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bluemoonsunrise · 29 days ago

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Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, fuck u miles quaritch, tension you could cut with a knife, nsfw themes: grinding, biting, scent marking???. enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: o_0 long… <3 ur welcome

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

< previous chapter

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter five

— i know you —

the chopper was louder than you remembered. it made it hard to sleep even with the protective headphone over your ears. leaving before the sun was up, you were utterly exhausted. if your head was pounding bad enough to make you scowl with your eyes closed, you couldn’t imagine the headache jake had from his link being broken. with your head rested on his shoulder, the two of you tired your best to sleep.

you wished you hadn’t.

she came to you in your dreams.

“hey,” grace’s voice was gravelly over the headset. you felt her nudge your leg. “twin one and twin two, wake up before you miss it.”

you let out a soft whine as you stretched. beside you, jake yawned. he turned his head away from the glaring morning sun and tucked it down into your shoulder despite the mask. the cool breeze of oxygen was vital— but you really wished you could’ve taken it off to rub the sleep from your eyes. blinking hard, you tried to focus.

“oh, holy shit…”

emerging from the clouds, the hallelujah mountains came into view. the massive, floating rocks were covered in green. waterfalls fell into sprays of cool mist that wafted into the helicopter that helped wake up jake. he, too, stared dumbfounded outside.

“ain’t it something?” grace asked.

you turned your head to look at her and all you could do was nod. your eyes welled with tears you didn’t let fall. it was gorgeous. too gorgeous. earth — even as pretty as it was in its prime — could’ve never ever compared to the majesty and the glory that was pandora.

“aaaand that’s another job well done, folks. thanks for traveling air pandora. tips are appreciated.” trudy said in a perfect public service voice as she began to shut down the chopper.

“best damn pilot this side of the universe.” jake said.

trudy smirked. “you know it, baby.”

blue base: hidden was where you would be spending the next handful of months with grace, norm, trudy, and jake. setting up the field lab was no easy task. there was much to do. air filters had to be cleaned. link-pods and tech needed to be recalibrated to deal with the flux vortex. a new radio channel had to be set up in all the walkie-talkies. food needed to be stored away. bunks needed to be prepared.

you had so much to do— too much to do.

and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about tsu’tey.

“hey, where are you going?” grace asked as you rose from the table. you had all eaten dinner as a group once all the work had finally gotten done.

“i have to link.” you said as you tossed away your trash and took a last sip of water.

“it’s late. you should wait until tomorrow.” grace said with a small shake of her head.

“i can’t. i’m sorry.” you frowned at her and whispered, “it’s important. he needs to know.”

while the other three at the table exchanged confused glances, grace only sighed. she got up without another protest and fired up the link-pod. you climbed inside and laid back.

fuck was it going to be hard not to fall asleep.

as soon as your head hit the spongy blue foam, you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there. as soon as the hatch shut and your eyes closed, your vision tunneled into white.

the warm night air and smell of pandoran dinner were a comfort you didn’t know you needed. you laid by yourself for a moment. you were tired. incredibly so. it had been nearly two days since you’d been in your avatar at this point. traveling to the hallelujah mountains and setting up blue base: hidden had taken more time than you thought it would.

the center of home tree was alive with music and dancing. a massive bonfire in the middle of the gathering burned like a second sun. shadows danced across the walls as voices echoed in song. you couldn’t help but smile. you couldn’t help, either, as you scanned face to face looking for him.

“dream-walker, you’re awake.” the tsahik said.

your turned. sitting with her daughter, mo’at ran her fingers over a beaded chord. neytiri did not look at you as you crouched down to be level. instead, she focused on her own beaded chord.

“what’s all this?” you asked with a glance around at the festivities.

“a celebration of life.”

neytiri’s voice was like snow. cold and beautiful. it almost hurt your ears how pretty it was— and you realized it was the first time you’d ever heard her speak.

she met your eyes and said, “there has been a death since you were last here. we mourned and now we celebrate.”

your heart sank.

for a split moment— a moment you never wanted to live again, you thought it was him.

where was tsu’tey?

“an elder passed in her sleep.” the tsahik said. she watched your expression. she seemed to know exactly what you feared. “she lived a long, full life. now she will live forever in eywa.”

“i’m sorry for your loss…” you whispered, saying the only thing you could offer.

“there is no loss,” neytiri said without looking at you. instead, she was focused on something behind you. “you cannot lose what was not really yours.”

“eris.”

you looked up at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue. you shot up, your pupils blown wide. tsu’tey took ahold of your arm and squeezed you. his ears perked and the look in his eyes was one that you’d never thought you’d see.

relief.

“come.” tsu’tey said.

without another word, he whisked you away. he was always doing that. grabbing and pulling you. you wondered as you hurried to keep up with him, when that had become your favorite part of your day.

to your surprise, you left home tree.

where better to talk privately than where no one was at this hour?

“you were gone a long time.” tsu’tey said as he walked beside you through the sunset painted forest. soon, it would be dark and the forest would glow all on its own.

“i know…i’m sorry.” you said softly. you glanced up at him and heat rushed to your face. he was looking at you. “things— uh…things got real crazy real fast. i’m happy to report that jake is not a spy for the RDA.”

“you are sure of this?” tsu’tey asked, his brows drawing together.

“yes.” you said. you cracked a small smile and laughed. “grace is intent on making sure those who would wish to plant spies here never get the chance. she pulled my whole team out of the RDA facility. we are— well…maybe i shouldn’t tell you where we are.”

tsu’tey’s eyes widened and he asked, “are you not at your colony?”

“no. not anymore. we’ve gone wild. we are far from hell’s gate. far from here, too. at least, i think? i’m not really sure where those floating mountains are.”

you slapped your hand over your mouth.

tsu’tey smiled down at you and chuckled. “what? afraid i’ll come and kill you?”

“maybe…” you whispered, letting your hands drop.

“you have proven yourself to be useful, eris, so there is little to gain by killing you.” tsu’tey said. his arm brushed against yours and he met your eyes. “better yet, you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.”

your throat tightened and your chest caved but your forced yourself to smile.

silence settled over the two of you as you walked and you were thankful for it. your voice would’ve cracked and you would’ve cried if you had to say anything more. walking with him now, you realized how scared you had been the last 37 hours.

with him, you felt safe.

and it made you cry.

you stopped dead in your tracks and covered your face with your hands. big, wet tears rolled down your cheeks. the stress of the move and the exhaustion due to it made for an awful, potent mix of a complete and utter overwhelm.

“eris?” tsu’tey whispered your name too gently.

“i’m just tired,” you said. you wiped your eyes hard and tried to calm your breath. you looked up at him and shook your head. “i’m fine.”

“let us go back. we will get you back to your body so that you can sleep.” tsu’tey said.

“no.” you shook your head as tears dripped from your eyes. “i don’t want to go back yet. please. i want to stay here. i want to stay with y—”

you caught yourself.

not we’ll enough.

tsu’tey ears perked and his pupils rounded. carefully, he flicked his head. without a word, you followed behind him. you had no idea where you were going. you didn’t care. when you came upon a massive tangle of gigantic tree roots, the forest was beginning to glow in the shadows.

“this way,” tsu’tey said as he crouched down.

you raised your hand up to protect your face as you followed him into the dark. a tunnel. the smell of pandoran soil was strong. lights began to twinkle the deeper into the dark tunnel you walked until blue and purple were the only colors you could see.

underground was a small burrow-like cave. the grass shined as you walked. the tree roots were speckled with colorful dots. the gems in the walls of the burrow twinkled and reflected the light. in the center, an unlit firepit. woven mats lined the floor. baskets were placed against the walls.

“what is this place?” you asked softly.

“it is where hunters come to rest if they tire greatly before reaching home tree. there are many places like this in the forest.” tsu’tey said.

you watched as he lit a fire. slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. it took skill to make a fire that fast. you wondered if you’d master something like that one day. would he teach you?

“where is jake’s avatar?” you asked. the thought came to your mind like fire catching onto dry grass. you watched the flames swirl as he added kindle.

“the tsahik’s hut.” tsu’tey said without looking at you.

you looked at him though.

you watched the way his muscles rippled as he moved. you watched the way he shifted his weight as he reached around. when he finally sat down beside you, you stared at his face. his frustratingly handsome face.

was it wrong that you found him handsome?

he was a ten-foot-tall blue alien and all you wanted to do was let your head drop into his lap and fall asleep.

“why do you look at me like that?” tsu’tey asked. his voice was low. low and curious. he turned his head and met your eyes.

you pursed your lips. “like what?”

“like…” tsu’tey hesitated. perhaps he didn’t have the words in english. he cracked an awkward smile. “like you want to…eat me.”

your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh. as heat filled your face, you looked away. “i don’t look at you like that…”

“not— not like you want to chew me and swallow.” tsu’tey was quick to say, worried he confused you. he tried to catch a glimpse of your face as he sat forward. “but like you want to…i don’t know. forget it. i can’t express it well.”

“it’s because i think you’re hot.”

when he didn’t say anything, you forced yourself to look at him. his ears were perked. he was waiting for you to explain. to say more. you found it hard to.

“hot…” tsu’tey repeated. “like i burn you?”

“kinda.” you said with a small laugh. you played with one of the braids in your hair as you stared at the fire. “it just means i…i think you’re attractive. you’re good looking. i think you’re hot.”

“is that why you try to put your mouth on mine?” tsu’tey asked.

you wanted to curl into a ball and die.

“yeah…” you said softly, nodding your head. you exhaled the air in your lungs awkwardly.

“i feel like that about you.”

you nearly broke your neck looking up at him so fast. your eyes widened and your lips parted in a soft expression of shock. you don’t know why it surprised you so much. he had literally tried to fuck you in the hot springs.

still, it was different hearing it so outright.

“you…think i’m hot?” you asked under your breath.

tsu’tey nodded once. “yes.”

“and you want to…kiss me?”

“all the time.”

you could’ve fainted.

your heart was racing and so much blood was rushing to your face that you felt light headed— but you had to keep your wits about you.

you laid back on your elbows and nodded, trying to seem as nonchalant as you could. “epic.”

“epic?” tsu’tey asked as he, too, laid back on his elbows. he looked at you. “what is epic?”

“forget it.” you said with a small shake of your head.

so embarrassing…

silence fell over the both of you. the burrow was full only with the sounds of crackling sticks. soft, even breaths. a small hum of some tune he whispered under his breath. you looked up at him but he kept his eyes on the fire.

it became warm in the safe haven below the ground. perfectly warm. it made your eyes heavy. his humming did, too. slowly, you slipped down to lay on your side. when you did, he did the same. on the mat beside you, he rested his head on his palm and watched you as he hummed.

“i don’t want to fall asleep…” you murmured, rubbing your eyes. you smiled faintly. “you’re making me sleepy.”

“what is it you want then?” tsu’tey asked in a low voice.

you shook your head.

he sighed the smallest bit. “just say it and i will do it.”

you hesitated for a moment.

tsu’tey tensed as you wiggled closer and curled up against his chest. he looked down at you. with your eyes closed, you tried to play it cool— but your heart was pounding in your chest.

the tension in you died away as he brushed his fingers down your arm. you relaxed as he laid down with you. his arm slid underneath your head. a perfect pillow. his legs tangled with yours. his lips rested against the top of your head.

he placed the faintest kiss on your hairline.

you were no longer tired.

all you could hear was the pound of your heart. it was like thunder. you breathed as deeply and as evenly as you could to keep yourself from squirming. you hoped he couldn’t feel the way your heart raced.

he could.

“mawey,” tsu’tey murmured, reaching between you to place his hand on your chest.

it only made you less calm.

slowly, you lifted your head to be eye-to-eye with him. with his hand still on your chest, he could feel the beat your heart had skipped. his pupils widened as you stared into his eyes. his tail was swaying, audibly swishing against the mat.

“what?” you asked softly.

“you smell good,” tsu’tey whispered, a small smile curling on his lip.

you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew what he was getting at. pheromones. you inhaled through your nose. the smell of the fire was all that you could really pick out. that and a sweet, faint aroma you figured was the grass.

you shook your head. “i only smell the fire.”

tsu’tey let out a low sigh but smiled anyways. “you are frustrating…do you know that?”

“i don’t mean to be.” you said softly.

“i know,” he dragged his fingers up your arm and pressed his palm against your face. “which is even more frustrating...”

tsu’tey kissed you.

and it took everything in you not to moan.

worse, it was harder not to devour him completely.

he kissed you slowly and softly, as if he were testing out the waters. maybe he expected you to feel different on his lips than real na’vi women did. or perhaps kissing was entirely different on pandora than it was on earth.

you let him lead.

you liked it best when he told you what to do.

your fingers laced through his braids as you kissed him back. his lips were like velvet. his mouth was hot. you wanted to taste him but you didn’t know if you could. you were too afraid to ruin this by doing something too human.

but you couldn’t help it.

you parted your lips in the hopes that he would give you more.

his tongue was wet and coarse as it dipped into your mouth. you sighed against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. guiding you to the ground, he leaned the top half of himself over you as your tongues slow danced together.

he tasted so fucking good.

he smelled so fucking good.

his pheromones hit you like an anvil to the head like in those old cartoons. salvia filled your mouth and a tingle began to vibrate in your belly. between your legs, your pussy began to weep. your tail curled itself tight around your leg. you felt breathless. you felt hot all over.

you felt so bad for not realizing what you did to him without even knowing it.

tsu’tey pulled his lips away from yours but he did not remove them from you. he glided them along your jaw. he nipped at your throat as you tilted your head back. you were squirming below him, panting and huffing as he kissed the sweetest spots you had. soon enough, you were grinding against each other.

a sharp yelp escaped you as he bit into the crook of your neck. fangs threatened to puncture through your skin— but they didn’t. he didn’t. he just wanted to bite. and bite you he did. over and over again, across your throat and shoulders, tsu’tey bit you hard enough to draw gasps from your lips but not enough to bruise.

your eyes shot open as he rolled you onto your side. the fire warmed your face but that was nothing compared to the flush that burned in your cheeks as he pressed himself against your backside. he pushed his hips forward into your ass. you could feel his erection. it throbbed against you from below his loincloth

“i will not mate with you face to face,” tsu’tey murmured against your ear. he dragged his lips along the pointed cartilage. “but we may do it like this and i will hold you just as close.”

“why can’t we face each other?” you asked softly, squirming back to be closer to him.

you tried to look over your shoulder and meet his eyes but he tucked his face down into the nape of your neck and bit down. you winced softly and closed your eyes, grinding back against him subconsciously.

“because if we look at each other, we grow attached.” tsu’tey said, his breath hot against your neck. it made you shiver. “na’vi can only mate for life by forming tsaheylu but there is still a deep connection that comes with staring into the eyes of someone you mount.”

“i may not be a virgin, eris, but i have never faced anyone while i coupled with them.” tsu’tey said as he reached down between you both and pushed your leg up to your belly. he was making room for himself. “that honor shall belong only to my mate.”

your heart sank at once. “to neytiri…”

“to whomever i chose.” tsu’tey said gruffly.

he didn’t have much of a choice.

you both knew that.

“this is wrong.” you said softly. you turned onto your tummy and looked at him. well, you tried your best to. it was hard to look him in the eye.

“what is?” tsu’tey asked with a small shake of his head.

“if you’re…if you’re supposed to mate with neytiri for life, what are we doing? it doesn’t feel right. it feels like you’re cheating on her.” you said through the tightness in your throat.

tsu’tey frowned and leaned into you. he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “na’vi cannot cheat. until na’vi form tsaheylu, they are not bonded to anyone or anything besides their ikran. once na’vi mate, there cannot be another.”

“we are doing nothing wrong.” tsu’tey murmured against your ear. he nipped at it softly. “but if you do not wish to, i will not make you.”

“i do wish to but it doesn’t seem right. i’m not…i don’t even know what i’m doing here. i’m not like you. not up here.” you pointed to your head. “and not here either.” you placed your hand on your chest.

tsu’tey pushed himself up onto his knees as you sat up. you were almost entirely turned away from him. slowly, he came up behind you. he ran his hands down your arms and peeked his head over your shoulder. you tried your best to ignore him.

“no matter what you are, eywa has chosen you for something.” tsu’tey whispered into your ear. he wrapped his arm around you and placed his palm against your thumping heart. “no matter what you are, this heart is strong.”

“no matter what you are, i see you.”

you turned your head and met his striking yellow gaze. your lips were ajar in soft shock. your ears pinned and perked. your tail curled itself into knots as butterflies ate at your insides.

he saw you.

he could see you.

at least, he thought he could.

he had no idea who the real you was.

you frowned at him as you studied the details of his face. “i wish that were true.”

his brows drew together and he tilted his head.

“you don’t even know me.” you said under your breath. you looked away and closed your eyes tight. “you said it yourself, my kind are a disease on this land. we don’t belong here. i…i shouldn’t be doing this with you.”

“i speak in anger. it is my curse. for that i am sorry.” tsu’tey said in a low, gentle voice. he slid his hands around your hips and down your thighs, keeping you close. “i will stop being cruel.”

“it’s not like i make it very easy for you to be nice sometimes,” you whispered as you watched his fingers trace the stripes on your thighs.

“we both need to improve.” tsu’tey said as he brushed his nose along your ear. “it is something we shall work on.”

he was being too affectionate. it was wearing your resolve thin— but was he being affection because he liked you or just to get laid?

your chest started to hurt all over again.

“we can’t,” you whispered.

tsu’tey sighed and hugged you closer. “we can.”

“no we can’t.” you turned. facing him was harder. you wished you stayed looking the other way. “there is no we. you are promised to another and in human culture, i’d be considered a homewrecker.”

“eris,” he breathed your name as if it pained him. “i don’t want neytiri. and nor does she want me.”

“i thought you said it was duty.” you said with a small shake of your head.

he scowled at you and squished your cheeks between his fingers. “you never stop talking…”

“wllwhatdyowan.” you tried to say through your squished lips. tsu’tey rolled his eyes and removed his hand from your face. rubbing your cheek, you asked again.

“what do you want?”

“what i want is for you to turn over and let me inside you, woman. i want that very much. to hold and bite and kiss you.” tsu’tey said almost impatiently.

you annoyed him so greatly.

and yet he wanted you anyways.

“will you at least let me earn it first?” you asked. your voice was hardly loud enough. your face was hot and your tail was swaying wildly behind you.

he tipped his head. “what?”

you sighed and looked down into your lap. you picked at the skin around your nails and rolled your eyes as embarrassment weighed on your chest. so stupid. this was so stupid. you were so, so stupid…

“i want that, too, but i can’t even shoot an arrow. i feel…unworthy.” you cringed as you said the word. you should’ve just shut up and let him fuck you.

“eris,” he tried to interject but you wouldn’t let him.

“once i learn how to be more like you and less like…like me…then…okay.” you looked up at him and bit your lip. you couldn’t read his expression. “we can…we can do whatever this is.” you gestured between you both to whatever tension was tangled around you.

tsu’tey only stared at you. you felt like a slide under a microscope. he took in every detail of you. every facet. every stripe and dot. every fine hair on your almost na’vi face.

he only nodded once. “it is decided then.”

— 🌌 —

strength was something you never thought you could have.

on earth, the pollution had made you feel sick. it kept you indoors. it made your mind hazy. on pandora, there was no mist in your mind. there was no laying around— not on the path the you had chosen to walk.

you wanted to be a warrior.

you would become one.

rain or shine, you were out in the forest with tsu’tey learning how to be strong. strong in your body, in your head, and in your heart. every day you would run. along the forest floor, over the towering tree roots, in the muddy riverbed. you ran and ran and ran and built up your stamina. every day you would climb. you climbed trees, rocks, and vines. you learned how to pull yourself, push yourself, and most importantly— catch yourself.

archery was the hardest for you.

the first time you shot an arrow, it ricocheted off a rock and nearly flew back at you. tsu’tey hadn’t even known that level of bad luck was possible. you hadn’t done much wrong, either. it was not your posture. it was not your technique.

it was simply poor luck.

“here…” he said under his breath, eyes still wide. he came up behind you and adjusted your elbow. the adjustment would change nothing. it was too small— but he didn’t want you to feel terrible. “try like that instead.”

“sure…” you muttered, keeping your elbow straight.

archery was far harder than riding a direhorse. while you sustained more injuries riding mitsia, at least there was pay off. there was visible progress. the art archery took you hours to get comfortable with.

and then it took you days to master.

“can you see?” tsu’tey asked as he grabbed your face. he looked into your eyes. “you can see, yes?”

“yeah, i can fuckin’ see.” you huffed as you turned your face away. you ignored him as you tried again. it was pouring. the rain was cold and the wind was harsh. “it’s the wind. the wind is fucking me up.”

“it was not windy yesterday when you did not hit anything.” tsu’tey said.

you hissed at him and he was quick to look away.

days were spent in the archery clearing. while jake was learning how to ride a direhorse with neytiri — who got stuck with training a demon of her own under orders from her father — you were stuck every day in that clearing with tsu’tey. he resorted to drawing in the dirt to pass the time as you missed target after target.

there was only so much bad luck someone could have, right? surely, you were just getting it all out now. one big awful week of it.

tsu’tey paced behind you as you drew your arm back. all day you had spent out in the glaring sun. not one time did you hit the target. instead, you hit everything around it.

seriously, you had to have been mentally deficient.

