#also its supposed to be cold where the 4th day off takes place (for me) so i was like why not give him a shirt

[dragonknightofsummerset]

The new scene has me in a chokehold

Thank you @andengeu for perfectly capturing the momentary shock of Nayeli and Blade being close to each other, and being aware of each other.

[therealpussybangs]

When you find out the Haikyuu boys cheated.. Pt. 2

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Starring:    Timeskip!Aone, Goshiki, Kita, Lev                                                          

A/N- Tw: Cheating, crying, yelling, fighting, mentions of sexual-    intercourse, swearing, please let me know if i missed anything!!  

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Aone-

                Today was supposed to be your 4th year anniversary with your amazing boyfriend Aone. However, that date idea had quickly turned to shit when you see your boyfriend at a booth with some other chick.

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, because you were exceptionally early to this date, so you walk over, hoping it was a sister or some other relative. 

But when you finally made it over to the table, your boyfriend looked like he had seen a ghost. Pale, scared, and he looked sick. The thing that hurt the most was the guilt swimming in his eyes. Eyes that were once only for you. Eyes that were always warm and welcoming, the eyes that felt like home. His once beautiful and bright eyes were now dulled, guilty and scared.

Aone felt like he couldn’t move. He was stuck in his chair when he saw you. 

‘Our date isn’t for another 20 minutes... how could this happen...?’ He thinks to himself. Then he remembers what you had said earlier about being early for the special today. He curses under his breath and opens his mouth to make excuses, but that’s when he hears a sniffle.

He reluctantly looks up to see you crying, and swiping at your eyes wildly. His heart shatters and sinks to the floor and he immediately knows he shouldn’t lie, it’ll only make it worse.

“Baby i’m so sorry....” He looks down, not ready to hear your reply.                     “Was i not good enough..? What should I have done differently..?” You say in a small, hurt voice.

“No! I-” He was cut off by the other girl sitting in front of him.

“Bubs who’s this ugly little girl? She a friend of yours? Or what..she kinda smells a little..” She says in a squeaky, bratty voice.

“Oh, haha; i’m actually his soon to be ex-girlfriend! So nice to meet you!! And so nice to leave you ‘bubs’!” You say with a fake smile, and filled with sarcasm. 

“Babe- do-” Aone started quietly, he always was so quiet and reserved. But he seemed so talkative with this new girl....

“By Aone! Bye bitch I don’t know!” You say oh so confidently, until you go to itch your eyes. ‘oh... tears..’ You began to cry harder as you realize you just left the one thing you loved most.

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Goshiki-

 You and Tsutomu had been pretty distant after a fight you two had, and you wanted to go over and apologize to him because you realized you were in the wrong. 

However, what you did not expect was to see another car parked outside of your shared home.

This fight you both had was because of some silly coworker jokingly hitting on you. You had known this person since you were little, so it was nothing new. They were also fully aware of the fact that you were in a committed relationship with Tsutomu. 

So, who could be at his house? Was he really hurt enough to call a friend or relative for help/advice? Now you felt really bad, so you quickly make your way up the steps to your shared home and push past the door. 

What you did not expect to hear, were muffled whimpers and Goshiki’s smooth, calming voice. ‘Wh-what?’ You think maybe it was something else, maybe it was Goshiki whimpering and sniffling and someone else sweet talking him. But once you walk into your bedroom....you shut down.

“B..baby,,?” You ask, voice small. You were shaking and trying your best to keep your cool and hold back the tears threatening to spill. “Whats going on..?”

Goshiki immediately whips his head around from where it was buried between someone elses thighs. But when he sees your hurt eyes and sad features guilt pools at the bottom of his stomach. He was with someone else, on your shared bed, in your shared home. This realization suddenly hit him like a brick, and he immediately shot straight up. “I-I can explain!!” 

“Explain what? The fact you were pleasuring some random whore on our bed?? What else is there to explain Tsut- Goshiki?” You yell back, the tears from before finally breaking the barrier and streaming down your face.

Goshiki just stood there, shaken up and regretful, not daring to say a word, knowing it will make things worse. But you persisted and asked him again why he did it and he started to get annoyed with your yelling. “I was angry with your stupid fucking co-worker for flirting with you and smacking your ass and always eating lunch with you!! I wanted you to know how it felt!!” He yelled back, without thinking. Bad idea.

You were speechless to say the least. He did not just compare cheating to harmless banter between friends...did he? He didn’t just call your absolute bestfriend stupid...did he?

“Get out. Both of you.” You say, your tone stone cold.

“What..” Your ex says, his voice small and shaky, almost as if it was any louder it would shatter you.

“GET OUT!! NOW!!” You say, now yelling as warm, fat tears stream down your face. You were furious, deflated, tired, and so, so done. You thought you were going to be sick. You had trusted him, and here he was, with a beautiful woman, probably 10x better than you. And to think you were going to apologize to him.

“Baby... we can fix this! right? Move forward!” He says, not so confident or angry this time.

“What, so you can go off with some other bitch as soon as the going gets tough again? No. We’re over. Goodbye Goshiki, please don’t try to contact me, i’ll have someone come get my stuff.”

And with that, you slammed the door and walked out of the place you one called home. 

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Kita-

Kita was a simple man. He wanted 2 things in life: A family with you, and his rice fields to do well.

However he did not take it very well when you said you were not ready for a family, and he stormed out on you. That night you cried yourself to sleep, thinking about how you could be better.

The past month and a half, you and Kita have been pretty distant, and you have been preparing yourself for a family in any way you can. For example: Finishing the last of your extra studies, learning how to make extra delicious meals, even though Kita wasn’t ever there to try them, and you even started looking into parenting books. You just wanted to be the perfect wife for him.

So one day you waited for him to come home, ready to tell him the big news; you were ready to start a family. So when he finally got back, you told him!

“Babe! I think i’m ready for a family! With you!” You said happily and confidently. But when you saw his eyes widen in surprise, you didn’t expect them to also be oh so regretful.

“Y-you are..?” He asks, suddenly shaking. His stomach drops to the floor while his heart breaks simultaneously. You... you prepared yourself all on your own, just for him. And he knows he fucked up, getting some other girl pregnant, but he was so angry and sad he just.... it just... happened.

Just then, he gets a call, from the one person he really did not want to talk to. The other woman he got pregnant. He was so scared to pick up the phone, so you did. He froze. ‘No..! You cant pick that up...it will ruin us..’

“Hey! Shin! The baby just kicked! I hope its a girl.... Shin..?” The girl says on the other end, happy and excited.

“wh..what?” You say, confused. “Who are you..?”

“I’m his girlfriend! Who are you silly?” She says, still bubbly.

“I-” You start, and then hang up. It could not be. He did not get another woman pregnant, he was your baby, no one else...right? You slowly look over to Kita, hoping you didn’t just hear what you think you did.

He looks down, guilt and shame washing over his built figure.

“I’m so sorry... it wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did and I can’t just leave her by herself..” He says, voice gradually getting louder.

“So.. you couldn’t just wait a little longer huh...it’s okay, I hope you two will be happy.” You walked away after that, and just then was when Kita realized he was loosing you. He panicked, and reached out for your hand, but you were already gone, into the bedroom you both shared, presumably packing.

But it’s when he sees you walk out the door, tears streaming down your face, and sobs wracking you body, that reality finally shifted. You were leaving, and he was now responsible for a child that wasn’t yours. He was mortified to say  the least.

“Bye Shin, i’ll always love you y’know.. I hope your child is as beautiful as you.”

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Lev-

Today was your birthday! And you were so excited to spend it with your beanpole boyfriend! But he hadn’t answered your texts yet, and your calls either. You understood he had a photo-shoot, but it was over hours ago, even his manager didn’t know where he was. So you decided to check his snapmap because you were genuinely worried??

But when you saw his bitmoji at an unrecognized address, you freaked out and drove there immediately.

When you got there, his car was parked in the driveway, and the lights were on inside. You could also hear the faint hum of soft music. 

Lev was always so gentle with you, and he never raised hid voice or got angry with you. You loved that about him, how soft he was. When you guys first met, he was willing to take things slow, and wait until you were both comfortable with eachother. 

He was always so patient, or so you thought. You weren’t ready for anything intimate other than kissing, and he said he was okay with that. But horny men will be horny men. 

But you at least thought he could wait a little longer for you, his girlfriend of 11 months. At least those were the thoughts that flew through your head as you walked into the mystery house.

It was Lev, laid out on a bed with silk sheets, rose petals scattered everywhere, and Champaign on the nightstand next to him. 

Well, more like next to the other woman in bed with him, dressed in red lacy lingerie and pretty makeup. The candle-light makes them both look so majestic, well they would if they both didn’t have shocked/guilty expressions on their faces. 

Lev got up immediately and tried to grab your arm, but you shrugged him off.

“I trusted you, and I loved you, I still love you! But here you are, with another woman, on my birthday. Happy fucking birthday to me i guess.”

He stood there dumbfounded as you walked out, your confident facade breaking as tears slip down your rosy cheeks. Then, you drive away, knowing things will never be the same...

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

Annnnnd it’s finally out! Not proofread i’m sorry </3 Kita’s hurt the most smh

ALSOOOO don’t forget you are fucking gorgeous and ilysm pls take care of your gorgeous self!

★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*★・‥…━━━ﾟ+.★★ﾟ+.━━━…・‥★*ξ･(ｪ)･ Ҙ*

[hiyaluronic]

I am to the point where I am about to leave it as is and just move on because I keep getting hung up on the scene below... This is the 4th time I have seriously rewrote this scene. I am a little happier with this version but now my brain is stuck. I-just-errrrg... --

Joe gasped back to awareness against the echo of his name and the stinging ache of a fist to his jaw. He groaned against the pain and worked to keep his feet under him, to stop his weight from pulling on his already overworked shoulders. His arms were stretched high above him and held painfully in place by a pair of handcuffs and a length of chain. 

“I do apologize for the harsh treatment, Mr. Jones, but we are on quite the time limit.”

Joe squinted at the words and let his head fall to rest against his bare arm, his jaw throbbing as he worked to stretch out the sore joint. “Harsh treatment? I’ve raised goats that could hit harder than your man there.”

There was a spike of annoyance from the balding and heavily muscled man before him that helped soothe the hollow feeling which had been an uncertain companion since he’d woken here hours before, muddled and cold. He wasn’t sure if it was the last dregs of whatever drug in his system or the fact that he could no longer feel the warmth of Nicky’s consciousness curling up like a cat against his own, but the emptiness had created minute tears in his shields. Creating a constant low level feedback loop that reverberated around him that made it hard to focus. 

Joe had to maintain a constant situational awareness of his shields to keep from being overwhelmed. It’s why he missed the darkened figure in his periphery until he felt a slight pressure between his shoulders, a gentle touch that had his skin crawling. A greasy sort of sickness slithered up from the heat of the person’s touch and wormed its way through the cracks to settle like a heavy weight against the base of his consciousness. The unwanted intrusion left him nauseated.

Joe jerked away from the touch as best he could and swallowed against the queasy feeling he could feel slosh up his esophagus when the hand pressed tighter into the bare skin of his back.

With a sigh the hand slipped from his shoulders and Joe watched the shadowed form move to stand in front of him revealing the slender form of Sondermann. “Normally, You would be nothing more than a footnote on an otherwise boring business venture and I would be halfway back to London by now.”

Joe narrowed his eyes at Sondermann’s posh voice and the sudden flourish of euphoria that fluttered like butterflies around him, masking the snake-like undercurrent that Joe knew was still there, radiating under the suave mask of Sondermann’s overconfidence. He’d felt this glorious rush of amazement many times before from healers, religious zealots, to modern-day doctors, and various undefined people in-between and it always ended the same. A few more deaths and no new answers to speak of. 

“But, I must honestly admit, you have piqued my interest, Mr. Jones. How does someone so seemingly ordinary, not only manage to somehow dispose of my sniper but also manage to mysteriously rise from the grave after a particularly nasty shot to the heart?”

Joe leaned back as Sondermann reached forward to try and touch his cheek. He eyed the man wearily when Sondermann smiled gently at his movement, the man’s hand hovering so close to his cheek he could feel the warmth of Sondermann’s hand.

Joe bit his tongue when Sondermann huffed a laugh. He wanted nothing more than to jam his leg into the man’s gut and kick that stupid smile off his face but he needed to buy his time. He needed more information. Needed to know how much Sondermann knew and what exactly had happened after he’d passed out - where the rest of his family was - before he could start making escape plans.

Sondermann let his hand drop and shifted his weight to stand more comfortably. “You are truly a modern day Asclepius, Mr. Jones. The only true question I wish to have answered is...”

Joe locked eyes with the bastard as Sondermann questioned quietly, “What God resurrected you?”

Joe narrowed his eyes and kept silent.

“I don’t suppose you’d feel obliged to divulge your secret?” Sondermann looked at him, the man’s face a mask of softness, that smarmy gentle smile playing on his lips. Joe swallowed and stood still as Sondermann stepped closer to him, the heat of Sondermann’s overconfidence clouding his feelings and forcing him to take a deep breath to clear his head. 

“No, I suppose not.” There was a beat of silence where something thrilling overcame the excessive hubris of Sondermann’s emotions and curled tightly around his consciousness as Sondermann leaned forward, the man’s breath hot against his ear, “Though, I have to wonder if your partner will be more forthcoming? Tell me, Mr. Jones, how many times do you suppose I will have to shoot him between those pretty little eyes of his before he either breaks or stays down for good?” 

Joe tensed, hands clenched tight around the chain holding him steady, “Touch him and that’ll be your end.”

Sondermann raised an eyebrow, curious. “And whatever shall you do, tied up and useless as you are?”

Yusuf smirked, the sound of muffled pops echoing beyond the safety of the room. “Nicky doesn’t need me to protect him.”

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 23)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff

(part 22) (series masterlist)

you hadn’t known what to expect for the next few weeks, working closely with seonghwa every day on your school project while also trying to gauge his and yeosang’s attitude. 

because you didn’t wanna further the strain between you and seonghwa but you also didn’t wanna create one with yeosang. though it’s not even like you had a say in the matter and could switch partners had your boyfriend expressed his discomfort. 

but when you told him, he said nothing of the sort; in fact, he acted shockingly nonchalant and calm.

“hi,” you squeaked out, jumping in the front seat of his car and leaning over to peck his cheek. 

he turned to look at you with a cute smile, grabbing your face and connecting your lips in a quick kiss. you smiled against them at the natural way they fit together, how fast he was to tug you into him and then flick his tongue over your mouth.

“hey baby, how was your day?” he asked cheekily, like he wasn’t just trying to tease you right in this car. 

“it was good,” you tell him, looking down and deciding to leave out that you were called a whore today in front of your whole class. that you had to calm down in the nurse and nearly called him in a panic induced fit. 

but it appears he already knows. because he just quirks his eyebrow at you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it lightly. “oh? that’s not what i heard.”

your face falls and you immediately look at him, the pout on your face causing him to smile softly. “how’d you even know...”

“doesn’t matter,” he says, still in disbelief mingi was actually the one who caught him in the hallway before the final bell and told him you had a rough day today. “are you okay? why didn’t you call me?”

your heart warms at his soft tone and sweet words, a smile creeping on your face. “mingi helped me, i didn’t wanna bother you.”

he lets out a huff, rolling his eyes and flicking you on the forehead lightly. “ow! why did you-” you whine, rubbing at the stinging spot on your head.

“figures when i want you to bother me now, you don’t, poor girl,” he teases sarcastically. you roll your eyes away from him but he’s quick to place his hand under your chin, turning so you look right at him. “i’m kidding, love,” he says, caressing your cheek as his lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “but when something like that happens, i want you to tell me. you’re never gonna bother me, okay?”

your lips pull into another pout, a happy warmth spreading through your chest. and you know boyfriends are supposed to say that kind of stuff but it doesn’t stop you from feeling so stupidly happy. “what, so only you can bother me?” 

a smirk spreads across his face at your comment, leaning in to peck the tip of your nose. “exactly.”

you let out a giggle, watching him back out of his spot and make his way toward your house. and you know before you get home, you’re gonna have to let him know about your partner. 

“well then there is something else i wanna tell you,” you mumble, playing with his fingers on the middle console. he only hums questioningly, looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“i...got partnered with seonghwa for a project.”

you don’t really know what to make of the silence, slightly unnerved by the blank, contemplative look on his face. because he could be thinking you two asked to be put together, that now seonghwa’s gonna try something or that you’re gonna have second thoughts or-

“oh,” his deep voice eventually say. “and did you guys talk about that?”

you nod your head, pressing your lips together before telling him that you guys are planning to meet in the library for the next few weeks. 

“oh that’ll be good then,” he says, intertwining your fingers before he catches your gaze at a stop sign. “why do you look so weird?”

a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, shaking your head at the boy’s bluntness. “because it’s kind of a weird situation, isn’t it? i mean, he’s finally just talking to me and it’s barely.”

and maybe yeosang’s just stupidly cocky, maybe even a tad arrogant, that he thinks he has nothing to worry about. that you made your choice and got to know him and now you’re the ones who are together. 

“i mean, i guess,” yeosang says because he can acknowledge the fact that it’s probably more awkward for you. “but i don’t think it’ll be as bad as you think.”

you hum lowly, pleasantly surprised by how well he’s taking this news. you didn’t think nor want him to be a raging possessive lunatic but you also didn’t expect him to be this nonchalant. “i guess,” you mumble, squeezing his hand lightly before giving him a small smile. “so you’re not mad?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth that has your stomach fluttering, your lips quirking upwards. “no, baby,” he says, “you’re my girl and seonghwa’s my best friend. i’m mad just i won’t be drive you home now.” he meets your face halfway, bringing yo closer so your lips can connect.

but just before you can deepen the kiss, the blare of a car horn behind you causes you to yelp and jump away from him. “shit!”

“fuckin’ asshole,” yeosang grumbles, throwing up his middle finger before stepping on the gas. you squeal his name in punishment, turning around to make sure you’re not being followed by your boyfriend’s appalling road rage.

and you suppose he really did have nothing to worry about because these past weeks of you working with seonghwa had been great. the both of you had split the work evenly, talking quietly and laughing amongst each other and it reminded you a lot of your old selves. 

the way your conversation naturally flowed, the way he always would make sure you were okay, asking if you ever needed a break or wanted him to take over the writing portion. it made your heart hurt in a way, seeing that even in this shaky patch of you relationship, he still makes sure you’re comfortable and looks out for you. 

so that’s why when you walk into 4th period and don’t see him, you’re surprised. he doesn’t even come in late and then soon enough, the class is over and he still has never showed. but then you catch san in the hallway, the happy, dimply boy giving you a hug and expressing how much him and the boys miss you.

“i miss you guys, too,” you whine, reminiscing in the bustling hallway about your trip to the amusement park.

“winter break is soon, we’ll have to do something then,” the boy says excitedly, telling you about an array of parties and events they’re already planning as he walks you to your next class. 

“thank you for walking me,” you tell him, honestly missing the chaos of him and wooyoung and hoping to bring mingi and yunho around them again. “by the way, do you know where seonghwa is? he wasn’t in class last period.”

“he’s home sick,” san says, “think he has the flu or something.”

and you don’t know what made you get the idea. maybe it was the fact that you still had work to do or that these past few weeks of being with him has softened you or just because you feel like it’s the right thing to do.

but then an hour after school, you knock on his door. a thermos of homemade soup in hand with an outline of the rest of the work in your backpack with the hope that you’re not overstepping or about to make shit awkward again.

your heart jumps when seonghwa answers, all messy black hair and gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips; it appears you severely underestimated just how handsome even a sick seonghwa could be. 

“y/n,” he says, voice groggy and stuffy but his eyes lighting up with some sort of recognition. “shit, i’m sorry i forgot to text you.”

“it’s okay, i ran into san and asked him,” you tell him softly, smiling sadly at how sick he sounds. “and i did the rest of the outline for the project but i didn’t realize you were so sick so we obviously don’t have to do it. but i also brought you...” you hold up the thermos shyly before continuing to ramble on about how its chicken noodle and always helps you when you’re sick.

his head is leaned on the doorway, a smile pulling at his lips that causes the words to die in your throat. “what?” you squeak, realizing the change on his face.

“just forgot how much you ramble,” he mumbles lowly before stepping back. “come in, it’s cold.”

“a-are you sure? you can just take it and-”

“come in,” he repeats, opening the door wider and watching you walk in. you follow him into the kitchen, memories of the day after that party swarming in your brain. the way seonghwa had comforted and held you upstairs before yeosang and the other boys came over. the way you thanked yeosang and saw the first inkling of care and goodness in him.

it’s strange being here again, even more strange that you’re alone, but it’s not as awkward as you would’ve thought. you don’t feel as awkward as you thought. you slide the thermos over to seonghwa, his quietly spoken “thank you,” causing you to smile softly at him.

“we don’t have to do this work, seonghwa. we can finish it tomorrow or the next day. it’s not due till monday.”

he slurps a noodle into his mouth, the hot broth sliding down his sore throat before shaking his head. “it’s fine, i’ll feel better after this,” he says, “thank you for coming.” 

and while he is incredibly thankful, he’s also trying really hard not to overthink your intentions and make this out to be more than it is. you’re dating yeosang and you’re just being nice so there’s no reason for this stupid, happy feeling to be swirling in him.

“of course,” you tell him softly, “it’s the least i could do.”

his eyes narrow at you, confused by your words. “what do you mean?”

“what do you mean?" his hand slowly reaches down to fix your messy bed hair, almost like he's doing it absentmindedly.

"you're joking, right?" you say, picking your face up off seonghwa’s chest and leaning your chin against him to meet his gaze head on. "i always seem to need you."

you laugh aloud and shake your head recalling the past few weeks of knowing him. "i mean defending my honor on a daily basis, teaching me how to ski and protecting my many falls, giving me rides in the rain, paying for this very trip...it's actually a little sick what a damsel in distress i am."

his quiet laugh rings through the room. "you really are, aren't you?" he teases, head cocked to the side as a giant smirk covers his face. because he'd be lying if he said he didn't throughly enjoy doing each and every one of those things.

(or at least, almost all of them).

"okay well, you're not supposed to agree!" you whine, slapping his chest lightly with a giggle, "what about like hey y/n, no you're not that big of a mess, don't worry."

he purses his lips to the side, giving you a skeptical look that warrants another smack to his chest. but this time, he catches your hand with a smile, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft peck in your skin.

"what about, i'll be there for you as long as you need me," he says quietly, replacing his lips with the gentle stroke of his thumb, "how does that sound?"

“nothing,” you say, shaking the memories from your head. “i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you wanna add that no one ever seems to be home in this giant house anyway. because if there’s one thing you noticed about rich kids, besides their attitude problems and fancy cars, it’s that none of their parents ever seem to be around.

you two share shy smiles, his assurance that he’s okay now followed by the sound of your giggle when his slurping echoes through the empty house. you work quietly next to him as he finishes the soup, his gaze roaming you ever so often to admire your look of concentration. your tongue peeking out, eyebrows pulled together, the pen twirling between your fingers as you think.

“so how should we split the presentation?” you ask him, “i was thinking we could just-” you look over to see his eyes already on you, that intensity that always used to make you fluttery and nervous back in his eyes. “what?” 

the squeak in your voice causes him to chuckle, wiping at his mouth before rising from his seat. “nothing,” he says lowly, shaking his head as he remembers this isn’t like old times. he can’t compliment you or distract you in the ways he wants to or act as if everything’s like before just because you’re here in his house alone. 

“oh...okay,” you say, biting your lip nervously. you watch as he washes your thermostat, suggesting ways to set up your presentation and requesting sweetly if he’ll do the longer slides.

“i’m...really really bad at public speaking, if you hadn’t notice by my normal speaking, and i already know it’s gonna be such a disaster so-”

“it’s fine, y/n,” he chuckles tiredly, “of course i’ll do them.”

you smile brightly at him, thanking him before flipping over to organize the slides in your notebook. and it’s takes a few seconds for you to feel it, the gradual pain and sting of the paper slicing into the tip of your pointer finger. but then it all hits you and you yelp out an expletive, seonghwa’s head snapping up immediately. 

he’s over to you in a second, not even thinking as he grabs your hand to examine the cut on your finger. you both inhale sharply at the foreign feeling of his hand on yours, the soft skin and gentle touch something you had grown so used to at one point. relished in and sought out and made you feel like a giddy middle schooler.

but now it only serves to hurt you both, even the slightest of touches feeling wrong and inappropriate. but then your brains start to rationalize at the same time how there’s no romantic intent behind these actions, that the loyalty to a best friend and a boyfriend is stronger than this.

