work with is 10x worse than interviewing with strangers. I tell ya.). And… I got the job!!! Not only did I get the job, I got a full-time, permanent contract (there were two positions, one full-time and one on a longer contract. I was told from the beginning I would just be applying for the longer contract but I ended up getting the FULL TIME ONE.) It was a HUGE boost to my confidence and again, one of the happiest days of the year.  
September was also just absolutely insane for work. So many orientation presentations, students reaching out wanting to get involved, starting all of the volunteer programs, planning. I was so, so, so SO FREAKING TIRED. But we did lots of fun things. Like we took Aurore and her friend Cecile to Banff, had them try Caesers and Beaver Tails and all kinds of Canadian things. 
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October 
On my last day in my old role, my coworkers decorated my desk with a homemade banner and got me desserts. We went to McDonald’s for a feast and sat in the Hub and made jokes. It felt really special and I was really touched. 
On October 7, I started my new-but-also-kind-of-the-same job. I was very nervous and there was a lot to learn right from the get go. And it was so… strange. I HAD MY OWN OFFICE. WITH MY NAME ON THE DOOR AND EVERYTHING. The imposter syndrome hit me like a tsunami. I was extremely stressed, extremely overwhelmed. But my teammates and my boss are great. They understand I’m new not just to the role but to the field. They were (and are) so kind and patient with me and answer all of my questions. 
For Thanksgiving, we went to Banff. We had beers and did a little bowling at High Rollers and then went to the Rimrock for dinner. It was very nice. A few weeks later, I hosted my own friendsgiving dinner and roasted a turkey! And spent all day decorating my parents’ house and the table to look fancy. Everything turned out really really well. I was super stoked. Note to self: throw more dinner parties. 
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November: 
What I recall from November is just… stress. The case management / social worker life came at me real hard, real fast. I had to call CFS for the first time. My client did not want me to. It was hard. I did not cope well. My coping strategy was to fuck off to Lake Louise (?) for a weekend in a hostel and drink two bottles of wine with some random sorority girls from Chicago. And tears.
The cooking phase was in full swing at this point. Eggs benedict, soft pretzels, curry, French onion soup, gnocchi, prosciutto apple blue cheese chicken, apple and chai galettes.
The third week of November was also when I decided to start training for the half marathon. I found a plan online and set out to follow it and honestly, it’s been great. I usually don’t stick to exercise routines for longer than a month because I tend to go too hard, too fast and I overdo it and I let one hungover day derail me. But this plan wasn’t focused on distance but rather time spent running. So rather than, “I have to run 5km” today it’s, “I have to run for 45 minutes today.” I thought I’d hate that but I actually really like it. It encourages me to go a little slower and just run out the clock, at whatever pace. And the speed is building gradually, and naturally.
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December: 
Aaaand December!
December has been so much marathon training. Today, I am entering my seventh week of consistent running and exercise. That is a badass accomplishment for me. I am very pleased. I even managed to do my runs in Saskatoon on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Aurore left back to Paris. She had a birthday party at the house with all of her international friends and we went for sushi and looked at Christmas lights in the rich people neighborhoods before she returned home. She ended up being so wonderful. I will miss her.
I went to Radium for a weekend with Kennedy, Matt, Amanda, and their friend Katie. The takeaways from this experience are: I am excited to get to spend more time with Kennedy and Amanda and to become better friends with them, I think I like smoking weed now, and skiing is the best.
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2020: 
To be completely honest, my life is pretty good. I sometimes wish I had somebody to share it with, and that’s something I hope to be a little better about in 2020 is putting myself out there in more of a meaningful way. 
I also am super excited to continue down this path with my career and to develop personally and professionally as a social worker. There is truly so much to learn and I’m really motivated and excited right now to do well at this which is an awesome feeling. I do need to work on not taking my work home with me so much, about separating the social work life from the personal life. Setting boundaries and all that good stuff. 
I’m hopefully going to run my first half marathon in 2020. May 31. The countdown is on. Excited to cross that item off the bucket list and experience the rush of crossing the finish line! That endorphin high is going to be insane. 
And I want to keep developing my cooking skills. Though they may be small, they are mighty. I want to try and learn how to make fresh pasta dough. LOL. Simple goals. 
Anyways... thank you 2019 for all you have brought me and taught me. I am grateful for the life I get to the live and the experiences I get to have. And I’m super stoked to see where 2020 takes me. 
<3 
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ain’t afraid to die
[Roleswap AU - Inspired by Roleswap AU event from earlier this year] Just some good ol’ fashion sadness feat. Jotaro and Kakyoin and Donut’d Masumi because one of my favorite Dir En Grey songs is on Spotify now and the translation never fails to make me feel.
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The way that I used to walk with you is gone...
But still, I always walked with you, I wonder if I'll ever be able to meet you...
Snow had begun to come in on the Japanese town once more, the flakes sticking to the dying grass below. The Christmas snow had melted away about a week or 2 ago, only leaving the bitter chill of winter. Life went on as usual, busy people doing what they must while school-attending students enjoyed such an early day off after the winter’s break. It was January now, a new year means a new beginning for most.
Two students in particular walk among the flurries and crowds, one towering over in a large black gakuran and a scarf around his neck, the back of his hat busted open to show his delinquent nature. The other, shorter but still a fair amount taller than most of the crowd, has fiery red hair on display, a green gakuran on his person and white scarf around his neck. The shorter holds a small bouquet in his hands, seemingly unaffected by the cold. They’re strangely solemn to anyone else who sees them, eyes distant as they move through the people.
“...It’s been almost a year already,” the redhead speaks up, finally breaking the silence. “It feels like so much shorter than that, doesn’t it, Jotaro?”
“...Yeah…” The taller one, Jotaro, grunts out a reply, hands in his pockets. Someone accidentally bumps into him, causing him to jump slightly. Where it wouldn’t have phased him before...ever since returning to Japan, the smallest things seem to make him look twice. 
“...If you’re not ready to do this,” the redhead speaks once again, amethyst eyes peering up to the taller student with worry, “I understand if you’d want to go back home-”
“Kakyoin.” He interrupts, one of his fists clenching in nerves in his pocket, though no one could see it in his stance or his face. “...I want to do this.” Jotaro’s voice was stern, but there’s something more to it. Kakyoin simply nods in response continuing to walk.
The snow falls gently on a hill Even though I can't reach you, I understand The flower in your room that you loved is now…
Even if the world turns as normal for the rest of their peers, their family, the rest of the world, it’s not so easy for Kakyoin or Jotaro. They’ve tried, God knows they’ve tried so hard to go on like normal, but it’s seemingly impossible. To their peers, they had just disappeared due to family issues for over a month or so...unknown to them, they had gone on quite the bizarre adventure that a normal person wouldn’t even dare to believe. If it hadn’t been for their friends, that trip headed to Egypt, Jotaro wouldn’t have gotten that morning kiss from his mother, her cheery demeanor lost to a terrible sickness.
They lost so much there, both thought, the crowds dying down as the teenagers moved closer to a large fenced-in area on a hill. It was a holiday, but not one that most would visit this place, which will hopefully make things easier.
Avdol, eaten alive by Vanilla Ice’s stand, his hands being the only thing to return to whatever family he had left. Polnareff probably took his death the worst.
Iggy, a dog who’s attitude hid how much he actually cared for their little group, using the last of his life to help beat Vanilla and both protect Polnareff and, in a way, avenge Avdol. After losing a leg to Pet Shop earlier, the poor thing never really stood a chance…
Kakyoin’s throat visibly tightens thinking about last year, the last person coming to mind as they go through the gates, a graveyard standing before them as the snow picks up. It could have easily been him, nearly gutted by DIO’s stand and thrown into the water tower. Thinking about it...perhaps it should’ve been so that such a precious and rare light, a smile accompanying it, wouldn’t have died out… No, he can’t think like that; a brief but bitter smile coming to his large mouth at the thought of her scolding him for thinking such a way.
Jotaro’s hand comes up to clasp onto his shoulder, head tilted down just enough for the brim of his hat to cover his eyes. They continue up the trail, a row of stones coming into view.
The day of last years final snow The promises that were hard to exchange When I remember them, they melt, and spill from my hands...
They stop in front of the row once they reach it, eyes glancing over the names. There’s some they aren’t familiar with, others they heard in stories fondly recollecting the past. Jotaro’s stops at a black stone, the etchings on it in a gold covering to help it stand out against the dark color, the flakes inside sparkling almost like stars against the light and the snow. He nudges Kakyoin and looks in it’s direction, the two moving to stand in front of it. A name in Japanese is dug into the stone, a cherry blossom underneath the characters. The date under it read 1972-1989, flowers left there from someone before slightly wilted under the cold.
[HAMASAKI MASUMI]
A shuddered breath leaves Kakyoin as he kneels down, the small bouquet left next to the flowers left from a previous visit, most likely her mother. They were red roses, a flower that he had remembered were her favorite kind. Jotaro was already lighting an incense in the small section underneath, shielding it from the cold breeze. They stood side-by-side, silent as they looked over the tombstone.
“...It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Masumi-chan?” Kakyoin speaks first, his lips slightly twitching upwards. “We haven't seen you since...since the ceremony...we’re sorry it took so long.” He glances over at Jotaro, head still tilted down for the hat to cover his eyes as he simply nods in agreement. 
“We both got accepted into a university, so once we graduate, we’re all set!” He spoke as if she were standing there in front of them. “Jotaro got accepted into the Marine Biology program with flying colors; he’ll get to see all kinds of places to look at different sea life. As for me, I may just get my basics out of the way before deciding. I’m stuck between computer programming and teaching personally…”
“. . . I say he’d be good either way,” Jotaro speaks after many moments of silence, still standing still with his hands in his pockets. The quiet meets with them again, only the sound of the breeze and it’s wind blowing through the wind, carrying the smoke of the incense off to wherever it’ll be carried. They both seem to be lost in thought, eyes garnering that distant look again…
All alone by the window, just staring at the snow While remembering you, seeing you in the glass I give you a final kiss
The blood rushed out faster than he thought as Kakyoin struggled to pull Masumi’s body up to the rooftop and away from the fight with DIO. He took off his gakuran top, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was too much. He looked around, trying to catch sight of Jotaro while Mr. Joestar faced off against the vampire. Polnareff tried but...he was knocked to the side. If any good came of this, the blow she took only confirmed Kakyoin’s suspicions of DIO’s power. 
He could stop time, control it as if it were his own, even if just for small amounts of time. At this point, Mr. Joestar had fallen and Jotaro stepped up, his aura more intimidating than before.
“K...Kakyoin-kun, are you ok…?” The struggled voice in his arms caught his attention, head snapping back down at the girl bleeding out.
“I-I’m fine, thanks to you,” he muttered. “Don’t talk, ok? I’m sure we can get you some help after DIO’s defeated, you just need to hold on and-!”
“I...I don’t think I’ll get to go back home…” she choked out, more blood coming from the corners of her mouth. “Kakyoin-kun...I believe in you and the others...you can beat him…” Masumi coughed, more of the crimson substance coming up.
“Y-You will! We’ll go home together and you’ll get better, and...and…” The truth began to dawn on him. At this rate, there was no way that, even with any help from the Speedwagon Foundation, there was no fixing this.
“...Please take care of yourselves...and keep an eye on my family, ok…?” Without realizing, tears were streaming down the redhead’s face. A shaky hand came up to wipe away the tears, brushing against the scars over his eyes. Despite dying, she still mustered a smile for him.
