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blue-jisungs · 1 year

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cute dog and his (cute) owner

a/n. i just finished once upon a small town (bc it’s been recently added on netflix in my country) and I’M OBSESSED!! joy from red velvet? check. puppies? check. cute male lead? check. cute supporting actor? check. immaculate cottage core-like vibes? check. so yep, that’s more or less the inspo behind this piece <3

i’m not a vet nor i’m a specialist when it comes to animals so if anything is wrong lmk 😭😭

warnings. like one swear word ?? , gaeul is vomiting 🧍‍♀️

you let yet another sigh of boredom as your character in subway surfers tragically slammed onto the train. you looked up and glared at the clock. 2:47am.

being a vet was everything you could ever dream of. being a vet on a nighttime shift, however…

sure, there were some night you didn’t sleep at all. but night like this one, on a monday morning were usually peaceful.

suddenly the door slammed open and you heard two voices.

“you idiot-!”

“what? they looked heavier so i-”

“just shut up, riki. you’re the reason why we’re here at this hour…”

“guys, can you be quieter…”

“is this even open?”

“the sign literally said open 24/7. besides, the door would be closed if it wasn’t–”

“jay, you love to sleep and you were just woken up on a monday morning. we get it. can you stop acting smart now?”

seven voices, apparently. what the hell happened?

you stepped out of the office and saw seven guys, in their pyjamas. one of them was holding a white dog in his arms.

“uh… good morning…?” he says and you notice the dog’s rapid breathing.

“sunghoon, now it’s not the time to get shy…” one of them sighs and looks at you “i’m heeseung. we’re here because his dog ate a bit of chocolate and he’s overreacting–”

“he’s not. the dog might have got poisoned from what i can tell” you interrupt him and walk up to the owner, who’s looking at you with wide eyes “did it vomit?”

“who…? oh. gaeul. yeah, she did” he answers and you gently take her away from him. you can tell he’s nervous but who wouldn’t be.

“oh boy, she messed up the whole kitchen” someone says and you sent him a glare.

“this is your biggest concern right now?” you ask and turn around to go into your office. they follow you like lost ducks.

“well, no but i’ll be the one who’s going to clean it anyways…” he scoffs and then you hear a smack.

“jay, shut up. she’s right” another voice says.

“what kind of chocolate did she eat?” you ask, voice firm, as you look for the antidote. you hope it wasn’t–

“dark chocolate. i think. i’m not sure, i just saw a glimpse of it” someone else answers.

“fuck”

you turn around and realise they heard you and sunghoon’s face is turning white on your eyes. then you hear gaeul gagging.

“will she be okay?” her owner murmurs and you sigh at the sight of your floor being covered in vomit.

“hopefully– how much did she eat?” you ask and finally find the antidote. your eyes meet with sunghoon concerned one.

“it’s hard to tell. i only noticed when she was finishing it” one of them said and you noticed the owner blinking.

“okay. get sunghoon… that’s your name, right?” you ask and he nods. heeseung puts his hands on his friend’s arms “get sunghoon some water, please. and get out, i need to work”

and even after they leave and close the door, you can still hear them.

“sunghoon, sit down. i don’t want you to pass out…”

“i won’t, jungwon” he sighs and there’s a long moment of silence before he says “she’s cute…”

“oh my god, sunghoon! you were yelling at us ten minutes ago and now you already forgot about your dog because of a cute vet?!”

“yah, excuse you. i didn’t forget about gaeul, she literally got poisoned because of riki’s ignorance! and could you be quiet, sunoo? she might hear us…”

you let out a deep sigh and looked at gaeul who was peacefully munching on a snack. you took her gently on your hands and walked out of the room, heading to the hallway.

you stumbled upon an adorably sleeping sunghoon, lips slightly parted and his bangs falling freely on his forehead. you heard his friends left him here because, well, they had to go to work.

you firmly but not too rapidly shook his shoulder and he jolted his body, back straightening and eyes snapping open.

“hi” you whispered and he sent you a warm smile before looking down at his dog.

“gaeul!” he grinned and opened his arms. you handed him the dog over and as soon as she was in his arms, sunghoon started scratching her ear gently “is she alright?”

“yes. i’m not gonna lie, it was a very serious situation. but, as gross as it sounds, luckily she was vomiting almost all night so the poison is out. well, chocolate. because of that she’s highly dehydrated so please make sure she has some fresh water when you’re back home” you explained carefully, his eyes fixed on you “do you have a car?”

“no, i’ll order a taxi. thank you. how much is it–” sunghoon started searching for his wallet and his eyes widened. right. in panic he forgot to take his things with him.

“do you live far away from here?” you asked, seeing what’s wrong.

“uh, kind of. i mean it’s half an hour drive but on foot it would take much longer” he mumbled and looked at you, confused.

you grinned, nodding your head.

“i’ll drop you off. my college is on her way and i’m going home anyways” you explained and grabbed your keys from the countertop.

“really? woah, thank you so much” sunghoon sent you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen “oh, and i can pay you that way! i’ll just grab my wallet then and pay”

the ride to his place was filled with laughs. he turned out to be a pretty interesting person. you didn’t even realise when you arrived.

“remember to give her lots of water” you said, pointing at gaeul. he nodded, a troubled expression on his face.

“of course. can– can i have your number? just you know… if she gets worse… or something…” he mumbled, his ears reddening.

“sure” you grin and point at his phone. he gives you it and you type your private number along with the contact name. then you give it back to him.

“thank you. for everything. i hope you have a great day!” the boy nods, opening the door.

“thank you, sunghoon. and you too” you sent him a soft smile and pet gaeul’s head gently before he stands up.

sunghoon’s smile widens and he leaves the car. you watch him until he disappears in the entrance of the building and drive away, without realising how hard you’re smiling (or that he forgot to pay, again)

you hum one of your favourite songs underneath your breath, the cat purring and rubbing its head against your head - even though it was scratching you seconds ago. for the whole week your head was filled with thoughts about the tall, kind of awkward but absolutely adorable boy.

you were kind of nervous. yeah, he said you’re cute and he has your number but… it’s been a week and he still haven’t called. on the other hand, he seems shy so you’d understand if that took him a while. nevertheless, you still wonder if he will ever appear again in your life…

“y/n, there’s a patient!” your colleague calls from the reception and you sigh, putting the cat back to its cage.

“i’m coming–!” you announce as you open the door and literally freeze in the doorway when your eyes stumble upon him. a wide smile springs on your lips “hi”

“hi” sunghoon grins, fingers tightening on the pet carrier’s handle. you grin and walk up to him

“hi. is something wrong with gaeul?” you ask, worried. his eyes widen and then he lets out a nervous chuckle.

“well, you see–” he starts and you kneel down to look at the dog through the crates.

“she seems okay but…” you start and then he takes a deep breaths and starts spitting out words at the immaculate speed.

“she’s okay but i really wanted to see you and i forgot to pay last time, i felt so bad and also you’re so pretty and nice i was thinking if you wanna go out?” was what he said but all you heard was just a chaotic mass of incomprehensible words.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite–” you mumbled, puzzled. gaeul barked and you heard someone clearing their throat. that’s when you realised your co-worker is still here.

“should i just check up on the dog?” she asks and sunghoon freezes.

“no, she’s fine” he answers and takes a deep sigh, again “i just wanted to see you”

“me?” you ask in disbelief and stand up, looking at him shocked.

“yeah… well…” the boy mumbles, his confidence slowly disappearing. then you connect the dots with what he said earlier.

“you think i’m cute, that’s why?” you grinned and saw his cheeks flushing.

“don’t make me repeat what i said earlier” he mumbled and gaeul barked.

“i’m not. you know what? i think we should take her on a walk. and maybe then we can grab some coffee?” you ask, trying your best to fight your smile from widening. he nods eagerly, relieved that you somehow caught on.

“i’d love to– i mean… sure. and the coffee’s on me” sunghoon smiles sweetly and gaeul barks happily. really, how is he so adorable?

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @julaute

#enhypen sunghoon #enha sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #enha scenarios #enha fics #enhypen x you #enha #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha reactions #enhypen #sunghoon #enha drabbles #enha imagines #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

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gintamatranslations · 2 years

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3Z Ginpachi Sensei: Funky Monkey Teachers - Lecture 3 “Playing Doctor as adults is not the same as playing Doctor as children” - Chapter 3

This is the third chapter of lecture 3 titled "Playing Doctor as adults is not the same as playing Doctor as children"

Disclaimers:

1) No reposting on your own blogs or copying of the translation text itself.

2) If you can afford it, please buy the official releases in japanese. If you want more content, you need to support through buying the products!

3) I do not own anything related to the Gintama franchise. This is a fan translation and I do not gain financial profit from it.

4) Mistakes and mistranslations might happen a lot. I am learning japanese for barely two years now. I try to translate the japanese text into a logical english structure, but that is hard with my limited knowledge.

Chapter Masterlist here

The location changed.

After the measurements and medical examinations in the gymnasium were over, it was time for chest X-rays in a bus parked near the gymnasium.

The bus was a special bus equipped for this purpose. The students had to hug the machine which was adjusted to chest level.

They had to inhale and hold their breath for a few seconds. During that time, Ginpachi and Tsukuyo, who were behind the partition door, operated the machine and took pictures.

“Oi, is it safe to use such a machine without any training?” Tsukuyo said with a worried look as expected, but Ginpachi nodded. "It'll be fine."

"Look at this machine. The manufacturer's name is Bantomitakanamu Games."

"A toy!? Is this a toy!?" Tsukuyo’s eyes widened.

I don't know about the specifics, but I read the instruction manual (Ginpachi emphasizes the word instruction manual in the japanese original) and it seems pretty easy. It says you don't need any special knowledge to use it," Ginpachi said, waving the manual in the air. That’s the reason there were no specialist technicians in the car, in other words, is probably because the machine was so easy to operate.

So, the photographing began.

Students took turns getting in and standing in front of the machine. Ginpachi gave instructions from the other side of the partition, "Yes, take a breath. Yes, stop. Yes, that's fine."

He wasn’t sure if it was a toy or a medical device, but the machine itself seemed to be working properly. The monitor in front of Ginpachi clearly showed the inside of a chest - ribs, lungs, and so on.

The picture-taking went very smoothly. Until, however, it was 3Z's turn.

"Pleased to meet you,” Sogo Okita stood in front of the machine.

Feeling prepared for this guy first, Ginpachi gave him the instructions.

“Yes, well, take a breath…..Yes, stop. Yes, fine."

On the monitor, the inside of Okita's chest was clearly shown. Lungs, ribs, and the words ‘Hijikata die’ – No, no, no! What is this text message!

As Ginpachi was perplexed, Tsukuyo whispered to him. "Ginpachi, it seems that this machine takes pictures of everything inside of your chest.”

"No, I mean, it’s not just your lungs, it's also picking up your heart's voice inside your chest!”

After Okita, Hijikata stood in front of the machine.

So, when Ginpachi took a picture, this was displayed on the monitor:

"You're the one who should die, Sougo."

– No, you’re not supposed to display that! I mean, why does it say, "You're the one" as if you were talking to Okita just now!

Next in line was Kondo.

“It is weird, isn't it? Why is it like a conversation?”

– No, you're insane! Why is it that you can hear my heart's tsukkomi! No no no, something is wrong with this machine. It had been working fine until then, but now it suddenly went haywire. Anyway, after this, the monitor continued to display the message on the lungs and ribs.

Yamazaki was like this:

“Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tamakin Anpan Tama-san Anpan Tama-san”

You're like this here, too! How much you're captivated by Anpan and Tama-san!

Then, Tsukuyo whispered to him.

"Oh my God.........”

“What is it?”

“One of the "Tama-san" is "Tama-kin" ......" (*author's note, let's look for it too)

“No, I don't care! How did you figure that out?!”

And after Zaki, it was Sacchan.

“Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin Gin”

– Hey! This is just a brain maker, isn't it! (I don’t know what exactly to translate this to, but this is what google showed me:)

Then, Tsukuyo said again:

"Oh my God….."

“What is it this time?”

“One Character in ‘Gin’ says ‘pig’.” (*Author's note: Let's look for it, too.)

“You know exactly what you're talking about! And the author's note is annoying!"

And after Sacchan, it was Catherine. This is the stuff that showed up:

“Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money Money”

–ASCII art! How obsessed with money is this bastard! (ASCII art is art made with numbers and letters)

Next to Katherine, Tojo:

“Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka Waka” (This is what Tojo calls Kyuubei, basically meaning ‘Young master’)

–I knew it! Your love for the young master is too heavy!

So, after Tojo, there wasTakeichi:

-That's why I'm scared! That's not what this means!

Just when Ginpachi was getting tired of giving the tsukkomi, Kagura got on the bus.Kagura's hair was standing up again.

“I've already measured your height, so you don't have to make your head look like TOSHI..” Kagura looked surprised when Ginpachi said that.

"Eh, because this bus... isn't it a bus for X-exclusive photography?"

–No, X, it’s not that X!

Feeling weak, Ginpachi interfered.

–And don't give me that smug look! What's with the "I told you so" look!

"Isn't that the bus for the X-Specialty shoot?"

– You're being a pain in the ass! I can hear you!

"Isn't this the bus for the X-rated shoot?"

Third time!? What, do I have to say, "Good!" to make it end? What a pain in the ass!

Then, Tsukuyo said, crossing her hands in the shape of an X

“For the one who persists too much, it’s not an X, it’s an X.” (she says ‘batsu’ which refers to the x-mark over the wrong answer in a test)

"Good!", Ginpachi said without thinking.

#gintama #Gintama 3z #Gintama novel #gintama novel english #gintama translation #ginpachi #ginpachi sensei #gintama 3z novel #gintama book #FUNKY MONKEY TEACHERS #do I tag this with gintsu again #yes I will #gintsu

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

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A little follow-up to the 3x06 malex sneak peek.

Michael’s fingers should’ve gone numb from the cold hours ago, but he supposed that being an alien protected him from the elements, even as he stood alongside a radio tower, working on wires and satellite transmissions that would’ve been a lot easier with the help of a trained Air Force cyber-intelligence specialist for the better part of five hours.

Michael’s jaw was clenched for more than the chill, his fingers cutting and typing and scribbling across a paper for more than the desire to be done as quickly as possible. Caught up here in the silence, nothing but the sound of howling wind and dead grass swaying to keep him company, Michael couldn’t stop replaying Alex’s words in his head.

I just don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.

After everything that had happened, everything Alex had told him, threatening to destroy the world if a hair on his head was hurt, Alex didn’t want him around now. Alex didn’t want him near him. Michael was supposed to be focused on finding Kyle, on waiting for the lab reports from Liz about the blood on that shovel and who it belonged to, but he was pretty sure he was losing his mind instead.

When Alex had driven up, Michael had been unable to help but smile, even at how pale Alex had been. Because at least Alex was here. He always came when Michael called, and Michael was just starting to allow himself to be giddy about it. Then all hell had broken loose, and Alex had seemed indifferent to his best friend missing.

Even Michael, who had never wanted Alex to forgive Kyle for their high school days, had felt betrayed. Betrayed even worse when Alex had refused him. Michael had asked specially, had kept Alex from leaving, and Alex had still gone. He couldn’t help but agonize over it.

When Michael’s phone rang with Liz’s name, Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. He picked up, and held the phone to his ear, his eyes closed.

“Ortecho,” he said in lieu of a greeting, “you got a name for me?”

“Michael,” she said, and Michael’s eyes opened at the barely-contained distress in her voice. “Did Alex show up? Please tell me he’s there with you.”

Michael frowned. “No,” he swallowed, “no, he left. Why, what’s going on?”

“The shovel’s gone,” Liz said, frantic now.

Michael straightened. “What?”

“So’s the blood sample! Michael, that was the strongest lead we had! What’re we going to do now?” He heard her mutter something in Spanish, too quickly and quietly to be coherent. “Do you have any idea where Alex is?”

“Not a clue,” Michael confessed, raking an angry hand through his curls. “Was the house broken into? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine!” she said impatiently. “No one broke in, whoever did this knew what they were doing!” She huffed shakily. “We have to find Kyle, we have to. Who could’ve taken it? Who else knew?”

“No one,” Michael pressed a fist to his forehead, thinking. “No one, just Max, you, me, and . . . and . . .”

“Where’s the shovel now?”

“Liz took it.”

Michael froze. His hand with the phone fell limp to his side and an incredulous, humorless laugh escaped his lips. There’s no way, he thought numbly. No way . . .

He muttered, “Son of a bitch.”

Alex had barely stepped out of his car at a time far past midnight when Michael was there, shutting the door with his mind. Alex whipped around, startled, to find the cowboy there, glaring.

His lips were already curled around the question, about to ask what was going on, what had gotten into Michael, but Michael wasn’t about to humor his act. Not when it felt like his heart was breaking.

“Where’s the shovel, Alex?” he demanded. “What’d you do with the blood sample?”

Alex’s brows furrowed for a second before realization dawned, and his shoulders slumped. “It’s gone,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Then panic hit, “Is Liz okay?”

“You know damn well she’s not,” he growled, stepping into Alex’s space. For a horrifying second, Michael thought he might blast Alex back into the door of his house and demand answers. It had nothing to do with the shovel itself, but with the very idea that Alex – his Alex – had gone behind his back and hurt him like this. He’d never felt so betrayed, every part of him shattering.

“She’s scared out of her mind,” he said. “She wants to find Kyle, you know she does, and you took our only lead, so while I’m asking nicely –”

“While you’re asking nicely?”

“—where is the damn shovel?”

Alex searched Michael’s face, confused. Then he scoffed, the sound colored in disbelief. His next words were almost in a whisper. “You really think I took it.”

Doubt crept in, but Michael let his anger push it aside. “Don’t play stupid.”

Alex shrugged. “Couldn’t if I tried.”

“Where is it?”

Alex shook his head. He looked resigned. “I don’t know.” He turned to leave, but Michael grabbed his arm and turned him back around.

“Tell me, Alex,” he said, “before this gets worse.”

“Can it?” Alex asked, and Michael faltered when he saw Alex’s eyes were glassy. “Get worse?”

Michael squeezed Alex’s arm once, not knowing for a moment what to say, then he let go. “You’re the only other person who knew about the blood sample.”

He hummed. “Oh, and – uh – the kidnapper. Pretty big lead there, but I’m glad you came to me first.”

Michael’s face fell, and he shook his head. Without thinking, he blurted, “You’re – you’re lying.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

Alex looked like Michael had stabbed him in the heart. He looked away, swallowed, then turned back to Michael. “Even if I had taken it,” he said, “you really don’t trust me? You don’t trust it’d be for a good reason?” He huffed a miserable chuckle. Michael saw his hands curled to fists before he put them in his jacket pockets. “It’ll never be enough, will it? No matter what I do, no matter how much I love you, I’ll always be Jesse Manes’ son in your eyes.”

Michael opened his mouth. He clung to the anger, but found it was no longer there, replaced with shame and guilt. Even if Alex had taken it, even if he’d wiped it clean, even if he’d refused to help him find Kyle . . . wasn’t it all for something? Wasn’t everything Alex did for something?

He pushed the thought away. “I-It’s different.”

“Yeah, it is,” Alex said and sniffled, moving backwards. “The difference is that I actually believed in you.”

And without another word, Alex turned and went into his house, shutting the door and keeping Michael out.

Michael had no idea what he was doing here. He told himself it was to check that Maria was okay, since Isobel had told him that she’d woken up, but when he saw her sitting up against her hospital bed pillows, he found there was no hint of surprise. He’d known she was going to be okay.

He sat down with a smile regardless. “Well, don’t you look good as new.”

“Shut up,” she groaned, and tilted her head over Michael’s shoulder at the door. She reached for the IV strip in the back of her hand. “Quick, before Is gets back, get me out of here.”

Michael only scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? We won’t even make it to the elevator.”

“What,” she said dryly, “are you scared of your own sister?”

“Completely.”

“Oh, come on, Guerin!” she whined, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed. “Can’t you just –” she put her hand on his arm and flinched back.

“Ow!” she hissed, waving her hand as if she’d been burned. “Oh, jeez, what’s with the aura?”

Michael’s smirk tightened. “I’m gonna tell you what I told Isobel. Stop reading my feelings.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, “but they’re like” – she gestured wildly around Guerin – “everywhere. What’s happened with Alex?”

He faltered. “How’d you know it was about Alex?”

“Please,” she sighed. “You only ever get this loud around Alex. What’d you do?”

Michael gaped. “I didn’t do anything! I . . .” he huffed, and stood, pacing the length of the hospital room for a moment.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Today, Guerin, before the nurse comes in with more morphine and I have to fight her off again.”

“That bloody shovel Max found where Kyle was taken? It’s gone. Someone took it.” He hesitated, rubbing his hands together. “The only people that knew were us . . . and Alex.”

“Wow,” she had a hand on her chest. “Okay? And?”

When Michael didn’t answer, her eyes widened.

“You didn’t.” She leaned forward. “Guerin, you didn’t.”