“are you okay?” he asks, adding on “come with me” before you can fakely chuckle out that it’s only a paper cut.

“this really isn’t necessary, seonghwa,” you tell him, sitting on the counter of his bathroom as he cleans the bloody slice in your skin. his touch is gentle and soft, treating you as if you’re made of glass and could shatter at any second. you wince when the alcohol stings you, his hand closing around your finger to lessen your pain.

“sorry,” he hums lowly, looking at you with a sorrowful expression, “but it is. you can’t not clean it.”

“who are you?”

you smile timidly, hesitantly making your way over to the man who’s even more stunning up close. he looks down at your figure and smirks upon seeing your slippers and fuzzy, $10 pajama pants.

"i’m so sorry,” you say immediately, “my… my cat right there, yeah, she got out and i’ve been chasing after her for…i don’t know how long actually but i have to imagine it’s been for a little over an hour now. but then she snuck under your beautifully trimmed hedges over there and at that point, i really was gonna forget about her but i can’t just do that, you know?” you ramble and he’s watching you with such an unreadable expression that your only option is to just continue embarrassing yourself, “so i jumped over your fence and scraped my hand and now she’s purring all over your fancy pajama pants and please don’t call the police on me.”

you really don’t know if his expression is one of pity or amusement or intense confusion but you do know that you’re ready to hit the deck when his tongue peeks out from his mouth, running along the top row of perfect, white teeth.

“right,” he says, his gaze roaming over your face, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

you hesitate, your mind a mess because look at this man in his matching pajama set.

“oh…and i- uh…what was your question again?”

his lips press together in a straight line, “who are you?” he asks, accentuating each of the words.

“oh, my name’s ___” you answer with a shy, awkward smile and then your gaze falls down to the cat between his legs. “and that’s luna,” you add.

he nods his head affirmingly, a thoughtful hum leaving his lips before his eyes fall to your hand.

“you said you scraped your hand?”

you flip your palm over and see a few tiny scrapes, the smallest hint of blood around the deepest one.

“oh yeah, but it’s fine, see” you say, holding your palm up at him to show him.

the scene plays over in your head, a smile tugging at your lips as you stare down at his hold on your finger.

“what’s that smile for?” 

his question rips you from the memory, smile turning shy as a blush creeps on your cheeks. “remember when i broke into your house?”

a low chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, remembering seeing a flash of pajama pants and slippers on his security camera bright and early that morning. 

“could never forget,” he mumbles, “and you messed up your hand even then.”

“but it’s never my fault!” you whine, your legs childishly moving and hitting into the cabinets below you. “that damn misogynistic cat and then the stupid paper.”

“i don’t think luna meant it that way,” he hums lowly. and for whatever stupid, embarrassing reason, your heart stutters at the fact he even remembers your cat’s name. how would he even remember that? you only talked about her that one time.

“i can’t believe you remember her name,” you mumble. 

and there are a lot of things he could say in that moment. like how could he possibly forget anything about you, about that first meeting, about the way you barreled into his life and turned him into the type of man who could complete fawn over a woman the first week he met her.

but he knows he can’t. no matter how much he wants too, he can’t.

“it was a nice name,” is all he lousily decides to say, gently wrapping a band-aid around your finger before, in a daring move, rubbing over your skin softly and looking up at you. “all good.”

you swallow nervously, suddenly feeling very trapped in this large bathroom under his gaze, his body right in front of you and almost caging you between his body and the mirror. 

“th-thank you,” you stutter out, an awkward chuckle leaving your mouth. “even though it was only a paper cut.”

“it could still hurt,” he mumbles to you, his eyes boring into yours and making your gaze immediately drop. you hate that you think there might be a double meaning in his words, that even if he didn’t mean it like that, you’re taking it like that and his effect on you still proves to be existent. 

“that’s true,” you mumble, a silence falling between you both for a few seconds. 

“wanna finish?” he eventually says, your eyes going back up to meet his. “think we were almost done anyway.”

you notice the tiredness in his eyes and frown, jumping down from the counter to look up at him. “seonghwa, if you’re tired we can just finish-”

“we’re almost done, y/n, i’m fine.”

you turn your head to look at him sternly, even though the chuckle that leaves him proves it looks anything but. 

“okay we’ll go in the living room, how ‘bout that? i’ll rest on the couch while we finish.”

and the works for the remainder of the evening, pulling out your laptops as you both make the powerpoint and giggle quietly at the show on in the background. you fling your hand back to smack him when you notice he snuck in horribly photoshopped picture of your teacher, his laughter then causing a horrible, hacking, coughing fit.

“oh my, god, seonghwa, you’re so not okay!”

“i am, i’m fine,” he grumbles, his low voice a nasally whine that only proves you’ve been overworking a sick man. 

“did you take medicine?” you ask, craning your neck back to see his head on a pillow, glassy tired eyes barely able to stay open now.

“i-i didn’t know what to take,” he mumbles. 

you roll your eyes, grumbling out “boys” before you tell him to not move. it takes you about ten minutes to finally find medicine in the monstrosity of a house, not knowing if his family were the type to keep such things in the kitchen or the bathroom.

but when you eventually do find it, organized neatly in the last bathroom counter, you get him a glass of water and two pills before rushing back into the living room. but then the sight of seonghwa sleeping in front of you causes your heart to pull.

his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, his handsome pale face and messy black hair sprawled across the pillow. you bend down in front of him, softly calling his name that only causes him to bury his face further into couch.

you let out a quiet sigh, looking out the window to see night has fallen and really not wanting to walk a good few miles home in the cold, darkness. you place the pills and water on the table before pulling out your phone as you make your way back into the kitchen.

“hey, baby,” yeosang’s voice says gruffly after the third ring. “what’s up?”

“would you be able to pick me up? i’m...i’m at seonghwa’s,” and that’s when it occurs to you, you had forgotten to tell your boyfriend about the slight change in plans; but the second your mouth opens again to explain it to him, he speaks. 

“sure, i’ll come now?”

“that’s good, yeah,” you say sweetly, your stomach knotting nervously for reasons completely unknown to you. “thank you, yeosang.”

“’course, love, i’ll be there in a few.”

you shake the nervous feeling from you, annoyed at your brain for getting overworked when nothing bad even happened. that it’s gonna have to get used to being around seonghwa and get over once and for all whatever happened in the past. 

but it’s easier said than done.

because then you walk back in and see him sleeping, eyes closed and body curled in his most vulnerable state and you can’t help the pout that makes it’s way on your face. because whether you want to admit it or not, boyfriend or not, he’s cute.

you rip a page from your notebook, writing seonghwa a little note before placing  the glass of water and the two pills on top of it. you pack your stuff up quietly, looking over to make sure you don’t wake him up when you zip your bag. 

and then, just in case he sleeps here for the night and the temperature drops further, you look around the room for a blanket that you eventually find stored in an ottoman. you lay it over the boy, the soft fabric covering him and smiling when he groans quietly in his sleep.

but your smile quickly falls when he says your name.

your eyes widen, body stilling as you look down at the boy. you don’t make a sound, don’t move a muscle, you’re not even sure if you take a breath before his body relaxes and he rolls over lazily. 

you let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat before your phone vibrates in your pocket. and it’s the sound of you leaving, the door closing shut and echoing in the large, empty house that makes seonghwa stir again. 

(but then the next morning he wakes, confused at first until he sees the little note you left for him on the table. “take these two pills with water when you wake up. i’ll do the rest of your slides, just rest okay? and ps: you snore in your sleep a little bit.” his heart tugs at the poorly drawn smiley face at the bottom, throwing himself back down on the couch to ignore the uncomfortable, sad feeling growing inside him). 

you get in yeosang’s car with a smile, greeting him softly as you close your door. you turn to see a slightly tense look on the boy’s face, already uncomfortable and nervous about this car ride.

“hi,” you say softly, “t-thank you again.”

his eyebrow raises at your stutter, assessing you up and down before he nods. “any particular reason you didn’t mention you were coming here?”

you shouldn’t be surprised your boyfriend cut right to the point but it still throws you off, immediately blurting out the entire scenario: from when san told you he was sick to deciding to bring him soup to do your work to forgetting to mention it because he already knew you were gonna be working with him and-

“can you relax,” he says, slight humor in his tone. “i was just asking.”

you let out a sigh, turning your body to face his and leaning back to rest you head on the cold window. he narrows his eyes at you before taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your skin and looking at the band-aid wrapped around your finger.

“what happened?”

“what?” you ask before following his gaze. “oh. i got a paper cut.”

a scoff leaves the boy, “he would clean and put a band-aid on a fucking paper cut,” yeosang grumbles, the words causing your whole body to stiffen. you hate that you’re acting so nervous and guilty but the awkwardness of this situation is just too much for you.

“is that why you’re acting like this?” he asks with a smirk. 

“acting like what?” you mumble, eyes dropping to your lap.

“like a nervous fucking wreck. i trust you, you know this, yeah?”

you can only nod like a child getting scolded. “and should i not?” he asks, his hand moving under your chin to lift your face. your brows furrow immediately, your heart panging with a hurtful ache as you look him in the eyes. 

“of course you should,” you say quietly. “i just...it’s a weird, awkward situation and it makes me....nervous, i guess.”

and whether it be because you feel bad for seonghwa or your feelings for him are buried somewhere deep inside, you’re unsure. you just know that, regardless of how your heart and body reacts to him, the way you feel for yeosang is different. 

stronger. more natural. so that has to count for something, right?

“i know, love,” he says, “but if you act guilty, i’m gonna think something else. you get that, right?”

“yeah, of course,” you say, “but nothing happened. it was actually...good. we kind of seemed like friends and he was actually talking to me like before.”

yeosang’s eyebrow raises, his hand tightening on you before your face brightens with realization. “not like that!” you whine, “i just meant like...friends. in a friendly way. a really nice friendship talk.”

a hint of smile tugs at his lips before he pulls you into him roughly, your lips crashing together and your smiles widening the deeper you make the kiss. and in a move just to show his dominance towards you, his hand wraps around the back of your neck as his tongue slips into your mouth.

your moan quietly fills the car, his fingers inching into your hair and tugging you back lightly. “that’s what i like to hear,” his deep voice says gruffly, “so quit acting sketchy and just relax, okay?”

“i know but i-” another tug on your hair is quick to silence you, the smirk on his face knowing all too well he just discovered another way to get you to behave.

“you guys are good and me and him are good. there’s no reason to be nervous.”

“okay,” you say, your flushed cheeks and wide eyes looking up at him. you feel his fingers in the base of your hair, his hand tugging experimentally followed shortly by your a sharp inhale. 

and it takes one breathy call of his name for the car to pull away from the curb, already knowing (and were secretly hoping the second his fingers fisted your hair) that you’d be taking a quick detour to his house. 

(part 24)

[koreaunderground]

(2021/04/09) New Revelations on Germ Warfare: It’s Time for a Reckoning with Our History from the Korean War

[counterpunch.org][1]

  [1]: <https://www.counterpunch.org/2021/04/09/new-revelations-on-germ-warfare-its-time-for-a-reckoning-with-our-history-from-the-korean-war/>

# New Revelations on Germ Warfare: It’s Time for a Reckoning with Our History from the Korean War - CounterPunch.org

by Jeffrey Kaye

9-11 minutes

* * *

_The New York Times, which for years has maintained that U.S. airmen’s statements about use of biological weapons during the Korean War were “false confessions” obtained by Chinese and North Korean torture, never acknowledged the following submission sent to its opinion section in November 2020. I am publishing the article instead at CounterPunch, which is not afraid of uncomfortable truths._

![A picture containing textDescription automatically generated][2]

  [2]: https://uziiw38pmyg1ai60732c4011-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/dropzone/2021/04/a-picture-containing-text-description-automatical.png

Screenshot from CIA pamphlet, “Baptism by Fire: CIA Analysis of the Korean War”.

It’s been 70 years since the beginning of the Korean War. For young adults in their twenties today, that’s ancient history. It is as distant to them as the 1905 Russo-Japanese War was to me when I was 20 years old! But in both China and North Korea, the memory of the Korean War and charges of war crimes against America from that war remain a vivid part of the national consciousness, stoked at various times by the regimes in charge.

The North Korean and Chinese allegations of American use of biological weapons during the Korean War made headlines at the time, and the controversy over U.S. Air Force officers admitting under enemy interrogation details of germ warfare attacks rocked the U.S. defense establishment. In 1998, scholars connected to the Cold War International History Project (CWIHP) at the Wilson Center published documents that they claimed showed the germ warfare charges were a hoax, “a grand piece of political theater,” as Milton Leitenberg, Senior Research Fellow at the Center for International and Security Studies at the University of Maryland, [notably put it][3].

  [3]: <https://diplomacy21-adelphi.wilsoncenter.org/publication/chinas-false-allegations-the-use-biological-weapons-the-united-states-during-the-korean>

![Text Description automatically generated with low confidence][4]

  [4]: https://uziiw38pmyg1ai60732c4011-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/dropzone/2021/04/text-description-automatically-generated-with-low.png

_From CIA document release, “Baptism by Fire,” File #_[ _1952-03-06a.pdf_][5]

  [5]: <http://web.archive.org/web/20170127160812/https://www.cia.gov/library/readingroom/docs/1952-03-06a.pdf>

But in 2010, the CIA declassified hundreds of communications intelligence, or COMINT, daily reports from the Korean War. U.S. historians have mostly ignored this release. Over the past few years, I have undertaken an examination of these documents and found more than two dozen that were pertinent to the biological warfare charges. As I demonstrated in a [September 2020 essay][6] on the topic at Medium.com, these [documents][7] vividly portray the reactions and responses of North Korean and Chinese military units responding to biological weapons attack.

  [6]: <https://jeff-kaye.medium.com/a-real-flood-of-bacteria-and-germs-communications-intelligence-and-charges-of-u-s-4decafdc762>   [7]: <https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/7207516-BW-COMINT-Baptism-Files.html>

What follows are some samples from the entire batch of reports. The grammar and syntax can seem off at times, as the U.S. military and CIA lacked experienced linguists during this period.

Relying on information from the codebreakers at the Armed Forces Security Agency, the predecessor of today’s National Security Agency, a top-secret March 6 CIA report read, “An unidentified Chinese Communist unit on 26 February reported that ‘yesterday it was discovered that in our bivouac area there was a real flood of bacteria and germs from a plane by the enemy. Please supply us immediately with an issue of DDT that we may combat this menace, stop the spread of this plague, and eliminate all bacteria.’”

Another CIA report stated that on 3 March a “North Korean coastal security unit in eastern Korea reported… that UN bacteriological warfare agents in the surrounding area had prevented the movement of transportation since 21 February. Later in the day the unit reported to Pyongyang that ‘Pupyong (just southwest of Hamhung)… is the contaminated area. According to the correct news, no one can pass through it. If you do not act quickly, the 12th and 13th guard stations will have fallen into starvation conditions.’” [Parenthesis in original]

Then we have the following from a 6 March report: “Two coastal security stations in northeastern Korea reported on 11 March that ‘the bacteria bomb classified as mosquito, fly, and flea were dispersed,’ and ‘an enemy plane dropped ants, fleas, mosquitos, flies and crickets.’” The emphasis on insects reminds us that the Communists alleged at the time that the U.S. was working secretly with the former scientists of Japan’s Unit 731, who experimented extensively with the use of insect vectors in germ warfare. During this period and for years afterward, the [U.S. falsely denied][8] that Japan’s scientists had committed war crimes and attacked China with biological weapons during World War II.

  [8]: <https://www.laguardia.edu/maus/files/ethics-ch-16.pdf>

According to a 21 March CIA COMINT report, “a North Korean message, probably from the 23rd Brigade in western Korea, reports the alleged dropping of bacteria in the area occupied by the ‘18th Regiment, 4th Division.’”

A 9 May report: ‘They dropped spiders and ants over Songjin city… today,’ a North Korean coastal security station in northeastern Korea reported…. The message continues that the alleged drop area has been isolated and is being investigated by ‘the plague prevention work committee.’”

Not all the reports verified the use of bacterial weapons. In a 25 March intercept from a North Korean battalion in the Hamhung area, a North Korean military sanitation officer, sent to affirm a supposed biological warfare attack “reported that the policeman’s report was false and that the flies ‘were not caused from bacterial weapon but from the fertilizers on the place.’” In other words, not only were the attacks not a hoax, but Communist officials examined such reports from the field on the spot and noted cases where the accusations were mistaken, or found in some cases that no insects carried infectious material.

As Milton Leitenberg stated in a [2016 essay][9], which otherwise maintained the germ war allegations were untrue, the charges themselves remain 70 years after the fact “an issue of great importance to those concerned with arms control and allegations of the use of Weapons of Mass Destruction.” He was right. This alleged war crime is of high importance, and achieving peace with nuclear-armed China and North Korea depends, in part, on being honest about past transgressions of the United States against those countries.

  [9]: <https://cissm.umd.edu/research-impact/publications/chinas-false-allegations-use-biological-weapons-united-states-during>

Both the alleged Soviet documents presented back in 1998 by Mr. Leitenberg and scholar Kathryn Weathersby, and also a later purported memoir by Chinese doctor Wu Zhili, which also [alleged falsification][10] of the BW evidence, cannot withstand the failure of those documents, whose provenance has always been obscure, to withstand independent corroboration by external sources of information, not least, from the CIA COMINT documents themselves.

  [10]: <https://www.questia.com/library/journal/1P3-3957054041/a-chinese-admission-of-false-korean-war-allegations>

The Leitenberg/Weathersby documents allege that Communist in-fighting over the BW “hoax” led to a cessation of Communist charges of germ warfare by early 1953. But that’s not true. The charges continued throughout 1953 (as this [_New York Times_][11]article described) and for long afterward. Even more telling, the CWIHP documents failed to tell a coherent story, moving around the date of the alleged falsification of BW attack sites from _before_ to then _after_ an international team of investigators arrived to examine the charges. The date is crucial because the time to organize a large-scale deception — one that would involve hundreds of eyewitness reports given to investigators, the collection of bomb fragments, the testing materials and samples from alleged bacterial attack, etc. — would take some time, if it could be successfully done at all.

  [11]: <https://www.nytimes.com/1953/09/08/archives/germ-war-confessions.html>

There were other problems with the CWIHP documents, which only document from two to four sites of simulated biowarfare attack. But two investigation commissions documented dozens of sites of infection following U.S. air drops of contaminated insects, feathers, and other materials. Neither Mr. Leitenberg nor Ms. Weathersby has ever explained that issue, except to surmise that there may be documents that have yet to surface. In any case, the old fraud accusations seem moot now that we have evidence of Communist military units during the Korean War responding privately to each other regarding the vicissitudes of biological weapons attack.

Wherever the long denials of U.S. use of biological weapons during the Korean War may have originated, and no matter what the authority behind them, the denials fade away in the face of new unassailable documentation from U.S. government records of germ warfare attacks against North Korean and Chinese military units. The question now is how will U.S. historians, political scientists, the press, and the public respond to this turnabout regarding the old germ war charges.

![A picture containing text, outdoor, signDescription automatically generated][12]

  [12]: https://uziiw38pmyg1ai60732c4011-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/dropzone/2021/04/a-picture-containing-text-outdoor-sign-descript.png

Screenshot from CIA pamphlet, “Baptism by Fire: CIA Analysis of the Korean War”.

The U.S. record regarding the acknowledgment of atrocities during the Korean War is poor. In January 2001, President Clinton did issue a statement expressing “regret” for American killings in July 1950 of hundreds of unarmed South Korean civilians at No Gun Ri. As the _New York Times_ [noted at the time][13], Clinton’s “statement fell short of the apology many Koreans have demanded.”

  [13]: <https://www.nytimes.com/2001/01/11/world/army-admits-giacutes-in-korea-killed-civilians.html>

It is time for a reckoning with our past. If we expect change in China and North Korea, then there must be change in the United States. Author Nicolson Baker has recently called for the declassification of all records from the Korean War. Perhaps a President Joe Biden administration will consider revising a policy that has not worked for decades, and as part of a general peace offensive in the region, finally admit American responsibility for its actions, including use of biological weapons. With such an admission, the U.S. could then call for a turning of the page and a new day of openness and peaceful coexistence in East Asia.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//this moment will just be another story someday

hi! based off this song. we have a bi reader because i wanted it soooo. and i know it’s the middle of march but i don’t care because i worked hard on this and i’m sad. ps, if that song finishes before you’ve read all of this (or if you just want to listen to something else), i suggest listening to this 

The 4th of July is supposed to be a happy holiday celebrated by most of the American population. Fireworks are enjoyed by families, barbecues are frequented by friends and carnivals come into town to be enjoyed by everyone. Everyone is happy to be celebrating their independence, even though they were awarded it years ago, and even though the majority of Americans don’t really have their independence, they just pretend they do. 

However, in the dingy bar that Steve is sat in, the 4th of July feels like a foreign holiday. The place is barely lit, the only light source coming from a few overhead lights and the occasional end of a cigarette. The few people scattered around the place look like they either did all the partying when they were about 40 years younger, or they’re too drunk to celebrate. In some cases its both. The fireworks outside sound more like gunshots to Steve as he nurses his drink that he’s been staring at for the past hour. Despite the hot July weather of San Francisco, Steve feels cold, a chill finding its way up his spine as he looks at the clock. 11:23pm...at least there’s not long left of this dreaded holiday. 

When he was younger he used to love July 4th. All his cousins would come visit him and for a day he wouldn’t feel so alone in that big house. His father would actually acknowledge his presence, showing off what little accomplishments he’d achieved over the year in order to make the other adults jealous. And his mom would always let him have a sparkler once the sun had set. Usually his dad had gone to bed by then so it would just be him and his mom in the back garden, drawing patterns and writing words into the night sky. 

However, after the events of last years 4th of July, he has a feeling he’s never going to enjoy it again. 

He sighs and downs the last of his drink, ordering another from the old man at the bar who’s watching out the only window in the whole place. He nods and gives him a re-fill before sitting back on his stool. 

Steve starts to think about what he’d be doing right now if last year had gone different. If there had never been Russians under the mall, if he hadn’t fought for his life yet again. Would he still be in Hawkins? Working with Robin? Babysitting the party despite their protests of how ‘We’re too old for a babysitter’ and ‘You can just say we’re your friends’. 

Would his father still be disappointed in him? Something he’s grown used to over the years. Or would he have gone to work for him to make him just a little prouder. Maybe if it weren’t for all this demogorgon shit, he might have actually got into a college. Wait...no he wouldn’t have. Like his father said ‘the only sad excuse you have for this mess is yourself’. 

Maybe his mother would still look at him like he was her son and not a stranger. Who knows. But he sure as hell knows he’s been a lot happier here the other 313 days he’s been finding a new life for himself in San Francisco.

313.

It hasn’t seemed that long until he’s thought about it. He lasted 52 days after the events of Starcourt before it got too much. Too much had happened in that small town. The people he cared about had been hurt. The people he didn’t, had know clue. Taking their little lives for granted. He needed to get out. So he sold the majority of his stuff, used the savings he’d been clever enough to hide (thanks to Robin), packed his bag and drove. He drove without looking back. Well, he did three times. 

First he went to see Robin. To of course say goodbye, to tell her to be safe and if she needed anything to call him. He’d managed to find a cramped apartment in a semi-decent neighborhood before he left, so he scribbled the number down on a leftover napkin she’d brought home one day after a shift at Scoops and he smiled at the irony of the situation. 

Second he went to see Dustin. His mom was not pleased about being woken up in the middle of the night but when she say the pleading in his eyes she let him in. Too nice to have refused him anyway. She liked Steve, he was a good influence of Dustin. Dustin walked out into the living room sleepily after being woken by his mom. He rubbed his eyes as he rounded the corner, although as soon as he saw Steve he was wide awake. Steve explained what he was doing and how sorry he was that he was leaving but of course he understood. Was he upset? Definitely. But did he understand? More than anyone. So Steve also scribbled his new number down and passed it to him, along with a can of Farrah Fawcett spray, and when Mrs Henderson wasn’t looking he slipped him his nailed baseball bat out of his duffel bag. 