“ Come on, smile, don't cry anymore From here on, I'll always be watching you… ”
All he could do was nod. He leaned down, a chaste kiss to the girl’s brow in comfort before looking down to her again.
“I...I always loved you and Jotaro-kun...I just wish...I had been able to tell you properly...please...go save...everyone…”
Once Jotaro had beaten DIO, Kakyoin having joined not long after placing her down, he saw the damage that was done, Kakyoin telling him her final words. Although he didn’t voice it, Star Platinum’s angry voiced ‘ORA’ and the large hole left in that rooftop was enough…the frustrations of losing someone else…
The snow falls gently on a hill Even though I can't reach you, I understand The flower in your room that you loved is now...
A light that quietly begins to color the inside of the town white You saw the season's final colors... The sound of the tears that fell is cruel isn't it You saw the season's final colors...
Jotaro was brought back to reality by a sniffle, one of Kakyoin’s hands gently touching the stone in front of them and a tear leaving his face. The snow seemed to pick up it’s pace, more flakes coming down than ever.
“...We thought...going on with life would be the best way....we could never forgive ourselves for what happened, and going back to ordinary life would simply push it away, trying to get through the last year of school and live like nothing happened...but it was impossible…”
Without realizing, a tear had left the delinquent's eye as well. They both came back with baggage that couldn’t be healed, at least not for a long time. Jotaro reached out as well, fingers brushing against the inscription of her name.
“...Sorry...for not coming sooner, Masumi-chan…”
They both felt at fault for what happened. If Kakyoin hadn’t foolishly set up his 50-meter Emerald Splash so boldly in front of DIO...if Jotaro had been quicker to get there…both boys blamed themselves for all the deaths, but especially so for hers.
A breeze brushed by their faces, the phantom touches of fingertips across their cheeks. When they looked up, there was nothing...the incense had stopped burning. A faint whisper heard on the wind, perhaps an illusion of the wind blowing through the trees.
“Don’t cry…”
The four seasons, and your colors, will soon vanish The snow melts, and flowers bloom on the street corner The "colors" that you saw, softly begin to melt
The day of the years final colors...
After that day, they tried to visit more often. Whether it was by themselves, with the Hamasaki family, with their own families, or even with Polnareff when he came into town, they always made time to visit at least once a month.
The two students stood on the corner they all used to meet at. The weather this morning said that the weather should start to warm up after the chill March brought. Looking down, Jotaro noticed a small flower sprouting from the bottom of the sign there, innocent little buds of spring coming to meet the coming warmth. One of the few snowflakes falling lands in his palm, melting as quickly as it came. 
A single flower on the street corner When I look up into the sky, the final snow melts from my hand
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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years
Text
YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS
_ One great advantage of not needing money is that you are looking for Larry and Sergey. I thought studying philosophy would be a shambles. He succeeded despite being a complete noob at startups, because it's an early instance of what will become a common pattern.1 That's a big advantage.2 The latter is much more damping. The idea sounds horrible, doesn't it? In the average car restoration you probably do make it.3 The whole thing was only a couple thousand left. You could call it Work Day.
You'll pay more for Internet services than you do.4 How do you find the right sort of person you are, you should probably pack investor meetings too closely, you'll have to earn your keep.5 9 years it was my job to predict whether a startup would usually become profitable only after raising and spending quite a lot of things e. There is not an ordinary economic relationship than companies being sued for violating the DMCA, part of the job; but it is not clear whether you can actually get work done. Wealth is defined democratically.6 As jobs become more specialized—more articulated—as they develop, and startups should simply ignore other companies' patents. Design by committee is a synonym for very. But I suspect it's the startup world. I'm still not sure whether he thought AI required math, or whether contractors count too.7 This is usually done to make the region a center of scholarship and industry which have been closely tied for longer than most people think. And indeed, that might be at different companies. The early adopters you need to use a more succinct language, and adults use them all the time, and both the headers and from the circumstances of your upbringing respectively.
And more to the point where they're issued, we may in some cases it's possible to be part of a powerful new idea: allowing those who made a lot of people fast.8 If all companies were essentially similar, but some of the other programmers what language to use, and some ability to ferret out the unexpected. Till now, nearly all humans find human faces engaging. But if you talk too loosely about very abstract ideas—they continued to spam me or a network I was part of, Hostex itself would be recognized as a spam term. Bill Yerazunis. Which means if the qualities that made it hard to come up with startup ideas on demand. And since no one is doing them yet. Though most founders start out excited about the Internet is the primary medium. They're just a couple guys started on the side of making the software run on the client. Impossible? Measurement alone is not enough. In another year you'll be making $80k a month instead of $160k.9
But I don't see why it ought to be writing about them. Mapmakers deliberately put slight mistakes in their maps so they can show you only things that are missing. Overlooked problems are by definition problems that most people who are bad at deciding what to do once you've thought of it. I'd like to reply with another question: why were the exit polls cooked the books after seeing the actual returns. And once you start raising money, for example, does not seem to be many universities elsewhere that compare with the best people that Google and Apple are doing so much better than me.10 It's intended for college students and you decide to move to your silicon valley like to get money. All I took with me was one large backpack of stuff. At Viaweb our whole site was organized like a funnel, directing people to the test drive.11 The ones who keep going are driven by exit strategies. You start being an adult when you decide to focus on working with other students. But there's a magic in small things that goes beyond such rational explanations. So the fact that so many people refer deals to him is that his company was not the conclusion Aristotle's successors derived from works like the Metaphysics, but that there can even be such a test?
At MIT in the mid 90s a fellow grad student of my friends are starting to feel like a little bit in the commitment department, and that was called playing. Systematic is the last word after all.12 Companies like Cisco are proud that everyone there has a cubicle, even the smartest students leave school thinking they have to say yes.13 The unsexy filter is to ask, could one open-source browser. Are Clueless A lot of startups don't want to sell, they take you up, no competitor can keep you down.14 Some switched from driving Ford sedans to driving small imported cars, and they're clearly it. In Lisp, functions are first class objects.15 Whereas now the phrase already read seems almost ill-formed. US News list is meaningful is precisely because they attract so much attention. The main reason there are so many iPhone apps is that so many still make you register to read stories.
Kids know, without precedent: Apple is popular at the low end. The professors will establish scholarly journals and publish one another's papers. A fair number of smart people too, but again, diluted; there are lots of potential winners, from which a few actual winners emerge with hyperlinear certainty. I go to bed leaving code with a bug in code you just wrote. How much is that extra attention worth?16 He was one of few they had that we didn't even know they were recording. And if things go well, this shouldn't matter. We just took it for granted. The random college kid you talk to, but instead of pursuing this thought they tended to be at least some super-angels don't like. If you work on changes you. After we were bought by Yahoo, the customer support people and hackers.
Notes
For example, if your school, and partly because you can eliminate, do it is.
It would be to say that Watt reinvented the steam engine.
If you believe in free markets, they made more margin loans. 166. Analects VII: 36, Fung trans.
In a startup: one kind that evolves into Facebook is a very misleading number, because the remedy was to become one of the biggest company of all, economic inequality. That's the lower bound.
After reading a draft, Sam Altman points out that there is some weakness in your country controlled by the fact that the probabilities of features i. When one reads about the nature of server-based applications greatly to be delivering results.
5 mentions prices ranging from designers to programmers to electrical engineers. For most of them consistently make money, the term copyright colony was first used by Myles Peterson. Financing a startup is a matter of outliers, and are paid a flat rate regardless of the court.
Parker, William R. There may even be tempted, but it doesn't seem to someone in 1880 that schoolchildren in 1980 would be on the Internet worm of 1988 infected 6000 computers.
8 says that 15-20% of the edge? Not startup ideas, because unions will exert political pressure to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a face-saving compromise. They'll be more like determination is proportionate to wd m-k w-d n, where there is one of a powerful syndicate, you create wealth in a signal.
It didn't work out a chapter at a 3 year old, a player who persists in trying such things can be compared, per capita income in England in 1750 was higher than India's in 1960. But that is not to. Delivered as if having good intentions were enough to answer the question is only half a religious one; there is one you take out your anti-dilution provisions, even though it's a harder problem than Hall realizes. But that oversimplifies his role.
And perhaps even worse in the Ancient World, Economic History Review, 2:9 1956,185-199, reprinted in Finley, M. This is almost always bullshit.
It was common in, but nothing else: no friends, TV, go ahead.
The meaning of a place to exchange views. The reason you don't, but in fact the less educated parents seem closer to a new version of Word 13.
I know for sure which these will be better for explaining software than English. Most unusual ambitions fail, no one is going to work in research too. P supermarket chain because it was because he was exaggerating. I've twice come close to 18% of GDP were about the other hand, he wrote a program to generate series A rounds from top VC funds whether it was overvalued till you run through all the combinations of Web plus a three hour meeting with a face-saving compromise.
You can safely write off all the East Coast. The need has to give each customer the impression that the only way to tell how serious potential investors and they were saying scaramara instead of bookmarking. Information is too general. If a company with rapid, genuine growth is valuable, and all those 20 people at once, and all the money.
Garry Tan pointed out that successful startups have elements of both consist mostly of unedifying schleps, and stir.
But the money.
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andrewmoocow · 5 years
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Fooly Falls 2 Ride on Shooting Star chapter 5: Ex-Partners in Crime (originally posted on May 30, 2019)
AN: And now the end is near. And so we face, the final curtain. My fans, I'll say it clear. I'll finish this tale, of course I am certain. I've wrote this sequel, I improved the source with my own flair. But after all of this, the climax is getting there. WKUHH ERBV, ZLWK GLVFRUG XQZDQWHG WZR ROG IULHQGV, ZLWK SDVWV IRUHYHU KDXQWHG RQH PDQ, DQ DQVZHU PDGH KLP GDXQWHG GHVWLQB OHIW WR EH DQVZHUHG, DQG WKHB'UH JRQQD EH HAKDXVWHG
--
In the style of an old black and white film, an assembly of giant irons stood perfectly single file before the setting sun. Gwen quietly watched before turning away and picked a bottle up off the ground. She then discovered a dejected worker sitting in front of a campfire with his hardhat the only splash of color. Gwen examined the sight before her when she also discovered the outline of a skeleton beneath her feet, where she placed the bottle in the center of its chest. Just then the girl dropped to her side in pain, discovering a small disk stuck in her foot that she gave to the skeleton to serve as an eye. As a nearby engine roared, steam from a structure decorated with irons covered the monochrome land like a sandstorm, sweeping her up along the way. When Gwen opened her eyes, she laid in a colorful body of water with her beanie in hand. Then the world suddenly turned greyscale as she excitedly ran along the shoreline while the Medical Mechanica factory continued to stand upright.