“He asked where it was,” Michael defended. “And he wouldn’t help me find Kyle –”

She huffed an incredulous laugh. “Oh my God. You were so upset that he wouldn’t hang out with you that you accused him of stealing key evidence?”

“I –”

“And what if he did?” she demanded. “So he took it, so what? He must have a dangerous idea who’s behind all of this, and didn’t want anyone else to get involved! I don’t know, but it’s important! I know it is, you know it is! You know what he would do for Kyle! What he would do for any of us!”

A thought seemed to occur to her and her eyes widened. “Oh, poor Alex. Poor Alex, oh my God, this must be killing him!” She tried to step out of bed and swayed. Michael was at her side in an instant, but she was pushing him away. “How could you?!” she demanded. “After everything he’s done for you, how could you think he doesn’t care?!”

“Okay,” Michael tried, seating her back down. “I’m sorry, please, just –”

“You hurt him!” Michael fell silent. “You hurt Alex!” She shook her head. “We’ve already hurt him. You were supposed to be the one that protected him.”

Michael clenched his jaw and his eyes burned. He thought of Alex’s face, his resignation when Michael had accused him of not caring. He hadn’t been surprised at all. Even after the years of defending Michael, he hadn’t been surprised that Michael hadn’t defended him.

I just don’t want you anywhere near whatever it is I decide to do.

Now he heard the words for what they were. Now he heard the truth.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I didn’t.”

Alex opened his front door at almost four in the morning to a miserable Michael slumped against his doorway.

“This is why you didn’t want me anywhere near whatever you decided to do, isn’t it?”

Alex leaned against his door and sighed. The corner of his lips tugged up for a split second. “I’ll put some coffee on.”

They sat there in silence for a while under the warm yellow light of the lamps, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Michael studied Alex, the way his shirt ran tight over his muscles, his flat stomach, his toned chest, his strong arms and pursed lips and long fingers. Then he noticed the smaller things; the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, the scratches on his fingers and faint bruises on his jaw, the hollow of his cheeks. He was tired. Exhausted. Michael had been so happy to see Alex back, to have him close, that he hadn’t even noticed.

“I hated that you didn’t want to work with me,” he said, and Alex looked up, meeting his gaze. “I hated that I had to convince you. I guess I always knew that you would do anything I wanted, and . . . I wanted . . . I want to do this with you. Because I don’t know how to be good for everyone without you.”

Michael exhaled shakily. “I trust you, Alex. You’re the only one in the world that I trust. Whatever you decide, I know it’s for a good reason. I just hate – I hate . . . I hate not being part of it. I hate that you’re doing it alone.”

Slowly, Alex leaned back against the couch, his finger tapping the mug in his hands.

“I left the Air Force.”

Michael almost dropped his cup. “W-What?”

“Full honors,” he said, smiling for the briefest second before something weary took its place. “What I’m doing now . . . I think I know how to find Kyle.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “You knew that he was missing.”

“Hours before you called. Even got his . . . what’d you call it? Suicide bat signal?”

“And the tower? You knew about that, too?”

Alex pursed his lips and nodded. “Let’s just say I’m not working with people that like to share information.”

Michael realized he’d known that. He’d always known, if he was being honest with himself. He’d known Alex had had his own lead, that something was different about him this time. It wasn’t like when he’d come back from war. Back then, it was like Alex had lost something and didn’t know what to do. Now he’d found it and had a plan to get it back.

“That’s why you didn’t want me working around it.”

Alex smiled sadly. “Would you believe that it’s for you? That everything I have and am is for you?”

Michael swallowed thickly. He didn’t need to say the words. Alex knew he believed it. “And you? When do you get a turn?”

Alex shrugged a tired shoulder and whispered, “I don’t know how to be good for everyone without you.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to that. His eyes burned and he wanted more than anything to take Alex in his arms and kiss his forehead and help him sleep. But they had work to do.

Alex sniffled and sat up, stretching an arm over his head. “You should go,” he said, his eyes on a hallway engulfed in shadows. “Keep looking for Kyle on your end.”

As he said the words, Michael heard the silent message beneath; And I’ll find him on mine.

Michael nodded him to himself, then stood. He stared at Alex, clenching his fists, and said, “You better enjoy these last moments going solo, Private. Because after we get Valenti back, whatever it takes” – he came in close until his lips brushed the shell of Alex’s ear – “I’m not letting anything come between us again.”

Without another word, Michael walked out, and as he left, he could’ve sworn he heard Alex’s resolute, “Neither am I.”

For the record, I think the fandom is being ridiculously dramatic, that teaser was wonderful and filled with delicious tension, so please don’t rant to me about it because I absolutely LOVED it and this little fic was just for fun.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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maiyami · 3 years

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𝓚𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓸 𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝓧 𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓸

𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰: 18+

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: 𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽, 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯, 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮!

𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 18+

(I ended up going out of order of which fanfics were coming out. I got lost in writing this one. He cares Bakugou x female reader will be coming out. This ended being way longer than expected, sorry!)

You died, or at least you thought you did. It all happened so quickly, the accident. You were out on patrol one evening, that’s when it all went to shit. You were attacked, not by just one villain but three. Your quirk was strong but not strong enough at the time. You sustain major injuries, put you into the hospital for a good amount of time. Then it was off to rehabilitation, in the middle of nowhere by yourself until one day you weren’t alone anymore.

You had the ability to read minds, manipulate them, and get into deep lost memories. But since the attack, you haven’t been able to use your quirk. Your skull fracture made it so whenever you tried to read someone mind, you’d end up with blurry vision, an intense headache, and not to mention horrible nausea. You had a long road ahead of you, honestly you really didn’t think you’d make it.

The place the Commission had brought you too was way out in the country side. No one was around for miles, but funny enough this huge cabin in the woods was the only thing you’d find. It was cute you though, wasn’t anything to special but they made it seem enough like “home”. You knew you wouldn’t be seeing home anytime soon.

It was lonely, only being check on every few days to make sure you were okay. A PT specialist every two days, keeping you up and about. Then you saw a van pull up, you watched from your bedroom window. A man had come out of it, he looked so beaten down. Dark circles around his eye, hair a bit messy, and there was bandages wrapped all around his face and arms. He looked soulless to say the least, a shell of a human. He noticed you looking through the window, looking right back at you.

He was beautiful, you thought too yourself. That golden eye you could see was looking through your soul. Before you could stare any longer, you slipped away from the window. Trying to hide yourself from him, you didn’t want him to think you were looking at him because he was so badly hurt. You quickly went into the bathroom to clean yourself up. Heroes get hurt, and you didn’t want him to think that you thought less of him.

When you came out of the bathroom, there was a knock on your door. You walked to open it, finding one of the caretakers there. He explained to you that the new patient is going to be in the room next to you. That he isn’t himself much lately, and that you shouldn’t take anything he says to heart. He was there to recover just like yourself, try not to be over baring. You nodded at the caretaker, thanking him for informing you.

After he leaves, you make your way to his door. You softly knock on it, stepping back a bit. The door slowly opened, you were met with that brilliant golden stare once more. It almost took your breath away, but you kept it together. “Hi, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You said softly, a weak smile on your face. The man stared back at you, narrowed eye. A loud hiss left his lips as he looked at you. Then he slammed the door shut, right in your face. You just stared wide-eyed at it, you understood that no one wants to be in the situation that you were both in. You sighed, walking back to your room and quickly shutting the door.

In the other room, Keigo was just fuming. He hated that he couldn’t be out being a hero. He hated that he let a villain get the upper hand on him, break him down like this. He thought he was going to be alone, he wasn’t told that someone else would be here. The time in the hospital really crushed his go lucky, happy attitude. He was never a rude person to people he had never talked too before, but seeing you there made him upset. You looked fine to him, like there was no reason for you to be there with him. You wouldn’t understand his pain, wouldn’t understand where he is coming from. He had heard your door shut, he sat on the bed thinking over how he was going to get through this.

As the moments passed, he heard your door open once more. Footsteps walking by his door, and off somewhere into the cabin. It had to been about an hour before he heard your footsteps coming back down the hall. Then he heard another knock on his door, apparently you didn’t get the picture from him slamming the door in your face. Keigo was up and walking to the door. Rage filling his heart as he opened it. But when he opened it, you weren’t there. However on the floor was a tray, there was some food on it, a glass of water, and a note. He picked the tray up slowly, his arms still weak from what he had been through.

He placed the tray on his dresser, debating if he should just leave it outside your room now. Then he grabbed the note, opening it up just to see what you could have possibly said to him. He half thought that maybe you decided to chew him out on a piece of paper but as he read the note, he felt a little bit of regret come to his stomach.

“𝐻𝒾, 𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝒾𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓃. 𝐼 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓉𝑒. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉, 𝒾𝒻 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒.

-𝒴/𝒩”

“Fuck.” He said softly to himself. He doesn’t mean to be rude or shut out anyone but he just doesn’t feel like putting on the front of Hawks the number two pro hero right now. He knew he wasn’t going to not see you, he knows that your paths will cross at some point. Maybe he will try tomorrow to talk too you. He then decided he might as well eat the food you made. You did go out of your way to make him something to eat. It was beautifully made up, still pretty warm. Then he started to eat, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. It was so god damn good, the flavors were perfect. You really put the effort into cooking for him, even though he was a dick.

You were sitting on your bed, reading a book when you heard the door next to your room open. Then a little piece of paper was slipped under your door. You waited until you heard his door shut once more before getting up to grab the note. You leaned down slowly to pick it up, bringing yourself back up carefully making sure to not make yourself dizzy. You sat back down on your bed, opening the note to read it.

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝒹, 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉.

-𝐻𝒶𝓌𝓀𝓈

You smiled lightly to yourself, then you looked at the name again. “Hawks.” You said very softly, then your eyes widened. Number two pro hero Hawks? There’s no fucking way. Why would the Commission send him to a place like this, he’s a huge hero. You can understand why they’d send someone like you here, barely in the low teens. He really didn’t look like himself, but it didn’t matter to you. He was still very handsome, and you knew he was recovering a serious injury. You decided to play it cool, you didn’t want to make him feel like the only reason you wanted to get to know him was because of his status.

It was the complete opposite actually, you really couldn’t care how big of a hero he was. He is still human, and that’s how you were going to treat him. You put the note on your nightstand, turning the light off to drift off into sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day of PT and you knew that your mind needed to relax.

As the weeks past, you saw very little of Hawks. Most the time you’d see him when he was outside with the PT specialist, trying to get his wings back in order. Or you would see he when you dropped food off to him, he was opening the door now for you. Thanking you softly before returning into his room. Some notes exchanged here and there, some were just saying how great the meal was, while others were things he might want to try to eat now. It was peaceful for the most part, however some nights weren’t great. You could hear him tossing and turning in his room, the faintness of him waking up slightly horrified by a bad dream, and it was slowly breaking your heart.

Unknown to you, Hawks was hearing the same thing coming from your room. His hearing was still so keen, he could hear every toss you did, every sharp breath you took, and not to mention the soft no’s slipping past your lips in the middle of the night. He thought about asking you what had happened too you, but then again he hasn’t been the most welcoming person lately. He was going to try, he was going to put in the effort. I mean you seem to have been here longer than he has, maybe you really needed someone to be there for you.

It was later in the day, the sun was starting to set. Hawks was in the kitchen, while you were sitting in the common area reading a book. The sun was shining a beautiful orange across your face, that’s when Hawks noticed that you were wearing makeup. It was definitely trying to cover something, he could faintly see it. Then he saw how your e/c eyes were shining against the light, they were so bright and beautiful. Them seemed full of life, but something sad was hidden behind them.

As the color in the sky started to turn a bright red, you pulled yourself up from the chair. Slowly making your way outside, sitting on the front steps as the sun was setting. You were in a loose sweater, hanging slightly off your shoulder. Leggings along with some slipper, hugging your legs as you rested your chin on your knees. You were so lost in the sky that you didn’t hear the door open behind you.

Hawks noticed that you had left your chair, hearing the door close. He walked out from the kitchen, he could see you through the glass door. Looking up at the sky, not a care in the world. As he walked closer, he could see some scars on your exposed shoulder. A slight frown coming to his face, he thought there was no reason for you to be here. But he was mistaken, he knew that you had been through something actually. He walked out onto the porch, looking at you. You hadn’t even notice he was there.

You only took your eyes off the sky once Hawks sat down next too you. You turned your head to the side on your knees, looking over the man. You gave him a soft smile, then turned your head back to the sky. “What are you doing out here?” He asked softly. You rarely got to hear his voice, it was a bit raspy from how little he used it. “I’m watching the sunset.” You said back at him. “Why?” He asked, which he thought was a stupid question. He loved watching the sunset while he was flying through the sky, deep down he just wanted to keep hearing your voice.

“Because I’m not going to live forever, I find it very peaceful and beautiful.” You said softly. Hawks just studied your face, how your eyes were lit up from watching the colors change before your eyes. You could feel his eyes on you, so you decided to try and see if you could read him. You fixed your mind onto him, matched his breathing, and then closed your eyes for a little. But just like before, shooting pain came across the back of your head. You felt a little dizzy, you pulled your legs down quickly and put your arms out to stable yourself. You blinked a few times, and shook your head a bit.

Hawks got a little worried looking at you, he leaned in a little. “Are you alright?” He asked, concern laced into his voice. He went to put a hand on your back, but quickly took it away before it touched you. You looked at him, your vision a little hazy. You gave him a small smile, he could tell it was forced. “Y-Yeah, just a headache.” You said back. Slowly getting up to walk back into house. “I’m going to go lay down. Hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” You said softly, but as you started to walk to the door, you stumbled a little. Bracing yourself against the door frame.

Hawks was quick to your side, holding onto your hip. His reaction time was still quick, but not fully back to were it once was. “You aren’t okay.” He said too you, guiding you back to your room. He walked slowly with you, keeping at your pace. Once you reached your room, Hawks brought you in. Letting you sit on your bed. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You said softly, pulling your legs up so you could lay down. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but as he looked at you he could tell you were so tired. “No problem, it’s kind of what I do.” He said back.

You smiled at him, nodding your head as you brought your covers up to your chest. “Of course, that’s why you’re a top pro.” You said back at him. He was a little shocked by that, he honestly didn’t think you knew who he was. He actually had a small smirk come to his lips, he said goodnight and was back into his room. A few hours went by, Hawks couldn’t sleep. All he heard was how badly you were thrashing in your sleep. Then he heard you scream, it was like you were dying. He quickly left his room, busting into yours and that’s when he saw you.

You were curled into yourself, light sweat covering your skin. Tears were coming down your cheeks, and you were breathing so hard. You were shaking, eyes still closed from your sleep. Hawks walks over, sits down onto your bed. He shakes you awake lightly, trying not to scare you any further. You woke up in a panic anyways, looking around as you pushed yourself against your headboard. Hawks hushed you, making sure you knew you were okay. “It’s just me, calm down. You’re okay.” He said softly, softly putting his hand on your knee.

You just broke down, crying hard as you looked at him. Hawks knew he hasn’t been the most open or nice too you, but seeing you like this just broke his heart. He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you as you cried into his chest. He wasn’t going to ask what you dreamt about, he just held you. He was softly stroking your hair, hushing you as you shook in his arms. He let some time pass until he noticed that you had fallen asleep against him. He didn’t want to disturb you, he just looked over your face taking it all in.

That’s when the moonlight hit across your face, what he thought before was right. You did cover something with makeup on your face, it was a scar. You had a scar coming from top left of your forehead, all the way down across your nose to your jawline. He lightly ran his finger over it, thinking about what you had possibly been through. He didn’t understand why you would cover it, you’re gorgeous and a scar wasn’t going to take away from that. He pulled you down with him, letting you cuddle up to him while laying down. He rested his chin on top of your head, slowly drifting off to his own sleep.

You felt the warmth of the morning sunrise on your face, slowly fluttering your eyes open. You didn’t know how you were going to face Hawks after what happened last night. You turned over, you might as well start to get ready but you were stopped. Hawks never left you last night, he was still sleeping next to you. You looked over him, his bandages around his face came off a few days before. He was scarred like you, his a lot fresher than yours. You ran your fingers along his skin, you could feel the different textures in his skin. He moved a little bit from the touch, which you quickly took your hand back. He seemed so peaceful sleeping, you didn’t want to disturb him.

After that night into the morning, your relationship had gotten a lot better with Hawks. He came out of his room more, started to eat dinner with you, watched the sunset with you every evening, and even went out of his way to make sure you were doing better. He was slowly feeling like himself again, he was recovering pretty quickly. But as he started to recover more and more everyday, you seemed to be getting worse. Your headaches were getting worse by the day.

One day while you were outside with your PT specialist, Hawks watched from the common area. He had never seen your quirk, he wanted to see if you were progressing at all. He went into the kitchen quickly to grab a glass of water, when he came back to the window he was seeing red. You were on the ground, your hands holding your head as you started to throw up. Your PT specialist didn’t even move, didn’t see if you were alright. Hawks dropped the glass and rushed outside. You were crying, and your specialist was wide-eyes as Hawks came rushing at him.

“What did you do to her.” He said sternly as he gripped the mans shirt tightly in his fist. The man was studdering, saying this was part of her recovery and she needed to move past the pain. Hawks threw the man to the ground, his gaze was looking through him and he practically hissed while he spoke to him. “If you push her that hard again, I’ll end you. She’s done with PT today.” He said sharply, walking over to gather you up into his arms. He brought you back inside, bringing you to the bathroom. He sat you on the toilet, taking a damp wash cloth to wipe your mouth and cheeks. He helped you back into your favorite chair, waiting for you to speak.

“Thank you.” You said softly then finally met his eyes. You could see the worry over his face, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You aren’t dying right?” He asked, you could see the concern in his eyes. You laughed slightly at him. Shaking your head as you kept looking at him. “No, I’m not dying Hawks. Sometimes it feels that way though.” You said softly. He moved his chair closer to you, holding your knee. “Tell me what happened.” He said. You sighed, leaning back into your chair.

“I was attacked by three villains, my quirk was strong but not strong enough. My quirk is the ability to read minds, control others thoughts, and even pull memories you didn’t even know you had. If I think hard enough I can even manipulate memories. But dealing with three people at the same time can put stress on my quirk. They over powered me, they decided to repeatedly slam my head into the concrete.” You started to trail off, rubbing the back of your head while recalling the memory. Hawks squeezed your knee, letting you know that it’s ok.

“I stayed in the hospital for months, in and out of it all the time. They fractured my skull in two places, broken several of my ribs, wrist, and leg. The Commission sent me here to recover by myself, that was seven months ago..” You said, a frown coming to your lips. “My bones healed, but my mind didn’t. After the accident, I couldn’t use my quirk anymore. Something about the nerves in my brain weren’t lining up anymore. They said it was going to be a long and painful recovery. I thought they were being extreme, but they were fucking right.” You started to trail off, getting lost in the fact that you weren’t whole anymore.

“I’m broken, and I don’t think I’ll ever be put back together.” You said softly, more to yourself than Hawks. But he understood what you mean, being without your quirk after having it since birth is scary. “I understand. I truly do, I thought I had lost my wings. Not being a hero ever again would probably ruin me. You’ll get better.” He said squeezing a little tighter on your knee. You sighed, looking out the window. “It wouldn’t matter if I ever got it back, I’m expendable. That’s why I’ve been here for so long, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.” You said, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Hawks was slowly breaking on the inside, he could see how much this hurt you. He leaned in to wipe the tear away from your cheek, letting his thumb rub your skin a little more. You turned your cheek into his hand, just enjoying the tenderness he was showing you. Hawks noticed that the sun was starting to set, he pulling on your hand. “Let’s go watch the sunset.” He said, helping you up. As you sat together watching the sunset, you leaned your head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself a little, letting his head rest on yours.

As you watched the sunset together, you looked up to some birds flying together. Two little blue jays, diving down to just shoot back up into the sky. “What is it like to fly?” You asked him. Hawks smiled, looking at the birds as well. His wings shook a little, causing him some discomfort. They were still healing, but it was getting better. “It’s like having all the freedom in the world. To feel the rush of wind against your skin, the feeling of being so high, there is really nothing like it.” He said. You smiled, he seemed so happy to talk about something he loves to do. “Sounds like an amazing experience.” You said softly. Hawks nuzzled you a bit closer. “I’ll take you into the sky one day.” He said back. This made you smile brightly, pushing your head into his shoulder more. “I’d really like that.” You said back.

After the sun finally had set, Hawks helped you back up. You were a little dizzy, but he was there to support you. Bringing you back into your room, your walking wasn’t stable really. He waited for you to change, making sure you didn’t fall over. Once you came from the bathroom, you were in a tank top and shorts. That’s when he saw them, all of them. You didn’t just have a scar on your face and shoulder. They were on your arms, legs, and the little bit of torso that was showing. You got a little embarrassed, rubbing your own arms as he looked.

Hawks didn’t realize how hard he was staring at you until he noticed you looked so uncomfortable. All that was running through his head was that he wanted to hurt the people who hurt you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare for so long.” He said softly. You assured him that it was okay, you couldn’t hide them forever. You walked over to your bed, pulling back the covers so you could slip under them. “Could you stay?” You asked him quietly. He nodded, slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close to him so your face was nuzzled into his chest. “Did they ever catch the villains that did this too you?” He asked bluntly.