“breathe.” tsu’tey said.

you took a breath and held it. you focused. you closed one eye and honed in one the wooden board with a big yellow dot on it. you exhaled slowly. in the stillness between breaths, you shot the arrow.

patuk!

dead in the center of the yellow dot, your arrow pierced the board. the yellow and green calling card waved as the arrow rattled.

“ah!” you gasped, your eyes wide. “oh, my god!”

“yes!” tsu’tey exclaimed.

you turned to him and threw your arms up. you nearly screeched with joy as he hooked his arms around your waist and lifted you up. you hugged him tight as he yipped with excitement. he placed you back on the ground and cupped your face.

“you did it!” he said with a wide smile.

“i did it!” you giggled.

“do it again.” he encouraged, nudging your waist.

your smile dropped. “uh…”

“come on,” tsu’tey turned you around and urged you to raise the bow. “you can do it. breathe and shoot.”

you pulled an arrow out from behind your back and loaded the bow. you breathed deep and focused on the target. you let the arrow fly free and it narrowly missed.

you frowned.

“no, no. don’t get discouraged. again. come on.” tsu’tey said, giving your back a soft pat. “you can do it.”

you ignored how hot your face felt. you cleared your throat and shook out the nervous tension in your body. once more, you loaded an arrow into your bow. you kept your core tight. you kept your arm straight. you took a breath— and you let it fly.

patuk!

the arrow landed just a little ways above the first.

you turned your head to meet his eyes and you couldn’t help but smile. he smiled, too, and ran a gentle hand over your hair.

“well done, tsamsiyu.” tsu’tey said.

you dipped your head.

since that day in the hunters burrow, tsu’tey had made an effort to be kinder. in the same regard, so had you. while you still bickered and he still called you a moron every chance he got, there was less turmoil between the two of you.

replacing it was tension.

heavy, painful tension that made every moment harder than it should’ve been. no time was harder than when you would sit across from him and try you best to learn his language. you weren’t hopeless— but you weren’t fluent.

you watched as he gestured to the space around you. you scrunched your nose and clenched as if you were pushing the word forward in your mind.

“fuck, i know this.” you muttered.

“yes. you do. i’ve told you it fifty times.” tsu’tey said, continuing the gesture. he looked above. he looked below. he looked around.

“fra’u!” you gasped, pointing a finger at him. “fra’u! everything!”

tsu’tey grinned and nodded. he was quick to move onto the next word. he pursed his lips and whistled.

“fwefwi,” you said with a small laugh. “whistle.”

tsu’tey whistled again and swayed his hand from side to side. your brows drew together and your shook your head at him. he repeated the action once more, whistling and he swayed his hand.

“wind?” you asked. when he rolled his eyes at you, you corrected yourself. “hufwe.”

“mn,” he nodded. “and if you were to say that it was a light wind?”

“hufwetsyìp.” you said.

“good.” he smiled. he beckoned your forward and you scooted closer to him. he dragged his finger across your lower lid. “what are these?”

“nari.” you answered. “eyes.”

he smacked you with his tail. “this?”

you smacked him with yours. “kxetse. tail.”

he brushed his thumb across your lips. “and these?”

your mind went blank. staring at him, all you could do was blink. slowly, your lips curled into a smile as his did, too. he seemed to enjoy your sudden speechlessness.

“i— i don’t remember.” you said with a soft, bashful laugh.

he titled his head and cocked an eyebrow. “you don’t remember?”

you giggled and shook your head. “no, i don’t.”

“c’mon,” tsu’tey purred. “you know. you must know.”

your ears perked. hearing human slang come out of him was still so awe-striking. while his antics and habits rubbed off on you, yours rubbed off on him, too. you spent so much time together. little things like that were a reminder of just how much time you spent together.

“i don’t remember. seriously, i don’t. i think i have to touch your lips to remember.” you said with a small, devious little smile.

“oh…” tsu’tey’s eyes widened and his pupils dilated. he leaned forward and tried to suppress his smirk. “go on then, skxawng.”

slowly, you traced the shape of his lips. your breath caught in your throat as you remembered how it felt to kiss him. meeting his eyes, you could almost see his thoughts.

he was thinking the same thing.

“lips.” you said. you shook your head. “i don’t remember.”

“meseyri,” tsu’tey said softly. his breath was warm against your fingers. “awstengyem meseyri. two lips.”

“meseyri.” you repeated, gliding your fingers across the soft pinkish-purple skin of his lips.

tsu’tey pressed a soft kiss to the tips of your fingers.

you dropped your hand and pushed yourself forward, not being able to bare it another second. denying the pull between you the last few weeks had been torture. he grabbed your throat eagerly and tugged you into a kiss. a husky huff escaped him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he tugged at your waist, hoarding you closer.

your lips only got to meet for a moment before you heard the thundering of hooves.

tsu’tey pulled back and looked over the side of the towering root you were sat on. with the sun beginning to set, warriors and hunters began to return home. among them, jake and neytiri.

“come,” tsu’tey said. he had begun speak small words and phrases in na’vi to help familiarize you with the language. “it is time to eat.”

reluctantly, you got up.

“hey!” jake waved as you entered the dining circle. he was sat by himself waiting for you. unlike tsu’tey who would sit with you at dinners, neytiri had never once sat with jake.

although, tsu’tey had stopped sitting with you now that jake was around.

he gave your arm a soft squeeze before parting ways with you. sitting down in front of jake, you smiled. there was always relief in seeing him. especially since he looked pretty beat up, too, after a day of trying to ride a direhorse. it made you feel better to know that even a marine got bucked off.

“rough day?” you asked with a teasing smile.

“nah. not too bad.” jake said as he picked up a skewer of roasted meat. he took a bite and was quick to chew. “your day?”

“lots of na’vi practice. my heads all jumbled with it.” you said as you picked up a fig-like fruit and took a bite of it. it tasted so sweet that it made your tail curl in delight. no fruit had ever been that sweet and delicious on earth.

when sat together, earth was something you and jake talked about often. comparing foods, flora, animals, and customs, you and jake could talk for hours about how different pandora was. how wonderful it was. how scary it was.

“you know; in the end, i think coming in blind to all this may have been a good thing.” jake said as he chewed on the skewer like a toothpick. “i think if i had known half the stuff i know about this place, i would’ve stayed home.”

“really?” you asked, your brows raising. “i figured this was just your kinda place, marine.”

“well, it is now that i’m here. especially now that im here in this place.” jake glanced around at the clan and smiled. “but if i had been told there were actual fucking monsters and plants that could shock you and spray poison…i definitely would’ve passed on it.”

“maybe i would’ve, too, honestly. i got to study up on the language and the forest. conveniently, the RDA left out the palulukan and the nantang from my guide.” you sighed just a bit and you looked around, your eyes falling on someone sitting just close enough for you to see every detail of. “i think it more so boils down for me to missing things on earth rather than not wanting to be here.”

“what do you miss most?” jake asked.

“tv.” you sighed. the corner of your lip pulled into a smile. “not so much the movies. grace has movies if we really wanted to watch them. i’m talking about television. shitty reality shows. documentaries of what earth used to be like when it was green. cooking shows. stuff like that.”

“i think i miss the sounds of the city the most. i miss the noise. here, it’s too quite. in hell’s gate, it’s too mechanical. up in the mountains, it’s all wind and nothing else.” jake said as he leaned back on his arms. he shrugged a bit. “i miss the sound of people. humans like us. cars beeping. distant laughter. high heels on concrete. tires on a rainy street. hell, even hearing people swear at each other.”

“i haven’t thought about things like that being here.” you said. you glanced around. the chatter of the clan was filling to the ears— but not in the way the bustle and hustle of earth was. in some way, you did miss it. especially the tires on a rainy street. that had soothed you to sleep your whole life.

“that’s a good one.” you said as you met jake’s eyes. you nodded. “i definitely miss things like that.”

“sometimes, i even miss the stink.” jake laughed lowly. he shook his head and tilted it back, smiling to himself. “it’s stupid but i brace myself for the smell of smog and gas every time i go outside here. i feel stupid, of course, but i almost miss the way the air would wreak.”

you laughed, too, and felt silly for understanding exactly what he meant. it was awful. it was disgusting. but it was home.

it had been home.

this was home now.

firelight and bioluminescence. blue skin and yellow eyes. fangs. monsters in the forest. floating mountains.

you’d always miss earth — some part of you would — but this was home.

jake was still new to the forests and the clan and home tree like you had once been. to him, it was foreign. to you, it was only more and more familiar as the days passed. you were beginning to make friends with the other hunters who had yet to pass iknimaya. saeyla was the kindest to you. she always said hi when she saw you. mo’at was always happy to see you. eytukan dipped his head and was polite enough.

and then there was tsu’tey.

sometimes, it felt like he was the only thing that made the world go round.

“did you eat enough?” tsu’tey asked as he walked you to your hammock.

“oh, yeah. i’m stuffed.” you said with a smile, patting your belly. you turned to say goodnight but the expression on his face stopped you. “what?”

“i overheard you and jake’suli,” tsu’tey said with a bit of reluctance. he wouldn’t meet your gaze. “you miss earth?”

your brows drew together and you felt hot with guilt.

oh, jesus…did he think you wanted to leave?

you could’ve up-chucked your whole dinner.

“sometimes i do but…but i don’t want to go back.” you said as quickly as you could but the words nearly alluded you.

“but you miss the sounds of your people.” tsu’tey looked into your eyes and his ears dropped. “and that is different from my people, yes? a city is not like this.”

“no…no a city isn’t like this. it’s loud. really loud. always loud.” you said with a small sigh. your shoulders dropped and you couldn’t help but look around. “it’s always glowing. not like the forest glows but bright lights. so many lights. in order to sleep, i would have to close my blinds and sometimes even cover my face with my hoodie.”

“i prefer this.” you said as you placed your hand on his chest. he met your eyes and seemed to soften under your gaze. “this is peace. earth so rarely knew peace. even though you hunt and craft by hand here, it was so much harder to survive on earth.”

“you are happy, yes?” tsu’tey asked.

the question surprised you.

is that what he was worried about? your happiness?

“yes,” you whispered. your ears dropped but your tail swayed back and forth. the question touched you. deeply and wholly. “yes, of course. of course, i’m happy. truly.”

“that is good. i was afraid that…that i made you feel like you did not belong.” tsu’tey said with shame lacing his voice.

you were speechless. all you could do was shake your head. he didn’t make you feel that way…

“you are different and that is true…but you do belong here.” tsu’tey placed his hand on your chest. “strong heart. and it belongs right here.”

you laid awake that night in your bunk.

staring at the stars through the glass in the ceiling, your chest felt warm and fuzzy. in the dark, you smiled to yourself. his words had touched you. sometimes, it was hard to understand where you stood with tsu’tey. one day he couldn’t stand you, the next he was all over you and drowning you in affection. he was strict and then he was easy going. he was mean and then he was kind.

sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

other times, it made you want to smack him and then kiss him before he could feel the pain.

tomorrow you may very well fall asleep wanting to smack him upside the head but tonight you wanted nothing more than a single kiss from him.

— 🌌 —

“eris,” norm said, shaking you awake. “eris, get up.”

“huh?” you picked your head up and tried to open your eyes. “what’s wrong?”

“eris, he’s outside.”

your heart dropped.

miles quaritch was outside.

you scrambled out of your bunk and hurried to throw on a decent pair of clothes. you slipped into jeans and pulled on an RDA issued shirt. you fixed your hair as best you could and stepped into your boots. as you hurried through the small tactical base, you nearly tripped over your own feet.

fuck.

were your video logs about archery training insufficient? of course, they were but you had no idea what you were doing. you had no idea how to gather the kind of intel that the head of security wanted.

you almost forgot to grab an oxygen mask before going into the airlock. thank god for trudy.

pushing open the heavy metal door, the morning breeze was cold so high up in the atmosphere. your breath was ragged and nearly fogged your mask. the helicopter outside was…trudy’s.

and grace was not standing with the colonel.

she was standing with him.

tsu’tey was unbelievably gigantic.

your heart could’ve stopped. your knees nearly gave out as his ikran screeched at you. he raised a gentle hand and stroked the creatures long face. yellow eyes flicked towards you— and his pupils blew wide.

“i’ll leave you two to talk.” grace said as she passed by you.

‘no!’ you wanted to beg, ‘don’t leave me alone with him!’

the door sealed shut and so had your fate.

slowly, you turned and his shadow swallowed you whole. with a yip, he sent his ikran away. the blue, white, and yellow patterned creature dove off the cliff and soared through the skies. tsu’tey tilted his head at you, his tail flicking behind him as you approached.

“what— what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, your voice tight in your throat. “how…how the hell did you…how did you find us?”

“there is only one rock amongst the many that float with these on it.” tsu’tey said, flicking his head towards the field lab behind you.

“you are small.” tsu’tey said as he crouched down. he smirked as you recoiled. “are you scared of me?”

“no,” you lied. you steeled your spine, trying to seem taller than you actually were. “you’re just…big.”

big was an understatement. he was over ten feet tall and you were lucky to be the height you were.

tsu’tey’s tail swayed through the grass. if it hit you, it probably would’ve bruised you. it may have been able to break a rib. he seemed mindful of that fact as you stared at it.

“what are you doing here?” you asked as you looked back up into his eyes. even when he was crouched you had to tilt your head back.

“i have come to learn about you.” tsu’tey said. he crawled forward to be closer and sat down in front of you. finally, you were somewhat level. “you spend all day and all night with me…it is only fair i come to you.”

“i…” you didn’t even know what to say. your head was spinning. it was hard to breathe even with oxygen being pumped right into your face. “there isn’t much to do here…you won’t fit inside the field lab easily. you wouldn’t be able to breathe well, either. it’s all oxygen in there. besides, it’s crowded.”

“can we not sit here?” tsu’tey asked with a small tilt of his head.

“we can…but it’s just— it’s cold.” you whispered, drawing your arms in close around you. you should’ve grabbed a sweater or a hoodie.

“come,” tsu’tey motioned for you to sit in his lap. “you will be warm here.”

“oh— oh, my god, no.” you said. you looked away as red filled your cheeks. “the whole crew is no doubt watching us through the window. i can’t just sit…there.”

tsu’tey looked passed you. sure enough, they were all watching. they were quick to scramble but they couldn’t go far. there was little privacy. jake would link soon. so would norm and grace— if grace decided not to study her samples and log her findings. and trudy would just…do whatever trudy did to pass the time.

“can i take you somewhere?” tsu’tey asked with an edge of caution to his voice.

“nope.” you refused. shaking your head and wiggling a finger at him, you said, “absolutely not. my fragile human ass stays put.”

tsu’tey huffed under his breath and pursed his lips. “always so difficult.”

“if you really wanted…we could use the west wing. it’s for bunking and it’s not going to be full at this hour now that everyone is up. i can see if grace can find a way for you to breathe.” you said with a small shrug.

tsu’tey seemed apprehensive to be stuck inside a small metal box but he flicked his head.

you were quick to hurry inside. within a few minutes, grace had made a reversed oxygen mask for tsu’tey. it was janky and if it didn’t work well he’d have to go back outside, but she had filled a larger oxygen canister with pandoran air and found a spare mouth-and-nose mask she connected to it.

tsu’tey clearly regretted his choices as he crawled through the front door. you were quick to guid him straight to the west wing. the ceiling was a bit taller there because of the bunks, so he didn’t have to keep his head hunched over so much.

“hey, watch the tail.” trudy said.

tsu’tey tucked his tail. he was quick to slide himself into the bunk room. you closed the door behind him and rested your forehead against it. you sighed. your heart was racing. slowly, you turned. when you did, you found him staring at the wall decorated with pictures of your life on earth. posters of your favorite animals. cities. pictures of you and your parents. pictures of your sister.

“i’m the one on the left,” you said as you pulled you mask off. carefully, you brushed your hair out of your face.

“i know.” tsu’tey said, gently touching the photo. he looked at you and his pupils dilated. “i know you, eris.”

you let out a soft breath. he reached down and lifted the mask to his face, inhaling slowly. unlike you, he could breathe oxygen for a while. not forever but longer than you could breathe his air.

“i did not think you would look so much like you.” tsu’tey said as you approached. while he sat on the floor, you sat on the bed. jake’s bunk.

you shrugged and shook your head. “ta-da?”

tsu’tey grinned at you even though he did not quite understand what it was that you meant. “ta-da, yes.”

“so…” you smacked your hands on your thighs and exhaled softly. “what do you wanna do?”

“i want to know what tivee is.” tsu’tey said. he looked around the room and tried to pin point what may have been tv. “i heard you tell jake’suli you missed it and i want to see why.”

you shook your head. “i don’t think i should.”

“why not?” tsu’tey asked, his invisible brows drawing together.

“because you may like it too much and start an industrial revolution like the RDA is trying to do.” you said with a soft laugh.

“i do not know what you just said but i want to see tv.” tsu’tey insisted.

you sighed. there was little point in saying no. getting up off of the bed, you walked around him. he turned, being mindful not to knock into anything. he watched as you crouched down to plug in the chord. you pressed the button on the bottom and the screen filled with static.

“it may not even work.” you said over your shoulder.

you flicked through the tapes grace had in box and pulled out the most fitting one. star wars: return of the sith. tsu’tey scooted closer as the movie began. you took a seat beside him and used the remote to turn up the volume. as the opening credits rolled, the music made his ears perk.

“what does it say?” tsu’tey asked, watching the yellow letters roll across the screen. he brought the mask to his mouth and took a deep breath.

you read the preface of the movie to him and did your best to explain what it all meant. you knew it was lost to him but he was fixated anyways— especially when humans appeared on the screen. he was transfixed.

“did you have that?” tsu’tey asked, pointing to the flying car on the screen.

you laughed and shook your head. “at the time this movie came out, flying cars didn’t exist. in my time, i didn’t have enough money.”

he looked down at you.

none of it made sense.

“no,” you said with a small smile. “i didn’t have a flying car.”

he nodded and turned his attention back to the screen. you sat in silence as you watched the movie. every now and again he lifted the mask to his mouth to take a breath. he would ask a question here and there. it amazed him— but he did not understand much of what was said. soon enough, he wasn’t quite seeing the point of a movie.

“why do you watch stuff like this?” he asked.

“for fun.” you said with a small shrug. “humans really value entertainment. star wars is one of the biggest movie series ever. very well loved.”

“do you like this movie?” he asked with a curious tilt of his head.

you gave him your honest answer.

once more, it fell silent between you. you watched the movie with a sense of nostalgia weighing heavy on your heart. this was the first time you’d actually sat and watched anything since you’d arrived on pandora. it was comforting yet so foreign at the same time.

“can i touch your hair?”

you looked up at him, your eyes wide and your cheeks red. you had not expected that question. all you could do was blink.

“sure…” you whispered.

so carefully you weren’t sure if he even touched you, tsu’tey ran his hand over the top of your head. his ears perked and his tail swished against the metal floor.

“soft…” he murmured, purely infatuated. “different than mine. so…thin. like very fine twine strings.”

“well, you are like twelve feet tall.” you said with a small laugh. he could’ve easily crushed you in the palm of his hand if he wanted to. “everything about you is bigger than me.”

“your chest is big.” tsu’tey said, looking down at your breasts.

you couldn’t help but laugh. nodding, you said, “yeah. i told you, human women have bigger chests than na’vi women.”

“can i touch?” he asked, extending a hand towards you.

you were quick to cover your breasts and gawked at him. “no! are you crazy?”

“why not?” tsu’tey asked. he moved closer to you and tilted his head. now more so than ever, he was entirely cat-like. it took looking at him through human eyes to see it. “is it because you are in this body and not your na’vi one?”

“yeah,” you breathed, looking away from him.

he pursed his lips the smallest bit. “can i kiss you?”

“jesus christ, are you in heat or something?” you asked.

“no, not now.” he said. he shrugged and flicked his head towards you. “i am just…curious. i want to kiss you as you and see if it is the same.”

“just a kiss?” you glanced at him.

“just one.” he nodded, sitting on his hands as if to promise you he wouldn’t do anything more than that.

slowly, you pushed yourself up. standing in front of him, you were level enough. your heart raced in your chest as he stared at you. he took in every movement you made. he tensed as you neared and that made you even more nervous.

“this is weird…” you said, pulling back the smallest bit.

“no,” he insisted. he reached out a hand that ghosted along the small curve of your back. “it’s not.”

you swallowed your embarrassment alongside your pride as you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss onto his lips.

sparks shot through you from your head to your toes.

when you pulled back, his pupils were so large you could hardly see the yellow of his eyes. his tail smacked into the metal frame of the bunk bed and thumped wildly against the floor. as your cheeks reddened and reddened and reddened his ears perked up and up and up.

“why are you red?” he asked softly.

“i’m flustered…” you whispered.

tsu’tey smiled. “it was good.”

“it was good,” you said with a small, quick nod.

“again?” he asked, leaning forward. “to make sure.”

you couldn’t help but laugh.

he smiled as you reached up and placed your hands on his face. he dipped his head down and kissed you again, softly and sweetly. kisses like these were much different from how he kissed you when you were the same size and same blue shade.