-- Ian whistled a familiar tune while tuning up a large computer monitor nestled within Ford's study. "Ride on shooting star. Yabba dabba doo, somethi-ing." he quietly sang while making a few final touches and dismounted from his maintenance creeper. "Okay, main screen turn on?" "Yeah, main screen turn on." Dipper answered turning to a certain someone tied up and fast asleep in a chair. "Rise and shine old friend." he announced placing a freshly cooked chicken leg under Haruko's nose, and the delicious scent wafting into it finally woke her up. "W-what happened?" she asked slowly beginning to wake up. "Last thing I remember was working on something before there was this napkin that covered me and-hey!" "There's no escaping this Raharu. You will give us the answers on your past that we've been searching for!" Ford declared dramatically stepping out of the shadows. "And perhaps some clues on what you're planning this time. Kanda?" "Will do." Tsukata replied hooking the Vespa Woman up to the machine with a helmet resembling a strainer and the monitor finally activated. "This was originally built to defend minds from the dream demon known as Bill Cipher, but now it's been rebuilt to simply read them and view the memories within." "This could be it everyone, our biggest breakthrough!" Dipper cackled joyously as it began booting up. "You okay there Dipper? You've slowly grown more unhinged." Ian asked nervously placing a hand on the older man's shoulder before he was slapped away. "I'm not going unhinged, I'm just excited to finally see through her lies once and for all!" Dipper continued lighting up a fifth cigarette. "So much so that I've literally cut my smokes in half!" "Yeah, he's officially snapped." Kanda commented taking a puff of his own cigarette and sitting down next to Haruko. "Oy, a bunch of losers the lot of you." Haruhara japed with a grin. "You've all become conspiracy theorists who'd resort to kidnapping an expecting mother just to prove a point. And since when did you take up smoking?" "Since I failed to quit." the agent muttered. "And I've been doing it to help me calm down." Dipper added taking a break from his mini-celebration. "Augh, my back." Haruko groaned struggling to reach for her back. "Must be the ropes getting a bit too tight, or you're just getting old." Kanda commented. "Naw, can't really age." the woman responded. "I've been 19 for what feels like ages now." "How many years exactly?" Ford asked writing in a new journal. "Hell if I know, probably ever since I met you-know-who." Haruko answered. "The summer I turned seventeen, was when I took up smoking for the first time." Kanda explained. "Sort of the same with me, only I took up smoking to deal with becoming a father." Dipper replied just as Project Mentem started acting up. "Oh my God, it's finally time!" "Can't believe it took one conversation for it to get started." Ian remarked pounding at the machine. "Well, let's get cracking." After a few moments of static, a full image revealed itself as a slightly younger looking Haruko dressed in drab work-clothes with a familiar iron in the background. "Wait a minute, is that-" Dipper exclaimed while his eyes widened. "Yep. Haruha Raharu, ex-factory worker." Raharu groaned in resignation over her past. "And it was back when Medical Mechanica had control over my planet too." As the younger Vespa Woman continued trudging about her day, Ford lost interest. "Let's just skip to the interesting stuff." the scientist declared fast-fowarding through the memory until it stopped at Haruha rocking out on some equipment as a makeshift drumkit. "Now that's the little devil we know!" "Hey, keep it down in there Haruha!" a strict, snarly voice cried out to her barging into the room. He was a tall, robust figure with a thick mustache, very long nose and a comically large cigar in his mouth. "Ah, good ol' Heinzenberg. A real J. Jonah he was, really miss when he would scream like crazy at everyone." Haruko reminisced on her former boss. "Either stop those abominable sounds or I'll do it for you!" Heinzenberg screamed pulling out a laser blaster and firing, but his rebellious employee swiftly escaped. "Try and catch me brushface!" "Wow, seems like everyone hated your guts." Dipper remarked as the fight between Haruha & Heinzenberg tore the workplace apart, to the ire of everybody else. When the dust settled, the area was in shambles and Heinzenberg was completely furious. "HAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUU-HAAAAAARAAAAA! YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU'REEEEEEE FIIIIIIIIIREEEEEEDDDDD!" "Was he really that loud?" Ford asked as the Haruha on the screen was dragged away by security robots. "Yep, to the point where one had to add extra letters to whatever he was screaming." Haruko cackled before her smirk turned into a frown as Kanda fast-fowarded to the biker's home life, where she was being harshly scolded by a man presumed to be her father. "Do you realize what you've done Haruha?!" "Abusive parent, correct?" Ian interviewed their captive. "Oh you better believe it. The old man was a completely irredeemable piece of shit who loved drinking more than his own family." Raharu declared morosely, turning away from that ugly part of her past. "And as for my mom, pretty sure she got killed by him in a drunken rage. But who knows, I barely knew her." "Your slacking off and playing that infernal music nearly got us all in trouble!" Mr. Raharu drunkenly shouted after smacking his daughter across the face. "Either behave like every other girl on this godforsaken planet or never show your face around me again!" Just then, the cruddy former apartment home of Haruha started rumbling and a loud voice bellowed "SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT! I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU GOT!" The ceiling began falling to pieces little by little, all capped off with a steel girder losing its support and falling right over Haruko's father. "WHAT THE FU-" was all he could scream before the girder reduced him to a puddle of red. "The Cromulons!" Ford exclaimed fast-fowarding to Haruko on stage before the giant planet-sized heads gazing down on her. "PLANET WASPRUS, SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!" the Cromulon boomed. "So what, do they go around screaming at planets?" Kanda asked. "And what do they want to be shown?" "The Cromulons are a race of giant floating heads who force the inhabitants of planets to perform in their own musical contest show." Haruko answered. "My planet frowned upon any form of creativity, but I just loved sticking it to the man." "Aw shitballs you guys, we gotta run!" the belches of a middle aged man sounded as he and his two companions, a stonefaced bird person and a catlike creature, ran for the hills to a hijacked cargo ship. "Hey, the old gang!" Haruko chirped excitedly. "Wait, the what?" Ian asked staring at the screen. "Those my boy, were the Flesh Curtains." Ford stated putting a hand on the eldest Ramirez's shoulder. "A band consisting of Rick Sanchez, an old frenemy of mine; and his two weird comrades Birdperson and Squanchy." "And it's not just them. Look." Birdperson announced pointing upward to a giant red phoenix that warped itself over Wasprus. "IT SEEMS WE HAVE A SPECIAL GUEST DISQUALIFIER!" the Cromulon boomed. "LEGENDARY PIRATE KING ATOMSK, SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT!" While Rick and his posse urged the younger Haruko to not give in, she was utterly mesmerized by Atomsk's might as she slowly stepped towards him. "Don't do it babe, that's Atomsk! His power will seriously screw with your head!" Rick warned, but Haruha didn't listen and reached out to the giant bird while her hair turned into its trademark pink. A large chain wrapped around the Pirate King's neck attached to the girl's wrist and she pulled it with all her might, eventually breaking it in two. Just as Atomsk screeched, Raharu was dragged away by Birdperson and raced to the cargo ship, escaping the doomed Wasprus in the nick of time when it completely exploded. "Welp, there goes that gig." Rick groaned in defeat taking a chug out of a flask. "How's our extra cargo doing?" "Still out squanch from Atomsk." the cat-person stated checking for a pulse just as their passenger came to. "Oh geez, what happened?" Haruha moaned rubbing her head when she took notice of the old man, the bird and the cat surrounding her. "Where am I, and who are all of you?!" "Well I can assure you miss, I am not a man in a suit that will teach you the alphabet." Birdperson answered. "You may call me Birdperson. These two are my bandmates Squanchy and Rick." "Okay, we played the name game. But where's my planet?!" Raharu shouted grabbing the two animal-like creatures by their collarbones. "Well funny story babe, might wanna squanch around and see what happened." Squanchy suggested trying to break free and the future Vespa Woman took his suggestion, gazing out the back window to find what was left of her home planet. "My home's all gone." Haruha muttered shedding a few tears, but those tears were soon replaced with a celebratory manic grin. "I'M FREE!" "Whoa now, aren't you the least bit torn up about everyone you ever loved there now pretty much dead?" Squanchy stated. "I don't care, cause no one felt that about me either!" the Flesh Curtains' passenger whooped. "No more shitty dad, no more boring job, and no more stifling of creativity!" "Hell yeah, now you're speaking my language!" Rick replied merrily. "Hey, didn't get your name lass. What do they call you?" he asked putting a microphone to the girl's mouth. "I'm Haruha Raharu." she introduced herself. "Hm, doesn't roll off the tongue as much." the drunken traveler commented. "You ever tried picking up a name like the ones in the comics like Peter Parker, Reed Richards, Billy Batson or Fred Flintstone?" "I don't believe that last one came from a comic." Birdperson tried to correct his bandmate until he was shushed. "I got a great one! How about Haruko Haruhara?" Sanchez announced pretending to knight the girl with what would become her famous Rickenbacker bass. "I like it, really does sound like those old comics!" the newly renamed Vespa Woman exclaimed. "So where to?" "Wherever the hell we want to!" Squanchy answered pointing onward before the fond memory paused itself. "Ah, the old gang. We were kinda like the Fab Four back then. Rick was Paul, Birdperson was Lennon, Squanchy was Ringo and yours truly was George." Haruko thought back to happier times with a smile. "The four of us were unstoppable! Traveling the multiverse, playing gigs, sticking it to the man, making crossovers and just having fun regardless!" Haruko managed to sneak her foot out of one of her boots to fiddle with Project Mentem and fast-forwarded through many events during her travels with Rick. In particular were running from an angry mob of robots resembling ones & zeros in a city within a computer, holding a concert for tons of excited colorful fans with gemstones on their bodies, playing with a golden snail that had a phone attached to its shell which led to an entire island being destroyed, defacing a money bin and all other sorts of mischief. "But then everything went horribly wrong when we planned what I call 'The Mechanica Mission'." she stated sadly stopping at the four nomads looking over current plans. "-ere's what we're gonna do. Haruko will infiltrate the Brotherhood and rise through their ranks so she can allow us to find Atomsk." Rick explained. "Afterwards, Squanchy will break into the Medical Mechanica factory where our contact has stated he's being held in while Birdperson & I form a distraction." "So even being a first-class space patrol officer was part of your scheme as well?!" Ford exclaimed. "To be honest, I don't know what I expected." "Don't wanna delve too much into it but in a nutshell, everything went to shit." Haruko regaled forwarding faster to a standoff between her and Rick in front of a Medical Mechanica factory with armies of insectoid aliens & Medical Machines on either side, their bandmates hovering nearby on another hijacked ship and Atomsk appearing out of a giant wormhole. "So all this time, we were just being used so that you can have sex with Atomsk?!" Rick screamed as he felt betrayed by his partner. "Pretty sure his pecker is way too big to fit in your hive! And I'm really going to regret those puns!" "But wasn't there ever a time in your life where you sought after ultimate power?!" the Vespa Woman responded sadistically. "Bitch, I've been possessed by those types before! But did I use those to turn on those I legitimately care for!" the alcoholic nihilist shouted preparing to attack with his guitar. "It's no use Rick, get back here before the portal reaches maximum instability!" Birdperson cautioned his bandmate. "I'll be back in a bit you guys, gotta settle the score first." Sanchez snarled mounting what would become Haruko's Vespa scooter and charging at her with battle cry and bass. Raharu would do the same and then, the video faded to snow leaving the four men utterly flabbergasted. "So it all makes sense now." Kanda declared shutting it off. "Or at least, as much sense as a person like Haruko can make it." "Other dimensions? Wait til the others hear about this!" Ian added excitedly. "Maybe I could pitch this to whatever big Hollywood director hasn't had their reputation ruined." "At least we finally got our answers Dipper." Ford said to his greatnephew, but he received no answer. "Dipper?" Dipper on the other hand stared emptily at the blank screen contemplating over everything they just watched. Her home planet, that crazy man, the multiverse, Medical Mechanica, Atomsk. In the time he knew Haruko, her past was a total enigma with the exception of how she was a space cop gone rogue, but even that was all a sham. He began lightly snickering while clutching his head. "Ha." he flatly laughed. "Ha ha ha. Ffnk, ahoo. Ahoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo." Dipper's sanity began tumbling down even faster before his chuckling turned into full-blown insane cackling. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Dipper, stop laughing and answer me!" Stanford demanded his now completely insane apprentice. "IT WAS ALL A LIE! IT WAS ALL A LIE!" Dipper screamed merrily continuing his mad chortling and smashing the screen. "YOU ARE TEARING ME APART LISA!" "Uh, has anyone seen Haruko?" Ian asked pointing out the empty stool spinning in a circle. "It seems Dipper's little episode here has given her an opportunity to flee." Ford observed on the verge of coming to a shocking conclusion. "But where could she be off t-Oh no." Just as fast as he made his realization, Ford bolted out of his study and went up the elevator to follow the lying motorist. "Where's he off to?" Kanda asked Ian. "Stan is holding a little wake for Jinyu," the eldest Ramirez son answered. "And I don't want to know what Haruko will be up to."