“No. They never found them.” You said back. Hawks up held you tighter, rubbing the long scar along your shoulder. “I’ll find them, they will pay for what they did to you.” He said against your hair. You held onto his waist, letting your fingers slowly rub his skin under the hem of his shirt. “That’s okay, Hawks. You don’t need to bother yourself with that.” You said. Hawks brought a hand up to let his fingers rub through your hair. “Call me Keigo, y/n. And I will find them.” He said back. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be swallowed by his comfort. “Thank you, Keigo.” You said softly before drifting off into sleep.

This became a regular thing for the both of you, you quickly realize that sleeping together caused you both not to have nightmares anymore. Then it was time for the bandages around Keigos arm and ribs to come off. You helped him, pulling them off slowly to show the newly scarred skin. You rubbed his arms, letting yourself feel the texture. Everything was going really well, your relationship with Keigo was very peaceful now. Sadly you just had to put him through a huge scare.

It was getting around the time for you both to go out on the porch to watch the sunset. You walked into the kitchen to put the dishes from your early dinner into the sink. You could feel yourself become dizzier than normal, black spots coming to your vision. As you made your way back into the common room, you felt a little trickle of blood come from your nose. You looked at Keigo who was looking out the window. “Keigo-“ you said quickly and as soon as he turned around you fell to the floor. Keigo was right at your side. “Y/n! Wake up! HEY!” He yelled to you but the blood kept coming from your nose. He was quick to pick you up into his arms, rushing out of the cabin.

He stretched his wings out behind him, pain radiating through them to his back. He pushed that out of his mind, then he was in the air with you. This wasn’t the way he wanted to bring you into the sky with him for the first time. He flew to the closet hospital he could find, bringing you in. Doctors quickly took you into a room, a scan showed that you had a brain aneurysm. Bleeding into your skull, but luckily Keigo got you there just in time. It was still a few days before you woke back up. Keigo had to pay off the doctor so they wouldn’t let the news know about him being the hero he was. He knew if the Commission found out that he could fly while carrying someone, they’d make him leave.

He never left your side, constantly holding your hand as you were sleeping. So many thoughts were running through his mind, he couldn’t stop them. He thought what if you never woke up, what if you didn’t remember the beautiful memories that you both shared, what if you didn’t remember him. He gripped your hand a little tighter, soft tears running down his cheeks as he looked over your face. “Please wake up for me, Angel. You’re everything I need in this life.” He said lowly as he rubbed your knuckles. Soon he placed his face onto your bed, letting the sounds of machines put him to sleep.

You fluttered your eyes open, looking to the side to see Keigo sleeping. You smiled softly at him, slowly letting your fingers slip through his hair with little effort. Keigo slowly woke, letting his golden eyes meet yours. Tears started to come down his face as he looked at you, leaning up so you could take his face into your chest. You let him cry softly into you, cooing him to calm down while saying you were okay. “I thought you lied too me...” he said softly. You pulled his face up so you could look at him. “What?” You said.

“When I saw the blood coming from your nose, I thought this was it. You were dying and you just told me you weren’t so I wouldn’t worry as much. I thought I was going to lose you, someone that I lov-“ Keigo was cut off once your lips met his. His eyes were slightly wide, a little tension in his lips. But as you leaned in more to deepen the kiss, he relaxed into it. It was breath taking, like you were meant to be with Keigo. Everything just seemed to fit so well when it came to him. You finally felt whole.

You were released from the hospital, Keigo bringing you back to what you call home now. His wings were almost back to what they used to be, large and powerful. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the PT specialist would call Keigos handler to have him come back. You were way further from being “ok” than you ever were, but it’s okay. You were going to enjoy what little time you have left with him. Going back into the rhythm you both set before your scare.

It was a cool evening, snow was starting to fall from the sky. It was time to watch the sunset, you bundled up in a cozy sweater and soft pants. Keigo in a jacket with joggers, you were both silent as you watched the colors changed. Keigo just beamed at the way you looked at the sky, it filled his heart with pure joy. He stood up, standing before you with a hand out. You looked at him confused but there was a smirk on your lips. You took his hand, standing up. “Can I take you into the sky?” He said as he pulled you close to him. You nodded, slipping your arms around his neck.

He ascended into to the sky slowly, making sure not to make you feel nauseous. But once you were above the tree line, your smile was bright. Honestly it could rival the sun by how much it was glowing. Keigo enjoyed the pure happiness on your face, not taking his eyes off of you. “I love you, y/n.” He said softly against your ear. You kissed him sweetly, a soft tear trailing down your cheek. “I love you, Keigo.” You said back.

You had descended down to the ground, being pulled quickly inside the cabin. Keigo was pulling at your clothes as you pulled at his. As you made it into your room, you were both completely naked. Keigo pushed you onto the bed, kneeing in front of you as he pulled your legs over his shoulders. He leaned in, letting his tongue lick a broad stripe up your entrance. You threw your head back at the sensation, feeling a tingle through your body that you hadn’t felt in a while. Keigo softly moaned as he tasted you, letting his tongue repeat the motion. Then his tongue lapped quickly against your clit, making you buck your hips slightly at the feeling.

He pulled his face away, you whined slightly at the lost of his warm tongue. But you watched him suck on his middle finger before teasing it at your entrance. You were soaked, his finger slipped in with ease. He pumped his finger in and out of you a few times before slowly pushing in his index finger. You moaned, it was music to his ears. “So wet for me, Angel. Such a good fucking girl.” He half moaned before leaning back down to suck on your clit. That’s all you needed to be a twitching mess, moaning sharply before falling over the edge. You were panting, but you quickly pulled Keigo up by his face so your lips could meet again.

Letting his tongue invade your mouth, tasting yourself on it. It made you moan against the kiss, tugging on his hair. “Let me taste you.” You moaned against his ear, which Keigo gave you an approving nod. He quickly sat on the bed while you were the one slipping down to your knees. His cock is huge you though, admiring it before letting your tongue run along his shaft. Keigo bit down on his bottom lip at the feeling, not taking his eyes off you. Your tongue swirled around his head, then your lips took him. Inch by inch, Keigo watched his length disappear into your mouth.

Once you got to the base of him, he let out a loud moan. You came back up all the way to his head before slipping in back down your throat. Your hand came up to rub his balls softly, causing Keigo to buck into your mouth. He pulled you back, causing a loud pop from your mouth once his cock left it. You looked up at him, lust and love in your eyes. He looked back at you with the same eyes. “I need you now, Angel.” He mummers, pulling you up to place you back on your back. He was quickly over you, caging your head in with one of his arms. Letting his other hand guide his length into your hole.

He slowly pushed himself inside you, his fists gripped the sheet right next to your head. You gaped at him, mouth hung open while you felt him bottom out inside you. He held himself there for a moment, letting you get used to his size. “Fuck, you’re so tight for me.” He cooed, and you moaned out. That’s when he started to slow thrusts, slowly sliding in and out of you. The pace was slow but you could feel him so deeply inside of you, his head kissing your cervix. You wrapped your hands around his back, letting your nails softly scratch down the center between his wings. He nearly lost it when he felt you come close to the base of his left wing.

You could see his wings twitching behind him, shuttering with each thrust he put into you. “C-Can I touch them?” You moaned softly out to him. He whined as he felt you tighten around his length. “Please, touch my- ahh fuck.” Was all he managed to get out because you buried your finger into his wings right after “please” left his mouth. He was losing it above you, your release coming quicker as he moaned out to you. “You’re going to make me cum...fuck.” He moaned against your ear, you wrapped your leg around his waist. “Cum baby, please cum inside me. I want to feel it.” You moaned back.

Keigo hissed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he came to his high. He slipped his hand between both of you, rubbing hard circles against your clit. It threw you over the edge once more, clamping down on his shaft. He shuttered, moaning as he felt you milk him for everything he had. He was panting, trying to keep himself up so he didn’t crush you with his weight. You placed a kiss on his cheek, smiling up at him. He was still fully inside you, looking over your face. “You’re everything to me, I want you for the rest of my life. I want you to have my children, be my soulmate until we take our last breaths.” He said breathlessly.

You smiled up at him, thinking about the life you can have with him. You nodded at him, pulling him down to kiss him. “Then give me your children, Keigo. I am already your soulmate, and I would love to bare your children.” You said against his lips. That’s all Keigo needed before he started to thrust into you again. The rest of the night was feverish love making, Keigo was going to go until there was nothing left in his balls. To make sure you were fully bred by him, marking you as his for the rest of your lives. You couldn’t think of a time you were perfectly happy with being alive.

Sadly a few weeks later, Keigo had to go back. The city was getting worse by the day, his wings and body had fully healed. He promised he was going to pull a few strings to get you out of the cabin, out of the Comission to bring you home with him. He visited as much as he could, always keeping in contact with you and making sure you were doing great. You missed him so much, but you knew that it was only temporary. You’d wait a thousand life times if it meant you could be with Keigo again.

Four months had passed, Keigo hadn’t been able to visit for a month. He was sent on countless missions, keeping him busy at all times. You understood, it didn’t bother you because he still called you daily. You were sitting out on the porch, softly rubbing your belly as you watched the sunset. Footsteps coming from your right, you looked over to meet those beautiful golden eyes for the first time in a while. You smiled, slowly standing up. Keigo looked over you, you seemed to be glowing. A bit a fullness in your cheeks, you had a oversized sweatshirt on but he heard it.

He hear a little heartbeat along with yours, tears coming to his eyes as he rushed over to you. You embraced him, holding him as he softly cried into your neck. You already knew he knew, he was happy that everything he ever wanted in life with you was coming true. He put his hand over your stomach, feeling how full it was. You looked up at him with loving eyes. Kissing him while the sunset behind you. He did it, he pulled the strings to bring you back with him. Even if he didn’t, he was going to bring you back with him regardless.

He was going to give you and his child all that he had, and nothing was going to stop him from doing this. He had his mate, the love of his life, and a child he was going to give the world. Keigo always thought he had something missing in his life, but he was complete when he found you.

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the-customer-is-an-asshole · 2 years

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Ok y'all, so I've been working remote for a call center for a medicaid dental company for almost 2 months now. And it's honestly better than retail, but there are still some definite pros and cons.

Pros:

Working from home fucking rules.

I was in training for over a month, 2 weeks in an actual training class, 3 weeks in a nesting period (basically you're taking calls, getting comfortable with taking calls, but you're still technically in training so there's like this safety net) and I feel like I actually got properly trained before transitioning to operations.

This company is awesome. They genuinely want you to succeed, and they even promote from within. Like seriously. 2 out of the 3 team leads when I was in nesting got promoted in the 3 total weeks I was in nesting, and even another coworker and I got offered higher positions a week into training.

My coworkers and even my supervisors are great. In my training class I was with the best group of people I've ever worked with. We all got kind of split up when we all moved to operations and I genuinely miss them.

I also feel like I'm genuinely helping people.

It's full time, and I get health, dental, and vision insurance.

Cons

The people. OH MY GOD THE PEOPLE. It's the same dumbass people I've had to deal with in retail, but now they're not breathing down my neck, which is honestly better.

"Can you help me find an eye doctor?" Ma'am we are a medicaid DENTAL insurance company. (I understand that they may have one card for their entire medicaid plan, but this happens too often)

Trying to find a dentist that will take medicaid is absolutely infuriating sometimes. Especially in rural areas and...Florida??? For some reason???

Like seriously I had someone from Florida was trying to find a dentist for their 3 year old who had tooth pain, and it was damn near impossible. And it wasn't like they were in a small town or rural area, they were in like, Orlando.

Another time I had someone from Idaho call trying to find a prosthodontist (dentist who specializes in dentures) and the only one I could find, was over 100 miles away from their zip code, wasn't accepting new patients, and didn't even accept medicaid for people over 18. And this was the only one I could find within a 250 mile radius, which is as far as my portal will let me search.

When assigning a dentist to a member, I can't just assign them to a dental group. No, I have to assign them to an individual facility, as well as an individual dentist. Makes sense, cause some facilities within the dental group might take our insurance. Some others may not, and I just can't assign them to any dentist in that facility, cause what if that dentist is completely booked out for the next 6 months? Or what if they're retiring tomorrow? Or what if it's a specialist that's only there once a month? But this is especially frustrating when the people calling don't remember the name of the dentist. And most of them will ask if they can call and see, but then there's the ones that are just like "Oh I didn't make an appointment yet, can't you just assign me any dentist?" Or the one lady who got snippy and said " Well I gave YOU the number, can't YOU call and check?" As if it's my fucking responsibility to know which dentist you made the appointment with.

There is one thing I hate more than anything else in this job, and it is filing disenrollment requests. I can understand why people want to dis-enroll. Maybe the dentist that they're seeing no longer accepts our specific insurance and they really want to stay with that provider, or they're having a problem trying to find any dentist that will take this insurance. That's understandable. I don't have a problem with that. I have a problem with the entire process in general. Because it's not like some box I can check that says "Member would like to dis-enroll" No, I have to file a grievance, and then get approval from my supervisor before I can submit it, and then this person, who just wants to go to the dentist, has to wait for us to send in a letter (which there's no time frame for how long that could take, so if the person has a dental emergency and can't find any dentists that will take their insurance, they're just fucked I guess) telling them whether or not the request was approved or denied, because yes, a disenrollment request can be denied, for WHATEVER REASON. And it takes FOREVER. If it's just one person it's not so bad, but yesterday I had to dis-enroll a mother and her SEVEN CHILDREN. I was on that call for OVER AN HOUR. Not to mention our messaging system was down so I had to get approval by emailing my supervisor, which takes longer and is harder because I can't send confidential medical info through email. That's a HIPAA violation.

Our breaks and lunches are scheduled, and it's fucking bonkers. Why on earth is my lunch break at 3:15, when I start at 9AM??? Why is my last break scheduled half an hour before I leave for the day? And why do I have to fill out an adherence tracker form whenever I'm late for my breaks? I was on a call??? My supervisors are able to see that???

#overall i like this job #there's just some parts of it that piss me off #and of course you have to deal with stupid people in any customer service job but that’s just how it be #customer service hell #call center #medicaid

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mxndoscyarika · 3 years

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Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 1

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for you all to read this story! Special thanks go to Lynn (@mindless--ramblings) for always being so supportive and helping me stay inspired! Ever since I found out Pedro now has two characters named Marcus, I’ve wondered about ways I could connect them in one piece of writing. And this? This is that piece of writing. Moreno won’t be making an appearance in this one, but I hope Pike will make up for that 😉 Enjoy!

Ground floor.

First floor.

Second.

Erin He took a deep breath, thankful that the elevator was empty. She straightened the collar of her shirt as the fourth floor approached. At her side was her government-issued laptop, which she’d picked up from the front desk. Her fingers gripped its edges tightly. This was it. She made it.

The elevator let out a soft ding and opened its doors, revealing a floor of cubicles and conference rooms. Austin sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the space alongside the bright fluorescent lights.

She stepped out, searching for the art theft department’s main office. As much as she understood the need for technology specialists across all the FBI’s branches, she never quite grasped why she was placed in the art theft department, of all places. She always thought she’d be in the operational technologies department, developing and maintaining tools for others to use. Though she couldn’t blame them; intellectual property was highly valued and often stolen.

The email said to report to the department supervisor’s office for a quick onboarding, but they didn’t exactly mention what it would be. It could’ve been anything from a quick handshake to being told to shadow a coworker. Hopefully the former.

Part of her begged to the gods of computer science that she wouldn’t be assigned to yet another condescending old white man. Her last welcome at a company had been less than mediocre, and lukewarm at best.

The other part of her nagged that she’d signed up for exactly that.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome to your first day, Special Agent He,” the department supervisor–Harold Strauss–greeted as she entered his office. He gestured to the man standing in front of his desk. “This is Agent Marcus Pike. He will be showing you the ropes today.”

Agent Pike looked at her over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curling in a friendly smile. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with his faint smile lines and soft brown hair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned around to face her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She shook his hand and then extended her hand to Pike. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking time out of your day to show me around.”

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. His brown eyes sparkled as he proposed, “Should we start? I have a meeting in about half an hour, and I’m sure you’ll want to meet some of our operational techs and digital forensics team. They’re the backbone of everything we do here.”

They acknowledged their supervisor once more and then left to begin the tour.

As her personal guide gave her the rundown of the floor’s organization and workflow, Erin couldn’t help but sneak a couple more glances at him.

He was taller than her by a few inches, but not in such a way that she felt like shrinking into herself. And he always stayed at her side, never walking ahead or lagging behind. His strong jaw led her gaze to a pair of soft lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual smile as he talked about the breakthroughs the department had in the past days.

“Do you know where your desk is?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, they told me the other day,” she answered, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. They walked over to her assigned desk, which was barren save for a standard computer, box of pens, and notepad. “If you’re going to ask if I need help with setup, I think I should be alright for now. Nothing a few installations and linux commands can’t fix.”

He chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re living up to your title, Agent He. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve been much help even if I offered. Have you done work similar to this before?”

She shrugged. “I worked in cybersecurity and software development,” Erin replied, setting down her bag and laptop on her desk. Slipping off her black blazer, she continued, “But I figured I should do something more than just build products for tech companies. Use my skills to aid in investigations.”

He nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Actually, I was originally studying to be an art history professor. But then I found this job and figured I could use my knowledge to help find and preserve artworks.”

Hm, noble.

“Sounds like we aren’t so different,” she observed, following him across the officespace. “Let’s hope that I can be of help around here.”

He chuckled softly, the dimple in his cheek showing as he smiled. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

---

The words on the screen blurred into the white background of the screen, as if they were mocking her. Each line of test slowly lost its meaning, turning into mind-numbing strings.

Erin pushed her computer away and rubbed her eyes defeatedly, sighing. The department was launching an investigation regarding a museum that was broken into and wiped clean. What little data was left on the computers, from what she gathered after hours of poring over them, was largely useless. Hopefully, one of the other agents would find something helpful in the other remnants. Perhaps an address, or some sort of signature that could be traced to a group. Her, on the other hand? She just wasted hours of work.

A steaming cup of coffee was set down onto her desk, along with some sugar and tiny cups of cream.

She looked up to find Marcus–Pike, she reminded herself–standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” she sighed. It turned out that Pike was one of the best agents in the department, and that meant he spent most of his time leading and organizing investigations. What that meant for Erin, then, was that she had to answer to him. Thankfully, he was never weird about it. Quite the opposite, actually. Tapping the side of the cup, she asked, “Is this for me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! Sorry; I would’ve fixed it, but I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.”

“Well it’s nothing complex, if that’s what you’re nervous about,” she teased. Two sugars and a drizzle of cream turned the pitch black liquid into a deep brown. She took a sip, the placebo of caffeine already kicking in. “When you’re in STEM, you learn to appreciate caffeine in any form. But I like it like this.”

“Noted,” he said, his voice a soft timbre amongst the flutter of papers and clacking of keys. Hands resting on his hips he asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before you find anything?”

“Anywhere from an hour to another three...or five,” she sighed, lazily scrolling down the file. Basking in the steam from her cup, she continued, “I’m gonna need a lot more of this coffee. There has to be something useful in this file, I just need to find it. I might need to cross-reference with some of the other evidence to notice anything.”

A headache was already descending upon her, and she was only six hours in. Weak–she’d stared at a computer much longer without any problem many times before. Why, of all times, did it have to happen when she was talking to her coworker?

“Well, I’ll be here pretty late tonight, so if you need anything, just let me know,” he replied, patting her shoulder. The crease between his brows deepened as he squinted down at the screen. “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on it. Take a break, Erin.” At her responding pout, he reasoned, “It’s been almost a month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rest.”

Of course he noticed her breaks, or lack thereof. She rolled her eyes, hiding a bashful smile in her cup. “I work best in sprints.”

He hummed amusedly. “But even sprinters need breaks, don’t they?” Then, his eyes lit up. “Actually, why don’t you take a break now?”

Erin raised a brow. “Am I not taking a break right now?”

His laugh was warm. “I mean a real break. Let’s get lunch; my treat.”

“Are you really going to make me choose between food and digital forensics, Agent Pike?”

Nodding definitively, he replied, “Yes, Agent He.”

Unable to resist the prospect of free lunch, she gave in and followed him out to his car. The work would still be there when she returned. For the moment, she could just enjoy Marcus’s companionship.

He drove out to a local diner about ten minutes away, his turns confident as if he’d gone there hundreds of times before. Judging by the way his eyes had sparked with joy at her agreement, he probably had.

They let their shoulders relax in the serenity of the car, shedding the formalities and passing time as if they were close friends.

The diner was small and cozy, booths worn with age and serving breakfast all day. Erin’s lips curled up in a little smile as the hostess recognized Marcus. So he was a regular, after all.

They sat down across from each other in a booth. Erin shrugged off her navy blue blazer and smoothed her dark hair back into a thick ponytail.