“good,” he purred. his lips curled into a smile as he reached down to pull the mask to his face. he took a few deep breaths. “very good.”

you could only watch him in awe. you sat down in front of him and tried to wipe the blush from your cheeks. of course, it didn’t work. not even a little bit. he hunched over to be more level with you and it made you giggle.

he was just too big.

too large.

too handsome.

he was even more striking to the human eye.

you sat quietly as he picked up your hand and examined your five little fingers. he was intrigued by your pinky. to him, it was an extra pinky. with his four thick fingers, your hand seemed so frail and dainty. he touched the lines of your palm and smiled to himself as you shivered at the sensation.

“it is strange,“ tsu’tey said lowly. “how you are so different and still so the same…i thought it would be hard to recognize you. hard to see you with this face and not that face…but it is not hard.”

you curled your whole hand around his index finger and pulled it close. you placed his hand on your chest. your heart beat below his palm. he met your eyes and his ears perked. it made you smile.

“i see you.” you whispered.

tsu’tey leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled to himself, enjoying the way your little heart beat so strong under the tips of his fingers as he neared.

“i see you,” he said like a promise.

this chapter was so much fun to write :P i love soft tsu’tey!!!! hope you guys enjoyed. lmk your thoughts <3 as always, thanks for reading!! — moony

tag list — @plantgirliewholovespandora

#avatar 2009 #avatar 2009 fan fic #avatar driver reader #james cameron avatar #navi x avatar driver #tsutey #tsutey x you #jake sully #neytiri

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chemblrish · 4 months ago

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Hey Lena, any tips for how to make friends in uni as a nerdy but introverted/socially anxious girlie? 🥺 thank youu

Hi!

I need you to know I saw this ask and immediately thought, "Did I just get a message from my past self?" 😅 Nerdy and introverted? Check. Used to have very bad social anxiety? Check. I was in therapy though and it was immensely helpful! I'm still a little shy but doing incomparably better, so I can tell you what I've learnt and hopefully some of it can help you too :)

Excuse the language, but first of all, you need to give yourself a fucking break. Shy people, we tend to fixate on ourselves: our looks, our posture, on whether what we just said was weird, and so, all our flaws (both real and imaginary) appear magnified tenfold - but only to us. Because truth is, nobody else is judging you half as harshly as you're judging yourself. Nobody is analyzing all your jokes or the way you walk. If you trip or say something awkward, it genuinely doesn't matter. It happens to everybody sometimes, it's okay. Remember that there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe you're shy, maybe you're easily overwhelmed, maybe you have very little experience making friends - but none of these make you inherently weird. So give yourself a break. You're sincerely doing a lot better than you think, I promise.

Small talk is actually not a bad thing, no matter what some edgelords may try to tell you. I used to spark up a lot of conversations early on in uni by bringing up things like the last test (because most of the time I'd get a mildly pained sigh in response and then we'd bond over how hard it was and how the professor was crazy lol) or the upcoming lab class ("Any interesting exercises in your schedule?") or how my commute to uni that day wrecked me and hey are you a commuter? Oh, you live in a dorm, how do you like it? And many other things of this sort, because if you think about it, uni is a neverending source of conversation topics when you're a student talking to another student.

You know how shy people are advised to just ask questions because everybody loves talking about themselves? That's not a bad advice. The trick is to be genuinely curious about other people. Don't ask just to say something, ask to hear what that other person has to say. This is helpful for two reasons: it takes the focus away from you (which is exactly where shy people shouldn't keep it) by directing it at the other person, and it actually helps to keep the conversation going, because it allows you to find either another thing that might interest you about that person or something to share about yourself.

Maybe it's obvious, but don't hide yourself. I know it's a lot easier to just curl up in a corner with your phone, but you gotta put yourself out there. Hang out with the rest of your course mates outside the lecture hall as you're all waiting for the professor. Take your time packing up afterwards instead of dashing straight for the exit. Don't look for that secluded spot where you can hide safely with a book (even though your introvert instinct tells you to do just that), be where the other students hang out.

Sometimes you have to keep choosing someone. Storytime with a moral: I took a liking to one of my current friends very early in the first semester. She seemed like exactly the kind of person I wanted to stick with in uni. I'd always come up to her and talk to her first but she hardly ever did the same. For some time I'd think, "Welp, clearly she doesn't dislike me, but she doesn't seem to like me much either." Now I can't even remember when that changed, but in an honest conversation we had maybe last month (so after almost two years of knowing each other!!), she told me she often struggles with figuring out whether someone likes her and wants her around or not, so she usually just stays away. You aren't the only introvert out there. Maybe the person you're trying to befriend is also a little anxious and needs a bit more time and effort from you. Don't give up too easily!

Not all people are your people and that's okay. You'll find that trying to talk to someone continuously feels like a chore no matter your good intentions. That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you or with them. Everybody can't click with everybody and that's fine!

And lastly: "different friends for different things" is a liberating philosophy. Maybe there's this one person in this one class that you always sit with and get along with well, but it doesn't seem like either of you wants to take it any further than that. Cool! That's your buddy X from Y class. Not everyone has to be your bestie who knows all your secrets and shares all your interests. Be open to the concept of casual friends, so that you don't miss out on the more meaningful relationships by chasing someone who's just not feelin' it if you know what I mean.

Good luck my fellow introvert. Remember getting better at making friends is a process but also a skill that can be practiced and polished. You got this, I'm rooting for you!

#i hope these can be helpful #i remember the absolute hell of watching everyone around bond and make friends and just being there like 👁️👄👁️#and i really do think with shyness especially the key step is to give yourself that fucking break #there's nothing wrong with you relax everyone else is only human too #inbox

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southstardrabbles · 2 months ago

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storm front #1 - a new normal

content: very brief mentions of violence/cannibalism, mentions of a previous lab setting, some implications of human experimentation

-------------

For weeks, hunger has been the only constant. Gnawing and restless and bone-deep, a particularly strong pang of it forces Nightfall awake. He cracks an eye open as if hoping that his surroundings might have changed while he slept.

The only change, of course, is the light. The last rays of sun filter through the trees, casting long shadows over the forest floor as daylight slips away. He lays there and watches it for a moment, curled in on himself to conserve warmth.

At times, he’s wondered if he should go back to the lab, if they’d even allow him. Could he just crawl back and hope the guards wouldn’t shoot him on sight? Could he limp back to safety with his tail between his legs and submit himself to their judgment again? Something ugly in his chest twists at the idea—whether it’s because he’s too proud or too stubborn, he refuses to entertain the thought for too long. Regardless, Nightfall remembers enough of the carnage from that night to know that even if they accepted him, things could never be the same.

But even when he resigns himself to this new existence, it still leaves the question of survival. In the weeks that have passed since his escape he’s only eaten twice: the unfortunate nurse who tried to stick him with a sedative, and then weeks later, an injured deer on the side of some nameless country road. All that matters is that it hasn’t been enough. He’s running on fumes as it is.

Everything is only made worse when he's forced to confront the fact that he underestimated how difficult it would be to find food. He’s long since lost his taste for plants, and hunting is even worse. He’s yet to get used to this strange body, a body primed for violence but lacking the speed and agility he needs to fend for himself.

But his senses are still sharp. While he’s still breathing, he’s still alive. He can pull himself together one more time.

It takes him a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps, then a second longer for his reflexes to decide whether he should consider it food or danger. By the time he’s even sat up, though, the stranger comes into sight. Though he instinctively pulls down the hood of his jacket to keep some sense of normalcy—pass himself off as some homeless person looking for a place to sleep—she’s already gotten a look at his face and he’s gotten a look at hers.

The stranger is a tall, slender figure with warm brown eyes. Unlike him, she’s dressed for the weather—a thick jacket, gloves, and a scarf draped loosely around her shoulders like a contingency. A large knife sits in a leather sheath at her hip. She looks at him and she smiles.

“Hey… are you alright?”

He stares at her blankly. Is he hallucinating?

“Sorry, I was just passing through... you look pretty rough. Do you need help?”

His answer is a simple reflex. “Do you have anything to eat?” His mouth is hopelessly dry—when he speaks it's hardly even a whisper. But if she has anything, anything to eat, even just a few scraps, he’s more than happy to overlook her total disregard for his appearance.

“Not here,” she says with a shake of her head, “but I have plenty back at my house.” She pauses, looks him over, and adds, “You can come with me if you’d like. You must be freezing.”

“Please.” He sounds a lot more desperate than he’d like to admit, but she’s already offering him a hand—a hand he readily accepts, the first human contact he's felt in months.

“Alright, alright, come with me.” She chuckles and helps Nightfall to his feet, then keeps walking without even bothering to give him a second glance over her shoulder.

He follows her, of course. How could he not? Trailing along behind her like a massive shadow, he stares at the back of her head and thinks. She’s something different yet so familiar, something he vaguely remembers from a lifetime ago—a lifetime of faces and voices that have since been erased, leaving nothing for him but the most basic idea of how to be a person.

He’s not a person anymore, not really. He’s been relegated to his instincts, hiding away from prying eyes, but even as an animal he doesn’t know how to live. Maybe she sees that in him, the need for some kind of foothold. If he can just start again, get a better hand dealt to him…

“Mind if I ask your name, by the way?” The stranger’s voice is soft, but it cuts through the silence like a razor.

He stops, thinks, sorts through his memories and comes back with nothing. All that remains is the most basic identification they gave him—a project name and a number branded into his skin with red ink. But it’s all he has.

“Nightfall,” he finally murmurs. “You can call me Nightfall.”

She hums and nods in approval, tucking her hands into her pockets. “I’m Rain. Nice to meet you.”

“I… yeah.” He itches with the urge to reach out, shake her hand or something, remind himself that this is real, but she’s keeping a pace that won’t let him hesitate for a moment without falling behind. “Nice to meet you too.”

---

There’s effectively no conversation for the rest of the walk—for Nightfall it’s agonizing, but Rain seems comfortable enough in the silence. When she unlocks the door to the front of her house and lets him in, it suddenly occurs to him how long it’s been since he’s been inside a house at all. He stands there, waiting, as Rain shuts the door behind them and drops her keys on a small table nearby.

For a house in effectively the middle of nowhere, it’s a pretty nice place: warm, spacious, well-furnished. It smells of wood and fresh spices and at least from the entryway, everything seems spotless. Nothing out of place.

“Don’t just stand there,” Rain chuckles with a gentle nudge to his arm, “come on. Settle down and I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

It’s tough for Nightfall to pinpoint, but that might be the exact moment that everything kicks in. After weeks of clinging on by a thread, after countless days of trying to go through the motions, it’s over. His body practically moves on autopilot as he walks to the living room and collapses onto the couch.

Even though he’s only been awake for a short while, the exhaustion in his system is nothing short of bone-deep. It’s the kind he knows sleep can’t fix, a tiredness he remembers from a lifetime ago, perhaps one that never left him to begin with. Sleep still tempts him, but he forces himself to stare at the ceiling and listen to the sounds of Rain preparing something in the adjacent room. She hums quietly to herself, some tune he doesn’t recognize accompanied by the occasional sound of dishes or silverware clinking.

After a few minutes Rain comes back into the living room—the meal she’s prepared is simple to say the least, but Nightfall is willing to take whatever he's given. She hands him a bowl of soup and sets a glass of water on a side table, then sits on the other side of the couch to keep a comfortable distance.

“Don’t eat too fast,” she advises him. “I’m sure you’re starving, but if you have too much you’ll get sick.”

It's difficult to take her advice—god is it difficult, but he forces himself to pick away at the food bit by bit. Better to eat slowly than fuck it up and end up worse than he started. It doesn’t help that Rain is silent the entire time, just watching him eat. It's only once he finishes eating and starts nursing his drink at a more sensible pace that she finally says anything.

“So… what brings you around here?”

The answer comes from him a little too easily. “Didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Homeless?”

“Something like that.”

She hums thoughtfully and nods. “Well, you're welcome to crash here if you need a place to stay. I'd hate to let you freeze to death out there.”

Nightfall isn't sure if he's physically able to freeze to death, what with all the weird new features of his physiology, but he can't refuse the offer. He’d be an idiot to waste his one shot at a half-civilized life. Not to mention Rain seems… different. He still can’t figure out why the sight of him hasn’t scared her off. Maybe she knows something else that can help him.

“That… would be nice,” he finally whispers.

Rain smiles, leans over, and pats him on the shoulder. “Then you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Let’s go ahead and get you settled in, alright?” Rain stands up and gestures for him to follow. “I have a guest room ready upstairs that you’re free to use.”

The second floor of Rain’s house is just as meticulously kept as the first, small paintings and photographs hung throughout the hallways. Most of the doors here are shut, but the one at the end of the hall is slightly ajar and seems to open into some kind of office—Nightfall tries to get a better look inside, but Rain’s already leading him down a different turn before he gets to see anything. She stops in front of another open door, a large but sparsely decorated bedroom.

“I know it’s not much, but…” She smiles, looking a little embarrassed. “It should be fine for now. I can always go into town and fetch some decorations if you want.”

Nightfall stands in the doorway for a few long seconds. This, by all his standards, is all he could ever ask for. It’s a far cry from the shared quarters he used to be familiar with, dozens of people and dozens of bunk beds lined up in one long room. The idea that this is his, entirely private…

“It’s perfect,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” she tells him, starting to turn away. “I have a bit of work to finish up, but come talk to me if you need something, alright? I’ll be right down the hall.” Once he nods in agreement, she leaves without another word.

The first thing Nightfall does with his newfound free time is shower.

He sits under the spray for what feels like an eternity, dirt and grime slowly coming free from his hair, his skin, under the nails he’s let grow and sharpen into claws. He lets the water run until the heat colors his skin with blotches of red and the air thickens with steam, right on the verge of too much but still within the realm of comfort.

He feels lighter when he finally shuts the water off and steps out of the tub, wiping the condensation from the mirror. The figure that looks back at him… he had no idea what to expect, but it wasn’t this. He stares at the marks littering his body, the huge Y of silvery scar tissue sprawling across his chest. Though he can’t see the source of it in this lighting, he still feels the slow pulse of magic through his veins like a second heartbeat. For as long as he can clearly remember, it’s always been there. Always present. Always radiating a power he can’t hope to control.

He dries himself off and walks back to his room. The door to Rain’s office is closed now, but he can hear the faint murmur of conversation from behind it. He leaves it be.

With the sun finally sinking below the horizon outside, the only thing he can manage to do is lay down on his bed and close his eyes—just a bit of rest, he tells himself.

A few hours later, he wakes to the sound of shattering glass from downstairs.

#whump #whump blog #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #oc #oc writing #nightfall oc #rain oc #storm front

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dansconcepts · 5 months ago

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Everything's Coming Up Hajime

The following drabbles (they're little scenes of different things with some more detailed than others because a fic was too ambitious for me :'>>>) completely and wholly inspired by and dedicated to @gliittergelpens for their headcanon post on Hajime (found here) and also the connected follow up interaction here. Go check 'em out :D! And I hope you enjoy this :).

Bleary lights. Bright. Dreary.

Alone.

NO!

Bolt, bolted, he can’t move, why can’t he move? Everything’s not okay, why is he here again? Where are they? Get to the corner, get to the corner, he can’t move he can’t move!- (why is he prolonging the inevitable? He hasn’t done that in so long)

Pressure starts compounding on his chest. He shakes. He doesn’t want to go again, it’s going to be another round of tests again, he didn’t know he agreed to this! Let go, let go, let GO!

“Hajime.”

They never call him that. He is the subject, their project, the plaything to rip apart because he is nothing more than an experiment. He is not a person. He is not Hajime.

“Hajime.” They repeat. “It’s Makoto.”

Makoto?

He doesn’t recognize-

Makoto Naegi.

He blinks. His body slumps. As if his body was lead, his head slowly turns toward the source.

“Makoto Naegi” was never one of the researcher’s names. He knows, because he remembered each and every one, even if he didn’t want to. No, Makoto Naegi is someone else entirely, someone who isn’t associated with the Project.

Sage-coloured irises meet his gaze first. They are warmer than any of the researchers’ eyes.

…He isn’t in a lab, is he?

“Muh-” He winces. His voice sounds terrible.

“Hey, drink up.” Makoto commands, not unkindly. “I know you’ve been in there for a while, but try your best.”

A glass of water is held to his lips and once they hit, his lips burn, but he downs it gratefully anyway. His throat protests in agony.

“Do you know where you are and what happened, Hajime?”

Hajime stretches, pops coming from all his atrophied joints. “W-we- ugh, Jabberwock Island. K-cough-illing game.” The Killing Game. At the reminder, adrenaline starts coursing through him, and he immediately lurches out of the pod.

Makoto gently pushes him back.

“Yes. The other survivors are awake, but they do not hold the memories you do.”

“W-what about everyone else? What happened to them?”

“They’re still in the pods.” He tries jumping out again. “BUT!” Makoto blurts out. “BUT they’re okay. They’re not in the killing game right now. They seem to have created their own worlds-”

“What can I do to wake them up?” He quickly interrupts.

“Oh, um, I was going to get to that part.” A small smile stretches on his face. “I knew you’d want to help. I would’ve been the same.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Darkness.

He feels so tired.

He hasn’t felt this tired in… so long. Everything… is so tiring.

Lights threaten to blind him.

No.

Let him sleep.

Let him sleep…

“Hey, Nagito... it’s Hajime.”

He stirs. Hajime?

He looks at the tanned skin, eyeing the scars on the undersides of his eyes, further littered over his arms, and then tracing back to his equally scarred lips, that were currently sipping on a cup in his hands.

“Ha-jime.” He croaks. Wordlessly, Hajime provides him some water. With weak hands, he reaches out toward the cup, and manages to squeeze enough of a firm grasp on it. Hajime continues sipping while he slowly gulps down the offered water.

“Ahem,” He coughs. “Hinata, my apologies. …What happened?”

“You’re one of the last few to wake up, Komaeda.” Hajime replies, and notably, provides no context. “What do you remember?”

The question sparks his silence. His mouth purses into a deeply thin line. He eyes the man in front of him. Is there something he must have forgotten? “...Nothing particularly pleasant.” He decides on.

Hajime scrutinizes him. He stays quiet. Hajime slumps over with a sigh. “Okay, fair enough. Your pod opened, but you wouldn’t wake up. You’re in the hospital now.”

He looks around. Yes, he gathered that. The white walls and bright fluorescent lighting weren't foreign to him, he would recognize such a place no matter where he was. He could voice that, but there are more pressing concerns.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. How did I get here?”

“We went through a rehabilitation program.”

“Ah.” The memories are hitting him now. “Yes, sorry, I do remember us Remnants being captured for such a thing, although I don't remember much else.” He hums, looking the other up and down. “It worked, then?”

“That depends. How do you feel? About, you know, hope and despair and all that.”

“Well,” He chuckles, “if you’re worried I’m going to blow up this hospital in the pursuit of ‘a greater hope’, you would be greatly mistaken.”

Hajime breathes out a sigh of relief. “But I imagine my luck could affect that greatly. It's very fortunate you could balance it out.” The other gazes away from him, looking down in thought. How curious. Was it something he said?

He subtly tilts his head. The brunet covertly glances around, as if he was watching for something. Piercing eyes returns to meet his. “You can't get up to any crazy shit just because I can do that.” The other jokingly chastises, but his eyes remained guarded.

He nods with an smile. “Oh, I would never.” To anyone, it would simply be him teasing. However, he can tell Hajime's trying to hide something about his talents, and someone here is watching them. He wonders who would cause such paranoia.

Hajime fills him in on what occurred, being saved by the "Future Foundation" (oh, it's them.) and particularly specific members (Makoto! As in Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Hope Makoto? Yes Komaeda, just keep it in your pants.), as well as explaining Nagito’s status, his mental and physical state (still affected by his pre-existing conditions, albeit less so), and the new addition to his body.

He turns it. He didn't even notice he had a new arm. It feels seamless, although the metal is strange to feel underneath his fingertips.

“I had to replace it.” Hajime explains. “The dead tissue was threatening to spread to the rest of your body if it was kept there. It was fine when we were hooked up to the pods since that was preserving it, but since you went into a coma, we had to act fast.”

“Hmm.” He curls his newfound metallic fingers. He sends him a smile. “It seems I owe a lot of my gratitude to you, Hinata, for helping trash like me.”

There's a pause. “We'll work on that,” is the response Hajime settles with. “...Do you want to meet everyone else?”

He freezes. Everyone else?

Although he doesn't know why, he feels himself pale completely and his body shivers. Everything in him feels cold, as if the temperature dropped, as if his whole body rejected the very idea of something he was otherwise only semi-wary about. He knows he had many reasons before to feel apprehensive around his former classmates, given his past transgressions during his time as a Remnant and theirs, but this feels... bone-chilling. Buried deep within his psyche, perhaps connected to the memories he doesn't have.

“What happened in the program.” He bluntly states, rather than asks.

“No one else remembers too, if that helps.” Hajime starts. It doesn't. “Even I barely remember it. Everyone has felt snippets though, things they avoid subconsciously, or they experience nightmares about it.” He wonders if Hajime has nightmares. He wonders what Hajime avoids. “It was broadcast-”

“I want to watch it.”

Hajime's jaw tightens. “It wasn't that type of broadcast. It wasn't recorded, it was just shown to Makoto and the other survivors. Besides, it's best you don't anyway. You're going to remember something about it.”