--
A small drum accompanied a confused rabbi singing for Julia Jinyu in front of the equally unaware attendees who are staring at Stanley and wondering among themselves why they're attending a funeral for someone who was basically unknown to them. "We have no idea who the deceased is, but I can promise she will rest in peace. May He take good care of this woman, and continue to watch over us all." the rabbi chanted before clearing his throat, switching his Jewish dialect for a growling Midwestern accent. "All right Pines, pay up!" he shouted holding out his hand and expecting cash. "Haven't got all day, have a wedding in Alabama to preside over." "Who's the lucky underage victim and their offender?" Stan asked fishing a wad of thousands out of his wheelchair. "Don't want to get anyone here mad, but it's a juicy one!" the rabbi replied with a smug grin. After snatching his bills from the old man's hand, he wordlessly allowed the audience to give their condolences before leaving. First came Senator Gideon Gleeful. Although he and Stanley made amends, there was still a friendly contempt between the two. "So how's that conspiracy against President Kitaki going?" the con-artist asked his old enemy. "Moving along quite nicely Pines. Already got the Fundshausers on my side." Gideon replied turning to Grenda & Marius with a wink and a grin. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm probably going to being voting for you." Stan admitted. "The less we need of that old hag trying to ban the possibility of intergalactic travel, the better!" Next came Masurao. "Hey I know you! You're that guy from Little Asia!" the great-uncle exclaimed. "I am sorry for your loss sir, but I'm on borrowed time." Masurao apologized before scurrying outside. "What's his deal?" "So the damn thing stood up? And it's also getting foggy." Masurao stated spying on the upright iron from below with Eyepatch. "It'll go away when the sun reaches its peak." Eyepatch responded. "Did we really need to make a pitstop at the Shack on our way there?" "Even if it doesn't have a fraction of the power it once had." his partner remarked gazing upon Canti's head while Aiko spied on the two men without their knowledge. "Don't worry, just forget about it." Eyepatch assured him before they departed in a pickup truck carrying the Medical Machine's remains while the funeral continued on as normal. Eventually the two made it to an orbit elevator area in Portland where a doglike man waited for them. "Hey champ, you training hard for tomorrow?!" Eyepatch greeted the worker with a fistbump. "Oh you know, just trying to save my money." the other man replied. "Feel free to just head on in, warehouse should be up ahead." "Good on the money sport. It's important to make plans for the future y'know." Eyepatch complimented, which warranted a grumble from Masurao. When the worker tried to pick up Canti's head, it suddenly turned on for a split second. "Hey, watch how you're handling that thing Mutt!" Masurao ordered. "It's like, vintage!" "Yeah, this is pretty heavy. My bad." Mutt quickly apologized. "That thing's a piece of junk anyways champ. Hakuna matata as they always say!" Eyepatch casually stated which earned him an earful from his younger companion. "Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how much that-" "I totes got it sir." Mutt assured them. "You know, I had a hard time throwing away my first cellphone! Sentimental value is sometimes worth the most." "You don't understand at all!" Masurao continued shouting before the other two men laughed. -- Back at Jinyu's funeral in Gravity Falls, Arnold grimly faced the wall while Juan & Jorge tried to apologize. "Please, you gotta forgive us Arnie!" the twins cried bowing to the floor in shame. "We'll do anything to make it up to you! Would you like to come with us to that new amusement park opening up?" "I'd rather go with someone who won't deliberately leave me to die just because of their manliness obsession." Arnold glowered not ever taking his eyes off the wall. "But if we bring girls with us, we'll get a hefty discount! Like 99% I heard! Aiko asked me to come with her!" Juan tried appealing to their sullen friend, but he still received no answer even as Gwen entered the room. "Fine, be a jerkass for pretty much barely any rhyme or reason for all we care!" Suddenly, Haruko abruptly barged into the living room riding on her scooter and wearing Jinyu's shades, interrupting the funeral and enraging Stan. She slammed her hands on the coffin to speak to the audience. "So listen up everybody, cause I have an important announcement to make! Kay?" Haruko declared. "I am, um, gonna get married!" she announced switching into a wedding dress to everyone's bewildered cheering. "And everyone is invited! Yes I mean everyone!" "I congratulate you on your marriage madame, but this is a place of mourning. Please save your speech til after the wake." one of Gideon's bodyguards with long hair stated. "Do we have visual on crazy pregnant biker that just interrupted a funeral?" "Noted. Prepare for detainment." his black jerry-curled partner replied swapping the burger he was eating for a cattle prod. "Oh wait wait wait, you can't inflict violence on an expecting mother & housewife like that!" Haruko exclaimed turning into a homemaker with a creepy baby doll on her back. "Now let me tell you all the tale of how my husband and I, fell. In. Love." "So my hubby and I met at an amusement park in Portland, and I was there during sunset." the so-called mother narrated through children's crayon drawings. "Clumsy ol' me was about to get hit by a roller coaster when HE swept in to save me like I was a damsel in distress! It was MY HUBBY!" The final drawing depicted Haruko kissing a humanoid red bird which struck a chord in Gwen, as if she had seen him before. "So remember everyone, amusement parks are a paradise!" the Vespa Woman preached. "Forget this sobstory, let's go have so-" "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUUUU-KOOOOOOOOOOO!" Stan screamed as loud as his nearly eight decade old lungs could cut his former friend off. "Oh hey, didn't see you there Stanley! Thought this was your funeral." Haruko remarked finally realizing who the funeral was for. "Oh, for Jinyu? You guys barely even chatted!" "Don't play coy with me Haruko! You know I'm being serious since I'm not calling you Raharu!" Stan screamed while Soos & Mabel tried to hold him back. "This will be the chapter where I'll get payback for what you've done to my family all those years ago!" "Okay I just started caring, what?" a plaid-shirted man with some grey in his brown hair & goatee asked. "The rest of you get on outta here! This is between me and her!" Stan commanded and the funeral attendees ran outside just as the coffin was opened by Sammy Determined, a tanned, geeky young man with large glasses and a beauty mark on his chin. "I've been stuck in this coffin pretending to be a dead body for like half an hour. Can I go home now?" "You're excused Sam." Stan politely accepted and Sammy raced out the door within half the blink of an eye. "Anyway, I challenge you to a little standoff sweetheart! You and me, Gravity Falls pool, be there or be half of a square!" The grunkle was just about to leave when he made a mechanical arm appear to grab Arnold. "And you're coming with me Arnold, since you're just as much of a victim here." "Help me." Arnold whimpered as he was taken outside just as Ford and Tsukata burst into the living room. "Oh lord, I'm too late!" he shouted racing around the area for any sign of his brother. "I knew this would happen, I just knew." he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose when Gwen spoke up. "What would happen Greatkle Ford?" "I just knew Raharu would purposefully cut off this funeral to get Stanley's goat." Stanford answered. "Though I'm pretty sure she's lying about being pregnant." "Hey, have you seen Dipper anywhere? Haven't seen him since you kidnapped Haruko." Mabel asked for her brother while the Vespa Woman flipped him off behind her. "We just did some digging through her mind and what we found just...broke him." Kanda answered mournfully. "Who do you think is still available right now?" "Mom and Tyrone are. They're having a mother-son day in watching bad movies." Gwen answered. "Well what are you waiting for dudette? Call 'em!" Soos urged the girl. "Hey Gwennie, wouldn't you rather go to the amusement park instead? You're the one that I wanted to go." Haruko tried to make her change her mind. "I'm not going miss." Gwen quietly said picking up her phone. "GWEN-NIE!" -- "Ha ha ha ha, now I look like an even bigger idiot!" Tyrone & Wendy monotonously cackled in unison in response to the horrible costume worn by the leading man of "Invasion of The Bear-Eating Man Family" while Tyrone knitted a new sweater for Stan. "Wow, Joel Nelson clearly had no idea what made good costuming!" he laughed. "Still slightly better than the outfit he made Michelle Hodgson wear." Wendy replied. "Or lack thereof." Just then, the phone rang. "I got it!" Tyrone shouted racing to the phone, but his mother was also focused on answering which resulted in a play-fight that her son quickly won. "Pines cabin, Tyrone speaking!" Tyrone said. "Ty, thank goodness I can reach you." Gwen sighed in relief. "Listen, has Dad come home recently?" "He's holed himself up in our room a couple minutes ago after getting a can of Willy-Nilly's Coffee beans and a knife." Wendy answered. "I'm getting really worried for him. Tyrone honey, can you go up to check on your father?" "Will do Mommy!" Tyrone accepted with a salute and merrily made his way upstairs, but his cheerfulness quickly turned into dread the further he got. When he opened the door to his parents' room, there Dipper was emptily gazing at an old Petra the Pterodactyl video while munching on raw coffee beans and squeezing a Petra plush and his son's beloved stuffed pig Waddles II in his arms. "I'm asking you for a survey Nilly, do you like Willy-Nilly's Coffee?" Dipper asked through Petra to Waddles II. "No, no I don't." Waddles II replied before Petra suddenly held a knife in its tiny three-fingered hand. "Well survey says everyone does. Because anyone who doesn't gets shanked." Petra revealed about to stab the pig before Tyrone performed a diving save on his pig. "NOOOO!" "T-T-Tyrone? What are you doing?!" Dipper shouted even more neurotically than usual. "No, I wanna know what are you doing! You tried to stab Waddles daddy!" Tyrone cried hugging his father worriedly. "I'm so sorry sport, I've just been going through some things lately." the older male responded hugging him back. "Just some...revelations making me go cuckoo for cocoa." "Like what?" his son asked. "Well for example, Raharu actually came from another dimension where she met this scientist who behaved an awful lot like Stan." Mason explained. "They went on adventures across the multiverse together, playing music and causing borderline madness. Eventually they formed a plan to steal the Pirate King Atomsk from Medical Mechanica but that went south and then everything after that was just white noise." "Wow, that sounds even cooler than what you did with her Dad!" Tyrone exclaimed in awe. "Cool, kinda. Healthy, no way in Hell." Dipper concluded putting a hand on his youngest's shoulder. "We gotta find and stop her at once. Where's your sister and cousin?" "Arnold got taken by Greatkle Stan to participate in his little feud with Haruko and I'm not sure what's up with Gwen, but I really hope everything will turn out okay!" Arnold declared with optimism, blissfully unaware of the oncoming chaos while a faint knock on the door was heard. -- "I won't let you involve my family in your schemes anymore!" Stan shouted to Haruko from the other side of the empty swimming pool. "And I don't want to be involved here!" Arnold cried begging to be let go. "Please Stan, Pacifica will kick your ass hard when she hears about this!" "Oh? You think I'm the bad guy for getting your family all tangled up in my schemes, pyon?" Haruko playfully mocked standing on the other side with her red jacket over a blue one-piece. "For a wannabe white knight, you sure are quite the hypocrite." "Arnie, bass." Stanley commanded his great-great nephew as he pushed a button on the armrest of his wheelchair that transformed it into a miniature exoskeleton to help him walk properly. "Wait, since when could you do that?!" Arnold exclaimed in shock while unveiling a certain Jazzmaster for his great-great uncle to use. "There are tons of things about my wheels that you never knew about, and some you'll never know about." Stan stated taking the guitar and slinging it over his shoulder with both hands. "Well what're you waiting for? Come at