As she fixed her hair, Marcus gave her his recommendations, leaning in with the menu so she could follow along with her eyes. He seemed particularly fond of the pancakes, so she decided on those. Surely he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And with the way his voice rasped just slightly, she could listen to him speak for a whole day.

“Honey? Did you hear anything I said?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a little smirk.

Erin snapped out of her reverie, cheeks burning. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit.”

“No worries, it happens to all of us,” he reassured, laying the menu flat on the table. “What were you thinking about?”

Less than an hour had passed before they were back in the office, stepping out of the elevator with full bellies. The familiar clicking from computers and buzz of conversations filled the air, and they were officially agents again.

Erin turned to him and nudged his arm. “Hey, thanks for the break.”

“Anytime,” he replied, walking with her along the perimeter of the room. They stopped at the hallway leading to the conference rooms and offices. His large hand moved to rest on her arm, his thumb rubbing gently. “I guess this is my stop. You know where to find me.”

“And you know where I’ll be.”

The next day, Marcus was greeted in his office by tupperwares containing homemade fried rice, some cut up fruit, and a sticky note.

Thanks for sticking with me yesterday. -E

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to refrain from grinning like a maniac, though he was sure anyone who happened to pass by would’ve thought he looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. Erin’s handwriting was soft and curved, so similar to calligraphy but simple in a way that made the note feel that much more intimate.

She had an interesting way of showing her care for others, he found. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the work she dedicated her life to; she seemed to always be one step ahead, ready to pull out small details that others would dismiss. He wondered what she might know of him.

There were a few things she clearly knew; things that surprised him every day. Just as he’d learned her usual coffee order, she’d learned his. When he’d walk in every morning, her head of dark hair would tilt to peek over her cubicle, as if she could sense his presence. And when their eyes would meet, her smile was better than the best espresso in the world.

Marcus shook his head to himself as his heart fluttered. Years of failed relationships and a divorce later, he still couldn’t keep his feelings in check. His mother always said he had a soft heart, one that would be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. But Erin was anything but a weakness.

She wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. A constant in his life, making each day feel just a little more special. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy, but….he wouldn’t be opposed to one either.

Yet, as he spotted Ian Malarkey standing a bit too close to her, he forced himself to backtrack. What if she didn’t want him? What if they were meant to be just as they were: just friends?

Maybe it was time for him to move on.

After a few months, their friendship had grown well past a workplace acquaintance. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get attached to him; it just...happened. And it was only a little surprising to her; she tried to stay as professional as she could in the office, but outside? Outside, she could just be Erin, not FBI Special Agent He. Outside, she could shed her jacket and swap the button-down shirt for a ribbed sweater and some jeans. Outside, she and Marcus could sit as close together as they wanted without drawing unwanted attention.

She knew it was silly to fantasize. After all, Marcus was a coworker, if not a superior. And with the way he fussed over her water intake and made sure that she wore her glasses at the right times, he could easily see her as a little sister. As nothing more than a new agent who happened to be friendly.

But if that were true, why would he go through the effort of bringing her lunch on Thursdays? Why did he call her little names like “honeydew” and “sweetheart,” and why did it feel so natural coming from his mouth?

The commotion coming from the direction of the conference rooms told her that the team was back from the investigation. Maybe Marcus was there; she knew he’d gone, but he hadn’t texted since morning. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in to check on him; he did that often enough with her.

When she entered the break room, her heart sank. Sitting off to the side, by the wall, was Marcus asking Teresa Lisbon out on a date. She wasn’t sure why she felt defeated; it wasn’t like she had any plans on asking him out.

But then why did it hurt her to the core to see him giving those puppy eyes and little smiles to Lisbon? The woman didn’t even look interested in him; if anything, she looked confused and hesitant.

Ian caught her eye as she surveyed the room once more, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped smile. He knew about her feelings for Marcus, having spent hours going over evidence and making small talk. In fact, he’d even encouraged her to tell Marcus her feelings, out of fear that she might never get the chance.

Perhaps her chance had passed after all. Turning on her heel, Erin decided that, for once, it was time to go home. Marcus would come to her when he was less busy.

The thing was, though, she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to go over and say hello, and check to make sure he wasn’t injured in the scuffle. Moreover, she didn’t want to be a fill-in for Lisbon’s absence. She didn’t want to be his second choice. And she knew it wasn’t her fault, nor Lisbon’s, that Marcus didn’t choose her. But it still stung.

She watched as their shared lunches became less frequent, the senior agent replacing her space by Marcus’s side. When the elevator would ding at 7AM and she’d glance up to see if it was him, she found him searching the room for Lisbon. They never drifted over to her desk. That fact always made her grip her pen just a little tighter.

On the days when he did grace her with his presence, she felt like a tornado of emotions.

Happy, because she had missed her best friend.

Sad, because she knew the next time she’d spend time with him was in a few weeks rather than a few days.

Grateful, because she knew how hard it was to socialize after a work week of at least 50 hours.

Envious, because of the stories he told.

Relieved, because he still cared.

Plastering a halfhearted smile on her face, Erin listened to Marcus practically worship his girlfriend. His summer breeze of a smile and sparkling eyes made the pain that came with listening worth it. The only other time she’d heard him talk that passionately was when they’d visited an art museum.

At least one of them was happy.

She thought of trying to date again; it had been over a year since she’d been in a relationship. But she couldn’t do it. More than once, she’d put on some simple makeup and casual clothes, ready to head out to the bar, but no. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment. The apartment was where she and Marcus watched movies, where she would cut up fruit and bring them to him on a plate while he pored over reports in the warm lights of the kitchen. It was where he’d navigate her cupboards and fridge to make her a mug of his special hot chocolate. It was her safe space, the one place in her life where she could just be Erin, and he could just be Marcus.

The knife cleaved the melon in half with ease, revealing its pale green interior.

Marcus leaned up against the counter next to her, hair tousled and necktie loosened against his chest. He absentmindedly started rolling up his sleeves, undoing the cuffs of his shirt and folding them up.

She tried not to stare too long at the way his forearms tensed with the movement.

He broke the silence first. “I got the job in DC,” he said, voice soft like velvet.

“That’s great.” A simple response, though Erin cringed internally. Was that any way to react to her best friend’s job promotion? Surely not, but a part of her–a selfish part of her–knew that it meant he was leaving. Leaving not just his position, but her. Texas. The apartment.

It would’ve been disingenuous for her to say anything more.

Then, he added, almost sheepishly, “I also asked Teresa to marry me. And move to DC so we can be together.”

The blade of her knife hit the cutting board a little harder than normal. “Oh. That’s nice.” Cutting away the tough outer skin, she forced herself to ask, “What did she say?”

He sighed and crossed his arms, biting his lip as if to contain a smile. “She said she’d think about it. But I think she’ll come around. I kind of, uh, sprung it onto her the other night.”

And yet there he was, standing next to a woman who would’ve been ready to say yes. But even so, she said, “I’m sure things will work out between you two. You’ve already given so much to your relationship; it would be a shame for her to not see how great you are.”

She slid him a bowl of perfectly cubed melon.

Smiling softly, he took the bowl into his hands. “You’re the best, honeydew.”

The best, but not the one.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side before you leave for DC, brown eyes,” she jested, nudging him with her elbow. Her chest filled with warmth at his laugh. She tried her best to hang onto that feeling, to that sound. “When are you two leaving?”

“I’m already about halfway packed,” he mused, chewing on a cube of honeydew thoughtfully. “So maybe within the week? I hope that’s enough time for Teresa to make a decision.”

There was less time than she thought. She hummed softly. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? That it’s what you want?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, I...I know that I don’t have the best track record with relationships, but something about her feels right.” The bowl was set into the sink and filled with water. “I’m happy, honey. You don’t have to worry.”

Erin’s eyes burned as she quietly replied, “Okay.”

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f33itan · 3 years

Text

💛⚜️Pᴀʀᴛ 1: Tᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ⚜️💛 (From my Wattpad)

A/N: Ok, this was something a mutual of mine said here on Tumblr, and I decided to write a oneshot about it. Might be very VERY slight angst, nothing bad enough to actually be put under that umbrella though, anyways, enjoy this, and ty for the reads! :)

CW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, DEGRADATION, AND MORE FOUL WORDS THAN USUAL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

B/N: Your Mother's boyfriend's name

M/N: Mother's name

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

"Oi, Y/N! Go get me another pack of beer from the store!"

"Yes father!" Damn that pig looking bitch. I'm just some fucking girl, trying to protect her mom from this demon of a person! Heck, he's not EVEN a person! He's the devil himself!! Man, I wish dad was here...

When you were in about 7th grade, your real father got killed in a massacre a couple cities over. He was not only a police officer, but a great father and husband as well. He treated you and your mother amazingly, and you thought life couldn't get anymore perfect, but soon that all went down hill. After his death, your mother's health depleted and she felt empty inside. She needed somebody else to make her complete. She decided to call an old friend from high school, and next thing you know he moved in. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but soon enough he was beating you guys mercilessly, enough to leave large bruises and scars whenever you didn't do exactly what he asked, in your eyes though, it was more of an order. You hated being ordered around, but you hated your mother getting beaten around even more. It seemed like a blessing that he hasn't tried to rape her, but god knows what he'll do, he's unpredictable

With all of this happening, you decided to tell him you were doing some "extra curricular" classes in college, but what you were actually doing was taking the Hunter's Exam and learning nen. Your biological father was kind-hearted and fun to be around, but he was also strict and sometimes a bit harsh, though he always meant well. Before his passing, all three of you would go out on the weekends to train, exercise, or do something that would enhance your body power and brain power. Because of this, all of you were exceptionally smart, and bodies all well toned. Sometimes your excursions would be going to a park and practicing a sport, driving to the snow and sledding, skiing, snowboarding, and every once in a while going to another state to zip line, try animal encounters, or take a family friendly class in that state's heritage and customs.

Since you were accustomed to hard core training and events, you thought the Hunter's Exam was quite fun, and was a test to your skills. After that, you were scouted out by a strong nen user by the name of Biscuit Krueger. You and her had lots of fun training, and with her pushing your limits to the utmost best, you turned out to be a specialist.

(Whenever I imagine myself in Hunter x Hunter, this is always my nen type and stuff LMAO)

Your power was called, Black shadow. You could have up to 10 weapons on hand, completely subjected to doing your bidding. These weapons were linked to you through blood, and they were surrounded with a substance that appeared to be black mist. The weapons you most preferred to practice with and use were your katana, blood string, and scythe. You could also make a weapon yours by cutting a fingertip and letting the blood drip onto the weapon, altering the appearance then gaining that black "mist", showing that it was now yours. The downside to this technique was that those "shadows and mist remnants" were your sleep. The darkness in your mind and the shadows all around you were taken and used for that power. In turn, you were always tired, yawning, and had bags under your eyes. Another plus side though was that you had a nen created chamber that had every weapon you owned. A girl can have some fun toys, can't she? You had tools for torture (whenever you took an opportunity to try it), many varieties of weapons, and of course, more snacks. But unlike B/N, you didn't have just fatty snacks. You had regeneration potions, healthy snacks, and special nen created "snacks" to help with different things, which all of these you had collected through pulling some strings. Your mother was worried, but you said it was all just college things. Yeah, just college things..

Ill make that pig bitch pay for what he has done to my mother!

Feitan POV -or whats going on with him- :

"What time, is it.."

"8 AM Fei!"

"Shut up, green eyes, too loud."

"Oh Fei don't be rude! It's mean!"

"That's, the point."

"Oh wait, Shalnark, what this?"

"What do you mean?"

"This... gold string?"

"OI SHALNARK, FEITAN, COME ERE' REAL QUICK!"

"Phinks, what, do you, want-" Phinks just ignored his question and pointed to the TV.

This is Channel 12, reporting live from York New City Town Square. People all over the city are claiming to be seeing a string tied to their left ring finger, leading them to some unknown destination! What is this string? Who put it there?-

"AY AY IM ON TV! THE STRING THINGY JUST LEAD ME TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND NOW WERE DATING! SUPER AWESOME!"-

I apologize for the interference, but this string appears t be leading people to.. partners? Soulmates? Find out tomorrow morning, this is Amy Starwick from Channel 12, signing out.

"What. The. FUCK."

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOODNESS HOLY SHIT FEITAN YOU HAVE A SOULMATE!!"

"Nope-"

"YESS YOU DOOOOOOO"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CHEERY BITCH-"

"No❤️" Since Feitan was on his last nerve with Shalnark, he decided to stomp over towards Chrollo in the main room, but Chrollo just chuckled.

"Wanna go find your soulmate? See if that things real?" Feitan just stared at the ground, lightly shifting his feet.

"Go ahead, I don't mind."

"Just, doing it, out of, curiosity."

"Mhm, curiosity, go find them." And with that, he was dismissed. Feitan wanted to say it was curiosity, but deep down he had this feeling there was something else, but what was it? It made his stomach tingle and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore all of this, and just shrugged it off...

꧁꧂꧁꧂TimeSkip to Next Day꧁꧂꧁꧂

Your POV + some Feitan POV:

"Alright, today's the day, he'll be at his work, and on his break, i'll set the plan in motion.." Both me and mom don't like him, and I don't know about her, but I sure hate him, every ounce of him. The plan is simple: 1. Capture mom's boyfriend, 2. Take him to an abandoned building, 3. Torture him and get all of the answers I need, and 4. Kill him. His break is at 12, and he usually goes to get takeout every other Friday, what a pig. I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.

Time: 11:30 AM

Ok, I have everything ready. Fully energized to the utmost extent, Elixirs to bring him back in case he passes out too early, and- what? He's leaving for lunch early? PERFECT! You ran behind some buildings and hid in a two-way alleyway, waiting for him to pass by...

Here we go..

One..

Two..

THREE!

You covered his head with a sack, and took his phone out of his back pocket. Before heading over to your post, you laced the inside of the sack with some sleeping powder and pressed it against his nose and mouth. Within moments he passed out, and you typed in what you hoped to be his password, which was correct. Around 12:30, you were going to text one of his coworkers that he would be "going to a restaurant across town, and ditching work for a day, not wanting to see his stupid good for nothing girlfriend or his dumb daughter." You knew he called you both this because of going through his text messages when he wasn't looking or when he was sleeping. Little did you know that somebody was watching you from afar.

"Hmm... So, she, my, what do people, call it.. soulmate? Seems, interesting..."

Time: 12:00 PM

"Jesus, I new he was a fat ass but I didn't know he weighed this much!" You were tugging him from his legs through the back ways of York New. You wanted to find a secluded area, where once you were done with him you could just toss him somewhere for the birds and maggots to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, you came across a set of abandoned buildings, specifically the one you laid out some extra things. A couple extra weapons, some towels, a change of clothes, a chair and some rope, a couple of flashlights, and of course, some snacks. Lucky for you, the douchebag you've been dragging around like a rag doll was still out cold, so you picked him up and tossed him on the chair, tying his wrists, ankles and neck to the chair.

"Maaannn, this is boring!! When the hell are you gonna wake up?!" As if on queue, you saw his eyes start to flutter open, and you immediately grabbed your box cutter. It wasn't a weapon used by your nen, but it was quite effective.

"What.. who.. wait- Y/N!? WHAT THE FUCK?! UNTIE ME NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS!!" you didn't notice it, but Feitan was watching from the building over.

What, the fuck? Why she kidnap him? That pig? Why? Confusing, gotta keep, watching.

You shoved the box cutter into his left cheek, and you bathed in the glory of hearing his screams of pain.

"How does this feel, you bitch? Everything you've done to my dear mother, everything you've done to me, and heck, YOU WERE PROBABLY BEHIND MY DAD'S MURDER DURING THAT FUCKING MASSACRE!!" B/N noticed the tears in your eyes, and took this to his advantage.

"So what if I was? Both of your parents were pathetic anyways."

"NO THEY AREN'T! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY MOTHER'S LIKE THIS NOW! YOUR THE FUCKING REASON FOR EVERYTHING SHITTY THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"

"Heh, hehe.. hahaHAHAHA! YOU KNOW GOD DAMNED WELL THAT ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC! WANNA KNOW WHY I GOT WITH YOUR MOM!? BECAUSE SHES HOT. AND SHE HAD GOOD MONEY FROM YOUR FUCKING DAD. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS GONNA DO?! YOU KNOW WHY I TOOK OFF EARLY TODAY?! I WAS GONNA RAPE YOUR MOTHER AND MAKE YOU WATCH, THEN KILL BOTH OF YOU AND RUN OFF WITH ALL OF YOUR MONEY!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S IRONIC?! I DON'T HAVE ONE. SINGLE. FUCKING. REGRET. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAD, YOU SOULDN'T HAVE HAD THE NERVE TO DO THIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!!"

You couldn't handle this anymore, tears were falling down your face rapidly as you grabbed the duct tape and closed his mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck about what you say.. I'm going to kill you here. This is your grave. Someday, I'll join you in hell, and when I do, I'll torture you again, and the Devil will laugh. You just watch and ducking wait you, you.. PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIG ASS SLOPPY ASS NASTU FUCKING BITCH!" With that, you grabbed a couple super worms in each hand and shoved them into his ears. Even with the duct tape, you could hear his screams of agony as the worms dug deeper into his ears. You then got our your katana and slashed him across the stomach, and shoved even more worms into that open wound of his. Quickly, you poured a large bottle of the elixir you had brought over him to keep him from dying so quickly. Box cutter still in hand, you carved small lines all over his arms and legs, then ripped off the tape to hear his desperate cries. You imagined he wanted to be dead, but you didn't care. His pain and you pain mixed together and you just started laughing. You through your head back and let yourself laugh. all of the pain this man has caused you and your mom will be repayed today.

But the pressure and stress was too much to handle. Your laughing of victory soon turned into screams and more tears, as you let yourself fall to the ground, not even noticing you didn't hit it hard, something had caught you, or someone..

What the shit am I doing?

Am I really going to kill him?

What's wrong with me?

What will mother think?

What would dad do?

What am I doing with my life?

You soon snapped out of all of those negative thoughts though, as you noticed something caressing your face lightly.

"Rest, now. He, won't die, so quickly. I'm, Feitan." You were a sniffling and crying mess, so all you could do was rush into Feitan's chest and cry. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He had no idea what he was doing, for he had only seen this kind of skin on skin contact in movies. So, he did what those people in the movies did.

"Don't, worry... It's all, going to be.. okay."

Word Count (Including author notes, etc) : 2251

-Wrote February 3, 2021-

Unedited sorry about that lol-

Part 1...

#hxh #hxh oneshot #hunterxhunter #feitan #feitanportor #pov #feitanxreader

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oimoi-op · 3 years

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when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago.

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have.

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet.

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss.

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot.

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up

#personal #iamapincushion #t1d #type one diabetes #type one diabetic #dka #diabetic ketoacidosis #tw hospital #tw dka #i don't think you meant me for to respond with such a long answer #but #well #it's something i've been wanting to post for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity

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libralita · 3 years

Text

Fate: The Winx Saga Unedited Ramble

Alright so I finished the first season of Fate: The Winx Saga and it was pretty fucking dreadful if I’m being honest. Let’s get into it.

First, let’s talk about the production quality because it was lacking in some weird areas. The audio mixing was surprisingly bad in a few places. Most notability when characters were talking over the phone. Every time Bloom speaks to her parents over the phone the voices on the other end are so loud. And most of the time when a character is talking to someone over the phone, their voice over comes in a bit softer with a filter to make it sound poorer quality. The audio was crisp and loud. There was one funny scene where Bloom is on the phone with her parents and she’s outside and there’s a bunch of background noise and her parents are in a quiet house. When it cuts to Bloom’s parents with Bloom on the phone you can’t hear the background noise but when you cut to her you can hear the general outdoor sounds in everything. Also whenever pop songs could come they were so loud. I would always have to turn down my volume because they would be louder than the normal speaking voice. Now for the sets. They were fine? I guess. Generic castle. Generic house. Generic forest. Fine. The costumes were uh…really awful. Mostly because you have the cartoon to compare it to where you had fashion designers design the outfits and you could tell, all the girls were so fashionable. A lot of the outfits were crimes. Terra’s and Stella’s were especially god awful.

And now, I guess I’ll go through the episodes and point out the problems as I see them. Episode one, I have a lot to say because the problems of the show become evident very quickly. So, first the dialogue. The original show had lame slang, especially with Musa, but my god some of this shit was painful. The first instance is when Bloom accuses Sky of mansplaining, so first of all it’s really great to see my childhood icon being sexist. Great. I love it. Second, she isn’t even using the term correct because by definition it is a man must explain to a woman a concept that she already knows in a rude way. Bloom states before this that she doesn’t know what a Specialist is so it’s not something she already knows. The only line that got a snort out of me is when Bloom says “Gryffindor. Explains the judgement.” Now the roommate situation. They totally moved Terra and Aisha because they wanted more drama. Terra is a ball of anxiety and wants to be friends with Musa, Musa’s an empath and can’t deal. Bloom is naturally gifted and a bit of an…well the show wants us to think she’s a free spirt and a rebel but she’s an idiot. Aisha is smart but has to work for ever bit of magic she gets. (despite that one line where she saws she flooded her school because of a math test but whatever) Another thing is that they say guns don’t work on the Burned Ones but if swords do then guns do. It’s stupid.

