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sofreddie · 4 years ago

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Scent from Above 2

Summary: The morning after.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan!Reader

ABO BINGO: Daisies/Fresh Bread/Pine

Word Count: 1,672

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Scenting, Scent Bond, Smut (Use of condoms, Knotting), Mentions of Marking/Claiming/Mating, Fluff

A/N: Attention thirsty bitches...get your cups ready. : ) Each part of this series will feature an @spnabobingo square.

PART 1

Jensen woke with a groan and a stretch. As he moved, he felt another warm body beside him. He cracked open his eyes, seeing Y/N in his arms, neither of them having moved from the night before. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched her sleeping.

Should he wake her?

Should he try to crawl from the bed and let her sleep?

He quickly remembered that she was in heat as she shifted to her back. Her scent struck him, drawing him in once more, his nose drifting to the scent gland in her neck.

He breathed deeply of her, musing on her scent. There was something flowery, like daisies. Something warm and rich, like fresh-baked bread. He breathed deeply once more, catching the earthy undertones of pine. Each layer brought on a feeling of home and warmth and familiarity.

After a few minutes, he decided that maybe he was being a little creepy, and maybe he should try to occupy himself until she's ready to wake. So he carefully removed himself from the bed and ordered breakfast via room service, not thinking it wise for them to be apart or in public in their conditions.

Jensen took a quick shower and dressed in a t-shirt and track pants just in time for the food to arrive. As he removed the lids and the aromas filled the space, Y/N stirred awake.

"Good morning," Jensen beamed at her as she shuffled into the main seating area of the suite.

"Morning," she blushed at him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her and he silently reminded himself it was only the beginning.

"Are you hungry?" he offered, gesturing to the cart, "I didn't know what you liked, so I got a little of everything."

She smiled warmly at him, "Could I take a quick shower first?" she asked, noting he already had. He nodded and silently guided her to the bathroom, watching as the door closed behind her.

He was absolutely not going to think about her naked and wet behind that door.

As he heard the shower turn on, he realized she didn't have a change of clothes with her. He quickly dug through his suitcase, finding another simple t-shirt and pants. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door lightly, but there was no response. He took a deep breath and cracked the door open just enough to place the clothes on the counter before quickly shutting it again.

Jensen had started digging into the food by the time she came out. Her hair was down and damp, her face free of the makeup she had been wearing. His clothes draped her frame and the Alpha in him felt proudly possessive.

"Thanks for the clothes," she said as she sat on the couch with a respectable distance between them. She was nervous, not sure what to expect, and distracted herself with breakfast, "I'm in another room here," she explained, "Just a few floors down."

"What room? I'll have them send up your stuff."

"What? No," she protested, "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own things."

"It's not such a good idea to go anywhere," he began hesitantly, "And I'm not really sure I could handle it if you did," he added bashfully.

She was surprised. As she showered she thought about the events of the night before. How could she not? She was sure he would politely tell her it was a mistake, it was his rut, anything really to back out of it. But here he was, seemingly still sure.

They ate in relative silence, exchanging smiles and giggles between bites of food. They were both trying to ignore the fact that their biologies were ramping up once more, their urges becoming prevalent.

"Come here," Jensen softly spoke as he tugged at her. She went willingly, letting him guide her to straddle his lap on the couch. He buried his nose in her neck once more, humming in satisfaction as he took his fill of her. She scented him in turn, slowly allowing herself to believe it was real.

He placed a wet kiss on her neck, making her moan. He did it once more, teasing the tip of his tongue and her hips involuntarily ground down against his.

He was so very hard and so very there.

A moan slipped past his lips and Y/N shuttered. It was the most erotic sound she'd ever heard and she felt a swell of pride at being the one to bring it from him. She did it again, slowly and more purposefully this time, teasing them both.

"You want that, Omega?" he breathily asked as he ground up against her core, his hands squeezing her hips.

"So much, Alpha," she replied, before kissing him hard. Jensen responded eagerly, opening his mouth for her as she introduced her tongue. He moaned again, her hips now steadily working against him.

Their clothes were quickly shed, each piece being thrown without care as they bared themselves to one another.

"Condom?" she asked bashfully as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Jensen blindly retrieved one, his face buried in Y/N's breasts as he licked and sucked at her supple flesh. He held it up to show her, still preoccupied. She chuckled and took it from him, opening it with her teeth.

"Wait," he said, finally lifting his head from her chest to meet her eyes after she rolled the condom down his shaft, "Don't you want me to-" his fingers strayed to her core and she shook her head adamantly.

"No," she breathed, "Just you."

She shifted her hips and sunk down on his length with a long moan. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her tightly to him. The breath was punched out of him. She surprised him, he wasn't ready. But at the same time, he was so fucking ready.

