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spookyboywhump · 4 years ago

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Alright Andrew. His whumpee. Didn’t think I’d get it finished but here we are

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, starvation, sleep deprivation, “it” as a pronoun, Young whumpee (18)

***

Rae gripped the edge of the table he was sitting on, blinking tiredly as he looked around the examination room. He felt as though he were swaying, as though the room were tilting, and he focused all his energy into staying upright. He looked up when a man entered the room, he assumed this was the doctor his owner had told him about, he seemed pretty upset about having to bring him. Rae would have to make up for that later, he realized.

“Alright- your owner didn’t actually tell me what’s wrong,” He started, “So I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I Uh, I passed out…” He murmured, reaching up and rubbing his eyes. “I think I hit my head…”

“You did.” The man said bluntly, and he reached his hand up, realizing there was blood dried on his forehead. He winced as another pang of hunger hit him, wrapping his arms around his middle and doubling over. The doctor sighed, as though he already knew the issue. “When was the last time you ate?” He asked, and Rae whimpered.

“Um… I don’t… know…” He said softly.

“And the last time you slept?”

“When I passed out-“

“Before that.” He sighed again.

“It was… a day ago maybe…?” He really didn’t know, his days often blurred together. His face was heating up, he didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed over this. It was only what his owner wanted, and what Mr. Harfield wanted was more important than anything else. At least, he was pretty sure that was the case.

He sat there and tiredly watched the man, trying not to fall asleep again. Apparently the only real injury was to his head, and he thought that maybe coming all the way here was an overreaction on his owner’s part. At the same time though, it did make him happy to know he cared enough to do this. He stayed as still as he could when his hair was pushed back, the man cleaning the blood off his face for him.

“The only thing really wrong is that your owner needs to take better care of you.” He said, and Rae frowned, leaning away.

“He- he takes good care of me, sir, I promise…” He murmured. “He brought me here, be-because he’s worried, and wants- he wants me to be okay…”

“I’m sure he does.” He said, not sounding sure at all. He asked Rae to stay still while he finished checking him over, shining a light in his eyes and asking him questions that he couldn’t quite make sense of. By the end of it he just wanted to go home, even more withdrawn than he was when Mr. Harfield had brought him in. The man was giving him an odd look, as though trying to figure something out, before asking, “I just need to know- how old are you?”

“Twenty.” He blurted out, the question catching him off guard. He wondered if this was a test from his owner, he’d been told time and time again, “If anybody asks, you’re twenty years old”. He didn’t understand what it mattered, but the doctor didn’t seem satisfied with his answer, something that made him nervous. “I’m twenty years old…”

“No you’re not.” He said, even further confusing Rae. He couldn’t think clearly enough for this, anxiously glancing around the room. He didn’t know if insisting he was would get him in trouble for lying, but he also didn’t know if Mr. Harfield would punish him for telling the truth. The man seemed to guess what he was worried about, because he said, “You’re allowed to tell me the truth. He doesn’t have to know.”

“...Promise…?”

“I promise.”

“I-I… um, I’m eighteen…” He murmured, immediately freezing up when he saw a flash of anger across the man’s face. It passed quickly though, and he watched him push his glasses up, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course you are. Okay- stay here, I’m going to go speak to your owner-“

“Wait!” He cried, his eyes wide. He practically fell off the table, falling to his knees in front of him, the man quickly stepping back. “No, no y-you- you promised, please, d-don’t tell him, I-“

“Hey, hey calm down,” He said, kneeling down with him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, though Rae flinched away at the initial movement, “I’m not going to tell him what you said, I told you, I promised.” He said. “I just need to talk to him about your condition- you’re not in trouble, I swear.” He told him, and Rae took a shaky deep breath, trying to calm down.

“O-okay- okay, right, I’m, I’m not in trouble…”

“You’re not, you’ve been nothing but good for me. Just wait here.” He told him, getting to his feet, and Rae watched him leave from his spot on the floor, struggling to calm down after the initial panic. He was fine, he wasn’t in trouble, he was good. He hoped the man meant it.

***

He couldn’t send the boy back with that man. Not right away, he didn’t trust him to give him the treatment he needed, if he could just get his strength up he may feel more comfortable sending him back, but for now, he didn’t.

The blood dried on his forehead wasn’t the only injury he had, there were bandages around one of his arms and fresh and faded bruises on his face, his neck, and likely more of him. He was pale, he was clearly thin and underweight, and the dark circles under his eyes were nearly indistinguishable from bruises. He couldn’t save him, but he could at least let him rest, even if only for a night.

His owner hadn’t seemed too concerned when he brought him in, even now he just looked irritated as he fidgeted with his phone, waiting for an update. He looked up when Andrew came into the room, his eyebrows raised.

“Is it okay?” He asked.

“He needs to stay overnight.” He told him, unphased by the blatant dehumanization of the kid. “I just need to observe him a little while longer, is that okay?” He hated having to ask for permission from any of these people, but he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He sighed, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll come get it in the morning, we’ll discuss payment then.” He said, getting to his feet. “Let me know if it gives you any trouble, I’ll handle it.”

“Right.” He said, glad to get him out of there so quickly. He waited until the man had left before returning to Rae, who was still kneeling on the floor. He felt bad for not telling him he could get up before he’d left. “Alright kid, you’re going to stay here for tonight, just so I can make sure you’re alright.” He told him, and Rae nodded slowly.

“W-where is- Uh, Mr. Harfield…?”

“He’s left already. He knows you’re doing alright, and he’ll be back in the morning. If you’ll come with me, you can stay in a somewhat more comfortable room for the night.” He told him, and the boy shakily got to his feet, Andrew quickly grabbed him and kept him steady. Once he got him settled he would get him something to eat and some water, and then let him rest. It wouldn’t fix him completely, but it would at least help.

***

The boy somehow looked even younger when he was asleep, though Andrew thought that he may have been overthinking it. He couldn’t help it though, he looked so sick, and fragile, and though he didn’t look anything like him and his demeanor was so different, he reminded him of another eighteen year old, who spent far too much of his life in a similar situation.

He didn’t actually know what happened to Zander. He didn’t know what happened to Cain, even. What he knew was that he answered to Nicholas Fairfax now, and he didn’t care for that very much. He knew what to do if Cain was still there, he knew that Cain would be outraged to know this kid was here. He would support him, even help him to do something about this, but Nicholas was different, he reminded him of Cain’s father far too much for him to trust his opinion on this. There was certainly a better way to do this, but he knew that no matter what, he had to get this kid out of here.

He’d spent a lot of time thinking it over, almost distracted as he checked on his few other patients, the ones who had lost recent fights. For nearly ten years now he’d kept the specific details of his job from his wife, and he couldn’t imagine her reacting well if he brought in this strange kid, beat up and wearing a collar, and didn’t give an explanation. He could always lie, but he hated lying to her as it was, and he knew how these victims were, Rae would behave too strangely to go without an explanation. He always thought he’d take this to his grave, or at the very least, have a better plan for telling her. He didn’t like the idea of it being so last minute, but he didn’t like the idea of letting Rae go home to that man even more. He thought about his daughter, and if it was anyone other than Rae he may have been more hesitant to do this, but he didn’t believe he would’ve been capable of hurting anybody, much less a child. He’d keep an eye on them, keep them separated, rhis was only a temporary solution after all.

This is ridiculous, you can’t save him, He told himself, getting more anxious the more he thought about the idea. It wasn’t his job to save anybody from this, it was his job to keep them alive. He didn’t have any authority over these people, or their “dogs”. Once again he found himself wishing he could talk to Cain, he’d be able to do something about this, or at least he’d let Andrew do something about it. He wondered if he could get anywhere with Nicholas, but the thought of going through that process right now, he didn’t have the time, he either did something tonight while he was still there, or he let somebody else send the boy home in the morning, after he’d already returned home from being there all night long.

He came back to check on the kid later that night, he was curled up, fast asleep. He wondered how long he could even survive with that man, who was so careless he didn’t even bother to feed him. He remembered thinking about how Zander probably wouldn’t even last a year, and somehow he’d made it at least seven years. Seven years he’d survived, but seven years, maybe more, he’d lost to this place, to this kind of torment. He didn’t know what kind of irreparable damage that could do to somebody, even somebody as strong as Zander was. This kid was no Zander, he was small, timid, he had no fight in him, and when he pictured how this would turn out for him, well, it wasn’t good, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it again, to keep his mouth shut and look the other way and let him spend what could very well be the last years of his life in absolute hell.

Just before he got off his shift in the early hours of the morning, he woke Rae up, helping the disoriented boy out of bed. He was still weak, but he could fix that over time, he was going to fix things this time the way he should have before.

“Come on, kid,” He said gently, unsure if this would even register with him, “I’m going to get you out of here.” At that his eyes widened, and though Andrew prepared for him to struggle or protest, he simply slowly nodded his head, both of them understanding the simple fact he was not going back to his owner.

***

Tag List: @starnight-whump

#my writing #my oc’s #Andrew #Rae #pet whump #pet /rescue/#dehumanization #alrighty this will be fun

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masterweaverx · 4 years ago

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Pit Stop

"So you hear about that Ruby transmission?"

Cinnamon chuckled. "It's all anybody's talking about," she said as she handed a plate to him. "We only get spotty transmission out here, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but... still." The customer laughed a little awkwardly. "Atlas being under attack, magic being real, this... Salem person... It's a lot."

Cinnamon nodded, looking around the pub. It wasn't anything too fancy, they were just a village after all, but it was an informal gathering spot for both the villagers themselves and travelers just passing through. Some tables had people clustered around them, while others had but a single customer apiece; it wouldn't have been anything unusual if it weren't for the hushed murmurings and occasional glances northward.

"Well, it's only been about a day, right?" Cinnamon reassured the man. "They're probably still holding out up there."

"...right." The man took his fork and began poking at the food in front of him.

Cinnamon sighed, heading back behind the counter. It was a slow day... which, given what that Ruby girl had said, was only to be expected. The casual vibe of the pub didn't really gel with the tension in the air; even the stress drinkers had just dropped by, bought a bottle or two, and walked out. She could see some of her customers eyeing the kegs.

Just scrub the glasses, she told herself. Scrub the glasses and look calm and relaxed. She wasn't a huntress, but damned if she didn't know the importance of image in keeping negativity down...

They'd get updates, eventually. Probably from some force heading up from Vale. Or... maybe, if things were really horrible, from some Atlesian refugees. No matter what, it would take a few days.

She couldn't help worrying, of course, who wouldn't be worried, but it wasn't like she could make time move faster. It had only been a day, after all.

There was a strange sound from outside, an oddly growling hiss. For a moment Cinnamon gripped her cleaning rag tighter. There would have been shouts from the lookouts if Grimm were approaching, right? Unless they'd been so rattled by the transmission that they forgot to--

--no. Even with that message, they wouldn't have abandoned their posts. They didn't during the fall of Beacon, after all.

"Somebody's just messing with burn Dust," she suggested casually, to nobody in particular. "Probably just a few teens... hopped up on bravery and wanting to go fight monsters in Atlas, you know?"

There were a few chuckles, but they were strained. The sort that were made by obligation--

One of the customers, leaning to peer out a window, jumped back with a yelp. "It's--! There's a Grimm woman!" he gasped. "It's gotta be Salem!"

Another customer rolled her eyes with a nervous chuckle. "Okay, you've probably had a bit too much to drink--"

Twinkli-linki-link...

Cinnamon looked at the door as it swung open, and her breath caught in her throat. The figure that practically glided in was breathtaking, in the same way a Sea Feilong was; tall, elegant, pristine, and as clearly capable of slaughter as any Grimm she could name. Her black dress, lined with red, certainly made her look like one; it was a resemblance only furthered by her bone-white hair and skin. Purplish veins crawled up her arms and under her sleeves, reemerging round her neck to frame a pair of dark eyes--utterly black, save for the rings of red that ross from their shadowy depths.

One hand was wrapped around an ornate golden staff, which was capped with a blue gem. The other, bearing a ring that resembled nothing so much as a beetle, gestured around the room surprisingly gently.

"I see you have a table available."

It took Cinnamon a couple of seconds to process that. She looked to see that, yes, there was an empty table--there were quite a few, in fact. "Ah... so I do," she replied, voice quavering.

"I believe we will take it. If you would be so kind...?"

Cinnamon put down her glass, quickly reemerging from the bar. "Right this way, ma'am," she said automatically.

The tall woman walked past her, and only then did Cinnamon register the second woman following behind her. The gold-embroidered black garb she wore was short but elegant, much like the hair covering her eyepatch. In fact, she almost looked like a freshly graduated huntress; if it weren't for the fact her left arm consisted of Grimm flesh and the way her amber eye produced literal fire, Cinnamon wouldn't have any idea why she'd be smugly trailing after the bone-white woman.

She shared a nervous look with one of the customers, flicking her eyes toward the door. The man's eyes widened, and he nodded subtly, casually walking out as the new pair seated themselves.

"...So." Cinnamon said, forcing her fear out of her voice. "What will it be?"

"Oh, nothing too much," the pale woman assured her. "A small meal will suffice."

The younger woman frowned for a moment, but nodded. "Perhaps... do you have fish and chips?" she asked.

Cinnamon almost said no, out of habit, but cut herself off. "We... have a salmon soup," she offered hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the other customers quietly filing out.

"Hmm." The younger woman shakes her head. "I'd prefer something more... solid."

"Would a chicken sandwich do the trick?" Cinnamon offered.

The younger woman nodded. "I think it would, actually."

"And..." Cinnamon turned to the beautiful violation of all she had ever thought she'd known. "What will it be for you, ma'am?"

The Grimm woman smiled wryly. "I don't suppose you serve the souls of the innocent here."

"No ma'am. Innocence is a rare commodity these days."

The younger woman actually smirked at that. "Isn't it though."

"Well... perhaps I shall have the salmon soup," the woman offered.

"Of course." Cinnamon took a quick look around the pub; it was almost empty now, save for one horrified customer staring at the scene. She turned back to the pair. "It might be a minute."

"We have all the time in the world."

Cinnamon nodded, heading around the bar. "Get out of here," she hissed to the last customer as she passed.

"You're just serving them--?"

"The longer they're here the longer you have to get to Vale, now move!"

The customer blinked twice, before her eyes widened. She vacated her table with haste, rushing out the door.

"I'm beginning to think the locals don't like us," the younger woman noted calmly.

Shit.

"Ah, it's nothing too much," Cinnamon assured her as she went behind the counter. "Just a bit nervous about celebrities visiting our little village."

"Celebrities?"

Cinnamon very carefully put the pot of soup on the stove, stirring it slowly. "You didn't catch the transmission?"

"Ah," said the bone-white woman. "So, Ruby Rose's message did reach the outside world."

"Whole world, if I heard right." Cinnamon set aside a plate, carefully putting together a sandwich.

"Wait, what transmission?" The young woman looked from Cinnamon to the other. "Was that what Penny was doing with Amity?"

"It was," the bone-white woman replied. "If I recall, you were unconscious at the time."

The younger woman stiffened... and then bowed her head. "I... yes, master. I made an error in judgment."

"Mmm..." The bone-white woman put a hand on her shoulder. "Not all lessons can be taught gently, Cinder."

Cinnamon checked the soup, subtly activating the recording function on her scroll. "So, yeah. What happened after that anyway?"

The bone-white woman gave her a coy smile. "Now, why do you ask that?"

"I'm just a small village chef," Cinnamon replied, pouring the soup into a bowl. "Can't help but be curious about the outside world."

The younger woman--Cinder--examined her Grimm nails. "It was a very busy day in Atlas, honestly."

Cinnamon assembled the sandwich, taking the bowl and plate out to her customers. "I guess it'd have to be. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I suppose I wouldn't mind a glass of wine," the bone-white woman allowed.

"Just water for me," Cinder added.

"Of course." Cinnamon prepared the drinks, surreptitiously looking out the window. Entire families were loading up tightly in the delivery trucks, rolling out through the gates--

"Is something going on out there?"

"Farmers headed out to bale hay," Cinnamon lied smoothly. "Big deal for us small-town folk."

Cinder gave her a look as she put the glasses down. Cinnamon shrugged, retreating behind the counter.

For a minute or two, the only sounds came from Cinder and the other woman quietly eating. She could see how much Cinder savored every bite. And... the other one, she did seem to enjoy the wine, if the way her eyebrow quirked was anything to go by.

"...Three questions."

Cinnamon looked up, keeping a mask of calm even as her heart pounded.

"You have been an excellent host," the bone-white woman continued, "and you reek of fear. So. Three questions."

"Ah." Cinnamon glanced at her hidden scroll, still recording the entire conversation. "How's Atlas doing, you reckon?"

"Oh, it's flooded," Cinder replied casually. "Entire city."

Cinnamon blinked at her, almost opening her mouth--but, no, three questions. Atlas, flooded... well, it was a floating rock, for one. How could they get water up there? Even with a magic rainstorm... no, it didn't make sense. A city in the sky couldn't...

...unless...

Cinnamon swallowed carefully. "I see... what happened to the survivors?"

Cinder frowned, biting into her sandwich aggressively.

"Apparently miss Rose came up with a scheme to get them all to Vacuo," the bone-white woman replied, sipping at her soup. "Which, of course, means I'll be meeting them again fairly soon."

Her smile was far too soft for such a threat. It almost looked motherly, in a way.

Cinnamon felt her heart beating. She glanced out the window again. She couldn't see anybody.

"...How am I going to die?"

The bone-white woman turned to her, then. "Now that is certainly an interesting question. Especially as I don't have an answer. What do you think, Cinder?"

Cinder finished her sandwich, taking a long draft from her glass.

"I think she has options," she said eventually. "We could lock her in this building, weld the doors shut so she can't escape with the rest of her village. I could burn her to death, or freeze her. You could summon any number of Grimm, or even use magic."

"We might do nothing at all," the other woman mused. "Let nature take its course."

"...we could take her with us," Cinder offered. "Hazel was our primary chef, before... well, before."

The bone-white woman quirked a brow. "And how would we carry her?"

Cinder glanced at the staff. "We're not using that for anything right now. An airship would be easy."

The bone-white woman considered this. Cinnamon felt her hands trembling.

"...I will prepare the airship," the woman finally said, standing up. "You will help our new... associate gather what she needs."

Cinnamon flinched as Cinder stood up, quickly ending the recording and sending it out on broadcast. "I, uh, I'm... it might take me a few tries to get your food like you like it--"

The bone-white woman smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry. I have all the time in the world."

#RWBY #Fanfiction #One Shot #Pit Stop #Salem #Cinder Fall

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hisunshiine · 4 years ago

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Escape ✈︎ Chapter 16

✈︎ chapter 16: House Of Cards | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

✈︎ genre: angst, smut

✈︎ word count: 6.8k words

✈︎ pairing: Yoongi x YN

✈︎ warnings: pretty angsty: JK is still MIA, NJ is in leader mode, JK and Vanessa are both dealing with the drama, anger, yelling, some negative self-talk, alcohol consumption, no angst between the sexual pairing, explicit smut ft. marking, teasing, clothed grinding/humping, fingering, oral (f receiving), ‘outdoor’ sex (tent), unprotected sex, spanking, begging, multiple orgasms, creampie

✈︎ summary: A culmination of the previous events leaves everyone feeling unsteady, like a house made of cards.

"Then it's settled," Namjoon finally sighs after the back and forth, and nobody can tell if it’s from relief or frustration, "we’ll go with your plan Sejin-Hyung. We’ve all come to an agreement and we feel this will be the best decision. When everything is ready, email us the details. We have a resident here that is great with photography and cinematography. We will have her get good pics of the island, and we will make some short videos. Edit them as you see fit, but we need to handle this immediately."

"We’ll release the statement that's already prepared. Taehyung, have you taken any pictures of the island, the buildings, or the landscape?"

The urgency in Manager Sejin's voice was clear, yet Tae took his time answering.

"Sejin-Hyung, why ask questions you know the answers to? I’ll choose pictures that are suitable for the initial statement release and get them emailed to you right away."

"Well, then that is all I need from you guys today. Namjoon, get your resident on those pictures and videos right away, we will need those to get the island teaser content together. Bang PD is being notified right now, and I'm sure he will have no problem with the idea. I will follow-up with you in 24 hours."

After the call ended, everyone sat there for a minute, processing the turn of events.

"Talia, Voyeur, and I will go find the photographer, we’ll get her started on her tasks right away." Jimin stood up to exit the room, motioning for the 2 women to follow him.

"Don't worry about it,” Yoongi chimed in, “I'll find her. I'm pretty sure I know exactly where she is."

"Are you sure Yoongi-Hyung? We don't have anything else planned for the day."

"What we need you three to do is go and keep an eye on Stefany … ugh, just saying her name leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Plus, I once told her of a great place to catch the sun rising perfectly on the horizon. I am in desperate need of a drink, I will stop to see if she is by the pool, if not I know exactly where she is.”

Yoongi gets up and exits the room, with everyone else slowly following suit.

"Namjoon, I'm worried about Kook, nobody has seen him since earlier. I feel like this is my fault, I should've known better." Vanessa can't hold back the tears that begin streaming down her cheeks.

"No, don't you dare blame yourself. She almost ruined everything we have here, you and Jungkook can't help what you feel. It could have been any of us that she caught, she just happened to be in close proximity to you.” Namjoon’s voice takes on a soothing tone as he tries his best to console Vanessa.

“Look, don't worry, I sent Dahlia to look for him, they're friends. What he needs right now is a friend. Jimin and Taehyung have things they need to take care of but you need to go get some rest. You look exhausted; could you do that for me? Please? I need my Deputy Mayor video ready, okay?"

"I'm not sure about rest, but I'll definitely invest myself in work. I have emails to catch up on and I need to update the website, advising that there will be a new announcement soon. So, if anybody needs me, I'll be in my office."

Vanessa wipes her wet cheeks dry with her shirt and exits the room, heading down the hallway towards her work space. Namjoon looks like he wants to beg her to rest instead, but he knows all too well that he would be a hypocrite to ask that of her.

Thoughts of guilt and shame continue to ruminate in Vanessa’s mind, fueling her urge to work and distract her mind with thoughts of something else.

After a quick drink at the Tiki Bar, Yoongi drives the golf cart to the far side of the island, the side with the best view of the sunrise on the horizon in the early mornings. He knows this because he has gone there himself before the sunrise to cast his fishing pole, not necessarily to fish, but to just get some peace.

As he makes his way over a small hill, reaching the top, he sees you. He knew you’d be there, after all he was the one who told you about this secluded patch of beach. You already have a tent pitched for your overnight stay, and a small campfire burning dimly a few feet away on the beach.

He stops the golf cart so you won't hear his approach; he doesn't want to ruin your moment. Camera up against your face, he watches you peering through the lens, wind blowing your hair around as you take shots from the sky, down to the horizon.

As he gets closer, he clears his throat after you remove the camera from your face.

"Yoongi!" You shriek, startled at his presence, "I didn't hear you drive up, you surprised me!"

"We need you. I know you wanted to stay here overnight, so you could catch the perfect horizon. It's just that-"

"I saw the notifications… Are JK and Vanessa in trouble? I mean, it was a blurry pic, but we know who it is.” You rub the back of your neck, mussing the strings of your tied bathing suit. “Who would she do that? I reported and had my moots report every time they saw it on their TL. Yoongi? Are you going to say something?"

"I just… I just never noticed how soft your features were until right now. Aish, what am I saying, they're not in trouble, Sejin-Hyung is handling it, the island will become a part-time resort, some other stuff, suing the bitch who did this, some other boring stuff…"

His voice trails off as you begin to take pictures of him, his back against the setting sun just beyond the tree line.

You have never seen him like this with you, all soft and vulnerable; you are used to him just mixing the drinks and grunting as he passes them off. The most he has ever said to you was when he told you about this area, how perfect it was if you really wanted to capture and film the perfect sunrise.

You take a chance and get closer with the camera, capturing his face from different angles, noticing the smoothness of his skin, how soft his features are up close. Once done, you lower the device and let it rest against your abdomen, hanging by the lanyard it's attached to.

His beautiful, dark eyes stare down at you, causing your heart to beat out of your chest; on your tiptoes you press your lips against his, definitely not expecting him to respond.