A great theme of this show is that everyone needs to calm down. As someone who’s lived in a suite like with this with four/five other girls, you’re not going to be best friends with your roommates the first day. Calm down Terra. Back to bad lines. Speaking of calming down, Bloom’s mom takes away her door (Sidenote: Whoever wrote “Don’t you feminist with me. This basic bitch’ll break out her bullhorn and her dissertation and take your ass to school.” Needs a good slap) and so Bloom is so enraged by this that she…nearly kills her parents by burning the house down. Fucking brilliant. That is the thing that enrages her. That. Fucking moronic. Also Bloom’s parents are on the floor but there’s a clear pathway that they can just walk through that Bloom walks through. This could have been solved if you had Bloom walk through the flames because fire fairy Speaking of people needing to calm down Terra is just absolutely insufferable. Riven calls her fat and she her response is to choke him and when he calls her out on this she smiles at him saying “nice to see you again” or something. Fuck off Terra. Attempted murder not acceptable when someone insults you.

Alright, now to talk about Stella (and yes, we’re still on Episode 1) while I think Bloom and Flora were done the dirtiest, they massacred my girl. While I don’t think Stella is the most complex character, I discovered while watching this that I really like her in the original. I especially love the episode she gets her Enchantix and the episode she saves her father from Valtore’s spell. Both episodes are so beautiful and her character shines. She’s a bitch in this show. It explains why and I actually do feel bad for this Stella but my god, my Stella would never. Which might as well be the title of this show, Fate: The Winx Would Never Saga.

Few final problems for the first episode: First they call Bloom a changeling and that’s not what changeling’s are and it’s very distracting. Find a different word. Second, Bloom’s house does not look Californian and probably isn’t. Also if Bloom didn’t want to lose Stella’s ring, then she should have worn it on her fucking finger. Now onto episode 2.

So, another problem with this show is Beatrix, while she’s one of the most interesting characters on the show, the fact she barely interacts with the girls is stupid. They should have just put her and Bloom in the same room together. Then Beatrix could interact with all the girls. Problem solved. But no. However, I actually kind of dig Beatrix’s relationship with Riven, I remember liking it in the original as well when it was with Darcy. Maybe I just like evil couples. Oh and magic has changed. So now there’s five elements Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and Mind. And you use emotions. And seeing Stella tell Bloom to think of negative emotions hurts my soul because I remember the episode where the girls go to Cloud Tower in season 2 and STELLA WOULD NEVER. Onto episode 3 and 4.

Okay so it’s revealed that Bloom was born in 2004 so that means these girls are 16, 17 in Stella’s case. To which I say bullshit. Now, onto Queen Luna. I don’t think she had any lines in the original series, however I will say QUEEN LUNA WOULD NEVER. I hate that Stella has a shit relationship with her mom. I hate that Queen Luna is queen of Solaria. I hate that she’s the Queen of Light despite her name being Luna because she should the Queen of the Moon because that’s how it worked in the original but no. It’s dumb and I hate it. Though, I will say that her treatment of Stella did make my heart hurt. New appreciation for this imposter Stella. One other thing is that Beatrix’s story is the most interesting. Aster Del was cool.

Episode 5 is when I realized that there were only 6 episodes of this series instead of 8 so…this is the penultimate episode and where shit gets real bad. I don’t like seeing Musa having sex, I think I was on my phone when Stella was having sex but seeing Musa with her bra just made my childhood weep a little. Also, how the fuck did Musa not know Stella was there? Also, I kind of like the scene were Stella opens up to Musa but I would have liked to see Musa say “I’m an empath, dummy, I know these girls aren’t judging you.” Speaking of stupid, Bloom. While Farah not telling you the truth about stuff was dumb, you breaking Beatrix out is massively moronic. And then the show decides to make my childhood weep again by having Bloom drug Sky. Thanks sho w, seeing this happen to my childhood OTPs is fucking great. And you know what? I try to hate this show but then it has a soldier facetiming Marco saying that the Batallion is dead and that she has a broken leg. Then she starts running away from the Burned Ones while hobbling with her “broken” leg and the camera stays on her. It’s…it’s a special show.

The show briefly mentions magical convergence and don’t fucking dare. And then…the characters brains magically go bye-bye. First Bloom is a ding dong for leaving the drugged Sky face down. Then Terra, Musa, and Stella are absolute ding dongs for giving Bloom back the key to break Beatrix out. At first I thought they were fine with allowing Beatrix to murder Dane and then Stella just fucking pushes her into the trap and it made it worse. You don’t fucking know that won’t kill her, you ding dongs.

Onto the finale. Aisha gets shit for being the only one who isn’t a ding dong. “Hope the brownie points will keep you company when you have no friends.” My soul. Bloom becomes really fucking confusing because she doesn’t trust Farah or the other staff but then she just randomly trusts Rosalind. And then she points this out that it’s weird that Rosalind wants her to trust her. And then Bloom goes to save her friends. Funny moment: Stella loses signal, she clearly needs to switch over to the plan that one soldier had where she could face time in the middle of a fucking forest with perfect quality. Then back to Bloom where she confronts Farah and says “What if Rosalind isn’t crazy? What if she had a reason to lie?” And she’s just…an idiot because she doesn’t see how that logic can be thrown right back at her with Farah.

Terra continues to be an ass to Musa. Like she just demands that Musa take away his pain and I understand the Musa needs to open up and get past her baggage. However, Terra does it in such a bitchy way that I would have probably slapped her. Also the show pretends that Terra was helping Sam when she did nothing but hold his hand while he writhed in pain. Also, also you clearly have sedatives in this world, fucking use them.

So Saul “killed” Andreas which is stupid on two fronts. Number one, Saul says to at least Sky that he died in a battle but no one ever questions which one. You’d think they’d find his body on the battle field. Number two where the fuck did Andreas’ body go? Did Saul not care? Fucking stupid. Also Andreas raised Beatrix. Interesting. A little…Mortal Instruments but I’ll allow it. Cool reveal.

Then…the things. Uh, while I’m glad that this show about fairies actually has fucking wings for one scene and they’re pretty cool looking with the fire and almost scale like. However…there’s no magical costume which is bullshit.

Finally, Farah’s neck is snapped and that just kind of the final blow to my childhood. So…overall. This was pretty shit as both an adaptation and just as a story. There were a lot of plotholes and stupid things.

#Fate: The Winx Saga #Winx Club #Netflix #bitter

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brandyovereager · 4 years

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The Phoenix Effect - pt. 7

This is the longest chapter I have ever posted! The conversations in this chapter were so much fun to write, I hope you have fun reading them ;). Let me know what you think, I love to hear from you guys!!!

On ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195906/chapters/60178285

Summary: Rowan is in Rifthold with Dorian when a strange phenomenon sweeps the land. Those once dead are popping up alive. Everyday, more and more are Reborn. One day Rowan encounters a Reborn young man who refuses to give his name, only asking to know the whereabouts of Celaena Sardothien.

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius lounged on her throne. Her posture was casual in a way that made her appear superior, but the grin on her face betrayed the childlike joy within her.

Aelin had heard about the reborn phenomenon in Adarlan from Rowan’s reports, and knew all the miraculous details of what was happening. It shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was for her to hear that reborns were showing up in Terrasen.

The first ones arrived in towns near the border between Terrasen and Adarlan. Within a week there were reborns appearing in Orynth. Luckily, Aelin was a swift and wise leader. She was able to quickly institute a procedure for helping reborns similar to the one in Adarlan.

The whole situation was managing smoothly, her mate would be returning home soon, and just three days ago Aelin found yet another reason to be happy.

It seemed there was no real logic to where the reborns popped up. It didn’t coincide with where they died—or even where they had lived most of their lives—because when Aelin last visited the reborn specialists’ center, she was reunited with a dear friend she thought was lost forever.

Somehow the magical force behind this phenomenon had brought Nehemia Ytger to Orynth, alive and well.

Their reunion was joyous and tearful. Aelin had so much to explain to Nehemia, things she never had the chance to say, but all she could get out were incoherent sobs of delight. Several minutes of heartfelt embrace later, the pair was sat close together and calm enough to delve into their much needed conversation.

The story spilled out of Aelin faster than she could think—along with a stream of pent-up apologies and guilt for what happened to her friend. Aelin had blamed herself for so much after Nehemia died, and all that shame came resurfaced as she sat across from the other young woman.

Nehemia adamantly denied any guilt on Aelin’s part, but made sure Aelin knew that she would be forgiven anyway. After sufficient reassurance and long overdue healing, the two friends jumped right in to all the wonderful updates on Aelin’s life.

The young queen excitedly took her old friend on a tour around her castle and introduced her to her court—most of it, at least. Nehemia and Lysandra hit it off wonderfully, and the three spent many hours together with broad smiles on their faces. It filled Aelin’s heart to see two people she loved get along so well. She couldn’t wait for Nehemia to meet Rowan.

Now, three days after their reunion, Nehemia sat beside her in the throne room while she held her court. The two friends exchanged many secret smiles as various courtiers made their—often ridiculous—remarks.

From outside the throne room, Aelin could hear a commotion begin amongst her guards. The Fae queen sat up straighter in her seat and focused her gaze on the large doors ahead of her. As expected, they soon opened and a servant entered.

“Your Majesty, two new reborns have arrived and wish to speak to you.” That was quite odd. Why would her guard have gotten in a fuss over a couple of reborns?

“Reborns should be sent to the specialists’ center to find help. Why should these two be brought to see me?”

“You know these ones, My Queen, they are your family.” A jumble of feelings rushed through Aelin with the servant’s statement, and the look on his face betrayed his knowledge of her reaction.

“My family? Send them in.” Aelin was tingling and buzzing down to her fingertips. The possibility of her own family being amongst those reborn had always been there, but she hadn’t let herself believe it would happen.

The doors to her throne room opened to reveal a male and female, each with golden hair. The male Aelin recognized immediately, and she leapt from her seat to meet him in an embrace.

“Gavriel.” The golden-haired male held her firmly to him with just as much enthusiasm as Aelin felt herself. She had missed him, and Aedion had too.

Stepping back from the beloved Fae, Aelin turned to look at the female beside him. Her heart jumped for a second before she realized that—despite the many similar features—the woman was not her mother. This was Aedion’s mother. There was no denying it, her face so blatantly Ashryver. It was easy to see why Gavriel had once suspected Aelin to be her child.

“I don’t think we ever met, but I am Aelin Galathynius—Rhoe and Evalin’s daughter—and you are Aedion’s mother.” There was no question in her voice.

“Yes, I am Andelin Ashryver. It is wonderful to finally meet you, Aelin. I loved your mother very much, and I owe her everything. You are her spitting image.” Aelin’s heart both warmed and grew heavy.

“I have been told that a lot,” Aelin smiled lightly, “as I’m sure you have too.” Andelin threw a wry smile back at her.

“The Ashryver genes are strong.” Aelin had to agree.

“Aedion got them as well. He looks very much like you.” Andelin’s face softened at Aelin’s mention of her son. Aelin continued, “You would be proud of him—for many reasons.”

“I am incredibly proud of who he has become, but I’m afraid I can’t take much credit for that.” Aelin recognized clearly the guilt and sadness Andelin felt over her son’s upbringing. “Do you know where he is? I need to speak with him.” Aelin grimaced slightly in response.

“It’s rotten timing but Aedion is actually in Adarlan right now fetching my mate for me.” Aelin reached out to grab the other woman’s arm in reassurance. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, though. I will have a suite prepared for the both of you immediately, right near Aedion’s.” These two were family, she would not have them be anywhere else.

A servant was promptly summoned and sent to ready their suite. Another servant was directed to find Lysandra, who arrived minutes later. Similar to Aelin’s reaction, Lysandra first recognized Gavriel and rushed to meet him in an embrace.

Aelin watched her friend closely as she finally took in the woman next to Gavriel. She could see the shifter piece things together and widen her eyes slightly in realization. Lysandra’s gaze flickered over to Aelin and the queen nodded in affirmation.

“I should introduce you to my dear friend, Lady Lysandra Ashryver. She is Aedion’s wife. Lysandra—you have met Gavriel—and this is Andelin Ashryver, Aedion’s mother.”

————

The journey back to Terrasen was too gods-damned long.

It wasn’t even that Rowan was sick of walking for hours on end, day after day—though that was certainly part of it. Rowan needed to get back to his mate. He had so much he needed to tell her. So much had happened that she would need time to process, and he would have to be by her side anchoring her as she did.

Even more, though—selfish as it may be—he just missed her. He had been separated from his love for too long. He ached with the knowledge that the other half of his immortal soul was not beside him. It was a challenge every night to lay down in a cold bed by himself and fall asleep without holding her. It was wrong. Mates were not meant to be apart.

For the past week he had been walking the long road back to his love, and it was awful. There were far too many miles between them. He wanted to forget about his traveling companions and just fly back to her as fast as his wings allowed. Surely they didn’t need him walking beside them—after all, Aedion had travelled all the way to Adarlan without Rowan. Terrasen’s royal caravan was more than enough enough manpower if they found themselves in trouble.

He couldn’t leave Aedion alone with Sam, though. The young Ashryver had not taken to the reborn assassin very well. Aedion had no great love for anyone from Aelin’s time as Celaena, often choosing to avoid that part of his cousin’s past. During the seven days they’d been on the road together, the male had only spoken to Sam a handful of times—each in a gruff and unfriendly manner.

Rowan supposed that might be for the best. He didn’t put it past Aedion to spill the truth about Aelin in some attempt to torment the boy. Needless to say, the unlikely trio travelled in a state of unending tension.

Rowan managed to keep himself as a buffer between the other two most of the time, but it was exhausting him. The Fae wasn’t exactly overjoyed at the presence of Sam either. The two had spent a fair amount of time together back when Rowan was helping Sam in his search, but ever since the young man’s identity was revealed it was awkward for Rowan to be near him. They had never spoken much—and that was certainly fine with Rowan—but the silent walking left Rowan alone with his thoughts, and he was a little uncomfortable with the thoughts he had when he knew Sam Cortland was beside him.

He was especially uncomfortable when he considered the thoughts Sam might be having himself as they travelled.

Sam knew nothing about what Aelin’s life was now. He had no idea she was the Queen of Terrasen, that she was an immortal Fae, that she was mated and married. The Aelin he had last known was Celaena, and Sam was in love with her.

Yes, those thoughts didn’t sit well with Rowan.

The three travelers and their caravan were currently surrounded by dense forest. Rowan didn’t mind too much—it shielded them from the hot sun—but it did mean they were farther from lodging and refreshment. They hadn’t encountered many others on their journey so far, and they hadn’t seen any intelligent life this entire day.

A bush about three feet to Rowan’s right rustled and the Fae turned to watch as a deer bolted away, startled at the sight of them. His hand relaxed from where he’d reached for his sword, taking notice of Aedion beside him doing the same. They might both be protected members of Terrasen’s court, but the warrior’s instinct to defend never went away. Rowan was sure the guards in their caravan had instructions to ensure Rowan’s—and Aedion’s—safety first, but if an attack did happen, the male doubted he’d be able to run for cover while others endangered themselves to protect him.

He and Aelin had similar opinions on that matter. They were powerful, immortal warriors. As the leaders of Terrasen, it was their responsibility to serve and protect their people, not the other way around.

For the first time that day, Rowan spotted what looked to be human figures ahead of them on the path. There were two of them, with hoods over their heads, unmoving on the side of the road. Beneath the cloak of one figure was a pair of high boots, and beneath that of the other Rowan could see full skirts, indicating the pair was likely a male and female.

As their caravan neared the two travelers, Rowan started to detect more details about their appearance. Their cloaks were high-quality and made from an expensive-looking hunter green cloth, not typical attire for two lone wanderers. Anyone of money or status traveled with a caravan, like he and Aedion were.

The pair turned slightly more towards the large group approaching them and the woman called out at the sight of Terrasen’s flag on their uniforms.

“Terrasen! The royal caravan!” The woman nudged the man beside her to draw his attention to them. “Are members of the royal family with you?”

The caravan’s head—Captain Algaard—stopped their advance and addressed the woman.

“We are of Terrasen, yes, and this caravan is transporting important members of the court.” The guard kept his answer vague so as not to reveal too much to a stranger. “What do you want of them?”

“We must speak to Aelin Galathynius. We need to warn her.” That was concerning.

“What must you warn Her Majesty about, traveler?”

“It may be difficult to believe, but my husband and I should not be alive. Someone has tampered with death, Captain, and we need to tell her.” Aedion approached the captain and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“We are alright, Algaard. Two reborns don’t pose much threat to His Majesty or myself. They are just confused.” Aedion then turned to the traveler woman. “Do you need help, kind woman? Are you in need of provisions?” The couple seemed to notice Aedion for the first time. The woman’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Aedion?” The Ashryver male paused in surprise—an emotion Rowan shared—before walking closer to the couple. Rowan could see the moment Aedion realized who the woman was because something in his face crumbled.

“Evalin?” Evalin. Even if Evalin were a common name—which Rowan didn’t believe it was—a closer look at the woman was all he needed to confirm that she was, in fact, Evalin Ashryver Galathynius. This woman, reborn to a body not much older than Aelin’s, was the near twin of his mate. It stirred something deep within the Fae to look at her.

Aelin’s mother was one of the dead brought back by this strange phenomenon. From the woman’s statement earlier of her husband, the man beside Evalin was likely Aelin’s father. These were his mate’s parents, ones she had grieved for years and missed every day.

Rowan snapped out of his thoughts to find Aedion in a firm embrace with Evalin and Rhoe. They didn’t appear to be speaking, but he had a feeling emotions were being communicated in other ways. These two were important to Aedion as well as Aelin. They had been his guardians during his early years.

Rowan felt a little intrusive watching such an intimate moment, so he turned to address the rest of their caravan. They would be adding a few more to their party, it would seem. Evalin had said she needed to speak to Aelin, and Rowan very much agreed.

“These are Her Majesty’s parents, Rhoe and Evalin Galathynius. We will be bringing them with us. They are members of Terrasen’s royal family and should be included in your protection the same as Prince Aedion and I.” The news was understandably shocking to the guards, but they remained serious and registered Rowan’s statement as the order it was. He continued, “Someone prepare them refreshment.” That was enough to set the group moving about.

When the king turned back to the reunited trio, he found them more composed than before. Aedion met his eyes and Rowan took that as his cue to approach.

“I am honored to meet you, Your Highnesses. I am Rowan Whitethorn—“ Rhoe cut him off before he could continue.

“The Fae warrior. I have heard many stories about you, Rowan Whitethorn. I have to say I have always admired your skill—the stuff of my childhood legends—but we have no want for Maeve’s presence in Terrasen. Thank you for helping Aedion, however you may have, but we should make the rest of our journey alone.” Rowan couldn’t help but smile slightly at Rhoe’s words.

“I can assure you, Rhoe Galathynius, that I no longer have any ties to Maeve. My allegiance lies solely with Terrasen and its queen, both of which I would protect with my life. You can rest knowing my particular skills will only be used for you, not against.” Rowan spoke firmly to hopefully convey how serious he was, and he would have continued had Rhoe not butted in yet again.

“You are blood sworn to Maeve, don’t think I am unaware, you have no choice where your allegiances lie.”

“That oath was broken by Maeve herself. I am now bound to Aelin completely, by ties even stronger than blood.” Rowan had to admit, witnessing Rhoe Galathynius’ face as he explained the situation was quite amusing. “As I was about to say before, I am Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, mate and husband of Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen. I will, in fact, be traveling to Terrasen with you. The whole purpose of this caravan is to bring me back to my mate, but we are more than happy to have you join us.”

The wry look Aedion gave Rowan indicated that he had not hid his satisfaction well. How could he blame him, though? It wasn’t every day you got to tell your mate’s resurrected parents that you were soul bound to their daughter.

@rowaelinforeverworld

@flowersinvegas

@aelin-queen-of-terrasen

@camixd93

@lord-douglas-the-third

@montse121296

@dank-queen7

@slytheringalathynius

@rhyswhitethorn

@jesstargaryenqueen

@trilogiesrule

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aqvarius · 4 years

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[WALKTHROUGH + REVIEW] Her Love in the Force: Ayumu Shinonome: S3 Love’s Battlefield + His PoV

Honestly, I think this route is one that I went into almost completely blind. With some other routes (particularly Ishigami’s and Soma’s), I kind of had expectations going in. But with this one, I basically had no idea what was going to happen.

Ayumu’s Love’s Battlefield is another example of how the quality of Her Love in the Force just keeps improving. I have been so impressed by every single route that’s come out this season in particular. It was heartwrenching and frustrating and some things are still unresolved, but I’m excited for the future. Ayumu’s routes have a knack of setting up the premise for the next part so well that I’m just left impatient for the second half of the season.