The third place he went was a surprise to himself. He didn’t know he was going there until he found himself parked outside. Hawkins Cemetery. The gates were closed but you could always jump over the fence round the back, thats usually how the weird kids got in so they could drink and try to talk to the dead. He navigated his way through the dark and three years ago he would have been silently shitting himself, however after all the stuff he’d saw there was nothing that really scared him anymore. He walked for a few minutes before finding his destination. 

‘Barbara Holland. 

In memory of our beloved daughter. 

She will not be forgotten.’

Steve’s fingers traced over the top of the gravestone delicately. The cold stone doesn’t affect him as he seems to get lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t been the best person to her. Laughed at her behind her back. Made snide comments in front of her face. He’d been an ass to her. And then she died in his pool, when everyone else was too busy trying to keep their popularity. She’d been forgotten, taken to the upside down where she would have stayed forever. She deserved more than that. And she deserves more than this. He places a single purple Hyacinth on her grave before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. 

He’s almost out of the graveyard when he spots something out of the corner of his eyes. The grave is fresher than the others, and its smaller, shoved right in the corner of the yard and he already knows who it belongs to before he gets there. 

‘Billy Hargrove 

Son. Brother. Friend’

Its a stark difference to Barbs, and just the sight of it makes Steve chuckle bitterly. He remembers overhearing Max telling the rest of the party during the wake that her and Susan had to persuade Neil into putting something more on that just his name. Yeah, Billy was a dick, but he deserved better. He deserved the chance at redemption. To become a better person and to prove his father and everyone else in his life wrong. He picks a few daisies from beside the grave and places them delicately on top of the stone. “See you later Hargrove.” He mumbles and he swears he can hear him laughing somewhere in the distance before he returns to his car and starts the long drive. 

“A little lost there?” Its like he’s just been woken up from a fever dream. A minute ago he was sat alone at the bar, and now there’s a woman around his age with y/h/c and bright y/e/c, staring at him like he holds all the secrets of the universe. 

“Huh?” He blinks at her, and three years ago he would have cursed himself for such a lame openly line, especially to a girl this pretty. But right now, he could be talking to Phoebe Cates herself and he wouldn’t give a damn. He just wants to be left alone to be sad and wallow in self pity about how awfull his life has turned out. 

“You looked kinda lost in your thoughts. You okay?” The girl asks, placing a delicate hand on his arm. 

“Yeah.” He shrugs her off. “Fine.” 

“You sure?” She asks and hands him a napkin, he stares at her blankly and she pushes it further towards him. “You look like you’ve been crying.” 

“Oh.” He quickly takes it from her and dabs at his eyes before scrunching it up and shoving it in his pocket. “Thanks.” He glances at her and forces a half smile before looking back at his drink. 

“I see you’re quite the talker.” You tease and sit beside him. He huffs in annoyance, but it doesn’t really seem to dampen your mood. Instead you call for the barman and ask for a drink, as well as whatever your ‘chatty’ friend wants, which after a few seconds figures is him. “So?” You ask once your drinks have been placed in front of you. “Thanks Billy.” You smile and his head rises. “Oooo, now we’re getting somewhere!” You do a little excited wiggle as you sip your drink and he looks at you bored. “Okay, so you either are a Billy.” 

“Pfft.” He scoffs and your eyebrows raise. 

“Okay. So you know a Billy.” 

“Knew.” He corrects. “I knew a Billy.” 

“Oh.” You frown and think for a few seconds. “So, were you friends and you left? Because you don’t sound like you’re from here.” 

“We weren’t friends, but yes I did leave.” 

“Where are you from? Wait!” You shush him before he even has a chance to answer, your finger is over his lips and he’s staring at you annoyed, but you don’t seem to care. “Okay, say something.” 

“I can’t.” His voice is muffled and you smile awkwardly before removing your finger, wiping it on his shirt. 

“Now say something.” 

“I’m from Hawkins, Indiana.” 

“Well, not that. But okay.” You roll your eyes. “Hey, isn’t that were all that freaky shit went down.” 

“Yep.” He grumbles and downs the rest of his first drink. 

“Cool.” You shrug. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t quite catch but you decide to let it go. “So about this Billy guy? Friend? Lover?” Your voice gets quieter and he stares at you shocked. “Oh come on. You can tell me, this is San Francis-” 

“He’s dead.” 

“Oh.” 

“Happy now?” 

“Well, you see no. The death of people doesn’t really make me that happy. No matter if I knew them or not.” 

“Well sorry to disappoint you.” He huffs. 

“You know you can talk to me right?” 

“Why would I want to do that? You’re a complete stranger.” 

“Because sometimes talking to a stranger is the best thing. They don’t know you so they can’t judge you. All they can do is listen and sometimes give advice.” You reply and he stares at you stunned. “Plus, I have some time to kill, and I can’t imagine you have anything better to do, otherwise you wouldn’t be sat in here alone.” 

“Okay.” He nods. “I’m gonna tell you a story.” 

“Ooooo!” You grab your drink and get comfy. “What’s it about?” 

“A boy and a girl.” 

“Awwww.” 

“Not like that.” He cuts you off, effectively shutting you down. “Its kind or short, and kind of boring.” 

“Well, you’re really selling it.” You huff. “Is the ending at least good?” 

“Oh, its a whirl.” He replies and you can sense the sarcasm dripping off his statement. 

He stops for a moment to really think about what he’s going to do. He’s going to tell a complete stranger all the reasons he decided to move. He’s obviously not going to tell you everything, but still. And why was he being so mean? He’s tried for over three years to be a nice person, to get rid of the persona he carried around with him during high school, so why has it come back tonight? And why don’t you seem to care about how he’s treating you. And more importantly, who the hell are you? 

“Dude” You wave a hand in front of his face and he blinks before looking at you. “Your story?” 

“Oh, yeah. So they were just 16-ish, when I knew them. And people were so mean to both of them. The girl was bullied by assholes in school who had nothing better to do than bring people down to try and build themselves up.” 

“I hate people like that.” You spit.

“Yeah.” He nods, but refuses to make eye contact with you. “Me too.” 

“What about the boy? Who was mean to him? Was it the same people?” You ask, your eyes are wide with fear and Steve finds it quite endearing. He’s telling you about people you’ve never met before but you seem to care so much about them despite that. For all you know he could be making this shit up, but you still seem so invested. 

“No, the people, well person that was mean to him was closer to home.” 

“Who was it?” You lean towards him a little. 

“His dad.” 

“Dickhead.” 

“Yeahhh.” He agrees. 

“Well, what happened to them?” You ask. “Are they okay?” He almost doesn’t want to tell you. Or if he does, he wants to make up some bullshit about how they’re both happy, with people who love and appreciate them. Buts thats not how the world works, and maybe telling you that will be doing you a favour. You seem too happy. 

“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “They ended up not loving themselves, and now they’re gone.” 

“Gone how?” Your voice is quiet and unsure, and you’re not even sure you want to hear the answer. He looks at the sticky floor, taking a deep breath and he doesn’t even have to properly answer for you to know what he’s about to say. 

“Headstones on a lawn.” 

“Oh.” You sigh. “Did you know them well?” 

“Not as well as I should have.” There’s something else behind that statement. A huge amount of pain and grief is swirling behind his eyes, like a storm ready to destroy everything in its path. 

“What were their names?” 

“What will that do?” 

“They can’t be forgotten if people know their name. And I never forget a name...its my thing.” 

“Thats not a very good thing.” He replies and you see the hint of a smile hiding behind his frown. 

“Ouch.” You place a hand over your heart. “Whats your thing then? Wait!” You shush him again but this time he doesn’t seem to mind as much. “I bet in high school you did kegs!” You guess and he rolls his eyes. 

“Their names were Barbara Holland and Billy Hargrove.” He changes the subject and silence falls between the two of you. You vaguely recognized the names from the news. You remember your roommate saying something about knowing a girl called Heather that lived in the same town, apparently they’d been at summer camp once. They used to talk sometimes but after a while she stopped receiving letters. 

“Well, at least someone else knows about them. And I’m bound to tell someone about them. Like I said, I’m good with names...not so much keeping secrets so if you’ve met aliens or the bogeyman, don’t tell me.” You say, trying to lighten the mood and it seems to work a little. He chuckles softly and thats good enough for you, for now. “Anyway, that can’t be the end of the story.” 

“Why not?” He questions. 

“Because it was sad.” 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“All stories end happily. If not, it just means you’re not at the end yet.” 

“Sure.” He raises and eyebrow. “But, if you must know, no, I’m not at the end. But believe me, this doesn’t end happily for anyone.” 

“Well then its not over yet.” You say quickly making him roll his eyes before taking a swig of his drink. 

“Back at home I know a boy and a boy.” 

“Riiiight.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he smiles softly. He thinks Robin would like you, you’re sweet and accepting and everything he wishes he could have been back home. 

“They were best friends with each other. Still are actually, despite some difficulties. But I always thought that at least one of them wanted more. They loved each other but never knew it.” He lowers his voice, the two of you are leaning into each other, your forehead’s practically touching. “I think they were always afraid of what people would say. Or even what the other would say. And now one of them has moved to a different state.”  

Your frown deepens as you stare at the floor, your feet swinging against the stool as you play with your hands. 

”That sucks.” 

“I told you it wasn’t happy.” 

“Well, then you’re not at the end of your story. And they’re not at the end of theirs. Love always catches up with you eventually. Thats just the way of the universe.” 

“Sure it is.” He scoffs. 

“Come on. I want a sequel!” Your drum your fingers against the bar while he stares at you. “Billy! Another round please.” 

“You haven’t even finished that one.” Steve replies and you quirk your eyebrows, a smirk appearing on your face before you stare right at him and down the rest of your drink. 

“Happy now?” 

“Well, you see no not really, because I’m not carrying you home.” 

“You’d be so lucky.” You tease and he giggles a little. “Come on.” You poke his arm. 

“Fine.” He throws his hands up. “The sequel. This one is about me and my friend.” 

“Ooo, yay! I want to know more about you mystery boy.” The nickname causes Steve’s cheeks to heat up and he’s kind of glad Robin isn’t here to tease him. “Now, is this friend a girl?” You rest your chin in your hand and he sighs dramatically, already knowing where you’re going with this. 

“Yes. But not like that.” Now he’s the one shushing you making you stare at him surprised. “I’m not her type.” 

“Okay.” You hold your hands up in defeat and he lower his finger, letting it drop to the bar. 

“Both our parents were evil.” 

“How?” You ask.

“My dad says I’m his biggest disappointment and my mom looks straight through me.” 

“I’m sorry.” You place a hand on his arm but this time he doesn’t shrug it off, he lets you keep it there for a few seconds. 

“Its fine. They’re both kind of right.” 

“I’m sure thats not true.” You start to disagree but he talks over you instead. 

“And my friends parents don’t agree with her lifestyle if you know what I mean?” 

“Yeahh. I get that.” You nod, and now its his turn to try and decipher your look. He also prays he hasn’t attracted another lesbian, as much as he loves and supports Robin, he doesn’t need another factor to add into the thought that maybe he isn’t destined to be loved. “I play for both teams if you want to know.” You whisper and he nods. 

“Cool. Whats that like?” 

“Not any different to ‘normal’.” You reply and he chuckles. “So you and you’re friend? Quick question, is she cute?” 

“Yes, she’s cute. And for a time I may have liked her.” 

“Ha!” You snort loudly and a bright blush creeps up your neck. 

“Do you want to know the rest of my story?” 

“Yes.” You stifle your laughter. “Please, go on.” 

“So, both of our parents were mean, so we made a bet. And if we worked and saved we cold run away to somewhere like here and we’d have a better life.” 

“And?” You smile brightly at him. 

“And?” 

“Did that happen? Are you meeting her here?” You look around the dark bar. 

“No.” He shakes his head. “I left early and she’s still there.” 

“Oh.” You sigh. “I’m sorry. Is she going to be coming here soon though?” 

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Her parents are putting a lot of pressure on her to be everything but herself and sometimes I think she’s just going to give in. She’s been through so much and she’s so stubborn, but when I call her, she seems so broken and part of me thinks its because I left her alone.” 

“No.” You grab his hand. “Its not your fault. Listen, I don’t know her, and I don’t really know you but she’s going to be okay. She’s going to come to San Francisco...meet a cute girl.” You whisper the last bit and he smiles softly. “And you’re going to have a better life.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“Because, like I said. You’re story isn’t over yet. Its just beginning. Kind of like a movie, and eventually everyone gets their happy end. Everyone does.” 

“Again, how do you know that?” 

“I don’t, not really. But if you don’t have hope then what’s the point. Just you wait and see.” 

“You’re idea of the world and my idea of the world are very different from each other.” He sighs. “Its not funny or pretty or sweet. Its full of assholes and monsters and shitty things.” 

“Maybe.” You nod. “But I like to see the good in the world. You just have to see the good...” 

“Steve.” 

“And we finally have a name!” You cheer. “Keep looking for the good Steve. You’ll find it eventually.” 

I think I’ve already found a bit. 

“This isn’t the end of your story. For all you know it could be the beginning. Now, what time is it?” 

“11:55?” He replies and relief washes over him. He’s made it through and nothing bad has happened. Not to him at least. And when he gets home he’s going to call the party, and Robin and maybe even his parents to see if they’re okay. But right now you’re talking to him and he has to tune back into the real world. “What?” 

“Do you want a sparkler?” You repeat your previous question just as Billy hands you some change. He blinks at you and your roll your eyes playfully before saying bye and then dragging him out of the dingy bar and into the bright street. 

Its empty, everyone is either with friends or family, in back gardens or at events. It seems everyone in the entire world has someone to celebrate with, everyone except him, and then he remembers. He’s not alone. Because you’re looking at him, a soft smile on your lips as you hand him a sparkler. 

“I do this every year.” You explain and light the end of his before doing the same to your own. “I write something that has pissed me off in the past year, and then when it disappears, its like I’ve let it go. Metaphorically of course. Its kind of like a second go at New Years, because lets face it, nobody is keeping their resolutions.” 

“Has that ever worked.” 

“No completely. But there’s always time...like I said, it’s not the end of the story yet.”

And while he stares at you writing whatever in the air, with a bright smile on your face, for the first time in a long time there’s a spark of hope. 

He thinks there could actually be a day when he enjoys July 4th again.

[be-the-creature-fan]

The River by be-the-creatue-fan (Read my first story AIN'T NO TIME LIKE 1969 before reading this story)

Chapter 1

"Martin? What are you doing here again? Dr. Corvado was looking everywhere for you!"

Martin turned around to see who was talking to him.

"Mom?! What are you doing here?"

"It's a good thing that we've found you in time." Linda Kratt said as she grabbed Martin arm and took Martin away from the tomb stone.

"Mom, what are you doing? where are you taking me?"

She didn't say a single word and they both continued walking until they got to the parking lot. There stood an ambulance type vehicle with several doctors and police officers that ran towards him.

"Mom? MOM! What are you doing? what's going on!?"

Linda remained silent but her eyes were starting to water up as the doctors restrained him and shoved him into the back. One of the doctors looked very familiar, Martin looked at the name tag that was on the doctors shirt. Dr Corvado.

"Aviva! Oh man it's so good to see a familiar face!"

But Aviva didn't say a word, and ignored him. Martin being very confused still tried to talk to her, but with no luck.

"Aviva it's me Martin, Me, You, Chris, Koki and Jimmy would go around the world to rescue animals. you're a genius inventor and-"

"Smith! he's speaking crazy talk again, we should probably give him the shot now."

"Alright Corvado he's your patient."

"Wait what shot? Aviva you have to listen to me we were friends you have to beli-"

And just like that Martin was out cold.

Chapter 2

(Flashback to July 20th 1973)

It was what you would call a perfect summer day, the sun was shining, the sky was blue and excitement was still in the air. Chris had just celebrated his 4th birthday and he was still hyped about being another year older, but he was even more excited to go with Martin and his older sisters to the near by river at the place where the whole family camped.

"Bill are you sure Chris is old enough to go with them to that river?"

"Linda, of course he's old enough, they're going to the shallow part of the river, and plus I'll be close by incase the kids need anything."

"Oh alright, have fun you guys!"

As Bill, Martin, his sisters and Chris got closer to the river the more excited Chris became.

"Martin are we there yet?"

"It's going to be awhile until we get there, but don't worry we'll be in there in no time"

But Chris wasn't the most patient kid and decided to run ahead.

"Now Chris don't run to far ahead yah hear!" Bill called out.

"I won't!"

After a while of walking and running they finally made it to the river, only to find it flooded from the storm the night before.

"Welp, looks like we can't go swimming gang"

"WHAT!? But why Daddy?" Chris winned

"Well you see squirt, the river is over flooded, it's too dangerous to go swimming, but, it's not to dangerous to go berry picking" Bill said as he pointed towards some blackberry bushes. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Uh I guess" Chris said a little disappointed.

So Martin, his sisters and Chris started picking blackberries close to the river as Bill went fishing just up river not to far from them.

"Man it's hot outside, I'm gonna cool off in the river"

"But Martin, Daddy said to not go in the river because it's to dangerous" Chris said

"Yea, he said it was dangerous for you because your to little"

"I'm not too little, I just turned 4!"

"Yea, and I'm 7 almost 8, I'm technically a man, and I'm old enough to go into the river if I want to."

Chris didn't take that to kindly and wanted to prove that he wasn't the little kid that everybody thought he was. When no one was watching he decided that's when he would make his move to go into the river.

"Chris what are you doing?" Susan said (one of the twin sisters)

Chris didn't respond as he jumped into the river. Chris underestimated the depth and power of the river as he was swept away by the strong current.

"MARTIN! Chris jumped in the river!" "He's getting carried down river!"Both Christine and Susan screamed.

Martin turned around to see Chris's head pop out for a split second, before the current pulled it back down.

"Susan! Go and get Dad! Me and Christine will try to get Chris out!"

Susan ran to get Bill as Martin got out of the river because even he knew that the current was to strong for him.

"MARTIN! HELP ME! *GASP* MOMMA ,PAPA *GASP* SAVE ME!...... save me....." Chris's head went under again.

"CHRIS! NOOOOO!"

(A few hours later)

Mr and Mrs. Kratt, we've found your son's body down river and I regret to inform you that your son didn't make . We are so sorry for your lost. we need-....................................

Martin and his sisters were sitting inside the trailer, he could hear his mom screaming in agony, he looked out the window to see them both crying. That's when Martin knew, but that's not how it was happen, Chris didn't die, he couldn't have died, he didn't die, he didn't die, he didn't die!

(Back in Present day)

Martin woke up to find himself in what seemed to be some sort of jail cell.

"Martin, you awake?"

"Jimmy? Is that you?"

Chapter 3

"Jimmy! Oh my gosh I'm so glad you're here! Where is here anyways"

"We're in some sort of insane esylem, but that's all I know because HOW ON EARTH DID WE GET HERE!!!"

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Well, I was asleep in the Tortuga and the next thing I heard was sombody screaming and when I woke up I ended up here. I saw Aviva but for some reason she didn't respond, it was like she didn't recognize me"

"Wait do you remember Chris being alive?"

"Yea why wouldn't he be alive...unless. What happened while I was asleep?"

Martin explained what had happened to him, Chris's gravestone. the strange dream and how Aviva treated him on his way to the esylem.

"Oh my gosh...OH MY GOSH!"

"Jimmy what is it?"

"Its all wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen, when Chris went to the past, something happened that messed up the space time continuum."

"Well, how are we going to fix it?!"

"I-I don't know, its going to be hard to find the cause of how or what caused this to be our new reality. Time is very complicated stuff."

"Wait, how do you know about this stuff?"

"Martin, I don't just sleep, eat pizza and play video games all day. I usually subcaunsely listen to what Aviva and Koki talk about when it comes to complicated things like time trampolines and such."

"Oh"

"Hey Cell 37! SHUT UP!"

Martin and Jimmy turned to see one of the guards banging his fist on thier cell door. Then they saw the shadows of two other faceless figures before the door opened.

"I don't know how you escaped this time, but we'll make sure that it doesn't happen again yah hear?" The first person said

Martin and Jimmy were very confused as the 2nd figure walked in. Aviva walked in with a huge syringe. That was the last thing both Martin and Jimmy remembered.

Chapter 4

Martin and Jimmy were laying on their bunks. Numb, Cold, Afraid, their heads were pounding and they both were uncontrollable twitching. Martin's eyes began to water from the pain that he felt. Jimmy on the other hand felt anger and rage, his blood began to boil. Jimmy jumped from his bunk and ran to their cell door.

"YOU HEARTLESS SWINE!!! WE'RE NOT THE CRAZY ONES, YOU'RE THE CRAZY BIT-"

"Jimmy?" Martin said with a weak voice. "Was Chris ever alive? Or was I just crazy this whole time?"

"No, Martin, your not crazy, we're not crazy, Chris was alive. He was alive..."

The Next few days were rough for Jimmy and Martin as their hope began to dwindle. Martin kept having the same nightmares of his brother's death as well as having the same horrible dream of him just disappearing from existence like what he had originally witnessed, as the days passed it was getting harder to believe what was true. Jimmy was also going through a rough time. He still felt utterly betrayed by Aviva and missed Koki dearly.

"I wonder where Koki is?"

"Who knows." Martin said kind of miffed

"You know I loved her, right? I-I wanted to tell her how I felt...b-but I was always too chicken, a-and now I might never get the chance."

"Well sucks to be you. At least Koki might be alive somewhere, but guess what, Chris is dead and everyone thinks I'm a looney!"

Jimmy fell silent as he was to angry to say a word.

Weeks turned into months and not a word was spoken.

Until one day Martin overheard a conversation.

"I think I did it!"

"Did what Ms Corvado?"

"Well, for the past couple of years I've been working on a time machine and now I've think I've done it!"

"So she has been working on a time machine" Jimmy said kind of miffed.

"But what good would that do" Martin said feeling rather hopeless "it not like we can fix any of this, or can we..."

(Meanwhile with Chris)

Martin, that was the last thing Chris saw before he felt as if he was drowning. Fear was the last feeling that Chris had before he dissapeared into the abyss.

"Wh-Where am I?"

But the only response he got was an echo. His surroundings were white at first before becoming more clear. The first thing that came into focus was the green grass and the surrounding tombstones, soon more things came into focus he spotted Martin standing infront of one of the tombstones.

"Martin!" Chris yelled as he ran towards his brother to embrace him, but he went right through him.

Martin didn't hear him, he couldn't hear him, he couldn't feel him, Chris was nothing more than a soul.

(I'm putting this story on hold I am so sorry for leaving this on a cliff hanger I just need to think how I'm going to continue the story because honestly I ran out of ideas. Oop)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “For Science”

Hello everyone, and Happy 4th of July. I hope you are all doing well and having a great time. I wanted to get a few things out this week despite how busy things have been. Luckily my schedule frees up dramatically Friday of next week, so hopefully I will be able to write more. Hope you like it, and have a great day! 

Commander Vir stood at the helm of his ship hands clasped gently behind his back single eye staring outwards and into the blackness of space cold and focused. 

Well, perhaps not completely black. The Deep Space Galactic Penal Detention Center sat at the forefront of his vision. So deep in the vastness of space near nothing and no one, it was difficult to fathom the absolute isolation in which these prisoners existed. In all the galaxy it was most known for its miles and miles of maximum security isolation cells housing the GA’s most dangerous criminals, and only recently, for the housing of its most dangerous human prisoners.

Of course, General GA policy, supported by the UNSC, prohibited the use of solitary confinement on human subjects due to the severe and negative psychological effects it was proven to cause. And as a Rundi run prison, the rules and regulations were sure to be followed to the letter. However, even the UNSC and by extension the GA had to admit that there were a few human subjects too dangerous to subject even to other prisoners.

A soft set of footsteps cut into his thought process, and a looming figure paused at his back. 

He knew her without even having to look, and A dulled smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, and, as if in response he was rewarded with a soft hum. 

“This is hardly the place for humor.” He commented wryly turning  to face her. Sunny stood a few feet to his back half in and half out of shadow, her blue carapace gently kissed by the incoming ambient light form the view outside, “Something on your mind?” He wondered 

She shook her head and shrugged large golden eyes tilting to watch him more intently, “I was just thinking how far you've come.”