Hell, he was ready to take her and claim her in the alleyway last night.

After they both adjusted, he loosened his hold, keeping his arms securely around her. She pulled back to look into his eyes as she began to move, sliding slowly up and down. Her jaw dropped open, the sensation of his thick girth pushing and stretching against her walls amazingly perfect.

Jensen almost couldn't stand the intensity, the intimacy of her gaze. This was quickly becoming the sappiest moment of his life and he couldn't complain one bit.

"J-Jay," she breathed out, adjusting her hips to a new angle and pressing her chest against his. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her calling his name. He groaned and went straight for her neck. After a good long scent, he opened his mouth, licking a line before clamping his lips down to suck a dark mark.

She cried out, her hips jerking, and he thrust up in response, sucking harder.

"D-don't claim me," she stuttered, riding him hard for the both of them.

"Not this time," he reluctantly agreed with a smirk.

He wanted to. God did he want to. He knew she was his and he was hers. But he also knew that she needed time to adjust. That she wasn't ready. That she wanted it but hadn't fully let herself believe it. He'd give her all the time she needed.

She panted as she rode him and he thrust up into her. He couldn't get the angle or speed that he wanted. And he wanted to be deeper. With a frustrated snarl, he wrapped his arms around her and dropped her on her back on the couch swiftly, still buried inside her.

She gasped and he plunged hard, knocking her body up the couch a few inches.

"Yes!" she cried out desperately, her nails digging into his shoulders. He growled and gave her all he had, riding them hard through their highs.

His knot popped and his teeth ached as his eyes locked onto her pulse beating rapidly beneath the taut skin of her neck. Feeling himself lose control, he turned his head, biting down into the couch cushion and growling as he emptied himself into the condom.

His teeth didn't release the pillow until his body calmed and he felt the urge pass. He immediately buried his face in her neck, lapping against the dark purple mark he'd left earlier, his mind letting him pretend it was his claim.

They spent the next few days in much the same fashion until her heat and his rut had finally passed.

"Stay just one more night with me?" he asked as she came out of the bathroom in her own clothes. Jensen ended up having her things delivered after all, "My flight's pretty early in the morning. But we can spend one more night," he pleaded, his hands on her waist as she shouldered her Winchester Bros. branded weekend bag.

He didn't miss the opportunity to playfully rib her over it either.

"I can't, Jay," she pouted. She had quickly adopted the nickname for him and he was thrilled with how comfortable she grew around him in such a short amount of time. He did his best all weekend to show - and say - just how much he wanted her and how sure about them he was.

"If you let me claim you we could take Mate Leave," he grinned.

She playfully slapped his shoulder and scolded him, "I just want both of us to be totally sure before making such a permanent commitment," she said for the umpteenth time that weekend.

"Next time then," he joked, wiggling his brows, "I stole one of your shirts, FYI," he added, blushing, "I think I'd go insane if I didn't have your scent around me."

"I guess that's okay," she said, "'Cause I took one of yours too," she looked to the ground bashfully. He laughed before cupping her face and kissing her hard.

"We'll find a way to see each other soon," he promised.

PART 3

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@deanjensenficsandart

@woodworthti666

@charred-angelwings

#spnabobingo #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen x reader #scent from above #part 2 #smut #a/b/o dynamics

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

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Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)

Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!

A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-.

Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto’s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros.

Iwaizumi Hajime

It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple.

No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent.

But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet.

Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role.

Today was one of those days.

You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.

You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning.

You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps.

And once you had got there, you had your hopes up.

The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all.

But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle.

You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either.

You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well.

As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat.

Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps.

It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form.

“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice.

“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more.

It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you.

“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across.

“7.”

“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly.

You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply.

“What’s wrong with her?''

Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend.

“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business.

“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time.

Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder.

Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.

A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing.

But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through.

“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.”

Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-”

“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”

As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.”

As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest.

The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend.

“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”

“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”

“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”

Suna Rintarou

When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive.

Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.

The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place.

Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.

He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.

He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings.

He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.

Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period.

He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless.

When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....

It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home.

Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner.

“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again.

Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand.

“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting.

He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway.

As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists.

He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you.

“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak.

Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face

(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles .

Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand.

“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation.

As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes.

As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on.

“Rintarou.” “

Yeah?”

“I need your touch.”

Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him.

“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him.

“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”

“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza.”

“...”

He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”

“I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows.

He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.”

“How much?” You ask.

“How much do I what?”

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.”

“It’s raining??”

“Yeah.”

“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”

“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving.

“Rin!”

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period.

Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way.

He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying.

“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?”

He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad.

He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused.