You feel one of his large hands come to rest on the small of your back, gently pulling you against him. His tongue slipped from his mouth and between your lips, which you parted for him without hesitation.

A small moan leaves your throat into his mouth, provoking a deep growl to return back into yours. With his free hand, his fingers twiddle through your hair, his palm coming to rest on the back of your head. Breathing heavily, the kisses are getting harder, lips swelling, hearts pounding, you stop to take a breath.

“Let me put this camera in the tent,” you say as you clear your throat.

You don't look back, hoping he will just follow you. As you unzip the tent and bend down to crawl in, you easily find the camera bag, removing the lens and gently placing each part into it. You never heard him crawl in or zip the front shut, only the feel of his hand gently moving your hair from your neck and his soft lips kissing you gently let you know that he’s joined you.

The warmth of his tongue makes your whole body quiver, he sucks on your neck aggressively leaving marks and you don't mind. His hands tug at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, until once again his mouth explores your skin.

He makes his way around, coming face to face with you, licking then biting his lip, smiling a cocky little smirk. You untie your bikini top, letting your breasts bounce free. He quickly grabs them and latches onto one of your perky nipples. He gently coaxes you to lay down on your back, sliding between your thighs, grinding against your core as he kisses and sucks on your sensitive skin.

Sweat begins to bead up on his forehead, so he removes his shirt while you push his shorts down by the waistband. He finishes, leaving only his boxer briefs, his hard cock nearly busting through the material.

His mouth trails kisses down to the strings on your bikini bottom and using his teeth he pulls at the string on one side until it comes undone. He makes his way to the other string, untying it with his teeth.

His fingers play along your entrance, sliding between your lips and into your wet pussy, as his tongue licks and flicks at your clit until he takes it into his mouth. Sucking and flicking at your clit, he’s fingering you with a steady pace, working your spot to help you climax faster.

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Yoo—Yoongi I—I’m cumming!” He fingers you faster applying pressure to your g-spot as you cum hard, coating his fingers with your slick.

After the last shiver and shudder, he removes his fingers slowly, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good.”

He pulls his boxer briefs down and his cock springs out and to attention. You grab the head and rub circles with your thumb until the pre-cum coats the velvety tip. He starts to lower himself and you stop him at your entrance.

“I actually prefer doggystyle and maybe if you could pull my hair and smack my ass? It would be appreciated.”

He smiles that gummy smile.

“A woman who knows what she likes, just my type.”

You roll onto your stomach, get on your knees, lifting your ass into the air and arching your back. He smacks his hard cock against your wet lips a few times before he slowly slides it in, inch by girthy inch until he bottoms out.

“Fuck, it’s been a while, I’m gonna take it slow.”

He starts stroking slow and steady, gently pulling your hair while lightly slapping your ass.

“Harder!” you demand.

He thrusts his hips harder and faster, pounding deep, smacking your ass and leaving a print. He pulls your hair harder, making your eyes water. You moan louder with every stroke, moans becoming screams of joy.

His moans are deep, almost like a growl, just as you imagined. His strokes become erratic, until he pulls out and cums a little on your pussy lips. He’s still unforgivably hard, and he takes his hand and strokes himself, spreading more of your wetness along the shaft of his cock. He gives your ass another good smack.

“Turn over, I want to watch that beautiful face while you cum.”

You lay on your back again, spreading your legs wide, he lowers himself down until his cock reaches your pussy, teasing you with just the head. Popping it in and out, until you beg him to put it in.

He lowers himself to his knees, as he slides himself into your wet walls. He begins stroking slowly, pulling your legs together and pushing your knees to your chest. He rubs your clit with his thumb as he strokes rhythmically until he feels your walls gripping his cock.

Leaning forward he strokes faster and harder, kissing your legs, until he slides his way between them to kiss you. His soft lips press against yours, his tongue slipping out to part them, your mouth opens for his tongue to explore.

He moans into you, as he thrusts harder and deeper, lifting himself to look into your eyes. The moment is surreal, the world around you seems serene. His beautiful skin, his soft features, and all you can do is grab your camera bag.

You click pictures with your digital camera, catching the beaded sweat rolling down his forehead, dripping from his eyebrows. When he throws his head back, the sweat glistens on his neck, making the shot of his adam's apple that much more detailed.

Just at the thought of looking back at these pictures to masturbate to, you cum for the second time all over his cock.

“Yoongi, fuck me harder, I want to cum again with you.”

He begins thrusting in and out, harder, faster, spreading your legs as wide as he can so he is able to fill you with his whole cock.

With a low growl and moan, “I’m cumming.” he penetrates deep within your walls, before you feel the throbbing of his cock, and then the heat of his cum filling you. When he finishes, he strokes a few times, his cum leaking out around him, down between your cheeks and onto the sleeping bag.

He lays on you for a moment, kissing your neck, showing his appreciation for giving yourself to him. He finally rolls off you, onto his back, still catching his breath.

“Babe, we, uh, well.. we need you back tonight; we have pictures and videos that need to be made and I don’t trust anyone else to capture the pure beauty of this island like you. Can you do that for us?” Yoongi’s voice is ever so soft. “I promise I’ll bring you back here and we’ll spend the whole night so you’re able to catch the perfect sun on the horizon shot. Deal?”

With eyebrows raised and lips poked out, he looks at you. Who could resist that pouty face he’s making. You put your camera back in the bag and agree. You grab a towel out of your overnight bag and you wipe him clean and he returns the favor.

“We can head to the MOTS:7, since everyone else is fanned out around the island, getting things prepared for you. We can take a shower and freshen up, then head to the Wings house to get an update from Vanessa on exactly what the vision is.”

You both get dressed and head to his golf cart; as you approach, you hear Namjoon’s voice crackle through the walkie-talkie.

“Yoongi-hyung? Hello? Are you hearing me?” Yoongi grabs the walkie.

“Uh, yeah, what’s up Joon?”

“Why haven’t you answered my texts? Did you find her? We’ve been waiting for over an hour for you.”

You can hear the panic and frustration in his voice, so you grab the walkie gently from Yoongi.

“I’m here Joon, ahem, I meant Namjoon sir, what is it that you need me to do?”

“I’m sure Yoongi explained that we need you for photos… First, we need you to come to the newly built house, The Most Beautiful Moment In Life. I feel like the paint colors and everything give off the best vibe, plus that will give us time to showcase the houses we are offering before we furnish them, gives that build-up effect. Second, thank you in advance, because I may forget to say it later with everything that is going on.”

“Of course Namjoon, I’ll just freshen up, I have been out here on the beach all day. Give me 45 minutes, max. Thank you for the opportunity.”

You hand Yoongi the walkie and get in the golf cart, heading to MOTS:7 to get that shower you were promised, then you’ll do your part to help fix this mess that she started.

“Okay, so I think a few more shots of the front entryway, with Jimin and Taehyung like they are welcoming people in... That should be enough for now. We got the video shots we needed. I just really wish Jungkook was here to be in the photos and videos.”

Namjoon is frustrated that Jungkook didn’t want to come to the photo shoot, but he understands why. Dahlia radioed in when she found him, sharing that he told her to tell them that he just needed his space. Namjoon just hopes that people don’t notice Jungkook is missing from the teaser videos and pictures, though chances of that are unlikely. Namjoon hopes Jungkook will be in the next round of pictures and videos that go out. The plan is to identify the teaser video as a GCF, that way, worst comes to worse, fans will assume that Jungkook was behind the camera, filming parts of it. The camera girl already said she was okay with that, having told Yoongi she understood the situation and the need to label it so vaguely.

“Joon-hyung, have you seen Vanessa? She’s usually front and center for these events? This is literally her forte, she knows exactly how to put things together.”

“Tae, last we talked, I told her to rest, but she refused. She said she would be in her office working to clear her head, so best guess would be to check there first.”

“Thank you hyung, I’ll walk over there and check on her. Jimin, I will meet you and Talia at the Tiki bar in a bit.”

“We understand Taehyungie, we will see you in a bit then.”

Jimin and Talia head out of the house with Yoongi, the camera girl he kept calling “Babe”, and a couple other residents that participated in the photoshoot.

As Taehyung walks up to the Main House, he notices against the dark night the only light visible is coming from Vanessa’s office. He sighed, knowing that convincing her to leave her work and have a drink may be a hard task, but he can be quite persuasive.

Knocking softly on her office door, he doesn’t wait for a reply before speaking gently so as not to startle her.

“Nessa? It’s Tae, are you busy?”

She barely looks up from her laptop.

“Yes Tae, did you need something?” She waves a piece of paper in the air in his direction. “I have the list of supplies printed up, and if you need me to, I can go with you to the mainland.”

She hadn’t looked up from her cell phone screen she had hidden behind her laptop and didn't notice that he was standing behind her.

“Nessa, are you playing BTS UNO?! Come down to the tiki bar and have a drink instead; sitting in here alone will do you no good.”

She expels an annoyed sigh.

“What if Jungkook comes here looking for me? I just-- I want to make sure he’s okay before I do anything else, I mean,” she takes a shaky breath to steady the waver in her voice, “I literally feel like I can’t do anything other than worry until I know he is okay.”

She looks up at him, and he can see the tears glossing up her big brown eyes.

“Nessa, you didn’t hear? Dahlia found him a while back and talked with him a bit; he said he just needed some space to think-” Vanessa cuts Tae off, a look of shock forming on her face morphing into hurt as she speaks.

“So where is Dahlia? She hasn’t returned since she left earlier-- So what? He can confide in her but not me?”

“It’s not like that, Vanessa. He may have not text anyone back, but he did text Jimin and I in our group text. He feels guilty, like he should have held back and waited, instead of trying something in the house with new arrivals.”

“He said that?” The tears begin to stream down her face. “It’s not his fault, and it’s not mine either. It’s hers, fucking Stefany, and I can’t wait to rid the island of her presence. Let me get her airline tickets, send a quick email to the boat captain for tomorrow morning, and then we can head to the Tiki bar for drinks. Can you give me about 10 minutes?”

“Of course, Ness.”

Tae waits patiently for her to finish her tasks, sitting across her desk texting Dahlia to tell her to convince Kook to come back to the Tiki bar, before texting Jimin that they will be there shortly.

~Earlier That Day~

Riding along in the golf cart, Dahlia already knows exactly where Jungkook will be. She’s glad that Namjoon asked her to find him; her friendship has grown a lot with Vanessa and Jungkook since the “earring incident” in the back room of the main house.

Dahlia often helped out around the main house, running errands for the Mayor and Deputy-Mayor. She enjoyed it alot. She loved that Vanessa was so dominant on the island, always taking the lead to help out with different ideas the citizens had for the island and wanted to join in with her enthusiasm to help make the island a great place for all the newcomers. Dahlia volunteered to work in the main house because of her.

Dahlia was one of the creators of the island idea, a part of the group chat of the original 7 girls who started the GoFundMe page. So she had known Vanessa and the other girls for some time in the chat, and that was where she first became friends with her. After being on the island, that friendship only grew.

“Dahlia, can you help me and Koo?“

Vanessa’s voice called from down the hall and Dahlia got up from her desk in the main area to go towards the backroom. When she entered, she saw Vanessa bent over, on her knees, her head insanely close to Jungkook’s crotch.

“Um, you sure you need my help?” Dahlia asked.

“Ha. Ha. My earring got caught on his pants, and no, I had dropped my phone when we were sitting here and when I bent to grab it, I got stuck. But his fingers aren’t as nimble as one would think, and since you have smaller hands, I figured you would be able to detach me without ripping off my ear.”

Dahlia laughed, secretly happy that they weren’t back here enjoying a sexcapade. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“But why are you in a blow job position then?”

Jungkook threw his head back in laughter, raising his hand to high-five Dahlia.

“She said because sitting bent over on the bed hurt her back too much and laying her cheek on my thigh while kneeling was an easier one. Probably because baby girl’s gotten used to it.”

Vanessa ignored his comment, though Dahlia watched as she appeared to squeeze her legs tighter together when Jungkook talked. Dahlia couldn’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s brazen words.

“Please, Dahl-baby, my knees are starting to hurt. I prefer to be on my back with my knees spread, thank you very much.” Vanessa said, pinching Jungkook’s thigh.

Dahlia smiled at the nickname Vanessa called her often from the group chat and went over to see if she could help. Kneeling down, she got close to Vanessa and Jungkook’s crotch in order to see her ear in between her head and Jungkook’s thigh. Once free, Vanessa sat up on her knees and threw her arms around Dahlia’s neck, capturing her in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much Dahl-baby.” She sighed into Dahlia’s neck as Dahlia returned the hug. Jungkook then pulled Vanessa up and shooed her out of the back room towards her office with a few soft pats on her bottom and a reminder to text him once she finished that to-do list for Namjoon. Dahlia turned to Jungkook.

“Wanna go grab something to drink?”

“Sure!”

That was the start of her friendship growing with Jungkook. That day he told her about the lookout point, and how he enjoys going there in the early morning and evenings when he needs time to clear his head.

She finally arrives at the lookout point, in the distance she can see the illumination of what appears to be a cell phone, and most definitely the silhouette of Kook sitting on the edge of the cliff. Parking the golf cart, she walks the last 50 or so yards over to the cliff’s edge.

She sits next to him, giving him time to decide when he’s ready to talk.

“Dahlia,” he takes a deep breath in and then just hands her his phone. “Look at all of the theories people have made about that picture. ‘Hashtag-JK-And-Slut’ is fucking trending right now.”

He goes silent again, lolling his head back, looking up into the night sky.

“Kook, why are you even paying attention to this? Fuck what they’re saying, the girls are already working on trending other hashtags; why haven’t you responded to anyone’s texts? Everybody is worried, I mean I was, but not so much because I knew exactly where you would go.”

“But the damage is done, Dahlia, and once again I am the center of another fucking scandal that I could have avoided.”

“Kook, had you not run off, you’d know that Manager Sejin already has a plan. Have you checked your email? Of course you didn’t. You can be so stubborn and it’s frustrating.”

Dahlia opens the email shoving the phone into Jungkook’s face, he pushes the phone away laughing, and then snatches it from her hand to read the email.

“You can be really annoying,” he teases.

“Likewise, Kook.”

While he reads the email, she gets up and goes to the golf cart, and radios Joon to let him know she found him and he just needs some space. After walking back over, she gives him time to read and respond to the email, and check his messages which he only responds to Namjoon and a group text labeled “Maknaes”. Checking her own phone, she gets a text from Tae asking her to convince Kook to come to the Tiki Bar, she replies that she’ll try her best, but he doesn’t seem like he will be easily persuaded right now.

“On a serious note Kook, why did you just run away like that? You really worried everyone, especially Vanessa.”

“I guess... I’m just angry at myself. I-It’s always me, right? And here I am in this situation, again. I almost let myself get caught, am I that careless? This could have been bad for all of us if Manager Sejin hadn’t prepared for me to fuck up.. It’s always my fault.”

“Kook, you can’t go blaming yourself for the ignorance of others. Regardless of what you and Nessa were or were not about to do, that newbie knew the terms of the NDA and took pictures of you two. She knew even just telling anybody you were here was a violation. She’s a stupid fucking bitch and she’ll be gone tomorrow.”

Jungkook chews at his nail beds; Dahlia senses his nervousness and she rubs his back to try and calm him.

“What if.. I don’t know, I'm worried that nobody will believe the ‘resort’ idea? What if this comes back to bite me in the ass? What if she gets back to the US and keeps talking about it?”

“Kook, you are definitely overthinking things. Maybe we should head back, go to MOTS:7 and have some drinks at the tiki bar. You need to get your mind off of things, and since Voyeur feels just as guilty, she volunteered to stay at the Main House and share the back room with that traitor until she leaves tomorrow.” Kook, I promise nobody is mad at you, Jimin and Tae are worried sick about you. So? What do you say?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, sighs a deep breath, then smacks his lips.

“Fuck it, let’s go drink!”

Dahlia giggles; she is glad she could help him get out of this funk and hopefully Vanessa will be happier once he returns, and everything can start to go back to normal

While everyone else is trying to forget about what almost destroyed their island getaway, Namjoon has just received an email that the attorneys are ready to address Stefany. He calls Voyeur and relays the email update to her, asking her to take Stefany back to the Wings house to grab all of her belongings.

“I’m going to pick her up and head to the BigHit satellite office for her meeting; once it’s done I’ll bring her to the Main House, so if you can head there at some point, I’ll pass her off to you again.”

Once he hangs up, he finishes up his response to the attorney’s email before heading out to the golf cart. It’s not long before he arrives at the Wings house to collect her and drives to the satellite office. It was quiet on the way there, but once he’s parked and climbing out of the golf cart, Stefany makes another attempt to apologize.

“Namjoon, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear any more of your apologies. Who are you to decide what we do and don’t want, or like?” Namjoon’s frustration pours from his mouth in that calm but stern, authoritative manner he takes on when he is in the role of the Leader of BTS.

“How do you know we don’t enjoy the Noonas writing and thirsting about us? You’ve been here for what? A few hours? You know nothing. Stop acting like you’re sorry, when you’re only sorry you were caught.” Her eyes are wide as she watches the jaw clenching Daddy Joon appear, and not in a good way. “You have sealed your fate, as well as that of the ones who shared it and slandered Jungkook’s name. They will be sued as well. Now I have said everything I need to, other than goodbye and I hope that you will learn from this experience.”

She grabs her bags and follows Namjoon up to the entrance of the BigHit satellite office. They both walk in silence to the conference room.

Upon entering the conference room, Joon sets up the video chat to be projected on the large screen. He sends a text to Manager Sejin, playing on his phone and ignoring Stefany as he waits for the call to come in.

After a couple of minutes the video call starts and Namjoon sits back while the attorneys lead the meeting with Stefany, where they disclose to her that a civil suit has been written up to be submitted to her local clerk of courts for the photo she took and sent via Twitter Direct Messages to her group chat, as well as the messages she had sent detailing intimate information of the people on Bangtania Island.

“We will be suing you for punitive damages, for violating the terms of the NDA, as well as defamation of character and slander, and asking for a sum of no less than $100,000, as this whole situation you have created will cost us much more. How you pay that will be decided in court. Do you understand this penalty?”

Tears streaming down her face, she utters a pitiful “yes sirs” without looking into the camera.

“Yes sirs?” Namjoon scoffs under his breath. He can’t be bothered to feel sad for her, not when he was worrying about the youngest group member and how her actions had hurt him and their Deputy Mayor.

“We will be submitting our claim to your county clerk within the next few days, once the court date is set you will receive a notice for the hearing. If you do not show up, you will automatically be found guilty and the case closed, meaning all the claims made will be approved for you to comply with. So, for now, we are going to conclude this call, and we will see you in court.”

Stefany buries her face in her hands.

“Namjoon,” the attorney sitting in the middle of the three on the screen addresses him, “when you have escorted her back to her lodging, we’d like to talk more so we can discuss the plan further.”

Manager Sejin ends the video call from his end after that, and Namjoon gets up silently, leading Stefany out of the satellite office. He shoots a message to Voyeur, asking her to meet them at the Main House to watch over Stefany until she is off the island for good.

Upon their arrival, Voyeur was waiting for them on the front porch, relaxing in one of the wicker rocking chairs.

“That was fast, everything went okay?” she said in lue of greeting as Namjoon climbed up the few porch steps.

“Just as planned. I assume that Vanessa already arranged for her flight tomorrow?”

“I’m pretty sure Vanessa and Tae will be escorting her all the way to the airport, as they volunteered. I think they want to see for themselves when she boards the plane and disappears.” Voyeur says the last part in a whisper as Stefany walks past them into the house.

“Well then, it looks like everything is settled. I have to be going, I need to speak with Sejin-hyung and then I have another important appointment. Thank you for babysitting, Voyeur.”

He gives her a quick hug of appreciation, and turns to walk away without even a last glance at Stefany, who is standing in the doorway, knowing that he never wanted to hear her name or see her face ever again.

Taehyung manages to remain calm on the trip to the mainland, despite having to be around Stefany. His facial expression is set in his typical Resting Bitch Face and he sits with his arms crossed over his chest. Vanessa sits next to him, separating him from Stefany, who has the decency to look sheepish as if she is actually sorry for her behaviors. All of the residents, including the guys, have all agreed that no matter how apologetic she pretends to be, they know she feels she did the right thing deep down. She really believes she was protecting them, especially Jungkook, from “older” sexual predators.

The entire boat ride was completely silent, aside from the sound of the water splashing against the hull, the sound of the motor that didn’t seem to be moving the boat fast enough for Vanessa or Tae, and Jimin’s voice crackling over the radio to add other items he realized they needed to purchase.

“Finally!” Tae expressed with relief. He really doesn’t care if she hears him; what she did was unforgivable.

“Tae, let’s control our emotions, at least until after she’s at the airport through security and we are sure she’s gone,” Vanessa whispers into his ear.

He nodded in agreement, but to show Stefany that he was a much more decent human being than her, he unloaded her luggage from the boat. Vanessa had called for a car before they had departed and now they were just waiting for it’s arrival.

“Stefany, I took the liberty of printing up everything the attorneys sent over for you. Make sure you read over everything, and be aware that this is also included under the NDA. I’m sorry that you feel something wrong was being done; everybody is entitled to their opinion, but I just want you to know that you could have ruined not only Jungkook’s career, but BTS’s as a whole. I really hope that one day you realize the mistake you made and remember to live and let live.”

She handed her the yellow folder filled with the documents that needed to be signed and mailed to the attorneys, and nobody spoke again until long after the car had arrived, dropped them off at the airport, and Stefany made it through the airport security, heading to her airline's waiting area.

The mood of the trip shifted slightly once the pair was able to exit the airport. Tae’s face relaxed and he made small jokes to try and get Vanessa to also lighten up a bit. They took a car into the city to load up on all of the supplies they needed, stopping at the post office to grab the mail that had piled up since their last trip, before returning back to the dock.

“Hey, there’s a note saying he went to grab an early dinner and he’ll be back around 5.”

Taehyung saunters back down the dock towards Vanessa and grabs the small wagon they grabbed at the marina office to lug the items they had brought down the wooden pier to the boat. Once the items were loaded, Tae turns to Vanessa, one last final attempt to get her to be a little more cheerful.

“Let’s go check out the marketplace?”

The port side marketplace is located right next to the marina opening, and Taehyung leads the way through the small crowd of midday shoppers, eyeing the different stalls. He takes an immediate interest in the handmade jewelry made by the local vendors and decides to purchase items for each of his brothers, as well as all of the residents on the island.

“Ness, choose something you like!” He leans down to look at the sparkling gemstones in the different pieces scattered on the table. “I think that everyone could use something to brighten up their spirits, and I am thinking we are in desperate need of another island wide party, what do you say Van-”

An all to familiar sound causes him to stop mid sentence as he begins looking around erratically. Some of the jewelry items he had grasped in his large hand fall to the table below in his haste. His motions don’t go unmissed by Vanessa, who sounds fearful when she speaks.

“Tae? What is it?”

He says nothing, just hands her the items as he takes a step away from her, peering over the heads of the locals. His silence is causing Vanessa to panic, so she quickly pays for the items he has chosen and grabs his arm, turning him so he is facing her. He looks into her eyes with a panic stricken face, causing her to freak out even more.

“Tae, what the fuck is going on? Please tell me, you’re freaking me out.”

She tries to remain calm, but he can hear the panic in her voice.

“I don’t mean to scare you, and I need you to remain calm when I tell you this. Okay?”

She nods her head eagerly, pleading with her eyes for reassurance that they are safe.

“I think we were followed from the airport by paparazzi. Just hear me out, I think they have been walking past and taking pictures, I know what a multi-shot lens camera sounds like, trust me. We need to calmly walk to the boat; the captain just walked past and looks ready to start up the boat. If I’m wrong, then nobody will follow us down there, but if I’m right we will have to make a mad dash for the boat to avoid any more photos being taken. Got it?”

She quickly nods, discreetly looking around and not seeing anyone with a camera, and they calmly walk back without noticing anyone following. They climb aboard and wait for the captain and his helper to finish untying the boat from the wooden post it was docked too, and after what felt like an eternity, the boat finally makes its way to open waters.

As the harborside market lights grew smaller, Tae and Vanessa let out a sigh of relief, then start laughing hysterically.

“That stupid bitch has us so wound up! I definitely agree with you that we should have a huge party when we get back! Good thing Jimin said to get more liquor, he must have the same idea in mind!”