“How cynical. What if all I remember are pleasant things?” Nagito inquires, even if he knows the likelihood of that is so astronomically low. He is aware of himself. He knows being put into a situation like the Killing Game would just mean he'd have made very elaborate plans and schemes. Thinking that, a sharp pain in his abdomen sears through him, and he winces. It's a whisper of a feeling, but it felt... real.

Hajime merely lets out a defeated sigh. “I hope it is, Komaeda, I hope it is.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Throughout everything, this was the last thing he thought about.

The scars.

For the longest time, he forgot about the scars. For the briefest of moments, his complexion wasn’t completely covered by raised bumps, of angry red tissue, of the careless abandon from scientists who dissected him to fit their molds of perfection.

And now he’s left looking into the mirror, tracing. His fingers feel the ridges. He remembers the scalpel digging into his eye, even if he didn’t feel the pain of it. He looks at the angry lines along his muscles, his thighs, and he knows with certainty it can be traced down to his feet, the bathroom counter being the only reason he can’t see the reflection of it. He remembers exactly what they forcibly fused together, being haunted by the ghosts of the sutures that were once there.

This is who he sees looking back at him.

…Mikan cleans the glass away from his fist.

[He could’ve done it himself, but it would’ve been a messier job, much like with anything else he would try nowadays.]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime is out training with Nekomaru, alongside Akane, and casually working out with them.

Nekomaru points out the bandages that suddenly replace his glove, and he waves them off. “Just an accident.”

After a decent workout, he starts heading back to his cabin to shower when he spots Fuyuhiko to the side, relaxing against a wall.

“Hey.” He greets.

“Yo.” The former yakuza head nods.

They watch those on the beach, a tall orange blurb chases after a red one, their laughter filling the air as suddenly they're jumped by an even louder multicoloured blurb cackling with mischief. He can hear Hiyoko's distant cursing while Mikan rushes over, fretting. He snorts.

Fuyuhiko crosses his arms, a smile on his face at the scene. “Can’t believe we get to have this.”

“I know.” He agrees. He’d do anything to ensure everyone here stayed happy like this. Speaking of, he has to make sure to check on the next shipment of supplies afterward. He refuses to have those Future Foundation workers anywhere near the Island otherwise. But first, shower.

He's about to leave when-

“What’s with the bandages?” The former yakuza asks.

He contemplates lying. The last thing he wants is for everyone to start worrying about him. As if aware of his thoughts, Fuyuhiko sends him a particularly scathing glare, menacing even with the eyepatch. He fesses up immediately.

“I punched a mirror.”

“Why?”

“My scars-” He starts.

Fuyuhiko quickly interjects. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Part of me understands that, but I look at them and just see…” Hope's Peak. The Hope Cultivation Project. The Remnants of Despair. He squeezes his bandaged hand. “...bad memories.”

“Yeah, I feel that.” Almost subconsciously, Hajime glances at Fuyuhiko’s scar, hidden behind black cloth. Fuyuhiko meets his gaze, unflinching. “I hate thinking about having that bitch’s eye in me.”

“How do you do it?” How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How do you live with yourself? How do you not hate yourself?

“Being a former yakuza, scars were symbols of respect. This scar?” He gestures to it. “It’s a reminder I’m not some psychotic fuck anymore under that bitch’s heel.

I know I’m not you, Hajime. I don’t have the amount you have. But know that your scars show that you’ve survived, and you’ve made it out the other side. That’s admirable.

And ain’t nobody here went through the type of shit you did. We all look up to you. You’ve had this whole thing on your shoulders. Nobody thinks you’re damaged goods with those scars. Hell, we think of them as a reminder that you’re the strongest out of all of us.”

“...Thanks, Fuyuhiko.”

“No problem. Now you should go take a shower, you smell like shit.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime waits in front of the screen. In no time, Chiaki's grinning face pops up. “Hey Hajime. It's nice to see you. How're you doing today?”

They talk amicably. Even though she wasn't his former friend, the reminder of her AI was comforting, and in the few pleasant dreams he had, he remembered her presence (and in the worser ones, he remembered her death).

“-There's a call for you by the way, I think. It's from Makoto.” He nods. “Thanks Chiaki.”

She patches him through, and he finds it so striking the difference between now and the tentativeness from the beginning, back when they were still establishing Jabberwock Island. Signal seemed daunting, and they (him, Makoto, and Byakuya) were still trying to get Chiaki's AI booted back up. He remembers when they first suggested she try to call the Future Foundation (particularly Aoi, since Hajime refused to have the new Future Foundation head or some random member appear on the screen, since he'd contemplate breaking the nice monitor in half from sheer rage). “It's not what I’m programmed to do,” Chiaki had said, “but… I can try.”

Of course, Makoto and himself exchange pleasantries and talk for a bit, but then it derails into... less pleasant topics. “I'm hoping to finish up the layout for Hope's Peak.”

He tightens a hand over his glove, pursing his lips. “Makoto. I’m glad you want to reclaim yourself, but Hope’s Peak? Really?” He hisses, and Makoto sighs, as if they had this same argument over and over again.

They have, by the way. Relentlessly. He is NOT getting over this, not by a long shot. He already knows how much Makoto invested into the project, but he’s still of the very firm belief he should’ve invested zero. Of course, he wouldn’t taint their rare ability to chat with one another about it, but he isn’t above reminding Makoto if he brings it up, just to be petty.

But being TRAUMATIZED WATCHING YOUR FRIENDS GET MURDERED is one of the many valid reasons for having absolutely NO interest in seeing the place that tortured him, everyone he cares about, Makoto, everyone Makoto cares about, and basically THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD, come back to existence.

He loves Makoto, he does, and he knows Makoto’s a good guy, but…

The idea of Hope’s Peak not being some fucked up breeding ground for hope and despair? It doesn’t seem possible. Part of the problem in the first place was the idea of pitting students against each other, forcibly defining people's significance based on whether they had “talent” or not. As well, they really sucked at developing talented people's talent, giving arbitrary assignments (from what he heard) and no actual practicality applied. He would know. His body is literally littered with their failure.

And the Future Foundation providing a substantial amount of the funds for this project? Hajime has no doubt in his mind that there’s something underlying their generosity.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's looking to be another sleepless night, despite the weight under his eyes begging for relief. Hajime just stares at the ceiling. He feels the body beside him shift the bed, creaking it ever so slightly, and in his peripherals Nagito faces him. Nagito has always been a bit of a restless sleeper (not that he blames him), so he isn't surprised to hear him ask, “What’s on your mind, Hajime?”

He sighs. “I’m just worried about the whole Hope's Peak idea.”

“You don’t believe in Makoto?”

He quickly flips onto his side to frown at Komaeda for the sheer idea. “I believe in him, I don’t believe in anyone else.”

“Well, I can’t help but feel a little hurt…”

“You know how I feel about you.”

Nagito hums. “Do I?” He smirks. “How do you feel, Hajime?”

Why is he turned this way again? He flips back around, ignoring the way his ears start to warm up.

“...Shut up and go to sleep already.”

He hears Nagito chuckle behind his back. It settles eventually though. Ah, Nagito finally went to bed.

“You know,” Nagito's voice pipes up, still awake after all. His voice sounds a little whimsical, as if nearly about to sleep. “I don't necessarily disagree with you. I thought it was a place of great hope, and the fact it's being run by the Ultimate Hope is quite amazing. But...

There's you. And the hope in you has been shining so brightly this whole time.”

He freezes. Did he just-?

The words spark something in him. As if they sounded familiar.

He gets a rush that tea- nor even caffeine back when it did anything for him- has never achieved. When he eventually does sleep that night, his dreams are pleasant.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's one of those rare instances Makoto lands on Jabberwock Island and can say hi to everyone. They meet at the small restaurant on the Island where Hajime prepares some tea for himself. He offers it to Makoto, who takes it gratefully.

Much like their video chats, the start talking about what's currently going on when Makoto- once again- mentions Hope's Peak.

Hajime lowers his cup.

“I'm going to be reinstating talents at Hope’s Peak.”

His fingers clutch his glove. He digs them in, sharp and quick, his lips immediately pulling down into a frown.

“Did… someone force you to do this?”

“Uh, no?” Makoto averts his gaze. “I’ve consulted with basically everyone since you’ve started getting me a little paranoid…”

“You should be. The Future Foundation doesn’t deserve you. You’re way too good for them.”

“They're trying to change.” Makoto states, with not much conviction.

Hajime hums skeptically. Sure they are. “Just watch out for yourself, yeah? Because the first thing I’ll do is leave this island just to kick their asses. I don’t need an Ultimate to make them into ragdolls.”

Makoto chuckles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “...You must’ve practiced that.”

“Being around Fuyuhiko and Akane tends to give you some badass lines.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It starts like a regular day. Things break, people fight, problems arise, he deals with it. When he sees the broadcast, he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Oh, Makoto's on TV. How exciting.” Nagito mentions offhandedly, as if it was something as casual as the weather. It decidedly is NOT. Is Makoto okay? Why would he be broadcasted? Is this another...?

“-ing Hope's Peak,” He catches the tail end of. “In this world, there's nothing more important than banding together to fix the Tragedy that occurred. Rejoice with me as your new headmaster. Alongside the Future Foundation, we'll bring forth a new hope together!” Hajime cringes, and cringes hard. This doesn't sound like Makoto at all. The Future Foundation logo is the last image of this blatant ad, what the fuck, but he's seen enough.

He knows exactly how to deal with this.

He strolls into the new Future Foundation headquarters (although that may be underselling it). Instantly, upon seeing him, people start shrieking and running. Red lights blink in and out. He brushes it off. It’s the last of his damn worries right now.

He's rushed by armoured guys. He suddenly feels like he should've thought this through, but he continues on. He slips himself into the old Remnant persona like an ill-fitting jacket, paired with a little Ultimate Actor prowess. “Let me through or I'll make sure your families have nothing to put into a casket.” Okay, not his best work, but it's enough for them to back off. They watch him. He even hears one guy cowering in fear from behind. It's that which allows him to catch the guy's arm and dislocate it. Everyone jumps at the sudden violence, and the guy screeches.

He knows it's fixable, but he still feels bad. The mask he wears threatens to slip, but he keeps going until he gets to the new Future Foundation head. (Hajime met her before through a forced video call, with them threatening to interfere at Jabberwock Island if he wasn't capable enough. “I am Sumiko Hatanaka,” they introduced themselves. “Ultimate Administrator. Given the circumstances the Future Foundation is currently in, I have become appointed as the temporary replacement head provided my previous experience and commitment to my work.”)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” He sneers.

“How are you here?” She asks. “What are you doing here?”

“That wasn’t my question.”

He sees a sheen of nervousness across their forehead, but they don't let up their frown.

“Why are you here, Hajime Hinata, Remnant of Despair?”

Why is he here? Why is he HERE?

“What gave you the right to use Makoto for some ad for Hope's Peak? What the hell are you doing, exposing him further to the public? Do you know what this could do to him?”

“I assure you, I have no vested interest in letting a valued employee be defaced in any way, shape, or form. His mental faculties are highly important to this company. Meanwhile, you are jeopardizing the very people you wished to protect by coming here. Was it worth it?”

He growls, “Leave Makoto the fuck alone, or I’ll remind you why I was a Remnant.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Makoto’s Hope’s Peak is in full operation. He doesn't know if he'll ever visit. So instead, Hajime is left pondering the future, and living on the Island with the rest of his classmates.

He genuinely hopes nothing bad will happen, but...

He wouldn't bet that it won't.

#hajime hinata #danganronpa #sdr2 #the whole class of sdr2 #future foundation #makoto naegi #nagito komaeda #komahina #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #drabbles #long post #tw gore #but like canon-typical i think #i don't get that descriptive it's just like in-game stuff #references to the killing game (including deaths)#im so glad for these hcs bc i learned how much i love hajime and seeing him be able to vent and be reminded he's loved #(spoilers for this) the title is ironic #even when i was writing this i thought hajime going to ff hq was kinda ooc but i did it bc would love the ff catching hajime's hands #oc mention #that i created purely just for this idk i couldnt think of anyone fitting since i dont know much about the FF #this was roughly edited #i kinda have further ideas but we're sticking with this for now haha this is already pretty long

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cdyssey · 2 years ago

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Wreck

Summary: When Melissa's nana dies, Barbara is there for her.

CW: Death Discussion; Heavy Grief

AO3 Link

Melissa smooths her to-do list across her kitchen island with trembling fingers. Having been folded and unfolded several times over, marked upon profusely, tossed into her purse, crammed into her back pocket, unceremoniously stuffed into her bra at least twice, and probably stained with some cheap Chardonnay that her kid cousin picked up from Dollar General, the tear-out from a yellow legal pad has certainly seen better days.

But, hey, that’s nothin’ special.

She guesses she looks like a shit piece of paper too, all crinkled and creased, smudged and barely fit for perusal anymore.

Someone load her ass in a garbage truck and cart her off to the dump because she’s a wreck: fucked up, overwhelmed, annihilated, undone.

She doesn’t even feel like a human anymore.

Her nana died just around two days ago now, passing from the world about as peacefully as one could dare to imagine for a woman who’d been sick for the last ten months of her life. It was quiet in the end, as simple and as easy as falling asleep after a long, hard day. And the doctor-on-call promised that the sedative he was giving her would ensure that it was painless, which was a relief perhaps only because everything else leading up to that day had been so goddamn painful: the sickness, the waiting, the wrenching, bone-heavy grief.

(It was entirely possible to grieve someone who was still alive—to look at their utterly wasted body and understand that what was left was just a tangible echo, a breathing ghost.)

Melissa held her bony hand during that last hour and told her that it was okay to go—she’d be fine—and it was the first and only lie she’d ever told that saint of a woman in the entirety of her life.

She didn’t exactly ask forgiveness for doing so either.

She thought that if God knew anything about mercy, He’d understand and grant her this one sin: comforting that comfortless woman.

Nana had been ready to go, of course—sure, yeah, absolutely—she had known that it was her time for far longer than any of her headstrong relatives had been willing to admit. But she was so scared too: scared of leaving all her loved ones without their resilient matriarch, scared of their eventual (and perhaps inevitable) in-fighting, scared of a fractious future that she wouldn’t be around to mend with a homemade ziti dish and warm, jam-filled pie. She made Melissa promise—over and over again, ad infinitum—that she’d keep the Schemmenti clan together long after she was gone.

“Family’s all that we’ve got, Melly,” she once said. In the same way that Joe was the only person to call her Lissa, Nana was the only one to ever know her as Melly. It was a bit childish, maybe, but Melissa didn't mind. She always felt like she was twelve again when she was in her grandmother's presence: gap-toothed, impertinent, a hellion in patched overalls. “You gotta swear to me, on your Papa’s grave, that you’ll always remember that—no matter how balorde some of your aunts and uncles can be.”

“Nana!”She’d belly laughed at the time, bracing her hands on the edge of Nana’s steel-basin sink. They’d been in the kitchen together, as they so often were, peeling russet potatoes for her famous gnocchi recipe. This was at the very beginning of those long ten months when they both thought she just was just having bad arthritis flare-ups, perhaps. Her doctor was supposed to call sometime in the next few days with the results from her most recent labs...

“Those are your kids. You can’t just call ‘em stupid.”

(Even if it was expressly true.)

“Yeah, I can! I pushed them outta me, every one of ‘em eight or nine pounds a pop! Apple doesn’t fall far from the bush is what I say!”

It was the kind of statement that only her grandmother could pull off, something that made her want to snort and cry at the exact same time. She was outrageously funny, that stout, little woman, but she never seemed to think much of herself, especially when it came to education. She had to drop out of high school to work and help her parents raise their endless passel of kids, and then, before she knew it, she was poppin’ out little redheaded Sicilian Catholics of her own—Melissa’s own ma included.

Nana was so proud of her for making it through college and becoming a teacher, telling her as much every opportunity that she got, and constantly bragging about her accomplishments to her canasta group. She’d known how hard it was for Melissa at times.

Reading had always been a little challenging for her.

Taking exams could be a goddamn nightmare.

“Would you quit flippin’ saying that?” Melissa had rebutted, both exasperated and fond all at once, attempting to discipline her smirk into a reproving frown. “You’re not dumb either, Nana. Alright? Capito?"

She was the smartest person Melissa knew, high school diploma or not, for education was far from the same as intelligence in her book. There were plenty of eggheads out there with degrees coming out of their asses who didn't know how to haggle for the best cuts of beef or stay clear of certain Philly streets at night or change a flat with a crying kid on one hip and three more bouncin' around in the car. Before she had ever decided to become an elementary school teacher, those sorts of things were her only measures of how clever a person really was, and her grandmother had been the golden standard of them all—competent in a world that could be so arbitrary, needlessly complicated, and cruel.

At this, her sweet nana suddenly smiled, her dark eyes warmed by the golden light leaning in from the window above the sink. It was a sad smile and a profound one—the kind that little, old ladies always gave in the movies before they up and died, kickstarting the next act. It was accompanied by a slow shake of the head. She had her green rollers in; they shivered in time with the movement.

“Good God, I love you, Melissa,” she had murmured softly, each syllable laden with a certain gravity, as though she already suspected something about her health that Melissa didn’t, as though she had an inkling of what awaited her in the coming days, weeks, and months upon godawful, medicine and machine-filled months. Maybe Melissa should have known then herself—by that rare usage of her Christian name, by the way her stubborn-as-hell grandmother didn’t argue back—that something was horribly wrong.

But she hadn't.

Just ten months and some spare change ago, it was impossible for her to fathom a world where her nana wasn't in it.

She just accepted that love, basked in it, took it for granted even, and now, a little less than a year later, as she pores over a checklist of all the shit she’s gotta do to bury that precious lady—(so much, too flipping much)—she racks her exhausted brain and wonders if she’d said it back that time.

I love you too, Nana.

Of course, she’s said it about a gazillion times since then. Never left a conversation with the woman without doing so in case it was their last. But all the times she didn’t reciprocate those three words and every other missed or botched opportunity besides tangibly aches her chest, pounds upon it, like fists against an awful drum. Missed calls. Canceled lunch dates. Squandered chances to ask her about her storied life. The endless thank you she didn’t give that woman for practically raising her.

It’s irrational, of course, so goddamn stupid; she loved that woman endlessly and proved it in a thousand different ways.

But even still, what she wouldn’t give for one last tomorrow with her to tell her again and again.

Unbidden, unwanted, totally out-of-line and out-of-the-blue, tears threaten to spill over Melissa’s lashes and onto that yellow paper that’s already been to hell and back. She furiously swipes them away with the heel of her hand, doesn’t have the time to cry.

She’s still gotta call the Social Security Office and get Nana’s checks to stop comin’ through the mail. And after that, she has to take Joe’s suit to the dry cleaner ‘cuz her useless lump of a husband keeps forgetting. And when she gets back home—at who knows what time because she’s really gotta stop at the store and grab a few necessities—she desperately needs to go through Nana’s files again to see if she’s got that damn burial policy in there somewhere. Otherwise, they’re gonna have to pay for the service and the cremation out of pocket, even if she knows a guy who knows a guy who knows the funeral director, who can only get them an okay deal, which is fine.

It'll help, or at the very least, it won't hurt, but the crux of the sordid matter—the bottom line at the end of the shitty day—is that dying is so freakin' expensive.

“Fuck,” she groans, sliding her hand down until she’s palming her mouth. “Shit.”

No one ever talks about how the aftermath of death is just one cold bureaucracy after another: files, papers, tasks, and duties.

It’s unbearable.

Melissa alone has to bear it.

Her ma’s gone. Her remaining aunts and uncles are fragile. Her cousins aren’t any good with this kind of organizational crap. Her own goddamn sister’s been AWOL ever since the diagnosis, and the rest of her younger siblings haven’t done jack squat either.

It’s up to Melissa.

It always is.

That doesn't change just because someone she loved died.

The responsibilities simply take up the same air as the grief.

Just as she’s about to get started, though, reaching for her phone to start looking up numbers, her one saving grace walks in through the arched entranceway of the kitchen. Elegant as ever in a floral print blouse and black slacks, a plastic bag hanging off one arm, her comically huge purse on the other, is none other than—

“Barb,” she croaks, overwhelmed and overcome, weak-kneed with a relief that she just as immediately tries to hide. Vulnerability utterly terrifies her; it is one of the few house guests that she doesn’t know how to capably entertain.

“You don’t… y’know, you don’t have to come every day.”

But her best friend unfailingly has, bringing over various dishes and groceries, helping Melissa keep track of all the shit she needs to do, and oftentimes, just sitting next to her on her plastic-covered couch and holding her hand, palm-to-palm, their ten fingers intertwined. If Melissa has known any modicum of peace in this hellish last week, it’s only because Barbara Howard has deigned to carve out some for her, offering it to her like an alm.

God bless her—she even showed up before her nana passed away, when family and friends were just congregating in Melissa’s house, filtering in and out of the guest bedroom where Nana’s hospital bed was to say their goodbyes. And when death finally lifted Nana away—arriving as gently as a mother carrying her child to bed—Barbara’s warm arms were the first around Melissa, holding her so tightly, her lone defenses against collapsing into a million goddamn pieces on the floor.

Barbara would never let that happen, though.

She had her.

She would cradle all her shrapnel; she would salvage her from abyssal ruins.