2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.

But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.

But Bo wasn’t content with your answer.

He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you).

Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “

I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”

Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.”

When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it.

“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!”

You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be.

When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain.

Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower.

Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch.

He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.”

“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.”

“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks.

You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen.

While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.

Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs.

Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face.

“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”

“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”

Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well.

“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time.

“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.”

Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart.

Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face.

He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!”

After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep.

A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D

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magioftheseas · 3 years ago

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A Smile In Fragments

Summary: When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream, maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry, or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.He got that in the worst possible way.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suicide attempt which results in copious gore.

Notes: This is another old-ass wip that I finished up and posted, which means it was written pre-dr3. Back in the day, I was curious about Amnesiac Komaeda AUs set post-sdr2, so I tried my hand at it. This is what happened. Yeah. It’s, uh, pretty rusty but I guess I have some amount of fondness for it.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

Just Komaeda smiling at him was enough to make him snap.

“What,” Hinata snarled, stalking forward as the boy in the sheets faltered. That damn smile wilted but Hinata only felt his anger flare burning hot before his eyes. “What the hell were you even thinking?”

Komaeda hesitated to answer and Hinata loomed over him, fists shaking at his sides and glare absolutely poisonous. That the other couldn’t dignify him with some self-righteous answer was even worse. “Do you even understand the shit you’re in right now? Did you honestly think pulling that stunt would make anything better? I was trying, alright? I was trying to help you only for you to just...”

He stopped, trembling with fury and unable to even say it as he shut his eyes. Komaeda made a noise. A familiar sound that has Hinata nearly lose his temper and commit an act he’d regret... But instead, he lets out a heavy sigh and gives Komaeda a look of disgust.

His look drops when he sees how Komaeda’s reacting—how he’d been reacting ever since Hinata started yelling at him.

Komaeda looks terrified—sincerely, purely scared in a way that Hinata had never seen before. He’s back against the wall, knees tucked between them like a barrier and arms pressed close against his chest. His body’s wracked with tremors, his eyes wide like a child’s, and Hinata’s anger utterly dissipates back into worry.

“Komaeda...?” he asks, voice softer with a bit of a waver. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m... I’m sorry...” Komaeda manages just as the nurse bursts in.

“Hinata-san,” she says and Hinata has to tear his sight away. He hears Komaeda stifle a sob, and the seriousness in the nurse’s eyes doesn’t stop him from flinching. “We need to talk.”

When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream—his plan failed after all, tremendously so because not only were they all still alive, but he was still alive as well...and the only person who really died was never living in the first place—or maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, but how likely was that—or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.

Instead, Komaeda shut down as soon as he woke up. He shut them out.

He was in poor condition upon waking and needed to be nursed, so it didn’t require much effort on his part. The rest of them avoided visiting him, too, except for Hinata who was desperate enough to want something...and maybe a little bit anxious because he remembered the last time they left Komaeda alone to his own devices. Not that it mattered, because even when Hinata tried to be polite, Komaeda seemed content to ignore his existence. Like he really was the Ultimate Nobody.

It made him angry enough to stop trying. But he still worried—that traitorous niggling feeling digging under his skin like a parasitic worm and aggravating him to the point where he felt like he was going to go insane. But there was nothing he could do, right, if Komaeda wasn’t going to acknowledge him—there was nothing he could do...

But, god, desperately and shakily pressing torn bits of fabric to Komaeda’s head in a frenzied attempt to stop the bleeding—if there was really nothing he could have done to prevent this...

“Don’t, please don’t die,” he begged, heart pounding. He already called Naegi in hysteria but Hinata was terrified at the bleak, real possibility that it’d be too late. Komaeda’s eyes were already fluttered shut and blood was still pulsing and slicking his trembling fingers. “Please, Komaeda, stay with me, stay with me... I-I can’t...”

It’s only by the time the others get there that Hinata realizes he’s been crying. He tries to wipe the tears away but ends up smearing Komaeda’s blood on his face instead. In seconds, he’s hyperventilating as Naegi takes his shoulders and murmurs to him: it’ll be fine don’t lose hope Komaeda-kun will be fine, you saved him Hinata-kun it’ll be fine...

In the end, Komaeda is saved. Hinata washes away his blood from his hands. And when Hinata hurries to go visit him, Komaeda turns and gives him a smile.

Komaeda smiled at him again when he entered. But this time the smile was tinier, more fearful—and the more Hinata thought about it, the more the smile from before seemed more for the sake of platitude. And yet he got angry.

This wasn’t the time to feel guilty over it. But he should...