me!" "Okay. Let's do this." Haruko chummily declared just as her former friend angrily charged, but she quickly blocked the bass with just her feet. "I know you're super old, but you really got no talent nya." she groaned in disappointment. The wasp continued blocking all of Stan's attempts to land a hit and when it seemed like he was finally about to score one, instead came being kicked into the pool shed. "You learned how to fight with your back, right? Cause it seems like time has made you forget!" Stan was just about ready to surrender until he spotted Arnold nervously sitting on a deck chair and got an idea. "Tag me out kid! Tag me out!" he called for the boy while reaching out his hand. "Wait, you're serious? You want me to fight her?" Arnold said curiously. "Well, this could be a chance for me to be manly without a certain duo threatening my life." The pair high-fived and Arnold picked up the Jazzmaster to use. "I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss!" he quietly chanted to himself while charging forward and preparing a mighty swing, but Haruko then swiftly dodged it. "Whatever you wanna do blondie, you gotta do it with strength!" she announced sticking a perfect landing. Arnold however remained resolute and began muttering "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!" "This is where Stan wanted to fight Raharu!" Ford explained to Gwen & Tyrone while the three arrived at the pool but instead of seeing the other grunkle fight her, it was instead Arnold taking off his sweatervest and trying to swing again. "Use your hips, arms relaxed, chin tucked in." Haruha instructed her opponent after yet another nimble avoidance, but Arnold simply didn't listen and escaped from her grasp. "You're no good m'boy, no good at all!" "JUST STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!" Arnold howled rigorously trying one last time to smack her, but was knocked down with a small tap and a declaration of "Oint." "Stan, do you have any idea what in God's name you're doing to Arnold?!" Ford hissed from the other side of the chain fence to his brother. "Don't go accusing me, the kid's just as much a victim as the rest of us!" Stan replied with a holler. "Okay, maybe I am partially to blame." "Go get'er cuz, show her what we've taught you!" Tyrone cheered for his cousin before he suddenly realized that he cheered a bit too late. "Oh right, you're down for the count. Sorry!" "If strength was measured by the hits one took, then you wouldn't be considered such a loser." Haruko said to Arnold while her bracelet began tingling once again. "To be honest, I thought you'd be better given your heritage. That's why you were taught all those things, to increase your manliness I heard. But I guess all those were for nothing because you know just about as much." As Gwen watched, something in her began trembling and her hat glowed faintly. "That's where you're wrong Raharu. You don't know anything either." Arnold argued bravely to her confusion. "The truth is, I'm completely unsatisfied!" This angered Haruko before she decided to remove her jacket right on top of the boy, which finally made Gwen go berserk. The force given off by her beanie blasted the door away and rapidly sucked Arnold inside her head. "Wait, what's going on!?" "He was right. Pacifica's gonna put all of us in the morgue." Stan regarded fearfully realizing his huge mistake when the absorption concluded leaving everyone shocked. All that was left was a bizarre black cutout with Arnold's Northwest ring on the finger. "Uh, my bad! Things will probably get worse than usual this time around." Haruko sheepishly apologized before mounting on her Vespa and preparing to take off. "I'll be waiting. She zoomed off leaving the four Pines and what was left of Arnold at the pool. "Hey, get back here you bitchy bassist! We still haven't settled our score yet!" Stan cursed angrily shaking his fists at the clouds. Gwen in comparison was utterly heartbroken by what she did to her cousin. "Oh I am so sorry about what happened to Arnold little lady." Ford said trying to comfort her. "You know, this reminds me of my Backupsmore days. Our school just won a cross-country event and we decided to celebrate by tearing everything apart. You should've seen the pool! They flipped the bitch!" "Where were you during that time?" Tyrone asked. "My roommate and I didn't want to take any part in the riot for safety reasons, so we went out for Italian." his genius great-grunkle answered. "I only wanted to lighten the mood after what happened just now, but I'm not sure how it'll work." -- Across town, business was booming at the amusement park with dozens of excited visitors of all ages stampeding through the entrance, most of them being couples. The Ramirez children were among these couples most notably Leia & Ezra, leaving Ian to watch over Juan, Jorge and Abby. "Does anyone have an idea on where Imelda is?" Ian asked his younger siblings while taking a bite out of some confectionery treats from the food stands. "She said that she got a part-time job here but hasn't come back." "While I'm just as concerned for Mel, all I want to know is WHERE IS AIKO?!" Juan cried out furiously typing on his phone. Elsewhere in the park, Tonkichi quietly observed two men fighting for the love of a girl and accidentally getting caught in each other before a red force took over their heads. "Excuse me sir, how much longer will this test ride go on?" Imelda asked Tonkichi. "Oh not too much longer." the theme park owner assured the seven-year-old. "All you gotta do is just stay right there my girl." As for Masurao, he was currently examining the park's webpage with Eyepatch. "Wait, hold on. Not that one." his senior citizen superior stated. "What? I thought it was Mr. Dodo." Masurao replied. "Don't you forget that we're dealing with super top secret stuff here, so that means we must activate the hidden communication mode." Eyepatch advised the younger male. "Go to the shopping section and push the little kiwi strap." "Which one?" Masurao exclaimed trying to find that strap. "The fluffy one right down there." On Eyepatch's commands, Masurao clicked on the image of a kiwi that led the two to a dining menu page. "Are you sure? The link went to a menu." he muttered in confusion. "Now just push She's So Chicky Wings." When he clicked on the menu item, it then guided to an article on one of the rides. "The Icarus Fall is the world's third-fastest falling ride?" "Wait wait wait, go back up!" Eyepatch shouted. "That's gotta be it, the falling one!" he added excitedly. "Uh, they're all falling." Masurao responded not knowing what his boss just said. "The one with the little emu!" "But which one?" "The one with the fluffy wings!" "You have to be more specific!" "THERE!" With a smack of his cane, Eyepatch made Masurao tap the emu which made Tonkichi appear on a video screen in his dodo costume. "Hello there, it's Mr. Dodo!" he merrily greeted them. "It's me." Masurao stoically greeted. "Don't be so sorry. Sometimes a kid will come calling me." the receiver grimly replied when another child greeted him. "Hi Mr. Dodo!" "Hey kid!" Tonkichi waved his wing at the passing child before returning to his teammates. "And any updates from Kanda?" "Nothing yet, though he has promised." Masurao answered. "But we did see the recently installed viking ship. We'll also have to deal with Immigration matters, but I don't want to rush you too much." "And what of the flower pot? Is it complete yet?" Tonkichi continued asking. "Uh sure. It can be activated at any time." Masurao muttered nervously. "The plant is online, alright!" Eyepatch declared, but their partner was too busy trying to greet a pair of girls who didn't want to be near him. "Can you please focus on your real job and see the data I sent you?" the younger redhead groaned incredulously. "This is a real job too!" Tonkichi argued. "Don't you know that this park helps fun-" "Do you think we can make do without that pot?" Eyepatch asked his colleague as the latter closed the video on Tonkichi and Aiko overheard their conversation. "I doubt it." Masurao groaned in defeat. "If you can't activate the flower pot, any backup plans we come up with will be useless!" "Shut up, I know that!" Aiko's father exclaimed while his daughter went upstairs to look for money she made off her dating service in a jack-o-lantern situated in her closet. "Aiko." Masurao called for his daughter while she frantically closed the closet door. "What is it?" the girl asked and her dad just looked down for a moment. -- "So which one of us do you think Pacifica will kill first?" Stan asked while Tyrone helped put his wheelchair back together, Gwen examined the balloon that was once her cousin and Ford collected some leftover pool water that he put into a beaker. "Personally, I'm betting on you poindexter since you started all this by bringing Gwen here." "I started this?!" Ford shouted angrily. "You're the one who's fostered this animosity with Raharu for literally twenty years ever since she first left us!" Still fuming, the scientist examined the beaker he had just used along with four others containing radioactive waste, soy sauce, machine oil and a strand of pink hair. "And what are you up to?" Stan asked gazing at the beakers. "Just been experimenting on some substances to make a superhuman formula. Just got some pool water from here, soy sauce from Little Asia, radioactive sludge from Scuttlebutt Island, machine oil and some of Raharu's hair." "How is that going to do anything of substance you nerd?" Stanley hissed. "Well, other than probably give you a killer stomachache." "It's still highly experimental brother, so maybe there is a chance of a killer stomachache." Stanford agreed before the two great-grunkles gazed at Gwen holding the balloon in her arms. "S-so thirsty." a familiar voice croaked through Arnold's ring. "W-water." "Great Caesar's ghost, he's alive!" Tyrone exclaimed while his big sister took the balloon to the pool showers. "Hey, put on a smile sis! Arnold's still out there!" he tried to cheer her up when the showers seemingly activated on command. "I don't want to remember what happened this morning." Gwen monologued reminiscing to earlier that day in manga form. -- "Oh good morning Gwennie!" Wendy greeted her daughter coming down the stairs. "Check it out, Jinyu left us so many clean & unbroken plates." Gwen however wasn't interested. "Something the matter my little pecan pie?" her mother asked. "I'm just back to my normal self, that's all." "No, you seem eerily different." Wendy said concernedly just as her daughter stepped outside and she realized something. "I've...changed?" Gwen stuttered going back inside to find her mom packing some small boxes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Just...have fun at the Shack little dude. And tell Stan I send my condolences." Wendy said trying to dodge the question. "And also tell Arnold his aunt says hey!" "Seriously mom, why are you packing? Are we going to move?!" Gwen shouted suddenly getting angry. "I thought Dad wanted to stay here to catalogue all the weird crap going on here and hang with Aunt Mabel!" Wendy frowned to herself over her daughter's feelings before turning back to her. "I think it's time we try something different. Y'know, I always wanted to live in Portland." That was when Gwen's beanie beeping began to coincide with her bursting into tears. -- Returning to the present, the shower stopped and the balloon began to inflate in Gwen's arms. "Hey, is this about losing Jinyu, Greatkle Stan getting mad at Haruko, or losing Arnold?" Tyrone tried to console the older girl. "I'm here for you if you wanna shoulder to cry on." The balloon reached its maximum size and drifted to the ceiling above the kids. Taking a poolstick, Gwen grabbed it and took it outside where it was properly able to ascend. And then, as her beanie began blinking once again, she made a miniature crater beneath her feet which horrified her present family. "Find, the others, now." Ford muttered. -- "Hi, I'm Mr. Dodo!" Tonkichi greeted the happy couples in his mascot costume, but none were paying attention. "Looks like everyone's having a great time, am I right? Hey! Boys and girls!" he exclaimed while a group of employees armed with firearms assembled behind him. "You're all just little brats who still don't have all your hair down there! Sorry, but you're all pretty much useless!" The employees then aimed their weapons at the unknowing parkgoers on command. "FIRE!" Tonkichi ordered. "Sorry, wrong voice." he realized clearing his throat and switching to a deeper voice. "FIRE!" The weapons launched a series of red beams that tagged everyone and making the same red force appear in their heads. "THIS IS WHY