“And you,sweetheart, know better than to think that’ll stop me,” Barbara laughs kindly, setting her purse and plastic bag on the kitchen island. There’s a twinkle in her dark eyes, a lovely playfulness curving her plum-colored lips. “I do as I please.”

“Stubborn fool,” Melissa chuckles hoarsely, a sudden thickness in the column of her throat. She’s always on the verge of crying over nothing nowadays: spilled wine on the counter, a sad headline on the news, smelling something in the kitchen that reminds her of her grandmother, being joked with, having companionship, being loved.

She knows that she’s been caught, too, by the way her friend gingerly skims her fingertips against her forearm.

It’s the lightest touch imaginable.

It nearly shatters her where she stands.

“Yes,” Barbara hums in gentle agreement, “that’s why we get along like two peas in an unshelled pod.”

“Hah,” she tries to smile. Her entire mouth feels like concrete. “Some pod.”

“Extraordinary peas, though, if I do say so myself,” the older woman declares with an air of finality as she starts to busy herself, pulling out a white takeout container and some utensils from the plastic bag. Even before she sees the familiar logo of a happy chef wedged in-between some blocky lettering, Melissa knows the rich, homely smell of fried chicken.

And not just any fried chicken, but—

“Danny's Wok?” Her eyebrows lift at least three inches from their exhausted lids. “Jesus, Barb, that’s all the way across town. You didn’t have to—“

But Barbara cuts her off with a raised hand, a familiar teacher pose. “But I wanted to and so I did. Now park your fine derrière on a stool and tell me what you would like to drink, girlfriend.”

“I’ve got things to do,” she protests weakly, gesturing at the to-do list still laying pathetically on the counter. She doesn't know why she's being so obstinate. Maybe it's just instinct; her immediate reaction to people offering help has always been a deep, gut-felt shame: shame that she can't do something by herself; shame that she's so weak, and someone else is stronger; shame that she isn't enough. (One of her deepest fears is that she's never been enough) Or maybe it's because she just doesn't want to think about the way that Barbara saying she had a nice ass made the contents of her stomach do a loop de loop.

“I can eat later.”

It’s not a sentence she’s said very often in her lifetime, and Barbara peers at her skeptically, damn well knowing this.

“But when’s the last time you did have a bite, Melissa? You look pale.”

“I had a piece of toast this morning,” she grunts uncomfortably, more than aware that it’s not sufficient by either of their standards. That was hours ago. According to the digital clock on her oven, it’s nearly five o’clock now.

But all truth being told, she hasn’t been particularly hungry in a while, not since the hospice worker sat her down a few days before Nana died and said that it’d be soon.Food has lost a lot of its flavor. Nausea is constantly doing laps around her digestive tract. She doesn’t know how to care about eating when this grief is taking up so much real estate in her body and never paying any of the rent.

“Hardly enough,” Barbara scolds predictably, first pushing the styrofoam tray in her direction, now shuffling towards the stainless steel fridge, no nonsense and all productivity. It's how she shows her love. “You need to put something substantial in your stomach, sweetheart. You'll be of no use to your list if you keel over on top of it."

“Okay, Ma,” she huffs, but it doesn’t have any real bite to it because she obediently unlatches the box anyway. She knows that Barbara is right, as she usually—(sometimes annoyingly)—is.

“Ma is correct,” the older woman hums, undeterred. “Someone needs to be responsible for you.”

It's hard not to feel chastised by such a statement, as though she's being patronized—a little kid in her own damn home; she attempts a weak smile anyway. It wobbles like a tricycle across the chapped line of her mouth.

“‘Cause I’m doing a shit job at it, yeah?”

Of course she is; she's a disaster with good hair.

“Absolutely not,” comes an exceedingly gentle reply, thrown over the other teacher's shoulder, landing as gently as a kiss. “It’s just that you seem to think it’s your God-given duty to be responsible for everyone else in this world except for yourself. Let me—no, wait, I insist upon—doing the same for you, Melissa."

A new lump surfaces to Melissa’s throat as she digests this unadulterated tenderness; it’s unfamiliar to her, even after so many years of receiving it from the angelic woman standing in her kitchen. She doesn’t know what to do with it. She holds it in her like a rain cloud, just waiting for it to pour.

“It’s scary that you have my number like this,” she finally says, and it’s the type of thing that she’s not supposed to mention aloud—she knows. She’s well aware. She’s spent an entire lifetime avoiding emotional honesty like it’s a summons for jury duty. But sometimes—if only sometimes, and usually only when a hell of a lot of booze is involved—she and Barbara can transcend their mutual understanding to never talk about the way they secretly look at each other when they think no one is watching and arrive at the undoctored truth of their shared experiences.

They know each other.

They love each other.

Far more intimately than should be allowed.

Barbara freezes where she stands, shoulders squared, hand gripping one of the fridge handles; she doesn’t turn around, possibly can't.

“Well... that’s what friends are for,” she returns in a stilted voice, picking her way around each individual phoneme like it's a landmine. It’s a warning tone even, begging Melissa not to press, and so Melissa doesn’t, swallowing painfully—just as submissive as a dog and far more devoted.

The sticky moment passes—it always does. Barbara retrieves a half-empty jug of sweet tea from the fridge, and Melissa slowly legs herself onto a stool next to the island. Her feet ache—her head, her chest, her entire goddamn body—but when Barbara joins her a few moments later, having poured them glasses of tea and grabbed napkins and condiments, both of them proceed as though nothing happened at all. Melissa picks at the chicken in an exercise of politeness, tearing off a little piece here or there and trying to chew it in slow, methodical bites.

It tastes like burnt rubber.

She attempts to wash it down with her drink, but the sickly sweetness of the tea just as quickly nauseates her.

Barbara can’t keep up the ruse of not paying attention to this sad ritual for very long.

“I can make you soup,” she offers pleadingly, already halfway off her own stool. "Potato? Broccoli-and-cheese? Vegetable?" Melissa places a hand on her leg to force her to sit down again.

“Nah, you’ve done enough,” she says firmly. “I... just don’t have it in me right now, Barb.”

And without flinching or glancing away, though every nerve in her body itches to bundle her present fragility away from view, she allows the other woman to search her face and confirm this unsavory truth. She bares every line and gaunt shadow; they surely adorn the curvature of her face like bruises.

“You can only do what you can do,” the older woman replies reluctantly, as though it’s the thing she knows she’s supposedto say and not necessarily what she actually believes. Melissa almost smiles at that assessment, smug in her assurance that it's the correct one. Barbara’s never been exceptionally good at hiding her feelings. People think that she is. Hell, even Barbara herself thinks she has others fooled.

But Melissa can see right through her, all those hundreds of things that she doesn’t say, that she entraps behind those tightly pursed lips for fear of being construed as ungodly. She thumbs through the Book of Barbara almost daily—with all the reverence that such a project deserves—and her diligence has rewarded her with all the beautiful fine print.

“Advice you gotta listen to yourself, hon,” she muses fondly, patting Barbara’s leg again before finally withdrawing her hand. “You’ve gone above and beyond for me these past few days. It’s not your fault I’ve got a sick stomach right now.”

“I know,” she admits in that same grudging tone, “but still, I’d do anything to make things better for you, Melissa, to relieve the burden on your shoulders even the tiniest bit.”

She gestures emphatically at the to-do list between them with one of her manicured friends.

“It’s far from fair that you’re in charge of all this when I know for a fact that you have other family members who are perfectly capable of helping to lighten the load. For instance”—she picks the paper up, scanning it briefly—”Joseph’s dry-cleaning! Why in God’s precious name isn’t your husband doing his own dry-cleaning?”

“He’s busy,” Melissa says in a clipped voice, less offended that Barbara is criticizing her husband than she is annoyed that her friend arrived at the same question that she did so easily. “At work. Fightin’ fires.”

Spending his paychecks on booze and scratchers and God only knows what else. Sometimes, he comes home smelling like strange perfume.

The kindergarten teacher emphatically shakes her head. “That doesn’t abscond him of his duty of being a responsible adult in a time of crisis.”

“Yeah, well—” She starts to defend him and then just as abruptly stops, suddenly cornered and violently choked.

Melissa doesn’t know what to fucking say to that, if there's anything to be said at all. If she argues, she’d just be lying to herself, to Barbara, and to almighty God—an unholy trinity of delusion and willing deceit. There’s just no excusing the inexcusable, no dressing it up in rouge and calling it pretty.

She’s alone.

Oh, God—her nana died and left her.

She's got a husband and he sleeps in the same bed as her, but somehow and nevertheless, she’s all alone.

Her eyes begin to water, her breathing quickly turning shallow, as everything inside of her falls apart and implodes.

Barbara quickly places the list down again and exchanges it for a tissue that she plucks from a nearby box, reaching up to wipe the tears away. Her cool palm skims the side of Melissa’s feverish face, and the contact is so tender that it’s almost too painful to bear. Melissa reaches up and curls her fingers around her friend’s wrist like it’s a lifeline, unable to form any words, her throat throttled with vile, her stomach sick with it. And the tears continue to well, no matter how many Barbara capably catches.

She heaves out one ugly sob and then another, covering her mouth with her free hand as though that would help with the inconvenience and the noise.

(She's spent most of her adulthood trying not to be inconvenient to make up for all her loudness and her noise.)

“Oh, Melissa—” Barbara exhales, her own dark eyes filling. She continues to stroke the side of her face, holding her cheek, cradling it, cradling her. “Oh, baby—it’s okay that you’re hurting. It’s okay to feel this pain.”

“I-it’s freakin’ not, though,” she moans, the sound muffled behind her hand, the unspeakable anguish leaking through anyway. Her nails curl into her lower lip. “I… I gotta keep it together, Barb! I can’t just—Jesus—I can’t just fall apart. I don’t, I can’t, fuck, I can’t—”

She can’t breathe. Surely, there’s a vice in her chest, squeezing her ribcage into mere molecules and skeletal dust. Surely, her lungs have burst, her veins, her bleeding heart, one massive supernova of flesh and gory tissue, and this moment's all she’s got left. Minutes. Seconds. Nanoseconds. She’s going to die right here and right now, while Nana is unburied, and her to-do list is still unfinished, and—

“You can, Melissa Schemmenti,” comes an authoritative voice from above, shaking but somehow utterly unshaken, ringing like a decree from the Lord God on High. And then Barbara’s warm arms are around her, filling the encroaching darkness with all the flowers on her shirt: sunflowers, poppies, lillies, and roses. Petals everywhere. A garden of beauty and impossible delight. “You cando this because I’m here, and I’m not going to let you go under. You hear me, sweetheart? That’s my promise to you, my solemn, unbreakable oath.”

It’s the loveliest combination of words Melissa has probably ever been told in her life; she cries all the harder, weeping her horror, half-vomiting it. Her mouth tastes like tea and salt.

“Breathe,”Barbara instructs her, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of her head. One of her hands finds its way to the hollow of Melissa’s constricted throat; she splays her fingers against it, palm resting on her chest where the divot of her shirt exposes some of her skin. “You have to breathe, Melissa.”

But it's hard.

It's so fucking hard.

Every hitched breath still becomes a sob, and every sob reverberates through her beaten body like a shock wave. But Barbara is patient where she isn't, a sturdy monolith when all of her vertices have become undone. She begins to rub slow, methodical circles into Melissa's sternum, perhaps modeling a rhythm that she can pattern her breathing against. As the seconds limp past, every bit as injured as she is, she learns to inhale on one revolution and exhale on another, doing this until her heart rate begins to slow again, until the tightness in her chest recedes long enough for her to rationally confirm that she’s not, in fact, dying.

She's living.

(And after someone dies, that's one of the bravest damn things that anyone can ever do.)

Even after her pulse somewhat returns to normal, she and Barbara remain tangled together for what feels like hours, even though it’s surely only a handful of minutes.

Melissa finally lowers her hand from her mouth and twists it somewhere in the paradise of Barbara’s blouse.

Barbara kisses her head again, a little lower this time, near the peak of her red hairline.

Neither of them makes any move to extricate themselves from each other. Melissa doesn’t have the strength, every ligament in her body wrung with incalculable exhaustion. (She’s not exactly sure what Barbara’s excuse is. As secure as she is in her companion's embrace, she currently can't bring herself to care.)

“... I shouldn’t be this weak,” she eventually rasps, and it’s a confession. She’s glad she can’t see her priest’s scandalized face. “I had plenty of time to prepare for this. I’ve known forever she was gonna go.”

“As though that means a hill of beans when you loved her so much,” Barbara murmurs, now running slender fingers through her hair, the motion soothing and rhythmic, reminding Melissa of all the times that Nana had done the same when she was a small child. She briefly closes her eyes, simultaneously endeared by the memories and made sick by them. “You can’t prepare your way through grief. Believe me, girl—I’ve been there, tried that, and it went about as well as can be expected, which is to say not even remotely well at all.”

Melissa chuckles at the convoluted explanation; they both do; they laugh so hard that it almost sounds like they’re crying. She finally pulls back, wanting to look her friend in the eye, but Barbara still grips her by the arms, refusing to let her go.

And they simply drink each other in, mesmerized, tears standing in their eyes, an interwoven statue unto their own: locked limbs, glassy eyes, and a hushed silence that descends upon them like snow.

Maybe they would have stayed like that forever had one of their phones not chimed: her own, laying face-up on the counter. She sees that it's a reminder letting her know that she can take another Prozac in an hour if she needs one. If Barbara sees it—(and with the angle of the phone being the way that it is, she absolutely does)—she's kind; she doesn't say anything; there isn't really anything that needs to be said.

“Shit." She tries to wipe her face on the sleeve of her shirt. It's not a successful endeavor. “I’m a wreck.”

“Maybe so," Barbara agrees, grabbing more tissues for them both. She mops Melissa's face up before delicately attending to her own. "But you won't be forever, you know. it's a transition, not a permanent way of being."

"Doesn't feel that way," she hears herself grouse. It's petulant, a little childish even in her low voice, but it's what she feels; it's her personal nightmare of a lived-in reality.

"I know." The older woman reaches up to thumb away a new tear that has formed at the corner of Melissa's left eye. "But grief rarely ever does."

It's not an especially comforting thought, but Barbara clearly knows her well enough to understand that comforting isn't exactly what she needs right now.

She needs the truth, however ugly it happens to be, however unkind, and the ugly truth is that grief is far from fucking pretty too; it is certainly not kind.

"I love you, Melissa Schemmenti," Barbara adds quietly—in the same hushed cadence that all of their unutterable truths seem to be encased in.

It's dirty, this confession, this boundless and eternal love.

It can't ever be spoken in a normal way and tone.

"You know that, don't you?"

The pad of her thumb is still pressed against Melissa's skin, and there is such little space between them, mere inches and other inconsequential measurements besides; temptation has never been a shorter bridge to indecorously cross and just as deliciously burn. This isn't simply a tender moment between bosom friends, she innately knows, and yet, by the virtue of who they are and their relationships with other people, it can't be anything more than that either, she implicitly understands. She's married. Barbara's married. God is watching. Society is judging. Neither of them will make a move that that they can't just as quickly take back.

"I love ya too, Barb," she replies anyway, leaning very slightly into the intimate touch, as though she could pretend for a moment that they don't have to play that awful game.

Just this one evening.

Just this singular time.

They inevitably will, of course—no doubt about that.

One of them will certainly pull away, and the other will instinctively follow, and together, they will tango themselves out of this senseless mess that they have made; they will offer each other plausible deniability as their highest and most sacred form of love. But for now and until that unwelcome moment, in this fractional sliver of a shared existence and eternity, Melissa dares to rest her tired cheek against Barbara's hand as though she's allowed, and Barbara doesn't flinch like she's been burned.

Silently, they construct a mutual fantasy where they can hold each other without hurting.

Or maybe more accurately still, where they can hurt together and not have been each other's sole and ruinous cause.

"Don't ever leave me," Melissa demands a little unfairly.

It's an unkeepable stipulation.

People leave all the time—by necessity, by choice, by coffin, or in Nana's case, urn.

But nonetheless and all the same—

"Wouldn't dream of it," Barbara promises softly, and Melissa chooses to believe her.

#work wives #reginianwrites #I wrote this for myself because it's been a long damn week #and I'm so sorry for your loss if it ends up being for you too #s: abbott elementary

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ivy-plays · 2 years ago

Text

Welcome to Pandora

Summary: This is your first day on pandora. You will get to see new things and meet new people. And begin to get a grasp on what you will be doing for the next five years.

Warnings: Talk of Death, cussing, smoking

Italics = A memory/ dream or inner thoughts.

Quotations " " = someone is talking.

⚠️I do not own Avatar or any of it's characters. This franchise belongs to James Cam'ron and 20th century Studios Lightstorm Entertainment ⚠️

"Welcome to the avatar program."

"My name is Tommy. Tommy Sully and this is Norm Spellman. What's yours?"

" Be safe and I'll catch you Monday. "

"This is for you"

"He doesn't even have any training. He's just another thick skulled marine."

"Have a nice nap. We'll see you guys in 5 years."

"People, you have been in cryo for five years, nine months and twenty two days. You will be hungry, you will be weak. If you feel nausea, please use the sacks provided for your convenience. The staff thanks you in advance." A man in white scrubs announced, as my fellow passengers and myself floated out of our bunks and got our things from our lockers .

Grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder I close the locker and float off.

The shuttle rocks and jolts as it begins its descent on the planet's surface and a man in military gear stalks down the aisle .

"Exopack on!" The crew chief barks and I do as he says expertly slipping the oxygen mask over my face and tightening the straps.

"Remember people, you lose your mask you're unconscious in 20 seconds and you're dead in four minutes. Let's nobody be dead today, it looks bad on my report." He begins again reminding us all of the dependence we will have these masks.

I watch as he continues walking down the row before stopping to bark out "exopacks on!" To some one I couldn't quite see.

In the next few minutes we're all standing up, gear ready to go , In organized rows waiting for the hatch to open to our new home.

"I wonder if he is anything like Tommy." I hear a voice barely above a whisper say to me from behind .

I playfully rolled my eyes before replying ," of course he is Norm. There twins remember? I'm more curious about how they mean for him to be an avatar piolet if he doesn't even have any training on it. Hell, he's not even a scientist. He's a marine which is the last person we need prancing around in an avatar." I reply .

Whoever is in charge of everything here is seriously not someone interested in the science behind the program if he is sending someone with no training in, Souley on the bases of his twin brother was scheduled to be here and they didn't want to waste there money by having a useless avatar.

"Yeah you have a point. " He replied as the ship jolted one more time as it landed. " Let's just hope he picks up quick " he finished as the hatch began lowering itself .

"Go directly into the base! Do not stop! Go straight inside!" The crew chief ordered as we all began to depart the shuttle and head straight inside as instructed. As I walk across the lot I take in the amount of mining trucks and military machinery and as one rolls by I note the giant arrows wedged into the sides of the tires .

After the briefing Norm and I weave our way through the crowd of scientists and military personnel alike trying to get to the labs without being trampled alive in the narrow hallways of the base. I hold onto the straps of Norm's bag as we walk using his height as a guide and shield from those around me, before he begins to take off in a jog pushing through the crowd.

" ack! Norm slow down! Why are you rushing!?" I call out surprised as I rush to stay up with him.

Norm doesn't reply to me before I hear him call out to someone in the crowd. "Hey, you're Jake right? Tom's brother? You look just like him." He said ,I could only roll my eyes. I could see the man.Jake's face almost fall before it went back to its natural resting state.

I knew he would look some what like Tommy but he really does look exactly like him .

"Sorry, I'm Norm Spellman, and this is (yfn) (yln), we went through avatar training with him." He continued none the wiser to Jake's change in mood. Only at the mention of my name did Jake notice my presence and look at me for a few seconds seemingly studying me.

"It's nice to meet you Jake. Tommy has told me all about you. " I said kindly a small smile gracing my lips while reaching out my hand for him to shake.

Norm does the same before continuing on,"He was a great guy -- funny. It was a big shock to all of us." Jake only excels before saying an quick," yeah" before continuing to roll himself down the hall way Norm and I are walking with him.

"And duh! -- obviously you look like him. I mean, if you weren't genetically identical, you wouldn't be taking over his avatar." Norm followed up on the conversation from before.

"that's why I'm here." Jake replayed not looking anywhere but Infront of him until I asked him a question as to which he looked to me.

"so-- you wanna check it out?" I say a bit of playfulness lacing my tone.

The three of us made our way to the bio lab, it was chock full of equipment of all sorts , incubation tubes and much more. From the main room there were several adjoining rooms each one holding another price to the puzzle that is the avatar project.

As we walk up on the chambers holding the avatars a man begins talking behind us,"Me and Norm were out here to drive these remotely controlled bodies called avatars. They're grown from human DNA mixed with DNA from the natives here." He said and I turned to look at him, observing him I found his name tag stitched into his lab coat. Dr.Max Cullimore.

We watch as two shipping containers are being uncrated , the one nearest to us contents visible. An acrylic tank that reached the ceiling. From the corner of my eye I watched as Jake continued to wheel himself towards another tank following him I turned the corner to see this tank completely uncovered and inside was a fully grown avatar. Jake's avatar.

"Damn they got big " I could hear the man exlame while studying the creature in front of him.

"Yeah, they grew on the trip out," Norm responded to Jake before Turing back to Max," So the proprioceptive sims worked pretty well."