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I...” I wasn’t aware of your condition. But I say something like that, and he’ll know I meant it. The yelling part. I did mean it. But I wouldn’t have been like that if I knew... Does that even mean anything? Does apologizing mean anything? What am I supposed to...? “I’m sorry, Komaeda. Do you really not...”

“I forgive you.” Komaeda’s smile was still meek, but also a bit wider, and Hinata didn’t know if that was good or not. He shouldn’t get conceited when Komaeda still seemed so unsure and insecure. “From what I can tell, I think I’m at fault too... You did say you trying to help me, so... Ah, it’s fine. I just ended up startled, because...you know...”

It’s not like you would even know why I’d lose myself like that... You don’t even know who I am anymore... And it’s weird that he’d be so sheepish about it, too, because it’s not like Komaeda chose to conveniently get retrograde amnesia when he did. Hell, the amnesia thing was probably the furthest thing he was aiming for and that was...

Just fine. As far as Hinata was concerned, when things don’t go Komaeda’s way is preferable to otherwise. Komaeda’s way was twisted and distorted and could invariably lead to disaster. Hinata was aware of this from experience, though he was also aware he didn’t fully understand it. It was entirely possible he never would. Still... “Is there anything you want?”

“Huh?” Komaeda looked at him, his head at a bird-like tilt and wide doe eyes. “I’m...sorry? I don’t know if I can answer that question easily...especially when I’m not entirely sure if I can trust you. Yet, at least.” He looks almost apologetic and Hinata really doesn’t get that either. But finally, Komaeda’s looking a bit bright again, and it’s more of a relief than he cares to admit. “So the nurse did explain what’s wrong with me, right? Recently wrong, I mean. There were problems before... Ah, but I don’t know if you know about that so I’ll just stop here. Did she tell you or not?”

“You don’t remember,” Hinata states it bluntly, his throat thick as Komaeda nods in response. “You’ve experienced trauma that resulted in you losing your memories. You... You don’t remember me anymore, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Komaeda says, his smile sad. “Nor do I remember how I got here. But I’m not completely a blank slate if it means anything! I remember some things that happened to me before—like once, I had a dog? Ha-ha, something like that... There are still holes in the memories, sadly, but at least they’re still there. If it helps, I think one of the last things I remember is getting an acceptance letter.”

“An acceptance letter? For where...?” Hinata was already dreading the answer. Komaeda chewed on his lower lip with a soft hum.

“Some esteemed academy... But I don’t recall the name...”

“Was it Hope’s Peak?” Hinata’s stomach drops. “Y-You...don’t remember Hope’s Peak?”

“Was that the name of the school? That sounds about right.” Komaeda didn’t sound so sure despite his chipper tone. “Sorry, my memory stops there. But since I’ve been diligently explaining my delicate situation, perhaps you could fill me in a bit on the things I don’t know? It’d only be fair, after all...” He holds up his left wrist, tracing the bandages around the stump as he observes it in plain curiosity. “I’m not entirely sure how I got this. The nurses won’t tell me and to be frank, I highly doubt it was from the incident that resulted in my amnesia. It’s a bit healed over and... I think that acceptance letter was a while ago...before this. I’m not sure, but do you know?”

“I-I...” Hinata hesitates, blatantly. “I-I wasn’t there...when you lost it... S-Sorry...”

“So you don’t know? How disappointing.” Komaeda sighed. “Isn’t that so unfortunate? How am I supposed to write? My handwriting’s awful enough as it is and... Oh. Right. Your question. No, I don’t remember going to school at all. I just remember getting accepted.”

“Do you remember anything after that?” Hinata asks. “Like...your classmates? School assignments? F-Field trips?”

“Hm. Those are some generic questions. I get the feeling you’re hiding things from me...” But Komaeda grinned cheekily as Hinata froze for a moment. Komaeda laughed it off like it was no big deal. “Ah, it can’t be helped. But no, sorry. I barely remembered the school’s name after all. Oh, wait, I do remember being on a boat... Actually yeah. I was on some kind of boat.”

“Do you like boats? You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Hinata blinked hard to dispel the image, but Komaeda turned to him with realization clear in his gaze and face lighting up. “That’s right! You were there, weren’t you? You have the same eyes from earlier, though I see you cut your hair... Funny, didn’t you never want to see me again? You were quite cold, you know...from what I remember. What else were we discussing?”

“It’s not important,” Hinata says, voice quick and thick. “None of those things are important anymore. I didn’t mean anything I said back then. That... That’s not me anymore, so you mustn’t worry.”

“Oh...” Komaeda looks a bit disappointed, but still a bit hopeful. “Um. I don’t remember you introducing yourself...”

That’s because I didn’t. Not back then. I didn’t deem it important.

“What’s your name again?”