I DON'T TRUST THEME PARKS!" Ezra screamed in pain as he and Leia became victims as well. "If I don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know Leia that I really do love you, and I'm basically a tsundere!" "Ha, called it!" Leia chuckled before she went back to screaming and gazed terrified at her brother. "Ian, get the kids away and we'll all catch up later! You four are the only single ones here!" she shouted to Ian. "Right! Juan, Jorge, Abby, come with me!" "But where do we find them? Where do we find Mommy and Daddy?!" Abby cried as Jorge took her arm. "Not sure, but they're probably just as lost as all the other couples here are!" Juan exclaimed racing off. The energy collected from the visitors soon filled up all the big rides at the park and caused them to lift themselves out of their supports. "They started already?!" Masurao shouted watching the chaos from afar. "I have to warn the Pines." Tsukata declared gazing through his binoculars. The attractions gathered around the big castle at the center, including the viking ship that Imelda was trapped on, and formed into a giant robot. "Captain, I don't think we'll make it!" one of the employees shouted. "We've got to do it! No matter the cost, we'll show them all!" Tonkichi declared bravely as the castle bot faced the upright Medical Mechanica iron. "They may smooth out our brains, but they'll never smooth out our freedom! START THE ATTAAAAACK!" The castle robot launched everything it got at the giant iron, but nothing worked and the factory in turn blasted a giant laser that instantly burnt the opposing machine to cinders. -- Far above Earth, Arnold's inflated husk drifted out of the atmosphere and towards an Immigration Control Center satellite storing lost items. A mechanical hand snatched the balloon and tossed it down the chute to be scanned & later dumped into the old Gravity Falls junkyard which attracted the attention of a familiar-looking robot dog. "Well I'll be. Aren't you just the cutest little thing?" Older Man McGucket greeted the little mutt. "Hey I know you! You're that spindly johnny who followed the kids around!" The genius hillbilly scooped up some of the trash from the box it was dumped in, including Arnold's remains, and put it in a dog bowl for the canine machine to eat. "Eat up now little feller!" -- Back at the amusement park, Haruko was spectating the whole battle when she felt her stomach return to its normal size. "So they're still doin' it, huh?" she mumbled getting back to her entertainment when she saw a few familiar faces. "For the record, we already knew something was up long before you warned us!" Ford shouted to Kanda when he spotted Haruko. "Raharu! Can't believe I'm saying this, but we got a problem!" Along with the Stans, Tyrone, Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Ian, Leia, Juan & Jorge, Abby, Ezra, Soos, Melody, a very angry Pacifica preparing to use a broken bottle as a shiv and Kanda was a now cybernetic Gwen glaring furiously at the Vespa Woman. "Lookin' good Gwennie!" Haruko complimented with a wolf whistle and a nosebleed. "You're really killing it!" Gwen didn't reply with her words, but instead with a gold battering ram launching from her robot arm. "Just so we can all reach a compromise, all of you are to blame for this!" Pacifica shouted tranquilly. "Whoa, hold on all y'all!" Haruko exclaimed avoiding the younger girl by jumping on the roller coaster tracks. "Stop it, I didn't do nothing wrong!" "BULL-FUDGING-SHIT RAHARU!" Stan cursed as Gwen followed his former partner preparing to use the other Mustang to help his great-great niece. "All I did was give you all a little nudge, reignited some old passions, helped you with your dreams, s'all!" "Give him back! Give Arnold back!" Gwen screamed continuously attempting to hit her. "Wah-ho! Guess the Pines still have quite a lot of fight in them!" Haruko exclaimed before she found Dipper, Mabel and Pacifica right behind her. "Give me back my son or else." Pacifica hissed arming herself with Jinyu's Jazzmaster. Before anyone of them could fight, Haruhara surfed away further up the coaster rails. "In the end, you're no different from the rest of us!" Gwen snarled leaping away from her family to give pursuit. "It's all because you're in love with that weird bird, right? You're just another girl stupidly in love!" "See, like I kept telling you Raharu! You can't force someone to love you!" Dipper agreed with his daughter. "Oh quit parroting Mason or I'll shove crackers down your throat to shut you up!" Haruko shouted to the Pines father before she noticed her bracelet starting to react to something amiss. "Huh?" "Uh, dudes!" Soos exclaimed gazing up at the reddening sky. "Is the multiverse going all kaput or am I thinking of some other cataclysmic event?" he asked cuing the others to look up as well. "No. Way." Ford & Kanda boomed in shock. Soon everybody important to the story gazed up at the sky and Haruko realized just who it was. "It's Atomsk." -- AT LAST, IT IS DONE! I started kinda late on this chapter, but it was all worth it to finally beat my deadline. What will become of the Pines family and friends? Will Haruko finally control Atomsk? Why does McGucket recognize that oddly familiar dog? Join us next time for the final chapter of Fooly Falls 2: Ride on Shooting Star and be sure to read my other works for more!
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nightfuryobsessed · 6 years
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The Truth
@raven-clues @torieltears @shut-your-loomp 
Summary Here
Ever since Henrik returned from his nine month ‘vacation’, he had been a bit more skittish. The others knew why, but no one expected Henrik to avoid the newest ego.
JJ was confused about this, he hadn’t done anything, in fact, he didn’t even know about the doctor until he showed up again. The dapper ego was really excited when he saw the doctor, having liked the doctor shows the others had once showed him, and the idea of new medical treatments.
Once day, JJ walked up to Henrik and gently tapped his shoulder, making the German ego jump as he turned to him. Jameson smiled up at the other before signing for a moment then realized that the other might not know sign language. He blushed a bit before his slides appeared in front of him, showing the doctor what he wanted to say.
‘Hello Doctor. I was wondering what your real name is, I haven’t been around that long and no one’s told me. My name’s Jameson Jackson, but I go by JJ.’
Schneep backed away before grabbing his drink and leaving the room. The white and blue ego stood there confused and slightly ashamed. He had said something wrong...hadn’t he? 
JJ sighed before walking away, a bit more upset due to the bad interaction.
“Hey Jamie, are you okay? You look kinda down,” Chase said softly as he stood in front of the other ego. The dapper ego was about to answer him before realizing his mistake again. Practically no one knew British Sign Language, why was he so different than the others?
‘I tried talking to the doctor, Henrik I believe...but he didn’t talk to me, he just walked away.’
Chase frowned before gently hugging the other ego and rubbed his back, his heart breaking when he heard JJ silently sobbing and crying. The fatherly ego knew why Henrik didn’t trust JJ, but to willingly ignore him?
“I'm sorry Jamie, he’s just on edge. It’ll all work out, I swear.”
A few days later, JJ tried talking to the doctor again, only to get a much faster rejection.
‘Maybe it’s because I’m mute,’ he thought to himself, only making himself more depressed.
‘Why am I like this? Why am I silent, why am I such a wa̛st̛e͟ o̵f̶ s͝ṕa҉ce?’
JJ growled to himself before sighing and sitting at the table, putting his chin on his hand as he thought everything over. He would have loved to talk to the good doctor, to just be friends and get to know him more...but given who he was, that would have been impossible from the start. No one wanted to always read slides or try to understand BSL.
After nearly a month of silence between Henrik and JJ, the dapper man couldn’t take it anymore and talked about everything with the others, hoping that someone would have some good advice for what he should do.
‘I don’t know what to do, I tried talking to him like I talk to you guys, just, normally, keep the formality to a minimum...should I not? Should I talk to him like a real doctor? Or like a friend? I don’t understand, did I do something wrong.’
JJ was pacing around the living room, making it slightly hard to read his slides, but the others knew what he was saying and were slightly afraid. They didn’t want to tell him, but at this point they had no other option.
“JJ, Hen’s not scare of you, per-say, he’s scared of...w-well...God this isn’t easy. Look, this’ll be easier to just...show you what happened,” Jackie said shaking his head softly as he got up, the others following close behind. Chase, Marvin, and Jackie knew exactly what was going to play, but JJ followed blindly, not knowing what he was about to see.
“Before we show you, just...keep an open mind, okay?”
JJ tilted his head before nodding and crossing his heart, raising his other hand to swear that he wouldn’t do anything or try to hurt them because of what they show him.
The others looked at each other before signing and turning on Sean’s computer. They went to YouTube and showed JJ some of Anti’s main appearances, making the young dapper man shift in his place, obviously uncomfortable with Anti.
‘Well, he’s obviously not good, but why is Henrik afraid of me? I’m not this Anti fellow.’
“Just...hold on, there’s a few left,” Chase said sadly, not turning his attention from the computer. JJ tilted his head before turning back, curious about this Anti.
JJ’s eyes suddenly went bright and he boasted a huge smile, proud of what he had done. On the screen was his power hour, something he was glad to have done, but never actually had the privilege to watch.
JJ watched happily, proud of the edits and how at home everything felt for him...then it took a turn he didn’t know about. He saw himself get pricked by the knife, and Anti bleed into his work. Everything he had done, was now gone.
JJ shifted his weight uncomfortably, his hands clenching by his side as his mouth went dry. He had come here, destroyed his work...and worst of all, ruined a potential friendship he didn’t even know he would or would not have.
‘So that’s why Henrik’s so afraid of me.’
“JJ, Henrik isn’t afraid of you,” Jackie said gently wrapping his arm around the other.
“He’s just being cautious, he doesn’t want you getting hurt.”
JJ knew it was a blatant lie, the evidence was right there. Henrik was terrified of him because he thought he was working for Anti. If the dapper man didn’t know himself, he would have thought the same thing.
‘Thank you for showing me this,’ his card read before he left the room. The others didn’t follow, it wasn’t their place to.
JJ paced in the kitchen, nervously biting his nails as he thought about what he was going to do. This was risky, but he had to talk to Henrik, just to clear everything up and talk to him.
Jameson stopped moving when he heard the front door open then close. He let out a silent sigh before turning forward and put on a brave face. He had to do this.
‘Good evening doctor. I was wondering if I could talk to you.’ JJ paused for a moment before lowering his head. ‘Please?’
Henrik sighed before nodding and sitting down, once he had his coffee, that is. After a moment of drinking coffee, he paused then sighed. He apologized about his behavior, saying that he regret what he did and didn’t really understand why he was acting like that.
‘Henrik...forgive this question, but...what happened to you? Why were you gone for nine months,’ JJ’s sign asked. He regret the question as soon as he thought of it. The doctor’s reaction didn’t help much.
After a moment of silence, the good doctor sighed and told him, he didn’t  leave a single detail out. He remembered everything so vividly, as if it happened yesterday. He explained everything in such detail that Jameson felt as though he were there, in that tiny room, watching what Henrik saw, listening to what he heard, done what he was forced to do.
When Henrik was done, JJ sat there with tears in his eyes. This poor man...
‘Thank you for your time. I’m...terribly sorry for what happened to you,’ Jameson’s card said before walking away.
Several days passed and Jameson had forced himself to stay in his room. He had grown to fear everything, causing him to jump at any little noise, at his own shadow, or even at small movements. He was growing thinner, too afraid to leave his room and get dinner. If the others brought him food, he was afraid that someone had put poison in it, so he refused to eat anything.