" Yeah, they've got great muscle tone. Give us a few hours, you guys can take them for a spin." Max says before walking off to check on the progress of other tanks.

The avatar rolls in the tank his face now visible to the three of us. " It looks like him." I could hear Jake mutter mesmerized by the avatar's features. I only smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder," It looks like you. This is your avatar now Jake " I say not noticing how Jake moves his head ever so slightly to look at me before looking back at Tommy's his avatar.

I had already finished my first video log. Max told us we had to log our days here on Pandora to monitor things such as our mental state and anything we discovered along the way. I now sat in a chair to the left of Jake watching him as he made his own video log.

"Is this right? I just say whatever I want?" He suddenly stops and turns to ask Norm.

"Yeah. You just need to get in the habit of documenting everything -- what you see, what you feel -- it's all part of the science. Good science starts with good observation." Norm answers before turning back to Max.

Jake turned back to the camera and continued to talk until Max stopped him," Log off. It's time to meet your boss for the next five years."

The four of us leave the desk and Max leads us down the hall to the link room. As we walked in I could feel the excitement bubbling in my chest as I looked around.

"Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the head of the Avatar Program, and she wrote the book -- I mean literally wrote the book -- on Pandoran botany." Norm exclaimed just as excited as I am to be here and excited to meet Grace Augustine.

Max looked back at us over his shoulder before whispering to us," that's because she likes plants better than people"

Were all silent until a female voice cuts through the lab "who's got my goddamn cigarette?!" She exclaimed before we saw a Tech rush over with a cigarette and lighter in hand. The four of us walk over to where Grace is sat in her chamber smoking her cigarette.

" And here she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace this is Norm spellman , (yfn) ( yln) , and Ja--" Max begins but is cut off before he can finish Jake's name by Grace.

" Norm and (yfn). I've heard good things about you two. How's you're Na'vi?" She asks.looking between the two of us expectantly.

"It is nice to meet you Grace " I say in Na'vi while slightly bowing my head.

"May the All Mother smile upon our first meeting." Norm said doing the same jestire as myself.

" not bad. But you sound a little formal." She said looking at Norm.

"There is still much to learn" he countered.

The three of us continued to talk in Na'vi until Max broke our conversation once more trying to introduce Jake .

"uh Grace , this is Jake s---"

Grace only turned to Jake once more cutting off Max. Poor dood can't even finish a sentence.

"Yeah, yeah, I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother." She snipped before turning back to Max. I could see the irritation on Jake's face at the way Grace spoke about him, his brother.

"You know the PH-D that trained three years for this mission." She finished.

" He's dead. I know that's a big inconvenience for everyone." Jake spits out and I look at him with pity in my heart.

The man just lost his brother and got his life uprooted and they have the nerve to say he's not good enough to his face.

"How much lab training have you had? Ever run a gas chromatograph?" Grace asked Jake, taking a drag of here cigarette.

"no "

"any actual lab work at all?"

"Highschool chemistry. But I ditched."

Grace turns back to Max throwing her hands up into the air. "You see? You see? They're pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain." She said before turning away and heading towards the lab exit . "I'm going to Selfridge." She states shoving past Jake his chair slightly rolling out of the way.

Max called after her but his words fell on deaf ears as Grace had already stomped out of the lab. Max turns to Jake " here , tomorrow, oh eight hundred. Try to use big words. " He said before following Grace out the lab.

@elegantkidfansoul

#avatar #jake sully #grace agustine #neytiri #jake x reader #neytiri x reader #jake x neytiri x reader #jake x neytiri #jumping on the bandwagon #its an endless cycle #x female reader #x fem!reader #norm spellman #pandora #series #fanfics

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danganronpa-abandoned-hope · 1 year ago

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Danganronpa: Abandoned Hope Episode One Script

here's the script for the first episode, as promised! check under the readmore :3. Do remember that it's still a "rough draft", so there may still be some typos and unintentional grammar mistakes. please be constructive with any criticism.

Episode 1, February 13th

Mysterious voice: good morning, sir. We’re very appreciative that you’ve come to talk with us today. We understand that you likely have a very poor opinion of us, but rest assured we have no intention of harming you or your friends. W- No, won’t hurt the young lady here either. We just need your account of the events that took place. Yes we’ll be interviewing her too, so your honesty is of the utmost importance. The sources we have are flawed, some clarity is all we ask. You can provide this, can’t you?

????:: …. I… suppose ….

Mysterious voice: splendid! Could you introduce yourself before giving your account? for the record of course.

????: …. My name is Adaleus Valker. I attended the academy under the talent of “ultimate waltzer”. My talent encompassed everything from organizing events, hosting parties, and of course actually dancing. Admittedly I feel more pride in the hosting part of my talent rather than the dancing part, however the school was looking for a dancer, not a host. The talent program for my year sought to implement pairs with similar talents. I was a last minute addition; the person who originally held my talent couldn’t attend.

Adaleus, flashback: I still remember the day before it all started. February 13th. We were snowed in so classes were canceled. That was good news to me, I never liked waking up early. Although this morning I stayed in a little too long

???: *sounds of knocking* Adaleus you in there? It’s noon, wake up!

Adaleus, present: oH SHI *answers door* good morning Mrs Sasaki

Narration: Nozumi Sasaki, the well respected headmaster of this academy. Back in her day she was the ultimate linguist. She’s very good at her job, both as a translator and a headmaster, but unfortunately that means she’s overbearing as hell sometimes.

Sasaki: … Good afternoon. Adaleus I know school isn’t in session today but could you at least wake up at a decent time?

Adaleus: ah… that’s my bad

Sasaki: just try to get to bed at a decent time tonight, wouldn’t want you to be groggy tomorrow

Narration: And with that she walked off

Adaleus: geez, if I knew I’d get reprimanded like this I would’ve opted out of staying in the dorms

Narration: We were given the option if we wanted to stay in the dorms or not, most students opted out since it’s quite the trek down to the village, leaving only the ultimate class and the headmaster as the only people in the school dorms.

Eun: Hey you, you’re finally awake. I was looking for Sammie so we could get some lunch, wanna join?

Narration: that’s Eun Kocur, ultimate animal trainer. She specializes in birds and is currently keeping chickens and pigeons. We’re pretty good friends. Last month she dragged me along to a bird show her pigeons were competing in. They all won, of course. It would be weird if they didn’t.

Adaleus: yeah sure, food sounds good.

Narration: we walked over to Sammie’s shared lab, passing some fellow students along the way

Eun: oh hey Umeko what’s up?

Umeko: oh hey Eun! Not much, how about you?

Narration: Umeko Ongaku, ultimate Chorist. She used to be so quiet that it was startling to hear her speak, let alone sing. Especially since she has such a deep voice. Sometimes I’d play the accompanying track for her choir if the usual accompanist couldn’t.

Benjiro: oh? who's there?

Narration: And that’s Benjiro Sasaki, ultimate instructor. One time he mentioned how he was originally going to be a teacher, but disliked small children so much he decided to go into lecturing instead. He really dislikes being singled out due to his blindness, and well kids aren’t necessarily known for their tact. His service’s dog is named Mina. Sometimes we joke about how she’s more sociable than he is.

Eun: it’s just me and Adaleus, we’re getting lunch

Benjiro: Oh that makes sense, it’s like 12:10 right?

Adaleus: *i checked the clock on the wall* That's actually accurate. How did you do that?

Benjiro: I got a new watch

Adaleus: what? But I thought you were bli-

Umeko: it’s specifically for blind people, dumbass. The face of the watch has raised markers so that you can feel the time

Adaleus: *takes a closer look* oh that’s neat! Did you get it for him?

Umeko: yep! It was supposed to be for Christmas but it came in late. Man I’m such a bad girlf-

Eun: shhh shut up Mrs. Sasaki’s coming

Umeko: Eep!

Narration: an air of awkward silence befell us as Mrs Sasaki walked by

Mrs Sasaki: hello

Eun: hiya

Umeko: g-good afternoon

Adaleus: hello

Benjiro: hi mom

Misa: *quiet woof*

Narration: Mrs. Sasaki didn’t know that Benjiro and Umeko were dating, and quite frankly neither of them wanted her to know. She’s overbearing as is, I couldn’t imagine it would end well if she knew.

We parted ways with Ben and Umeko, only to run into someone else.

Maricella: hey hey hey Adaleus I gotta talk with you for a sec

Narration: Maricella Tai, ultimate knitter. It’s rare to see her not working on a project, and even rarer to see her without her knitting needles. Everyone here has at least one knitted item from her, currently she’s making everyone blankets. She often jokes about how her knitting needles could be used for self defense in emergencies.

Rina: you didn’t even need my help finding him

Narration: Rina Bellerose, Ultimate Ballerina. I share a talent lab with her. Sometimes we help each other practice for events but to be honest we’re pretty distant. Quite frankly I think she dislikes me quite a bit, but it’s rude to assume that of people.

Adaleus: oh hi what is it?

Maricella: ok so I started your blanket and I was using this one specific shade of blue but I ran out of it completely, is it okay if I use a different shade or would you rather it stay consistent?

Adaleus: oh yeah it’s fine if it’s different. Hey maybe that could be the pattern. One shade of a color followed by a second shade repeated?

Maricella: I. Like. Your. Thinking!! Cmon Rina let’s go!

Rina: you don’t need to run everywhere you know-

Narration: and thus the sapphic’s left as quickly as they appeared. Finally we made it to Sammies lab. I could hear the radio through the door, playing some music I didn’t recognize. Eun placed a few firm knocks on the door.

Eun: Hey Sammie! We’re gonna get lunch now

Sammie: o-ok hold on a sec!

Narration: the radio was shut off and replaced with a shuffling of sorts. Before long the long anticipated Sammie showed up.

Sammie: ok let’s go!

Narration: Sammie Usuro, ultimate tailor. He’s rather proficient at his talent, usually having a backlog of requests for outfits and fittings. Though for some reason whenever I need my clothes repaired he always gets to it right away. He broke his leg last winter break after falling off a ski lift.

Adaleus: Hey Sammie! How's your leg feeling?

Sammie: ah it’s doing fine. Doctor said that the cast could come off in as little as two months!

Eun: that’s still quite a bit of time

Sammie: Well it’s better than losing the leg due to gangrene. Let’s go get lunch.

Eun: What were you guys thinking about? Personally I could go for anything right now.

Sammie: Honestly that new restaurant down in the village sounds really good.

Adaleus: It does, but how are we gonna get there?

Eun: oh! We could take a sled down then just stay the night in town. We can come back up when school starts back up!

Sammie: Then it sounds like a plan!

Narration: we made our way to the elevator. Yes it was a snow day, and yes eating out was a Saturday thing, but dammit that barbecue place sounded really good. Unfortunately there were issues surrounding the elevator:

Simire: AUUGHRRHR OPEN UP!!!

Narration: Simire Rohim, ultimate badminton player. The winner of several awards and championships, often gone for weeks at a time to play in games. It was… very surreal to see this well respected athlete struggling with the door so much

Adaleus: What… is he doing?

Icarus: I left my pencil case in a classroom downstairs, but the door to the elevator/stairwell is locked for some reason.

Narration: Icarus Onassis, ultimate volleyball player. He used to be just as into volleyball as Simire was into badminton, but after a season he completely lost interest in sports as a whole. Now he only plays during talent festivals and tests.

Eun: Simire I doubt shaking the door is gonna make it work

Simire: well what else am I supposed to do?

Eun: maybe get Mrs. Sasaki and ask her to unlock the door?

Simire: oh *leaves to go do that*

Eun: Hey, do you think if we shake him it’ll get his brain to work?

Icarus: hey Don’t make fun of him behind his back!

Sammie: that’s rich coming from the king of shit talk himself

Eun: So would it be ok if I said it to his face?

Icarus: you-

Mrs Sasaki: What's the problem here?

Simire: the door won’t unlock and Icarus left his pencil case downstairs.

Mrs. Sasaki: Oh I Must have forgot to unlock the door, my apologies.

Narration: but when she went to unlock the door, her key didn’t work anymore

Mrs. Sasaki: That's… odd. It must be the cold weather messing with the locks. I’ll call the locksmiths and have them check out the doors as soon as possible.

Adaleus: damn, so no take out :(

Mrs. Sasaki: Were you really going out to eat in this weather? There’s 100 cm of snow outside!

Eun: well why else would we have the sled?

Mrs Sasaki: that’s for emergencies only, go make yourselves something to eat in the kitchen

Sammie: :(

Narration: burdened with an unbearable sadness, we made our sorry ways to the kitchen.

Artemisa, holding a basket of produce: hey are you three getting lunch too?

Narration: Artemisa Spicer, ultimate food chemist. She’s somehow both the most and the least organized person I know. She always has her mask on since she's always in and out of her lab or the kitchen. She was in charge of catering a party I was planning once and she did an excellent job, despite her odd schedule.

Sammie: yeah.. Mrs. Sasaki wouldn’t let us go out to eat

Artemisa: There's like 100 cm of snow out there and you can barely walk!

Eun: yeah but like that’s what the sleds for

Artemisa: no it’s not! I’m making a bunch of soup for lunch anyways, just have some of that.

Adaleus: fiiiiiine

Narration: we followed Artemisa into the dinning area. Artemisa slipped into the kitchen, leaving us with the other students waiting for lunch.

Gigantia: heyyy mantits McGee what’s up!!!

Narration: Gigantia Ader, ultimate Embalmer. I’m not very knowledgeable of her talent, I personally have seen enough dead bodies to last me a lifetime, but those in the field apparently respect her work greatly. Her personality however….

Adaleus: Gigantia we’ve talked about this…

Fatik: can’t you go a day without harassing someone?

Gigantia: hey tits aren’t inherently sexual!

Fatik: you’re pleading your case poorly

Narration: Fatik Lemaitre, ultimate taxidermist. Again, unfamiliar with the field however they don’t tend to make people as uncomfortable as Gia. They’re often rather cranky though, especially with the bad weather recently.

Juniper: Hey, stop talking about badonkers! Lunch is ready, we made soup!

Narration: Juniper Caito, ultimate orchardist. During the tragedy they cultivated hundreds of orchards, forests, and farms. They’ve probably improved the world the most out of any of us just on the basis of food production alone. Their talent lab is full of plants, I'm surprised that Artemisa gets anything done.

Fatik: oh what kind of soup is it?

Juniper: soup flavor

Gigantia: oh boy my favorite

Artemisa: there’s also fresh bread in kitchen if you want it with your soup or a sandwich or something

Adaleus: Aw fuck yeah bread!

Eun: breads not that good though

Adaleus: sounds like someone’s never had good bread

Eun: whatever

Narration: the soup flavored soup with the bread shaped bread was very good for lunch. Eun left to go do her own thing, so me and Sammie went over to the library to hang out a bit more. Since it’s basically the entertainment center, someone is always hanging out there

Lapis: oh hey guys what’s up!

Narration: Lapis Ongaku, ultimate soloist. Almost the polar opposite of sister, he’s as loud and fun loving as anyone with the title of ultimate center of attention. He has a tendency to go off and do his own thing, which gets on a lot of people’s nerves.

Sammie: oh we were just gonna hang out here! That’s ok right?

Lapis: yeah yeah of course! I wasn’t doing anything too important anyway, the internet isn’t working.

Sammie: oh that's odd, then what are you doing on the computer?

Lapis: playing chess against the computer and losing horribly.

Adaleus, thinking: looking over at the computer I witnessed the worst chess strategy I have ever seen play out. It was almost funny

Sammie: Maybe you should play something else. Oh, how about we play uno? That’s easier!

Lapis: Aw fuck yeah i’m a pro at uno! You’re gonna be sorry you ever challenged me! Then I’m gonna be sorry cause I hurt your feelings.

Narration: we played cards for a couple hours, chatting with people coming in and out of the library. Eventually we went and ate dinner, which was just leftovers. Heeding Mrs. Sasaki’s warning, I went to bed soon after. Though to be honest, had I known what was about to transpire… I don’t think I would’ve gone to sleep.

✨you can now watch from Eun’s Perspective✨

Narration: Well lunch was eventful, it was fun to see Fatik throw a bread roll at Gigantia after one too many puns. Even funnier to see her catch one with her mouth and swallow it whole like a snake. Now what to do now…

Lapis: oh hey Eun! Umeko wants to talk to you

Eun: wait why?

Lapis: idk, she said it’s a girl thing, and since I am not a girl I can’t be privy to this.

Eun: makes sense, where is she?

Lapis: she’s by her room, probably, she might’ve moved, it’s like a floor it can’t take that long to find her

Eun: fair fair, I’ll go find her

Narration: lapis was right, she was outside her room. Her nameplate is somewhat shiner than the others since they got her name wrong at first. They got a lot of people's names wrong to be honest, how hard is “Eun” to remember geez.

Umeko: oh good you’re here

Eun: Yeah, what did you need? Lapis was really cryptic.

Umeko: yeah ok so uh you know how Valentine’s Day is tomorrow? W-well I wanted to get Benjiro chocolate, but we’re snowed in, so I figured I’d ask Artemisa for help to make them! But she gets really intense when cooking so I kinda need you there for moral support!

Eun: Wait, you’re scared of Artemisa? All 165 cm of her?

Umeko: I’m related to Lapis, I know damn well it’s the short ones you need to look out for! So are you helping or not??

Eun: Well of course I am! Gotta support the gal pals even if they are sniffing cowards

Umeko: aren’t you scared of crickets

Eun: hey! they're freaky little bastards who know and resent their place in the food chain!

Umeko: yeah right, lets go

Narration: we went down to Artemisa’s lab and luckily enough she was down to help Umeko with the chocolate. I did as I promised and stayed for moral support, but unfortunately I became privy as to why Umeko had reservations about this.

Eun: hey why’d you make me put my hair in a ponytail?

Artemisa: the twin tails are unsanitary. Whenever you lean forward your hair gets into anything you’re working in, and I’d prefer it if your hair didn’t transfer germs from your lab into mine.

Eun: Firstly, domesticated pigeons are very clean animals!

Artemisa: humans are “clean” creatures and yet food safety still applies to them

Eun: But then why didn't you make Umeko change her hair? Or change your hair for that matter?

Artemisa: because her hair isn’t long enough to warrant the concerns I have about your hair. And I don’t lean over countertops with wild abandon

Umeko: Will you guys stop arguing? I’m trying to focus.

Eun: Oh sorry!

Narration: we finished the chocolates without much incident besides the great hair debate. I even got some of the candy as a reward! They made a variety of flavors, so there's gotta be something in there that Ben will like. Though considering his sour attitude, I can’t be sure that he’ll appreciate anything sweet.

#d:ah #danganronpa: abandoned hope

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a-student-out-of-time · 2 years ago

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Yes, hello, Shingetsu-san.

*Ahem* Nakamura.

I must admit, of all the people to involved with this investigation, you weren’t among those I was expecting to show.

Guess I’m full of surprises, huh?

I wasn’t expecting to hear you’re having another kid.

I am, yes. A daughter this time.

Well, here’s hoping you’ll treat this one like an actual child.

...Nakamura, if this is your way of trying to intimidate me, you can save it. I’ve moved on from such petty and meaningless acts.

In any event, I’ve reformed. I don’t intend to carry out such a cruel experiment again, and instead I’ll be working toward improving this school.

And that involves assisting with this investigation.

Now, as soon as I can find Deguchi, we can continue onward.

...I’m afraid she’s not available.

Pardon me?

You heard me. She’s unavailable to be participate in your investigation, so leave her alone.

Nakamura, I don’t think you quite grasp the weight of this investigation-

Maybe I grasp more than I think you do. There’s a lot I could talk about with these gentlemen, isn’t there? And if not them, any of these other cops in the building.

Oh? And what exactly would you hope to discuss with them?

Oh, nothing much, just the kinds of things you and the Steering Committee were so kind to show me.

Although you’ll have to remind me of the code we used.

Code...? What code are you speaking of?

Oh, you don’t remember? Lemme see, maybe I do remember it.

It was something like...8-6-4-0-1-2-

OH! That code! That’s what you were referring to! Of course, but we changed it since last time, so there’s no need!

Ah, so you won’t need Deguchi-san’s help then. If there’s a new code, that means somebody else is in charge, right?

...Right, yes, of course.

So what’s stopping you from showing them the lab?

Unless, of course, you aren’t quite as far removed from your experiments as you’d like us to believe?

...

Very well. I suppose we don’t need Deguchi-san’s help after all.

Gentlemen, will you wait for me at the stairwell? I’ll be there shortly.

*The police leave*

Where is she, Nakamura?!

What makes you think I know? You can’t keep track of your own students?

I think you do know.

And you have five seconds to tell me where that Ainu brat is before I have you booted from the premises.

Sorry, I really have no clue. After all, I’m part of the investigation, remember? It’s my job to learn, not know.

And here’s what I know: do us all a favor and stay away from her. Otherwise, you’re going to be so wrapped up in so much litigation that your unborn child’s going to need a lawyer.

...

Very well. But I’ll get what I want, Nakamura, one way or another.

Whatever you say, Shingetsu-san.

Hey...what if we reminded people of what a wonderful parent you are? Maybe that’ll convince people you’re really on the up and up?

Yeah, Shingetsu-san, didn’t you go to jail for experimenting on your own kid or something?