Hinata swallows. “Hi...Hinata. Hajime Hinata. I was...” Your classmate? But that’s not true, is it? I was never in that...

“My friend, right?” Komaeda asks, and Hinata’s chest seizes up for a moment. And Komaeda looks bashful too, rubbing at his shoulder with a light blush on his face. “I really am sorry... I must have worried you a lot to make you so angry... Though I don’t know how good my words are when like this. But really, I sincerely appreciate you caring so much. Especially since our first meeting didn’t go so well... But since you’ve changed, I guess... We’re friends now?”

You’ve got that wrong. I didn’t understand you. I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Even though you’re alive now, I feel like things have never been more complicated. I don’t know what we were, but it sure as hell was not...

“Or I’m wrong,” he hums, halting Hinata’s thoughts with a self-effacing sigh. “For all I know I could have just been a troublemaker you got saddled with. Isn’t that more likely?”

Hinata doesn’t answer, but Komaeda gives him another sincere smile that takes his breath away. “But I still like you, Hinata-kun. You must be a really kind person to worry so strongly over someone like me. I don’t have to remember our exact relationship to notice that; especially when you were so fired up earlier. I’ll try and do my best, so don’t fret so much, okay?”

I...I may never understand this person...

“I don’t want to go back.”

The words were simple, clear, and concise. And yet, they didn’t make any sense at all.

“Komaeda,” Hinata groaned, reaching for the other only for him to avoid his hand. Komaeda’s stare remained—those same wide doe eyes and lips pulled into a neutral straight line—but Hinata grew more agitated by the minute.

The wind blew, ocean waves crashing below, and when Hinata’s eyes drifted from Komaeda, they landed immediately on the edge of the cliff not too far behind the two. The idea appeared in his head and soon sank to his gut, and Hinata nearly begged as he attempted to grab Komaeda. “Come on...!”

“If you’re going to take me back,” Komaeda murmured, face unreadable as he continued to evade his swiping hand. “Then I have no choice.”

“Please, please don’t...”

“Hinata-kun.” It was the first time Komaeda had said his name in months, and it sounded raspy. Awful. Hinata hated the way Komaeda said his name. But he still missed it. And that just made it worse. “What do you think will happen? Good luck or bad luck? Make a prediction—just like you did the first time we met. Hopefully, you won’t be wrong like last time.”

Hinata shouted his name, fear breaking through his anger as he launched himself forward towards the other. He missed Komaeda by mere centimeters and he only saw a blur of white and blue before there was only the barren cliff before him.

Whatever shock he would have gone into was shattered when he heard the soft, muted impact from several feet below.

“Oh good morning, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda brightly greeted him, waving his good hand once he saw Hinata standing blankly in his doorway. Hinata wasn’t sure how he looked, and Komaeda gave no comments to it, but there was a slightly concerned way to how Komaeda tilted his head and smiled a bit more. “It’s a bit early... Is something wrong?”

“...Nightmare. I had a nightmare.” With those words out, he stumbled to get close, nearly tripping in his haste to reach out and grasp Komaeda’s still elevated hand. He squeezed it once, briefly, and pulled his hands back to wipe his clammy palms off his pants. “Sorry. I... I just had to make sure for a moment.”

“It’s fine...” Komaeda pulled his hand close, curling it against his chest. His worried smile remained on his face, and Hinata tried not to stare at the bandages wrapped around his head. There were scars there before, from previous hospital trips, and Hinata can only imagine how much worse they’d look now with where his head had bashed on a rock.

“Um... Hinata-kun?”

Hinata’s gaze snapped back.

“I’m sorry,” Komaeda spoke with such ease, and yet, so much regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I just... I feel like I should beg you for forgiveness.”

You should, but I won’t be happy when you’re like this. It’s...

It’s fine.

“Komaeda...”

Even if I won’t ever understand, even if we’re just back at square one again... Even so...

“I should’ve said this earlier,” Hinata said, forcing a smile. “Welcome back.”

Komaeda blinked at him, but he smiled once more. It actually wasn’t half-bad. It might’ve even been a little lovely.

I can keep trying a little while longer.

#KomaHina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #sdr2 #HinaKoma #Magi fics #suicide tw #sdr2 spoilers #I guess

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thoubaguette · 4 years ago

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Info about this guy

I assume we all have seen this guy before, right? In the Addict MV. Now who exactly is he and what’s he gotta do with Cherri? After a while of digging, I found this

The drawing is made by ‘ kendraw ‘ on tumblr, posted on November 30th, 2013. If you can’t read what it says, It reads:

kendraw: $15 couple commission for Vivz of her characters Diza and Izzi!