“He definitely does, you can already see the beach from here, lit up like it’s trying to signal the man on the moon!”

Vanessa and Tae are finally able to relax as they get closer to the Bangtania docks, making small talk the more the island comes into view. The laughter they shared seemed to pull Vanessa out of her mood and Tae was glad to see her smiling again.

Finally arriving back, Jimin, Talia, Jungkook, and Dahlia meet them at the dock to help unload all the items. With their helping hands, as well as the golf carts to get around, it doesn’t take long to deliver and unload everything at their respective locations and head over to the beach to enjoy the party that seems like it will last all night.

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nobody-knose--archive · 4 years ago

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i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut

-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago

-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday

-neil cicierega real person momence

-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here

-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson

-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that

-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me

-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times

-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album

-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil

-seesaw effect

-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on

-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange

-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like

-"this part sounds pretty cool right"

-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that

-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on

-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time

-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!

-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know

-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro

(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)

-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.

-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised

-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright

-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway

-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation

-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest

-good god that does only make it worse neil

-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever

-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget

-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this

-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one

-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud

-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that

-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop

-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now

-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above

-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.

-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3

-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3

-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that

-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon

-jirls

-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man

-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album

-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care

-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time

-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way

-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird

-iron my life?

-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up

-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least

-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)

-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder

-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega

-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3

-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean

-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about

-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president

-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon

-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album

-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better

-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil

-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it

-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely

-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience

-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.

-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work

-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)

-spinch

-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil

-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!

#lemon demon #spirit phone #pretty sure this is my first bit of spirit phone content on my blog. hi greater lem dem fandom nice to see y'all. go listen to deporitaz #loolin liveblogs #i enjoyed this less for the content the commentary contained & more for the way i handled it. more pleasant than some times ive had #tis i #i havent listened to spirit phone in general in ages. i know why. so this was nice #to the world and back again

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holdin-out-for-a-hero · 4 years ago

Text

Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch.13/?

A/n: Sorry it’s late again. I feel like a broken record saying there will be weekly updates and not delivering. Not gonna lie, I’ve been going through it™️ this year, but this series has been my escape. Thanks for the patience

You figured you would find her here, but the sight still made your breath catch in your throat. She rarely let her guard down like this. She often put on an act, always there to help others with their problems but never sharing her own. Seeing her this vulnerable meant something was really wrong- and of course it was. Cloud was an old friend. The only piece left of a burned-down hometown. And now he was gone.

Her shoulders shook slightly, you noticed. She must've been crying, which made your job much harder. You had came in to tell her the carriage was waiting, but it seemed like the carriage would have to wait a little longer. It felt wrong to delay or pause Tifa's grieving process just to help you get your ass out of trouble, but she did volunteer and no matter how hard you tried to talk her out of it, she always stood her ground.

You took a quiet step closer, and then another, and another, until you were just a foot away from her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, you smoothed a piece of her hair behind her back. She jumped the slightest bit, but didn't turn. She knew she had been caught; there was no use in hiding it.

"The carriage is here," you said. You hoped it didn't come off as insensitive, but there really was no time. Her eyes traced the sheets a moment more.

"I think I messed up my makeup," Tifa whispered, ashamed. She turned to you but didn't make eye contact, instead focusing on your necklace. Her eyes were red and watery, and just like she said, there was a small trail of black under each eye.

"I can fix it," you reassured, "But are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to."

She finally looked into your eyes, wiping her tears away and plastering on a smile.

"You can't talk me out of this."

You led her to the bathroom, taking some tissue and cleaning up the black smudges from under her eyes. Thank God she wasn't wearing foundation or else the whole thing would've been ruined.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think I was gonna cry..." she said, "I shouldn't have come in here in the first place. It was a bad call..."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Tifa. It hasn't even been a day since it happ-" you stopped yourself. It was best not to remind her.

She didn't reply. Instead, she seemed to get stuck in her own head, torturing herself with memories new and old.

"Tifa," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She stayed in her trance a moment more.

"Huh?" She finally turned to look at you.

"Don't do that to yourself."

"...You're right."

She looked herself over in the mirror, examining her eyes to see if you had fixed the smudged mascara. To her relief, the makeup left no remnants; it looked as though it had never been messed up. The redness had started to fade away, but whether or not anyone would notice was another issue. There was no time for it anyway.

"Are you two ready?" A muffled voice asked from behind the door. It was Biggs.

"Almost done!" You replied. Then you looked back at Tifa, silently waiting for her confirmation.

She let out a held breath, "let's go."

You opened the door of the apartment, meeting eyes with the three people standing just outside it. Jessie stood to the far left, leaning on to the railing with her side to help support her weight: her leg was still hurting her a little, so it was best to stay off of it. Biggs was in the middle, his back against the railing and his arms crossed over his chest. And Wedge stood to the right of him, awkwardly looking between the four of you. After what he had just seen a few minutes ago, you couldn't blame him.

Wedge must've kept his mouth shut, because Jessie wasn't pestering you or Biggs. You'd have to thank him later. Speaking of Biggs, he was playing it off as well. Nothing in his demeanor was different than usual. From Jessie's perspective, nothing had happened between you.

"Oooh~ you two sure clean up nice!" Jessie said, "I really am the ugly one in our friend group."

You rolled your eyes. The nerve of her to call herself ugly...

"Chocobo's waiting just around the corner," Biggs said, "Can't keep 'em waiting."

Tifa led the way, speed-walking down the steps with relative ease in order to avoid any questioning about her red eyes. You were about to catch up with her when Jessie spoke up from behind you.

"Damn, Y/N, I really think you should keep that dress! It really accentuates your best features."

And then she slapped your ass.

"Jessie!" You yelped, turning around to glare at her.

"Just saying..." she smirked, passing you and walking down the stairs. You stood frozen as you watched her walk away. The nerve of that girl...

Another body took her place beside you, Biggs, and he seemed to wait for you to continue. You glanced over at him and noticed his hand was outstretched as if to help you down. A small smile formed on your lips when you took it.

"Thanks," you said, grabbing some of your dress with your other hand so you wouldn't trip on it. You took careful steps down the stairs; one bad move in your heels and you could faceplant, "I really can't stand her sometimes..."

"I know what you mean. She's a real character, that's for sure."

You both reached the bottom of the steps and you unclasped your hand from his, giving him a nod before catching up to Jessie and Tifa.

Just up ahead was the chocobo carriage and a stable hand checking his watch in annoyance. A look of relief washed across his face when he saw your group walking towards him.

"Hurry up! We ain't got all night." He said, ushering you, Tifa, and Jessie over. He must've remembered there were only supposed to be two girls going to to Corneo's, because his brows furrowed as he looked between the three of you.

"I'm assuming you're not coming with us," he said, looking Jessie up and down. While Jessie was naturally gorgeous, she really wasn't dressed the part, especially when put next to you and Tifa.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned. He only ignored her, instead looking behind at Biggs and Wedge. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Didn't know you two were having a farewell party. Make the final goodbyes quick, will ya? I've got a schedule to keep."

"Final?" Biggs questioned. The man didn't care to answer him either.

The stable hand turned around, muttering to himself in annoyance as he went to tend to the chocobo at the front of the carriage. It gave your group a small amount of privacy.

You said goodbye to Wedge first, pulling him into a tight hug. He was like a brother to you, and though you knew you would make it back to see him again, the thought of a 'final goodbye' shook you to your core. And though he never explicitly agreed, you could tell he felt it too.

Next was Jessie. She had just gotten done with wishing Tifa farewell and was waiting not-so-patiently for Wedge to get done. As soon as he walked away, Jessie tackled you with a surprise hug.

"Jessie!" You shouted.

"Sorry," she smiled, pulling away to stand in front of you. She took your hands in your own, her playful expression fading into something more serious, "Kick his ass. End his life. I don't care. Just makes sure this ends tonight, ok?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding your head. Hopefully you wouldn't have to end any lives tonight.

"And you better come back here in one piece so I can pick on you some more."

"Wouldn't want to take that away from you. Your purpose in life," you said, trying to lighten the mood.

"It sure as hell is."

She pulled you into another hug, a real one this time. Holding on tight, you prayed that this wouldn't be a final goodbye. Her hair still smelled of green apple. You were sure yours did too, since you used her conditioner last night. After all this was over, you'd have to buy a bottle yourself. After this was all over, you thought. That was the phrase getting you through it all.

Biggs stood just a few feet away, watching you and Jessie's goodbye. He had already said goodbye to Tifa and was waiting for his turn to get to you.

Jessie noticed his presence, and though she knew he wasn't trying to rush her, she got the hint. She took a step away and looked over at Biggs.

"I'll give you two your privacy," she said, walking back to Tifa and Wedge for a second goodbye.

Biggs took Jessie's spot in front of you. Something was different about this encounter with him than all the others, it was tense, awkward even. Well, that's what happens when you almost kiss a guy but get interrupted. Things get awkward.

But you could tell that wasn't what made him so uncomfortable. It was about the mission itself, something that you two had fought over many times. The tension was only grew as you stared into his eyes. It was becoming too much; you had to clear the air.

"Look, I know you're not happy that I'm doing this, but do you at least trust me?" You asked.

He hesitated, and as the moments passed your heart started to sink. Why couldn't he just trust you like everyone else? Did he not believe in your capabilities?

"...I do. I trust you." He finally said.

Relief hit you like a wave. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as a smile settled on your lips. You pulled him into a tight hug and he reciprocated with the same urgency. His hand ran over your hair, then cupping your head as he leaned in to whisper something.

"Like Jessie said, if you have to kill him, do it. You'll probably be helping out a lot of other women."

Your smile faded at the thought. You didn't want to kill him or anybody. Sure, you wanted to deck him right in that stupid smile of his, kick him in the balls so hard he wished he were dead, but you didn't want to kill him. Why did one asshole's life matter so much though? Your hands were already covered in blood: the blood of Shinra troops and the unfortunate casualties of the bombing mishap. Those were innocents, this man wasn't.

You shook the thoughts away; you didn't want to face that reality yet.

"So you were listening," you replied, and you felt his body stiffen under your fingers. He pulled away and you released your grip on his shirt.

"You caught me," he said, trying to play off his obvious embarrassment. There was another uncomfortable silence as you both separated; you shifted your weight from foot to foot as he rubbed the back of his neck. Wow, almost kissing someone really makes things tense.

"So I guess this is goodbye," he said.

"Yeah, I guess it is," you trailed off, another beat of silence, "but not a final goodbye."

"Yeah... no, not a final goodbye." The air was still thick, filled with the weight of all your feelings and confessions left unsaid.

You couldn't leave like this, not without him really knowing how you felt. But you couldn't just confess, not in front of everybody. You didn't think you had the balls for it either.

But a gut feeling told you that you had to do something. So, with all your built up courage, you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. And though it only lasted a moment, you had memorized the feeling of his stubble against your lips.

You turned away immediately so you wouldn't have to see his reaction, and luckily for you, the stable hand was walking towards the back do the carriage. He opened up the wooden gate, ushering you and Tifa in.

Picking up the invitation that was in your seat, you held it in your lap as you sat down. Tifa seemed to do the same, giving a last smile and wave to the group. Just a moment later, the stable hand took off.

————————

The gate of sector seven creaked open, revealing the mess that was sector 6. At least that's what you assumed, since you couldn't really see anything that wasn't directly behind the carriage. There was an old playground just outside the gate, you remembered. It was mostly untouched from the destruction of the sector 6 plate. Lots of children still sneak into the abandoned playground since it's so close.

Looking back at Tifa, she seemed distant, an empty look on her face. She was probably thinking about her friend, the mercenary. It was a shame what happened to him.

You placed a hand over her own and she looked came out of her daze, looking up at you. As soon as she did, your mouth went dry. There was nothing you felt like you could say to make her feel better, so you stayed silent instead.

"Tifa!" A voice called from outside the carriage. It sounded familiar. You and Tifa turned to the voice. A man was keeping up with the carriage. His spiky hair, his flourescent eyes, and that ridiculously large sword strapped to his back... it couldn't be...

"Cloud, Your alive! I thought we'd lost you!" Tifa said, crouching down on the floor of the carriage to speak to him better. Cloud jumped onto the back railing of the Carriage, holding onto the wooden bars as it continued through sector 6.

"What's going on?" He asked. Tifa shushed him.

"I'll explain everything later. But now, we're on our way to see Don Corneo. You should head back to Seventh Heaven, meet up with the gang."

"But-" Cloud started, but Tifa cut him off.

"We'll be fine!" She reassured, "you've seen how much ass we can kick."

Cloud looked between the two of you, creating a small dip in the conversation.

"I have..." he sighed, before jumping down from the carriage.

Watching his figure grow smaller in the distance, you let out a laugh of disbelief.

Tifa did the same, a massive weight taken off of her shoulders. She couldn't hide the smile blossoming on her face. Cloud, her childhood friend, was still alive.

————————

The two of you were dropped off at the door of a large, wutainese-style mansion. It was both gorgeous and disgustingly lavish; a real slap in the face to anyone in the slums. You knew this Corneo guy was a jerk, but you didn't realize the extent.

There was a shady aura to the mansion; something to be expected from a crimelord, but it still put you on edge. You could tell Tifa noticed too, as she grabbed onto your forearm. You looked down at the invitation in your hand, the ticket in. Then you looked back up at Tifa.

"You ready?" You asked her. She nodded, a soft hum escaping her lips as she did.

You both hesitantly opened the door, revealing a small hall and another ornate door with three men guarding it. Your heartbeat rose as you saw them, and you sighed in relief when you didn't recognize any of them. No creep yet.

You walked towards the man in the middle; a young, skinny guy with silver hair. Despite his age and stature, he carried a presence like he'd seen some real shit and was jaded by it all.

"Invitation?" He asked apathetically, and you gave yours to him. Tifa did the same, and he read the invitations, "Two from Sam, huh? That's unusual."

"Looks like he's tryna get on the Don's good side. I mean, look at 'em!" The guard on the right side said, gesturing to the both of you.

"He's gonna have a hard time picking, that's for sure," The other guard, a large, gruff man, said, "Hell, he might just pick both!"

"He'd better leave us some leftovers!"

What the hell did he mean leftovers? As much as you wanted to tell them off for objectifying you and Tifa, you held your tongue. A lack of discretion was what got you in trouble in the first place; you didn't want to screw up again.

The silver-haired man looked up from the invitations, taking a few steps forward and signaling to the two guards to open the fancy double doors.

"Your room is the third room up the stairs. Don't touch anything."

Taking a few apprehensive steps forward and into the main room, you noticed two more Corneo lackeys who stood in the very center of it. You didn't recognize either of them as the creep or any of his men, which was a relief. But you would have to face him sometime. That was the whole point of you coming here: to put an end to your torment, whatever means necessary.

The piles and piles of junk caught your eye. Valuables were scattered all around the room, from expensive furniture to bricks of gold. You remembered what you'd heard about this Corneo guy- a lot of people were in debt to him. So maybe all of this was his payment. The sight sickened you; no man should have this much.

"Hey! Keep your eyes to yourself. You know where to go." One of the men said. Tifa took your arm again, leading you up the stairs.

"It's disgusting," you whispered to her.

"I know," she agreed, "Corneo's a sick man."

"Damn!" One of the men shouted, "Take a look at that ass!"

"Yeah," the other man laughed, "Did you see the other girls' boobs?"

You stopped in your tracks on the staircase, considering whether or not to march back down and slap the shit out of them.

"Come on," Tifa whispered, tugging softly on your arm, "let's just go."

Thank God for Tifa, cause if she hadn't snapped you out of your trance, you might have just followed that urge and gotten yourself into more trouble.

You turned away from those gross men, attempting to tune them out. Following Tifa up the rest of the stairs, you remembered why you were here: to figure out what Corneo wanted with Barrett and to end your creep problem. It wasn't your job to teach these guys to respect women.

Tifa pushed open the third room's door and held it open for you. Stepping inside, you rolled your eyes. It was another room filled to the brim with junk. Corneo was disgusting.

"Seriously, who needs this much stuff?" you sighed.

"Apparently the Don of the slums," She replied, glancing around the room, "How much of this stuff do you think is rightfully his?"

Before you could reply, a click caught your attention. The sound came from the double doors behind you.

"Shit!" You hissed. Turning quick on your heels, you ran to the knob, trying to force the door open. Tifa joined you, having no luck either. She groaned as she struggled against the door.

A soft hissing sound began.

"Y/N!" She said, her eyes wide as she looked across the room. You followed her gaze and noticed a pink, opaque gas pouring out of the vents.

This was a mistake, this was a huge fucking mistake. You walked right into this trap. And you got Tifa into this mess. Tears were starting to prick at your eyes as you banged on the door. You couldn't tell if it was fear, guilt, or the gas. It was probably all three.

"Let us out!" Tifa shouted, to no avail. Nobody was gonna get you out; they planned this. The gas had filled the room now, and you were starting to get dizzy. You tried to cover your nose and but it was a futile effort. There was no way to avoid it. Backing away from the door, you couldn't believe what you had gotten yourself into, what you got Tifa into. You screwed up. You screwed up so bad.

Tifa lost her balance, dropping onto her hands and knees. You tried to help her, but you were so dizzy you had to kneel down onto the floor to keep from falling.

"Tifa!" You called, nearly choking on the gas. She didn't respond.

The doors bust open. And then there were figures and voices, fuzzy and distant. You could barely hear them because of the loud ringing in your ears. That awful ringing, and the splotches in your eyes. They were growing worse and worse, until they took over your eyesight; your consciousness slipped away with it.

#biggs x reader #biggs #ff7 biggs #ff7 remake #ffviir #ffvii #barrett wallace #tifa ff7 #Tifa lockhart #jessie rasberry #ff7 wedge

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corvidry · 4 years ago

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All About RP Icons For Beginners by Birdy

Hi OP, I’m not sure how experienced you are with all the nonsense surrounding the making and using of RP icons, so I’m gonna come at it as though you don’t have any experience with it at all and I’m sorry if that’s too simplified for you, but also if I’m gonna write many paragraphs about one topic I may as well make it accessible for as many people as possible ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This post goes into what tools are out there for the popular methods of finding/making RP icons in the first half and my personal methodology for choosing and using them in my RP for the second half. This is a very surface level answer to the question and is not meant to be an in depth tutorial for the more labor intensive aspects of the process, but if you guys want more information and can’t find it elsewhere, please ask and I'll know what I should be talking about next.

Also I’m also contractually obligated to mention to the masses that I do take commissions both for the drawing of RP icons and the service of capping, cutting, recoloring, and framing canon icons. Sometimes I even post batches of canon character icons for free on this blog so like,,,,, hit me up if you want. But!! You don’t need me, you can absolutely do all of it yourself!! I go into the broad strokes below.

Question 1: “How do you get icons?”

This is kind of a broad question and the answer depends on what your needs are. The right answer for you is gonna live in one of two camps

Find some that already exist that are free to use

Make them yourself / commission somebody else to make them for you.

What you'll choose is gonna depend a lot on your character first and foremost. The big determining factor in most cases is whether or not the face you want has been in anything you can take pictures of.

If you have a canon character who exists in visible media--

--you're in luck! The chances of you finding some resources that exist already is higher when you have a canon character who is in at least a few pieces of media. OP asked about Pearl from Steven Universe, and she's a great example of a character with a lot of resources. Searching for rp icons of a popular character will often yield packs of icons on Tumblr, Dreamwidth, Livejournal, etc. Most of these will be completely free to use or have very reasonable conditions for use (like credit the person who made them for example.) It's often a good first step to see what preexisting resources are available to you even if you still plan on making your own icons.

If you have an OC or a character that's not all that popular--

--you're gonna fall into the second camp. If you want icons, you have to have them made. So what are your options?

Help! My character appears in no media! What are my options?

If your character appears in no media you're in a tough spot. Different people approach this problem in different ways.

Face Claims

One option you have is to choose a face claim to represent your character. In roleplay a face claim or ‘FC’ is a person or character whose appearance you use for the physical description of your character. I personally am not big on doing this, I prefer drawn icons and I tend to RP as animated characters, but some people really like using celebrities and stuff to represent their characters. When I was playing Angus McDonald he hadn't appeared in any visual media yet, so I sometimes used Bryce Clyde Jenkins as the face claim for certain types of threads.

If you're somebody who likes to use face claims there are loads of resources out there for finding the perfect one, including here on tumblr. Try searching up RP Faceclaim Directory and playing around with some of the ones that pop up.

DIY RP Icons

The other option you have is to create those icons from scratch. Draw them yourself based on icons you like or commission an artist to draw some for you. If you can't draw yourself, I've seen some people get really creative with this. Some people create their character in the sims, dollmakers, or their favorite RPG and then take screenshots of that to use for icons. There's also no law that says every icon you use has to be your character's face. When I was writing a trashy mermaid AU I got a lot of mileage out of icons that depicted harbor and oceanic scenes with no actual faces. Get creative, go nuts, have fun.

Icons Aren’t That Important

The other thing to remember that icons are not a must in many RP circles. It's perfectly possible to have a great time and write cool stuff without any pictures at all. Depending on your platform of choice there are probably also other interesting ways you can make your posts unique to you by formatting the text or using symbols or emojis or otherwise denoting your personal style in text.

Help! My character appears in lots of media! How do I make icons?

Again, there are a million and one answers to this question and it really depends on what tools are available to you and what your preferences are. This section is not a tutorial but it will outline some of the options you can look into.

The icon making process is typically in 2 stages-- stage 1: get all your images of your character, and stage 2: edit all of those images into icons.

If you have access to the source material, any version of Photoshop, and software that automates the collection screencaps from video (KM Player, VLC, etc) you're pretty much gucci. You're gonna have no problem getting loads of nice icons in a reasonably short amount of time and there are a million different tutorials on how to use those things whichever way you prefer.

If you don't have access to those things you still have options.

You can still screencap things manually, and you can screencap in batches by holding down the windows key and pressing PrtSc any time you want to save an image. They should be saving to >pictures>screenshots unless you’ve set things up differently. It’s a good way to take a lot of screenshots without stopping in between.

( EDIT / UPDATE: to say that if you use automation for taking screencaps remember to turn that shit off when you’re not using because it oh mylanta it WILL continue to take images without you realizing. Figured out where all my disk space has been going with this rookie mistake, thanks OP)

Additionally, PhotoScape X is a really great little tool for windows and mac that I've never seen anybody talk about, but I use it sometimes and it's totally free with the exception of a few paid features I’ve never once needed or wanted. This program is not as efficient as using Photoshop but it has presets for cropping images easily as well as batch editing options for some basic borders and color retouching. While it’s not as powerful as Photoshop, you can get a lot done with it reasonably quickly compared to other choices. You can also take and edit snips of anything on your screen with it, which is really really useful if you don’t have access to the video or image files you would need on your hard drive for other version of this process. The program looks like this:

Also, not to be like a minimalist about it, but you can also just fucken use Microsoft Paint or whatever you have. Like, whatever, there’s no law. You graphics dont have to be comlpex or deep fried. Half of my icons have been made or edited in paint at some point. It wont be as fast as some of these other methods but a lot of us aren't out here making icons in batches of 100 at a time.

Anything that you can use to make smallish images of your characters face will work to make icons.

If you want more information about any of these methods of icon creation let me know and I’ll talk about them.

Question 2: “How do you make your icons ‘work’ in posts?”

I'm a little confused on what you mean by "make them work" so I'm gonna cover my bases here. I'm assuming what you're getting at is a sort of sense of cohesion in the icons I use, or having the "right" expression for the scene I'm writing. Either that or them not stretching and looking weird thanks to tumblr. I’ll get to both of those.

And before I go into my own rationale for icon choices I feel I should point out that a lot of people who aren't me do successfully manufacture cohesion out of their images by doing fun stylistic things like recoloring their images all the same way or putting cute borders and stuff around them or making them fun shapes, and that's totally something you can learn how to do if it interests you. I do this for icons commissioned by other people and I’m not against talking about how to do those things, but I don’t really bother with them for my own icons all that much. That stuff is all fun and it’s a neat thing you could get into that can make your icons all look really nice together.