With the walkthrough, please bear in mind that there is no good-happy ending meter in this route for some reason so I’m not sure if all answers will take you to the Happy Ending, but these are the answers I chose that brought me to the HE.

Walkthrough:

Ep 1: "His sharp tongue." "That's not the plan."

Ep 2: "I miss fried shrimp." "Kaga trusts you."

Ep 3: "Is that sarcasm?" Explain

Ep 4: Stay silent. "I meant it."

Ep 5: "What's your name?" Abstain.

Ep 6: "Move, please." (gives all options) Don't check.

Ep 7: It's Ayumu. Hug him. (one of the potential options is give him the finger? lol?)

Ep 8: "I prefer black tigers." "No thanks."

Ep 9: Don't answer. "It's panties."

I don’t have much else to say in terms of expectations or even as an intro, so click on through to read my thoughts about this route and his PoV, character and relationship development, my analysis on Ayumu and his MC’s dynamic vs her dynamic with Tsugaru, and my screenshot of the GREATEST BACKGROUND that Voltage has ever gifted us. Here, I have basically tried to keep major plot details to a minimum but beware of minor spoilers.

Reality:

Ayumu is the person who had maintained strict boundaries the whole time during her time in the academy, so naturally it makes sense that he’s the one who finds it the hardest to detach from these roles and the dynamics that it causes. This is expressed beautifully in his PoV, which I highly enjoyed and definitely recommend. I’ve been thinking that with this new season in particular, the PoVs don’t cover all the key moments in the MS, but rather they complement them with new scenes that really wonderfully paint a broader picture of these two sides to the relationships. Despite the fact that he doesn’t quite yet know how to break away from these roles, Ayumu’s relationship with his MC changes a lot outside of the Academy. He’s a lot more open about wanting to help her. His hints to her are so obvious that even she gets it. I never imagined we would ever hear our favourite sour patch kid Ayumu straight up say “I’d do whatever it is she wanted if only she’d say something to me”?! Three times over, he practically begs her to open up to him and let him help her, and she’s the one pulling away and keeping secrets this time. I understood why she did it but dear God, I felt so frustrated for Ayumu.

This route is full of super heartwarming scenes where you can feel just how much Ayumu cares about supporting his MC, to the point where he almost breaks rank just to set her up in a good position. Ayumu is someone who, before now, hadn’t yet challenged the bureaucracy of the National Police Agency (unlike Kaga and Soma) and barely even ever goes against the orders of his own boss Kaga, but this route places him in a position where he almost commits insubordination for his MC. I love that we first get to see him deal with things when he acts out in a frustrated way, and then again when he’s calmed down and had a think, and that leads to that scene in the park in episode 7, which is one of my favourite scenes in the whole route. His PoV is (naturally) more enjoyable for seeing his own anxieties and frustrations about the situation. This route reminded me again that Ayumu is totally a one-woman man, and when he falls in love, he falls so hard.

Something that I find interesting and different about this route is thinking about Ayumu’s position now that they are both working in the same division. Ayumu is someone who has spent two whole years watching his MC and setting up the chess board for her behind the scenes so she can make the most of her abilities and execute the perfect checkmate. But now that he doesn’t have the position or ability to set the board up for her, we get to see his frustration at wanting so desperately to help and yet being unable to do anything. At the academy, he had a position of authority as a special instructor. But at HQ, he’s just another lieutenant. Sure, he’s a genius and a specialist unlike anyone else, but ranking-wise, he’s in the same position as Goto or even Kurosawa. That’s something that you also feel with Goto’s route – the inability to affect change in the same way that they could within the setting of the academy. In this new context, Ayumu isn’t like Kaga or Ishigami, who can stand on their own against Tsugaru. Soma too has a higher rank so the issue of power and bureaucracy isn’t something that needs to be explored as much (and also he’s kind of a wild card even within Ishigami’s team and has always done his own thing, including a lot of independent investigations, which is why in his route the main dynamic between Team Tsugaru and Soma is Tsugaru getting Momo and MC to spy on Soma).

I saw a couple of comments about how awful Tsugaru is in this route and one on hand I do think that he is a lot more fun to the MC in other people’s routes (mostly Ishigami’s, then Goto’s, then Kaga’s), but on the other I think that if you hate him here, you’re gonna despise him in his own route. I’ve said it a couple times here and there, but I really feel like the version of Tsugaru in Ayumu’s route is the closest to his true personality. Tsugaru’s own profile calls him the worst boss and the most malicious person. Even Momo calls him 天邪鬼, basically calling him someone who messes with people just for shits and giggles (the term used for a demon who is deliberately contrarian). If you don’t like how little Tsugaru respects the MC in this route, oh boy you are gonna be in for a ride when you see how he treats her in his own. There’s a reason she comes to loathe that smile of his. Weirdly enough, in the Good End, the Tsugaru Squad dynamics seem to get to about the same level as they are in the other routes. There’s even a cute scene in the Good End where Momose actually kind of attempts to console the MC when Misato screams at her, and the Special Story from the Ending Set also shows them interacting in about the same way as they do in other LIs’ routes, with the three of them working as a team. I wish there was more sense of development in terms of building that team relationship (and I will expand on this later too).

I don’t know if any of you have watched Agents of SHIELD but this need-to-know basis (and feeling like there are clearance levels for information) thing gave me severe AoS vibes. At the same time, you do understand why an institution such as Public Safety would need to isolate information, for security purposes. It would be no good to have someone, especially a rash new detective, get caught and tortured and spill all the beans, right? And the thing is, this need-to-know thing is not new to Ayumu’s MC at all. You only have to look at his Sequel and Graduation routes to see her being left in the dark by Ayumu himself in two consecutive seasons. The big difference here is that whenever Ayumu acts, he always keeps her abilities and strengths in mind, with the plan always taking advantage of the things only she can do (such as having an eidetic memory). So she doesn’t need to follow instructions (although he always leaves her clues), but the plan is already designed to work with her usual attack patterns and abilities. With Tsugaru, however, they don’t know each other. She doesn’t know how Tsugaru thinks (nor does anyone except Momo), and while Tsugaru may know what she thinks, he probably sees her as volatile and unpredictable. If she were working under Ayumu in this case, he may have taken into account the fact that his MC might have tried to accost Misato’s assailers in the basement, but Tsugaru (rightfully, tbh) expects people to trust him and follow his orders since he always has a reason for doing the things he does, even when no one (except Momo) understands what they are.

I’ve previously touched on my opinion that Soma is probably the closest OG character to Tsugaru, which I’ll expand on here too. Actually, let me rectify that statement: Tsugaru is probably the most similar to Soma and Kurosawa – I would say his character maybe sits in the middle of their personalities. The common factor here is not just their enigmaticness, but the way they keep a friendly mask on while they use people as tools without remorse while keeping their plans hidden, or only understood by a select few people who get it without words (which is actually similar to how Kaga does things too). This is why he needs a Momo 2.0, to be able to have a similar sense of foresight and understand why they need to enact certain plans. He needs more pawns like Momo, who allow themselves to be used because they understand the bigger picture, even if, on the surface, the steps towards justice seem unethical. And sometimes they really may be unethical, but this is Public Safety so what do you expect lol.

So even though it’s totally legitimate to complain about Tsugaru in this route, it was necessary for him to be like this in order to demonstrate the shifting dynamic between Ayumu/MC and MC/her new superior in a new context. It’s important to note that both Ayumu and Tsugaru start out by giving the MC seemingly inane errands to do. Because she’s gotten used to the idea that all the small, seemingly useless things that Ayumu makes her do are for her own developmental benefit, she expects the same of Tsugaru. But frankly, Tsugaru doesn’t have the time to do stuff like this. He’s a captain, she’s a working detective, and she needs to start being responsible for her own growth, so when she finally gets it into her head that he isn’t going out of his way for her, she becomes despondent first and then insistent on doing things her own way.

What then happens is an obvious lack of trust between senior/junior between Tsugaru and MC. It’s something that we see her gradually develop over her years at the academy, but she hasn’t yet learnt to rely and trust on people other than Shinonome when they aren’t tailoring everything behind the scenes for her benefit because this is what he has always done. It isn’t said explicitly but this is what he (and Kaga and Tsugaru [and Namba lol?]) are talking about in His PoV when they talk about smothering bunnies, especially when they are in a new family. Because Ayumu has always gone above and beyond to pave the way for her to follow her own sense of justice and still have everything work out, she hasn’t yet learnt to develop trust in other people’s senses of foresight and that acting independently according to her own sense of justice isn’t always the right thing to do, especially when the plan isn’t set up for her sake. Ayumu sets everything up for her because that’s the way he shows his care for her as his mentee and then girlfriend (and we LOVE that about him!), but Tsugaru has no reason to do so at all.

The MC in this route was different. To be honest, I got flashbacks to Kaga’s first season routes, especially when she was just gonna pack up and go back to Nagano. It’s quite a different reaction from Ishigami and Soma’s MCs, who just naturally hone in on work and basically become workaholics when faced with adversity and heartbreak. If Ishigami’s MC’s defining trait is being a workaholic, Goto’s is sweetness , Soma’s is actually being able to do her job well without messing up dependence, Kaga’s is insecurity, and Shinonome’s is how chipper she is. Obviously this is an extreme dilution of her character (and I could write a whole piece just on her characterisation) and she embodies all of those traits listed above and more. But more than anyone else, Ayumu’s MC is the most upbeat and stubbornly optimistic, so seeing a more insecure and pessimistic side of her definitely felt different and a bit odd. In the past, even when she’s een down, she continues to just do her job. The reason why she gave me Kaga S1 MC vibes is because of that insecurity and pessimism. Kaga’s MC is someone who was initially prone to giving up because her sense of morals and justice does not align with what Kaga is willing to do for Public Safety. You get a sense of that with Soma’s MC at the beginning as well, but Soma is gentle enough on the surface and just encouraging enough at the right moments that she doesn’t give up. The relationship between Kaga and his MC at the beginning is similar to the relationship between Tsugaru and Ayumu’s MC in this route, since Kaga is also someone who acts on his intuition and expects others to be able to understand him without a single explanation.

In this route, the MC starts to break away from Ayumu’s protection and act on her own. This is well and good, but what I would have liked to see is her starting to be able to work with her team and prove herself as someone who is compatible with them and not just capable as an independent agent. I loved the silly Eiji cameo (with his yamato nadeshiko tshirt, naturally) but I think that sense of development could have been built up a bit more had she been able to work with Momose. And no I am not just saying this because I love the concept of bodyguard Momo lol, but because then we would get to see her demonstrate her individual capabilities and slowly earn Momo’s trust and respect (and by proxy, Tsugaru’s, since Momo is his dog). We know she is more than capable in terms of technique. In the Happy Ending, Tsugaru even acknowledges that he knows that MC’s specialty is hacking without being traced, so I kind of wish that they had let MC prove her abilities individually but also learn how to work in a new team that does things a different way. Essentially, I want her to get to a point where she can adapt to working under difficult people in the same way that Kaga’s MC understands exactly what he needs even if he just says “file”, or know what his strategy is with one clue, or know what she needs to do when he says the word “jailer” a particular way even when he’s pretending to sell her off to a rich millionaire.

(Once I saw the name Mr Hattori I was like.... this is a ninja name... it could only be ONE PERSON)

Personally, I think that in the Happy End scene where MC and Tsugaru are talking, what Tsugaru wanted to hear from MC was an apology not just for acting on her own but for not trusting him and just running off and doing her own thing. A big part of this route was about MC needing to prove the academy’s, Shinonome’s, and her own worth to Tsugaru and I don’t feel like this was necessarily successful, since the one thing she should have been able to demonstrate to earn Tsugaru’s acknowledgement is that she can adapt and make herself useful to him. Anyway, in the next part of the season, I really hope we get to see her begin to learn how to work in a new team. The unity between the three of them that we see in Goto’s route is incredible, and we even see the moments in Goto’s and Soma’s routes where Momo comes to respect her abilities. I think the best way to show off Ayumu’s effect on her life and value as an academy instructor would be to show off the techniques that he specifically taught her in order to help Team Tsugaru and prove her place on their squad as an IT specialist, instead of acting on her own.

On a personal note, I also just really wanted more Momose. We’ve seen in other routes (particularly Soma’s) how kind he actually is and how much he cares. In Soma’s route, he even defies Tsugaru to support you. One of my favourite parts about the SS3 routes is seeing Momo gradually warm up to you. I’ve mentioned the little bit in the Good Ending, but it would have been nice if there were a few more subtle moments like that to show how the MC starts to prove herself to her team.

I don’t want to spoil too much about the plot, so I will say that HLITF always knows how to write a compelling mystery, and I enjoyed that they kept us in suspense even when MC cracked the case so as to preserve the element of surprise. I also enjoyed the last couple chapters as well, and what happens just when you think everything is sorted… Of all of the SS3 routes, Shinonome’s sets up the most clearly not only for his Episode 0, but also for the second half of the season.

I did find the pacing a bit odd and not as tight as Soma’s, Goto’s, or Kaga’s (Ishigami’s was……. Wild……) but it wasn’t too confusing to follow, although I would struggle if I had to draw out a timeline since there are so many small ups and downs that it’s hard to pinpoint a specific narrative structure with clearly defined acts.

Aside from that, there were so many little moments I loved. The dinosaur planetarium date, MC being thirsty for Ayumu so many times (what’s new), MOMOSE IN A VINTAGE ROARING TIGER SUKAJAN AND SUPREME T-SHIRT LIKE THE ABSOLUTE HYPEBEAST HE IS, Ayumu’s desperation during the climax, and that one line where she says “Ow! That hoppity hurts, kids!” Let me know what little details you most enjoyed about the route too!

Edit: Can’t believe I forgot to mention this but that ONE SCENE WHERE HE’S ALL EXHAUSTED LIKE “BUY.... ME.... NECTAR” AND SOMA IS JUST STANDING THERE LIKE “WHAT NECTAR DO YOU WANT ME TO BUY FOR YOU” LMALSDKFSLSFDK LIKE AYUMU JUST ACCIDENTALLY ASKED HIS SUPERIOR TO RUN A PEACH NECTAR ERRAND.

The CGs were stunning too – I have absolutely nothing bad to say about them. The kabedon CG and the Happy Ending CG are my favourites in particular.

The appearance of the RMD doctors is definitely… gratuitous lol but I didn’t mind it. I thought they would at least play a bigger role (with maybe Sen in paediatrics at least). I so desperately wanted MC to acknowledge that Sen seems really similar to Ayumu?! But the appearance of the RMD MC in Ayumu’s PoV was even more gratuitous and I HATED IT LOL!!

I wondered if the translation and coding of this route was maybe a bit of a rush job? Or at least affected by the work from home situation. Firstly, there was no good – happy ending meter, which in one sense was quite nice because I got to read the whole thing in one go and just pick the options I thought would work without worrying about the meter not going up. It reminded me of old school Voltage games. Secondly, in episode 6, there’s an error with the option selection during the CG scene. If you select the first option (“Move, please”), it actually gives you the dialogue for all three options one after the other. Thirdly, in the Happy Ending chapter, after the HE end card goes up, there’s an extra scene which is actually a few slides from the ending of the Good End (re: Naru). I’m not sure if this is an error or just needed to give the context to set up for the second half of the season. In his PoV, they also left in a card from the JP version, which is delightfully, painfully heartwrenching to read but was left untranslated.

In Kaga’s, Ishigami’s and Soma’s routes, my heart hurt for their MCs. But in this route, my heart ached the most for Ayumu. I honestly feel that Ayumu’s Love’s Battlefield gave him more character development than his MC, which… I don’t mind, actually. This route was delightfully frustrating to read, actually made me cry once (but not as much as Ishigami’s or Soma’s; the latter made me have to take a break to sob for a good while), and also really hyped me up for his Love’s Trial route (愛の試練編). The special story in the ending set is WONDERFUL and I would highly recommend getting it if you can (although I’m still mad that we need to purchase these stories instead of getting them as a bonus for unlocking both endings like it used to be in the standalone app). Finally, it gave us this absolute gem of a background. Even if the route had been complete trash, it would have all been okay because of this one background.

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redevenir · 4 years

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maybe our hearts won’t freeze

seungkwan x reader

wc : ~ 2800

a/n : boo seungkwan best boi, I want to give him the best!! please enjoy this vague au as much as I enjoyed writing it. It is certainly flawed, as is everything, but I genuinely like it. As I’ve started to write again recently, feedbacks are very much appreciated.

Like every other day, Seungkwan checks one last time if he has everything: phone, keys, water, food – wait, keys ? On the small kitchen table, like every morning, yet the relief is still strong, like every morning. He casts one last look over his tiny studio, before going outside. He rather be quick, if he wants to avoid the oncoming storm. He buttons up his parka, closes the door – double check – and starts walking in the direction his phone is telling him to follow. His backpack is a bit heavy, which reminds him he really should have seen a specialist before, as the pain in his shoulder may get out of hand soon. As he picks his phone to change the music he realizes his palms are already sweaty, and he tries to keep his cool – what could even go wrong? Nothing. He has played it all in his head hundreds of times. He’s going to your place like you’ve come to his many times before, nothing bad will happen, and then he’ll come home, safe, sound, and happy to have spent his day with you. Maybe, one day, in the far future, he will have the guts to open up to you, loud and proud, but not today. Today is for enjoying your company a bit, officially catching up, but he remains lucid about this one. He already knows how you’ve been – everyone has been the same. You are worried these days, even more than before. You are getting antsy – like so many others, and, honestly, he can’t blame you, the news are getting scarier every day, and since you’ve both started college, the future has gotten darker and darker. Rain begins to fall down his face, so he puts his hood on and walks faster. Like every other day, Seungkwan pretends it doesn’t worry him.

Seungkwan met you in college. You were in his class from day one, and you were in his class four years later. There weren’t many of you to begin with, and each year there were less and less. You had stayed. A few changes of haircut, sometimes a new pair of shoes, but you remained, silent, concerned, steady. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep at night, he remembers when, during your first year, he asked why you chose history of art, and you had answered « What else is there to do? » plain and painful and honest. Seungkwan found out it wasn’t so bad to have you around when he was getting too agitated. And when you dropped out and started to work at a laundry service he kept checking on you, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his cheeks hurt after spending a few hours with you.

The first time he actually talked to you was the first time he got sick, and missed a few days at school, and decided he wanted to ask for your notes before anyone else’s. He didn’t hear his roommate joking about the huge grin on his face when he came home that day. Oh, how he misses Mingyu now. Mingyu, keen-eyed Mingyu, who cooked like a god and had such a good heart. Mingyu was the one noticing you were used to be cold, because you carried around more jumper, more sweaters or more cardigans than anyone else on campus. Nowadays, Seungkwan does it too. After that, he’d always come to you first, someone he deemed trustworthy – and reading your notes had convinced him that you, at least, knew what you were doing.

The second time Mingyu made fun of him because of you was the day you came to their shared apartment to work on some group project – the tall one called it a « study date » but never to your face. He remember how stressed he had been. Repeating himself you were meeting him for studying and studying only. He had to be cool. Be cool. He couldn’t expect too much of it, it was good enough that you had agreed to come over. He had been eyeing you for quite a time at that point, and he had noticed that you didn’t talk to many people in your class, and even then not that much. What was supposed to last only two hours lasted until the notion of time was lost on everyone, as both of you were strongly opposed and wouldn’t let the other get away with their wrong opinion. Seungkwan had lost the argument when, instead of listening to your passionate rambling about Poe, he caught himself staring at you with a fond smile and eyes full of hearts. Only when you had called for his name a few times, a frown on your face, had he come back to his sense. Blushing a bit, he just told you he’d be willing to do as you wanted, as long as you were happy. He had laughed when you had grumbled him being the reasonable one didn’t make him right anyway.

Seungkwan cares, and he worries too, so he tried, every now and then, to reach you. Just a few words, an encouraging smile. And, maybe, he hopes, it softened you a bit. He won’t change the world all by himself, but, maybe, he can make you feel better. Day after day, month after month, he dared come closer and closer to you, a tiny step at a time, afraid that a movement too quick might scare you away. It’s only when he’s standing before your building’s front door that the harsh reality of it all. He shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be there. Most of your comrades have left the city, most of them have fled the country but – but – but you have not. None of you have any other place to be, and, as far as he knows, you seem to think, like he does – maybe, maybe you can endure it. Maybe it will pass too. Or maybe it won’t, but there is nothing he can do about it. One by one, he reads all of the names on the tags, so he can be sure to ring on the right one. He only has to do it once to hear your voice. The speaker makes you sound far away and he has to remember you live on the thirtieth floor which is indeed far above him. The sky is getting darker and he quickly enters, prepared for the endless stairs leading to you.