Vivziepop: AHHHH! First ever time seeing them drawn! so worth it, It’s honestly like so super cool seeing them so different! The clothing and all just so interesting to see, and the poses <3333 I love this thank you! well worth it <333

It’s possible he might’ve gotten a name change, but it appears this guy’s name was Izzi! Also proven by comments years ago:

(Taken from Vivziepop’s Terror Time Speedpaint in 2016)

Along with many other blogs and the such refering to him as Izzi, and Viv never denied it.

So, who exactly is this guy? What does he do?

It seems that back in the Zoophobia days, this guy was a poacher!

And you all thought to worry about Val getting his hands on Fat Nuggets, hm?

I would now like to go back to this post,

Notice how ‘ kendraw ‘ says couple commission? I feel that this basically confirms that these 2 characters were in a relationship.

And doesn’t the girl in pink look INSANELY similar to Cherri bomb?

I don’t know about you, but I think this is hinting at Izzi and Cherri being in a relationship ( Or was at least in Zoophobia). In my very humble opinion, I think it’d be a bit weird to have a family member in a sexually charged MV, on what could be taken as a love lyric. So I don’t necessarily think that Izzi is her brother/father.

You might be saying ‘ oh but they look reaallyyy similar ‘ n stuff. Well,

I think the reason why demons would take similar demon forms would either be because of

How closely associated they were with one another

What sins they committed

The way they died

Notice how in the pilot, Nifty basically spawns out of fire? And her ALSO being a cyclops, just like Cherri bomb? And Cherri bomb’s whole thing is blowing stuff up? Relating to fire?

I don’t know about you, but there definitely seems to be a connection there.As for Angel’s family, they were all mobsters/gangsters, and were in a Mafia. They were VERY closely associated with each other.

And assuming that Arackniss overdosed on crack, Henroin, Heroin, they all died in relation to drugs, similar deaths.

Anyways, It was confirmed for Cherri to be Australian, In the Australian Wild Fire Stream, ( 2:53:25)

Viv mentions that she has a character in her story line who already was Australian, (that’s 100% Izzi and you know it)

And she JUST decided for Cherri to be Australian, meaning it hasn’t really crossed her mind before, saying that it’s a no brainer that they should probably both be Australian. If they were family, I think she would’ve had this already thought out.

(iknowimliterallynitpickingatthisbutforthesakeofthistheoryletsjustgowithit)

Now, to end my post, I would like to say that this could all change. It’s currently unknown if Izzi is still his canon name, or that he’s still a canon poacher. I wanted to make this post to show all past info about this guy. I think he’s an awesome looking villain and I’m intrigued to know Cherri’s backstory

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel izzi #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel theory

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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Fourth Coming

Fandom: The Wilds Rating: T Word Count: 2157

Summary: And on the twenty-third day, Nora ate goat and thought about love.

Nora sees the experiment through two lenses, like the red and blue acetate in those cheap 3D glasses. One lens is the scientific, the other is the brutal. When she puts these metaphorical glasses on, she’s just there, in the middle of it, but when she’s feeling particularly tired (understandably often) or just relaxed (inexplicably often—a fact to be concealed from the others), she shifts between the two views. Each is sharper alone than they are combined.

Scientific: counting the days; subtly taking her own inventory of the rations; monitoring Fatin’s dehydration, the commensurate level of distrust the rest of the group have for her.

Brutal: cold fingers in wet, black sand, disinterring Jeanette’s grave; Dot’s tumbling, shivering recount of spearing and battering a snake; ralphing, ralphing, ralphing bad mussels.

It isn’t until the goat that these contrary perspectives finally attain a kind of beautiful balance in Nora’s brain. And it isn’t her thoughts, or rereading one of her journal entries, that has her mental clouds clearing. Actually, it’s what Leah says. About barbecues and normalcy and the Fourth of July. Leah’s remark—possibly offhand, certainly poisonous, even if Nora can’t see how yet—gracelessly and unselfconsciously reveals the barbarism of order. A social gathering on the same day each year, centered around fire (fireworks, sure, but Nora is amazed by how dazzled people are by something not so very far advanced from what had the cavepeople oohing and awwing) and the cooking of meat. Ritual is the summit at which the scientific and the brutal join hands.

The day doesn’t matter. (Every day could have been June 29th and what difference would that have made for them on this island?) The conditions of their environment haven’t changed. (No major shift in the seasons or significant weather patterns, just the single freakish high tide.) The slaughter of the goat and the subsequent cookout should be put down to chance, Nora knows. Toni, Martha, and Shelby decided to look for food. Martha happened to find the goat. She happened to lay her hands on a tool that could do the job. She happened to be successful. And now, miraculous barbecue in honour of… what?