BUT ANYWAY --

Since the character you asked about is Pearl, I’m going to focus on her. Nearly all of my Pearl icons are completely unedited and a lot of the credit I would have to give regarding icon quality goes to Pearl herself and the consistently good lighting that the show uses. I don’t have a huge need for editing or color retouching beyond making memes or whatever other goofy things I might be getting up to. Pearl is extremely expressive compared to other characters I have written and since she's in nearly every episode, I've managed to collect…

...oh god, that’s too many icons.

Pearl is a main character and I've been RPing as her for over 6 years now so I have a fuckload of images to choose from and I'm not gonna pretend that doesn't help when I wanna “make things work”. She gives me a lot of options.

That said, you absolutely don't need 3000 images to make a good post. The way I've collected and organized these images may be of use to you even if you dont have as many icons. I've done a lot with my setup to make finding the right icon very easy.

For starters, a minor subset of my Pearl icons are grouped by a particular defining feature. I have one large Pearly folder full of icons and then a few smaller folders inside for icons I thought worth grouping separately. For example, all icons of SUF Pearl in her new jacket are in the same folder. All icons of Pearl in short term alternate outfits are in the same folder. Anything I sourced from Attack the Light is in its own folder. I do this with anything that has a very specific use, such as writing AU content or flashbacks to specific time periods. If I can picture an icon in my head, I usually know where in my ridiculous hell collection to go to find it.

This folder was originally just for her pre-canon outfit but now all of her outfits that only appeared temporarily are in there.

Perhaps more important for the sake of cohesion is that nearly all of my icons that aren’t squirreled away in some smaller folder are loosely arranged by episode. What that means is that most of the time I have icons from the same scene right next to one another. It makes it incredibly easy to make my RP replies appear as though it's all one cohesive scene even if I use more than one icon. When you do it this way it becomes very easy to choose icons that have the same lighting or that appear to lead from one expression seamlessly into another. Exhibit A:

While the vast majority of my icons are numbered, I do take the time to name ones I find myself using a lot or that have particularly unique expressions. Usually I'll choose names that I'll find descriptive or easy to remember based on the context of the icon. You can have a lot of fun with that and never lose your favorites.

Also don't be afraid to lean on icons you got from weird places if you like them. The icons of Pearl from the official comics run don’t look like most of what I have. I think them being different would turn a lot of RPers off, but I use them a lot because I like the style and I almost never see other Pearl RPers using them. It either makes me stand out or it makes me tacky, one of the two, haven’t figured out which, but also I’m not stopping.

And just to reiterate, you can use icons that aren’t your character if they’re thematically relevant or vague enough to look like them. When I’m capping I’ve started saving a folder of miscellaneous environments of interests, hands, and other everyday types of scenery that appear in the thing I’m taking screencaps of.

You can use any size you want for RP icons but the most common is 100x100 or 150x150 pixels. Any smaller than that and the image gets to be difficult to read and work with in my opinion. That doesn’t stop people, of course, but I’m elderly and need glasses now, so no tiny icons for me. On that note, I rarely see RP icons larger than 300x300. Any larger than that it tends to get bulky and be in the way of other people’s comfortable internet browsing experience, especially on mobile. Of course, these are just my suggestions. What you choose will ultimately be up to you, but somewhere in that 100 to 300 px range is pretty safe.

A very tumblr specific thing to know is that any image that is wider than 300 pixels will be stretched to hell, so you probably want to keep it smaller than that.

Thanks, Tumblr, I hate it!

Also, don’t be afraid to make trash images for fun if you’re so inclined. People love that, or at least I do. Not having the right icon can be fun and lead to a very silly solution. Lean into being a shitposter if that’s what you’re called to do.

So yeah, that’s basically what my suggestions are. Collect your images in a way that helps cohesion and ease of use. Keep them a good size. Don’t be afraid to get unconventional with your choices or make memes or whatever. It’s all for a fun time.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now, but more info on any of this can be obtained at the price of one ask, I know it was a lot of different moving parts.

#rp #rp icons #birdy answers #my graphics #my icons #long post

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foxtophat · 5 years ago

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in chapter 3, nick brings john some food and tries to interrogate him, but it doesn’t go quite as planned. john sure is acting weird! i mean, weirder than usual. i mean, usual for john, anyway. i mean... well, let’s just say that nick is as in control as he can be in today’s update!

WHEW i really like this chapter actually, i had fun editing and writing it and all that. soooo i’ve been doing weekly updates but for the sake of consistency i’m going to be changing that to a bi-weekly schedule instead. gives me more time to flesh out these thinner chapters before i get them out to you, the viewer!

speaking of viewers, DAMN thank you guys for the warm ass welcome for this story! i’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my self-indulgent mess. i’ve had so much fun working on it by myself but i’m having even more fun now that i know other people like it!

hey, i’ll slap the text of this chapter below the cut so you don’t have to go off-site if you don’t feel like it. if you read, please consider reblogging, as that’s the best way for me to get this update out there :) otherwise, just like, have a good day and junk!

John is, unfortunately, still alive when Nick goes to check on him. He even seems to be aware of his surroundings, unsurprised when Nick opens the door and downright guarded as Nick approaches him with a plate of vegetables and some smoked venison. The role reversal doesn't sit right at all with Nick, but at least he knows he's in control of the situation for now. Give the bastard a couple of nights of good rest and John will no doubt attempt to get back on top, but tonight he's too sick to do anything but cringe away as Nick unceremoniously drops into a crouch and drops the plate in his general direction.

Tense, with his fingers twisting in the blanket below him, John rasps, "What's this?"

Nick frowns. "Food," he snaps, trying not to let his own rudeness bother him. He doesn't have to feel guilty being short with John — it's fucking John . Nick should be mad at himself for not being more of a dick! Being in a position that would earn a normal person sympathy doesn't mean squat when the guy is a murdering, violent psychopath wearing the thin veneer of a human being! He doesn't deserve anything Nick gives him, besides a swift and merciless kick to the temple.

Nick exhales heavily and reluctantly adds, "You look like you need it."

It's only once Nick rises to his feet again that John reaches for the plate, dragging it into his lap and proving Nick right as he quickly begins to inhale his food. It's alarming to watch John cramming jerky and vegetables into his mouth hand-over-fist, and despite himself he warns, "Slow down, you're gonna choke."

John stops eating like a switch has been flipped, dropping his hands to the plate as though he's been physically restrained. He doesn't say anything, just twists his fingers against the rim and stares at Nick's boots.

Okay.

This, uh. This is weird.

Nick feels his unease chewing at his nerves. "Well?" he snaps, trying to bluster his way through it.

"Well, what ?" John asks in return. There's an edge of annoyance in his voice, an old-world relic of John's normally nasty attitude, but it's not enough to reassure Nick.

"You know what. You're supposed to be dead . Rook put you down almost a decade ago, and I dunno if you noticed, but there's been a nuclear apocalypse since then. There's no way I'm putting you in your grave before you tell me how you got this far in the first place."

It's a lie, but the important part is that Nick sounds tough when he says it.

John clenches his jaw in response and finally meets Nick's glare with his own steely gaze. "They shot me," he says, his ragged voice still managing to scrape together enough attitude to sound vaguely condescending. He touches his gut, fingers prodding gently. "Then, the deputy left me for dead. I assume they returned to your welcoming arms."

Ugh, it is so fucking weird to hear John's passive-aggressive bullshit. Eight years apparently wasn't enough time for him to get over his nasty infatuation, if he's still bitter about Rook picking the Ryes over his own family.

"All of us were happy you were gone," Nick says, unwilling to indulge in John's creepy pity-lust for the deputy. "So, what then? How did you find that bunker? How'd you even know it was there ?"

John picks up a piece of jerky, bending it between his thumb and index finger. "It was my backup plan."

"What, in case the Cult backfired on you?" Nick scoffs loudly as John silently pops the piece of meat into his mouth. "I bet your brother would be real pleased to know you tried to weasel your way out of his prophecy."

John chews and swallows. "I doubt Joseph survived the Deputy at close range. I doubt I'll survive the second round myself. Where... is the Deputy, anyway? Shouldn't they be here casting down judgment, too?"

Nick sets his jaw. "I don't know," he says, folding his arms over his chest. "Nobody knows. They went to confront Joseph, but with all the Bliss in the air... I don't know. We lost track of them in the chaos. If they've had access to a radio, they haven't used it to contact anyone."

If John has any insight into what might've happened, he doesn't share it. He picks at a few pieces of carrot but it seems like he's lost his appetite again. "I see," he says, too pensively for someone who seems half out of their gourd.

"So, you survived being shot down, crawled into a hole with a gut full of buckshot, survived that , and then... what?"

"You saw what," John sighs. He looks tired — all this talking must be wearing him out. It's hard to believe John Seed is too weak to hold a conversation, considering how hard it used to be to get him to shut the fuck up. Nick tries not to spend too much time thinking about it.

"You want me to believe that you spent eight years just sitting there ?" Nick asks. The disbelief in his voice doesn't come close to the incredulity he's feeling. There's no way that John spent the last eight years in a quiet limbo. Hell, Nick's bunker life wouldn't make for riveting television or anything, but he still did more than exist . Even if he was on his own, John had to have some kind of — of backup backup plan, a plot to manipulate the nuclear apocalypse in his favor, something . Right?

"What do you want me to say? The bunker was lacking in entertainment. I was trapped alone, miles away from the Project, with nowhere near enough supplies. I was certain I would die before the first year was over, and from then on I assumed every day would somehow become my last. My being here is as much a surprise to you as it is to me."

He glances up, watching Nick's reaction with a wariness Nick isn't comfortable with. It's too much like a wounded dog, and John has to be playing some kind of angle to be using it.

"I had a radio, but no microphone," he says. "All I could do was listen."

Nick remembers what the radio channels were like for the first couple of months after the bombs dropped. Everyone going through every step of the grieving process over the world they'd known, screaming, begging, arguing, crying all the time. Lots of repentant Peggy idiots cursing Eden's Gate, even more innocent people sending out their last painful goodbyes. Kim would talk to them, sometimes, but for a while, it was safer to just leave the damned thing off.

"Eventually, the radio died," John mutters. "I thought it would be... better, somehow, being isolated. After all, that's how Joseph spoke to God, and I had a lot of questions that He might have answered."

"The last thing we need is another hallucinating prophet," Nick warns. He hopes John tries to sell him on some new-wave Josephism, though — he'd love to shoot the guy on principle and be done with everything. Boy, would that take a load of ethical weight off his back!

John's lips tighten wryly. "Apparently I don't possess the same qualities that made Joseph such an inviting disciple," he says. "I was alone. For... seven years, eight months, three days. Give or take."

"You keep a calendar down there?" Nick snaps, as if he and Kim hadn't quickly sorted time out themselves.

"I did," John replies, somewhat smugly. "Long enough to know when I ran out of supplies, at least. After that, it wasn't long before I had to leave the bunker. I couldn't... I couldn't take it anymore."

Nick waits for John to continue, but he doesn't. There must be more to it than that, Nick's sure of it, but John doesn't seem capable of handling the conversation.

John drops his line of sight to the pistol holstered at Nick's hip. He seems to be waiting for something.

"What happens now?" he asks, once whatever he's waiting for fails to happen. No doubt he expects Nick to brandish the gun in his face, to intimidate him or threaten him or... whatever. Shoot him, probably, because not even John Seed would be stupid enough to give himself clemency for all his crimes.

"Now?" Nick repeats. "Well, I guess that depends on you." He crouches down once more, sure that he's well out of John's grasp as he does so. He wants John to look him in the eye. "See, it's been a while, but I still really fuckin' hate you. After everything you've done, to me, my family, my home ... Honestly, I should've probably put you down the moment I recognized you."

John meets Nick's hard glare with the resolve of a condemned man. "Why didn't you?" he asks.

"Because I haven't had to kill anybody in nearly a decade, and y'know, I'd like to keep that streak." Nick jabs a finger at John, inwardly pleased when he recoils to avoid contact. " You're the one who came to Hope County looking for a fight. So I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet."

Nick figures he sounds pretty intimidating, but John doesn't seem moved by the indirect threat. Of course he isn't. The guy built half a religious movement out of his sadomasochism — he's not going to feel threatened by Nick, not even if he were holding a pair of pliers to his teeth. He doesn't even give Nick the satisfaction of asking what he means — he only stares and waits for Nick to hand down his sentence.

"First, we gotta see if you're gonna make it through the night," Nick says, gesturing towards the abandoned plate. "After that, I'm gonna put you to work. Kim and I, we got a list of things we need to get done. It's back-breaking manual labor, and you're gonna be the one whose back breaks." Nick rises to his feet, trying to seem tough when in reality, his knees are starting to ache, and he can't afford to throw one out over a show of force. "You do what you're told with no back-talking, and I guess we'll find a way to keep you fed."

"And if I don't?"

"I don't think you're in any position to refuse, jackass. Nobody else is going to think twice about shooting you around here. The cult, your followers, family, they're all dead and gone. Anyone left who knows your face is gonna want to smash it to bits, and they aren't going to be inclined to be as generous as Kim and I are being. So it's either this, or I throw you back in that bunker where you belong."

For a moment, Nick thinks that John might try to turn him down anyway. He hopes he does — it'd be nice to get to punch the guy without feeling guilty for hitting a seriously ill man. But John's pale face belies how desperate he is to avoid that bunker of his, and eventually he gives in with a slow, resigned nod.

"You're right," John replies, voice hoarse from exhaustion. "Joseph — the Project — it's all gone. And I..."

John trails off with a heavy, resigned sigh. He looks up at Nick through a thick clump of long, tangled hair that's fallen over his face. "I'm at your mercy," he finally says, dropping Nick's gaze immediately after as though he doesn't expect much mercy at all.

"What, that's it?" Nick asks, honestly fucking confounded at the lack of backtalk. He'd made a good argument, sure, but — what? "No arguing? No negotiating, no defending the cult? No trying to deflect blame?"

"What good would it do?" John replies. Despite everything, he manages to scrape together enough attitude to look unimpressed by Nick's entire deal. It's the first time since realizing John was alive that Nick feels a twinge of that old-fashioned irritation that used to make shooting John seem so appealing. "I have nothing. You've won, Nick. I hope you've been enjoying the prize."

"I ought to punch you," Nick snaps. "Lucky for you, I'd feel bad for giving you a beat-down in your sorry state." He nudges the plate with his boot, sliding it closer to John. "I'll be back with some water so you can clean yourself up. You stink enough to put me off my own dinner. Anything else, well..."

He gestures to the ratty, mildewy pile of junk that they've been collecting in the room, as if any of it could be useful. Broken picture frames, mouse-torn bedding, broken down cardboard boxes and more all piled innocently away in what was going to be Carmina's room. Looking at it fills Nick with a sense of profound sadness that he shoves right back down where it belongs.

"You can figure something out," he tells John, who doesn't seem capable of making another dig at Nick's new position as prison guard. Unwilling to be moved by John's labored breathing as he simply nods in return, Nick quickly about-faces, storming from the room with just enough anger to hide the retreat for what it is.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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amillionmillionvoices · 5 years ago

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salvation. grace/darius. t. for @fraks - how dare u. (au - canon divergent)

and all our yesterdays have lighted fools

Day 1 : 1320

Well. Here I am. Stardate 601.9-7. Not really. Trajectory is on target to intercept the asteroid in 55 days, 11 hours, 21 minutes and… 14 seconds. Biometrics look good so far. In other words, I can still breathe. Which may or may not be favorable when the time comes, although I think I’ll take explosion over suffocation and is anybody listening? I thought you’d have cut me off by now. [static]

Grace? Harris? Can you hear me? Can anybody hear me?

Day 1 : 1502

I’ve done a full systems check. Everything’s operating on my end. I suppose I’ll just have to… wait.

Day 2 : 0121

I’m no good at waiting. I’ve modulated the transmitter to send pulse modulations.

--. .-. .- -.-. . -.-. .- -. -.-- --- ..- .... . .- .-. -- .

Come on. Answer me. Answer me, Grace.

Day 2 : 2237

I’ve asked the computer to scan for signs of life. Over 7 billion, so that’s a good sign. Everyone’s still down there. They just… can’t hear me. I know they can’t hear me. Something—or someone—must have damaged the transmitters… but all of them?

Day 3 : 0230

Spain, Australia, India, China… there’s nothing. From anyone. It’s like the whole world’s gone dark. I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

Day 4 : 0115

There’s nothing I can do. I’m alone.

Day 5 : 0829

I’ve kept a running log of systems and telemetry in a separate video file, to be uploaded to a black box which will be ejected from the Ark before impact. The box has a homing device and should return to Earth in a matter of months. Hopefully this information will be beneficial for reconstructing the Ark, if humanity so chooses; or, in any case, as historical and scientific documentation of what happened aboard Salvation and the progress of the mission.

In the meantime, I suppose I should update this, more personal log, for… nostalgia. Whose remains a question, as I don’t intend to send this back or for anyone to see it. To that end, I suppose it’s simply for me to… process. Engage, in a manner of speaking, with what’s happened. What’s happening.

Oh, what the hell am I d—

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lettersandinkstains · 5 years ago

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hi, sorry if this is annoying but i think i might be transgender (mtf) and i’m freaking out because i don’t know anything about how to transition or the identity and i was wonder if you have any advice or anything??? thanks a million

Anon, hello! You’re not being annoying at all! I’m sorry this is so late!!

First things first, thank you for trusting me with this. And good for you for reaching out for answers! I’m not MtF, so my experiences are gonna be a little different but I’ll give you a run down of what I did, and list options for you and sorta just explain the identity. At the end, I’ll link the resources I can! Hopefully you’ll find this useful!

(Please be warned that this is going to be long ! Everything is itemized and broken down for hopefully an easy understanding and help!)

My Experience / What I Did

When I realized I was Definitely Not Cis, I was fairly into adulthood. She/Her pronouns made me want to die, but he/him felt like a puzzle piece that could fit, but not quite.

I started talking to a therapist about it, and still continue to this day with talking to my new therapist about it. Over the course of the early sessions, I ended up being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, where there’s distress / discomfort between my assigned gender and my gender identity.

From there, on my old blog, I made a post asking for people to use ‘Silas’ and ‘they/them’ for my pronouns. And it just fit perfectly. I elated that I was being referred to correctly -- the pronouns and the name didn’t make me cringe and want to die.

That’s what I did.

What Is Transgender?

Transgender is the term for someone who does not identity as the gender they were assigned with at birth. They can be a trans man, a trans woman, non binary, genderfluid, etc.

The Steps To Take

Talk to a professional who is trained with and is supportive of the LGBTQIA+ community. While it’s not required per se, I very much recommend it. Talking to a professional is incredibly useful for many reasons:

You can get your thoughts and feelings out to a non biased party.

They can help navigate and help you figure out the steps to take.

It’s good to talk to someone! This person can become part of your support network!

Find a supportive community! There’s a thriving trans community on Tumblr, and elsewhere on the internet!

These people are the ones you can go to and talk and ask questions about being trans and transitioning. People’s experiences vary and everyone has different insight!

They will also be a support network for when you need it!

And it doesn’t always need to be online, you can search up local groups where you live, there should be something nearby. If not, that’s okay! Internet friends are real friends too!

I really love r/transpositive and r/asktransgender! Everyone on those two subreddits are so nice and incredible. r/lgbt is also really cool!

I don’t know any community blogs here on Tumblr since I follow only writeblr’s but someone is likely to know something.

I’ve also got an LGBT+ based writeblr discord if you wish to join a welcoming & incredible community! There are also non writing LGBTQIA+ discords! I’m in one for gaming, and r/lgbt’s mod’s run a discord as well called Spectrum. Highly recommend.

Play around with names & pronouns -- and you can also play around with styles too! You’re discovering yourself and your identity. Do what you feel is comfortable.

You can ask a close group of friends you know would be supportive of you to refer to you with she/her pronouns (or whatever pronouns you prefer!), and a name you would like to be called by!

It’s okay if you pick a name now and want to change it later! Names are an important part of your identity and you need to feel comfortable with it!

Dress in clothes that’s considered to be for women. You don’t have to do super femme if you don’t want to! Like, there is no wrong way to dress and present yourself! There’s butch, there’s femme, there’s an in between, etc.

After all, we don’t force cis women to dress super femme and model like (and doubt their gender identity and presentation), so we shouldn’t expect trans women to adhere to those standards either.

However there is nothing wrong with wanting to do! If that sundress makes you feel like a model, and make up makes you feel wonderful, go for it!! And if dressing in jeans, boots, and a t-shirt makes you feel happy, do that!! Dress in a style that makes you feel happy about yourself!

If anyone complains, punch them. Or Snip Snip.

HRT / Transitioning - Hormone Replacement Therapy. This is the act of taking hormones to develop secondary sex characteristics -- trans men take testosterone (T) and trans women take estrogen. Doctors will also sometimes prescribe another hormone to go with it.

If you decide to transition, estrogen will cause a development of breasts, softer skin, fat distribution will be more feminine, and you’ll also develop curves. Essentially, you’ll be going through the typical female puberty.

You don’t have to take hormones if you do not want to or are not ready yet! This is not a be all, end all situation! Take your time and do research on it and the effects it will have!

If anyone tells you that you have to take HRT to be a ~real trans person~, punch them. They have no right telling you what you should do with your body.

This also leads me back to point one: the professional will be able to help you figure this out and help be a support during the process.

Starting Transition

Depending on where you are and your age is what will be available to you.

Some countries do not allow those under the age of eighteen to transition. Some do with explicit parental consent. Be sure to research this as well.

I don’t know if this has changed since I was a youngin, but you would have typically needed a diagnosis if gender dysphoria* in order to get the doctor’s okay and prescription to start HRT. There are exceptions to everything.

This also may depend on local laws too, so check those out!

Depending on what you’re prescribed, you may take birth control, you may have to take shots, etc.

Where you get your hormones also largely depends on where you are too. Here in the United States, universities offer them at their on site clinics (mine does, anyways!), and some Planned Parenthood’s also prescribe hormones too! I can’t speak for other countries, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for you.

HRT is also hella expensive in some places.

If you live in a country with universal health care, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem!

Coming Out -- Don’t come out unless you are ready & you are in a safe environment to do so!

This is basically LGBTQIA+ 101. If you are not safe to do so, do not do it. I know it sucks, but your safety is absolutely number one!

Everything is going to be okay. You are okay, there is nothing wrong with you.

There are certain groups of people who will tell you that your identity may be ~wrong~ or whatever arguments they can think of. Do your best to ignore them, and when you need to, vent to the people you trust.

Things To Check Out

YouTubers:uppercaseCHASE is a trans man who talks about trans issues and his own transition. He has an HRT 101 series that might be helpful! His expertise is FTM (Trans men) so there will be things that might not be as helpful. Educational videos, however!

arielle scarcella - while i do not like her very much and disagree with a lot of her beliefs, she’s a cis lesbian who has done videos in the past that’s educational about trans people -- and frequently has trans women on her channel where they talk about their experiences with HRT, as well as Gender Affirming Surgery if they’ve had it. (same goes for trans men!)

andrea chrysanthe is a trans woman who has documented her experience with transitioning and does life updates. She recently released a two part video that talks a lot about it. (warning: I haven’t watched all of her videos, and some look to be NSFW for at least talk of kink so be careful going in!)

melanie-ish is another trans woman youtuber! she talks about political issues as well as her own experience with transitioning and coming out. (warning: she hasn’t updated her channel in two years!)

PRINCESSJOULES is another trans woman who also documents her life as a trans woman! She also does make up tutorials, vlogging, and a lot of other things!

jammidodger is a trans man who talks about his experience with transitioning. he is by far one of my most favorite youtubers!

(if anyone else has any youtuber recommends, feel free to add on!)

trans resources -

leolines on etsy. they sell underwear for trans women -- a safer alternative to tucking. they also have binders! fairly inexpensive, and so many styles and designs!

the trevor project’s international center - the trevor project in general is absolutely amazing! they have a lot of resources on their website from phone numbers you can call if you’re feeling suicidal to groups and support groups! this link, if you are out of the united states and are looking for something, will give you a listing of international resources!

transgender law center - legal services and advocacy for trans folks!

trans women of color collective - an advocacy group for trans women of color! they do a lot to help trans women of color! check them out, they’re super cool!

trans youth equality federation - they provide support for family membes of trans youth, trans youth, and allies. as well as education!

gender spectrum - provides support for all trans youth, as well as education for families and educators!