A raised eyebrow, “And what is that supposed to mean?” He wondered.

She stepped out of her pool of shadow and came to lean on the back of the captains chair staring out into the darkness. He couldn’t help but notice just how much her body language seemed to scream HUMAN these days, “Once upon a time you looked uncomfortable in that uniform, you weren’t sure you were ready to be commander.  And now look at you.” He allowed the smile to tug, again, wryly at the corners of his mouth as he walked to stand next to her, “Perhaps I’m just very good at faking.” His expression grew serious then, “Now my station means taking care of this Issue.” He nodded towards the unlit prison station.

Sunny thundered low in her throat causing his ribs and chest to rattle with the power, “How did he manage to do it?”

The commander shook his head slowly, “Honestly…. I have no idea.”

“Want me to get the marines ready?” 

“You read my mind. Tell the boys and girls to suit up for a full tactical breach, two teams inside with us, and two teams on the outside just in case. Get Cannon to take care of them. I want Krill and Conn with us on the entry.”

Another low hum, “Yes, sir.” 

“What?”

“Nothing, I like it when you get all authoritative on me.” She teased heading towards the door.

“Ah can it you big beetle.” He muttered softly, the same smile still playing over his face as she left.

***

“Approaching target 5 knots 45 degrees on entry, over.” Adam flew primarily by the ambient light of the universe tracking the other ships on his radar as they moved around to their positions. Sunny sat in the back with the marines watching as her human companions readied themselves for the boarding. Sunny wasn’t human, and so had never experienced the sensation that humans called ‘intuition’, but even she wasn’t clueless enough to miss that they were walking into a very serious situation.

The days following the capture of the infected starborn and the experimental human soldier had been characterized by a series of horrible realizations stacked one on top of the other. The starborn and the human experiment were connected somehow experimentally tampered with in such a way that gave the human near supernatural powers, and the ability to receive telepathic communication with the starborn receiving a horrible and crazed state of mind and a deteriorating body. 

She glanced to the side where Conn hovered towards the back of the troop transport exchanging insults with one of the marines.

Their investigation, and scattered memories gleaned from the humans broken mind, hinted at a possible connection between the human, the starborn, the cult, the protests, and the Tesraki earthquake. Their first assumption had brought them to a forgotten source of information: A Gib scientist who had been jailed towards the beginning of the Commander’s career for experimentation on humans, which generally lead to their eventual and horrible death at the hands of the scientist. 

They had originally planned on interviewing the scientist for his opinions on the kind of person that would attempt such a thing, but when they attempted to contact the prison, usually self sustaining, and without the requirements of food shipment or even equipment, they found that no one was responding. Further investigation showed that all the radio channels had been blocked.

Even worse was the knowledge that the prison was one of the most advanced ever built with the guards safety in mind. How a prisoner had managed to break through without alerting any number of warning systems was more than a mystery. When they checked fingerprint and facial recognition of the human against the prison databases, they found what they were looking for.

The situation really couldn’t have been worse. Someone was back at experimenting on humans, and even starborn, most everyone’s money was on the original Gib scientist, and if that was the case, he was locked in with a large supply of human prisoners to experiment on freely and without repercussion. Who knew how long he had been at it, and what he could have accomplished in that time frame.

“Approaching the docking bay, prepare to board.” Adam said from the pilot’s seat voice metallic and distorted lightly over the intercom. To her right, Krill slid his arms through the small black backpack, while one of his neighboring marines double checked the small motor in the back for its functioning. When Krill had joined them on previous outings he had admitted to being the slowest member of the party on his legs, and especially when he was inflated, so to  combat these issues, the engineering team had designed the small motor to propel him through the air when his helium sack was inflated. Of course one of the marines was still in charge of lugging a medical kit, but it was better than their earlier system.

Sunny listened to the rattle of the shuttle as it came to a light landing inside the docking bay. Vrul shielding technology allowed for a ship’s easy entry from the outside while also keeping the air pressure inside the ship. As the engines powered down, the marines, and sunny quickly flooded out onto the deck leveling their weapons towards the dark corners of the room. The second shuttle followed close after making landing on the distant side of the docking bay.

Sunny turned in a sharp slow circle her eyes scanning for waiting threats, which she expected to appear from the shadowy corners of the room at any moment. Due to the close-quarters nature of their mission, they had been forced to leave the mounted machine gun behind, and she had traded the bulk of the machine gun for the light maneuverability  her mother’s old war staff. Of course the decorative head at the end of the shaft could be used for slicing someone to ribbons in a pinch, but the real power came from the energy coils stacked one atop the other inside the interior of the staff, the discharge of which could be absolutely devastating at middling distances. 

The Drev had historically fought most of their wars in hand to hand combat, close quarters being the more HONORABLE way of fighting, but that hadn’t stopped them from developing greater weapons technology in their free time.

She finished her threat assessment of the room, and found nothing. But that in itself was a problem seeing as the docking bay should have been alive with engineers and employees, yet there was no one here, but the deep darkness of the waiting prison. 

The clatter of boots followed her silent inspection, as Adam came marching down the ramp wearing matching gear to the marines and carrying a matching weapon. Sunny was aware that Adam had originally trained as a fighter pilot, and had never been meant for ground combat, but the Drev war had changed most of that, and in the past few years he had taken it upon himself to have an at least more-than-passable ability in the field.

Even so, he kept at the back of the group allowing the more experienced marines, spearheaded by her, to lead them deeper into the dark. On the other side of the room, the second team of marines were doing the same.

Outside the circling shuttles were checking in.

Krill stuck to the back of the group next to the captain, Conn and the marine’s medic surprisingly silent despite the small motor which propelled him along.

They made it at first to two matching doors on either end of the long docking bay. The second team gave a thumbs up and each team stacked up on the doorway, while the lead marine stepped into place to input the provided security codes. They readied themselves for anything that was to come behind those doors, but found nothing but a long dark hallway stretching off into infinity in either direction. 

Two marines cut into the hallway glancing in either direction and clearing the space before ordering the others to follow. A designated two man team hung back to keep an eye on the docking bay as the rest of the group moved further into the ship. As the layout would have it, the hallway they were currently in would eventually take a ninety degree turn to the left or to the right, then again before meeting right back up with each other at the prisoner intake station. 

What they were currently seeing was simply the product of administrative offices and storage rooms.

The two teams of marines kept in close contact with each other as they moved down either hallway cutting around corners and clearing wrooms with the silent efficiency only humans were known to exhibit. Sunny did her best to emulate those same practices staying cautious as they moved forward into the blackness.

The life support was still on of course, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to breathe so easily. However, both the main lights and the backup lights had been mysterious shut off leaving them with only the beams of their rail-mounted flashlights to illuminate the way.

They took the next corner quietly alerted to the far end of the hall by the lights of the other marines. Nothing stood between them and their companions, so they kept their weapons low.

Sunny fell towards the back of the group, allowing the other marines to take point. If she was human, she was sure she would feel some uneasiness about their open back, so she kept an eye on the receding blackness behind them.

The two groups met in the middle just outside the open intake lobby. A single door to one side lead into, what appeared to be an observation room for the intake. Sunny stepped forward volunteering to go first as one of the marines opened the door for her. She swept in quickly and silently greeted by a cramped room, with a cramped desk and cramped chairs surrounded on all sides by cameras and other monitoring machines.

And nearly lit the entire place on fire when she saw the figure hunched in a corner. 

She leveled her weapon ready to cut through the thing with a bast of searing energy, but stopped immediately as her light cut over the figure…. A rundi corpse lifeless and staring, surrounded by a pool of discolored, dried brown bile.

She finished clearing the room before calling Krill in. He turned off his backpack and stepped inside walking over to examine the body. At the door Conn floated like a ghost head tilted as if he were listening.

One look by Adam, and the starborn shook its head.

The marines had now moved their way onto the intake floor weapons held at the low ready. Adam followed them slowly glancing around at the open stalls and discarded equipment which blocked their path. Krill stood, finishing his examination. 

And they were suddenly blinded by a searing white light. In the other room he could hear the humans cursing and calling to each other as they staggered to stay in place and adjust to the light. Sunny lifted her weapon ready to step through the door but was blocked by Conn in the last moments.

There was a metallic hiss, and the intake’s open end slammed shut. Sunny shoved Conn out of the way and ran to the closed doors slamming up against them as if she could break through, but to no avail. She ran  back into the observation room where Krill was watching hands pressed up against the glass. 

She slammed her staff against the viewing window, but despite her power it rebounded back towards her head.

The humans had backed themselves into a double wide circle. Those on the front knelt on the ground with those on the inner ring of the circle standing behind them and aiming over their heads. Adam stood behind one of the marines facing the direction they had originally been going.

The intercom buzzed loudly, and all weapons snapped to apprehend the sound.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up.” The marines looked at each other in confusion and shock while sunny frantically began pressing buttons and pulling on levers and slamming her staff against the glass.

“I was saying to myself, you know humans always show up to save the day. Probably the souls of theirs…. Isn’t that right, Deus.”

Adam slowly panned his weapon from one side to the other eyes narrowed in concentration, “So it is you, the Gib Scientist. The one who went mad experimenting on humans?” 

There was a scoff over the intercom, “Not mad. I was right, and people couldn’t accept that now could they.” There was a long pause, “Commander Adam Vir….. I WAS hoping that they would send you. Saw it in your eyes last time we met. Something special behind there, something powerful.” 

The man made no reaction to that statement other than to continue panning his weapon slowly, “Any other day I would be flattered, but today I am going to have to ask you to turn yourself in.”

The Gib let of a rather choked laugh somewhere between a squeaking and a trilling, “Now that wouldn’t be prudent commander, besides, if I did that, than what would be the point of gassing you. See it would be silly, you would all be sleeping, and I would be standing around waiting.”

“GET DOWN!” Sunny commanded stepping away from the glass and aiming down the shaft of her weapon.

In the other room, The humans had scattered like leaves on a high wind pulling anything they could find over their noses and mouths scrambling to cover the intake vents with whatever they could find. 

“I have been studying you humans for a very long time. I know all your weaknesses, I know all of your little quirks, so I think to myself, why bother fighting a human when you can knock them out remotely with chemical incapacitating agents.”

A burst of energy roced Sunny backwards shooting across the small space before crashing into the glass. The entire room shook, but the energy dissipated as if it had crashed into solid steel.

The humans were frantically calling information to each other faces covered. But sunny noticed how their movement grew lethargic, their bodies sagged.

At the other door Conn was waving to get her attention, but she ignored him as the voice came back over the com, “Do you like it, it's a little fentanyl derivation of mine that I cooked up. Of course, I wasn’t the first to think of it, I think it was originally the Russians, a human chemical derived for human incapacitant. But you know that's how you should deal with humans because the only ones that can truly handle humans are other humans.” 

Inside the rooms the marines were fighting to stay upright, but it was no use; the first to go down was one of the shorter female marines. She staggered once, and then spilled onto the floor her weapon clattering loudly against the tiles. Adam leaped forward to check on her kneeling next to her body. 

She was followed closely by two more marines who hit the floor with a dull thud. The others leaned heavily against the walls before sliding slowly to the floor.

“Of course, the last time this was use 15% of the people it was used on died. I really hope this batch gives me a higher survival percentage, but I can only hope.” 

“Why ... are you doing this.” Adam whispered head bobbing as he fought against the chemical.

“ADAM.” Sunny screamed 

He didn’t hear her as the voice above his head continued speaking, “Personally, I just want to continue my studies, but in order to pull this off I needed help, and their plans are a little more wide reaching. Conquering and destruction, you know that sort of thing. Of course, I don’t much care for it, but if all goes well, I get an endless supply of test subjects and they get dominion over the known galaxy. Oh, and don’t worry about your friends, the two in the docking bay were subdued without issue, and the two troop transports have been taken command of by my starborn friends.” 

So that’s why Conn had been trying to get her attention. 

Inside the room, Adam’s mouth opened to speak, but at the last moment his eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged downwards slumping over the body of the original fallen marine.

“ADAM!” 

[jelanisaeed]

Round 1: VS Venonat - Legends Part 1

Hello everyone, welcome to my story! This is the first book in a series I'm writing. Hopefully, it'll be finished the way I want it to be. I have a lot of plans to manipulate known facts and add my own into the fray as well.

Sorry, y'all! I didn't mean to fall off on writing this. I just got self-conscious. But I'm not going to let that get into the way anymore! I'm gonna stay on top of writing this!

Especially with this new writing style I've got! I've discovered I'm more a slice of life, mystery, fantasy type of writer. Not so much action like I originally tried. So, my chapters will be much shorter than before and will have great character interactions. I hope y'all like it this go around! And I promise I'll do better with staying on top of things!

I've made a lot of changes to the OG story, along with the previous version so I'll make sure to spot them out and let y'all know!

Oh, and quick disclaimer. I'm a black queer writer so all of my stories, including this one, will have characters who explore black and queer themes. I hope this creates a welcoming atmosphere for all to enjoy my stories and see a different perspective on pokemon and what it can be written about.

I also hope to inspire more black and queer writers to write stories on this site. The more the merrier!

Oh and I'm thinking about doing this thing where I tell y'all what music helped me write these chapters. It's a fun little thing. Mainly because music is a big part of my writing process so I thought it'd be fun to share with y'all!

So these three chapters were inspired by the Calling All Lovers album by Tamar Braxton! I love her voice and have been obsessed with her recently! She's always been one of my favs (#piscesgang) but this revisit to this gem just kept me going! I believe the song that helped a lot was Broken Record.

Special shoutout to Big Dummy by Cocoa Sarai (#piscesgang) as well! That song kept me motivated.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy it!

…

Pokémon Adventures: Turquoise, Jasper, & Ammolite

Round 1: VS Venonat – Legends Part 1

Location: Twinleaf Town Date: August 4th, 3000 Time: 8:45am

Legends. Paxton grew up on the grand tales of mystery and wonder. Weaved together by ancient people who desired to understand the world around them. From declarations of the universe’s creation to the birth of emotions. A legend existed for them all. And all found themselves scribed and stored in libraries across Sinnoh.

Once upon a time, he believed them. Sat amongst groups of budding trainers in awe as their teacher’s spun these tales. Admired the scholars who backed up these claims with beautifully dressed lies. Part of him wished he believed them. At least then he’d preserve the innocence he lost long ago.

Not that it mattered. Innocence didn’t make for a great travel companion. Clouded the mind and led even the best astray. Paxton knew he’d never succumb to it. Not again.

“Ain’t that right, Kiri?” his little formantis thrilled beside him. She fell in step beside him, having just defeated a wild bidoof. Annoying rodents with the worst aromas.

Under the morning sun, he kept moving. Summers in Sinnoh never made much sense. Despite the heat, a chilling breeze whisked by. Eastern winds—had to be from the lake. Still, a bit musty for his taste. He heard Lake Verity was a beautiful place filled with energetic, young pokémon. Perhaps just another well-crafted lie.

It doesn’t matter. Paxton shrugged and continued his path. He had his mission and pitstops didn’t fit the bill. Soon enough, he found himself inside Twinleaf Town. A cute little place filled with morning folks. They took to the streets with their pokémon and tended to their business. A few merchant stands set up with fresh produce and supplies.

“Pretty nice, huh?” Kiri agreed. She breathed in the fresh air and thrilled. Much better for her than Jubilife City.

Now, if any of them could point him in the right direction—

“I tell ya it’s true!” A youngster wailed to a crowd. Quite the sight, Paxton mused. Clothes tattered and caked with mud. His youthful tan marred with bruises and an odd burn across his forearm.

“There’s a monster in the lake! It attacked me and my nidoran!”

A monster in Lake Verity? Paxton frowned. Too farfetched for his taste. Powerful pokémon never lingered along the lakefront, so the merchants told him. The most dangerous any trainer encountered was a choleric gyarados!

There’s no such thing as monsters, he scoffed but got closer regardless. The kid had a story, no doubt about it. Perhaps it would prove to be a challenge for him.

Though his hopes weren’t high. Twinleaf Town hadn’t produced capable trainers in years—

“The boy speaks truth, if only misguided,” an elderly man took the boy’s side with a pleasant smile. Eyes narrowed with wisdom as leaned against his cane. “There’s always been a force protecting the lakefront. A guardian blessed by Lady Mesprit herself. It serves to protect the grounds from intruders.”

A guardian, the Paxton scoffed. Yet another well-dressed lie. And the crowd around him shared his thoughts if their whispers were any indication.

Clearly, the elder saw no reason to stop. He only adjusted his kimono and tapped his cane against the lush grass. A soft, melodic sound, yet it quieted the confused herd of people. Paxton whistled. Plenty of teachers killed for that superpower, especially on the last day of classes.

“Now, now,” The elder smiled, gingerly tapping the pokéball on his cane. “We all knew of the legend.”

The ball snapped open and released a pokémon before them all. A beautiful feline with glowing, white fur. The perfect contrast to its pitch-black skin and talons. Armed with a scythe-like tail and a crescent horn jutting from its forehead.

It glared at him with glowing red eyes. Eyes filled with frosty wisdom. Lingered on him, demanding something the trainer wasn’t prepared to give.

He flinched. Not his proudest moment. And the pokémon agreed, turning up its nose with a snarl.

“You feel it, Absol?” The man said in a graveled whisper. At once, the strange pokémon—absol, he supposed—growled. The elder stroked its forehead and locked eyes with the trainer. “Young man, what is your name.”

Part of him wanted nothing more than to flip the old geezer off. He hated unwanted attention. Yet the questioning gaze of the crowd made him shrink. Of course, that geezer had them wrapped up in his every word.

“Paxton,” he spoke softly, gathering Kiri closer for comfort. She glared and waved her arms for battle. “Paxton Lotus of Floaroma Town. This is my partner pokémon, Kiri the formantis.”

The geezer nodded with a strange smile. But Paxton couldn’t place why it disturbed him. “You all remember the legend,” the geezer spoke again. “A child blessed with verity. Discovered by the peaceful flower.” Paxton groaned. Of course, this had something to do with him. No wonder he didn’t trust the geezer. “Tell me, young one. What has brought you to his town?”

Easy. He had his mission. Deliver the package and report back to Professor Kapok. Nothing special. He did plenty of these over the weeks.

“To see the lake guardian with my own eyes,” Paxton spoke, but words felt foreign. “And start my journey with an adventure.”

“An adventure,” The man smiled. A knowing smile Paxton saw plentifully on Father’s face. “An adventure intertwined with the red strings. Yes, you certainly shall receive one. Follow me, please youngling.”

Something tells me I shoulda stayed in Floaroma Town

…

Suddenly, staying in Floaroma Town felt like the right move. Paxton sighed and ran a hand over his green coils. Lake Verity didn’t live up to the legends. No bustling pokémon or fairy spirits. Not even a spontaneous battle—though, Paxton yearned for it well. Just silence and a thick fog.

A strange fog at that. It hung over the trees until they caved to its weighed. Many bent at odd angles. Not even Eterna Forest looked so eerie. And that forest had far too many ghost-type pokémon.

“I hate this place,” Paxton shivered. The air seemed so cold and heavy. And each brush of air prickled his skin with sharpened icicles.

Paxton paused by a familiar tree. Passed it a few times now, he knew. No other tree had these strange cravings on the bark. Some language, he wagered. However, the letters seemed bizarre and had cycloptic eyes. Strange, yet they seemed familiar. As if he saw them in a dream before.

{Paxton…} a voice whispered on the wind. Eyes darted around, but Paxton couldn’t find the source. Yet the voice continued, whispering his name in an offbeat rhythm. {Paxton…}

Great, I’m loosin’ it! Paxton groaned. Yet the voice paid him no heed. Each whisper grew louder than the last with a pronounced echo. Mashed together with words until it jumbled into an incoherent mess. Pain shot through his mind and Paxton stumbled. Braced against the tree, he stared into the fog and froze.

A figure breached the fog. Pale as ice with messy coils and lifeless eyes. Naked yet the wisping streamers of the fog covered anything unsavory. The figure stared at him with shinning sky-blue eyes…and smiled. Giggled even!

Is that a ghost? Paxton swallowed. Spirits weren’t his forte. In fact, they freaked him out!

{Paxton…} the ghost spoke even though its lips never moved. It urged him to follow as it stepped back into the fog. {Paxton…}

…Hell. Against his better judgement, he followed it. Chased it through the shifting fog as Kiri appeared beside him in a burst of light. He needed her. If this ghost was anything like the kind in Kanto, then he couldn’t take any chances! Would’ve been a perfect time to find that guardian though.

Guardian…what if that ghost was the guardian? A chill ran down his spine. He hoped not. Dealing with the undead was Casper’s thing, not his! He had enough of ghost-type pokémon ever since he got lost in that busted down chateau!

Still, he put those thoughts aside and chased its faded form. Even as his lungs screamed at him to take a break. Or his legs struggled to keep up. He fought through it. And Paxton found himself in a clearing. Empty, yet devoid of the heavy fog. Just a soft breeze and lake water as it crashed against the ground.

The ghost turned to him and grinned. Eyes filled with mirth as it lifted off the ground and floated to the lake. Paxton followed and gazed in awe. The ghost danced above, swinging its arms. It spiralled through the morning skies and giggled. Soft and melodious as the soft waves rolling through. And with a grin, the ghost dove into the lake.

Glittering light erupted across the water. Engulfed the lake in a rainbow splendor.

For a moment, Paxton stared into the light. Entranced as thoughts raced through his mind. Feelings, long since buried, unearthed and flooded him in a sparkling array of light—

(Veno-NAT!)

Paxton didn’t realize he moved until the heat hit him. As he rolled along the soft grass, charred dirt sprinkled his skin. Ignited by flashes of green light. Something attacked him, but he couldn’t see anything in the grass. Just rustling as the breeze blew through—

(NAT!)

This time, Paxton was ready. He lunged away as streaks of light smashed into the ground. Unharmed except for the light scarps. Good enough for Kiri as she dashed into the fight. She weaved through the streaks of light and unleashed a spiral of glowing leaves into the tall grass. Trimmed grass fluttered through the air, but the rustled told him all he needed to know.

“Kiri, widen your range and trim the grass! Razor Leaf!”

Sharpened leaves ripped through the air and trimmed the tall grass. Amongst the fallen leaves, he caught a glimpse of the assailant. Purple for sure…and were those clodhopper feet?

The creature paused in the epicenter of the field. And…it had to be the ugliest thing Paxton ever saw. Thick, disheveled purple fur mashed with giant, red eyes, stubby paws and insect features. Poor thing. Nobody’d ever train something so hideous.

This must be the monster. Paxton frowned. Ugly or not, he had to get rid of it.

“Kiri, time to water the garden.” Kiri rushed it and slashed it across the chest. The bug cried out, but Kiri didn’t stop there. She slashed and slashed, drawing pained buzzes from the creature. Now that Kiri had a target, that bug didn’t have a chance.

“That’s it! Fury Cutter!”

Once Fury Cutter went to work, it didn’t matter what pokémon Kiri faced. Each slash gained greater strength than the last. A nasty move for sure but made pokémon battles so much easier. The bug stumbled away from a slash and hopped away. But Kiri raced after it, unleashing more spiraling leaves to smash into its back.

“Finish it, Kiri! Leaf—”

Kiri cried out, low and mangled, as she fell forward! Her blades held her up, but she gasped for air.

But how?! Paxton watched in horror as the air rippled and smashed into Kiri, blowing her back. He lunged for her. Caught her just before she crashed. And when he pulled her close, he found streaks of purple staining her green skin. Poison?

(Nat?) The bug hopped over. Body tensed as green light oozed underneath its messy fur. Paxton dipped a hand to his belt. He had the perfect pokémon for this ugly—

“Motha,” A calm, melodious voice washed over the field. And the beast paused. “That’s enough.”

The beast hobbled over to the lake with a certain bounce that Paxton didn’t appreciate.

“That’s enough fighting, please,” the same voice spoke again. And a trainer climbed out of the crystal waters. Clad in only a pair of black briefs decorated with bugs and bubbles. His soaked black coils hung over his eyes, dripping water down his toned hazelnut body. When he finally moved the coiled curtains, Paxton caught sight of sky-blue eyes.

Just like that ghost.

But…his looked so shattered.

“Who are you?” He spoke again with that same melodious quality. Only this time, there was a noticeable edge. Like a cliff blocking a powerful wave. “What are you doing in Lake Verity?”