Sh-Shut up brat! You have no right to talk to me, I'll get you expelled for defamation!

What? I'm only saying what's true, or are you the type of person that hates getting told they’re wrong? Because in that case, I seriously have to wonder how the hell your parents dealt with you.

...*With a disgusted sigh, Mai marches off*

Always a barrel of sunshine, isn’t she?

No kidding.

#danganronpa #nwpm #neo world program monitor #kyoji nakamura #Tomoe Kimura #Mai Shingetsu #a student out of time #DR #The Price of Fate arc

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 2 years ago

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Conflicting Commanders.

Sorry for the bumpy ride. I didn’t exactly have much else to offer in terms of vehicle’s.

It’s alright. This is more discreet if anything.

*Back in the swampy forest, Eden travels with Kaede on the back of a horse towards Shuichi and Kyoko’s last known location. Along the way, they end up passing by a familiar vehicle.

This is the buggy your friends drove in when they first met me. I told them to head in this direction if they wanted to follow the river.

So where are they? I can see some tracks, but they end here...

*Kaede walks forward a little bit, and then kneels down as she notices the iron hatch that Shuichi and Kyoko discovered earlier.

Of course...it’s underground.

...!? Kaede-! Quick, get back here!

Huh!? Wh-Why?

Just do it!

WHAAGH!?

*Eden grabs Kaede and practically slams her behind some thick roots that extrude from the ground.

What are you talking-

Oh!?

*As Kaede asks this, she suddenly sees several periscopes pop out of the ground and look around. She ducks out of cover as one turns her way.

Phew...Good call! How did you know that was there?

I didn’t. I trusted my divine eye. It hasn’t let me down yet.

Aaaalright then...

[The Tower, same time]

Hey, old man!

Kuripa Kurafto!

*Seeing Kuripa coming, Munakata turns back to the soldiers he’s commanding.

Everyone get to the ready! We head out soon!

*The FF and Kisaragi soldiers salute and start helping one another to prepare, as Munakata turns towards Kuripa.

Do we have to take the fucking choppers? I had a big breakfast to prepare for today and I feel like I’m gonna lose it.

Hehehe...Don’t worry. They’ve been instructed to fly low. Definitely a drop someone with your strength can survive.

That’s reassuring. You know, you’re surprisingly calm given the situation...

What do you mean?

Well, I mean, this mission isn’t gonna bring back any fond memories for you...you were Celeste’s own personal zombie at one point.

AND there’s a good chance that if we fail, everyone in Hokkaido could end up as zombies too. And yet you don’t seem even remotely on edge.

...You’re wrong. I am nervous...

I’m just very good at hiding it.

Hm...

*Their conversation is interrupted as Kuripa’s phone suddenly starts ringing. He reaches into his pocket and takes it out.

It’s Akamatsu.

*He answers it and puts it on speaker.

Kaede: Kuripa? Are you there?

Yeah, I’m here with Munakata. Did you find our two missing detectives?

No...I-I mean...Negative. Army words and whatnot.

But we DID find the entrance to the lab where they last appeared, and I’m pretty sure both of them are inside. But the whole area is covered in sensorts and periscopes, so we won’t be able to get inside without being detected.

But I have my new spear, so if you want, I’m more than happy to-

Do NOT attempt to siege the lab by yourself. Remember I told you I would send men for backup.

*Munakata takes out his phone and sends Kaede a picture of the lab scan.

What’s this?

Munakata: I just received this plan back from Taichi Fujisaki. In the supply patch I gave you is a handful of grenades.

Grenades!?

I was carrying GRENADES in my backpack!?

Kuripa: Akamatsu, grenades don’t go off until you pull the pin. You weren’t in any real danger.

That’s not very reassuring Kuripa! If any of them went of accidently, I would be in pieces right now!

Munakata: Regardless, I need you to detonate one of those grenades at the south end of the facility. It should cause a nice distraction and seal off the bomb area while Kuripa Kurafto and I storm the doors.

You can count on me Munakata.

The soldiers will have your back as soon as that bomb goes off, Akamatsu. And we’ll be right behind you as well.

Ah good. Our ride’s here.

*Three choppers fly around to the landing bay. One for Munakata and his men, and one for Kuripa and his. Kaede’s squadron takes the third.

That aside...One hell of a strike force we’ve got here. Kind of wondering if the Future Foundation are taking this seriously or if they’re just fucking around?

What is that supposed to mean...?

Hngh...

*Kuripa holds onto the chopper, ready to go inside.

Kuripa Kurafto, Kaede Akamatsu and Kyosuke Munakata.

Three people who have all fought, tortured or injured each other. Three people with a predominantly bloody history between one another, working together to lead a siege on an important Zetsubou lab.

What could go wrong?

...

We...We don’t need to fight anymore. Let’s just leave the past in the past, ok?

Yes, I agree.

Fine. But before we do this, there’s two things I want you to know.

And that is?

First of all...I’ll remind you that legally, I am not employed by Future Foundation. I’m doing this as a favor to Makoto Naegi.

That means not only do these soldiers not have any right or reason to listen to my commands, but I’m NOT to be held responsible for anything that might happen to them.

...

That’s not to say I intend to let them die of course. I’ll protect them with my life if I need to. It’s just that any casualties on my side of things will not be my fault, got it?

...Yes, I suppose so. And the other thing?

Akamatsu. I need you to pay attention to me.

Huh? Wh-What is it?

There is a non-zero possibility that Saihara and Bosswife are already goners. Our goal is to rescue them, but do not risk the lives of these men trying to save your boytoy.

You can focus on rescuing the captives, Munakata gets the bombs, and I’ll nab the doctor, but if things start looking bad, pull out and keep you and your men safe. Sound good?

Kaede: ...Alright...And Kuripa?

Yeah?

I KNOW what’s at stake here.

*Kaede hangs up.

...

What happened between you and Kaede Akamatsu back in the USA? I didn’t want to pry for details, but I heard about it...

We uh...We had a conflict...It...got physical...

And I’ve hated myself for it...That’s all you really need to know...

I know the feeling...

Do you...? Do you really? Does a guy like you really feel regret? Someone who’s willing to murder all of his innocent allies based on a hunch?

That’s not who I am anymore!

And back then...I was being manipulated...

What else is new? That’s all you ever do! Get manipulated by people because you pick favourites!

*Kuripa climbs into the chopper, and turns around to look at Munakata one more time.

You were the original Chairman of the Future Foundation, but you’ve spent your whole life living under the Ultimate Despair’s thumb. Be it through brain-worms, or through Chisa Yukizome.

...Krgh...

I for one, refuse to live like that. I have some people I answer to of course, but in the end...

I’m the one who decides how I live my life. So start taking notes, you old cyclops.

...

*The chopper doors close, and Kuripa’s squadron flies away.

If that was your attempt at being nice Kuripa Kurafto, then you really need to work on it...

Still...I guess you’re right...

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa 3 #dr3 #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #oc #danganronpa new world order #drnwo #kuripa kurafto #kyosuke munakata #kaede akamatsu #eden owari #rise and shine arc

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imjustheretofangirl003 · 2 years ago

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The familiar person sat at the counter, not even bothering to sugar and cream their coffee before downing the scalding liquid, drawing an eyebrow raise from the villain.

Shit, I knew he was resistant to heat after Boston, but that just looks miserable. He thought to himself, heart calming from the initial adrenaline of recognizing him.

He sat there alone, not even on his cell, just refilling the cup from the carafe. It struck the villain he wasn't meeting civilian friends here, or even working a low profile job.

I'm going to regret this im going to regret this I'm so-

Before he could realize, he was sitting next to the hero, attempting a friendly smile.

"Hey."

...

It went on like that for embarassingly long. One would think an arch nemesis would indulge in their enemies company only long enough to learn of a great weakness, or person of interest. But the villain couldn't stomach the idea. Something about seeing him out in person, out of costume made him seem so fragile.

And in some ways he was. The apartment the hero -we do not ask why the villain has seen the heros apartment, thank you- rented was a dump, and the landlord did nothing to fix anything. For all his cunning and brawn the hero did not have more than a high school degree, if that. And so he became a bit of a maintenance man for him. See? No odd reasons at all.

If he was being honest, he liked this new routine. The hero never caught on, since the villain wore a full mask and voice modifier as his trademark. And, whether he knew it or not, the hero benefited from this situation as well, with the villain being careful not to hit a limb he mentioned was sore, or let fights go too late in the night if the hero worked the next day.

It was all going peachy until the villain screwed it up, because of course he did.

Reluctantly, he had agreed to a team up with a much more violent villain, and things went down hill from there.

The power this rogue held destroyed more than the villain ever did. He considered himself a more, theatrical villain. At some points, it felt like he was fighting the rogue himself, attempting to redirect attacks to less populated areas. One of these attacks having completely shattered his voice modifier. He was careful not to speak, until he couldn't anymore.

Things had gotten messy too fast, all he remembers is looking up from the ground at the exhausted hero looking around for the rogue. The shattered display in his mask quickly calculated the next hit would be from behind, and directed at his head. Shit. Not even the hero could survive that, and he knew it.

It was coming too fast.

He wasnt seeing it.

Someone had to do something.

Somebody anybody just-

"MOVE!"

He didnt realize he was even the one who screamed until he saw the simething click in the heros eyes as they locked on him amongst the rubble. The hero moved at the last second and for a second the villains heart soared, until he realized the projectile was now in a direct path to him.

The villain didn't have time to curse before he felt himself yanked into the air by his metal collar, feeling the rattle in his bones at the explosion just beneath him. Craning his neck, the heros face was nothing but stone, showing no drop of emotion at what assuredly, must be a pretty dramatic reveal, if he says so himself. Plopping him down on a nearby rooftop, the hero only hesitates a split second before taking off at a speed the villain had never seen before to take care of the rogue.

...

"Why did I think he'd come" the villain grumbled, sitting two rooftops away from their usual diner.

It was closer than he shouldve been, but he couldnt help it. He peeked back into his binoculars, a drastic step down from his usual technology, mostly because his helmet lay useless at his side. He didn't bother going back to the lab to fix it after the fight.

It didn't seem as important all a sudden.

He waited another moment before uncrossing his legs and standing, doing what has become his new signature, grumbling and pacing.

"Stupid stupid stupid stupid- ARGH!" He kicked his helmet across the rooftop, not noticing it stop abruptly until the figure spoke.

"Is that any way to treat something you own, didn't your mother tell you to treat things with respect?"

He regreted the yelp that escaped his throat at suddenly being yanked out of his own thoughts, face burning with embarassment. He grabbed for his cape, backing away slightly, feeling incredibly ridiculous in full costume without his mask, with the hero in nothing but civilian clothes in front of him.

"I-I swear I wasn't here to start a fight, I-I just wanted to... to see.." He felt himself hit the wall before he realized he'd backed himself into a corner, with the hero still walking his way, shattered helmet tucked under his arm like some kind of sportsball.

"To see if I'd still show up?" The heros voice was quieter, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, but not for a second patronising. The villain nodded, and hung his head, only for the hero to gently lift his chin and point to another building the opposite side of the diner. He was confused until he explained "I was waiting for you too, the only reason I saw you was when you stood up to do your pacing." The villain felt his face heat up at that.

"A-Ah...." he cleared his throat. "I'm uhm... sorry about today. Things got out of hand I-I never should've agreed-" The heros shook his head, cutting him off.

"You saved my life today. You have been for a while. I couldn't pin down what had changed between us. Why you suddenly would have a malfunction or end fights early" he laughs, and it sounds like bells "I never in a million years it was because you were my diner boy!"

The villain felt himself try to tuck into his collar, heart racing as fast as it did that first night he heard a very familiar voice.

'My...?' His thoughts lingered on the simple adjective.

The hero looked him over, and offered a smile. "Do you... have a place nearby you can change? So we can talk over coffee?"

He mulled it over for a moment before hitting a button on his suit, causing it to reorganize and contract to the size of a lunchbox, taking it and the busted helmet, flushing once more as their fingers brushed, and stashed both in a corner on the rooftop. The villain turned, dusting off the purple lasercat sweatshirt, and looked up at the hero expectantly.

"R-Ready" he offered after a moment, the hero just shook his head, muttering "diner boy" before scooping him up, much to his surpise.

"Hey wait woahwoahwoah I don't do flying!" The hero gave him a quizzical look.

"You have a high tech hoverboard"

"Yeah! That I use with my suit! That has altered gravity so I dont get motion sick!"

The hero snickers, not trying very hard not to, and set him back down, walking toward the fire escape instead.

"Cmon then Mr. Delicate Stomach." He turns and smiles as he holds the rail. "Please, come explain that to me over your four sugars two cream coffee."

The villain cant help but keep up with the banter that has always felt so natural between them. "Says the one who practically drinks gasoline! Diner coffe is bad enough as is, but heaven forbid you add a little sugar in your life!"

The hero laughs, and the villains heart feels light as they follow him down, chatting like old friends as they meet in their diner, once again.

A villain nurses their loss in a quiet diner when an equally tired person enters, and orders a coffee in a very familiar voice.

#finally #been sitting on this one #hope you enjoy!#writers-prompt-s #writing prompt #prompt #writeblr #hero #villain #homosexual #aka that gay shit #feel free to kindly critique #or ask questions about them

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missspringthyme · 11 months ago

Text

January 23rd, 2024

Another thesis meeting today that I was NOT late for. Fuck yeah! Small improvements!! In fact, I was early!! This meant that I had to stand awkwardly outside my supervisor's office because he was in a meeting, but hey at least he saw that I was early. I'm also doing a fantastic job at putting together some very cute business casual outfits, absolutely love playing professional dress up and I finally feel like I'm finding a style that makes me look put together but not like a little kid wearing their parent's clothes.

I got to see the EEG lab for the first time today, and when I was in there my supervisor mentioned that if we wanted to observe on a high-density session that we could do so. I put a reminder in my calendar so that I could ask him to sit in on a session at a reasonable time. Otherwise, I would absolutely forget.

It took a while to get things set up in the lab because nothing was working (ha, gotta love academia) but testing is done in this sound proof booth. There's a camera inside so you can sit outside the booth and observe or give directions, but for this study we will sit inside with the participant. While the door was open I kept looking at the screen that showed the live feed from inside the booth, because it meant I could see myself fully from the back. It's wild how rare it is to see yourself in ways that are normal for others. I'm already such a slut for mirrors, but oh boy was that a trap. I kept reminding myself to look away so that my supervisor and the greek girl wouldn't notice how entranced I was.

When I used to act, they have to take a recording of the silence in a room for editing, and that means a room full of people barely even daring to breathe while a guy stands very seriously with a boom. I wonder who was the first person to realize that they needed the silence from a specific room during sound editing, it must've seemed a bit odd to do the first silent room recording. Anyway, one movie that I did we took a silence recording right before a scene where I was going to be asleep in a bed while "my mom" had this big emotional moment and sobbed next to me. So we were all in the bed, and I was doing my best not to rustle the sheets or squeak the mattress, but I vividly remember this moment because it was the first time I realized how heavy and uncomfortable true silence can be. The recording felt like it stretched seconds into years and all I wanted to do was have it end. To yell or clap or whatever other noise that would cut through this thick jello. Being in the sound booth is like that, but at least with the experiment running or people talking it goes away. I got to try the mobile eeg on, which was fun, and then we got sent home with them to mess around and figure them out.

We had dnd that night, so I put it on former Italian roommate and third culture Australian and let them look at their brain waves. Of course, they didn't really know what they were looking at, but I just kept saying "That's you! That's what you are. A collection of electrical signals!".

DND went well, they liked the backstories and spent 1 hour of real time with the halfling shop keeps I created called Pimmy and Pizzy. German American's boyfriend was visiting so I offered to have him control authentic australian's inner demon. This resulted in him losing most of his money and acquiring all the bullshit items at Pimmy and Pizzy's stand. He and German American also immediately wanted to risk it all with the deck of many things, and neither of them pulled very well. I think I'll have to implement more opportunities to gamble in the future. French girl is leaving to go back to Paris soon, so I'm trying to make her last few in person sessions as fun as possible. Although I really thought they would get further in the campaign than they did this session. C'est la vie.

#january #friend #roommates #thesis #dnd

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despair-to-future-arcs · 1 year ago

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What is it Hisako?

Well I remember coming into the office on the 18th and when I did, I saw a recording along with a few others...

And can you tell me who those others are?

I think it was Mr. Tengan, myself, Mio and Gozu; That's as far as I remember that morning...

...

Date: July 18th, 2017

*Hisako walks into the meeting room*

ugh... I guess I'm still not over that hangover, at least Katsuo and Otoha aren't here...

So this is what you found sir...?

I did, it was in my office and when I play the audio, Kyoji Nakamura - one of the doctor's working with Class 77 and Hajime Hinata reveal they are Ultimate Despairs.

Wait are you serious? Can you play it...?

Hey what's going on - did something happen?

Ah, Mrs. Yasuda - apologies that you had to come in, was your morning well?

It is but I just walk in and hear you guys talking about Class 77 and Hajime Hinata being all Ultimate Despair, right?

Yeah, in fact mr. Tengan found it in his office just this morning and brought it here which he's going to play it right now.

Indeed, not sure of the other audio but I think the person wanted to remain anonymous...

*Kazuo press the button and a conversation plays out...*

???: So you say that those from Class 77-B and Hajime Hinata that is under the care of Makoto Naegi and the rest of Class 78 are Ultimate Despair?

KYOJI: Ye-Yes, they are... I mean, you guys did let them take care of them as they are around the same year, right? Well except for my boss but she usually is in her lab, making medicine...

???: I see, so do you plan to inform Future Foundation about this given that Future Foundation was going to kill all Ultimate Despairs no matter what?

KYOJI: Heh, I was pretty much inform by Makoto and Kyoko to not say anything about it,...whoops, I let that slip, didn't I? Pl-Please don't say anything about this to Future Foundation!

???: Oh of course not, I'll keep my lips seal...

*CLICK!*

Wait so those guys are Ultimate Despair?!

And Makoto is keeping quiet about it? Isn't he the Ultimate Hope, I thought he was working for Future Foundation to help with Ultimate Despair!

Indeed but maybe he had his reasons given the order, correct?

Well Kyosuke mostly gave the order but regardless, we might as well see for ourselves...

Mr. Tengan, if it be alright; may I come along with you? I feel you'll need protection given we don't know how they'll react.

Same here as well, I think I want to see this for myself, I mean if they are Ultimate Despairs you 2 need back-up.

That would be preferable, thank you both - Hisako, can you stay here and inform the others?

Of course sir, just... be careful...

Now let's go and take care of this... *the trio left together*

'Moments later, when the other heads of Future Foundation came in and Kyosuke called Kyoji about the recording and was going to reward him suddenly...'

*Kazuo was carried by Guzo, he look to be cover in blood while Gozu was holding his own wound which Mio was holding him up*

Gu-Guys, the Ultimate Despairs - they... THEY ATTACK THEM, HURRY SOMEONE HELP THEM!

...

'It was the last thing I remember before Kyosuke declare they all be killed instantly and you guys fled...'

#dr #danganronpa #dtfa #despair to future arc #ds:rw #despair side: re write #dr:thh #danganronpa: trigger happy havoc #dr3 #danganronpa 3 #hisako yasuda #kyoko kirigiri #great gozu #kazuo tengan #mio yonaga #anonymous #ds ep 7

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

828. part 2

This was prompted by @thetruefor3stspirit! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

[part1]

That comment had been a weird one to hear from the human and Nines spent the remaining car ride to the precinct thinking about it. They hadn’t been working together for long, but long enough for Nines to confirm what others had told him about the man: He was rude, impolite, swore more than was good for him and still thought of androids as machines, as objects. He could play along well enough, but Nines still was met by derogatory terms and jokes about his kind. Gavin hated Connor to the bone, couldn’t care less about androids and Nines knew he was sorted in somewhere in between those two.

For this assessment the human’s words had been strangely out of character. Maybe he had misunderstood something? Maybe it was one of Gavin’s frequent self-hating jokes, telling him that no one would take him as someone as bad as himself. Yeah, that had to be it. Anything else was impossible.

They worked relentlessly on their case, Gavin checking the evidence at hand while Nines accessed public CCTV and how many TR models were currently active in Detroit. Unfortunately, none of them got any results from their research. The evidence they had wasn’t enough to find any trace of the murderer, even after a thorough autopsy of the android victim. The footage was conveniently deleted, looped or obstructed and there were far too many TRs to just go around asking for a spare, ripped out Thirium pump. If anything, that told them the TR in question wasn’t working alone as they had neither the ability nor the computing power to hack the cameras that fast and effectively. Except for if their suspect was a RK900, of course. Then all that would be possible with just one unit. Nines really wished it wasn’t the case.

‘Hey, Gavin, Nines? You’ve got a new crime-scene to look at. I would hurry, it’s still fresh.’ Gavin was immediately up and picked up his jacket from the chair. Nines followed shortly. It had been two days since the last one and everyone knew they had enough open cases already. That could only mean… ‘What’s it, Chris? Any details?’ ‘Ripped out Thirium pump.’ ‘You are shitting me’, Gavin uttered. ‘Nope. Same shit as last time.’ ‘Phck.’