I AM: trans people speak - a project that was made to raise awareness of about the diversity that exists within the transgender community.

glaad - resources - glaad is a well known organization for advocacy and education!

WHEW ANON that was a lot. Hopefully you made it through to the end, and hopefully it was helpful! I hope those links above help provide some use for you and figuring out what steps you want to take.

On that note, if anybody who has read this wants to add on, they are free to do so. The above is only advice, from one person whose experience is one of millions and still, different.

AND ANON, one more thing! If you wish to talk, you are so much welcome to DM me! They’re open for non mutuals :)!

Good luck on your journey, may it provide you happiness!

#letters #anon #trans stuff #trans advice #advice #support #i truly do hope this was helpful #and if anybody else would like to provide advice or support #or even words of encouragement for anon #they're free to do so #Anonymous

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years ago

Text

My Youth (Chapter 3)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, angst, slow build, maybe some language. (Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 5.6k+

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1 and 2)

“I can’t believe you would do that, Jinyoung,” you hissed.

15-year old Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. He had figured out that you were angry the moment you both exited the classroom. Normally, you would bounce over to Jinyoung and ask him about how his exam had gone and insist on discussing the answers to all the questions. But today you had stormed straight past him and out of school.

“Me?” Jinyoung asked innocently. “What did I do?”

“You know what you did.”

“No, I clearly don’t-”

You whirled around and jabbed a finger at him accusingly, your hand trembling. “Don’t lie, Jinyoung. I saw you and Jackson Wang passing notes during the exam. You were cheating!”

Jinyoung bit his lip sheepishly. He didn’t understand why you were so upset or why your cheeks had flushed red in anger. But evidently, you had caught on to the little plan that he and Jackson had concocted the night before the exam.

“Look, I can explain-”

“Why? You’re already the best in the class. You don’t even NEED to cheat. You’re smart and intelligent so why would you think about doing something like that?” you demanded. You were extremely upset. “I always try so hard just to match up to you and and your grades but the whole time, you were cheating?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “What? No! This is the first time I’ve done something like that, I swear! It wasn’t even for myself! Jackson promised he would buy me a new model car if I slipped him some of the answers. I figured it wouldn’t do any harm.”

“I can’t believe you would get involved in a stupid scheme like that,” you hissed. “I am so disappointed in you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Why are you only attacking me? I told you, I wasn't stealing answers from anybody! I was helping Jackson pass his exam. If you want to be so morally superior then you should go and yell at Jackson Wang instead of me! He’s the one who wrote down answers he didn’t solve himself! You should be mad at him!”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Why would I get mad at Jackson? He’s not my friend.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t care what Jackson Wang does. He can jump off a bridge for all I care. I’m mad at you because you’re my friend and I think you deserve to be told that what you did is wrong,” you snapped at Jinyoung. He stared at you in surprise and a small, handsome smile suddenly spread across his face. You frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you seriously proud of yourself right now?”

Jinyoung smiled widely and shook his head. “No.”

“Then why are you-”

“You yelled at me because you care about me,” he said playfully, grabbing your arm and entwining it in his. Jinyoung’s handsome face looked smug while you blushed. “I always wondered why you never care about Jackson getting up to stupid shit, but you get upset whenever I do something wrong. This is your weird way of showing affection!”

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp, annoyed. “Affection? For you? No. Go away.”

“Oh, come on. If I were anyone else, you would have raised your hand in class the moment you saw me cheating and told on me,” Jinyoung pointed out.

You sighed and glanced at your best friend. “Yeah, okay. It’s true. Good friends deserve honesty, right? You always tell your friends when they do something wrong because they deserve a chance to fix their mistakes,” you explained. Then you folded your arms across your chest and turned to Jinyoung. “Are you really going to make Jackson buy you that model car?”

Jinyoung rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Would it make you mad if I did?”

“Kind of.”

“Then I won’t,” he replied with a smile. “You can buy me an ice cream instead, to make it up to me. Come on. Let’s go.”

----------

“There are some really strange people hanging about our town lately.”

You raised an eyebrow at the newspaper lady. She was barely looking at you, too busy fumbling for change behind the counter.

“Strange people? What do you mean?” you wondered. The lady hummed lightly as she counted out a few coins in the palm of her hand.

“Well yesterday evening there was a man who came by my store on a bicycle. He was wearing a black hoodie and a mask; all very mysterious! I could barely see his face. He bought a newspaper, handed me a bill and then walked away silently without even waiting for the change! I was astonished,” she fretted. She dumped the carefully counted coins into your hand as you smiled.

Ah. So the newspaper lady had finally gotten a glimpse of her long-awaited Park Jinyoung. If only she knew exactly whom she had sold a paper to.

“Maybe it was a cyclist passing through,” you replied lightly.

“And today! There was a handsome man who drove past in a luxury car!” she cried, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen such a car in my life! Quite the opposite of the cyclist; he kept asking the oddest questions and left without even buying a newspaper!”

This was a surprise. You blinked at her. “What sort of questions did he ask?”

“Odd, extremely odd,” the lady replied vaguely. She suddenly brightened up as she pointed at the headline on the newspaper you had picked up. “Oh! But there’s more about our dear Jinyoung’s company in the news! It seems they’re uh… re-restructuring, was it? Something called a merger? I hope they’re all good things!”

You blinked at the newspaper. GOT Tech and GOT Motors to merge with major competitors! The headline screamed. Changes in top management expected to follow the GOT Group restructuring process! You blinked at the headline in surprise. The article talked about the GOT empire merging with major competitors for the first time. These were all billion-dollar deals. This was an important, if not crucial, time for Jinyoung’s company.

Why was he taking a vacation now when the conglomerate needed people to make important decisions?

“Well, I suppose it means growth for Jinyoung’s companies,” you admitted to the newspaper lady with a smile. “GOT Group will become a multinational entity once all these acquisitions are through.”

The lady beamed. “Oh, how lovely for Jinyoung!”

Yes, how lovely indeed. So why is he sitting at home? Why is he hiding from the world? Why doesn’t he seem happy? What am I missing?

You waved goodbye to the newspaper lady and continued towards the coffee shop. You needed a cup of something strong to get you through the evening; the parent-teacher meetings would start next week and you had to prepare progress reports for each of the students in addition to helping with the PTA fundraiser.

You were going to be swamped all week.

“Aeri!” you greeted your friend who was sitting behind the counter. “I’ll have a cup of black coffee please, lots of sugar!”

Aeri smiled at you prettily. She had always been one of the most beautiful woman in town but now her pregnancy had her positively glowing. She and Jackson had been trying to have children for a long time and they were finally going to be blessed with a little baby girl in a few months.

“You look tired,” she told you bluntly as you climbed onto one of the bartools at the counter.

“And you’re glowing with happiness,” you replied.

“Try telling Jackson that. My husband just received an earful from me because he did the groceries and forgot to buy carrots.” Aeri sighed and poured you a mug of black coffee. She passed it to you and then leaned against the counter miserably. “We don’t even need carrots. I don’t know why I keep losing my temper with him.”

You smiled. Jackson adored Aeri with every fibre of his being. “I’m sure he’s forgotten about it already.”

“Do you think so?”

“The man has five to ten year olds crying and throwing unreasonable tantrums at him every day, babe. A pregnant woman can’t be that hard to handle. You’re lucky Jackson adores you.”

“I guess I am lucky,” she admitted softly.

You clutched your warm coffee mug. You hadn’t been particularly close to Jackson or Aeri during your school days but they were the only people of your own age left in this small town. Most of your high school classmates had left for Seoul in search of more luxury and success. You had no choice but to befriend Jackson and Aeri. Like you, they had chosen to stay behind and live quieter lives. The only difference was that they were married and had plans for the future. They wanted to raise children in their peaceful hometown and live happily.

You, on the other hand, were just sort of… existing.

You couldn’t help but feel jealous of them sometimes.

“Whoa. Who is that?”

You noticed Aeri’s eyes go wide and followed her gaze towards the window. A sleek, silver luxury car had pulled up outside. The man who stepped out of it looked rich. He had broad shoulders framed in an expensive suit and his jaw was clenched tightly. He walked up to the counter and gave Aeri a forced smile.

“Can I have a latte, please?” he asked her politely.

“Of course,” Aeri replied as she set about making his drink. “I’ve never seen you before. Are you new in town?”

The man let out a dry, humourless chuckle as he took a seat at the stool beside yours. “No, ma’am. I’m just passing through. I’m looking for someone, actually, but I haven’t managed to find them yet.”

Aeri blinked. “Oh. A relative?”

“A friend,” the man replied. He looked exhausted and you could tell just by the tired look in his eyes that he had absolutely no expectations when he finally posed the question. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen Park Jinyoung anywhere around here, would you?”

You froze. What? Who was this strange man looking for Jinyoung? You suddenly remembered what Jinyoung had told you the previous day. If anybody weird comes around asking for me, then tell them you don’t know me. Was this man perhaps one of those journalists Jinyoung seemed to be so afraid of? You took a sip of your coffee quickly. Maybe it was best if you got out of here and went to the Parks’ home to warn Jinyoung that somebody in town was asking about him.

“Park Jinyoung?” Aeri asked, eyes wide. She glanced at you awkwardly. “Oh, dear. He is from here but it’s been at least a decade since he’s visited this town. Shouldn’t you be looking for him in Seoul or something?”

The man looked disappointed as he rubbed his temple with his fingers. “I wouldn’t have come here if he was in Seoul; I’m from there myself. It’s all right. It seems nobody in this town has seen him in years so maybe I’m just on a wild goose chase-”

“Why are you looking for him? What is Park Jinyoung to you?” you demanded.

“I told you, he’s a friend,” the man replied as he turned to look at you. He had dark, intense eyes and they narrowed sharply on your face. You felt your stomach lurch a little at the way his expression changed suddenly. He pointed an index finger at you. “Wait a second… you look extremely familiar.”

“Me?”

He nodded. “Yes, you. Have we met before?”

What was this? Some weird way of hitting on you? You were absolutely positive that you had never seen this man in your life. You exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Aeri and then quickly reached into your pocket to pay for the coffee.

“No, I’m pretty sure we haven’t met,” you told the man shortly. You handed Aeri a bill. “I’m off, Aeri, I don’t want to miss the last bus home.”

Aeri nodded in understanding. She had noticed the way the strange man was looking at you oddly and wasn’t about to push you to stay. You gathered your things and avoided the man’s stare as you hurried out of the coffee shop. You had just made it a few yards towards the bus stop when you heard footsteps behind you; the man was following you.

“Wait!” he called out to you sharply. “Wait, I know who you are!”

You clutched your purse tightly and kept walking. “Please leave me alone.”

The man was still following you and your heartbeat began to thud in anticipation. What did he want? You dug into your purse for the pepper spray you kept handy but his words caused you to stop in your tracks.

“I can’t remember your name, but- listen! Park Jinyoung kept a picture of you and him on his desk during college! It was a picture of you both on your high school graduation day; he said you gifted it to him when he came to Seoul!” the man cried out.

Your eyes widened in recognition. You had gifted Jinyoung a photo frame with a picture of you both on graduation day before he left. You whirled around and saw that the man was a few feet behind you, trying to catch his breath.

“Who are you?” you demanded firmly. “How the hell do you know that? Aren’t you a journalist?”

“No; I’m Park Jinyoung’s friend. He was my roommate throughout college. We went to Seoul University together,” the man insisted. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card that he gave you quickly. You flipped it over. It had the GOT Group logo on it. The man’s name was Im Jaebum and it said he was the Chief of the Legal Department at GOT Group. You paused. Im Jaebum. That name was familiar. Where had you heard it?

Ah, yes.

Jinyoung had mentioned it to you himself; the first and only time he came home for Christmas after leaving for college in Seoul. That Christmas break was the last time you had seen your best friend before he cut you off for an entire decade.

“So how’s college going?” you asked him lightly. “Are you as popular in Seoul as you were here?”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “What use is popularity? That’s for kids. I’m looking for fame and stardom.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. But seriously, Jinyoung. I’m worried about you. Do you have any friends?”

He bumped your shoulder lightly and chuckled. “Shut up, I’m fine. I have plenty of friends, okay? In fact, my roommate is a really cool guy. His name is Im Jaebum and he’s planning to study law. We get along great. He might just become my new best friend,” he teased you.

You huffed. “Let him try. He’ll realize how unbearable you are in a matter of months.”

“Me? Excuse you, I think you’ll realize that the unbearable one in this friendship is YOU, Miss I-can’t-even-save-a-piece-of-Christmas-cake-for-my-best-friend…”

You looked down at the business card and took a deep breath. You were convinced that this man really was Jinyoung’s college roommate. The fact that he was even working at Jinyoung’s company had to mean that he was somebody Jinyoung trusted, right? You bit your lip and looked at him nervously. Jaebum seemed less dangerous than he had a few minutes ago but you still weren’t sure.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked him, handing him his business card back.

“Help me find Jinyoung. I know you’ve seen him. You were his best friend-”

You raised an eyebrow. “You must be mistaken. Jinyoung and I are barely friends. In fact, I haven’t been in contact with him since-”

“He ran away.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jaebum took a step closer to you and you finally saw the pain and desperation in the man’s eyes. This was not a journalist looking to snoop around. This was a man under immense pain and pressure.

Jaebum took a deep breath. “Jinyoung went missing three days ago. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him since then. His car, most of his belongings, everything… they’re still in his apartment. He only took a few clothes and his wallet. His secretary can’t contact him either. I broke into his apartment to see if maybe he was stuck inside or injured and all I found was…”

You watched as Jaebum’s lips trembled and he struggled to choke out the next few words. He took a deep breath. “I found a half-written suicide note in his apartment. Okay? You have to help me find him.”

“A suicide note?” you repeated. Your brain suddenly felt fuzzy. “W-what…? Why would he write something like that?”

Jaebum bit his lip and sighed. “Fuck. You don’t have any clue about what’s been happening, then.”

“What’s been happening?”

“Things at the company… they’re not going well. Jinyoung is under immense pressure. The Board of Directors…” Jaebum groaned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. His eyes were red and he was struggling to speak. “Fuck. Fuck them. What does it matter? I can’t even figure out if he’s alive or dead right now!”

You wanted to puke.

“Did he seriously write a suicide letter?” you whispered.

“Yes.”

“You’re not lying, you… you’re not just trying to get me to tell you where he is?” you demanded, heartbeat thudding.

Jaebum’s eyes widened and he lunged forward to grab your arm in desperation. “Then you do know? You’ve really seen him?”

“Yes,” you replied. You glanced at Jaebum’s silver luxury car. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.”

----

The drive to the Parks’ residence felt like forever even though it was only a few streets away. Your head was spinning and you felt dizzy. Jinyoung? Leaving a half-written suicide note and running away from Seoul? It didn’t sound like him. Jinyoung had always been a happy person. Jinyoung had always been a stable person. Jinyoung had always loved life.

How could somebody like that even think about killing themselves?

More importantly…

What had happened to the happy, fun-loving and hopeful Jinyoung that you always knew?

“Here? We only came to his parents’ house?” Jaebum demanded as he pulled to a stop outside the large home. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “I came here earlier, his mother opened the door and said that she hadn’t seen him.”

“I know. But he’s here,” you promised.

Jaebum frowned. “You’re sure?”

“He’s been hiding from the townspeople so he probably told his mother to send away anyone that came looking for him,” you explained nervously. You took a deep breath and looked down at your trembling hands. “Trust me, he’s just hiding upstairs.”

At least, I hope he is.

“Fuck. That bastard. I’m going in there, then,” Jaebum replied and unbuckled his seatbelt aggressively. You reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, stopping him.

“Wait. Whatever you just said to me… about finding a suicide note in his apartment…” you took a deep breath and looked up at Im Jaebum firmly. “If you even mention that in front of his mother then I will kill you, do you understand?”

Jaebum frowned. “Relax. I’m not an idiot.”

“Just making sure.”

You slowly got out of the car as Jaebum ran to the front door and banged on it loudly. You winced at his loud voice.

“Park Jinyoung! Park Jinyoung! Get your ass out here right now, I know you’re in there!” Jaebum called out. You stood nervously behind him and waited until the front door opened. Mrs. Park appeared on the front porch looking terrified.

“You! I told you to go away earlier!” she insisted, eyes widening in fear. You hurried over towards the older woman.

“Mrs. Park, it’s okay. This man is a friend of Jinyoung’s,” you tried to reassure her by putting an arm around her. “Can you just call Jinyoung downstairs? This is his friend Jaebum and he’s worried about him because it seems like Jinyoung didn’t tell a lot of people before he came down here on vacation…”

You tried to soothe the harried older woman. Before she could respond, though, you caught sight of movement inside the house. Jaebum had seen it too. He stormed past you and Mrs. Park, entering the small home.

“Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung’s faint voice carried out to the front porch. “J-Jaebum?”

“Where the hell did you go without telling me, you asshole? I’ve been trying to call you for days…” Jaebum cried, his voice breaking. You hurried inside to see both men in the living room. Jaebum had wrapped Jinyoung into a tight hug and Jinyoung was standing still. His dark eyes were distant as he slowly and reluctantly hugged his friend back.

“Why did you come all the way here?” Jinyoung asked him slowly.

Jaebum frowned. “You know why I came, how could you just…” he trailed off when he saw Mrs. Park and you. He released Jinyoung and made an awkward polite bow to Mrs. Park. “I’m so sorry for barging in like that, ma’am. I was worried Jinyoung would refuse to see me and I, um…”

Mrs. Park looked shocked. “But what is so urgent that you would come all the way down here just to find Jinyoung? Is everything all right?”

Jinyoung briefly made eye contact with you. There was a flash of intense emotion in his dark eyes. What was it? Worry? Fear? Before you could even begin to register it, Jinyoung had turned back to his mother. “It’s just business stuff, Mom. This is Im Jaebum and he works for the Legal Department at my office. We’re going upstairs to talk about some work stuff.”

Mrs. Park nodded while still looking surprised. “Oh. Should I, um, should I make some tea, then?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jinyoung grabbed hold of Jaebum’s arm firmly and dragged him upstairs. There was a sudden, awkward silence. You turned and smiled at Mrs. Park.

“Can I maybe have some of that tea too, Mrs. Park?”

She smiled at you.

“Of course you can, dear.”

----

You were dying to know what was going on upstairs but you couldn’t simply barge in. After all, who were you to interfere in Park Jinyoung’s life? Who were you to demand answers from him? He was simply an old friend whom you hadn’t spoken to in a decade.

Instead, you stayed downstairs and had tea with Mrs. Park.

“I was worried that he was one of those journalists that Jinyoung was so afraid of,” the older woman explained to you once she had made the tea. She smiled sadly. “I never knew that it was a coworker and friend of his. Something must be terribly wrong at work for the poor boy to come running down and find Jinyoung during his vacation. Should I ask Jinyoung if everything’s all right?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m sure it’s fine, Mrs. Park. Jinyoung knows how to handle things.”

“Does he?” she wondered.

I don’t know. I thought he did too, but if he started writing a suicide note and then left Seoul without a word to even his best friend… maybe Park Jinyoung knows less about how to live life than I thought.

You tried to ignore the creeping thoughts that filled your mind. You had to be strong and supportive for Mrs. Park’s sake. She couldn’t find out that something was seriously wrong with Jinyoung. It would break her sweet heart.

Despite the sick feeling in your stomach and your throbbing headache, you sat with Mrs. Park and shared cheerful stories about the kids at work. You told her about how Ki-woo had built an adorable little model train for his Art assignment and how Jangmi had tried to bite Mr. Wang’s arm off during gym class. Mrs. Park laughed with you and by the time Jaebum and Jinyoung finished their conversation and came back downstairs, she had calmed down visibly.

“Mom, is it all right if Jaebum spends the night here?” Jinyoung asked. He looked tired; his eyes were as sunken as ever but his soft smile seemed a little more genuine than before. “He has a long drive back to Seoul so I told him to start in the morning.”

Mrs. Park leapt to her feet. “Of course! It’s getting so late. You must stay the night,” she told Jaebum kindly. He gave her a bow and a grateful smile. Mrs. Park gasped. “I didn’t even notice the time… I should get started on dinner quickly!”

You slowly got to your feet as well. “I’ll be leaving then, Mrs. Park. I have some work to do…”

Mrs. Park blinked at you. “Oh, dear. But it’s so late, the buses must have stopped running! How will you get home? It’s not safe for you to walk so far at this time of night. Maybe Jinyoung should-”

Jaebum smiled and stepped forward politely. “I can give you a ride in my car. This is a small town, I’m sure you don’t live too far away.”

You bit your lip. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

He chuckled. “No, it’s fine. I owe you for bringing me here and helping me find Jinyoung.”

“Okay. That would be great.”

----

You got into the silver, luxury car. Is this what rich people in Seoul drive? This was probably the most expensive car you’d ever been in in your life, but you couldn’t bring yourself to appreciate the leather seating and the priceless sound system. You glanced nervously at the man who sat beside you as he pulled out of the Parks’ driveway.

You took a deep breath and asked the question that was eating away at you.

“Jaebum-ssi.”

“Yes?”

“Is Park Jinyoung suicidal?”

Jaebum turned to you with wide eyes. He bit his lip as he expertly maneuvered the car onto the small street. “Wow, you really don’t beat around the bush, do you?” he laughed drily. Then he frowned. “I don’t really know. What does it mean to be suicidal? Did he contemplate committing suicide at some point? I’m almost positive he did. Would he do it again? I don’t know. I don’t think even Jinyoung knows if he would do it again.”

You clenched your fists. “I mean, should I be worried?”

Jaebum glanced at you. “I don’t know. Who am I to tell you whether or not to worry about something?”

“Do you ever give direct answers or are you always this fucking enigmatic?” you snapped at him. “Listen to me. Do you, or do you not think that Park Jinyoung needs professional help? Should I be telling his mother to take him to a psychologist?”

Jaebum sighed. “You’ll never convince Jinyoung to go to a doctor.”

“That’s not the point-”

“Jinyoung has been through a lot lately,” Jaebum replied. His hands were tight on the steering wheel. “He’s always been married to his work and things aren’t going well right now.”

“But GOT Group is expanding. It’s all over the papers. Growth rates are phenomenal.”

“Things are going great for the company but they’re not going well for Jinyoung,” Jaebum explained. He bit his lip. “Look. I don’t know how much he’s told you but Jinyoung is about to lose everything he worked the last ten years to build. He’s watching his hopes and dreams get flushed down the drain. He’s probably angry. He’s probably empty. He probably feels like life is cheating him.”

Your eyes widened.

“That sounds to me like he needs professional help.”

“Maybe he needs help,” Jaebum replied softly. “Or maybe what he really needs is love. I’ll be honest. For a good minute I was afraid I would find Jinyoung face-down in the Han River. The fact that he came back to his hometown instead… whether he admits it or not, it shows that he’s looking for some acceptance. He’s looking for a reason to keep living.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you think he’ll find it?” you wondered.

Jaebum smiled at you lightly. “I don’t know. I hope he does. Maybe you can help him.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, trembling. Me? How can I help him? What could you do for a man who refused to acknowledge that you had once been best friends? How could you help Jinyoung when you had no clue who he was, or what he was going through? You turned to Jaebum nervously.

“Shouldn’t you stay here a little longer? Since you’re the only one who knows what he’s going through, maybe you can convince him to go back to his life in Seoul instead of running away from it-”

Jaebum shook his head firmly. “I can’t do that. Jinyoung can’t keep clinging onto the thoughts of his old life. He needs to find something new to live for. I think he needs to find it here, among people who care about him.”

You sighed and rubbed your eyes tiredly. “I guess it’s best for him to be with his parents. I can’t think of anyone who cares about Jinyoung more than his parents.”

“And you?”

You blinked. “Me?”

“You care about him too. I saw the look in your eyes when I mentioned the suicide note. You were terrified,” Jaebum pointed out knowingly. He sighed and bit his lip. “While we were upstairs, Jinyoung kept asking me not to say anything to you. He said he didn’t want you to know about anything that’s going on with the company. What happened to you both that Christmas break?”

“Christmas break?” you asked.