Paxton scowled. Figures the monster had a trainer. It fought too well to be wild. But it didn’t make sense. Why attack? Paxton shook his head.

“My name is Paxton—Paxton Lotus of Floaroma Town,” he gulped. His heart pounded against his chest. “I’m here to defeat the monster in Lake Verity. That you, ain’t it?”

The trainer paused. And his eyes darkened with flecks of gray.

“I am the guardian of Lake Verity,” he began slowly as a storm brewed behind his lips. “My name is Turquoise. Turquoise Yukule.”

…

How did y'all like that chapter? It took some time to perfect, but I loved the twist it took! I'm happy with it.

Paxton's a new character I made. Lowkey based him off of a mix of the Aroma Lady and Gardener Trainer Classes. I'm starting to really fuse Trainer Classes for some reason and I love it lol

And yay, Turquoise is back! He's literally my favorite little bubble of sunshine. I love his character and did some changes to him too. I'll let y'all know his Trainer Class next chapter!

But I'd to hear from y'all. Feel free to leave a review or PM me. I'd love to hear your feedback. And I'll do my best to respond to all reviews as well!

[language-of-love]

holding hands with your heart...

This is the 4th installment of my sweater weather series, fall fics from prompts sent in by my followers. I worked in two prompts for this one, blankets (submitted by @jessx2231) & flannel (submitted by @al-ex-an-d-er-hamiltons). This one’s rated E and has very little plot, outside of tipsy fiances and morning sex. It’s 85 degrees on the 2nd day of summer, so I had to bring the heat. ;) (Rated E, 2700 words, AO3)

🍂

Summer is kicking and screaming like a petulant child who doesn’t want to leave the party, keeping daytime temperatures just high enough to be annoying even as its end is supposed to have come. Autumn, however, is coming in like an overly patient parent, cooling things off as soon as the sun begins to go down, giving relief and a hint of what’s maybe a week or so away. The air tonight is just chilly enough to make David’s customary sweater make sense and Patrick wish for one of his own, thankful for the heat in his cheeks brought on by the copious amounts of wine they’d indulged themselves in at dinner.

He blames Stevie, and Alexis, and even Ted on FaceTime from the Galapagos, as the three of them had regaled the group with all of the times they’d each walked in on or spied David and Patrick making out in the early weeks of their relationship. The embarrassment had been palpable and alcohol had been necessary, especially when Twyla turned up out of nowhere with a story Patrick had never heard, not at all aware that she had seen him and David steaming up the back of the Rose family car out on what they’d thought was a deserted country road, but apparently led to Twyla’s third cousin’s boyfriend’s motor home. What can they say, privacy was a luxury back then and they’d tried, unsuccessfully, to get creative.

Thankfully, times have changed and they have Patrick’s apartment, which David is currently also calling home now that they are engaged. They have plans to find a new place eventually, but for the time being, it’s been a perfect oasis and more than enough.

David leans into Patrick’s side as they continue their short walk home and Patrick almost stumbles, realizing absentmindedly just how tipsy he actually is.

“Somebody’s drunk,” David teases, his syllables drawn out just enough to give away that maybe he’s not faring all that well either.

“If you told me there was a bit of moonshine in the house red at the cafe, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m definitely a little wobbly,” he admits, gripping David’s elbow for balance as they get to the front door of the apartment building.

David closes his arm to trap Patrick’s hand there and shoots him a quick smile, quickly looking back at his feet as they start the slow trek to the third floor. One of them, probably Patrick, loses their balance halfway up and they both stumble into the wall, dissolving into a fit of giggles that doesn’t let up until they’ve reached their front door.

Patrick steps in close, body heavy on David’s against the doorframe as he tries to kiss him, but David’s laughing too hard and Patrick just ends up pressing a smile against his cheek. It hits him just how much fun being in love with David is, how different it’s turned out to be than he’d had the capacity to imagine. He really hopes Rachel has found someone, someone who makes her as happy as he is now. Man, he must be drunk if his thoughts are this all over the place.

As soon as they’re in the door, that thing happens to them both where you’ve been drinking for hours but it’s only when you are in the proximity of a bathroom do you realize just how much you have to pee. David makes it there first, leaving Patrick dancing and half contemplating relieving himself in the kitchen sink. Thankfully, David finishes just before that decision can be fully realized and Patrick takes his turn at the toilet, feeling flushed and out of focus and suddenly regretting that last glass of wine. After washing his hands, he splashes cold water on his face and takes a few deep breaths, quickly grabbing the bottle of Tylenol from the cabinet to take out to David.

He finds him in the kitchen filling a large glass with water and Patrick smiles, loving how in sync they’ve become, how easily they anticipate each other’s moves. Popping open the bottle, he counts out four caplets, handing two to David who takes them with a healthy amount of water. Patrick does the same and they stand there for a minute or two, passing the water back and forth until the glass is empty and David’s hands begin to pull at Patrick’s waist. Patrick sighs contentedly as David’s mouth finds his, kissing him lazily with wine-stained lips.

David tends to get even more tactile the more he drinks, while Patrick gets sleepy, which eventually finds them in their pajamas cuddling under the blankets that have grown in number the colder the evenings have become. Patrick gets hot when he sleeps, so he’s taken to just wearing pajama pants or boxers, while David is wrapped up in warm flannel, black and midnight blue patterned, a gift from Patrick’s parents left for him on the end of Patrick’s childhood bed the first time David had come home with him for a visit. Patrick’s heart still skips a beat seeing David wear them, knowing the love and welcome his mother had obviously been trying to convey with the gift.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” David asks with reddened cheeks, making Patrick realize that he had, in fact, been staring at David with what was probably a seriously lovestruck expression.

Rolling further onto his side, Patrick slides his leg between David’s and rests his forearm on David’s chest so he can smile down at the man he loves.

“Because I love you. Is that okay?”

David bites down on his bottom lip and playfully rolls his eyes, but reaches down to run his fingers along the side of Patrick’s hair, making Patrick arch into his touch like a kitten getting a scratch.

“If you insist, I guess I’ll allow it,” David preens, smile widening as Patrick turns his head and catches his palm with a kiss.

“We really are ridiculous, no wonder our friends made fun of us all night.”