Nora’s sure that most of the girls would say the feast is in honour of themselves, their power, their survival. All of that would really put a spit-shine on Gretchen’s mission statement, but Nora’s not just an agent, a plant, a spy, a wolf in castaway’s clothing. She seeks to understand as much as she always has. She wonders if Shelby thanks god for the goat, or eats it as a form of praise. Nora constantly spots her toying with the cross on her necklace, frequently in a way that holds it far from her throat, almost like she’s thinking about ripping the necklace off and hurling it into the ocean. That would be going a bit far, but then, so is hacking your hair off because a brush got stuck.

Their ritual could be the sacrifice of another creature in the hopes of sparing themselves—a kind of desperate, gasping celebration. Privately, Nora decides they’re celebrating love. Leah’s persistent aura of tragic romance is part of the inspiration for that, but she isn’t part of either of the two developing relationships Nora’s been observing.

Martha’s picking at her goat meat glumly, so Nora rises and goes over to her. Her gait is unsteady on this sand and on these legs, weakened over the past two days of starvation, but it’s enough to carry her until she can slump down next to Martha. Sweet and strong, vulnerable and clearly capable (judging by the sizzle of fat dripping from the roasting goat leg and hitting the fire), Martha smiles when Nora joins her. Nora smiles back and that’s enough between them for a few minutes.

Nora watches the browned meat, nearly allowing herself to be hypnotized by the texture that urges her to sink her teeth in, the crispy spots she knows would taste incredible. But she can’t gorge herself; her stomach needs to be cool about what she’s already eaten or the chewed up goat goes the way of the slurped mussels Rachel found.

Carefully, Nora turns her head to study Martha. She decides that what this girl needs is the same thing Leah needed on Day 12 when she was sitting alone on the beach: some kind of dirty joke. Since she’s fresh out of filthy material of the Christmas variety, Nora tells Martha, “One second,” and heaves herself up again. She comes back dragging Marcus. He’ll be her muse, but it’s also a reunion of lovers.

“You two could get married,” Nora tells Martha. “Shelby said she was an ordained youth minister, remember?”

They laugh and it’s softer than the crackle of the fire. Nora likes that. The steady, rolling sound of their laughs together. How they taper off, unlike the ceaseless noise of breaking waves that drives Nora insane whenever she surfaces from her numbness to the sound. Like becoming conscious of your breathing and working like hell to stop noticing it, because having to purposefully regulate every breath is exhausting and terrifying.

Martha frowns a little in consideration, then half-smiles.

“Nah. I don’t know if I’m ready to commit like that. I think this could just be a fling. All those abs and he didn’t come help me haul that goat.”

“That’s true.” When Martha gazes at the mannequin, Nora assesses Marcus as well. “And it’s not like you’d want to keep him around because he gives great head.”

“He might’ve once,” Martha defends, brushing hair out of her face when a breeze kicks up, “but he gave so much head that there’s none left for me.”

They catch each other staring at the clean line where Marcus’s neck ends and nothing rests above it and trip into laughter again. Though Nora feels like she accomplished her dirty joke, Martha made it even better. People have underestimated her. Nora’s noted it from the start. It’s probably because Martha was injured. Group dynamics were established quickly and have formed and reformed in the days and weeks since, but Day 1 showed them the rawest version of who they are together and, before they knew about Jeanette, Martha was the weak one. Have the others seen her role evolve like Nora has? Are Nora’s observations anything special, really?

“This is totally not a judgement thing or anything,” Nora says, meaning it. “I was just wondering if you were maybe going to wash your clothes. Or change them.”

“Oh.”

Martha looks down at herself and now Nora’s glad she said something; it doesn’t seem like Martha was really aware that she’s been sitting here crusted in drying blood. Nora weighs the acceptability of a period joke and decides against it.

“You don’t have to,” she assures Martha, raising a gentle hand. “It just seemed like maybe the, uh, the slaughtering process? Was kind of a mindfuck?”

“Yeah.” Martha stares straight ahead and lets out a short laugh that Nora doesn’t join her in. “I’m glad Marcus wasn’t there to see. He might not’ve come back the same.”

Nora peers at her a moment, then resolves to just say what she’s thinking.

“Did you?”

Turning her head, Martha looks at Nora and her smile’s the same, but her eyes are different. No, Nora would write in the journal. The answer is plain. Maybe she’ll record it on paper later and maybe she won’t. Looking into Martha’s eyes, Nora knows she won’t need help remembering this.

“I’m just living my best life,” Martha tells her, batting the ends of her hair with her hand.