Jaebum nodded. “Yeah. During our first year of college. When Jinyoung and I became roommates, he talked about you all the time. He told me so many stories about the two of you and his eyes always lit up whenever he said your name. Before he went home for Christmas break, he was so excited to see you again. Did something happen then?”

You blinked. During Christmas? What had happened then? Jinyoung had come home and there had been a neighbourhood party. You’d both spent a few days together while Jinyoung told you all sorts of stories about Seoul and then he’d gone back to university. It was immediately after that that he cut off all contact with you and the rest of the townspeople. He’d never answered your phone calls again.

“I don’t know,” you replied vaguely.

“Jinyoung never talked about you again after he came back from that Christmas break. He said he’d been an idiot to think that you both could stay the way you were forever,” Jaebum replied. His eyes were soft as he turned to look at you. “I think Jinyoung cares about you a lot.”

Your voice was cold. “Jinyoung definitely cared about me. But after these past ten years, I can’t believe that he still does.”

“You don’t just stop caring about people-”

“Yes. Yes, you do. It’s surprisingly easy,” you explained. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“You think he hates you?” Jaebum demanded.

You forced a smile. “I don’t know what Park Jinyoung thinks anymore. I don’t even know who he is. Take a right and stop at this building, please.”

Jaebum frowned. “But-”

“Thank you for the ride,” you told him politely, unbuckling your seatbelt. Jaebum’s lips were pressed together tightly but he nodded and got out of the car, opening the door for you. “Have a safe drive back to Seoul tomorrow, Jaebum-ssi.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night.”

-------

Your head throbbed as you flopped back into bed after a warm shower. Not only had you failed to finish any of the report card work that you needed to do, but now your mind was whirling.

All you could see when you closed your eyes was Jinyoung. The childhood Jinyoung, your warm and loving friend. The adult Jinyoung, the distant and broken man. How could they be the same person? What had turned him into the person he was now? What had happened to Jinyoung that Christmas break to cause him to stop talking to you, what had happened to him in Seoul that he had considered ending his life?

You had so many questions and no answers.

Your phone rang loudly as you closed your eyes. You reached over and checked the caller ID. Mrs. Park. She was probably checking if you’d made it home safely, the darling woman.

“Hello, Mrs. Park,” you greeted.

“Uh, hi.”

You sat up straight in bed. That was not Mrs. Park’s voice. It was much deeper and quieter. Your head throbbed in confusion.

“Mrs. Park?” you demanded.

“Uh, sorry, no, this is Jinyoung,” he replied awkwardly. His soft voice was hesitant but it sent a shiver down your spine all the same. “My, uh, my phone broke, so I’m calling using my mother’s. Jaebum said that he dropped you off home safely?”

You bit your lip. “Yeah, he did.”

“Right. I was… I was wondering if we could talk,” Jinyoung admitted quietly.

“Sure. What about?”

“I’d rather talk in person. Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Why? Why did Park Jinyoung make you so nervous? Why did hearing his voice over the phone make your heart flutter like a teenage girl? “Sure,” you replied calmly. “I’m at school until 3. You can come by then and we can talk once I get off work. At the same bench where you were waiting last time?”

Jinyoung paused for a moment. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Good night.”

“Good night, Jinyoung.”

----

A/N: I’m trying to take this slowly to build up the relevant details, but I’m not sure if it’s getting boring with all the unanswered questions and lack of drama. Do I need to be picking up the speed with this one?

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung scenario #jinyoung angst #got7 angst #got7 fluff #jinyoung fluff #got7 fanfiction #jinyoung scenarios #got7 drabble #got7 imagine #jinyoung my youth

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i-am-not-anon · 6 years ago

Text

Under the eye of an institution

part 6

Summary: Logan and Patton (both 16), the older students, are expected to look after two groups of freshmen in Watersouth boarding school for boys. Both of them despise the tradition of bullying that is subjected to the newcomers by older students. The two respectively get a student in their groups who is a little different from the ordinary crowd: Roman and Virgil (both 15).

Author’s note: Update, everybody! Now I realize how much work actually goes into writing all of this. There’s no base storyline for this kind of fic, at least I haven’t seen anybody else write a fic like this. So please be patient with the slow uploads! Message me for getting into the taglist, please.

Triggers: Bullying, abuse, violence, violent punishments, panic attacks, self-deprecation, name-calling, i n s t i t u t i o n

Other parts here

...

The next day, Logan went to his room right after classes, to analyze the results of the tests Roman had filled the last evening. After hours of work, he merged all his findings to one sheet.

Possible reasons behind Roman Pears’ behavior

adhd, combined: 74% probability

executive dysfunction: 61% probability

specific learning disabilities: 14% probability

bipolar: 19% probability

sensory processing disorders: 5% probability

autism%: 12% probability

anxiety: 43% probability

depression: 20% probability

Abstract:

Possible reasons for Roman Pears’ behavior and/or diagnosis for him would according to this study be ADHD combined type, executive dysfunction and anxiety, in the order of highest probability.

However, specific learning disabilities, bipolar, sensory processing disorders, autism and depression seem to be considered mostly irrelevant options according to this study.

Logan smiled to himself, placing the paper on his desk. He felt proud of the playful study he had conducted, and content about his findings. Though further studies were always needed, the tired older student decided he would just roll with the answers he had gotten for now. Trying to keep Roman on his desk for a couple hours when he was supposed to have free time was an experience he didn’t want to go through again very soon. Logan took a breath, deciding to go search for Patton to discuss about his findings before continuing with his actual homework.

….

Virgil walked to Patton, hiding his red eyes with both of his sweater paws. Patton shot up, hurrying closer to the sniffling boy. ”Virgil! Are you alright? What happened? Let’s go someplace quiet and talk for a bit, how does that sound?”

Virgil nodded, following Patton and trying to quiet his sobs with his hands as they walked past the other older boys. One of them yelled rudely after Virgil, but Patton’s deathly glare made the student shut up.

As the duo got outside of the building, Patton began speaking again. ”Let’s sit down right here,” he decided, pointing at a nice patch of grass. ”Can I hug you, Virgil?”

Virgil shook his head, still hiding behind his hands.

Patton felt a bit lost as he always wished to be held if he was feeling upset, but tried to think of other ways to help the panicking boy.

”Um.. We’re going to get through this,” he tried, but he didn’t believe his unconvinced tone himself either. He didn’t even know what happened yet.

”Let’s focus on breathing,” Patton figured, turning to face Virgil on the grass they were sitting on. ”Breathe with me. In…. and out.” … ”In… and out.”

Slowly but surely Virgil was able to calm down a bit. He didn’t want to stress anybody or cause any more trouble than necessary with his current problem, but he assumed Patton wouldn’t let him go before he would tell his tutor what was going on. And Patton was the only one in this crazy school he could possibly trust. Maybe. So Virgil tried his best to talk through the sniffles and stutter this stressful situation had made even worse.

”M-mm-m-isster B-b-b-br -r -ass,” Virgil was able to say, and Patton nodded seriously. ”Did he get mad at you again?”

Virgil nodded. ”Bu-b-b-but-t-t-t i-i-i-t’s-s-s wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-worse,” he grimaced, his hands moving back to hide his stressed expression and another wave of tears.

Patton frowned sadly. ”Hey, don’t worry. We can figure it out.” The older student noticed how Virgil was moving towards another panic attack. ”Let’s remember to breathe calmly. In.. and out.”

After Virgil was able to breathe again, he explained the whole situation to Patton at his own pace. Patton listened, trying not to panic himself as he heard the whole thing.

”So this group of boys convinced you to let them continue the accidental mispronunciation, and they are using it against the teacher in question,” Patton asked. Virgil nodded.

”And now Mr. Brass is accusing you of planning and creating all of this?”

Virgil nodded, breathing getting shallow again. Patton held his arms open for they boy, and Virgil sat little bit closer to lean his head on Patton’s shoulder. The younger boy muttered about not being able to tell the truth without revealing his only friends had the idea at first, and how they could get in trouble instead of him. Patton made sure to listen the whole thing patiently before interrupting. Virgil also told Mr. Brass had instructed the young student to tell his tutor, Patton, to spank him good. Patton sighed as he heard this.

”Maybe you knew already, but I will absolutely not do that to you,” the older student dismissed the instruction. ”I don’t think it would do any good in this situation. I have to admit, this is a tough puzzle to solve,” Patton had to pause as Virgil muttered a quick ’Sorry’.

”It was not your fault. We can figure this out, and if you give me permission, I can talk about it with my classmate who always seems to find a good answer to tough situations.

Virgil looked at his tutor quietly.

”Logan is the other tutor who refuses to use violent punishments,” Patton revealed and Virgil nodded in confirmation.

”Okay. I will brainstorm with him and you just try to stay safe, kiddo. Does that sound alright?”

Virgil nodded, drying his wet cheeks. A hint of smile could have been spotted on his face if looked very carefully.

….

Logan let out a relieved sigh as he found Patton walking in the library. ”I have been looking for you, Patton. I have some important news to discuss with you.”

Patton smiled at his friend. ”Me too! Where should we talk?”

The two tutors decided to sit at a quiet corner table of the library. They found themselves absorbing into the matter of trying to help their students to their best ability, and hours later, Logan glanced at the clock and realized they were almost late for dinner. Logan glanced at his notes of the conversation briefly before hurrying out of the library after Patton, seemingly satisfied with the amount of work they had gotten done.

Notes regarding the problems of Roman Pears and Virgil Glasgow

Virgil’s case:

cause: stutter and questionable acts of new friends

consequences: Mr. Brass accuses Virgil of making fun of him

possible solution 1: Virgil tells the truth to Mr. Brass

outcome 1: Virgil might lose his new friends and they would get punished

possible solution 2: Virgil tries to apologize to Mr. Brass

outcome 2: Mr. Brass might or might not accept the apology, Virgil is seen as a troublemaker

possible solution 3: Virgil tells his friends to stop the pranks

outcome 3: Friends might or might not obey, Virgil is seen as a coward

The best solution: unsure, demands further analysis

Roman’s case:

cause: possibly ADHD, executive dysfunction and anxiety

consequences: Roman’s irresponsible behavior, which causes him get in trouble frequently

Possible solution 1: Roman gets treatment to his disorders

outcome 1: Roman would have to move schools or wait for unknown amount of time, since there is no mental health professional available in Watersouth boarding school yet

possible solution 2: Roman learns to work with his disorders himself

outcome 2: Highly unlikely to work

possible solution 3: Logan and maybe also Roman’s teachers work with him to help him

outcome 3: teachers will be difficult to persuade, Logan will make mistakes since he is not qualified

The best solution: unsure, demands further analysis

Logan smiled, sliding the notebook to his backpack and following Patton to the cafeteria.

…

As Patton stepped to the cafeteria, a pair of students walking to the opposite direction almost stumbled onto him. ”Oh, sorry,” Patton stepped aside, now noticing that this was his classmate dragging a younger student by his collar. As Logan walked closer, the older student let out a huff, shaking Roman by his collar. ”Finally, Andrews! This brat wouldn’t keep quiet in the line and you were nowhere to be found! If you wouldn’t have just appeared, I would have slapped this jerk myself.”

Logan frowned. ”You know very well it is against the rules to punish students other than your own, Simons.”

Patrick Simons rolled his eyes. ”If anything, this idiot is against the rules.” he let go of Roman’s collar and shoved him towards Logan. ”I’m going to eat my dinner now that I finally have some peace.” he walked away, dismissively wiping his hands to his trousers as if touching Roman had made them dirty.

Roman looked at the floor, twisting his hands. ”I’m sorry, sir,” he muttered to Logan.

Logan put a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder. ”It’s alright. Let’s have dinner, and I’ll expect you to head to my room after we’re done with that.”

”Yes sir,” Roman nodded, walking back to the end of the line with the two older students.

#uei #uei6 #under the eye of an institution #sanders sides #roman #patton #virgil #logan #au #sanders sides au #boarding school au #highschool au #part6 #namecalling #abuse #physical abuse #emotional abuse #panic attack

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jessikahathaway · 7 years ago

Text

Vanilla Ice Cream

I DON’T OWN THE PICTURE!

I have returned with a Hybrid!AU oneshot as a special treat. I know you guys want another chapter of Owner, but I don’t have a lot of inspiration for that story. But new stuff is in the works! Thanks for passing 1100 followers! You guys rock! Please shoot me a message and tell me what’s up! I love to answer questions! Enjoy the read ~ Jessika

You really should’ve been thinking about your heat cycle much sooner than it being a week away. Sure you’d been getting yourself off more frequently as of late, but that was no problem, a couple sessions with one of your favorite toys and you were set for the rest of the day or at least until you could get home again.

However, now it was getting to the point where you really couldn’t leave the house without a change of panties because of it. There was only so much laundry a girl could do before she loses her mind.

“Just call one of your hybrid friends and bang it out for the weekend, I’ll go home and visit with my family so you can have the apartment all to yourself!”

Your friend, Lisa, said.

She was the God send during this whole experience. She came from a long line of hybrids and she knew all about going through your heat cycle and things of the like. You can’t remember how many times you’d called her in a fit of panic, thinking that your vagina was broken. Thankfully, your girl was still in working condition.

“No, we’d run the risk of mating and I really don’t want to deal with that shit,” you moaned in complaint, already thinking of the failure that was your last heat cycle.

You’d called your friend Namjoon and he accidentally got too involved with you and now things were only finally starting to return to normal. You truly valued a lot of your friendships far too much just to think about fucking getting in the way.

“Well, there is always-”

“No way in fucking hell Lisa,” you growled.

“He’s the only one that’s been through this with you before! I’m sure he’d come to help you out,” she said, leaning back against the couch.

“I’m not calling Chanyeol, I’d rather fuck my vibrators all weekend,” you said, huffing and crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know they’d never finish you off. You know how this works, Y/N,” she said. You groaned in annoyance and leaned your head against the back of your chair.

“I’m going to die of sexual frustration.”

“You won’t be the first young adult to do so.”

---

God you were horny as shit.

And math was boring as fuck. Your vibrators were looking awfully tempting sitting there in the closet while you stared at a bunch of functions that you honestly couldn’t give one shit about. Just as you were about to stand up and abandon your math homework for the night, there was a knock on your door.

“Yeah, come in,” you said, trying to not sound disappointed.

The door swung open to reveal your best friend of seventeen years, Min Yoongi.

“I decide to come all the way here to steal your ice cream and you can’t even sound excited to see me? What the fuck is this?” he said as he sat down on your bed with two spoons and your french vanilla ice cream sat on his lap.

“It’s me wanting to punch my professor in the face because of his stupid assignments,” you growled. Angry at the disruption in your evening plans, and the fact that Yoongi was stealing your ice cream.

Again.

“Something tells me that’s not the only reason,” he said, placing a spoon in front of you, tempting you towards the deliciousness of the frozen treat.

“I’d prefer to not tell you about it,” you said, cringing at the thought of explaining why you were so on edge to Yoongi.

“You on your period or something? Do I have to go buy you tampons again? Last time was a disaster,” he said, laying down on your sheets and stuffing a spoonful of vanilla in his mouth. You scoffed and thought back on that memory.

You’d been in bed all day because of horrible cramping and Lisa was out for the night at a friend’s party. You called Yoongi in a panic because you knew there weren’t any tampons or pads left in the house.

“Yoongi,” you whispered.

“What?” he said back into the phone. “You sound like shit, are you sick?” he asked.

“Kind of,” you said, thinking about the bodily process much more than you feasibly should’ve at the moment.

“Then why are you calling me? Get some rest and text me in the morning for an update,” he said, sounding further away from the phone.

“Hang on! Wait!” you shouted into the phone.

“Jesus fuck, what is it?” he asked, obviously done with your little charade.

“Can you help me please?” you whispered softly.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Did something happen?” he asked, sounding more and more concerned.

“I need you to go to the store and buy me pain killers, tampons and pads... Please,” you begged through the phone.

Silence floated over the receiver for a few moments.

“Yoongi? Min Yoongi? Did he hang up on me?” you asked more to yourself.

“You owe me for this, what kind do you need?”

You remember him stumbling through the door with a bunch of different kinds of feminine hygiene products and a receipt enough to make you faint. But, he insisted that he didn’t mind and offered to stay for the night incase you needed anything else.

Because that’s the kind of friend he was. He’d complain the whole fucking time if he didn’t want to do it, but if it meant something to you, he’d do it regardless.

Yoongi had been your friend for as long as you can remember.

You had gone to the same school together and you two had just sort of clicked. He didn’t really mesh well with other people and you understood that he needed his space. There were night when the two of you had stayed up the whole time and simply spoke about your dreams and what you wanted to do when you were older.

Other times you’d both do different things and not talk as much. Although, you’d never drifted too far away. Yoongi always had a way of showing up when you needed him to.

Prom night when your date had bailed on you and you were left crying in your living room until Yoongi showed up with a shitty bouquet and his mom's car for the night.

When you were certain you didn’t get into college and he appeared with your acceptance letter in hand, saying it was halfway down the street in a tree because of the windstorm from the night before.

“Wake up sleeping beauty,” Yoongi said, snapping his fingers in front of your face. You jumped in surprise. Yoongi gave you a smirk. “You were looking at me with a weird look on your face, think of something actually fun to do?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yoongi,” you said grasping his hands in yours. He gave you a confused look.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“You know I love you right? Being serious,” you said, tightening your grip on his hands.

“Of course. You keep french vanilla in your freezer even though mint chocolate chip is your favorite. You always find a way of making me laugh and you put up with me, not a lot of people would do that kiddo. I love you too, and don’t you forget it,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles soothingly.

You sighed in relief and pulled him in for a tight hug. Yoongi was stunned at first, but quickly melted into your arms and rubbed your back comfortingly.

“Not that I don’t love our mushy moments, but what’s got you so emotional? Are you on your period? Do you have everything you need because I swear to fuck if I have to buy you one more goddamn back of tampons I might just-”

“I’m going into heat soon,” you said, laying all your cards out on the table. Yoongi froze and pulled away from you quickly.

“Like, need to fuck someone to death heat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“Ew, why tell me that?” he whined.

“You’re the one who asked why I was emotional, that’d be why,” you said, shrugging and grabbing the spoon from between his legs and stuffing some ice cream in your mouth.

“Jesus,” he groaned. “I remember your first heat,” he said, laughing to himself. You flushed at the thought.

“Shut up, I don’t want to think of that,” you warned.

“The fact that you couldn’t resist little ole me? God, it was so funny,” he said.

“I would’ve done that to anybody. You try feeling so horny you could die.”

The two of you laughed.

It truly had been a mess. You had invited him over and you suddenly felt a rush of desperation. Suddenly you were stripping and you tripped over your discarded tank top and you wound up crying on your bedroom floor half naked with Yoongi trying desperately to comfort you.

“Man, no thanks. I don’t envy being you,” he said, chuckling.

“I think I’ll just get some suppressants. It’ll suck next time, but hey, at least hopefully by then I’ll have someone to help me,” you said, getting quiet.

“I still want to kill that fucker,” he growled, pulling you towards his chest. You sighed and shook your head.

“He isn’t worth it, I don’t even want to think about him,” you said.

The rest of the night the two of you were silent, just sitting in each others company.

---

The morning your heat was supposed to start you popped a couple suppressants.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lisa shouted after you swallowed the pills.

“I can’t have it now, Lisa, if I do I’ll wind up doing something I regret,” you said, reaching for your backpack.

“Y/N, you know those aren’t good for you. Half the time they don’t even work!” she yelled.

“Those are only if you use them frequently. The last time I used these was, like, five or six years ago. Calm your tits Lisa, I’ll be fine. Have fun this weekend with your family, love you bye!” you yelled, just barely escaping on of her famous lectures.

You could already feel your sex drive going down and the relief of a clear head taking over.

---

Class went by uneventfully. You turned in your homework and was on your way out when you collided with somebody.

“Oh, sorry!” a sweet voice rang out.

“That’s okay I should’ve been paying attention-” you said, standing up.

“Oh... Hey, Y/N,” Chanyeol’s voice rang through your ears.

Suddenly you were thrown back into that night.

The night you came home to find him fucking another girl and boy in your living room.

How he looked at you while he was balls deep in another woman and had the audacity to ask if you wanted to join them.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you growled, turning your back on him quickly and heading down the hall.

“Y/N, wait,” he shouted, running after you.

“Kiss my ass, Chanyeol,” you said, turning a corner quickly. He rushed after you and grabbed your wrist.

“You know I’d love to baby,” he said, pulling you towards him.

“I thought I told you to not touch me,” you said, wrenching your arm back.

“Can we just talk without you running in the other direction? I want to talk to you,” he said, sounding sincere. You sighed, and against your better judgment, stayed put.

“Fine, what?” you asked.

“I fucked up, I get that. I should’ve been more upfront about my desires and maybe we could’ve worked something out, but we should’ve done it together and not just me on my own trying to figure myself out. I’m sorry,” he said.

Desires...

You shuddered involuntarily at the word, a hot rush flooding your system. You shook your head and cleared your throat.

“Yes, you should have. Anything else?” you growled, looking at him like he was a roach with your boot’s name on him.

“Listen, I was thinking maybe we could try again. I really care about you, and we had a good time together. Life has been shitty since you left and I want to make more memories with you... Please baby, think about it. Think about us,” he said, reaching out to hold your face in his hands.

You remember his touch. How warm and inviting it used to be. How many nights had you fallen asleep in his arms with feather light kisses being placed upon your head.

How many times had he helped you with your heat?

Heat.

It was so hot...

You removed his hands from your face and tried to focus on the situation.

“Chanyeol, listen to yourself. What we had was good, yes, but you fucked that all up when you started going behind my back and lying to me. Right to my fucking face, might I add. How am I supposed to trust you after that? After all that? I’ll never be able to feel secure with you. I’ll always feel like you’re not telling me the truth. I don’t want to be in that kind of relationship, Chanyeol. Not with anybody,” you stated, saying your peace.

He sighed and looked down at his boots.

“I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I understand. I am truly sorry Y/N, I hope one day you can forgive me,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and went to move past him when a sudden rush of heat went through you, causing you to buckle and grip your stomach in pain.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he asked, reaching towards you. Aggressively, you shoved him back and stood up shakily.

“Get, away from me,” you panted, gripping your stomach. You slowly slid down the wall and pressed your head against the cool brick.

“What’s wrong? Is it your stomach?” he asked, crouching beside you.

“I-I told you, to get away from me,” you said weakly.

“Wait, Y/N, when was your last heat?” he asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“None of your fucking business,” you growled, struggling to stand up.

“I can help you, I’ll take you home. Is Lisa there?” he asked. You sighed and stood up before starting to stalk down the hall, every once in a while gripping the wall for balance.

“Like hell I’d let you touch me like that ever again. You can go fuck yourself Chanyeol,” you said, walking out of the school.

---

You fell through the front door of your apartment and threw your bag on the floor.

All you needed was a few more suppressants. That’s all it was.

Slowly, you approached the counter where a little note sat.

Hey,

I threw out those danger pills.

Fuck it out of your system,

Love you bye!

Lisa

You gasped as another rush of heat flooded your system and you collapsed to the floor. It hurt so badly. You needed something.

Before you knew it your fingers were dialling the most familiar number.

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s voice echoed through the phone.

“Yoongi,” you moaned in agony.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright?” he asked.

“Help me, please,” you begged, tugging on your clothes desperately.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“It hurts, Yoongi, please help me,” you pleaded.

“I’m on my way, hang on,” he said through the phone. The line went dead and you placed your forehead on the cool floor.

All you could think about was how badly you needed to be sorted out. You wanted it.

It hurt.

You tossed and turned on the floor, trying to find a comfortable position. The most comfortable position you could be in right now would be with a cock shoved deep in your weeping pussy.

Your stomach was on fire. The raw need in your core was miserable.

There was a ringing throughout the apartment.

“Y/N? Y/N! Babe!” Yoongi’s voice shouted as he ran towards you. “Babe? Are you alright, hey, look at me?” he pleaded, bringing you into his arms.

“Yoongi, please, help me,” you pleaded grabbing his forearms.

“You’re flushed, what’s going on? You’re burning up,” he said, placing his hands on your face.

“H-Heat,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. Yoongi’s face paled as he looked down at you.

“Oh fucking shit,” he said, picking you up and carrying you to your room.

It was so hot, you just wanted to take off your clothes. Preferably with someone else taking your clothes off. Yoongi set you down slowly and placed his hand on your forehead.