Patrick laughs into David’s palm and turns back to look down at him, nodding in agreement before tucking himself in under David’s chin. Patrick feels a cloud of blankets surround him as David fluffs the cotton and cocoons them both in before his arms come around Patrick’s back to hold him close. David begins to ramble about the mortifying dinner conversation and Patrick does his best to listen, but he can feel himself drifting to sleep and kisses David’s sternum just once before slumber pulls him under.

~~~~~~~

A tiny dribble of toothpaste hits the sink as Patrick smiles at his reflection, having woken up today surprisingly hangover free and feeling like a balloon filled to bursting with happiness. And there’s nothing particularly special about today, which just makes Patrick smile wider. He’s just...happy. He won’t even allow his mind to wander back to a time where even the notion of how he feels now would have been considered fanciful, because all he wants to do is live in this moment, with David, who he can hear padding around the kitchen making his coffee.

Back in the bedroom, he goes to pick up his phone, but stops, deciding he doesn’t really need to check anything, not yet. His fingers reach further back on the shelf to rub along the velvet box next to their wallets, the ring inside the same tone of gold as David’s four engagement rings, just waiting for the day where Patrick will finally put it on. Or, more accurately, when David will slide it onto Patrick’s finger as they promise each other forever.

David is suddenly behind him, the slide of the flannel on his arms soft on Patrick’s bare belly as he pulls Patrick back into his chest and kisses the side of his neck.

“I made you some tea,” he mumbles against Patrick’s skin, raising Patrick’s body temperature a few degrees as each word is spoken. “Ray dropped it by the store the other day. It’s a pumpkin chai that he mentioned you’d enjoyed. His family sent him a fresh batch from home and he wanted you to have some.”

Patrick’s heart constricts a little at Ray’s thoughtfulness. “How sweet of him, I’ll have to swing by his office this week to say thank you.”

“Mmmhmmm…” is all David says in reply as he draws Patrick’s earlobe between his teeth and gives it a playful tug. A shiver of awareness streaks down Patrick’s neck and he leans his body further into David’s, running his right hand down David’s arm towards his wrist. The flannel, soft as it is, is a barrier to Patrick getting hold of David’s skin and he’s suddenly in urgent need of contact. Interlocking his fingers between David’s over his belly, he turns his head, the movement pulling David’s mouth from around Patrick’s ear. It’s not an easy position, but David helps, leaning around Patrick’s shoulder to meet Patrick’s mouth in a wet kiss. Patrick’s already turning in David’s arms before he feels those strong hands urging his hips to shift and soft fingers slide just beneath the back of his sleep pants as he’s dragged up against David’s chest.

It’s a perfect kiss. Mouths hot and active, David’s cupid’s bow slick from Patrick’s tongue and Patrick’s lower lip swelling just slightly as David lets its slide between his teeth. They’re both panting and searching for breath, but stopping the kiss isn’t an option, so they suck in air together before diving back in and stealing the breath they’d both taken right back. Patrick’s entire body feels alive, his fingertips almost numb as he begins to fumble with the buttons of David’s sleep shirt.

Releasing David’s mouth, Patrick buries his face into the side of David’s neck, teeth and tongue worrying the soft skin there as his needs begin to tumble from his mouth.

“You mind waiting for your coffee a bit longer? I really need to get you naked.”

Patrick can feel David’s chuckle vibrate against his lips and he smiles into David’s throat, fingers sliding open another button as he illustrates his point.

“I mean, I was pretty excited to try that new cinnamon roll flavored creamer I bought, but I suppose that can wait.” David punctuates his banter with a firm squeeze of Patrick’s ass inside his pants, pulling a groan up from Patrick’s lungs to go along with his laughter.

He pulls back from kissing David’s throat to press his lips into David’s crooked smile, sliding his palms into David’s open shirt to brush over his nipples. He slips his tongue past David’s lips as his mouth falls open at the sensitive touch, the heat building between them near boiling as the kiss gets serious. As Patrick draws David’s tongue into his mouth, he begins to suck, mimicking exactly what he wants to do with another, more sensitive part of David’s body, as he tugs David’s partially unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders towards his waist. David groans and pulls his mouth free of Patrick’s and Patrick can see the want, his chocolate brown eyes near black as he steps back just a bit and frees himself from his own shirt and leans down to shuck off his flannel sleep pants. Patrick is awestruck for a moment, just taking in his man’s beauty, all long limbs and chest hair, cock swollen with arousal and begging to be tasted.

Before Patrick can drop to his knees, David walks backwards towards the bed, his ringed fingers taking his cock in hand and giving it a squeeze as his knees hit the mattress and he sits. Patrick hooks his fingers into his pants and drops them to the floor, nearly tripping over them in his haste to get to David who has pushed himself back and is spread out like the most delicious of presents just waiting to be savored.

Crawling up over David on the mattress, Patrick’s eyes close of their own volition as sensitive parts of his body brush parts of David’s, making his breath catch at the pleasure and anticipation of what’s to come.

Bringing his nose to the side of David’s, he whispers, “Hi”, before fluttering a soft kiss to David’s lips, too worked up to kiss him with all the passion swirling in his belly as he knows that will bring a premature end what has just barely begun. David’s hands grab at Patrick’s neck as he pulls back in protest, but Patrick just smiles and shakes his head, dropping a quick kiss to David’s jaw before sliding further down. Patrick buries his face into David’s chest, licking and worshipping as he slowly makes his way towards his navel. He loves how the soft wisps of David’s hair tickle his nose as he swirls his tongue along his belly, the taste of David’s skin so familiar, so full of soft, passionate and sometimes frantic memories he plans to build on for a lifetime to come.

David’s hand is suddenly cupping Patrick’s face, his thumb pressing into the corner of Patrick’s mouth as David smiles down at him with pleading, heavy-lidded eyes. Patrick turns his head enough to draw David’s thumb into his mouth, eyes hot on David’s as he runs the flat of his tongue across his skin. David moans and Patrick smiles, letting David’s thumb pull from his mouth as he moves down between David’s legs, his breath going heavy as he finally gets to where he wants to be. As he takes David’s cock into his mouth, he looks up, seeing David’s hand outstretched and waiting to be held. It’s everything he wants and he lifts his fingers, moaning around David at the first brush of the cold metal of his rings against Patrick’s overwarm skin. He takes care of David slowly, burying his nose against his belly as he takes him in as far as he can, swallowing and licking, his free hand working in tandem with his mouth until David comes, Patrick’s name a broken plea as his hips dive into the mattress and his fingernails press crescent moons into the back of Patrick’s hand.

Patrick’s so close from bringing David’s release that he’s desperate for David’s touch, quickly moving their joined hands between his legs as he crawls up the bed to kiss David’s still panting mouth. At the first touch of David’s hand around him, he cries out against David’s lips, the breath in his lungs constricted by emotion and need. He’s spilling into David’s hand mere seconds later, his orgasm so strong his back arches, trapping David’s hand between their bellies before he collapses inelegantly onto David’s chest. David holds him close, not caring about the mess as he wraps him in his arms and draws Patrick into a breathy kiss. As Patrick’s muscles relax, he gives in to the moment, letting the soft urging of David’s lips draw him in, the slide of their tongues a promise of what’s yet to come. He knows immediately that the rest of their day will be spent in this bed, after they both get some caffeine, mapping each other’s skin and making promises their bodies are only able to convey.

David pulls back first and his head falls into the cloud of blankets still piled up beneath him from the night before.

“I’m so glad we have a bed to do this in now,” David’s declares, slightly breathless as he reaches over to the nightstand for a tissue to wipe off his hand.

Patrick chuckles before leaning in to nibble lightly at David’s jaw. “Agreed. I don’t even want to think about what Twyla might have seen that night, because I’m pretty sure…”

Oh, I definitely remember.” David’s hands are on Patrick’s waist suddenly and Patrick finds himself being lifted off David’s chest and moved to the side. Patrick’s eyes widen in confusion at being manhandled, but then David is leaning over and whispering in his ear.

“Get on your stomach. I think you might need a refresher…”

He doesn’t, because that night is permanently tattooed on his brain as life-changing, but he rolls onto his stomach without protest anyway. As David’s lips move from the nape of his neck down towards his spine, Patrick clenches the blanket beneath him into his fists, ready and more than willing to take his reminder.

[likeshipsonthesea]

"I could never forget you" with the ship of your choice?

thank you so much for the prompt! 89. “I could never forget you.” and I know i’m trying to branch out with ships, but this just SCREAMS nurseydex for me, so let’s go

(after note: this turned into a lot more than i thought it was going to be, enjoy the ride my dudes. also: kind of want to write a sequel? hmu if you want it)

[edit: there is now a sequel!]

Late spring, a handful of days before graduation, Dex sits on the floor of his old room and helps Nursey box up his things.

Dex finished packing up his own stuff the night before and there isn’t much else to do around the Haus, empty as it is. All the underclassmen are studying. Dex’s exams are over, final papers handed in. It’s a strange contradiction, to have the endless weight of deadlines lifted, only for the prospective life unfurling in front of him to take its place.

Wanting to get out of his own head, he offered to help Nursey pack. Nursey, blinking up at him from the floor, surrounded by half-empty boxes and the remnants of their four years here, nodded without fanfare. A year ago, maybe, he would have refused, but here in this softly warm Haus, at the end, they are none of the inflammatory things they once were.

They work in silence, save for their movements.The stretch of masking tape being ripped from the roll, the soft shuffling offabric-bound books bumping up against one another. The open window filters inthe barest hints of music from one of the other frats along with a coolbreeze.

A sweet, refreshing burst gusts across the back of Dex’s neck justas Nursey says, “When are you leaving?”

Dex glances over at Nursey, on his second box of books now, butNursey isn’t looking his way or emoting in any obvious way. Dex looks back atthe sweaters in his hands. “Day after graduation.”

“Ah.” A beat or two. “Me too.”

Dex knows this. Dex knows that Nursey is going back to New YorkCity the day after graduation to live in a small apartment his parents are helpinghim pay for until he starts his job at the fancy publishing house. By the timeJune starts, Nursey will be the kind of New York writer they make TV showsabout, with cool, interesting friends who read the same kinds of books and careabout all the same things. Dex has imagined it, on and off, for months, andright now he’s in one of those phases where he’s wistfully happy about it.

Nursey will have a good life, Dex thinks. He doesn’t know whatelse he could ask for, reasonably. Despite the ache in his chest, Dex isgrateful.

Nursey coughs and Dex blinks out of his mind. “C was talkingabout getting together for July 4th or something,” he says, in that blasé tonehe thinks makes him sound chill but only really serves to highlight hisnervousness. “You know,” he continues, laughing, short, “if youhaven’t forgotten about us by then.”

It comes reflexively, innately. “I could never forget you.”

It’s more than he’d meant to say, which his quickly beating heart realizes after only a moment. He’d been planning on going through the end quietly, peacefully. After dreading it for four years, he’s made his peace with the prospect of Samwell ending, his new life beginning.

It was easier, of course, after he decided he wouldn’t be going back to Maine.

Dex coughs and looks back down at the sweaters. “I mean, how could I?” he says, scratchy voice reaching for a chirp. “I’ll be having nightmares about your pretentiousness for decades.”

Dex’s knows that Nursey can see through it. It would be a miracle if he couldn’t, after the past year. Living in separate rooms helped ease the tension, and Dex having the C and Nursey with the A– more of a second captain than anything else– it would have been impossible for them to not learn how to work with each other, finally. But in the presence of finality, with Chowder getting serious about the NHL, Caitlin, life– well, somehow clinging to Samwell became clinging to Nursey and, even more miraculous, in their shared struggle they finally found a way not to drown.

“Dex,” Nursey says, and his voice is too soft for all the things floating about them, the unanswered questions, the ones too deadly to ask, all the things they never said and probably won’t, now. Dex can feel it all, bittersweet, in the back of his mouth, heavy.

He is grateful, oh is he grateful, to have even had the chance to taste.

“Fourth of July sounds great,” Dex says, and wonders if he should tell Nursey about the job in New York he said yes to yesterday, that he was going to be there, anyway, that they could see each other any time– but no. He’d made the decision not to say anything when he was alone, saner, and he shouldn’t go back on it now because they’re sitting in the middle of their fractured lives and desperately grabbing all the pieces they can.

In a few months, Dex thinks, he’ll tell Nursey. If he still wants to see him after he’s gotten the life he deserves, then– maybe then– Dex can let himself have it.

“If C has gotten over the shock of actually being on the Sharks, then maybe,” Dex says, and it’s awkward, both in his mouth and hanging in the air afterwards, but Nursey let’s him have it, adds in a clearer chirp about the influx of Instagram pics, and Dex returns with a crack about Chowder being the arm-candy for Farmer at all the events they’ll have to go to.

Outside, it starts to rain, just a bit of a drizzle but enough to turn the air heavy with it. They pack up boxes, tape them shut. Dex helps Nursey carry them downstairs so it’ll be easier for him to transfer them to his parents’ car when they come down.

“Thanks for your help, Dex,” Nursey says, when the last box is down.

It feels– right, somehow, that Nursey should use Dex’s real name. 

Real, Dex means, in how William itched at his skin by middle school, when he realized the person his family wanted him to be was unattainable, in how Cap was a way for his teammates to distance themselves from the quietly broken captain they only knew how to respect in the iciness of a rink. 

Real only happened here, when the person under the name was yet unknown and the place allowed him to figured it out, unfurl it one petal at a time, and welcomed each autumn that came when the dead weight was shed, allowed the seasons to pass, allowed the person to change while still calling it the same name.

And yes, he thinks, staring at Nursey’s tired, easy smile, yes it is coming to an end, but that is the nature of it, of things, and it will not be the real end, truly.

“Thank you,” Dex says, nonsensically, and Nursey quirks his eyebrows a little but keeps on smiling.

The rain stops and Dex thinks about going outside to take in the world, washed anew.

“Want to make a pie?” Nursey asks, unexpected, self-awareness in the brightness of his eyes. Dex remembers walking into the Haus for the first time to the smell of flaky, warm pastries, and reminding himself again that this was all fleeting, he was always going to return to the cold Maine air and the family who loved the person he could pretend to be. He doesn’t know when, exactly, he’d forgotten that it was supposed to end, but he’s grateful, nonetheless.

“That sounds nice,” Dex says, and puts the rest of the world on hold. A handful of days isn’t much, he thinks, following Nursey into the kitchen, but it’s still time.

[Sequel is now up]

[prism-rush]

King of Prism Road to SSS 4: Joji the Joker

This is Joji’s character story from Road to SSS 4. It runs parallel to the Road to SSS 4 event story so you may want to read that first:

Road to SSS 4 Main Story Translation

Translator’s notes: At the time when this first came out it kinda blew me away because it was the most dialogue The Shuffle has ever had. (Actually that might still be true haha but anyway.) So little was known about The Shuffle at the time that even the game couldn’t keep them straight. Mitsuba is the one who “can only hit straight” because his hobby is shooting, and it’s a reference to his voice actor as well. But in the original version it was Mondo and I have the proof here. At some point between when I first read this story initially and a year later when I’m translating it now, they quietly fixed it. Hah. 

Joji: Mmmmm ❤ (Shall I secrete some pheromones~ ❤ )

 Passersby: EEEE! / IT’S JOJI! / JOJI-KUN!!

Joji: Thank you for your support everyone!

But you shouldn’t go causing such a commotion.... Instead of waiting around for me outside in the cold, I hope you can see me on stage next time☆

Fans: Okaaaay! 

Joji: Yay, thank you! 

(Backstage)

Joji: .....AHH! I’M BEAT! (It took so much effort just to get into the studio with everyone crowding around me.) 

Being as sexy as me should be a crime. But it’s not. Oh well.☆ 

Welp, let’s have a look-see at the script… Oh? This girl is a really popular model! Hmm hmm! She would be just perfect for my partner!☆ 

(It’s not like I’m actually serious about being in the duo tournament anyway... I’m just doing it because the director told me to. But I will take the opportunity to search for a partner.) 

Hmm hmm. As soon as I turn on my usual charm, that cutie model will be wrapped around my finger!☆

Tsurugi: Um… the duo partner for the tournament….

Mitsuba: Is supposed to be a male idol, right…?

Kokoro: Yeah, that’s right.

Mondo: …But Joji is only inviting girls…?

Ace: …He’s clearly just using it as an excuse to talk to girls. Even though the director is already mad at him, he never knows when to quit. 

Joji: Hey hey, honey pie! Let’s do our best today☆

Model: Oh.... Joji.... san...? Huh, what’s going on. All of a sudden my heart is beating really fast.... !?

Joji: Heheh don’t be shy. You know you want a piece☆

(Later)

Joji: And... done! Yep yep! I got the girl’s number today too☆ 

And... some dude’s number as well. I have to pretend I’m actually searching for a partner for the duo tournament, after all. GAahhhhhah but is the director REALLY going to make me do street style? And as a duo! There’s nobody good enough to partner with me in the first place! 

Mondo: Good work today, Joji!

Tsurugi: You really wore yourself out! 

Mitsuba: But that’s why you’re our leader!

Kokoro: You’re the best there is! 

Joji: Yes, yes, of course. I’m always at the top of my game. 

Tsurugi: And by the way, Joji...

Mitsuba: About the duo tournament! You were talking about how...

Kokoro: ...you haven’t decided on...

Mondo: .....your partner yet, have you!?

Joji: Huh? Not at all! And I’m not planning to! If I absolutely have to pair with someone, I’m fine with pairing with any one of you. 

Tsurugi: R-REALLY!?

Mitsuba: Well in that case..! Hey, everyone!

Kokori: We should decide this fair and square! 

Mondo: Agreed. We have to decide this fairly. 

Joji: Huuh? What are you guys going on about? ...Oh, that girl in that magazine over there is so cute!

Tsurugi: So, Joji! How about a bowling tournament!

Joji: Sure sure, whatever you say. 

Mondo: Ace can’t be on stage with you at the same time, so it will be between the four of us....

Kokoro: And whoever wins gets to be your partner! 

Mitsuba: We’ll all give our all! 

(Later) 

Kokoro: And so, I hereby declare the first ever Joji’s Partner Contest Bowling Tournament officially underway! 

The Shuffle: YAAAY! 

Joji: Wait. You were actually serious about the bowling thing!? Well, whatever I guess. All I gotta do is just name whoever wins as my partner, right? So, good luck then. 

The Shuffle: OKAY!!

Joji: ....But what should I do in the meantime? 

Tsurugi: Well, why don’t you bowl with us too?

Joji: Bowling, huh... Well, I guess it’s not a bad idea to enjoy something ordinary once in a while ♪ 

But, you guys! If you have me participate I’ll just end up overshadowing you all, won’t I? So today I think I’ll keep myself behind the scenes. Just for you guys! 

Mondo: Yeah, you’re right. 

Mintsuba: That’s our leader! Always thinking of us! 

Joji: Heheh, don’t make me blush♪ (Just kidding. I can’t be bothered to actually break a sweat on my day off. Aaah if only I wasn’t stuck here I could be on a date with a cute girl right nowwww. Well, whatever. I suppose as leader, looking after my pathetic underlings is just part of the job, right?) So, I’ll be the host and the referee then! Everyone, do it up!

The Shuffle: All right! Here we go! 

Joji: Alright then umm.... first up is Kokoro! 

Kokoro: Alright, leave it to me! Huah! 

*rolling*

*clunk*

*rolling*

Joji: Oohhh my. After all that force it just ended up in the gutter! 

Kokoro: What!?

Joji: No worries. That’s just how the cookie crumbles☆ Alright, who’s next!? Do your best! Oh, Mitsuba, how about you?

Mitsuba: Alright, leave it to me. Bowling is my specialty... here goes!

Joji: Ohh! The ball is rolling pretty straight! A split. It would take some serious skill to turn this into a spare….

Mitsuba: ...Hmph!

Joji: Too bad! It’s going straight down the middle again!

Tsurugi: By the way Mitsuba, you’re also good at shooting aren’t you?

Kokoro: And darts!

Mondo: But those are all sports where you just hit straight down the center….

*ball keeps rolling*

Mondo: Aaah! My second throw is a zero…

Joji: I see. Even with bowling you can only aim straight. Alright, alright, let’s keep going! Chop chop! Next up Mondo--

Mondo: ....Hiyah! 

*thump*

*steady rolling sound*

Joji: Hmmm. You knocked over... 6 pins? Not bad. Alright, last up is Tsurugi. 

Tsurugi: Here I come! Huaaaaahhh!!

*crash*

Joji: ....!! A strike!

Tsurugi: Eheh. I did it!

Joji: (No way. Not even I’ve ever managed a strike... Nah nah, this was just dumb luck. Yeah, dumb luck, that’s all.☆) You know, I’m getting pretty tired of commentating for you guys. 

...Oh, cute girl spotted.☆ Target... locked! And.... secrete! 

Girl: !! EEE! 

Joji: Ahhh... this is the life. I needed a recharge after being stuck with those guys all day.

(Finally, the game reached its conclusion.)

Joji: Alriiiight, I’ll skip the formalities and get straight to the point. Yadda yadda yadda, you all did your best, but now... 

It’s time to announce the results!

The Shuffle: YAAAAY!

Joji: In 1st place… Kokoro!

Kokoro: YeeeEAAAAAAAHHH! I DID IT!!!! I’m going to go practice street style right away!!

Joji: In 2nd place… Mondo!

Mondo: Dammit… I was so close…

Joji: And in 3rd and 4th place… wellnobodyreallycaresbut… Mitsuba and Tsurugi! 

Mitsuba: ...Darn it!

Tsurugi: Bowling is actually really hard.

Ace: Oh ho...

Joji: So, therefore, the best partner for me is… 

The 2nd place winner, Mondo!

Kokoro and Mondo: WHAAT?!

Kokoro: But but but but why?! I was number one!

Joji: But… we never exactly decided that 1st place would make you my partner… After all, if I made the number one player into my partner, it could take some of the spotlight off of me! Therefore, my partner is number two!

Kokoro: That’s not fair...

Mondo: Thank you so much!! I’ll work really hard!

Joji: Yeah yeah, do your best. (Like it matters. I won’t be in the duo tournament anyway. I’ll just conveniently delay telling the director that I have a partner.)

(A few days later, at Schwarz Rose...)

Joji: D... director? You called for me? But what is he doing here...

Jin: Good evening. Alexander Yamato. Joji Takadanobaba. The two of you--

(End. Continued in the Road to SSS 4 main story.)

[artificialqueens]

Overpowered Part 6 (Branjie)- athena2

Thank you all for your amazing comments and support! There will be one more chapter after this one! I really hope you like this one, and it would be great if you could leave some feedback! *there is mild angst and implied depression in the beginning*

Read on AO3

Vanessa tries not to think about the fact that she was d–she can’t say it. The fact that she wasn’t alive.

Sure, Yvie figured it was less than 10 minutes, but the bottom line is she had no heartbeat. The world faded to black while she thought of Brooke, and the next thing she knew she was in a hospital bed, mind snapping instantly through its haze to Brooke, needing her near.

They go home with pills and a bundle of papers on burn cream and dosages and instructions to rest and warnings that she’ll be weak, all read dutifully by Brooke. She lets it slip that she might call Nina, which she should have done months ago, honestly, and Brooke is sweet about it, and Vanessa eagerly chases sleep to avoid her thoughts.

The thought that Brooke would be alone, that she’d have no one to calm her after a nightmare, or would have to spend what was supposed to be their first Christmas together without her, combined with the thought that Vanessa was almost permanently dead, and would never watch another sunset or zip up her suit or feel the wind on her face when she drove or see Brooke smile again–it’s too much to even think about it, and it’s this that leaves her burrowed into the couch, unable to move.

She feels like rocks are weighing her down, and her body is so heavy she almost can’t get up to go see Nina. But Nina’s helped Brooke so much, and if there’s a chance Nina can help her not feel this way, she has to go. It’s like all the life is slowly leaving her and she doesn’t want it to but she’s too exhausted and numb to fight it.

She throws herself in the shower for the first time in she doesn’t know how many days, trying to focus on the heat of the water as it patters against her skin. She borrows some of the breathing techniques Brooke does and she’s not sure if she feels better, but she definitely feels cleaner.

She drops in a chair across from Nina’s desk. Nina’s sunny face exudes calm, though Vanessa didn’t even know she was nervous.

“So everything I say is cont-continent, no, const-constitu– you won’t tell anyone?” She huffs in exasperation.

Nina smiles. “Everything is confidential, yes. Nothing leaves this room.”

Vanessa nods. “Right. So, like, where do I start?”

“Well, we could start with how you’ve been feeling? It’s important to think about your mental recovery along with your physical recovery.”

It bursts out of her, a volcano erupting without warning. How Brooke would have been alone and Vanessa wouldn’t have been alive, and how the fact that she could have–and probably would have, in normal circumstances–died twice now has settled into her body and makes her bones want to snap from the sheer weight of it.

“And I feel kinda guilty,” she adds after a breath. “I should be happy. I am happy. But it’s hard to be happy you’re alive when you keep thinking how you almost weren’t, you know? I just want to feel normal again.”

Nina is quiet. For a second Vanessa wonders if she’s too fucked-up for Nina to help, but then she re-considers that she shouldn’t think of herself like that. She’s been through trauma, like Brooke has, and Vanessa would never think of Brooke as fucked-up, so she isn’t either.

When Nina finally speaks, it’s soothing. “You don’t have to feel guilty for your feelings. You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling, and after something like this, it’s understandable that you’ve had some challenges returning to your typical life.”

Vanessa nods.

Nina takes a breath. “But I want to help you with the source of your guilt. Do you think it’s just because you’ve been struggling with focusing on being alive? Or do you also think you’re experiencing guilt for another reason?”

I’m guilty that I survived when others didn’t, Vanessa thinks but doesn’t say. It’s been in the back of her mind since the fire but never said aloud. Damn, Nina was good. If Vanessa didn’t know she’d controlled wind back in her hero days, she would swear Nina read minds.

“My mom believed in that ‘everything happens for a reason’ stuff,” Vanessa starts, not quite sure where she’s going. “I never really did. But that’s twice now I should have died and didn’t, when people that should live die every day, you know? And it’s not fair that they died. It’s not. But I lived and I guess it’s just like…shit, I’m here, aren’t I? And I want to be. I want to live,” her voice grows stronger. “I just want to live. I want to make out with Brooke and eat a shit-load of chips and pet dogs and save people, as long as I can. So I’m going to. I guess that’s all I can do, right?”

“I think that’s all any of us can do,” Nina says softly before continuing the session. —

She knows Christmas can’t magically make her better, but she books another appointment with Nina and watches Brooke scurry around the kitchen making cookies (and snatches some off the tray), and cuddles with her while watching Christmas movies, and it’s a little easier to be happy, to focus on the fact that she’s here, breathing, and how glorious it is to be alive.

She keeps peeking at the ring she hid in her dresser. Sure, they’ve only been together for five months, but Vanessa knows without a single doubt that Brooke is the one, just like all rom-coms talk about, and it’s their first Christmas together (she even got an ornament with two little birds proclaiming it) and she’s going for it. No time like the present. She’s excited to give it to Brooke, and after days on the couch feeling absolutely empty, it’s a relief to have her stomach flutter with anticipation.

She persists into Christmas Eve, and makes French toast for breakfast like her mother always did. She settles into Brooke’s lap to feel her solidness, breathes and focuses on the moment like Nina showed her.

Everyone barges in that night, and she slips into the noise and chaos like an old sweater you thought you’d grown out of, only to find it fits better than ever and is just as soft as you remembered.

She looks around and it dawns on her that what she has in front of her is something she hasn’t had, hasn’t felt, in years, and thought she never would again: a family. Not the one she had, the one she lost, but a new one, one she’s made herself, with Brooke by her side.

Her stomach is jittery when she leads Brooke to the bedroom, though it’s possibly because she overdid it on the cake, and even as she pulls out the ring and fumbles over her words it doesn’t seem real; it’s more like the best dream she’s ever had.

But then Brooke says yes and kisses her and her lips are so light and cool that it has to be real. She’s going to marry Brooke. She thought she’d lost this type of bliss and joy after the fire. She never thought she’d have anything like it again. But that ring is her second chance, a reminder that while she lost in the fire, she rose from the ashes and can be happy again, can have a family again.

And then she laughs as Brooke pulls out her own ring and her words draw more tears out of Vanessa than she thought the human body could even hold.

She remembers when she first brought Brooke home, how for days she was afraid to even get a glass of water without asking first, and Vanessa’s heart cracked each time. Now, with Brooke in front of her proposing, her ring already on Brooke’s finger, she finds her heart has not only been mended but may simply explode. They’ve both come a long way.

She gets hit in the forehead with a bingo ball twice because she can’t stop looking at their rings, and that night she falls into one of the best sleeps she’s ever had. —

January marches in and the cold weather is refreshing. It’s January 4th before the mess of the New Year’s party is completely cleared up, after finding an empty Pringles can mixed in with toilet paper under the bathroom sink that afternoon (Vanessa’s money is on Silk).

She keeps going to Nina. They talk about the fire a lot, because Nina says Vanessa never truly let herself feel and understand her grief from it, and Vanessa knows she’s right. She buried it so forcefully that it scrapes and scratches her insides on the way back up, but she can’t deny that after she talks about it, she feels so light she could fly.

She starts to feel normal again, as normal as one can when you also shoot fire out of your hands, but there are times when she’s afraid to close her eyes, afraid of what she might see and afraid they may not open again. She tells Brooke and Brooke just asks how she can help, and Vanessa wants to be held. So Brooke holds her at night and keeps her calm, speaks soothingly to her as she drifts off, and it’s exactly what she needs.

The burn on her arm is almost gone, but she thinks the one on her chest will scar, a thin pink line right over her heart. A reminder that she lived, and that she will continue to do so. —-

One morning she enters the kitchen to see three different-sized pancakes carefully arranged on her plate, with tiny chocolate chip eyes and buttons.

“Snowmen, huh?” Vanessa grins.

Brooke’s cheeks turn pink. “I had a dream last night–I think it was a memory, actually–that I was a little kid making a snowman.”

Vanessa lets her snowman swim in syrup and quickly devours him. She eats her last bite, then stands abruptly, trying to hide her smile. “Put on your coat.”

“Why?”

“We’re making a damn snowman.” —

“I’m gonna throw up, I swear,” Brooke groans.

“You gotta carry me, I can’t walk,” Vanessa laments. “Why are there so many wedding cake samples?”

“Where’s the next place?” Silk inquires jauntily.

“Yeah, y'all are amateurs, I can do at least 10 more samples,” Yvie brags. “I had a competitive eating phase when I was 12.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Vanessa mutters.

“I’m sitting the next one out,” Scarlet insists.

“Same here,” A’Keria mumbles.

“You better not puke in Bertha!” —

“Damn, Brooke,” Vanessa whistles, knees going weak, heat rising up her neck.