‘Phck, please don’t let this be some serial killer, please!’ Nines was processing the information the DPD had already gathered, ignoring the emotional outburst from his partner. ‘Victim is another android. It looks… awfully much like our last victim. It is very much possible that they were murdered by the same person.’ ‘Shit. Detroit really doesn’t need this kind of bullshit.’ ‘Don’t worry, Detective. At least they only target androids.’ Gavin clenched his teeth. Nines had quickly lost his uncertainty around him that had clung to him the first days of them working together. Apparently, the machine had concluded his assessment of him in keeping his distance. And what was that last comment for? Phcking androids. ‘Yeah, at least they only target androids’, he hissed at the droid. What had he thought? Nines was just a prick like any other.

They arrived at the scene and as Gavin entered the kitchen of the house, he near gagged from the chemical stench. It hurt in his nose like spilled washing agent. Only then he could squint at the body. And holy shit, that was a lot of blood. The blue liquid gathered in a pool underneath the android. It was still visible though and that let his brain run at top speed. ‘This happened less than two hours ago, right? As the thirium is still liquid?’ ‘That’s right, Detective.’ ‘And the hole in his chest is the same size again?’ ‘Correct.’ ‘How long would you need to erase all camera footage?’ ‘Detective, I am not-‘ ‘How long?’ ‘If I wanted to be as thoroughly as our suspect, it really just depends on the amount of cameras.’ ‘Well, look out of the window, I immediately counted at least five in those shops.’ ‘I see thirteen.’ ‘Ugh, smartass. How long then?’ ‘More than two hours. But we would need a warrant and it could still be a TR-‘ ‘Phck warrants, if this is a serial killer, do you want to wait until the next android dies?’ ‘What is it to you, Detective.’ ‘Phcking… Would you just hack the shit? Come on, we can argue about it later and we don’t have to tell anyone. We’ll get that footage eventually anyways.’

Nines scowled at the man, who was already kneeling in front of the victim, putting on gloves to lift the android’s clothing. Then he started to find a way to access the footage. ‘No.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘The murderer is a RK900.’ ‘Shit. Where is he now? I will call in backup.’ ‘And what will you tell them how we found it out?’ ‘I’ll bullshit something for them, okay toaster? Just find him, quick!’

They had found the RK900 by hacking several surveillance cameras on their way and had to fight the android in the end to subdue him. Both had the bruises to proof just how strong a RK900 unit was and Gavin swore to never anger his partner the way he had had his fun with Connor. They interrogated the machine and tried to find out where the rest of them were hiding but were met by it stating his missions and how they were not authorised to be told the information they searched. The RK900 was stubborn in his programming and created enough problems for the police that two permanent android guards were positioned in front of his cell. Or the cell next to his first one he had smashed the reinforced glass of. The machine tried everything to get out of there, displaying his brute force and disregard of his own health. He had severed his own hand to cause an electric surge on the lock of the door and had always doubled his efforts when he sensed an android outside. He babbled on about deviancy being a plague, a malfunction and that all free androids had to be eliminated.

‘It’s a fucking Terminator’, people commented. ‘How could someone build something like that?’ ‘God, this is scary.’ No one seemed to notice how everyone subconsciously kept their distance to Nines after the day the android had freed himself a second time and not only broke the glass, but also an arm and a leg of the guards before Connor could send the android into forced stasis. No one noticed how the heart rates of everyone not over two metres away of Nines spiked. No one noticed how Nines tried to make himself smaller, to not move too much in the precinct and kept seated in front of his terminal, even during break time.

‘Hey, lighten up a little.’ Nines flinched at the sudden contact of a hand on his shoulder. Who still dared to- ‘You’ve been red all day, tin-can.’ Of course. ‘Don’t you have work to do?’, Nines grumbled, scowl deepening as the human sat himself on his desk awfully close. Yeah, we got it. You are not scared. You have a death wish anyway, thinking androids are below you. ‘I actually have, yes. But it’s time for a break and your disco-light is damn distracting.’ ‘You never take your break, Detective.’ ‘Yeah, but you do. So why is your metal ass still here and not over there with drunkard and poodle?’ ‘None of your business.’ ‘Fine. But you know, keeping your distance to them won’t solve your problem.’ ‘What problem?’, Nines asked, his question more a threat than anything. A threat the human ignored as always: ‘They are scared of you because you are the same damn model than the idiot in our holding cell. You know, it’s funny, you predicted that scenario last week and somehow missed the whole thing playing out in front of you.’

‘I saw it, Detective’, the android snarled. ‘Don’t you think I would be the first to notice?’ ‘Well, you are not doing anything about it, so… no?’ ‘What is your problem? Just lean back and enjoy the show. You might lose an android on the force over this. Thought that would be a win for you?’ ‘I think you are overexaggerating.’ ‘What? You being happy when I’m gone? I don’t think so.’ Gavin sighed and slipped from the table. ‘You are a real pain in the ass, you know? Continue like this and I really would be.’

He yawned and walked over to Connor’s desk and Nines thought that would be the end of it. Until he was surprised by two folders repeatedly being smacked together. Nines looked over to the detective, who kept on doing this with two of Connor’s open case files while marching down the bullpen. Then he let them sink to his respective sides and yelled: ‘Attention, dipshits! The android in the holding cell is the killing machine here. I thought the DPD would only hire people who had the braincells to show for it, but apparently you all cheated your end exam or something. My partner isn’t the phcking serial killer and you assholes better don’t treat him like one. I need a fully operational partner and I won’t let you all pull him down, understood?’ Gavin had all the attention of a shocked crowd screaming through the precinct loud enough the people in the lobby had to hear it and the human nodded into the silence. ‘Good.’ He had arrived at the entrance and casually threw both folders into a – thankfully empty – trashcan. The man added a ‘Phcking Kindergarten’ to his speech and exited the precinct.

Nines had been left to the attention of his co-workers after Gavin had went outside and couldn’t help but blush and turn around to his terminal. What the hell had the human thought doing this? An hour later Gavin came back, holding a coffee from a local coffeeshop. He strode through the precinct as if it was a day like any other and sat down at his table across from Nines, ignoring the whispered talks of everyone else. The android however heard them loud and clear. ‘What the hell happened to Reed?’ ‘I know right? He hates attention!’ ‘Yeah, more importantly he hates androids. Didn’t you hear what he did before the revolution?’ ‘No. What?’ ‘I heard he was one of those guys abusing thrown out androids.’ ‘Holy shit. They let someone like that work at the police?’ ‘I know, right?’

Nines shook his head trying to concentrate on the screen in front of him again.

‘I bet he did it because Nines is convenient for him. Just some android he can command around.’

‘Poor Nines, stuck with such an asshole.’

‘Must be the worst. I wouldn’t last a day partnered up to Reed.’

Nines looked over to the man silently sipping his coffee, completely focussed on the photos of the crime-scene laying before him. He really seemed as if his head was in a different world, being able to ignore all of this. He had to hear it. How could he filter it out that well? As Gavin looked up to type up the report for this case, Nines interrupted: ‘Why?’ ‘Hmm?’ The man put down his coffee and looked at him innocently as if he hadn’t just guilt-shamed all of the precinct to be nice to him. ‘Why did you do that?’ ‘What? Bought me a coffee? I had my break and well, I couldn’t exactly stay after-‘ ‘You know exactly what I mean, don’t evade it!’ ‘Why did I defend my partner, you mean? Didn’t think I had to explain that. I’m keeping my promise, tin-can. Even if not, partners are supposed to have each other’s back.’ ‘What promise?’ ‘Last week? In the car? Don’t tell me you forgot that already!’ ‘You meant that?’ ‘Did I mean tha- Of course I meant that! Why else would I say it? Did you think I was joking?’ ‘At least I didn’t think you were being serious. You hate androids.’ Gavin leaned back in his chair and sighed. ‘Listen, Nines. I don’t hate androids, okay? I used to demolish thrown out machines. I could as well had been vandalising bus-stops or graffiti dicks on walls. I can’t care less about androids, that’s right. I couldn’t care less for humans either. But I care about the persons around me and what is right and what is wrong. Why else should I choose to work at the police? It definitely isn’t the nice work atmosphere and the great retirement policy.’

Nines just stared at the man, who quickly evaded his eyes. That was the most honest the human had been to him so far. Or had Nines just never noticed it? He thought back to their talk in the car. Had he really meant every word he had said? In the lights of his recent actions he might have. And Nines realised the chances weren’t too bad that he had let himself become a victim of prejudice. Everyone had told him the detective was an asshole, someone who hated androids and would rather see one in a ditch than save one on the job. He had been wrong to believe them. Gavin was a good partner, caring and compassionate about his job.

‘Thank you’, Nines said in all honesty, thinking back to what he had thrown at the human back in the car.

I don’t want to be pegged as someone like you.

‘Hmm?’ The human looked up at him again and Nines couldn’t shake the feeling Gavin had already been back at thinking about their case, not even bothering what Nines’ evaluation of him was once he made clear how he thought about the android.

‘I think I would be honoured to be put in a box with people like you.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #THEY ARE FLUFFY IDIOTS #Sorry #Miscommunication + good communication is my guilty pleasure #selective attention is something I have too Gavin #Hey do you remember that one person last lab course?#Hmm u need to be more specific...#Hmm they were really interested in weird instruments #boy or girl?#I don't phcking know #Gavin banging the folders together: I aint got no functional partner because of y'all now you aint get a break cause of me #Also rip Connor having to fish his papers out of there #Gavin's just petty like this

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fuckincrow · 2 years ago

Note

Courtiers reaction to their S/O's ball gown (or suit!) and maybe dancing with them to some very sweet music 👉🏻👈🏻 Also, since Valdemar is AroAce™ and if you don't mind you can write reader as their lab rat friend who basically drags them out of the dungeons because they need to get out and touch some grass <3

yes of course! i’ll do the valdemar one in another post

warnings: alcohol ment, gender neutral reader, valerius being kind of an ass but we love him for it

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Masquerade with the courtiers

volta

Volta absolutely loves the Masquerade! Specially all the delicious food, but enjoying it with her special someone sounds even more fun. She is pretty nervous to go with you, so she spends the week prior asking questions and trying to figure out what you’re both going to do.

When you walk in with your outfit, it takes her a moment to react. Then she starts bawling because you look so beautiful, now you have to help her do her makeup again. The whole night she’s holding your hand, she’s pretty small and can get lost easily, but even if it weren’t for that she’s dragging you to eat all of the food. You both enjoy a degustation of various colourful dishes that she barely takes time to actually enjoy, they’re all just so good! Just remind her not to chew with her mouth open.

“Hmph! S/O, you haff to try thiff!”

vlastomil

Oh my worm, Vlastomil is so excited for the Masquerade. He is a bit disappointed his ideas for a worm room were turned down, but you’re sure you can help him be a bit less upset about it, you two can have plenty of wormless fun. Though he is a bit better at hiding it than Volta, he is a bit worried about what you may think of him at your first masquerade together.

Those worries all leave when he sees you walk into the room, however. He is grinning a lot, and doesn’t hesitate to shower you in compliments, and of course cover you in kisses. You have to remind him both of your makeup looks need to last the whole night. The rest of the evening goes smoothly, although he won’t stop showing you off to everyone he talks to. He’s just so proud of his partner.

“Have you SEEN how delightful my darlingest S/O looks tonight?? Oh, my little wormling don’t give me that look, it’s true!”

vulgora

Out of everyone in this list, Vulgora is probably the most excited for the Masquerade. They’re like a big puppy, except it’s a puppy that yells at people because everything needs to be perfect. They usually don’t care too much for organising the event, but it’s their first masquerade with THEIR partner, of course it has to be the best masquerade ever!

When you walk in with your outfit they just stare at you. They’re watching you with wide eyes, a blush spread across their face. It’s not often that Vulgora is soft, but they kind of forget about being angry when they see how gorgeous you look.

Once that initial gawking is out of the way, they make sure to compliment you. While avoiding eye contact and blushing a lot, that is, but still. When you compliment them back, they melt.

The rest of the night is spent with you wandering around and being the life of the party, Vulgora manages to set one of the tables on fire, but it wouldn’t be your partner without breaking anything.

“You uh- AHEHM. You look very pretty. H- HEY, DON’T LAUGH! OR I’M NOT DANCING WITH YOU!”

valerius

Although he may not admit it, Valerius loves the Masquerade. He’s usually a refined person, and although he hates having to mingle with the commoners, the masquerade is his opportunity to get absolutely wasted and have no consequences. Usually that’s about it for him, but because it’s his first masquerade with you, he actually wants to remember it.

He always spends a lot of time getting himself ready beforehand, which means you’re ready before he is, this man takes forever. When he finally walks out to see you waiting outside, he’s not able to hide his flustered reaction. Though internally he is very giddy, he simply rolls his eyes and tells you to hurry up. He does spare you a few compliments once you’re alone, though.

Valerius isn’t much of a dancer, he rather keep watch, but when a slow song starts to play he can’t resist to dance with you. Mainly to make sure no one else does, you’re his after all, and these peasants need to know.

“You look okay, I guess… Come on, let’s get going. …Fine, you look perfect. Shut up.”

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may or may not have gotten a bit carried away with valerius and vulgora, i love them so much

#the arcana courtiers #the arcana x reader #consul valerius #pontifex vulgora #praetor vlastomil #procurator volta

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mingishoe · 3 years ago

Text

Ateez as Romantic Tropes

Ateez x Reader (heavily cliche but that’s exactly the point)

Kim Hongjoong ♡ Friends to Lovers

Hongjoong is the friend you’ve had for as long as you can remember. The two of you went through all of your firsts together. First day of school, first pet, first time riding a bike, first job, first date, first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. Hongjoong is just the type of person who makes you feel incredibly comfortable. Hongjoong is your safe space, he’s someone you can go to whenever you’re sad or angry because you know he’ll always make you feel better and that’s the reason your friendship shifted into something more. The two of you just started to spend a little bit too much time together. Your touches began to linger and the way you looked at each other started to become different. Instead of asking if you wanted to hang out, Hongjoong would ask if you wanted to go on a date. You and Hongjoong would go on various dates: movies, picnics, amusement parks, restaurants, sleepovers, and even going out of town together. The two of you were completely in love with each other, one wrapped around the others finger, and everyone knows it.

Park Seonghwa ♡ Boss/Secretary

Okay so like being honest the only reason you would’ve applied for the job as Seonghwa’s secretary is because he’s hot. You knew absolutely nothing about Seonghwa or his company but hey, you got the job. You’ve never had an office job before so it went with a lot of trial and error and lots of Seonghwa correcting you. You always purposely wore tight outfits that accentuated on your body for the hope Seonghwa will notice, and he did. Seonghwa made his moves slowly. At first he just tried to make conversation but didn’t get too far because he was always dragged away. After a while he occasionally asked you to lunch or dinner for “business purposes” but the conversations were on anything but business. You and Seonghwa gradually got more comfortable around each other as the two of you spent more time together outside of work. People around the office started to notice Seonghwa’s mood shift. It took Seonghwa foREVER to get the balls to actually ask you out because he was worrying about crossing the line, so when he finally asked you the biggest smile spread on your face. You and Seonghwa are basically inseparable as you’re constantly in his office, staying after to keep him company, and basically living at his place.

Jung Yunho ♡ First Love

Yunho would be your first proper boyfriend. It would be when you’re relatively young as well late teens to early twenties so both of you were still trying to figure it out. Young love doesn’t always last but while you have it, it’s the best feeling. Being with Yunho made you feel complete. The two of you went on dates every week and were attached at the hip. If someone saw one of you and the other wasn’t there they’d be worried something happened. Study dates, coffee dates, picnics, amusement parks, your relationship was filled with excitement. Being together for so long created a relationship you’ve never be able to forget. Moments like this, when you’re young, create core memories with someone who you’ll always have a special place in your heart for. Unfortunately… young love is only young love and all good things eventually come to an end.

Kang Yeosang ♡ Enemies to Lovers

You’ve never particularly known why you used to not be able to stand Yeosang. It was just that every time you saw Yeosang, it made you want to strangle the shit out of him. He was just so rude and sarcastic you wanted to avoid him any chance possible. But of course, with your luck, ended up becoming lab partners. You found yourself constantly stressed because it felt as Yeosang wasn’t doing anything. You had spend several weeks together trying to sort your assignment out but it was immensely awkward and the two of you would sit on opposite ends of your kitchen while you did all the work while he was scrolling on his phone. One day everything just became too much and you started crying in the middle of an argument you and Yeosang were in. Yeosang’s voice got quiet and his eyes were wide as he stared at you as you shoved your face in your hands. From then things shifted a little bit. Yeosang made a little bit more of an effort to talk to you. The silence became a comfortable one as the two of you got more comfortable. The more you learned about Yeosang, the more you understood the way he acted and realized that he didn’t actually mean any harm. Yeosang found himself wanting to spend more time around you. Now the lab was finished and there was no excuse to talk to you, he didn’t know how to talk to you. Several more days went by until Yeosang decided to suck it up and straight up ask if you wanted to go on a date with him. Both of you were surprised. You were surprised because you didn’t expect Yeosang to actually like you back, and Yeosang was surprised because he didn’t know how he managed to get the balls to ask you out. From then on you and Yeosang had the same teasing relationship but this time it felt completely different.

Choi San ♡ The Boy Next Door

It’s always a little bit unnerving when you get new neighbors. You don’t know where they came from or who they are- they could be a serial killers for all you know. However one day when you were being nosy you saw the most beautiful man walk out of the apartment. He caught you staring and gave you a smile as he walked over to introduce himself. It was awkward for a while as you tried to catch him as he was leaving so he would make conversation. One day someone would knock on your door and asked to borrow something because boxes were still missing and such. Every couple of days you’d almost expect another knock at your door with a smiling San asking to borrow something again. No boxes were missing, but San just wanted to find an excuse to see you. One day San knocked on your door and when you opened it he was standing there with a large smile on his face and a cake in his hands. San felt bad for lying to you so he made you a cake! You let San inside and the two of you talked all night as San told you the truth and the two of you laughed as you told him about your own way of trying to see him. From that one incident the two of you would bake and cook together all the time. Neither of you were the best, but it was fun to do together and suddenly you’re extremely grateful for the new next door neighbor.

Song Mingi ♡ Soulmates/second chances

Your relationship with Mingi is the definition of right person wrong time. The two of you got in a relationship when y’all were still very young. The two of you didn’t know who you were and it was a time of immense growth in your lives and it ended up not working out. When you two were together, it was obvious how much you loved each other. Your hands were always on each other, you would look at each other with honey dripping from your eyes, you involved each other in everything you did, but right person wrong time. It literally felt like your world was ending when the two of you weren’t together anymore. You spend day after day crying wishing that something could’ve been different. Years passed by and you still thought about Mingi all the time. You’d walk out in public and someone would be wearing the same fragrance as him. Things you saw reminded you of Mingi and you would reflect on how he would enjoy it. One day you’d be out at a restaurant or a party and you thought you heard Mingi’s voice but how could that be? When you would walk by Mingi would have to do a triple take to see if it was actually you. He would immediately stop what he was doing and run after you. The second you two realized it was the other you immediately wrapped yourself in each other’s arms and stayed there for who knows how long. The two of you did everything you could to help each other heal and become someone who loves yourself so you can love each other. Mingi is your soulmate and nothing can change the love you two have for each other. It only took a little bit of time.

Jung Wooyoung ♡ Pretend Relationship

Your family always pressed you to getting a significant other and from annoyance, just hoping they’ll shut up, you told them you already had one. Now they’re coming into town and you plead your roommate Wooyoung to pretend he’s your boyfriend for the time being. Your apartment was only two rooms, one room for you and one for Wooyoung, so when your family came in you stupidly told them they could just stay with you and Wooyoung meaning Wooyoung was gonna have to sleep with you. The entire day you were filled with anxiety trying to figure out how you were supposed to sleep and act like Wooyoung’s your boyfriend for the next week. The two of you did the absolute most, pillows in between y’all, one would sleep with their head at the bottom of the bed the other would sleep properly, but every time the two of you would wake up in each other’s arms. The two of you lay on the sofas together as you get way too comfortable with each other. Wooyoung eventually asks you out on a date and like 20 emotions ran through you because all of a sudden it wasn’t pretend anymore and now you and Wooyoung are a lil something.

Choi Jongho ♡ Best Friends Brother

Before you even knew who Jongho was, you had a crush on Jongho. Your best friend has been your friend for years and she always talked about her brother, but you never knew who he was because he was never at home. One day you were invited to a family party and when you saw Jongho there were incredibly confused. You were introduced to him and the both of you stood with a flushed expression. All of a sudden Jongho was around more often. Every time you went to their house Jongho was sitting in the living room to try and catch you as you walked in. Jongho would attempt to join the two of you whenever you’d go out but was constantly denied. As much as you really liked Jongho you were completely obvious to his actions plus you couldn’t possibly date him with being your best friends brother. You somehow managed to find Jongho at a time where it was just the two of you. The two of you talked for what felt like forever for pretty much the first time. This was the first time the two of you had ever been alone and the both of you were trying to make the most of it. You mentioned how the two of you needed to talk more often, so Jongho used that opportunity to ask you out to dinner one night. From then the two of you ket your thing secret from your friend until the two of you felt like it was actually becoming something more. After that, you, Jongho, and your friend we’re together all the time, but you made sure to spend some alone time with Jongho.

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