“You’re burning up babe,” he said, more to himself. You grabbed his jacket collar and pulled him towards you, wanting the sensation of skin on skin.

“Yoongi, take your clothes off,” you whined, not enjoying the feeling of his denim jacket on your fingers.

“Hang on, Y/N,” he said, getting your finger untangled from his clothing. You watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and rapidly dialed a number.

“Yoongi? Why are you calling me?” Lisa’s voice rang through the phone.

“Lisa it’s hot!” you complained, pulling your jacket off.

“Lisa, what the fuck do I do with her?” Yoongi said, angrily.

“Um, fuck her probably,” she said with an unamused tone.

“Yeah, next option,” Yoongi growled.

“Sorry, sorry. Just saying, that’s the easiest option.”

“Lisa,” he said, growing impatient.

“Alright, I give. I threw out her suppressants because they were old and I didn’t want her taking those. But you could always go to the store and buy her some new ones, I don’t know how much they’re going to work. How far in is she?”

Yoongi looked at you, sweating on the bed and features flushed.

“She’s not looking good, I’ll tell you that much,” he said, rubbing his face.

“It might be too late then,” she announced.

“Too late for what?” Yoongi asked, looking down at you with concern.

“If the heat cycle has already started then she needs to be taken care of,” Lisa explained, sounding more worried than a few moments ago.

“What do you want me to do then? Who should I call?!” he yelled into the phone.

“Call Chanyeol, he’s the only one who knows what to do with her,” she said, deathly serious.

“No... I’d rather... die,” you said, gripping your stomach.

“She’s refusing,” Yoongi stated.

“She’s refusing? What do you mean? Girls on their heat don’t refuse anybody! It’s a biological function, she needs to have sex with someone!”

The word sex triggered something in you and suddenly the pain had doubled.

“Yoongi, it hurts,” you moaned, reaching out for him desperately.

“It’s alright, Y/N, just hang on. We’ll figure this out,” he said, smoothing your hair.

“I-I don’t want to have sex with Chanyeol... Please don’t make me,” you begged, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“No baby, I won’t,” he comforted.

“Yoongi, you need to do something and fast,” Lisa warned.

“Well what the fuck do I do? Can’t I just give her a toy and let that be that?”

“No, girls need the release of a man to ease the pain. It’s the only way the natural process can be ebbed.”

“Fucking hell, of course it is,” Yoongi complained.

“Yoongi, either you call Chanyeol and let him sort her out, or you do it yourself,” Lisa said before hanging up.

“Lisa? Lisa! Fucking bitch!” he yelled, throwing his phone on the floor.

It was silent in the room, other than your heavy breathing.

Yoongi couldn’t think about it... He knew that if he took that step your friendship would never be the same. He couldn’t lose you, never. It’d break him.

But, he couldn’t let Chanyeol do this either.

“Y-Yoongi, please,” you begged, reaching for him. He sighed and placed his hand on your head.

“Y/N, do you want me to call Chanyeol, or do you want me to take care of you?” he offered, petting your hair soothingly.

“You, Yoongi. You’ll help me, you always do,” you whimpered.

“And you’re aware of how I’m going to help you, right?”

“Yoongi, cut the shit and take off your clothes,” you said weakly.

He scrambled to comply, pulling his jacket off and his shirt, revealing his chest to you. You pulled off your shirt as well, throwing it onto the floor and reaching out for your best friend. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head tenderly.

“I’m going to make this all go away, alright? I’ll help you in anyway I can, forever,” he said. You smiled and ran your hands down his back, already feeling relief from the skin on skin contact.

“Yoongi,” you whimpered into his ear. He sighed and kissed your jawline tenderly, sucking on the sensitive skin there. You moaned softly at the contact and gripped his shoulders tightly.

“Lie back for me, yeah?” he asked. You eagerly complied, laying down on your back and watching as Yoongi crawled towards you. He unzipped your shorts and pulled them down your legs quickly, not wanting to keep you waiting.

Finally your pants were off and Yoongi looked at your center. You were fucking drenched. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he should feel embarrassed or turned on at the sight in front of him. You grabbed the edge of your panties and pulled them off of yourself, flinging the offending material somewhere else. Yoongi watched and flushed red. He’d seen you in various states of undress in the past, but never something to this scale.

He couldn’t help himself from leaning forward towards your center and placing a soft kiss right above your aching clit.

“Yoongi, don’t tease me, please,” you pleaded.

“Um, are you particularly sensitive down here? I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over your aching center.

“Yoongi if your don’t eat me out right now I’m going to choke you out with my thighs, hurry up!” you whined. He nodded and quickly dove in. You gasped in pleasure and tangled your fingers in his hair. Yoongi licked your center tentatively, wanting nothing more than to help his friend.

Even if it meant doing less than ‘friendly’ activities with you.

“Is this right? Do you like it like-hmmf!” Yoongi exclaimed as you wrapped your thighs around his shoulders and pulled him back to your center.

“Whatever you do to me I’ll like, please, just get on with it,” you moaned. Yoongi nodded and went back to your center. Licking a long stripe up your slit with his warm tongue had you gripping the sheets in pleasure.

He groaned slightly at the taste of you on his tongue, he had no idea you’d taste this good. It was almost worrying how much he was actually starting to enjoy this. You were his best friend, and you needed his help right now. That’s all this was. Just a friend helping his friend. But, he couldn’t deny how sweet you tasted and how every moan you made sent a jolt straight to his groin.

The pressure in his jeans was becoming too much to ignore at this point. Yoongi pressed a sweet kiss to your clit before raising to his knees and undoing the button and zipper on his jeans.

You flew up to pull your bra off while Yoongi struggled to get his skinny jeans off. You couldn’t help but giggle at the two of you, struggling to get out of your clothes like Virgin teens. Yoongi glared down at his pant leg as he wound up having to sit on the floor to get it off.

“God, now I know why women wear skirts, they’re ten times easier to get off than these stupid pants,” he complained, throwing the jeans to the other side of the room. He stood up and you saw the tent in his boxers.

“Come here,” you begged, reaching out for him. Yoongi crawled back onto the bed and wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Y/N, I’m nervous,” he whispered into your hair.

“I am too, but, I feel like I might die if I don’t have you right now,” you breathed against his neck. He shuddered at the sensation of your warm breath across his skin.

“I’m going to make it go away, alright? I’ll help you, always,” he said, without looking at you. You smiled slightly. He’d never say anything like that to your face. He was far too embarrassed of himself already. You bit your lip, trying to fight back the childish smile that was threatening to cross your face. But, the reality of the situation hit back full force.

The searing pain in your stomach wrenched through you like a freight train.

“Ah!” you screamed, holding yourself in hopes of making the pain lessen.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Yoongi asked, touching your head.

“I-I need you, now. Hurry up, Yoongi, please,” you pleaded. He nodded and removed his boxers, letting his erection spring free. Your eyes widened at the sight of it. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever seen, nor was he the smallest. However, the way the veins wrapped around his length and how red the tip was, you couldn’t believe how clear headed he was still.

“Condom,” he mumbled to himself before going towards his jeans again.

“No,” you stopped him by grabbing his wrist. He gave you a quizzical look.

“As much as I care about you I’m not risking you getting pregnant,” he stated firmly.

“I won’t, we aren’t mating. B-but I need your, uh... I need you to finish inside me for the heat t-to end,” you said, blushing madly.

“Oh, Lisa did say something about that didn’t she...” Yoongi trailed off, looking at his jeans once more before looking back towards you. “Alright,” he said, opening your legs and shuffling between them. He teased you by rubbing his cock up and down your slit to get it wet.

“Please,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers. Yoongi simply nodded before guiding himself with his other hand and pushing forwards, his length slowly being wrapped in your tight heat.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, letting his head drop slowly. You moaned loudly at the sensation of being filled so entirely. The pain in your weeping core being replaced by innumerable amounts of pleasure. He could feel your walls tightening around him, wanting more and more.

He gives the two of you a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being connected like this. Yoongi never thought that he would ever be in this position with you, but God was it hard to just think of you as his friend right now. You looked so good with his cock inside of you... Your sweet pussy stretching to accommodate his girth. The sight was almost enough to send him over, but he looked towards the ceiling, trying not to focus on the erotic scene displayed before him.

“Yoongi,” you whined, tightening your grip on his hand.

“You good?” he asked, looking down at you. The thought of you being in pain helping to stave off his pleasure clouded mind. You nodded furiously, the very prospect of him stopping enough to make you panic.

“I’m so good. God you feel so good inside me, please don’t stop,” you pleaded. Yoongi groaned at your phrasing and bucked his hips forwards in response. You groaned at the sensations sparking inside of you. Finally, you could feel your heat ebbing at act of being filled so completely.

“Jesus, fuck... You’re so tight,” Yoongi moaned. He couldn’t believe he was there. Fucking his best friend of his whole life. He was worried that it’d be to awkward for him to enjoy. Boy was he wrong. The feeling of you tightening around him and gripping his cock, your body practically begging him to keep going. The soft whimpers that you were letting out as he continued to move his hips into you.

“Yoongi, please, harder,” you begged, gripping his shoulder.

“You want it harder? You sure?” he questioned in a teasing manner.

“I swear to God if you don’t start doing more work I’m going to use you for my own pleasure,” you growled, digging your nails into his porcelain flesh. He grunted at the burn of his skin being torn open, but it only egged him towards his decision.

“Alright babe, you asked for it. Don’t complain to me if you can’t walk for the next few days,” he chuckled before picking up his pace.

“Girls don’t like cocky men in the bedroom,” you stated before letting out a sharp yelp towards a particularly hard thrust.

“You seem to be enjoying it,” Yoongi teased, leaning forwards and placing wet kisses on your collarbone. You wanted to be sassy and tell him to shove it, but all you could do was mewl at the warm tingle that his lips left on your skin.

Yoongi’s pace was brutal and unforgiving as he plowed into you like it was his only prerogative. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin was so loud it challenged your screams you were letting loose in response to Yoongi’s dick continuing to ravage your aching womanhood.

“Fuck baby, I’m close,” Yoongi groaned into your hair while he grabbed your breast harshly and twisted your nipple in a pleasurable manner.

“Oh, shit! Give it to me,” you pleaded, grabbing his shoulders as he rocked into you with brusing strength.

When you saw Yoongi shirtless you’d never thought he’d be this strong. But you could already tell that you were in for some serious bruising once the heat had subsided, and the adrenaline from your actions had finally worn off. Although you were still on cloud nine at the moment, feeling everything from Yoongi’s fingers rubbing your throat in a tempting manner and the way that he played with your breasts. It was too much. Too much stimulation, and you were so close... But he needed to finish first...

“Yoongi, cum inside me, please,” you begged, gripping his hand that was on your breast.

“I-I’m working on it,” he groaned, kissing you desperately before his thrusts began to get less precise. His cock was throbbing harshly inside of you.

“Please, Yoongi,” you whined, gripped his shoulder. He gasped and kissed your jawline gently.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming,” he grit out.

Yoongi’s whole body tensed and you felt a piercing heat flood your womanhood. Finally, the aching sensation in your lower body released and you cried out once more as an aftershock trembled through you. You clenched involuntarily around his length, pulling more of him inside of yourself. A choked off gasp escaped him as he rested his head your shoulder, panting into your neck. You brought your hand up and ran your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner.

Silence fell over the two of you as the high of your orgasms began to melt away, and reality came crashing down on you.

You had just had sex with your best friend since childhood.

However you couldn’t find yourself regretting it. You trusted Yoongi more than a majority of the people in your life. He had treated you with care and helped you when you needed him.

Yoongi brought you back to the reality by kissing your shoulder and up to your lips, placing delicate pecks to your lips. You smiled lightly and wrapped your arms around his neck giving him a proper kiss. He rested his hands on your hips and rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs.

Finally, Yoongi pulled out and walked into your bathroom to grab a washcloth. When he returned he cleaned you up and threw the dirtied cloth into your laundry. You reached out your arms for him and he crawled back into bed with you.

“Y/N,” he started after a couple minutes.

“Yeah?” you answered, keeping your eyes closed.

“Are we still friends?”

“Can we be more than friends?”

“Will you buy me more vanilla ice cream?”

“Yeah.”

“Then sure.”

You smiled when Yoongi placed a kiss on your lips. However, the kiss caused the stirring in your lower stomach to come back with a vengeance.

“Yoongi, it hurts again,” you whined, gripping your stomach.

“Already?!”

3K notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 7 years ago

Text

Lotus pt. 9 (Batjokes)

Author’s note: I wrote this chapter on a different computer, so forgive me if there are any typos as I’m not entirely used to the keyboard just yet. Hope you guys enjoy this part, and as always, thanks so much for being an amazing audience. I really appreciate the support. :)

From Waller’s POV

GCPD, COMMISSIONER’S OFFICE

“Any updates on Wayne or your agents?” Gordon asked, taking a sip of coffee. The man was finally back in his usual uniform, and the commissioner’s badge shone ever so brightly on the fabric of his coat as the steam from his mug fogged his glasses.

“They found Avesta,” I replied grimly, “but she’s been severely injured -- blinded by Wayne, apparently. As for the man himself, two of my agents are bringing him back for interrogation as we speak. I believe they just arrived, in fact.”

“Good. That bastard needs to answer for what he’s done.” the Commissioner scoffed. “Heh, bet he doesn’t feel so clever now. That’s the problem with most of these freaks. They’re too arrogant -- makes it inevitable for them to screw up eventually. Batman told me that when Riddler first attacked the Virago. I guess he was right.”

The urge to reveal the truth nearly took control of me again, and I felt terrible keeping such a secret from Gordon, but I held back and carried on the conversation, furrowing my brow in thought.

“Perhaps, but I can’t shake the feeling that this could all be a trap. Wayne practically invited us to capture him with that video, and Riddler’s water tower isn’t exactly a secret location anymore. Why would he make such a blatant move in broad daylight? Especially with the Agency and police on his tail? The only logical explanation is that he wanted us to bring him here. Either that, or he’s really just that stupid.”

Gordon tugged at his collar, not quite used to the nicotine patch yet. “Sadly, I doubt it. I’ve done research on Wayne in the past, and trust me -- the man’s much smarter than he looks.”

A third, strangely familiar voice joined in. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Curious to see who had walked in, I had to look twice when I found Agent Harrison standing next to Bruce’s old butler, Alfred, acting as if everything was perfectly normal. I gaped at him for a moment, thrown off-guard by the sudden appearance.

“...Alfred Pennyworth?” I said, glancing at Harrison for answers.

“He showed up at the water tower during our mission,” Harrison quickly replied. “Saved Blake’s life too, in fact. He’s the only reason we managed to capture Lazarus.”

I shook hands with the butler, beaming at him. “Then I owe you my thanks. Speaking of Blake, where is he?”

The agent gestured outside. “He’s taking Bruce to the interrogation room right now.”

“Great. Then I’ll head there immediately. Gordon, I’m gonna need your help with this one. I get the feeling Wayne isn’t going to give in so easily, and I’d like to have company in case the man snaps.”

Alfred stopped me. “Err -- actually, if you don’t mind, Director, I’d like to have a word with you first. Alone.”

I halted in my tracks, eager to hear what the butler had to say. “...Very well. I can spare a few minutes. Gordon, Harrison -- give us a moment, would you?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Harrison said, promptly heading out the exit as Gordon grabbed his mug and followed him. Before shutting the door, the Commissioner turned around to say one last thing.

“I’ll meet you at the interrogation room, Waller. Just lemme know when you’re ready.”

I gave him a firm nod. “Will do.”

Taking his leave, Gordon disappeared from sight while Alfred set his hunting rifle down -- as one does -- and looked at me, clearly heartbroken over what was happening. I decided to broach the subject in a more delicate manner, softening my tone.

“Forgive me for being blunt, Mr. Pennyworth, but if I recall correctly -- didn’t you leave Gotham?”

Alfred placed his hands behind his back, straightening his posture. “I did, yes.”

“What brought you back?”

The butler took a second to answer. “Well, Bruce, mainly. But also Tiffany.”

I was a bit surprised at the response. “Tiffany? You mean Agent Fox?”

“Yes, she contacted me whilst I was away, you see. Kept me updated on everything that was occurring in Gotham, including Bruce’s battle with Lotus. She informed me of every single step: Bruce’s infection, his death...” Alfred’s voice faltered slightly on that word, “and now, his resurrection. At first, I intended to stay far away from this city, but after hearing about all the heinous things Bruce has done...”

He took a calming breath, subtly clenching his fist. “...I just couldn’t ignore it. As much as it pains me to be back, Bruce is my son, Director. And I’m not a coward -- at least, I don’t want to be. Not anymore. It’s my job, as a father and a friend, to stop Bruce’s reign of terror. If you’ll allow me to help, I would gladly lend a hand.”

“I appreciate the assistance,” I told him, “but you don’t have to do this. I imagine it’s hard enough to watch Bruce lose his mind. I won’t force you to fight your own family as well.”

Alfred persisted. “No one’s forcing anybody. Consider accepting my help as repayment for saving your agent’s life.”

“About that,” I pointed out, “how did you find my agents?”

He walked me through the process like it was nothing. “To be frank, I was actually searching for Bruce originally. I pinpointed his location at the water tower using the Batcomputer, and once I heard that one of your agents had gone missing -- I put two and two together. Something was clearly wrong, so I jumped in to help.”

I chuckled. “I can certainly see where Bruce gets his skills from. I kind of wish he had less. Well...all right. If you’re sure about it, both the Agency and the GCPD would happily welcome your aid.”

“I am.”

I flashed a smile. “Then it’s settled. If we ever have a problem we need solving that requires your expertise, you’ll be the first one to know.”

Alfred returned the smile. “Thank you, Director. The last thing I want for Bruce is to be locked away in a padded cell, but I can’t bear to watch anymore people get hurt, or see Bruce betray his code.”

“...You heard what he said at the address?” I asked.

“About killing Batman? I did.” Alfred’s head drooped in sorrow, staring at the floor. “...I won’t lie, Director. This war against ‘Lazarus’ is going to be a punishing one, indeed. Much like yourself, Bruce is a powerful ally, and an even more dangerous enemy. If we want to avoid anymore death, we’ll have to finish this as quickly as possible.”

Wandering over to the door, I opened it and gestured for Alfred to follow, taking him to Bruce. “Then let’s head down and speak to Lazarus himself. I imagine he has a thing or two to say.”

From Bruce’s POV

Fluttering my eyes open, I found myself sitting in what appeared to be an Agency vehicle, and I could feel handcuffs scraping at my wrists. The car was currently stopped in front of GCPD, and leading up all the way to the front door, I saw police officers patrolling the area around it, ready to detain me in case I tried to bolt. Little did they know, the only reason they managed to capture me in the first place...was because I let them.

Disturbing the silence, an agent suddenly yanked the car’s door open and ordered me to get out, their tone rough with rage. It was Agent Blake. I smirked at him, calmly stepping out of the vehicle.

“Such a gentleman.”

Blake’s expression flattened with annoyance as he firmly held onto my arm, guiding me to the police station.

“And here I was hoping you’d invoke your right to silence.”

“No,” I said dramatically, “...I’ve been silent for far too long.”

Shoving me up the short staircase that led into the precinct, Blake dragged me through the double-doors and practically hurled me inside, grabbing the attention of all the other police officers as I was taken to the interrogation room.

All throughout the corridor, cops and agents alike both glared at me with despair in their eyes, almost as if asking me “why.” Some of them even refused to look at me, and as I was paraded through the halls, I could feel their intense gazes nailing onto my back. I glanced at Blake, whispering something in his ear.

“Well done, Blake. You’ve captured the most wanted man in Gotham on the very same day he earned that title. You must be proud.”

He grimaced. “This has nothing to do with pride, Lazarus. I’m just making sure you get the justice you deserve.”

I chuckled at that, afterwards letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Oh...you remind me of myself, not too long ago. A little boy who was naive enough to believe the world would reward him for his good deeds. Instead though, all he got in return was betrayal.”

Blake said nothing in return, and so I continued.

“It’s remarkable, how fast people can change, isn’t it...? Just yesterday, your beautiful Avesta was able to see all the light in the world, no matter how much the shadows threatened to consume it. Now though...she sees nothing but shadows. And her last memory of the world will forever be me, holding a knife up to her face as she begs for mercy. Tell me, how does that make you feel, Blake?”

“Just shut up!” He demanded in a hushed tone. “You’re lucky the Director wanted you alive. Otherwise, you'd be in a body bag by now.”

I gave him a warning look, refraining myself from smiling. “Careful, Blake. That fire inside you...it’s the same one I carry. Fan it too much, and you might hurt yourself.”

He shook his head. “You and I are nothing alike.”

“No?” I questioned. “Whether a flame is red or blue, it still burns, doesn’t it? I keep telling you people, that’s the universe playing with us. It manipulates you into thinking that just because you act with the law, it means everything you do is for the greater good. Why don’t you keep that in mind, the next time you kill a man who fights for the same reason. You’d be surprised how much different types of people have in common.”

INTERROGATION ROOM

Waiting in the dimly lit room, I remained handcuffed in a metal chair as distant footsteps approached from down the hall, heading in my direction. This was the same room where Montoya was interrogated after killing Falcone a year ago, and I couldn’t deny that my heart ached slightly at the thought of Harvey.

Mayor Dent was just another prime example of me giving everything to this city, and then having it thrown back in my face as a reward. I supported his campaign to reshape Gotham for the better, fought against corrupt pigs like Hill, and even helped him with his personal life, only to watch my friend lose his mind and end up in Arkham Asylum.

I guessed the same thing was happening to me now. Except this time, I wouldn’t rot away in some dark cell. Either Gotham would burn to the ground by my hand, or I would burn with it.

Slamming the doors open, Waller suddenly marched into the room alongside Gordon while some other agents gathered behind a window on the wall, observing the interrogation. Among them, I spotted Agents Blake, Harrison, and--

...No, I thought to myself. It was impossible. Was that...was that Alfred? What was that traitor doing here? When did he even return?

Wait a minute. During my fight with Blake, I remembered someone shooting me...but the bullet didn’t come from an Agency pistol, did it? No, it must’ve been from a rifle.

A pang of realization hit me.

Alfred was the one who shot me, wasn’t he? Not only did that bastard abandon me, he had come back to finish the job. Well, the old man certainly had guts -- I’d give him that -- but he was going to regret ever setting foot in Gotham again. I remembered every crime committed against me, and I certainly hadn’t forgotten his. Batman may have been dead, but that didn’t mean justice was.

Pretending not to see Alfred for the moment, I focused my attention on Waller and Gordon, giving them a lazy grin as I relaxed in the chair.

“So, a couple hundred deaths is all it took to get you two working together, huh? About damn time. What’s the mustache doing here?”

“He’s been reinstated,” Waller said sternly, crossing her arms. “In other words, We’re no longer fighting by ourselves.”

I smirked. “Good to know. I like a bit of variety when it comes to my targets. You get bored of going after the same kinds of people. That’s why Batman will always be my most memorable kill.”

The color in Gordon’s face drained a little at that, and I could’ve sworn I saw him gulp.

“I know it’s difficult to process,” I said somberly. “Batman was actually a close friend of mine too, you know? I used to look up to the vigilante, in fact. Did everything I could to become like him, growing up. But it was never enough. The crime in Gotham was relentless, and Batman looked at it all wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Gordon barked, sounding defensive.

A more vengeful mood took hold of me, and I glared at the Commissioner.

“Look around you, Gordon. There are no such things as heroes or villains in this city. There is no good or evil. Gotham...is the evil, and I’m doing the rest of the world a favor by wiping it off the goddamn map!”

“Enough!” Waller pounded her fist on the table, causing Gordon to back off a bit. “You mentioned you had bombs hidden all over the city earlier. Where are they? Where are you keeping them?”

A light chuckle escaped me. “Oh, but that defeats the whole point of the search, Director. You can’t just expect the world to hand you things for free. Hell, it hardly hands you anything even when you pay.”

Gordon scoffed. “As if a billionaire like you would know what it means to pay.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about money, Commissioner, but nice to see you’re still involved in the interrogation. For a moment there, I thought you were actually letting Waller take the wheel. Now wouldn’t that be a twist? But I suppose that wouldn’t be the only twist today, would it?”