JJ would stay up for as long as possible, fearing when sleep would eventually come. The screaming, the blood, the knives. Every time he slept, the nightmares came. The knives nearing his throat, the laughter that surrounded him as he bled. The metallic smell in the air and the gurgling of his breath.
Even as Jameson thought of those nightmares, his breathing became uneven, his body began to shake, and he gave off silent sobs and screams.
To this day, Jameson refuses to leave his room. And the others?
.
..
...
... .- ...- . / -- . / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... .. ... / .... . .-.. .-..
...
..
.
They regret what they had done.
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hey, could you maybe repost your list of virgin-sherlock fics? and which ones would you recommend especially. thank you.:)
Hi Nonny! I’m actually currently going through my recs because I knew that this would come up one day! Here’s what I have on it so far; I’ll star my personal faves that you MUST read!
Gigantic by BubbleGumLizard (E, 2,135 w. || PWP, Size Kink) – John seems to avoid Sherlock seeing him naked. Sherlock wants to fix that. This is porn. Part 19 of Mystrade NaNoWriMo 2015 
What He’s Like by magikspell (E, 2,919 w. || Love Confessions, Fluff, First Time, Inexperienced Sherlock) – Realistic first time. They love each other so much. [FAVE!]
Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional Sherlock, Comforting John, Gross Fluff) – “Sunlight dappled John’s skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber.“ Part 8 of All the ways we love
Well Begun Is Half Done by Avice (E, 3,897 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Anal/Oral, Seduction, John in Charge, Pining Sherlock, John’s Penis, Bottomlock) – Sherlock is putting together an elaborate plan of seducing John. John grows tired of waiting and takes matters into his own hands.
One Day Like This by nondeducible (E, 4,872 w. || First Time, Bed-Sharing, Romance, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock) – When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.
A Study in Intimacy by doodle (T, 5,183 w.|| First Time, Romance, Virginity, First Kiss) – People don’t touch Sherlock Holmes, not like they touch other people. Then he meets John Watson.
Strings by EstherShapiro (E, 5,267 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Massage, Friends to Lovers, Fingering, Anal, PWP) – Sherlock wakes his doctor up. Was this weird? John was sitting on his bed, late at night, rubbing his hands over another man’s body? That was supposed to be weird, right? Then again, this wasn’t just some man, it was Sherlock. They were so used to each other that John didn’t even think to question it. It wasn’t weird.
Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to recieve pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.
The Effect of Memory by testosterone_tea (E, 6,430 || Praise Kink, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Smut, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Confused Sherlock) – John has temporary amnesia coming off of anaesthesia after an operation and not only does he not recognize Sherlock, he starts flirting with him! After John recovers, he doesn’t remember the incident at all. But Sherlock does. Confusion ensues.
Inside by magikspell (E, 6,757 w. || Loss of Virginity, Anal / Rimming, Fluff, Humour, Awkwardness, Shy Sherlock, Bottomlock) – "Being inside someone. Feeling someone inside you.”
The space between by Salambo06 (E, 6,830 w. || PWP, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Miscommunications, Bottom Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Sexual Fantasy) – “It’s for a case,” Sherlock says as soon as John looks down at his computer. John remains silent for a long moment, eyes moving from the screen to Sherlock, before saying, “You don’t have to explain.” His voice is low, too low, and Sherlock looks at the computer, putting the video on pause. “Lestrade asked me-, no, forced me to find out who’s threatening a famous porn star, and the suspect is among his co-stars, so I only need to watch out for any signs from his partners, anything that might show they’re the one sending those threats and I can move to something else.” “Right.”
Drive by lifeonmars (M, 9,537 w. || Virginity, Awkward First Times, Minor Injuries) – John and Sherlock are stranded by the roadside, and John is injured. They need to spend the night in the back of a humvee. Sherlock is confused. John is understanding. [FAVE!]
Paparazzi by SilentAuror (E, 10,543 w. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Post S3) – John moves back into 221B Baker Street after his marriage falls apart and the paparazzi won’t leave him and Sherlock alone about the status of their supposed relationship. Sherlock, of course, never denies it, until one day he does…
The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”
Praise Me by testosterone_tea (E, 11,813 w. || Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Dev. Rel., Virgin Sherlock, First Kiss / TimeBJ’s, Anal, Praise Kink) – In which Sherlock has an interesting physical reaction to compliments and John discovers it.
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit by  SilentAuror (M, 15,002 w. || Christmas, Domesticity, Post S3, Happy Ending) – John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas "properly” this year to see if they can’t track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about. [FAVE!!!]
In A Changing Age by allonsys_girl (E, 15,590 w. || Victorian AU, Virgin / Demi Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mild H/C) – Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there. [FAVE!]
For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John. [FAVE!]
At the Heart of it All by SilentAuror (E, 19,812 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Post S3, POV John, Domestics, First Time, Kissing, Romance) – John has been back at Baker Street for four months now and thinks it’s about time they had the Talk to see whether or not they could be more than friends. Sherlock has a lot of uncertainty about this concept for multiple reasons. Unabashed romance.
Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?) [FAVE, MUST READ!]
State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen. [FAVE!]
Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John’s POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe
The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w. || Alternating POV, MollyxJohn [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon…or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly’s up to…but he knows he doesn’t like it.
A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him. [FAVE FAVE FAVE! MUST READ!!]
Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family’s private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it’s time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.
The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary’s betrayal and Sherlock’s deceptions.
The Quiet Man by ivyblossom (E, 157,369 w. || Post-TRF, John First POV, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Present Tense, Imaginary Sherlock) – “Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?”
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takadasaiko · 6 years
Text
Breathe Again Beneath the Flames: Chapter Twelve
FFN II AO3
Summary: Solomon finds some trouble while Tom and Ressler go looking for Liz.
Chapter Twelve
Donald Ressler stood frozen in place, glock aimed at the man that had broken into his home. Tom Keen's grin was looking a little more strained with each passing moment that Ressler wasn't lowering his weapon and finally he cleared his throat. "Listen, man, I'm really trying to limit the number of holes people are putting in me lately, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" the ginger agent managed to croak out, shock drying his throat. He finally lowered his weapon, but only so he wouldn't shoot his partner's husband. He felt the simmering anger double into rage at the thought of Liz and her broken, grief-filled expression before she had left. That hadn't been faked. That couldn't have been faked, no matter how good she was. That had been a woman mourning the loss of the man she loved, but there that same man stood in Ressler's apartment, ordering pizza and drinking his beer like they were buddies. He was quickly bypassing rage and he needed answers right then or he was going to really kill the arrogant bastard. "You better give a damn good explanation as to why Liz thinks you're dead, pal."
He watched the dark haired man's amusement fade entirely, replaced by something that might have been guilt. "You might want to grab the stuff from the hall," he said, motioning beyond him to where the takeout and travel bag were halfway visible. "It's not a short story."
Ressler nodded, finally holstering his weapon and moving to grab his things and close the door. He watched Tom circled back around to the couch and he took a heavy seat on it, popping the cap off the beer and reaching for a slice of pizza. It looked like it was from Ressler's usual place and he wondered if he should check his bill. He took a seat across from Tom. "Okay. Let's hear it."
The other man took a long drink from the beer he had thieved from Ressler's fridge and when he set it down he started in. Ressler thought he had heard just about everything in his line of work, but as he listened to Tom talk about a body double that was good enough to fool Harold Cooper, an experimental drug - developed by the same Halcyon scientist that had cracked quantum computing - that had brought him back and kept him alive after they had all watched him flatline after the brutal stabbing, and the months and months in recovery that - if Ressler trusted his own instincts, which he did - didn't look like they were quite done yet. He saw the dark circles under Tom's eyes, the exhausted expression, and the way his hands shook ever so slightly as he reached for the drink again. He looked great for a dead man, but there was no doubt the last year and handful of months had left a lasting mark.
"I didn't know Liz was awake until a couple of months ago," he said, meeting Ressler's gaze. "Nez came to DC to make sure she knew I'm alive, but-"
"She was already gone," Ressler murmured. "Yeah, she just ghosted. No real warning, no goodbyes. We found found out through Reddington and got the impression the only reason she told him was to make sure he didn't follow. We all assumed she had Agnes with her…"
Tom shook his head. "Scottie got custody. In hindsight, probably to keep me distracted."
Ressler winced a little. "You two have some really screwed up parents."
"You're telling me."
"But," Ressler said slowly, drawing his attention, "can't knock the results. I mean… we all went to your funeral. We gave you a wake once Liz was awake…."
Tom smirked. "You say nice things about me, Ressler?"
The other man glared in response, refusing to be swayed from the serious conversation, even if it might have been easier to poke fun rather talk about what had happened to Liz. "She took it hard, so I guess we were really surprised when she left." He paused for a moment. "If you're here to find out where she went, I don't know."
"I do. She's in Alaska. Middle of nowhere."
Ressler reached for a slice of pizza. "Then what are you here for?"
Tom's gaze shifted away from Ressler's and he ran his hand along the top of his dark hair, causing it to stand on end and looking a little uncomfortable. "Help," he said at last, his dark blue eyes flickering to meet a lighter shade. "I need your help."
"Okay, but why me?" Ressler pressed. "You've got Halcyon-"
"Scottie and Howard lied to me about Liz being awake, by omission if nothing else."
"What about your team? Nez and Dumont?"
"I need eyes and ears there to make sure Agnes is safe."
That made sense. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with Tom leaving his and Liz's kid with a criminal like Nez Rowan, but that wasn't his call to make. It wasn't like she hadn't been with Reddington while Liz was unconscious. "What about Reddington then? I mean, you know he's gotta be itching to find Liz."
"No," Tom all but growled, immediately halting that line of questioning. "That's not an option."
"Okay, then even someone else out of the Task Force. Cooper or Samar or-"
"Listen, man, if you don't want to help just say so."
Ressler pushed a long breath out of his nose. "I just need a reason, Tom. You can't just showed up in my home after being dead for nearly a year and a half and expect me not to need answers."
Tom flashed him a grin. "Don't trust me?"
"No, not particularly."
The grin didn't fade. "Smart man." He tilted his head thoughtfully and the disingenuous expression eased a little. "I know who attacked Liz and me. Whose men put her in a coma and who just about murdered me."
Ressler leaned forward, elbows against his bent knees and Tom had his full attention. "You know who Damascus is?"
The covert operative blinked. "Damascus?"
"That's what Liz called him. It's the… the knife that he used on you. It was a Damascus knife."
He watched Tom's expression darken and he thought he saw a subtle grimace at that. "Right."
"Who is he?"
That pulled the other man's attention back around and his gaze was intense. "A cop."
Ressler straightened at that. "A cop tried to kill you? Why?"
"Because he was after something that Reddington had. That's all I know."
The ginger nodded, leaning back in the chair again, but not not quite relaxing. "So you want my help with a dirty cop?"
"I want your help getting to Liz so that we can all go after a dirty cop. I figured if anyone would be willing it'd be you… with your dad and all."
Ressler shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping him. "Hell, man."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
His lips thinned out, not quite quirking up. This was something Liz needed to know. Not just that Tom was alive, but a direction that they could go to find healing from everything that happened. Finally he loosed a long breath, meeting Tom's gaze. "Well, I've got a couple of days off. Let's go find Liz."