There is more to Seungkwan than what first meets the eye, you’ve found out. You first thought he would be a timorous boy, books and jumpers in his bag, but he has created his very own type of bravery. He is neither tough nor a fighter. Like a little mouse, when you least expect it, he is back again, checking everything is still in place – double-checking everything – you understand now it is also how he copes. Seungkwan is a world of his own, sustainable and steady, and maybe, if you make yourself small enough, you may find just the right nest between his branches, sheltered from the gusts, close enough to the sun. As soon as your hear the hiss of the kettle you pour the boiling water into two cups. By the time he will be there, it will be at the ideal temperature. In a shiver you barely notice, you put your hands above the cups, longing for the warmth their steam provides. You wonder if it it is your last meal. If he is the last person you will ever see. If any of this is real. You’ve followed the news for years, and you know it is – the skies are another proof, if you needed one. Of course, you know nothing of meteorology, but you assume the state wouldn’t evacuate the entire country if it wasn’t serious. Actually, you were surprised they’d evacuate even considering it was serious. You have been a witness to it all. The streets, empty. Schools closed, more stray dogs, more stray cats. Buildings abandoned. Public services shutting down, TV channels disappearing, less stray dogs, less stray cats… You wonder if it was always meant to be like that, if the year, the month, the day was decided from the beginning, or if something went wrong.

As you wait for him to climb all of the stairs, the ticking of the clock might make you go crazy. Slow, slow, slow. It will never end, you tell yourself. And why do you keep that clock? But he will come, you know it. It is the one thing you know about him, he is consistent. He doesn’t let anyone down, he does as he says, which is a blessing. It is a light afar keeping you in the right path, a bright reminder that there is hope, there is love, there is laughter and there is kindness. Seungkwan is nice, you muse, and even though you have lost most of your hope, you don’t regret inviting him over. Before the blackout you will bask into the sweet light of his starry smile one last time.

It is because of his smile that, when they announced the date of the greatest storm ever recorded, the storm that will probably wipe out most of your civilization, you decided you wanted to spend it with Boo Seungkwan. You hadn’t even thought about him, his face appeared in a flash the second you heard the news, smile loud and proud.

Out of breathe, he finally reaches for your door, which opens as soon as he knocks on it. Sure enough you’re there, a yellow cardigan over your wool jumper, as green as the pine forests he’s visited when he was a kid. As green as the pine forests he’s seen on TV whenever there was a documentary about the northern countries. Whenever he’s tried to learn as much as he could about the life of the population buried in the snow all year long. He is so tired by the long climb, legs aching, chest burning, he doesn’t say a word about your clear lack of taste – yellow and green ? Really? He merely nods appreciatively when you hand him a chair – the chair. He hears you from afar, clearing your throat.

« Well, take your time and, hm, hello? » There is a shadow of a smile on your face, something that was once so common and miraculous, Seungkwan thinks, and now it is rare and he’d damn his soul to see it more. « I made some soup, I think it’s not bad. Do you want a glass of water? » He nods again, everything smells of cilantro here, and it is a small apartment indeed and why are you leaving you are so pretty and oh here you are again with a glass of water !

Seungkwan has entered your apartment for about ten minutes when he hears you shout and swear. He runs to you – the four meters that separate the two of you, in your tiny nest. You’re looking at your right hand like it betrayed you. Noticing him, you point at the stove.

« It’s still hot! »

Seungkwan lets himself breathe out again, and is all over you the second you finish the sentence.

«Oh god, does it hurt? I was so scared it might be something worst! Turn on the tap! Make the cold water run on your hand! Oh! My! How did you do that, there was nothing to do with the stove! Were you trying to get hurt? Can’t you just! Eat! Your! Soup! »

Your lips twist in a conflicted way as you watch him grope about your kitchen in a hurry.

« First of all, don’t lecture me. It’s not like I did something reckless on purpose, I just checked to see if I did turn off the gas, so, please, don’t overreact? »

Even without looking at you, Seungkwan smiles at that. Of course it was reasonable, of course he’s fond of you. He spots the first-aid kit on a lower shelf.

« All right then, but I’m still going to bandage you! Where do you keep your first-aid kit? And keep your hand under the running water! Oh my, I hope your soup is good… ! You should be more careful! » He finally puts his hand on the bandage roll.

« Are you doubting my souping skills? In front of me? In my kitchen? As you’re about to eat the food I cooked for you ? Really, Boo Seungkwan? »

As he turns around to answer you, he finds himself a lot closer to you than he thought.

« Seungkwan ? » His face feels so hot, are his cheeks red yet? Oh, why are you so close, and could you come closer? He considers your face and time stops. Eyes dark and red of countless nights spent looking for the future, skin kissed by the sun. From the pink on your cheekbones he guesses you’ve probably fallen asleep on your balcony a few days ago, when the weather had been so nice. It is your style, isn’t it, to fall asleep on a sunny afternoon, even after all the worries, to feel life on your skin, to wake up anew. From your skin tone, and the look of your hair, Seungkwan knows you use poor hygiene products – but do you even care? The curves of your eyebrows, soft and concerned, and how your eyelashes gently falls on your cheeks whenever you look away. You’re calling his name, but if he looks at your lips he knows he’ll be doomed. It’s only when your hand grab his hand, cold and wet and strong, that he comes back from his daydreaming.

« Is anything wrong? » you ask, and his heart squeezes in his chest.

« No, no, no! Don’t worry, it’s just – his mind races, quick, be quick – I remember there’s nothing to do when you burn yourself, except put it under cold running water, which we’re already doing… It needs to stay in the open, so I feel a bit stupid … » The end is only a guilty whisper, so you press his hand strongly.

« Don’t. You’re not. You have good reflexes, it is nice to know you’ve studied first aid classes diligently. » You smile at him and, really, Seungkwan thinks his heart will explode if you keep doing this to him and he can’t kiss you in return.

The soup is good, at least good enough not to complain, and the both of you last a few hours actively chatting before mentioning the elephant in the room. You have closed all shutters and spread a blanket on the floor to keep you both from the cold. Every time you open your mouth, little clouds escape from it, an airy trail to keep the track of the words you whisper to each other.

You’re siting near Seungkwan’s lying form, knees to your chest, entangled in your sleeping bag, hands on your ears. He’s looking at the ceiling, maybe searching for patterns in the cracks you don’t see. The flashlight casts a poor color on both your faces, and really, you think, it doesn’t do him justice, to hide in the heart of the night. Seungkwan belongs with summer, he’s the feeling of your aching skin when you’ve spent too much time in the sun, imitating lizards on their burning rocks. Seungkwan belongs in gushing gardens, oozing with the music of thousands insects working around flowers. He should not be here, with you, waiting in the skies to freeze to death.

« What will happen to us? »

It is a murmur, a blast in the darkness of the room. You don’t know, you have no answer. Meaning has been taken away from you, is all of this even real? How would you know? You cannot answer to that. Everything you heard on the news sounded fake and yet here it is, the weather is getting colder and colder, and people are evacuating, running south, toward kinder climates. Yet, you did not. You, and Seungkwan, and probably hundreds of others are staying there. Either you’ll freeze to death, or you’ll get to live a harsh life, harsher than ever before. Of course, you can’t say that, because it is not nice, and because the words pounding in your chest are same ones pounding in his. It surely is a disheartening situation, but what else is there now if not your hearts?

You lie down next to him, your face close to his, trying to keep your voice steady, trying to look at him in the eyes, trying to be brave, and to do it right, a weak attempt to answer.

« I have no idea. » You whisper, taking his hand between yours.

Seungkwan holds on to it so hard he may crush your fingers.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan x reader #bsk #my writings

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mrs-denton · 3 years

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Sappy Paul Denton x OC Fanfic [Part 2]

The Start of the Collapse

After Paul’s departure, Bebe’s eyes struggled to shut. She laid in bed and kept glancing over at her phone occasionally, half-expecting something from Paul to come up. When she realized worrying was futile, she put the phone down and laid it down on its charging pad. She was worried, but she tried equilibrating those thoughts with reasonable positive ones because she was pregnant. She had to avoid as much stress as possible.

Staying up to write, as she did on sleepless nights like these, she scribbled her thoughts into her diary until she crashed. In the morning when she awoke, the unwelcome feeling of first trimester morning sickness sharply seized her from her slumber. She went to the bathroom to alleviate herself from the nausea.

Treating patients at the hospital she worked at, including those with the Grey Death, was dreary. Their spirits were broken and some of them got desperate. She wished she could divulge the truth behind the virus, or at least what she knew, but it would likely get her fired. She made sure to wear the most protective gear—respirator, face shield, gloves, a gown, and foot covers. Her health was going to have to become her top priority if she wanted a healthy baby.

Hours ebbed and flowed with moments of hectic excitement during rushes of patients and emergencies, but inched like slugs when things were slow and she caught herself worrying about Paul. She wondered what time it was in Hong Kong—surely, at least half a day ahead—and if he was alive. She thought about JC as well and didn’t want any harm to come to the Dentons, namely because JC was a cool person, but especially because she knew Paul would be devastated if his younger brother should fall. She scrubbed the pressing thoughts away from the walls of her mind—months of meditation had helped—and she continued to show up at work.

She checked her work emails to see if by some crazy chance, Paul had been daring enough to send her a message there. But of course not—he would never do something to endanger them, especially with the Aquinas net. After what felt like a 12-hour shift, Bebe returned home with takeout and quickly checked her computer. There, an email from Paul—or rather, his alias—was sent hours ago while she was still at work.

“Hey babe. I made it safely to Hong Kong, thank god. Good news—everything’s taken care of. My brother and I are gonna be fine. The bad news is that I’ll have to be living here for a few months as I recuperate, as I predicted. I was in pretty bad shape when I arrived, which is why it’s going to take longer for me to recover. Tong wants to keep me under supervision for a while. But I’m already feeling better.

Things are pretty tight in HK. I’m a wanted man here as well. I don’t think making a move right now is wise, but I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll keep you updated whenever I can. Try to take it easy and don’t worry about a thing—I’ll take care of it. I love you, and I’m always thinking about you. - P”

Bebe typed a reply.

“My darling, I’m glad you’re alright. I was worried about you, but I also knew you’d make it through this. Give the doctor my sincerest gratitude—he saved the man I love. I’m also happy J is fine. I completely understand if you need to stay there—in situations like this, a doctor’s supervision is necessary even after the treatment.

Let me know how things go. I want to be with you but things have to be just right. I love you, P. I hope you get better soon. I already miss you. Hugs and kisses. Yours,

- B”

Within the following day, Bebe received another email.

“Bebe—so much is happening right now. I don’t have much time, and neither does the world. Just bear with me. I’m going to be fine, I think, but my brother keeps unearthing more of this conspiracy. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know something will, and if it does, it’s going to be big. I can’t explain everything over the net, but I promise I will when I see you. I don’t know how much time there is and I know this sounds crazy but you’ll just have to trust me. Withdraw your savings now. There’s a high chance the net might crash and everything will be lost. Savings, records, and all sorts of info. Make sure you have plenty of food and supplies as well.

No matter what happens, I will find you! And that’s a promise. Just stay where you are. I love you so much more than you could ever imagine. - P”

Something inside Bebe told her Paul wasn’t lying. Everything Paul told her before and everything they had researched and pieced together made sense. She knew there could only be so much more to this story than most people knew and few had theorized about. After typing her obedient reply, Bebe set off for the bank and asked to withdraw the entirety of her account. Her salary provided her with decent savings she had accumulated over a few years.

But she wondered if the funny look the bank teller gave her was indicative of ignited suspicion. She knew it was. She smiled as the bank teller discussed the request with the manager, who gave her a poorly-disguised look of surprise. Who else but a shady person would just want to remove all their chits from the bank? Only somebody that knew something that most people didn’t know would act this way . . . She would just have to lie and say it was for a potential family emergency. Or that she’s just paranoid and that there are rumors the banks will fail soon. Hearsay type of stuff. But no, the latter would be too suspicious. Just go with the family emergency, she thought.

Signing some papers that would let the federal revenue office know the reason for her massive withdrawal, she questioned just what the hell she was doing. She stopped for a while and glanced up at the bank teller, who was too busy counting chits to notice her. Bebe questioned herself for a bit--she was blindly obeying Paul’s orders, which wasn’t really a problem in and of itself, but how could she really know what was going on? Paul wouldn’t lie to her though. She knew that man for three years and he never lied. She just had to trust him. Worst case scenario, she’d be tracked down. But if nothing were to happen, she could just say she got worried sick for an ailing family member and took the money out to help with treatments.

“Forty-six-thousand, two-hundred and fifty-nine chits, ma’am,” the bank teller said, fat stacks of the electric green notes neatly sitting on the counter.

“Thank you so much,” she said, handing them the signed papers. “Here you go.”

She opened up her purse and filled it with the money, trying to act naturally. The teller and his manager looked at her strangely, as well as the clients behind her. She felt herself tense up.

“Thank you so much,” she said again. “Have a nice day.” She had a habit of being overly-polite sometimes.

And with that, she carried her loaded purse all the way to her car and drove home, the tunes blaring and the pedal to the metal. Suddenly, the music stopped. Could this be it?

She checked her phone and noticed there was no signal anywhere. The music stream was buffering continuously until it lost connectivity for good. Moving to the network settings, she confirmed there really was no net anymore. She couldn’t believe it at first, and then, she did.

Parking her car, she rushed inside the lobby of her apartment building. There were people standing outside with their cellphones in the air, trying to obtain signal, their faces scrunched in bewilderment. Glancing at the far end of two blocks over where one of the P-Mobile buildings was, people swarmed into the store to complain about their phone services.

“Miss, have you heard? The net’s gone black—disappeared,” the alarmed security guard at the reception said. “Everyone’s internet just shut off. Even the phones, TV, everything. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “I’ll have to check mine out. Thank you.”

She went upstairs and rapidly scanned her nanokey to her door, eager to get inside. What would she do now?

She checked her computer. The internet was gone. No new emails from Paul, just the cached one from before. As she sat in her apartment, she heard her neighbors arguing loudly in desperation. Turning on the TV, she checked every channel, finding nothing but static—ultimately confirming everything Paul told her. Glancing outside her window and down at the congested streets, violence intensified.

After a few days to a week of the world descending into darkness, reports of the global net crashing and burning appeared on every newspaper. A national emergency was declared, and speculating specialists wondered who was responsible, pointing fingers at foreign governments and even “traitors” within the United States. The zealously religious stood outside every corner, wailing that it was the beginning of the Apocalypse, and the conspiracy theorists held meetings in their garages, claiming it was aliens. But soon enough, the Dentons were named. Bebe paid close attention.

“It is suspected that terrorist JC Denton and his brother, Paul Denton, are behind this massive communications collapse worldwide. We are slowly but surely receiving letters that confirm the internet shutdowns in every nation. Agencies are investigating the matter as best as they can.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She just hoped the bank tellers didn’t put two and two together and decided to send somebody after her. After all, there was nothing suspicious about a woman withdrawing all her savings a few minutes before the world collapsed. But she sighed in relief when she knew that they wouldn’t have been able to pull up her personal information without the internet.

She thought about her family. Her dad had left them before she was even born, and her mother died of the Grey Death before Ambrosia was released. Her cousins were all living their lives as married people with children, and her only living aunt was old now. What would they think, though? What would they think if she were to run off with a “criminal”, a “terrorist”, a wanted man? Crises were meant to be times where family stuck together more, but with Bebe leaving . . . would they label her as selfish? Crazy? Bad? She only hoped that one day they would understand that Paul was not the person the media and the government was portraying him to be.

They didn’t even know she was pregnant. Engaged? Yes. They knew Paul and they liked him. But the media was a powerful weapon, especially now that the people’s only source of outside knowledge was funneled via the last remaining newspapers. They could twist and besmirch the Dentons as they wished, and people would buy it. Not everybody, though, as there were people who had been following the Juggernaut Collective—until it disbanded—and a few other rebel news disguised as tabloids and conspiracies. But alas, the perceptions of Bebe’s friends and family could definitely be warped against Paul. She had to be careful.

But most importantly, she had to figure out what the next steps in her life would be. If only she could talk to Paul. She wondered if she should keep going to work—part of her would think it better to disappear from society at once and wait until Paul came back, but the other part of her couldn’t just leave all those poor patients behind. She knew there were other doctors and nurses who would do a fine job—but could she really just disappear now? Did she still have to keep up her façade of normalcy? As if she weren’t the woman of the second-most-wanted man in the world right now?

She got up and started packing, hoping that at least sorting this out would bring her more clarity. What were her favorite clothes? What could she stand to leave behind? What would be useful? She took her favorite shoes as well as personal keepsakes and important documents, neatly enclosed in file folders and manilla envelopes, and put them in a suitcase. Most of the money was also stored there. Then, glancing at her desk, she took note of her journal.

How could she leave this behind? She had to take it. Unless, of course, she wanted to be that mysterious woman who left her revealing memoirs in a secret diary. She considered the thought briefly and then took the journal, the pages automatically splitting upon a section with a dried red rose that had been stamped between the weight of the pages. It was the first flower Paul ever gave her. She instantly smiled as she felt the crispy, dark garnet petals on her fingertips, her mind going back to when the petals were bright as fresh blood and smooth like velvet.

#deus ex #fanfiction #paul denton #oc #paul denton x oc #the collapse

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chefjarredjarred · 3 years

Text

Anxiety. (excerpt)

People. “They're the worst,” Jerry once concurred with Elaine. And they are.

So I didn't really want a job as a verification specialist for a background check company, making a hundred phone calls a day to anywhere in the country, but there was a time when it was a job I needed; it was remote so I could do it from my living room, it supplemented my main income from cooking and barbacking, and I was allowed to adjust my own schedule around that other work and my Tuesday morning therapy sessions.

But Jesus Christ, the people: the combative, the confused, the cavalier, the crotchety; the mousy, the crazy, the stupid, the lazy; the disgruntled, the bitter, the hateful, the bossy; the scammers, the liars, the paranoid; the unintelligible, or, through no fault of their own, the foreign; the mouth breathers, the assholes; the fast food workers, who are always a grab bag. I got them all, every day. And just one nice old lady from Florida, Ms. Charlene.

I got the job in part by cherry-picking some of my old chef experience and molding it all up into a wad of passable bullshit in the interview. Not lies, you know, just bullshit. I sold the personal importance of always speaking concisely and effectively, and of remaining cool and courteous and logical even when being angrily berated by the most ignorant, disrespectful know-nothings. Okay, so that one tiny lie. I made no mention of smashing saucers, slinging sheet pans, or every chef's favorite, smiting servers. (But come on, FOH, y'all know when you're asking for it.) I gave no indication that my rage, anxiety, and feelings of undeserved victimhood and exhaustion were a nest of coiled snakes, something every person who has ever worked in a kitchen around me could sense. Do your job, leave the attitude outside the kitchen doors, and speak only of pith and pertinence during service. Don't fuck with me, don't get fanged.

A bartender I worked with for years once called me unapproachable. It was in the same breath that she called me a dick, proving that the robotic personality of feigned professionalism and phony positivity (every company has their Stepford Wives, don't they?) on which she prided herself—loathed by so many in the restaurant—could be cracked, and I loved that I had been the one to do it. But the part about being a dick wasn't a bold quotable. My being unapproachable became a favorite running joke for years, perverted and perpetuated by me. Y'all think I'm unapproachable? I am. Fuck off.

But that's truncated, for effect and time. Fuck off, I have a job to do, is the real, full statement, and a linchpin tenet of my style of cheffing. I don't need loud voices, loud noises, disrespect, emotional clouding, confusion, excuses, etc., or that irritable anxiety snake could be disturbed. “Just the facts, ma'am.” There's just no time for the extraneous.

Don't disrupt the flow of food.

That's the principle I emphasized in the interview, just folded into the bullshit wad that made it applicable to phoning idiotic, ornery strangers—and Ms. Charlene. Obviously, I had to omit the venom, violence, viciousness, the vitriol. There was already a tiny stumble in there when the interviewer asked if I would describe myself as an introvert, and I, being honest to a fault at the most inappropriate moments, confessed that I would.

“You do know what this job is, right?”

I actually didn't, right up until about two seconds before that question, but I recovered gracefully, explaining some crap about being able to turn on the smiles and pleasantries when I meant business, something like that.

Fake smiles. Ugh. God dammit. I actively campaign against them. A fake smile is the opposite of Fuck off, of the pith and pertinence, the order and efficiency I expected, of just the facts. It's a capitulation, a white flag.

You know what I absolutely hate more than people? The expectation that I'm obligated to give them a fake smile. It's a banner that says you're willing to accept the extraneous, the unexpected, that whatever they are about to say and the way they will say it has some compelling power over you, and that you have all the time in the world to stand there and graciously let it be unloaded onto you. That your anxiety is not there and not real.

That you are approachable.

Fake smiles are blood in the water. That's right, when it goes from snakes to sharks.

“What we always say here is 'Smile and dial!'”

It was a virtual interview, and he couldn't see or hear my feet double-kick-drumming the floor. But what he did hear and what I couldn't believe was the fake laugh I forced through my fake smile. Jesus, Jarred, you're escalating? Allowance is support. “Sure, sure,” I said, as if I were a lifelong brown-noser. You're a disgrace.

“If you can run a kitchen, I have no doubt that you can do this.”