Brooke glances up and smiles shyly as she adjusts her jacket. “It looks okay?”

Brooke is wearing a deep navy suit for the wedding after confessing to Vanessa one night that she wouldn’t be comfortable in a dress. Vanessa’s never seen Brooke in a suit before and she’s forgetting what words are.

“Mmm. Lot more than okay.” Vanessa practically runs to kiss her, only to almost trample Scarlet, who is on the ground checking the fit of Brooke’s pants.

“Save it for the wedding,” she warns, raising her measuring tape at Vanessa threateningly.

Vanessa manages to save it until that night at least, when she rips off her clothes like lightning and throws herself into Brooke’s arms. —

The rest of January passes in a whirlwind of wedding plans.

Nina has a beach house that she’s going to let them use, in addition to officiating the ceremony. She agreed to stay for a little of the dinner, but not too long because it was unprofessional. Vanessa’s thought it before, but she thinks it again: Nina is a goddamn saint.

They keep it small: Silk, A’Keria, Scarlet, Yvie, and Plastique. As a child, she never pictured herself having such a small wedding, especially since weddings in her family seemed to have a 200-guest minimum, but she finds it’s exactly what she wants. All the people that she truly likes, there to see her marry the woman she loves most. There’s nothing else she could possibly ask for. Aside from picking the cake, everything has been easy, and they weren’t screaming at each other over guests and food like the straight couples on TV.

They decide on a March wedding, a few days after spring starts, halfway between winter’s ice and summer’s fire. Back in the fall, Vanessa had listed March as the end of her life.

Now it’s the start of her new one. —

“This place is fancy as shit,” Vanessa mumbles through a mouthful of bread.

“I know, right?” Brooke grins.

Valentine’s Day couples surround them, and Vanessa notices that Brooke only looks over her shoulder a few times, instead of every other second like she used to.

They keep smiling at each other and bursting into laughter. Vanessa is happy, so happy it can’t even be described. She’s sleeping better, and Brooke is down to one or two nightmares a week, and each hour with Nina gets easier, and she’s just happy. Vanessa tells Brooke her Valentine’s horror stories, and Brooke tells her about the flashback dream she had recently about going sledding, and then they just talk and joke and laugh about everything and nothing and Vanessa feels like she’s done this with Brooke her entire life.

Their plan to romantically split a chocolate-peanut butter lava cake fails spectacularly after they taste it and their cute fork touching turns into war over each bite.

“Screw romance, I’m ordering another cake,” Vanessa announces.

When they get home after dinner, Vanessa almost steps on a rose petal, which form a trail from the door to the bedroom. She notices Brooke watching her carefully.

“How did you do this while we were gone?” Vanessa asks.

“I asked A’Keria to come here and arrange them, but I did the writing.”

“Writing?”

“Yeah, um, the rose petals are fake, but it’s so I could write on them. Each one has something I love about you on it.” Brooke smiles nervously.

Vanessa picks one up and turns it over, your laugh written in Brooke’s tiny handwriting. She bends over for the next one and reads how your head fits perfectly against my chest.

“How are you even real?” Vanessa muses through her tears. “You’re like, straight out of a movie.” She hugs Brooke and winks mischievously. “You’re gonna have to do some hunting for mine. I had Silk come here while we were out and hide yours all over the apartment.”

“What am I looking for?” Brooke asks.

“You know your notebook you write stuff you remember in?”

Brooke nods.

“I wrote you my own notebook. This one has my favorite memories of us in it. I thought you’d like it.”

She spent days reliving her favorite times with Brooke and writing them down, from the time when she told Brooke stories about her mom and Brooke just listened and let her cry, to the time they stayed in pajamas and watched movies all day, to their intense, flushed-cheek snowball fight a few weeks ago, and to when Brooke fed pigeons in the park and they almost got attacked by birds.

“I love you so much,” Brooke declares warmly, eyes damp in the corners.

“I think we should follow those rose petals first before you look,” Vanessa says.

Brooke scoops her up and carries her to the bedroom. —

Brooke has ice on her toes when Vanessa gets home from shopping, and Vanessa knows she was dancing again. She knows Brooke has been practicing, but she hasn’t mentioned it so she doesn’t get self-conscious.

“Hi there,” Vanessa leans over the couch and kisses the top of Brooke’s head.

“Hi,” she replies. “I, um, I was dancing,” she adds, cheeks flushing.

“I see that. Is it going okay?”

“Yes,” Brooke smiles. “I’ve been watching videos and it-it just feels so good. I can’t really describe it. Like, I start and I forget everything, it’s just me dancing. It’s a little rough though, starting up again after two years,” she finishes, gesturing to the ice bags.

“Get on your stomach, I’ll give you a massage.”

Brooke nods, fingers running over the bottom of her shirt. “Should I…”

“You can leave it on, baby,” Vanessa interjects. She knows Brooke doesn’t like having her body and scars exposed too much.

Brooke nods again and flops onto her stomach, and Vanessa brings her hands down to Brooke’s shoulders. She lets her hands work the muscles loose and roam down Brooke’s back, skin she knows as well as her own. She knows the firm shoulders with two scars on the left one–one from her tracking chip and one from Black Diamond’s diamond blade–knows the dip of Brooke’s spine, the light dusting of freckles on her back. She ends with a soft kiss on the back of Brooke’s neck, and she purrs dreamily, then flips over and pulls Vanessa to lay on her chest. She strokes Vanessa’s hair, and they’re both asleep before she knows it. —

“If you come one inch closer, I swear to God I’ll burn you till there’s nothing left,” she growls.

“Ness, will you hurry up and kill it so I can shower?” Brooke whines.

“It’s a giant-ass spider, and I can’t use my powers or I’ll burn the whole place down!”

“Maybe I can freeze it?” Brooke suggests.

“Worth a shot- oh shit, he’s moving!”

5 minutes later she’s melting the ice crusted around the bathtub, and the spider is nowhere to be found. —

“For the last time, get outta the kitchen, Mary! I’m not letting you make your own birthday cake!”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Brooke says sheepishly.

“I know, but I want to.” This is Brooke’s first birthday away from the lab and Vanessa refuses to let her lift a finger.

Vanessa used to help (read: lick the spoon and make a mess) her mom bake, but was never as good as her, and seeing how calm and happy Brooke gets when she bakes makes Vanessa eager to try on her own.

She knows Brooke made her own food when she was with the lab, but the drugs often left her too sick to eat and cooking didn’t excite her like it did now. Plus she didn’t have as many memories with food like most people did, though they’ve found that certain foods give Brooke flashes of memories, and she loves trying new things. Vanessa remembers one of their first nights together when she asked Brooke what she wanted from her favorite Chinese place, and Brooke had looked at her blankly, then pored over the choices with such interest and indecision that they ordered half the menu.

She sends Brooke to spend the afternoon with Yvie and Scarlet and ties on an apron like a serious chef.

It’s just a vanilla cake with strawberries that Silk used her connections to procure from somewhere they’re in season. How hard could it be?

Vanessa stares at the recipe and grabs her phone in the same instant.

“A’Keria, get your ass over here and help me make this cake!” —

She and A’Keria manage to successfully make not only a cake, but also macaroni and cheese, roasted chicken, and mashed potatoes, and still emerge from the kitchen alive.

Yvie and Scarlet bring Brooke back and Silk arrives with salad, and Vanessa hops in the shower to get frosting out of her hair.

The cake comes out better than she hoped, after she destroyed her apron and had to clean cake batter off the walls at one point, and it actually tastes good. Vanessa can’t hide her surprise or pleasure.

Brooke starts protesting immediately when Vanessa hands her the envelope. Vanessa cuts her off. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I had to get you something. You got me Riley for my birthday. And this is kind of for both of us, if that helps.”

Brooke concedes and Vanessa watches her smile spread as she opens two tickets to a ballet. Vanessa thought it would be fun for the both of them to go. “Ness, this is amazing! I haven’t seen a ballet since before, you know.” She pulls Vanessa in for a strawberry-vanilla kiss.

Scarlet somehow kicks all their asses at Monopoly without even trying, and she has Silk howling that she’s a cheater after she lands on her property 3 times in a row.

Brooke reprises her role as trusty banker, and Yvie delivers a lecture on capitalism every time someone takes her money. A’Keria gets wine-drunk and passes out a few minutes before Silk throws the board across the room and Scarlet makes it rain paper money, and all in all, it’s a tame round of Monopoly. —

Somehow, before they know it, it’s the morning of their wedding.

“We’re getting married today,” Brooke points out. “Like, hours from now.”

“You’re not getting cold feet on me, are you?” Vanessa nestles her face in Brooke’s chest. It’s a little tight, and she frowns with worry.

“My feet are always cold.”

“Tell me about it, I sleep next to them every night,” Vanessa teases.

Brooke snorts, and Vanessa feels her relax.

“Seriously, though,” Vanessa continues. “You nervous?”

“I was a little nervous last night,” Brooke admits. “But then I remembered that you’ll be there with me, and I was okay. How about you?”

“Me? I’m good. I have you.” —

Yvie’s face is grim when they arrive at the beach house.

“I think we’re gonna have to postpone the wedding,” she says gravely.

“Why?” Vanessa demands.

Brooke had brought their suits and masks in a bag, just in case, which Vanessa hates but it’s part of the job. She’s praying they won’t have to use them.

“I had a vision last night, and there’s gonna be a huge attack on the city.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vanessa roars. “I can’t have one damn day.”

Yvie laughs so hard she doubles over. “I’m kidding,” she spurts between tears of laughter. “I just wanted to see what you would do.”

“That ain’t funny, hoe!” Vanessa yells, chuckling against her will. —

Silk insists on keeping them separated, and hauls Scarlet with her to get Brooke ready while A’Keria and Yvie work on Vanessa.

She had her mom’s old wedding dress altered and it fits her perfectly, the white lace cool on her skin. A’Keria is good with hair and just started her new job at a salon, and she twists Vanessa’s waves into a half-down, half-up hairstyle Vanessa wouldn’t have even attempted.

She shoves their hands away and puts on her own makeup, and then she’s ready with half an hour to go and she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She sits down and A’Keria berates her for wrinkling the dress. She pulls out potato chips and Yvie snatches them away.

“I need to see Brooke,” Vanessa insists, ignoring their protests and barreling into the bedroom where Brooke is getting ready, currently tangled up with Silk and Scarlet trying to tie her bowtie and looking in danger of being choked.

“Allow me,” Vanessa strides across the room and shoves them both aside. She unknots the bird’s nest they’ve created and follows the YouTube video she memorized last night as Brooke rubs at her throat.

“You look so beautiful.” Brooke’s eyes are shining as she looks down at Vanessa.

Vanessa feels her cheeks warm. “So do you, baby. You’ll look even better when I fix this bowtie.”

“My wife,” Brooke whispers in disbelief, tears pooling, and now Vanessa’s crying too.

“You got me crying already, I’m gonna wreck my makeup and A’Keria’s gonna scream,” Vanessa laughs tearfully.

“Sorry.” Brooke breathes a soft laugh. “I guess I’ll see you out there?”

“Yes,” Vanessa heads outside. “You will.” —

And then, like a dream, her feet rest on the sand, gray-blue water behind her, faint sun shining as she looks into Brooke’s eyes, eyes that she had always noticed even behind a neon-green mask.

When she first started fighting Frost, over a year ago now, the most exciting thing she could imagine for her future was bringing Frost down. Now, her future is painted with Brooke’s green eyes, and she can’t even imagine the good things in store for them.

Her makeup is shot to hell as she begins her vows, but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s hands hold hers and keep her steady, and Vanessa speaks words she knows she will follow forever.

“I promise to always take care of you. I promise to be by your side through good and bad and everything else. I promise to be there when you’re scared in the middle of the night, and when you have to get a shot, and when you just need a friend, and when you want someone to try the cookies you made, I’ll be there, don’t worry.” She and Brooke both grin. “I promise to listen and try to understand your thoughts and feelings, and to give you space when you need it. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Brooke bites her lip, hands gripping tightly, and Vanessa knows she’s trying to find her voice to respond with her vows.

“I promise to always take care of you. I promise to be by your side through good and bad and everything else. I promise to be there when you’re scared to close your eyes, and when you need to cry, and when you just want to watch a movie, even if we’ve seen it a hundred times. And I promise to be there when you’re sick after trying to eat a dozen cookies.” Brooke smirks knowingly, and Vanessa accepts that she’s never letting that one go. “I promise to listen and try to understand your thoughts and feelings, and to give you space when you need it. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Both their eyes are damp, and Nina’s are too as she begins to speak. “You may now-”

But Vanessa doesn’t need to hear the rest. All she needs are Brooke’s lips on hers, their ice meeting her fire and creating an explosion of fireworks that burst through her whole body, and her only thought is that these are the lips of her wife. —

When she and Brooke finally hit their pillows, clothes shed and panting breathlessly, it’s well past midnight and she’s still floating.

The entire party passed in a blissful blur, with Brooke using her powers to create an ice pack for Scarlet after she hit her knee trying to dance one of the highlights she remembers.

She also remembers Plastique going through almost a whole pack of tissues, and pulling her aside after the ceremony to say that she’s never seen Brooke this happy.

Brooke’s mouth is entirely frozen into a smile right now as she gazes at Vanessa lovingly across the mattress.

“I love you,” she says.

“And I love you,” Vanessa says back.

She curls up in Brooke’s arms, their bodies intertwining, and she listens to them breathing in sync, their hearts beating in rhythm.

When they finally do fall asleep, it is just before the sun rises on their first day as wives.

[hecohansen31]

Duncan loves his two princesses, lovely wife and dear daughter, and that's why he is working very hard, a lot, so they can have everything they need and want. Problem : what they want is he being with them at home and not at his office, in a plane or in another country. His wife is a bit sad, even if she understands, but his baby girl is not happy at all when her dad leave them.

(A/N): Hello there, nonnie!

I really hope that you will like this!

Also BIG NOTE for all of you “Angel” fans, I don’t know if I just explained myself wrong but the next chapter of this miniseries will be about Michael, it won’t be a sequel to Duncan’s love story with sweet innocent reader, but since you have been so nice with me about this story, I just wanted to do something… so this drabble takes place in the same universe and I will gladly work on any prompt about this couple you might have, just send in everything and I will be at your service!

Love you, lovelies!

WARNINGS; Parent Fights (also a bit of violence from reader, nothing abusive, but… hey be warned…) and Language!

The fact that Duncan was a workaholic was something that had always been present in their relationship, since the start.

But during the first years that they had been an official couple, not only had also she been pretty busy, since Duncan had stepped away from his position at the Shepherd Foundation, putting her in his stead, but also he had started his own company, away from the Shepherd’s lies.

The start was rough and the fact that they lived in separate houses helped a bit, because they were independent, although with time they smashed together.

But Duncan’s mole of work didn’t lessen in the slightest, whereas she managed to reach a strange balance, being the one who handled the house’s resources and other things, outside their offices.

She chose the dates, she chose the gifts and she chose how to pass the time, on their vacation (or better when she made Duncan take one).

Sometimes it was almost as if she had never moved away from her secretary position.

But something changed, after Duncan asked her to marry it, a total surprise on the 4th of July, something which got quite a few laughs from her: he went down on his knees, meanwhile the fireworks went off and she was distracted, and when she turned around to call Duncan to join her, she found him on her knees, in an elegant suite and an expensive ring in a little box.

“(Y/N), angel of mine, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?”.

She had screeched and a month later, they had started looking both for dresses, cakes and churches, and six months later she was pronouncing her vows in front of a secluded circle or friends and family, on a little church next to the beach and a month later they had moved onto their honeymoon, a period of sweet nothings and soft vacation.

They had traveled the world, with Duncan not picking up a single call, which meant pure bliss, since all his attention was suddenly on her, and she was grateful for each small touch, soft kiss and sweet whisper in her ear.

And it was during that time that their first daughter, Angelique was conceived.

A month after their return, she had discovered she was pregnant, and for other nine months Duncan had ignored his work for a bit longer, still working a but he was always next to her during the long night and the nauseous morning.

She had felt the best thank to his support and had been beyond happy when she had been able to hold the little bundle of joy in her arms, looking at Duncan, who had already fallen in love with her, truly smitten, and had just mumbled:

“Angelique, it means “angelic”, I think it would be perfect since your mother is a true angel”.

A pure year of bliss had followed, which meant also suddenly waking up in the middle of the night to feed her, her breasts hurting her because the baby wouldn’t suck on them and bad mood since the nights were spent sleepless.

But it was extremely worth it, mostly when their child reassembled them in both their physical appearance and behaviors (you still couldn’t believe that she had picked up the Shepherd’s pout) or babbled out “mama” or “dada”, giggling victoriously at two full-grown adults doing the “airplane” with her food.

But slowly Duncan had started distancing himself from them: it had started slowly…

“The child is old enough” and “You can handle her” had been the words uttered by Duncan, who had had to “make up for the time he had missed” with his own company, and she allowed, knowing that after the prison, everything had been extremely roughly for the ex-convict.

But slowly, a year had become two and then three and she had had to step out from her position as a CEO over at Shepherd Foundation, and although she hated the stress of it, she somehow missed.

She loved being a mom but she missed the possibility to have more human contact, alongside the feeling of being productive.

The fact that Angelique had started going to a pre-school, when she was three year old had been helpful, but she still needed to be there for her, since Duncan couldn’t, mostly because of the constant trips he was on.

Those trips honestly made her extremely frustrated, since not only she was jealous of what might happen but also of the man itself who got to enjoy life, meanwhile she stayed home, watching the umpteenth Disney movie…

She loved being a mom, she kept repeating herself on the hardest days, but she felt more like a single mom than anything else…

But she tried not to blow up into Duncan’s face: her husband was extremely stressed, she saw it each time he came back from work, sleepless and definitely sad, barely able to hug his princesses, which he loved very much but…

… he just hadn’t the time to show it.

But he had the materials to do it: a new teddy bear would appear in Angelique’s room, after Duncan came back from a new trip, meanwhile a piece of jewelry found its way into her vanity, at the same time.

But she didn’t care about any jewel, she just wanted the old Duncan, the honeymoon phase and the pregnancy one, when and where she finally had some kind of peace with Duncan and her beloved daughter.

So, she tried to put her best façade, hiding the hurt of Duncan’s careless behavior, but whereas she could resist, Angelique was just a child and spoke up truth, at first with her:

“I am sure that daddy doesn’t love me anymore” they had been coming home from a parent’s day, Duncan was supposed to be with her, but he had bailed out at the last minute, which got her to take his place, cancelling an important work date, but she couldn’t leave her daughter alone.

“Oh sweetie, why would you say something like that?” she tried to coo the poor baby, who just looked at her shyly, meanwhile she strapped her in the car seat “… he is just very busy”.

“But he is ALWAYS busy!” she mumbled, protesting shyly meanwhile her hands became fists on her sides, and she could see the hurt in her eyes “… he never spends time with me, anymore”.

“He is busy, sweetie” it felt bitter even on her tongue, it was a straight up lie “… he works himself so so much for us”.

“Can’t he just have a day off for us?” pleaded Angelique, hugging herself, a trait she had taken from her, and she caressed her face gently, making her look in the eyes.

“I will try to do my best to convince, daddy” she promised, before cradling her daughter closer, soothing her for a bit, before kissing all her face, getting a disgusted expression from her “… and in the meanwhile, us, wonder women will get our ice creams, won’t we?”.

“Yay!”.

She had decided to bring up the proposal at dinner, after she had cooked him his favorite meal, thinking about suggesting a vacation, all together, maybe in an hot place since it was extremely cold in DC; they would have their fun, together and maybe Duncan would finally understand the importance of family.

But Angelique, who was as extremely chatty as her dad, immediately jumped into his lap, as soon as he sprawled himself on the sofa, which might seem a good moment to play with him, but she had already spotted anger in his eyes when he had walked in, so she came quickly to usher Angelique away, but the sweet girl kept on insisting and eventually she had to give up to check the pot on the stove.

“Daddy!” she tried to cheer him up, but Duncan just gave her a tired and disgruntled smile “… I am so happy you are back!”.

She had gained from Duncan the ability to twist people around her little fingers, and although her dad was extremely extremely taken by other things, he also fell in her words…

… usually.

Not that night, because he just grunted, which she couldn’t hear, because of the low hum of the oven, meanwhile the pot on the stove started making noises, so not only her ears were full but also her attention was all on not burning their dinner.

But she heard clearly the scream that followed, which got a cold chill to run down her back:

-How dare you ask for more time?! – clear anger shone in Duncan’s voice, and although she understood that it wasn’t directed towards Angelique, the poor child took a step back, scared -Each thing I do it’s for you and your mother! And you SHOULD BE GRATEFUL! -.

-I am sorry, daddy- mumbled the shy baby, trying to keep back the tears, exactly as Duncan did and she felt comforted immediately by her mother’s presence, but then Duncan went on…

-Sometimes I do believe that my life would have been easier without you! -.

This got Angelique to straight up run away from her arms, meanwhile she reached her breaking point.

She raised up from her cradled position, rage shone in Duncan’s eyes, but it was nothing to the one she owned, and the fear to disappoint him disappeared swiftly as she turned around.

He seemed to have realized the shit he had said, but she didn’t care and the slap resonated for the entire building.

-You say another thing like that to my daughter and you’ll regret it-she  didn’t need to raise her voice in the slightest, her calm tone was enough terrifying, meanwhile she held back the tears -You seriously think that we should be grateful to you, when all you do is go out on trips and work, and you never have the time for us… I HAD TO QUIT MY JOB, DUNCAN! I don’t regret it, I love being Angelique’s mom, but… I miss it… and I miss the kind man, who loved me and her over anything-.

She didn’t care if it hurt him, he needed to finally hear the truth.

-Angelique is fucking convinced that you don’t love her anymore! And you go and say some shit like that- she honestly knew that Angelique was listening, but she was far too gone -… and you know… sometimes I think it too, because you are NEVER HERE! I sometimes think that maybe you went back to your old way… because apparently work comes before family-.

And before he could say anything, she turned around, effectively shutting him up.

-… I don’t care what you have to say, I am taking Angelique and we are staying at my mother’s, I don’t care whether you approve it or not, but right now… I don’t want you around-.

She knew it was cruel and it honestly hurt her, much more than she let out, but she needed to comfort a bit Angelique and seeing Duncan would do no good to the poor baby.

She went in her room to talk with her, maybe hug her and prepare the thing, meanwhile she sent a quick message to her mother, about their arrival, thank God they didn’t live far away from her.

Her mother sent a concerned reply but she ignored because as soon as she walked into Angelique room… she found it empty.

She, at first, thought that the child had hidden, she loved playing “hide-and-seek” and maybe that had been her own idea to get over the trauma, but the girl didn’t seem to be anywhere in the room and she immediately moved out of it, almost jumping into Duncan, who had decided to follow her like a lost puppy.

But she didn’t care, in the slightest.

She moved, firstly, in their bathroom, thinking that since it was the farthest place in their apartment from the kitchen it might have helped with covering the noise, but no sign of Angelique neither there.

And neither in the sitting room, Duncan’s office, hers, and their shared bedroom.

Angelique was not at home, anymore.

She couldn’t breath, and when she turned around she was almost grateful that Duncan was there to catch her, after she slowly stumbled, meanwhile an hand went up to her mouth, shaken by sobs and tears.

Where was her sweet girl?

She turned to Duncan, knowing that it would be futile to hide this, although she wanted to egotistically tell him to “fuck off”; she knew that Angelique had probably run away because of the fight with Duncan.

-She is not here? – he asked, his gaze is both worried and confused, and he gently led her to the little armchair in the dining area, letting her sit down meanwhile he gently caressed her shaken back -… sweetie, you need to tell me-.

-She is not in her room and… I can’t find her…- she couldn’t help but breath slowly, trying to catch her missing breath -… she is probably scared and … I am, also, so scared of what might happen to her… she is…-.

-I know, sweetheart – he caressed her back, again, before moving away, his hands going to the phone, and she was halfway through screaming at him, when he uttered the following words -… I am Duncan Shepherd and I am reporting a missing child…-.

Duncan had not only alerted the police, but his own security was spread through the entire city and their neighborhood had also been woken up and everyone had been extremely happy to give the young couple a hand.

A few women had comforted her, suggesting that Angelique had just wandered a bit, meanwhile Duncan handled the men, who had already a gun, in each hand…

The police had realized that Angelique had actually escaped from the front door, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty, because she probably ran away, meanwhile they were fighting, which not only made her feel extremely neglectful but also she honestly didn’t want to think what her daughter might have thought of her screaming at Duncan, her father.

They had decided to move towards the park where Angelique and her went during their free afternoons, it held so many memories, mostly of all the lovely pic-nicks they had made before Duncan became such a workaholic; Angelique and her would be running around, her trying to catch the younger child, meanwhile Duncan shot pictures of the two.

Oh, how she loved those days…

Both her and Duncan started shouting their daughter’s name, just getting a few scream of old men, probably homeless, wanting just to be left alone, so they could sleep in peace and this got her heart to squeeze from fear: what if somebody had come before her, and taken her away?

She tried to keep her fears to herself but by the way she shook as a leaf, she immediately attracted Duncan’s attention, who, after the little scene in the dining room hadn’t dared to touch her, something for which she was grateful and she honestly regretted having slapped him, mostly if Angelique had been there.

She shouldn’t have let her anger take over…

-We are going to find her, don’t worry- he reassured her, his eyes shining with strength and a bit of regret -I actually have an idea… do you remember Angelique’s favorite place, here? The covered slide? -.

She did: her hyperactive daughter, loved sliding down the red slide, going up and down and sometimes getting also her mother to do it (Duncan was sure that he would have destroyed the slide, had he tried it).

There was something that made her fall in love with the toy and she couldn’t help but think that it would have been a perfect hiding place.

-… yeah, of course! – and after a few minutes they were running for it, and a clear and female sniffling sound was heard from it and Angelique’s tiny designer shoes, were shown at the end of the slide, meanwhile her entire body was covered, as if she was hiding.

-Oh, thank God! Angelique, you are here! – she mumbled, meanwhile moving t get closer, but the child retreated further into the slide -… sweetie… what…? -.

-You don’t want me anymore! – the child shouted, her tone whiny and shy, clearly hurt by both Duncan’s words but also their fight and it literally broke her heart -… you fought and hurt each other! -.

-Sweetie, mommy and daddy just lost their temper- she hoped that this, at least, would help a bit -… it won’t happen again, I swear… you have no idea of how worried we…-.

But she just heard a grunt of protest and she couldn’t help but damn Duncan’s stubbornness, passed down alongside his genes to his daughter.

Duncan came over, she immediately wanted to stop him, but he just grouched down next to the slide, putting an hand on it lightly, in order for him to be closer to her, tears finally shone in his eyes, they must have started when they found Angelique and part of her couldn’t help but feel like he had suffered enough.

-Sweetie…- his voice was teary and she could feel the sadness in it and immediately Angelique stilled her moves -… daddy’s extremely sorry… I know that I hurt you with all those words, both you and your beautiful mommy, and I have no excuse for it, but…please come back home, we can’t literally live without you-.

Duncan’s words were easy, but each meant something.

Each had an important meaning telling her that she loved her and was worried for her, and there she recognized the Duncan she had married and Angelique’s father.

Her child was still extremely careful, although she had stilled in her movements, didn’t seem to move in the slightest, not wanting to get out.

-YOU LIE! – insisted the child, and she knew that Duncan’s heart broke and although she hated him with an extreme burning passion right now, she still loved him with the same passion -… you hate me, you don’t want me anymore, you don’t spend time with me anymore and get angry when I ask some-.

-Daddy didn’t get angry with you- she tried to help Duncan, setting down on the other side of the slide, and gently caressing Angelique’s legs to comfort her -… his work is hard and sometimes he loses his temper, I lost it too, but I am extremely sorry for it, and I swear on your teddy bear that I won’t lose it anymore, not in front of you-.

Silence came from the slide and she almost thought about asking Duncan to forcefully take away Angelique, but then the man did something better.

-Angel of mine, I am… incredibly sorry of what I said to you… I am… crying and you know how much I hate crying in front of you and mommy- he spoke, breathing heavily -… and I regret each moment not spent with you and your beautiful mother, I regret the horrible words I spoke to you, and I will vow my life to make it up to you-.

Angelique came out slowly and she sprinted towards her, hugging her close and she immediately whispered shyly in her ear, comforting words, meanwhile the child cried in her arms, and Duncan stared at her; he clearly wanted to join them but he also didn’t want to break the newfound harmony and settled for messaging the security and the police to let them know that they had found Angelique.

-You got us so so so worried, lovely- she hugged the child closer to her, before pushing her back in order to look at her in the eyes -Never do that again, for the sake of my heart-.

The child nodded slowly and dove in for another hug, and she searched the playground for Duncan who was now up near the slide, cleaning his face from the tears, erasing each testimony of them.

It was a truly heartbreaking moment, and she couldn’t help but move her child closer to her, to whisper in her ear:

“Sweetie, go and hug your dad, he needs it, she suggested, gently kissing her forehead and pushing her gently towards him, and although the child was shy, she managed to hug him, immediately adverting his attention from the phone and hugging his daughter back, putting himself to her height and engulfing her in a bear hug, mumbling about how sorry he was.

In the end, Angelique ended up being so so tired with everything that happened that she fell in Duncan’s arms and stayed there for the entire time, meanwhile she drove them to her mother’s house, the woman took Angelique from Duncan with the justification of both privacy and to let Angelique sleep.

Duncan looked like he had aged ten years overnight, and she couldn’t help but caress his face, tenderly, something she did every time she needed to comfort him, with him catching her hand to hold it there before gently kissing it.

-I really messed up- he mumbled, more a question than anything else.

-… at least this time you didn’t end up in prison- she joked sarcastically, meanwhile he did something that resembled a smile with his lips.

-Well it is worse, I let down the women I love- he replied, charming her with a sad smile and those words: Gosh he really really meant them.

-… then all you have to do is get back in our good graces is…- she replied, gently letting his hand go -… less work, more communication and family time; I know that you are constantly busy, but you have employees for that, Duncan, believe me-.

He nodded, reaching again for her hand and bringing it to his lips, soft-spoken deal between them.

-I love you, angel of mine-.

-I love you, too, stupid workaholic of my heart-.

[miyiee]

〆WHEN TEA SPILLS  ⑈ ☕

**            **(Job a cafe’)   Prologue: (Wholesome-story, this story took place in youth.)

      Written by Miyie 〴☕

** **(1/4)   <Also I would like to say, before I began, this was actually a real dream I had. Written in behalf of this sweet dream AHH!~>

Welcome,   Welcome  To our cafe’   ! “What would you like?” ** ** A cup of tea, Made with the finest  Honey and herbs You could ever imagine Dear reader,  I am very sorry,  but my hands are very tired :/ Please if you could do me a favor,  Add a pinch of brown sugar in my cup of tea And help me with my next request,  the next after that one too. Request for brown sugar Yes              /             No “HEY! I SAID BROWN SUGAR, WHY’D YOU GIVE ME WHITE SUGAR? ARE YOU BLIND?” Sorry about that- But- Thank you for helping though…  Now, may you now add three tree leaves in? Request: Three Leaves Yes              /             No Thank you…  wait- did you just say no?  “Do you wanna die?” “Try to be nicer to your customers, Misami.” “Alright, finee!” Now, I have one more final request  Please, add the ingredient ‘DNA’ into the drink before I go... Request: DNA  Yes              /             No Thank you for donating to our cafe.  Have a nice day..  A ring of bells follows as you walk out the door.

She was dreaming again. Standing in the middle of absolute darkness, not even a hint of light or colors to be seen in sight. It was a world without substance. A world of nothingness. No value. Then, she would awoke, realizing she was in a dream. A dream where time was stagnating and moving slowly, where the reality was blurred, vivid perhaps. Where everything seems endless and hopeful. There was nothing to do.. And so.. She waited…. And waited. And waited. And waited. And then…. The girl finally heard it.   It was the sound of someone laughing in the corner, along with a girl, fainted at first, but then it had started to become gradually louder and louder, approaching the box. Then, both the boy and the girl had already disappeared.  Please… make it stop….she pleaded. The rest of the day, continued in silence, this wasn’t anything new. During the restless and chatter-filled classroom, “Hey?! Did you hear?!”a student spoke. “IKR!”, another one answered. “HA! Gay!”, another one followed. “Boomer.”, then another. “Tch…”,she ignored all the commotion around her. And… during lectures, did as she was told, all she did was jot down notes she was able to hear. She didn’t speak with anyone. She didn’t speak a single word. She was completely quiet. No one approached her, thus helped her in need, therefore she felt she didn’t need to care for anyone else. This was nothing new.  “What a lonesome experience.” After class, she quietly heads outside. Then, she started to walk, again, picking up pace…. Hey, Hey!? Did you know? 10 minutes down from this street. With a single turn to your left, passed the 4th lamppost. She, her feet lead her down this familiar path that awaits her everyday, dragging her body, but- the place that she was heading to was a place most people would never necessarily notice at first glance. It was… what was.. A place that had calmed me.. A place where I was supposed to be able to breathe, It was.. A place where I could forget everything. No, it was just a cafe, a small cafe, nested in between a flower shop and apparently what was now an abandoned building, far up, above, in the mountains.  The quiet chime of the bell echoed faintly as I stepped inside. A gentle sounding piano piece that played from the speakers. The familiar aroma of cocoa that awaited walted throughout the warm atmosphere of the room.  Aside from him, there were only a few customers in the cafe, all of them, immersed in their own little bubble of silence. One was reading a book. The last one, calmingly taking sips of his tea. This cafe was always encased in a comforting stillness and young peace. This was what I’ve always loved about this place. It’s warm here, you know?  At the front desk, she asked for the same, usual. A tall glass of herbal tea, please!, she said. The cashier would always smile at her, the same caring smile that was her offerings everyday as she just took her order, walking away. Then, she would always take the same seat, by the window, alone, staring at the clock just above the wall, watching its arms move in a steady rhyme. Afterwards, she would take a book out from her bag, the same old one from the library, opening to where she has left off from. Little by little as the time passed by, with a quick glance back at the wall again what had told her that “2 hours had already passed”. Outside, the sky has now dimmed. The bells that started to distance as another customer entered and left. But- with the soft melody of the music still hummed quietly and faintly. Uneaten bits of the cake, left untouched. The remains of the warm tea had already turned cold. After a few more minutes of stalling around there, she turned to look at the window, yet again. “It was time to go,” the clock spoke to her.

One luminary clock against the sky, proclaimed that time was neither wrong nor right. I have looked down the saddest city lane. Out and back in rain.  I have outwalked the furthest city light. But- I have been one acquainted with the night.

Of course, she didn’t want to.  But- it can’t be helped.  From that cafe, she began to walk home, strolls tooks more time, this time, it took up to 20 minutes. That’s when she finally arrived at the foot of her apartment, from walking all those steps up, quietly opening her door, then she slipped inside. Not even bothering saying the words, “I’m home,”it was pointless, she didn’t need to... because after all, who would answer back? At, that night, she had slept, she had the same dream again. Whenever she woke up,  her head started to throb painfully. In the mornings, she went to class. In the afternoons, she stopped by the library. After classes, she goes to that cafe again. And, when night appeared, she walked home. Slepted. She woke up by the mornings, its universe she hated. It was the universe she once loved. Sighing, the only thing that greeted her was silence. The house was empty, just like how it had always been. She quickly made toast and took a milk carton from the fridge before changing into her uniform. It took her a few minutes before she found herself at the doorstep of her house. And with that, she left. Then, the cycle repeats all again. Months passed, just like this. It was a never ending loop, tiring. Then, she thought to herself, time will only tell. That, these people will never change. Nothing changed. Nothing will. 

“Well, would you like it too?”

“I..-I… I don’t know.” 

Then, one day… .it happened. On monday. Classes were over, done for the day. She headed to the cafe. She ordered the usual, she noticed a new face behind the cashier. 

She offered a mandatory smile, “Welcome to the cafe!”  

“Ah, How--Annoying.”, she thought.

[2/4]

Chapter 1:Crush ?

The next day….  And it’s still as busy as ever… 

You begin to sigh again…

Ding-Ding Ding! 

You heard the bell say….

When does this job ever pay more? You thought. 

Why do I have to keep up with such nosy customers?

Why can’t Misami just fill out for me instead?

“Oh well… I guess it can’t be helped.”

But… something seems a bit off today. Nobody was around, not even customers, usually it’s pretty busy here. well that’s what I thought..

I turned around… and there was suddenly someone standing there…

Smirking at me….

It only took me a quick second to analyze the person... 

There was a boy wearing a hat, a gakuran with gold buttons with a long white sleeved western shirt underneath the red hems, black shoes, red socks.  2 white hakujoudai, one with pink and another with blue markings. His left cheek had a white seal with the word ``seal”. A very short boy with choppy black hair with giant amber eyes glaring back at mines. 

“What-, wait- you’re real?” 

“OW, what was that for Miyie, you know we’ve been working here for years already together..is something wrong?”

“Uh- no nothing at all. Please, do me a favor and slap me.”

The boy’s smile grew wider… into a smirk …

“Oh, of course, I will...and I can...do more than that..”

It took me a while to process this.. By what he meant until I realized..

“Oh wait, I forgot you’re that one perverted spirit that lurks around in the girl’s bathroom!”

I hadn’t realized I said that out loud….until he started to sulk. 

“Goodbye.”, he said. 

“Pfffft, haha!” 

“NO WAIT, ITZ A JOKE, YES, JUST A JOKE! COME BACK, IT’S LONELY HERE:C. PLUS YOU’RE MY FAVORITE CHARACTER!” 

“Where’-”

“AH- ITS MIYIE!”, another person, identical to the first came charging at me like a bull. 

Confused, I asked, “Which world is this one?” 

 “She asked us to slap her :/ Miyie’s acting weird today.” 

...

I resumed reading my book, 

Until, I realized something, something oddly wrong 

‘Wait, where did they both go?’ 

Outside the cafe’ it was rainy. 

But I didn’t care, I ran, 

Far until my legs could not stop.

It was growing late, 

I was tired…. Too tired to stand even. 

That I didn’t even realize they were right in front of me 

“It’s alright.” , they both spoke.

As you were embraced into warm arms…

“Ah- how warm.”

“Shhh,  let’s just wait.”, he smiled at Amane.

pat* pat* pat* 

“Dere, dere, little black cat.”. 

‘Sleep… for as long as you like, as long as it’s 

In our arms :)”

5 seconds later-

“What the hell, Miyie?!?!  Were you dozing off again?” 

I heard my manager called me..

“Oh, it was just a dream after all,” I sighed.

Then you

 looked down, 

And saw Ichigo-mochi sitting on the table in front of you...

As your face grew into a wide smile.

“How did you know?”

you mumbled.

(NOTE: Ichigo-mochi is Miyie’s favorite food)

(Just the other day)

“Miyie-chan!”, Misami yelled across the room. 

“?” 

Misami ran over and hugged you as if she were still a child instead of being older than you.. 

“Ah- what has gotten you so happy all of a sudden?” :/

 “Hmmm?!, she smirked. 

“?”

“Oh- my, MeiMei you really don’t know?”

“Know what?!?!”

You were about to ask but Misami’s smirk really made you uncomfortable. 

“Well, who was that one anime crush you had?” 

“Pffft!, No one, of course, you know I’m not into aliens.” 

“Lies! I know you like Hanako-kun! You’ve been fantasizing about it all day long!”

“NO, I do not!” 

“You do!” 

“NO!”

“YES!”

“But he isn’t even real! I wish.”, I cried. 

“You better buy me strawberry, daifuku mochi after this!”

Chapter 2: Good Morning!

 “scoop 

a

cat 

up

from

the

ground.”

place it on a plate

and put it in your mouth

I don't know why,

but somehow that sign 

has made it there.

Hello, good morning!-

How are you today?⑇

“Hmm… you’re tired you say? Well, I donut care! Get to work right this instant!”

:( 

….Okay fin.”

Today, apparently, one of the machines broke and I was to fix them…

well, … I was assigned to…. :C

And that boy, Amane

There was one part to him though...as my assistant and as a person...

For the past few days, I've spent in class with him,

  I realize that Amane is incredibly intelligent.   At least, that's what I thought at first.

   In class, he could answer any question,  despite not paying attention.  

He's always in a daze.   

His strongest points are math and chemistry, and his weakest, apparently, 

is cleaning.  

 One afternoon,  I noticed him staring at the closet, at the back of the room for ten minutes straight, not moving. 

When I concluded he wouldn't move,  I asked him what was wrong. With a confused look on his face, 

 he responded with.

“..Which one of these is a broom?"   

He's...  He's an idiot.  

And not only that,  

he's a pain in the ass.  

 He is insensitive, as he always points out the flaws in others.

but… I owe him.

...

“Hey, Miyie! Look at my fish?!?”

“Where did you get that from?”

“I picked it from the trash can right outside!”, he exclaimed,

Even….. smiling, Like a dumb child, still.

“HA! Pfft.”

“What?”, he asked, confused and innocent.

Then.. it had struck me, that he had once said,

 he really wanted a fish, 

A real one.

:(, was what he responded.

“Hey, look... I’m sorry, we could always get another one for you.” I said, with a faint smile. 

Hmm….sigh

This really brings me back…

I remembered that one day

The week went by quick 

It was Friday and classes were over

By the time I was finished cleaning up,  

Amane had already disappeared.

It was surprising but, I only knew his first name

My gaze, still glued to his empty seat 

“Maybe I should ask?” 

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Wait, should I?” 

NO!,It doesn’t matter, I shook my head..

With a sigh, I began to leave the classroom and headed the journey home.

People called on me in class, 

And I was often picked on before…

But now.. Nobody really bothers me anymore 

And although I hate to admit it, 

It’s because of Amane

 Almost as if he’s my aegis 

But, what can I say?,

One would be considered 

Idiotic if they weren’t afraid of him

I just finished clearing up 

11:55 pm , the clock read.

Well, it’s getting late, it’s about closing time now.. 

‘Goodbye, have a goodnight.”, my manager waved at me. 

I watched as she walked away…

Not even a few seconds later...

“Oh… great it’s raining outside :( “

I reached for my umbrella but I grabbed nothing, 

“.., wait, I forgot to bring my umbrella today!”

Once more, I sighed… 

Taking a seat at a near bench under the building, 

And waited, 

And waited. 

And waited, 

For time to pass until the rain cleared up...

Without realizing,  I drifted into sleep, Under the rain.

Only a few minutes have passed...

“PSssst!” 

“PsssSt!”

Suddenly I woke up. 

“Oh….?”

I didn’t understand why, 

But the boy just hugged me…

“Let’s just stay like this…..for now...”

I could feel my face starting to redden …. “Umm… uh-, I supposed it-’ll be fi-fine, 

fine then.”  I managed to speak those last few words...

“What do you want to do, wait?”

“Right, now….I don’t feel like doing anything.” 

“It sure is raining, huh?” 

“Yes, just like that time, many, many years ago, 

Remember?”

“Yeah, little cat.”

“Tch, Stop with that nickname, already.”

“But why, does this feel as if I had heard 

those words somewhere before?”

[3/4]

Chapter 3: Stranger A  student, my senior walked me home today-that very day… But no he did not take me home, He invited me, tricked me by excusing me into prepping for our project He really insisted, I couldn’t help it. Dropping me off at a local cafe’ shop. Instead, by the time, we have gotten there, He left there, with the words...instructing me   “Don’t ask any questions, wait, and sit in the seat nearest to the far end.” Without any questions, And I obey. A very wrong thing to say to an inpatient and curious person, My patience is starting to wear thin. I heard a single string of bell chime vibrated, When a short, matted blacked hair and big amber eyes in his first appearance, he wore an identical gakuran uniform and hat to Amane, purposefully matching his clothes. After this, his outfit changes to a Shosei-styled uniform. Wearing a white Western shirt with a black kimono, a grey hakama, black shoes, and red ankle-height socks. He wears a hat, similar but void of any emblem. No words, No hello, No sorry, Absolutely Nothing. Then, his lips curl into a wide smile. “Ah- I see, that student must have been your assistant, you knew you could never reach me, so you went this way of approach, interesting.?” My lips curved into a wide smile. A creepy one, returning it. But, he doesn’t seem like the type to mind. Instead, he kept grinning at me. “Good Evening, Mistress Mei.” “How did you know my name?”, I asked. He doesn’t reply to my questions, He simply just smiles. “Who are you and what do you want?” I paused…:.”.....is  it about Amane?” “Correct, you catch on quick, Miyie.” “I want to know why you had decided to talk to him.” “Because I happen to sit next to him?” “Why?” “Why would you care?” “Because you’re Miyie. I quiet girl, Dealing with everything alone, An unstable mind You’re someone who Prefers to be alone and not bothering And a person like Amane is certainly a person you’ll avoid, But you didn’t.” Uncomfortable... “Awe- how cute.”. He remarked. “Tch! This is really embarrassing ._.  So what do you want from me?” “Well, it is true, Amane is certainly strange. And, you’re right, I don’t like people. But it's not like I can ignore him. I try to but he just pops out of nowhere.” “I only ask you this because I care for him.” As he said those words, his eyes became so dull all of a sudden. 7:30 pm “Do be careful, little cat.” He spoked, in a serious tone. Again with that same nickname! “That boy can lead you to bad things.” I leave, And I don’t look back, to this day.

[4/4]

Chapter 4: Latte “You’re not as bad as they state you are.” Miyie sat there, staring down her cup of latte Watching it smoothly swirl as she stirred it. The two marshmallows refused to go with the flow, And eventually got dunked into the latte “Ah, Isn’t that how life is?” Once you’re not like the others, You cease to exist in their sight. “Ah- I remembered now, There was once a boy, Who changed his future, And said, “I’m not going anywhere.” I took a sip of the latte. While waiting... The bell chime rang “MOrning!”, I blamed. “Hello! Welcome!” “What would you like to order?” “....Latte PLEASE!” Finishing up, my last resort... Break Time! “Why, Why are you doing this to me?” She spoke to herself… “Ah- MIYIE!” “Oh-.”,  he gestured for me to be quiet... Jumped on me like a child .just as always I knew, I saw, from a distance, My manager, and she did not seem happy About us. “Ah--Aman- “ “NO, not Amane, look a bit closer.” Aware of this, he pulled me into a closet Both shut inside. Embarrassed, my head in the crook of his neck. Not willing to look up.. “I am just concerned why you would be hiding with me in a closet that’s all.” “Wow, Miyie, you’re so cruel, ah- how cold,” he pouted. “What are you-,” my words were muffled by his hands. “Aww, why are you with Amane and not me?” as he playfully hugs you, pouting. “That is because you are always with Sak-” “ Miyie, are you avoiding me?” he interupts, his gaze shifting over to you creepily. “Wh-What- N-No,” you hastily declined, but before you could prove your point,   “Well-” suddenly, you hear the door creak, revealing Amane outside of the closet. The person I tried to avoid.. “I finally found you, Miyie.” “Why are you stuck inside the closet with Tsukasa?”, as he gave you a menacing look. This time, both of them spoke at the same time, a huge grin coming from the both of them. “I can treat you much better ᔖ❤” …: As they dragged me out of the shop. “Where are we going?”, I asked. “Anywhere, come, I am going to take you to a place of a lifetime.." ... “Oh…, you ask for my name? Do you really want to know me that badly?”, he laughed. I paused, I nodded. “Amane, Amane ..Yugi.” This time, this time, we both spoke at the same time. “Nice to meet you! :3” “Hey…. let’s go somewhere, somewhere.. Far away.. From this place, alright?”

[Thanks for reading, n’ dropping by haha!] ^^ --Miyie

[fistsoflightning]

unending character meme // zaya qestir

RULES: repost, don’t reblog! tag, and good luck!

TAGGED BY: tagged in spirit by @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING: any and all who want to do it but haven’t actually been tagged by anyone!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Zaya Qestir

NICKNAME: none, really.

AGE: 29 by the end of Stormblood. 30-ish by the end of SHB? Haven’t figured out the time distortion thing.

BIRTHDAY: 17th of the 4th Umbral Moon (8/17)

ETHNIC GROUP: Au’ra; Xaelan

NATIONALITY: Nomad? From the Azim Steppe’s Reunion, if that helps.

LANGUAGE / S: Eorzean Sign Language, Xaelan (crude/unpracticed); understands most languages through use of the Echo

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: dating Thancred Waters??? unsure of status during post-SHB but getting there.

HOME  TOWN /AREA: Reunion, Azim Steppe

CURRENT HOME: A shared room in the Rising Stones or a shared house in the Mist; depends on where they are at the time of night.

PROFESSION: jeweler, weaver, gladiator of the coliseum, bard teacher (appointed reluctantly by Sanson after many a problem with Guydelot’s schedule), adventurer and warrior of light

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Straight and somewhat below shoulder length. Most of their hair is black, but slowly changes to blue and white at the tips.

EYES: Dark blue; navy color? Light blue limbal rings that glow in the dark, too.

FACE: Sharp jawline accented by their scales, often covered with some royal blue facepaint similar to Arenvald’s own.

LIPS: Often chapped, but otherwise normal.

COMPLEXION: Ashen brown? Hard to describe bc of weird lighting everywhere they go.

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: There’s a lot, and I might make a scar map at some point??? Major ones happen to be their legs and their left arm; the legs from Ifrit and the arm from Elidibus in Zenos’s body in 4.5

TATTOOS: None, no matter how much people think the facepaint is one.

HEIGHT: Taller than the average Au’ra, about 5’4

WEIGHT: about 135 pounds

BUILD: Muscular, especially due to their main fighting style requiring muscle literally everywhere. Fistfighting for money is no small feat.

FEATURES: Their scales are an odd color (think black and blue borealis dice, but as scales), and their horns definitely look a bit… ragged. Watching them fight will give the odd realization that lightning sparks in cobalt blue come off of them sometimes.

ALLERGIES: Some undetermined fish allergy. Higiri fed them some assorted sushi once and never did again, so the Scions (and themselves) have no clue what fish they need to avoid.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Tied into a loose ponytail at the back. Sanson often comments how they share a hairstyle, but it’s simply from need of clear vision when moving around for monk skills and attacks.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK: Stoic as all hell. Not used to making full-on facial expressions outside of conversation, so normally looks bored.

USUAL  CLOTHING: Tabards, cyclas, or generally something with flowy fabric that doesn’t restrain movement all that much. Metal boots and gauntlets/knuckles are also common, but not always.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S: being the last one standing, change, losing their younger siblings/younger friends, spiders, breaking a promise with their mother.

ASPIRATION / S:  To have a proper adventure, and to inspire others to live their fullest lives.

POSITIVE  TRAITS: Devoted, comforting, slightly protective, carefree

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Easily angered, impulsive, emotional, stubborn

MBTI: ISFP-T (Adventurer)

ZODIAC: Leo, apparently? Sort of fits, if you look at it closely.

TEMPERAMENT: Some crazy blend between phlegmatic and choleric? Generally carefree and easygoing with friends and willing to spend a lot of patience on them, but unrelenting and downright frightening in serious situations, especially when involving Garlemald.

SOUL  TYPE / S: Server/Caregiver

ANIMALS: Birds and dogs.

VICE HABIT / S: Drinking, although the Echo does prevent it from having any effect whatsoever, so its more of a taste thing? Tends to sleep a lot when stressed, and often spends their leftover money on gemstones for their shared collection.

FAITH: Polytheistic; the Twelve and Nhaama are gods they generally believe in.

GHOSTS?: Yes, mainly because they’ve seen one.

AFTERLIFE?: Yes.

REINCARNATION?: Probably, with how they’re sure they’ve seen someone who was supposed to be dead before

ALIENS?: before becoming Warrior of Light, it would be no, but with the revelation of Elidibus on the moon and Midgardsormr and OMEGA‌‌ (ALIEN‌ ROBOT????) they aren’t so sure anymore.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Does not care enough even though they are staunch friends with Nanamo. Didn’t care enough to try and challenge Oktai for the seat of Qestiri Khatun, certainly doesn’t care enough to take a political stance in Eorzea.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Barely any; just enough to read letters written in Eorzean and faintly Ishgardian (courtesy of Alphinaud and Haurchefant).

FAMILY.

FATHER: there was one, once, but he’d rather he be forgotten in pursuit of a happier future. Zaya remembers him as Baatar, but they don’t remember if that was actually his name.

MOTHERS: Erhi, Odgerel.

SIBLINGS: Oktai (older brother), Taban (older sister), Sarnai (sister), Delger and Tuya (fraternal twins)

EXTENDED FAMILY: any of the Scions (former or current) or their fellow Warriors of Light, if we’re talking found family. House Fortemps, Aymeric, Estinien, Sanson, Guydelot, Sidurgu, Rielle, and all of the Qestiri tribe are up there too, but you know, that’s kind of a lot of gifts to be sending around during Starlight. (zaya totally sends them all gifts anyways.)

NAME MEANING /S: Zaya means fate in Mongolian, which all of the other Xaelan names seem to be based on. Their previous name, Dzoldzaya, meant light of fate.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: Recorded history on the Azim Steppe is easily lost, but if asking around the different tribes, one could learn about a rather prominent Qestiri warrior whose image is painted in some of the caverns nearby where much of important, unforgettable Xaelan history is recorded by the Gharl, swathed in blue cloth. In the days of Amaurot, there was one standout Amaurotine who shared a love for lightning and birds…

FAVORITES.

BOOK: They don’t know enough Eorzean to read a full book, not even a children’s book. The Echo doesn’t help with reading. Urianger has read a book of myths and legends that turned out to be true to them, however, and that has been their favorite for a while. They’ve been considering asking him to read more for them, but that’s been placed on hold after the events of the First and following Mt. Gulg.

DEITY: Nhaama, or Rhalgr, if talking to someone who thinks ‘what’s a Nhaama’ when they mention her.

HOLIDAY: Starlight Celebration. Something about the festive mood always makes them happy.

MONTH: August (4th Umbral Moon)

SEASON: Summer

PLACE: On the Source, Reunion in the Azim Steppe just because interacting with other tribes is rather fun. On the First, Il Mheg all the way!

WEATHER: Clear nights where they can trace the constellations, but it isn’t too cold to need a blanket.

SOUND / S: Excited chatter, harp, singing, small hammers clinking against metal.

SCENT /S: Rain, fresh wood, the air in Gridania, light perfume, Syhrwyda’s food.

TASTE /S: Snurbleberry, honey, most Doman seafood, buuz.

FEEL /S: Soft and smooth fabrics, cold metal, the grip of someone’s hand around theirs, wind blowing through their hair on a warm day.

ANIMAL /S: Yol, chocobo (birds!).

NUMBER: 17, for their nameday and the first year they spent in Eorzea

COLORS: Cobalt blue and indigo, pale gold, soot black.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Extremely good when working with cloth or metal; even more so when tinkering little trinkets. Interestingly enough, very good at playing flute and harp without much practice. Expert at pulling a person’s true emotions out with simply body language.

BAD AT: Sneaking around/stealth. Do not, under any circumstance, give them a job involving secrecy or stealth unless you want it to fail. Speaking/reading is also pretty horrible, due to how they were raised. Also bad at taking change or lies well.

TURN-ONS: Loyalty, bravery despite all odds, kindness and love even when it would be easier to be otherwise, being able to understand other beliefs, and a love of freedom or new experiences

TURN OFFS: Lying to their face knowingly, extreme greed, lack of self-worth, anger for no good reason

HOBBIES: making music with Guydelot and Sanson, attempting to keep a journal, idle tinkering, dancing, gardening

TROPES: Good is Not Soft, Hope Bringer, Magnetic Hero, Omniglot, The Power of Friendship, The Quiet One, Silent Snarker, Dark is Not Evil, Five Stages of Grief, Horrifying Hero, Magic Music, Warrior Poet, Dance Battler, Warrior Monk, Determinator, Pintsized Powerhouse, Pragmatic Hero (don’t let me stay on TV‌tropes pls)

QUOTES: have a snippet of some writing?

Scrawled onto a piece of paper underneath his arm in Thancred’s handwriting and marked with Zaya’s name reads, “Your words, no matter how I react, do not change how I love you all.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1: Honestly, I think there would be two movies that could include Zaya; some comedy musical revolving around Zaya’s bard lifestyle while placing their active lifestyle in the background (called “A Bard Knock Life” bc i think puns are cool) or an action drama framed around Zaya and the Scions living some sort of high fantasy/DND type adventure bc I love that stuff called “The Unbroken Thread”. (THAT‌ QUEST‌ NAME STILL GETS‌ ME)

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2: Something featuring a flute, probably. I got attached to Zaya playing the flute being a former flute player myself. (I only wish the oboe performance sound bank clicked with me a little more…)

Q3: Why did you start writing this character?          

A3: Originally, Zaya wasn’t meant to exist. I was literally planning on just creating A’dewah, Syhrwyda, and maybe Lumelle and Elwin in different roles. Then the Au’ra came out; I‌ used my free Fantasia from the sub rewards just to be an Au’ra (I was a miqo’te before; shh, i was still babu who liked cats) and suddenly Zaya started being formed as Menphina Jewel. Before I knew it, that Menphina Jewel grew a whole backstory and a new name and new friends (Azim Steppe arc of Stormblood MSQ? Final nail in the coffin.) that slowly took over the previous two Warriors as the focus of my attention. I wasn’t even supposed to keep playing FFXIV‌ past HW, dude. I had like a million other things to be doing at the time, but here I am, lying in my grave 3 years later still attached.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character?          

A4: They’re (mostly) mute. I really wanted to explore what it’s like to not be able to talk and only converse in body language, but then I discovered that might be a problem, so my interest in sign language collided with Zaya’s backstory. It also helps me work out a personality without them sounding/looking too much like what I think is Basic Story ProtagTM like I tend to do on accident (see A’dewah and Valdis’s dialogue sometimes.)

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5: They can’t really speak. Funny how the thing I like most is also the thing I hate most. It’s very frustrating when I want them to convey something and then they can’t without using actual words and a voice because I haven’t got a clue on how to convey that through body language. How in the world do you convey ‘I feel like I’m doing arcanist calculations when you speak’ in nonverbal language??? I have no damn idea and every attempt looks like I meant something else.

Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6: The snark, man. I have friends constantly commenting on how I’ve made a burn without me realizing I’ve done so, and it’s hilarious. The love for music also carried over big time, especially after discovering how fun the bard NPCs were to write and how they’d fit into Zaya’s relationship web. (they’re totally the more comedic side, but I love Guydelot and Sanson anyways.)

Q7: How does your muse feel about you?          

A7: No clue, dude. Maybe thinks I’m boring? I don’t tend to want to drastically change things or look for new adventures; the biggest leap I’ve taken in two years is probably changing to a reed instrument from flute, and even then I don’t have to change key when‌ I read music, so it’s not that big a deal.

Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8: Urianger and Lyse, maybe? I like the exploration of repairing relationships after something that might have ended another, weaker bond. It’s also kinda fun trying to see how Zaya would react; they’re a lot more rash than I am in real life, and that’s honestly saying something. Alisaie and Alphinaud, however, are the most fun just because I know what I’m doing when I write them, and it’s funny to see how Zaya reacts (or has a lack of reaction) to their dynamic. Guydelot and Sanson fall into another category of ‘dear god I simultaneously love and hate these two’, while Thancred, Y’shtola, Urianger, Syhrwyda, Duscha, and Ryne fall into some sort of strong found family vibes that just get me everytime I think about it

Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?        

A9:…Doing job quests or side story quests or even MSQ I haven’t caught up on yet. Watch as I slowly rewrite as many MSQ‌ and job quest scenes as I can in any of my Warrior of Light’s viewpoints. (currently chiseling away at some backstory/before they were Warriors stories after reading too deep into the race/subrace text and lore keep an eye out LOL-)

Q10: How long did this take you to complete?          

A10: A day or two; don’t remember when I began. It was probably when I was procrastinating on homework, though. I didn’t post it until a week later whoops.