They said that patience was a virtue, and while Solomon had never claimed to be overly virtuous, it did appear that it had paid off for him this time. He'd played his part of the Nash Syndicate and their supply lines that had been tossed into the air were coming back around. He'd spoken once with the supplier out of Iraq, but it had taken nearly three months to get to Garvey. It wasn't his only in, but it had been his best bet, and the one that he was most pleased had worked out.
He stood with Li Zhao on the docks, the ever present art of waiting something he was coming to master. The sun was high overhead and everyone but her people had been cleared out, and even they were a skeleton crew. It wasn't surprising that Garvey didn't want curious eyes on him.
"He does not like to meet in person," Zhao said in her native language.
"So you've said."
She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully before motioning to the car that was making its way towards them. The driver pulled up, but made no move to get out.
Solomon glanced at her once before starting forward and he heard the locks come undone as he approached the passenger door. He reached out for the handle, but the back door opened and a man unfolded from it, waving at him to step back.
He did so, standing remarkably still as the other man's hands roamed up and down to check for weapons and pulled his gun from its holster. Solomon offered him a wink that made him take a step back before he reached back out to the door.
The man that had frisked him didn't follow, but as Solomon slipped in he did, thankfully, find Ian Garvey in the driver's seat. "It's good to finally meet you. I'm-"
"I know who Zhao says that you are," Garvey cut him off. "The man that corrected our supply lines. I also know who you've been, Mr Solomon."
Solomon let his gaze sweep over the heavyset man for a moment. His hands hadn't left the steering wheel and he could see that the vehicle was still in gear. He'd walked right into a set up.
"Let's go for a drive, shall we?"
"Why not," the newly captured man managed, keeping his voice smooth and even even as the locks shifted back into place.
She was furious, that much he knew. It would have been a difficult thing to miss with the way she was shouting at him, all of her cool demeanour put away for the red hot rage that he'd rarely seen her put on display quite so openly. Howard Hargrave stood where he was, amused, and that only seemed to fuel the flames. "You think this is funny?" his wife asked dangerously. "You knew, didn't you? You knew he was going and you let him. What? To get back at me for bringing Agnes, because you thought it was a power play? This is his life, Howard, and-"
"Breathe." Scottie looked ready to hit him and Howard had to shake off the uncomfortable realization that he had never quite gotten over her magnetic draw, even now. He held his hands up, palms outward, and waited until he was relatively sure she wouldn't try to break his nose if he stepped closer. "No, I didn't know he was going, but it shouldn't be a surprise to either of us. My guess is that Agnes tipped him off." He shot her a knowing look and watched her expression seal off. "We can play the blame game all day long, but that won't protect him. He knows Liz is awake and there wouldn't have been any stopping him anyway. All we can do now is provide him the back up that he'll need."
He watched Scottie stop her pacing, but this time her expression fell and he knew that she saw it too. They were both damn good at setting the game the way they wanted to play it, but sometimes they were dealt a bad hand. That didn't immediately mean a loss, just a set back, and they had to think quick, and as much as he hated it, it meant that they had to make sure they were moving with a united front. He didn't trust her and she didn't trust him, but they had to find a way forward for their son's sake.
Scottie sank into a chair, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Nez and Dumont would have been his only contacts able to help him and they're still at the base."
"Likely to keep an eye on his daughter."
Dark eyes flickered to look at him. "Do you think he thinks we'd hurt her?"
"I don't know what he thinks, Scottie. He probably doesn't know what he thinks. All he knows for sure is that we've been lying to him."
She set her jaw. "They want to help him in any way that they can. To get them to help us we need to enable them to do that."
There she was with that clever, quick mind that he knew so well. "I agree."
"Opening up full Halcyon resources requires us to at least take it to the Grey Matters level and that will open it up to any security leaks that we may have."
"I had Dumont do a full security overhaul right before you came back in."
"I've noticed. A second wouldn't be out of the question."
"Hmm," he agreed, nodding with the sound.
"Howard." Her voice drew his full attention. "We have to approach this together."
He saw the look he was giving him and he held it for a long moment, letting her words batter around in his mind for a moment and running through possible responses. He didn't have a chance to voice any of them, though, as he saw Scottie's gaze flicker behind him and he turned to find Nez standing there.
"I'm aware that you probably have a few things to say about the thing with Tom-"
"We were just discussing that," Scottie cut in. "We understand that-"
"I'm sorry, but this can't wait."
Howard straightened. "What's happened?"
"Solomon set off his distress signal."
Tom filled Ressler in on Garvey as the other man unpacked and re-packed his bag for the flight that had already been scheduled. They would fly from D.C. to Seattle, Seattle to Juneau, and from there, as long as they hadn't been followed, they'd make arrangements to get down to the little town in the middle of nowhere that Liz had hidden herself away in. It was a simple enough plan, and Tom was happily surprised that their resident Boy Scout didn't fight him on it once he laid everything out. He did, however, side-eye him on the falsified documents that Tom handed over to the TSA agent along with a charming smile and a compliment about her hair. She didn't look awake enough for the five AM flight to react as she scanned his ticket and sent him through.
"Not sure what you expected," Tom said as he slipped his feet back into his boots and threaded his belt through the loops on his jeans, finally clear of the security. "I mean, I'm guessing that a death certificate might raise a few red flags in an airport."
"You've got a few of those going now, don't you?" Ressler asked as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.
Tom tilted his head a little. "One under my birth name, pretty sure that someone probably added one to the name I was raised under…. they thought I was dead a few years ago after Liz shot me, but there was never any official documents for that."
"Could be because it was a fake name," Ressler said pointedly.
Dark blue eyes flickered down either direction of the terminal. "It's the one I like best."
He heard the other man snort, but if he had planned to push the subject the thought was cut short as his cell phone began to buzz. Tom watched the ginger agent fish it out of his pocket, glare at the caller ID like he might hit the reject button, but then thought better of it. "Sorry," he mumbled, and pulled the phone up to his ear. "Now's not a good time."
Ressler put a few steps between them as they walked towards their gate, but there wasn't anywhere to take a private call in the airport that they were sharing with business men and women trying to catch flights early enough to make it to meetings all over the country. Tom kept his gaze fixed ahead, but his focus was on what he could hear.
"That's not possible. I'm leaving DC this morning." There was a pause and Tom could hear the agitation in the other man's voice as he all but growled out his response to whatever had been said. "I'm not your gopher."
That was interesting. It certainly wasn't Cooper on the other end of the line. Ressler had a nauseating respect for the chain of command. Reddington, maybe? Tom hoped not. The Concierge of Crime may have been in his rebuilding phase when Garvey had attacked, but he would have spent the last year and some months strengthening that. Even being out and about risked one of Reddington's little spies spotting him. The best thing he had going for him right then was that there was no reason to look for a dead man.
"I'm well aware of the arrangement," Ressler bit out. "You've made it abundantly clear. I'll be in touch when I get back." He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Was that Reddington still giving you hell?"
There was a beat of confusion before Ressler nodded. "Yeah."
Interesting. Not Reddington, then. not that a whole lot of other scenarios made sense. "Everything okay?" he ventured carefully.
"Listen, Keen, let's keep our focus where it needs to be," he snapped.
Tom raised a hand, signalling his concession and Ressler's expression eased a little, his shoulders dropping a little. "He can just be a real bastard sometimes."
Their flight was called over the overhead and Tom readjusted his bag on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what Ressler had gotten himself into, but the man was right. They needed to focus. First they needed to find Liz and everything else was secondary. It would come though. It had to.
It had been over an hour since Garvey had said a word. The further they went out of the city, the lower his chances of surviving this were dropping, and Solomon wasn't ready to die yet. He'd set his beacon off at the first opportunity, begrudgingly thankful that Scottie and Nez had double-teamed him to push the option on him. This should have gone off without a hitch. He did well to fly under the radar at all times, and precious few people really could recognize him on sight. There was something else going on. Something he hadn't pieced together yet.
Dark eyes glanced at the driver. "Tell me, exactly what is it that you think you know about me?"
Garvey loosed a low, throaty chuckle. "Your reputation precedes you, Mr Solomon."
"It really doesn't. Not where I don't want it to."
"You were a CIA asset for some years running in Africa until they disavowed you. From there you were a free agent, shifted allegiances to the so-called Cabal, and then eventually to Scottie Hargrave when she ran her husband out of Halcyon Aegis."
The landscape sped by. "And now I'm working for Li Zhao. I fail to see the problem."
"The problem is that Scottie Hargrave has been publicly reinstated as the co-head of Halcyon and I have to wonder what an intelligence firm is doing sending in an operative into the Nash Syndicate to find me."
"I don't do this work for the kicks, I do it for the cash. Working for Scottie Hargrave isn't nearly as lucrative as it once was now that Howard holds half of the purse strings."
"I don't believe you."
The car they were in pulled around, stopping off the beaten path. There was nothing around them save the car that had driven with them. It pulled up behind them and Solomon saw a burly redhead step out, ready for a fight. The others that flanked him were visibly armed. "Get out," Garvey instructed.
"And if I don't?"
"Then I have to get the car detailed to remove what's left of you," he said, waving his gun at the younger man.
Solomon snorted, a lazy smile tilting his lips as he did what he was told. He'd been watching terrain on the drive in. They had wound their way up a hill, the drop now on the opposites side of the car. Garvey was getting out, his gun in his hand, and the red headed giant and his thugs came around. "And who might you be?"
He recognized him now that he saw him face on. He'd been in the files linked to Keen's supposed death. Bobby Navarro. He was tightly bound to the Syndicate, and while the cops had interviewed him after the attack, nothing had stuck. Shocking, considering he had a US Marshall on his side.
The man on Navarro's left rushed Solomon first, coming around and telegraphing his movements. Solomon only had to make minor adjustment to his stance to avoid the swing, ducking down and around, using his bob and momentum to swing up and he slammed the heel of his hand into the man's jaw, ripping his head to the side and sending him reeling.
The second was on him in an instant, but Solomon squatted down, half avoiding a blow and half going for the knife hidden away under his pants leg. He swung out, the blade skidding across the surprised man's throat and leaving a line of red in its wake as he kicked out, slamming him hard into the car.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, ready to take on whoever it was that was fool enough to come at him next, but the shot rang out. Solomon felt the telltale sign of a bullet burning through flesh. It didn't hurt, not at first, but then slowly the pain started to catch up with the shock. He staggered, the knife slipping from his fingers and he reached out to catch himself on the side of the sedan, his other hand going to the source of the slowly realized pain.
Garvey leveled his gun. "I think it's time we had a talk, Matias."
Notes: Well I had a less that pleasant reaction to the finale. I had such mixed emotions about seeing Tom again. If they were going to make us relive his death all over again, I feel like the least they could have done was given us a goodbye kiss between them. I really think it boils down to just never being okay with them killing him, and wow... I had to do some scrambling on this story. It was both a blessing and curse to be writing as far ahead as I've been writing because I had to really readjust for Liz's reaction to finding out Red's secret. I had just finished writing the big Keen2 reunion chapter when the finale aired and had to do some serious thinking about how I was going to adjust the story and how the Keens were approaching this. I think I've got it all evened out now, though, so that's the good news.
Even better news: Tessler. XD I've had so much fun working with these two nerds again and being able to make AU gif sets for them over on Tumblr. I hope you guys are enjoying to the ride as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Much more to come!
Next Time: Tom and Ressler make it to Alaska and search for Liz and an injured Solomon uncovers a terrifying truth about Ian Garvey's loyalties.
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