I didn't either. That's misinformation, that anxiety is simply fear. I wasn't afraid I would fail (literally anyone, barring anxiety, can be a verification “specialist”). In fact, I was totally confident I could succeed...theoretically. He said it: If I could run a kitchen, I could do this. The things that worried me were the scheduling, sleeping, caffeinating, eating, speaking, putting on my fake personality with my fake smile, and juggling and maintaining it all every day without falter, without letting on that there was any internal difficulty. I worried not about my actual job performance, but how I might struggle to simultaneously perform and hide my character flaws, i.e. the stuff that I left hanging out in the open when I was a chef. Does that make any sense?

Anxiety, not fear.

So the job was simple, but not easy, and there was a lot to make an anxious person anxious: the people, of course; the never-ending flood of calls; the quick navigating of the system when someone backpedaled or said something inaccurate or swung their mood in an instant; the software glitches; the hold music. Every second of the workday, even your coffee-caused poop break, was timed and factored in to your production average. You were judged and graded by making a ton of calls and/or closing as many cases as you could, which sounds fine, but is actually decided by chance more than some mathematical guarantee. That angered me the most, watching my closes and “touches” tabulated throughout the day, working against each other, my percentage of success being stretched thinner and thinner as I piled up calls that became mere touches rather than closes. It was the opposite of what we really wanted, and the secret little opposite of what we were trained to believe. The pessimist in me knew that the given goals were just out of reach, of course, so we would unknowingly meet the real goals and feel worthless at the end of the day, like we hadn't done enough. The realist in me hated the pretending that we had any control over it. The fatalist in me knew that it didn't matter, but could not force the crippled, anxious existentialist in me to just shut the fuck up.

...Oh, there is no optimist in here, if you were waiting for it.

I knew the fatalist was right after a sweet, timid childcare worker put me on hold to find something useful for me, which would only be a different number or a different person or, if life were easy, the name of a recognized third party verification website. This was 10:40 in the morning, in my first hour of the workday that was already a little too unfruitful. I watched the timer tick away, and when she returned, she had found...an unrecognized third party verification website. That meant I had to type a message into our Teams chat to request a supervisor's review and approval to put the name of the website in the little box and move to the next call.

Eight minutes had now passed as I waited for an answer. I had let the worker, Taylor, hang up already so she could get her eyes back on what wild heathens she may have had under her watch. It was a personal rule of mine to never hold restaurant workers or childcare workers hostage on the phone, because their work was more important than mine. I thought about the time my mom came to pick me up from one of these daycare facilities, walking in at the same time as another little boy's father, together to catch the perfect and precise moment that I socked that boy right across his jaw with full force, superhero super-spinning into that punch in defiance of his superior strength and grip of my head as he had tried to slam my skull into a wooden shelf for a second time. We were bloody, snotty, and sweaty in the throes of killer instinct, but I still caught the looks of horror on our parents' faces. Why the fistfight happened, I don't remember, but how? Well, because someone who was supposed to be paying attention, wasn't. Kids will go feral and push the boulder on Piggy as soon as your back is turned. I let Taylor off the phone for that reason. I waited for a supervisor's response in the chat, watching the seconds count on and that first hour, and thus the rest of my day and any hope of average achievement, drift away from me. They told me the site was no good and I needed to call poor Taylor back and try again. I sighed, copied the number and clicked the button, explained to her what was happening, and with real politeness she placed me, again, on hold. She came back with a phone number but the same uncertainty.

But in the chat, a supervisor had offered another phone number, different from what I was now taking down on the call. I was urged to try that one instead, so I let Taylor go back to the children a final time, and made my third phone call of the case. An automated message finally pointed me to a recognized third party verification website, and gave the particular employer code needed to access it. The anxiety snake and the rage snake were waking and knotted. I clicked the Other Automated Method button...and the system skipped on to complete the case, without letting me input the website or the code. “No, hell no.” I backed up and tried again. Same result, the skip. I went back to the chat and explained, and typed “Can someone please help me before my head explodes” with no punctuation.

A supervisor called me, and I shared my screen with her. “Let's see what happ—Oh, the client put it on hold, so just exit. It doesn't matter.”

It doesn't matter.

11:01. One close, 13 touches. I was white hot.

The anxiety, the rage, the pessimism, realism, fatalism, the whole nest of snakes was awake and wiggling, tossing, tangling themselves up like a... Well, you know. Like a rubber-band ball. I violently ripped the headset off of me, pushing breath through my teeth like the snarling little Jarred who punched that stupid kid in the mouth in the daycare brawl. I thought about that famed image of the snake eating its tail, whatever it's called. I thought about quitting. I thought about how two days before, my therapist and I had tried to come up with a suitable and available grounding technique I could try to prevent this exact, inevitable moment, this kind of anxiety attack. I thought about telling her how I thought that I was failing at everything. You're a disappoi— Shut the fuck up, Jarred—

It doesn't matter? I thought about that, that every moment of the day was part of the calculation of my performance grade for something ultimately shrugged off. That I spent 20 fucking minutes wasting my fucking time to get something that doesn't fucking matter but earns for me a judgment as if it does fucking matter.

But I thought about how I needed that little bit of extra money, and the other reasons for seeking and taking the job. Breathe, Jarred.

And that was not an isolated incident. Every day I fought for the energy and will to tether myself with the headset, log in, and hear the first ring. It came immediately, every single morning. I'd close my eyes and siiiigh through that first ring, just before being snatched along and pummeled by the frenzy.

I tried earnestly the smile-and-dial one time. I felt like Nicolas Cage in one of those especially wacky scenes of Face/Off. A total psycho, unhinged.

The calls were recorded and scrutinized, for quality and legality, and a handful a month were sent back to me to review whatever I had done wrong, or what I could do better.

Ah, yes. So there was another itchy, irritating thread of anxiety even on the less violent days.

Do you ever hear your own recorded voice and you hate yourself and wish you had never been born? Yeah, me too. So I only ever listened to one call and that was enough of that. I didn't want to hear myself. That voice wasn't mine, it was some cartoon-like, nasally Billy Bob Thornton's voice, reverberating somewhere way up high in the sinuses.

A hundred calls a day is a lot of talking. I began obsessing over how I pronounce—among many other things—the number four. There were fours everywhere, embedded, like chocolate chips in cookie dough, throughout almost every case number, and in our callback number I had to recite on dozens of voicemails per day. I wondered if I could trust my own ears in hearing the way I would say it, or if in reality I sounded like I was four. Fohwuh. Every day I ran this mental gamut of self-critique and insult, concentrating insanely on the most minute and deliberate flicks and curls of my tongue and lips. Any word becomes weirdly unnatural when you pay such specific attention to it. But I put so much (too much) effort into working on a competent phone voice not only so I wouldn't sound like a jackass, but so I could be efficient in my work and thus keep up with the production quota. I needed 20 touches an hour, not 13, so I needed people to understand me so I could get in, get out, and get on the next call. My strategy was to try and emulate the radio voice of Christopher Kimball—polite, proper, pronounced, professional. In my dirty pajamas, sitting on a lumpy pillow on a hand-me-down office chair as it was clawed to pieces by my screaming cats, I wanted to sound like I was wearing a bow tie. Like I was in a real office without cats, with a real college degree framed proudly on the wall. Polished and prepared.

It's hard work, if you can imagine. I'm not a talker. I don't like strangers. They're unpredictable. Any unexpected wrench in the routine could prove how fragile the facade is, that I'm actually a wobbly stack of quivering, anxious gremlins pretending to be a presentable person in, I guess, an imaginary bow tie.

It's hard work, if you'll let me say that again. But I thought I was doing pretty well. I hadn't cussed anyone out and I hadn't hurled the computer through the window, at least.

Then one day I called an office in Shelby, North Carolina. A woman answered, lazily, and I stated my reason for calling. She just said, “Hold on,” dismissively, with no practiced professionalism whatsoever. There's a lot of that out there. A rare treat then it was when I spoke with anyone trying to exude the same level of maturity as I, during business hours. My Kimball voice was for your benefit, lady. You didn't care. I know this because instead of really putting me on hold, instead of pressing a button to leave me in that telephonic waiting area listening to one of those overused cheap songs, like the one with the incessant MIDI claps that makes my toes tense and my teeth clench and jarringly reminds me that the anxiety is always bang-bang-banging at the door of the closet I locked it in, instead of just conducting two seconds of mundane business like a normal goddamn person, this woman just set the phone down on her desk and, evidently sickened beyond composure, blurted to her coworker, “God, I hate when someone clears their throat while I'm on the phone with them.” I did?

There I was, exposed, a bunch of phlegmy gremlins, collapsing and scrambling. Instantly I remembered the time my dad and stepmom asked me if I was on some kind of drug, because I cleared my throat “a lot.” Yeah, I don't know what they were talking about either, but apparently this involuntary habit is remarkably frequent. And a hundred calls a day I was doing this. How many of these people find me disgusting, inhuman, or think I'm on drugs? How about people in everyday life? Do my friends mock me? Who taught you how to function, Jarred? My mind spiraled, the snakes squirmed and seethed.

The rest of the phone call was stiff and clumsy, tears welling like a porn star's while I silently packed down the coughs and chokes congesting behind whatever ball of bile bottlenecking at the back of my throat, because I should die right on the living room carpet, sacrificial and blue, lest I irk this absolute cuntbag's social sensitivities, gurgling grotesque and oozing disease.

But am I crazy or...ahem...is that just trivially fucking inoffensive? If I had frog squatted on my desk and—“Verify this, bitch!”—farted into a metal basin full of Cracker Barrel gravy, then sure, be mad. Slam the phone down. Say to the guy by the copier, “Why me?!” and vow to get me fired. But if a natural, nonchalant throat-clearing infuriates you enough to comment on it, you're honestly just an asshole. It's not a frog squat gravy fart, it's not a rude personal affront. It's somewhere way below open mouth chewing, there around unfortunate but necessary nose blowing. I'm gross, you're gross, we're all gross. Get over it, and then, Fuck off, I have a job to do.

I did briefly wonder if maybe she's an anxious person too, a gremlin, maybe her facade is as fragile as mine, but I don't think so, because her attitude when she answered my call had already indicated to me that she never dressed up in a fake bow tie. She thinks she's a normal person: reckless, careless, unprofessional. No phone tone, no Kimball timbre. And because of that, she gave me another thing to worry about, to nag at me, something uncontrollable that I'd be trying to temper, something unconsciously mechanical now made noticeable and manual and clumsy. Thanks.

I was just worried about my goofy voice.

If you're thinking that it's all just a little silly and ridiculously minuscule, then congratulations, you're one of those “normal” people, like Ms. Shelby North Carolina. You make our lives worse.

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gins-potter · 4 years

Text

the bars that separate us

the discordix winx club server i’m in is doing a weekly writing prompt so here you go *gestures vaguely*

prompt: we've both been arrested and we're stuck in the same jail cell we won't be bailed out until morning so you might as well tell me your story.

Riven heard her arrival long before he ever caught a glimpse of her. Propped uncomfortably between the humming magical bars and the rough stone of the back wall, he revelled in the complete silence of the Magix City police station he was currently confined to. They must have had a quiet night because he was the only current occupant of the some dozen cells that made up the hallway.

At first he didn’t even recognise the noise for what it was. But eventually they were close enough, and he realised it was the approaching roar of many, many people, and judging by the noise level they were all congregating around the front of the police station. Suddenly the volume ratcheted up another notch, becoming so loud that even in the bowels of the station, Riven began to hear snatches of what had to be the voices of paparazzi and fans.

“- here over here-”

“-what happened tonight-”

“-oh my god-”

“-how will this affect-”

“-what have you got to say for yourself-”

“-love you so much-”

The volume ticked up again for a moment before ceasing altogether, and Riven wondered idly if one of the officers had placed a sound muffling charm on the door.

When they finally did bring her in, Riven had to admit that his first thought was that she certainly didn’t look worth the attention of the screaming paparazzi outside, nor the four officers as well as the captain of the station who were escorting her to the cell adjacent from Riven’s own. She had pretty, delicate features, but wore no makeup and her hair was scraped back into a messy knot. Not to mention she was tiny, having to be near a foot shorter than Riven, and wore only a hoodie zipped haphazardly and baggy, grey sweatpants.

“Got you a bit of star power to keep you company, Ghatrif,” the captain grunted, taking the magically reinforced cuffs off the girl’s wrists.

The girl, who could be no older than Riven himself, scoffed something unintelligible and threw herself down onto a bench that he knew from experience was hard as a rock.

“Did you need anything, Miss Zhensheng?” one of the officers asked eagerly, but the girl ignored him and slumped further down on the bench, propping her sneakered feet up on the bars that separated her cell from Riven’s.

“I’m sure Miss Zhensheng will be fine until the morning when a justice fairy will be available to deal with both of them,” the captain said, his hard glare sliding from the girl to Riven, who silently held his hand up in the universal ‘What? I’m innocent’ gesture.

Another of the officers bit her lip before reaching up to whisper something in the captain’s ear. Immediately his face twisted in annoyance.

“No, you can’t have her autograph. Now go, you’ve got work to do.” He shooed the four officers out, and closed the door firmly behind him, leaving the two of them to each other’s company.

“Quite the fanclub you’ve got there.” Riven couldn’t help the words that slipped out, nor the snide tone that he said them in; his friends were always telling him he had no filter, and that it was probably the reason he was always getting into fights. The way Riven saw it, he won most of the time, so there was hardly a problem.

The girl, who had turned to watch the captain leave with narrowed eyes, abruptly looked back at him, their gazes meeting for the first time. Something, be it her face or her last name, tugged at Riven’s memory but he couldn’t place where he might know her from. Letting any traces of curiosity fade from his expression, he raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to speak.

Rather than say anything however, she merely flipped him off before shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie as she looked away again. The action from the pint sized girl surprised Riven enough that a chuckle escaped him. A muscle in the girl’s jaw popped but still she said nothing.

Since she clearly had no interest in conversing with him, Riven felt no obligation to cease staring at her, deciding to pass the time by pondering on where he might know her from. The school for specialists Riven had attended had been all boys but he didn’t think she’d been a student at the local school for fairies either, he was sure he would have remembered her. Riven wasn’t much for watching television or movies so he didn’t think that’s where he’d seen her, and with the septum ring hooked through her nose and her fierce eyes he didn’t think she was a member of royalty either.

Riven worked as a Guardian for the dimension so it was very possible he’d saved her on one of his adventures - or misadventures as they sometimes turned out to be - but somehow Riven didn’t think it was that either. There was something hard about this girl, a tough exterior that begged for anyone to fuck with her and endure the (probably painful) consequences. He couldn’t imagine her as the kind of damsel in distress he regularly encountered.

Apparently sick of his staring she slowly turned to look at him again, something dangerous in her expression. It only made Riven want to push her further to see what would happen.

“Can I help you?” She spoke slowly, her voice low and husky, wrapping around Riven like an embrace, and as she did he knew instantly where he knew her from.

“You’re that singer. Maia.”

She cocked her head, seeming not to know what to make of him. “Musa,” she finally said.

Riven clicked his fingers, “That’s it.” He dragged his mind back over everything he had ever heard about this girl, Musa. “What would a media darling like you be doing in a place like this?”

His words had the desired effect because she hissed out a breath. It was well known that Musa Zhengsheng was far from a media darling as it were, in fact Riven was sure some well meaning fan out there had documented every run in Musa had ever had with the paparazzi. He was even more sure that that list would be as long if not longer than Riven’s own rap sheet.

Musa bared her teeth in a shark-like smile. “Destruction of property.”

Another shred of information came back to Riven. “Bet your label loved that.”

Musa Zhengsheng had made a very recent, very public, and very controversial split from her record label, and had been only too happy to show her contempt for them in subsequent interviews, accusing them of stifling her creative license. Riven had scoffed and rolled his eyes when his friends had discussed the juicy gossip with clear interest but had secretly followed the story himself. Musa had played a concert the eve of the news breaking, and Riven could still remember shivering as he watched a clip of her spreading her arms and singing unapologetically to 100,000 adoring fans “No one can be just like me any way.”

Watching the clip, Riven had believed her then, and looking into her fierce, dark eyes now, he still believed it.

Sitting in the cell she stared into his eyes unflinchingly. “Good.”

Riven’s lip curled in distaste as he found admiration and irritation running through him in equal parts. There was no doubt she was a force to be reckoned with, but there was also no uncertainty in his mind that the morning would bring an overpaid lawyer and manager to bail Musa out for what would become a night of mere inconvenience and performative rebellion. Riven in the meantime would be left to deal with whatever punishment the justice fairy deemed appropriate for him.

“So, that’s it then? Just a fun way to say fuck you to your old record label.”

Musa surprised him by blinking and looking away first.

“Yeah,” she said, voice sounding thick. “Pretty much.”

Riven jolted in surprise and realisation. “But it’s not, is it? You’re full of it. That’s not why you’re here at all.”

Musa sat up swiftly and pushed up from the bench, pacing around the cell restlessly. “‘Course it is,” she said briskly, refusing to look at him. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”

He scoffed, unwinding his legs so he could stand and approach the bars. “Bullshit.”

Musa turned on her heel and stomped up to the bars. “Fuck you,” she spat, looking livid, and despite her short size, Riven found himself glad for the magic separating them. “Who are you? Some loser who’s probably got a rap sheet a mile long and doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself? Who are you to judge me or think you know me? You don’t even know me.”

“I know that after tonight you’ll go back to jet setting around with your rich friends, not a care in the universe, raking in the money with that pretty, little voice of yours.”

“You don’t even know me,” Musa said again, but this time Riven swore he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

She turned her back on him but didn’t move away, instead sliding down the magical bars until she was sitting on the hard ground. Riven watched her do it, not feeling quite so badass, nor so justified in his anger, before sinking to the ground as well, propping his back against the bars. The floor was cold but Musa’s back was warm against his, a fact that he tried to ignore.

“My best friend’s fiance died a month ago,” Musa said bluntly, breaking their impasse. Riven blinked and turned his head to try and catch a glimpse of her face, but she remained looking forward. “I had weeks left of my tour and I felt like the worst friend in the world that I couldn’t be with her through it all. I only had a few concerts left so I asked if we could reschedule them so I could come home early. But my fucking label wouldn’t have it, thought it would make them look bad. Well, I hope they look downright shitty now.”

“Please tell me the destruction of property charge was for smashing up their offices.”

Riven couldn’t see her face, but he thought maybe she was smiling as she said, “Nah, my revenge on them was not letting them make money off me anymore. I was up for contract renewal with them and they actually had the balls to send a first draft over. I ripped it up, danced on the pieces, then set them on fire.”

Riven couldn’t help but grin at the mental image. Then he realised something. “So if it wasn’t their property you destroyed, then who…”

“I finally got home tonight, and went straight to my friend’s place. I had to get her out of there, it was too full of memories of the two of them, but of course there was a million fucking people waiting outside. I can handle it when they come for me, but my family? My friends? Fuck that shit. So when one of those bastards shoved his camera in her face and asked how she was coping with her fiance’s death, I fucking lost it. I- well, let’s just say that camera is not going to be taking pictures anymore.”

“Good. Lowlife deserved it.”

“Maybe. But now my friend has to spend another night without me.”

“You’re a good friend, Musa, and she’ll know that.”

She didn’t answer for a beat, and when she did, all she said was, “So, what’d they get you for?”

Riven heard it for the clear attempt to change the subject that it was, and didn’t push her anymore. Instead he sighed, staring across his cell as he tried to figure out how to tell the story without coming across as totally lame. “B&E.”

“Oh yeah?” Musa asked, still sounding morose. “Get anything good.”

“No,” Riven said glumly, then sighed again. “My best friend, we came up in foster care together for a while before she was adopted out. The only thing she has left of her birth family is this necklace. When she broke up with her asshole ex she left most of her stuff behind at his place because she just wanted to get away from him. He gave back some of it, but the fucker knew how much that necklace meant to her and he’s been holding it over her head ever since, trying to get her to get back with him.”

Musa made a disgusted sound low in her throat. “Psycho.”

“Basically. She tells him there’s no way it’s gonna happen, she’s met someone new, nice guy, and she’s finally happy, so of course he decides he’s not handing it over then.”

“So, you thought you could break in there and steal it back for her.”

Despite himself, Riven smiled. “Something like that. And failed miserably. It’s uh-” he coughed uncomfortably. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that, I was rusty.”

“Still pretty noble though. I’m sure your friend appreciates the effort.”

“Nah, she’ll probably smack me over the head when I get out of here, and call me an idiot for good measure.”

Musa gave a surprised cackle of laughter. “I think I’d like this girl.”

Riven chuckled. “Probably. She’d like you too, probably more than she likes me.”

He felt a finger poke his side, and he glanced over his shoulder to find that Musa had scooted around and was looking at him.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I said you were a loser who didn’t care about anyone else.”

“That’s alright, I told you that you were a stuck up rich girl with no problems.”

“Truce?” Musa asked, sticking her hand through the bars.

Riven took it and shook, enjoying the flare of warmth at the feeling of her skin on his. “Truce.”

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