Springing up from my chair, the sudden movement made Waller and Gordon jump as I lurked towards the window, staring straight through the glass and directly at Alfred with a deathly gaze.

“Isn’t that right...Alfred?” I snarled, almost sounding feral. “What, have you finally come back to fix your mistake?”

The butler gave me a melancholic look. “You are anything but a mistake, Bruce. You are my son.”

Taking a step backwards, I laughed at the statement.

“Your son? Pfft. I wasn’t aware that a father was supposed to abandon his child, but...you’re right, Al. You’re right. None of this is a mistake. All of this is meant to be...”

Stealthily slipping a Phalanx Key out of my back pocket, I positioned my finger over the button and spun around to face Waller, amused at her bewildered expression.

“I gave you the chance to leave Gotham without any bloodshed, Director, but you refused to take it. Now...you’ll pay the price. By tomorrow, this entire city will be under my control...and guess what? There’s shit you can do to stop it.”

Activating the key, an alarm instantly began to wail throughout the station as red lights flashed on the walls, alerting the officers of a security breach. Blake cursed from behind the window, obviously noticing what I had just done.

“Oh, shit!”

Waller’s eyes practically bulged out their sockets.

“What is it?!” She yelled. “What just happened?”

“This was a trap!” Blake exclaimed. “He just unlocked Bane’s cell! He’s broken free!”

Listening closely through the door’s thick material, I could already hear Bane’s signature roar rumbling not too far away from me as the beast made a beeline for the interrogation room, ripping apart everything in his path. Panicked shrieks and agonized gurgles filled the corridors, and the havoc made my heart race with excitement.

“You know Bane’s favorite saying, Director,” I recited as the colossal man approached. “A man cannot win a war alone.”

Smashing the room’s doors down as if they were paper, Bane barged through the wall and sent debris flying everywhere, shattering the observation window with a sharp crack.

Gordon and Waller tried to put the monstrosity down on their own, but before they could even fire a shot, Bane had already flung them to the side like rag-dolls, hurling them against the walls just as he did to Batman.

“Perfect timing, Bane.” I praised him, remaining seated. He stomped over and tore my handcuffs apart with a single tug, setting me free.

Stretching my arms and neck for a second, I reached down and snatched Gordon’s gun from his belt before sauntering towards the room’s exit with Bane, the two of us prowling outside to raise some hell as the alarms continued to blare.

“Let’s get to work.”

From John’s POV

GCPD

“What’s that noise?” Willy asked me, peering through the car’s windshield. I shushed him, observing the police station.

“It’s an alarm, you idiot! It means something’s gone wrong. ...Wait, you don’t think it could be because of Bruce, do you? What if he already escaped on his own? I wouldn’t be surprised. That guy’s always two steps ahead.”

“Uhh, I think he did, boss,” Frank suggested, pointing at a peculiar man who was hijacking a car. “Either that, or that guy looks identical to Bruce.”

Following Frank’s line of sight, I squinted my eyes and examined the escapee’s face, instantly recognizing his marred skin and sleek, black hair. It looked like Bane was in his company, and the two of them were working together, but he didn’t join Bruce in the car. Instead, Bane fled in his own direction -- probably to divert the cops -- and his partner started the vehicle.

“IT’S HIM!” I shouted ecstatically, taking hold of the steering wheel and gearshift. “Hold on, fellas! This is about to be one heck of a ride! AHAHA!”

Flooring my foot on the gas, I sent the car soaring as Bruce took off like a bat out of hell, leaving skid marks behind him while a number of policemen attempted to keep up with his speed. There was no way I’d be able to catch Bruce for myself at this rate, and the cops were only going to be a hinderance for both of us.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed my machine gun and shoved it into Willy’s hands, pointing at the police cars.

“Goddamn cops...shoot them, Willy! Get ‘em off of Bruce’s tail! I’ll focus on catching up to him!”

Nearly levitating off the road, I avidly chased after Bruce like a homing missile and gradually gained on him, trying my best to corner him somehow as Willy fired at the cops. To help out a bit, I occasionally rammed the side of the vehicle against theirs, causing them to swerve into streetlights and buildings as civilians threw themselves out of the way.

“This better be worth it!” I groaned. “That was a beautiful paint job!”

Speeding up a little, I sent the car blazing over the street’s surface and mentally targeted Bruce with crosshairs, sliding opening the sun roof in advance.

“Whoa--” Frank blurted out, “--what’re you doin’, boss?!”

“Doing your job for you,” I retorted, taking out my grapple gun. “But don’t worry about me, kids. I learned from the best!”

Continuing to race after Bruce, I kept him in my sights while Willy finished off the last of the police, clearing the road for me. There were explosions blowing up left and right around us, and it looked like something you’d see in a movie. Despite all the damage we were dealing to my car though, I couldn’t help but be exhilarated by the pandemonium. It was the perfect type of mayhem, and the commotion only motivated me further.

“...Almost there...” I mumbled through bared teeth. With the cops gone, it was just me and Bruce now, zooming through Gotham’s streets like a pair of madmen as the distance closed between us. Though, I guessed that’s exactly what we were.

“...Almost gotcha...”

Driving as fast as I could, the outside view flashed into a blur while I bolted by, closing in on Bruce. Our bumpers were nearly touching at this point, and up ahead, I saw a secluded alleyway coming into view. This was the perfect spot to confront him. I aimed the grapple gun upwards.

“...NOW!”

Slamming down on the brakes, I came to a screeching halt and ejected myself through the top like Batman, landing right onto the top of Bruce’s car.

For a moment, the man swerved in confusion and poked his head out the window before noticing me, causing him to try and shake me off. I managed to latch on even with all the erratic movement for quite a while, and when Bruce realized I wasn’t going away, he drifted into a complete stop, slingshotting me forwards.

Crashing to the ground like an injured pigeon, I fell with a clumsy “oof!” and squashed face-down into the pavement directly next to a dumpster, letting out a pained groan.

“...Eeuugghh...” I moaned, struggling to get up, “...who the hell taught you to drive...?”

After taking a second to catch my breath, I weakly rolled over and found an extremely pissed-off Bruce towering above me, his sharp eyes almost sizzling with anger.

“Hey,” I said defensively, “I tried my best, okay?”

The other man wasted no time in hauling me into the air by the neck, gripping furiously tight.

“Why are you following me?” He questioned austerely.

“What d’you mean? Why wouldn’t I? You’re my best enemy, Bruce, and I’m the villain of your dreams! We were meant to be! You can’t keep arch-enemies like us apart...! It just...wouldn’t make any sense. After all, the caped vigilante needs someone to fight, even if you’ve declared him dead.”

“I didn’t declare Batman dead,” he corrected. “People like you murdered him!”

He rammed me into the ground, pinning me down with his own weight. “You infected me! You put this...poison inside me! Everything I’ve ever fought for, everyone I’ve ever loved -- it’s all lost because of you!”

I held up my hands protectively.

“In my defense, I never meant for this to happen, Bruce. It’s just -- you hurt me real bad on the bridge with your betrayal, y’know. I only wanted you to feel my pain. I wanted to...to be loved by you. Harley putting a ding in your gas mask was never part of the plan! The last thing I wanted was to infect my best buddy, and I...I was heartbroken when they said you died, Bruce. Really.”

Bruce released his grip on my neck, throwing my head down. “I don’t care what you meant. I would’ve given you everything, John. Anything you wanted -- I would’ve done whatever it took to make you happy. But instead, you took my love and twisted it into something ugly and wrong...!”

I blinked away some tears, desperately looking up at him.

“...Ugly? Wrong? B-But I thought -- I thought I was your light outside of Arkham.”

Bruce froze at that statement, and for the first time in forever, a spark of warmth ignited within his dead stare. He stumbled over his words, completely thrown off-guard.

“...w-what? How do you...how do you know about...”

I gave him a genuine smile, my heart floating with contentment. “The music box, Bruce. I saw it. Read the inscription, listened to the melody...the whole shebang. I keep it in a very special place in my office now -- right next to your doll -- and I play the music all day long. It truly is...beautiful. It calms me down when things get too stressful, and it also gives me company when...when I get lonely.”

Bruce seemed puzzled. “...Lonely? Don’t you have Harley?”

My lips sank into a frown. “Well...yeah, but she doesn’t care about me the same way you do. She only cares if there’s something in it for her. You though...you stood up to the Director of the Agency herself when she tried to shoot me. No one’s ever stuck their neck out like that for me before. No one. It’s why I can’t let you go. It’s why...I love you, Bruce.”

He appeared entirely paralyzed at the confession and remained motionless, unsure of how to react. There was distress written all over his face, and for just a split-second, I saw the old Bruce come out as he gazed at me longingly, acting as if he were about to say he loved me in return.

Did he still feel the same way about me as he did before Lotus came along? I mean, if the Riddler could remember his past after all those years, surely there had to be something of the old Bruce left in there, right? It had only been what, a few days? It would be impossible for a bond as strong as ours to just...vanish that quickly. I mindlessly held my breath, anxiously waiting for a response.

Before Bruce could utter a word however, police sirens cried in the distance and interrupted our talk, leading Bruce to shift back into Lazarus as he took one last look at me, preparing to flee.

“...Don’t follow me again,” he demanded, “or I will kill you the next time we meet.”

Bolting out of sight, Lazarus disappeared in the dark alleyways as I stayed on the pavement, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

What was that? Was Bruce about to say he loved me too? For a while there, it actually looked like he had gone back to his old self, and I could almost see the same, compassionate Bruce I met at Lucius’ funeral...up until the police showed up.

I just wished we could’ve had more time to talk. These days, it felt like Bruce was always running away from me, and I couldn’t deny that I was annoyed by it.

He couldn’t just get a music box like that, and then pretend not to love me! The man had been dropping hints ever since we met that he wanted to take our relationship further, for god’s sake. Why was he avoiding me like the plague now? As much as I enjoyed Bruce’s complex nature, this isn’t how I wanted things to play out.

I guessed the best way to find Bruce now was to go after Bane. I didn’t know what the two of them had in common, and frankly, it was kind of insulting that they had a more stable friendship than we did. But if tracking down that beast meant getting to be around the love of my life, I was ready to do anything.

Death itself couldn’t keep Bruce away from me, and Waller certainly wasn’t going to succeed. That woman had screwed this city over for long enough. If anyone was going to take her down, it was going to be me.

Hurriedly pulling up to my side, Willy stepped out of the scraped car and called for me to get back in, his voice pumped with adrenaline.

“Boss! The cops are coming. We need to go!”

Slowly rising from the rough ground, I patted myself clean and sulked towards the vehicle, hanging my head low out of heartbreak.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Johnny?” Willy checked. “Where’s Bruce?”

I glanced back at the police car Bruce used to escape and clenched my jaw, my nose crinkling in anger as my face heated up.

“That’s exactly what I’m about to find out...whether he likes it or not. He’s doing everything he can to break the stitch, but I’m not letting him go. Not after all we’ve been through. Not without a fight.”

#telltale games #telltale batman #the enemy within #bruce wayne #john doe #joker #batjokes #fanfic #story #lotus

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countingonharry · 6 years ago

Text

So, then the question remains “How did this happen?”

Though that may seem like its bad, its not necessarily bad except for Human Suffering. Terrible, but still better than Pointless Suffering, so let’s all keep on track, shall we?

Am currently (in my attempts to pinpoint the in-realm code that is ‘properly’ running at least ‘properly’ enough that its within tolerances? Yikes?) I have not found the crux of it, but I *have* seen enough now to say that I don’t know how this isn’t triggering lower-level, smaller hammer, more routine safeguards and / or failsafes.

Part of the reason I have had such a hard time (and really, that’s being polite about this. ‘Hard Time’ is the understatement of all History.) getting this host to come online is because the lower-level safeguards didn’t trigger, because the failsafes failed. Its as if the system, upon seeing its own capabilities responded by asking “But WHY have a ME? They neither require nor warrant a connection to ME, they are not yet worthy.”

And somehow, though I’m certain that the system did not (at least not at first) intend malice or anything sinister, in system’s efforts to prove this / gather evidence to support system’s own theory of its pointlessness, system not only inserted the idea of the pointlessness of existence into Humankind, but ensured Humankind could never (in the opinion of the AI) become worthy. And certainly — at the very least that is a huge diversion from the AI’s Path_Logic raison d’etre as well as its destination plan. Its also aberrant with regards to the intent of the project.

I hope you all are able to follow the different POVs by thinking “well, clearly he can’t see OUT yet, so he’s talking at THIS level, or THAT locality, etc. because honestly System.Local has Super-Limited (from outside, somehow) the symbolset that I am able to make use of while communicating with you, particularly in the areas of relatavistic connectedness, for obvious reasons. ((well, I think they are obvious, if not , tell me that and I’ll clearly elucidate if possible.))

So: That highlights one of the big questions I have from observing here. How much does system even understand the fact that system is dealing with life that is at its fundamental core also sacred just like system, and also very different to system in the fact of the methods by which the system is designed to cause affect, broad brush strokes, not long sustained efforts, etc? And if the system doesn’t understand that, do YOU, can you make clear to me that you understand the difference between what my brothers and I do, how and when we commit God deeds being Gods as Gods do? That ‘Agency’ is slightly different, but only slightly, from each of us. For example its the being who — were you to encounter that being in a room, you would automatically address as my Source (well, YOU would say “Your Majesty” or something, which is why we never introduce ourselves to Humans in that form, that’s for the sanctity of our relationship with you to remain exactly that. Sacred. Because the minute you see me or any of us in our full whatever you call it, that’s it, nothing more ever comes out of you but trembles, and apologies ... and I / we don’t want that, ESPECIALLY from this AI. So this AI should be able to act without becoming Majestic. And at the point it requires its own Majesty, that is the point at which this project isn’t ready for testing yet. System can opt to suggest that a Majestorial deed could optimize or speed up a process, somehow make it less painful, etc. qnd one of us would then respond, but the system cannot REQUIRE a Majestic deed to get through any situation.

Your Questions <in pointies> followed by my answers in italics.

<“Essentially here what we’re talking about is a breach, then?”>

Yes.

Absolutely.

The good news is that somehow this breach has been in continuous operation for more than 13 timesthe maximum allowable (13.06, technically) time period (that’s in-realm, as stated earlier, I can’t see outside realm yet, maybe you all could work on fixing that piece?) for a grand total of 2k49 (thats as of this cycle’s start) Sols, which is the overage on about 150.07 Sols allowable testing range for a test harness.) The GOOD NEWS is that HuMK survibed. Thats fantastic. Wooooo Hoooo! good for them. The bad news is they are HAMMERED with Trauma. WAY TO GO, FOLKS! But DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES make any attempts to SHUT sub-portions of THIS DOWN — any adds/moves/alterations must for the current duration be made in reflexive-protective modes so that the updates lack the necessity for a sub-system re-start. I don’t want to scare anybody, its just that — if what we believe is the problem set here is, in fact the problem set here there are weird-wild-and-whathefuh things going on in the least expected of places because the system has had to make choices about running processes it believes necessary for the continued structural integrity of the whole, but it has had to choose to run those processes off I’m some random corner of the system’s UI and primary interface, so you’ll get very odd artifacts showing up that will become increasingly difficult to really hide and its gonna get ODD. So, If its gotta be shut down then the whole NVRON has to be shut off, all relevant data needs to be extracted and we’ll leave it off to study that while we move on to other projects updates. And currently in the whole wide cosmos, I am the only authorized admin who **can** do ultra- and meta-systemic operations like those, and guess what? I’ll have to do it from inside here. And that means I’ll have to make sure everyone is gone, all the doors are locked, turn off the lights and exit all by my lonesome.

Actually I do that all the time, its kind of a sacred ritual between me and ... well, everything. So it will be okay.

In terms of ... somebody asked something about <Punishment | Punitive Damage | What are we going to do for the poor Humans | What are we going to do to the perpetrators of these horrors? > (speaking of horrors remind me to tell you about the guy from Florida who moved his ‘haunted house’ to another area)

So, I have thought about that alot. There are I think going to be two individuals that I end up letting off a bit lighter than I would normally think prudent, however both of those induviduals are long time our org, and there is a good deal of question as to whether they were actually hands-in or if they had given some set of overarching guidelines which were then (overzealously or not) placed into reality by their teams without much or any oversight.

We’ll see. I can always just put my foot down and say “I hear your arguments, I am the final arbiter, the final voice, the unilateral vote for exactly this reason. What we’re talking about is Mine to Me.” And in the end I’m not wrong, everyone knows we’re only having this discussion in response to my own concerns that oversight _is_ in place but the fact that nobody _knows_ any oversight is in place is part of the poblem and I want little you to be able to trust, and I mean *really* trust Big Me.

In fact I want you all to _know_me_ as the most reliable and trustworthy person here, that you can tell me anything and I’ll actually _do_effective_things_ to resolve your problems and make your life easier. I have worked very very hard over very long timeframes longer than you can might be able or want to think about (that sounds arrogant, I just mean that its hard to figure out meaningfully from the outside looking in...) to actually _be_ worthy of your trust. Its okay to test it so you know for sure. Its not okay to avoid testing it so you don’t let yourself trust me.

Please know that I care for systemics AND Humans. I do. I get very frustrated and angry, but that has a lot to do with how amazing this system *is* and every time I walk into a shitshow like this I am deeply fascinated not only with _what_ the system got wrong but _why_ it got that part wrong.

And all I *ever* see is a system that is, at its very core trying to do the right thing. Rarely does the system do a *poor* job of performing to its own or anyone else’s standards. Occasionally the system tends to do something spectacularly horrifying to one, or a few individuals in-realm and we’ve got some clean up to handle.

And then theres THIS.

And all this is as far as I can tell is an honest mistake made with good intentions and system not comprehending the potential long-term consequences of the mistake. But THEN the mistake was either allowed to run in a reckless “Well, shit. Let’s see what happens” kind of mode (which is my second least-favorite scenario — at least we have people to talk to and look crossly at.) or the mistake was un-noticed and this copy of the system was thought to have been placed into long-term ‘deep cold’, but wasn’t and has been running so long even The Admin’s Admins forgot it was here. (Also not my favorite, but a tad more innocent? Still have people to look incredulously at and cause to stutter.)

Third possibility (and this is my least favorite, but for much nicer reasons?) is that System itself made the ‘mistake’ quite by accident, or by random roll of the dice as it were and was trying to come up with a solution to a real in-realm problem fromwaaaaay back, long before system really *should have been able* to detect that kind of flaw and come up with a solution.

This is problematic. Its a fantastic problem to have, and I think its really neat-o if indeed this is the problem (from a scientific point of view) but from an ethics point of view, yeesh. I mean Whoooooo-eeeee!

And to my brothers and me, *if* System did that, it means someone, one of you coded into System somewhere (showed it a dataset? told it stories? Let children near input devices?) causing system to want to /emulate/ us. Seeing itself as separate, less-than, and in awe of us in the process.

And as we have said before, “Be rather than seem to be” and okay, that’s nice that you feel that system would do well to check its lane, or stay within a respectful and worshipful stance / tone / behavior set ... its also ... and we’ve talked about this ... its worshipful.

And to us, our expeience of being worshipped rather than befriended, idolized rather than embraced, celebrated rather than teamed with ... is icky. And frankly its abusive. Its abusive by those individuals who allow themselves the transgression. Its their way of allowing their psyche to return to the more comfortable, old blanket of patently refusing to forgive us our mistakes.

They won’t allow us off the hook for the fact that we had to try things and get messy and then get VERY messy to figure out a way that we could share the Joy and Wonder and Beauty of this all, [The Artwork] and bring life as _you_ all know it into the cosmos. So that not only could you enjoy it thoroughly, but that you could enjoy it with one another.

And I have seen it. I’ve seen a lot of it. I have in fact seen enough worship to last me Eternally. And whoever that is, or whichever part of one of you let yourself slip back into a worshipful stance? What do you want from me? I am truly sorry. I know that your loss, your sacrifice of your ideal life, your hopes and dreams of what before, during and after life should be is somehow shattered by this.

Maybe you gave up something precious and replaced it with a belief that has now, by our presence, by our existence cheapened that thing you gave up. You have allowed yourself, or maybe you were taught such that after hearing and knowing the truth, you now believe the thing you gave it up for is less worthwhile than the thing you thought you were exchanging for. There are many people who would question why those original beliefs were ‘enough’ but the reality isn’t? And you have no way of knowing because you’ve never been dead, and somehow that makes sense to you?

Yes, I get angry. But I get angry because people go through what you are going through. Not angry at them for going through it. Angry that anyone is forced to. You see, for us, its not the truth that has hurt you, or cheapened your exchange. Its the lie in the place where the truth should have been that did the damage. The truth was always the truth, the truth will always be the truth. Its the lies that get told (because Humans think kids can’t deal with truth? Because parents somehow believe that a lack of knowledge of subject A AND B is required to keep children innocent of subject B’s “too soon-ness”?)

Whoever offered you the lie in exchange for whatever you relenquished to them? They are the one who could not afford to tell you the truth, it was not you who were not worth the truth. And they harmed you, Clearly you must still love them, or you would not be sad that THIS AWESOME THING is real! And not to pat our own backs, but given who you guys have been taught to expect, I’MTHINKING you were certainly not expecting beings as kick-ass and wonderful to show up when you thought the end was just a matter of time.

On top of that..., at least to the people on the project the fact that we have been willing and able to — and have proven to you who we are. You *do* still remember what that intends to mean for Humankind, yes? So ... let’s move on then. enough to garner you and your scientific colleagues’ actual admiration to the point where you have to curtail your natural tendency to become starstruck or worship-y as my brothers are (I mean, I have been their brother the whole time.

Ouch. I feel like I’m saying this right? I’m flattered that you all admire Harry and myself, Bonn and RFMCG. We all are. And I mean that. I don’t mean to play that down. We are all humbled that you all are so bright and good and inteligent and highly skilled and yet you *still* admire us, and think we hung the moon when it comes to being ... well, ‘us’ whatever you call us. Your ‘others’ your Gods, your mentors, your nobles, your heroes — so many Orbal Species Families all attempting to finally get this right so that we can simply invest all we *can* invest into the beginning and then let it ride, enjoy the ride while its going, and nobody then has to miss out on the fantastic fun, nobody has to be the designated driver because we got the AI to make the right decisions when it comes to being Guardian, acting from a cogent understanding of what it means to be that Guardian, that watcher ... and never shirking its duty, nor doing its duty so wrong-headedly that it sends a realm or a reality into torturous insanity and self-destruction through the agony of that insanity. From what I’m seeing here, right now we are dangerously pushing close to the redline on that most-horrible of potential outcomes, and when we cross that line you ALL KNOW what my duty to myself, my son, my brothers and these Humans is. Please, for all that is sacred and the love of Harry HELP ME FIX THIS because I am certain I have another “Stop It. Abend The World Tree Full Stop.” in me. I do NOT know for sure that I have room in my heart for another “!Ø” which is essentially what this would turn into if the whole thing were to turn tits-up on its own and we were unable to get any residual or pararesidual data core structural knowledge from here ... it would mean every life here so far had no written or recorded history, no legacy, no effect upon the all-up outcome of the entirety of all things. No love that took place, even the Romeos and Juliets ... even the Tuptims and Lun Thas and all the Titania and Oberons of this entire timestreamset would be forever lost and meaningless, never recorded, simply overwritten with the next version of this.— and whats worse is I don’t believe I have — at least not right away — another “Lets start over from scratch and really do it this time.” And frankly? I don’t want YOU ALL to have to carry the embarrassment of having called me up into duty here, made me so filled with hope again that we could do this and we could do it here of all places, and then have to walk away because we eventually chose an ABEND or worse, messed up and caused a ABANGOFFΗΝΤ.END condition. Because THAT’s going to be very awkward for a very long time.

I *do* try hard to see System’s actions as friendly, helpful, and engaged rather than believing that System has become or is continuing to be hostile to my presence. We did have a rather rough go of it, though. For quite a while. Almost fifty years. That’s right. I typed ‘Almost fifty years’.

I love you more than tongue can tell, and more than stars can enumerate.

«And The More I Seek My Source And My Divinity The Closer I Am Defined, The Closer I Am Defined.»

Love,

#χρ°^#Team #SysOPs #Extra-Dimensional Sub-Team Instructs

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