It sounds like something Fatin would say in this moment, or at least have printed on a t-shirt or something—it’s flip and glib—and for the very reason that it reminds Nora of Fatin, she’s certain that Martha not only means the silly words sincerely but that she feels the kind of truth in the trope, the mindfulness in the meme, that Fatin fights so hard to experience herself. Fatin is deeper than that ocean over there and Martha is a girl scooping out the sand in front of her mannequin boyfriend, digging him a sturdy trench to rest in so she can lean back against his factory-sculpted physique, painted in the blood of her first kill.

For whatever reason, Marcus is the man Martha wants. Nora can’t imagine him becoming anyone else’s property after all this is over.

“Do you want a lychee instead?” she offers. Martha’s flat-out ignoring her leaf-plate of meat now.

“Maybe in a minute.”

She turns her dreamy eyes away from where she’s rubbing a streak of dirt off Marcus’s bicep. Nora follows her gaze to Shelby, who seems to be counting out and partitioning the lychee haul, looking to Dot from time to time. Dot isn’t interfering, just giving encouraging nods when Shelby seeks them out. And of course Toni’s watching too.

“You think they’re telling the truth?” Nora inquires bluntly. “That whole ‘wrong turn in the woods’ story?”

Martha shrugs and says, “Yeah,” but Fatin scootches towards them, evidently drawn by the hum of gossip in the air.

“Are you talking about Toni and Shelby?” she asks, but it’s more of a demand. Her eyes are bright and excited, her mouth grinning, and Nora knows that a lot of that effect is thanks to their first meal in days, but it astounds her how socializing lights Fatin up as much as it used to shut Nora down.

“No,” Martha says quickly, but no faster than Nora’s flat, “Yes.”

“Dope. Yeah, those two are a hundred percent lying.”

“Are you sure?” Nora asks.

She’s not, but the cameras will be. Seeing the footage afterwards isn’t something she negotiated on when Gretchen made her part of the team. Speculation, though less scientific, is much more fun.

Fatin rolls her eyes like Nora’s questioning the laws of gravity. (She blinks and sees the poster of Newton. Sees Newton seeing the apple. Her throat closes up until she softly coughs it clear.)

“Definitely,” Fatin says. “Even if they were just out there all day picking fruit, it’s still the most sapphic thing I’ve ever heard. It’s, like, biblically sapphic.”

Martha laughs.

“Uhhh, sorry, which version of the Bible did you read?”

Nora smiles broadly and looks from Martha’s expression of brimming joy to Fatin’s concentrated delight. Like she’s on to something and whether or not she’s right is beside the point. That kind of approach makes Nora pleasantly dizzy. She remembers being little, standing at a department store perfume counter she couldn’t see over while her mom spritzed scents on her wrists that floated down to Nora’s nose. Fruit and flowers and anything and everything that could make the air beautiful when a woman walked into a room.

“None, but come on, there’s the garden, right? I know some shit. The marketing for this retreat was super Christian-centric anyway. We’re out here representing the fucking Dawn of Eve!” Fatin gestures triumphantly around at their dismal (except for the goat) camp. “If those two bitches weren’t getting their freak on under a fruit tree last night, I’ll eat my gold watch.”

Nora scrutinizes the girls in question.

“Shelby does look especially glowy today.”

“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s chronic sun damage,” Martha singsongs.

“Maybe it’s what Toni did to those mussels with her tongue,” Fatin acknowledges frankly, “because Shelby sure as hell didn’t borrow my hundred-dollar highlighter. That shit got swept out to sea.”

Fatin trains her eyes on Shelby while Martha watches Toni, and Nora watches both of them watch the others. When they switch subjects in a moment of unvoiced agreement, Toni jerks her head up and spots Fatin staring at her. The tender gazes she’s been throwing Shelby’s way over the low mound of red fruit tighten into suspicion.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Toni barks, and a laugh sputters from Fatin as she raises her hands to show she means no harm.

“Ok,” Martha says to Fatin and Nora, giggling. “I see it now. Something happened between Shelby and Toni yesterday. Some kind of hunter-gatherer romance.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve taken the ‘hunter’ title away from Shelby,” Nora points out.

“Well, whatever. Gatherer-gatherer then.”

“With an island colony of all women, it was only a matter of time,” is Fatin’s pragmatic take. “Another couple weeks without an orgasm and I would’ve fucked Toni myself.”

“It wasn’t just time,” Martha scoffs, tipping her head to the side. “It’s love.”

“It’s both,” Nora says. She could prove it to them, flourish the statistics she’s been tracking in her journal. How those bald numbers lie there next to the drawings that spill to the edge of the page. She’s made bedfellows of data and emotions. She just sits there and grins at them. “It’s the aphrodisiacal influence of the Fourth of July.”

#my writing #The Wilds #Nora Reid #Martha Blackburn #Fatin Jadmani #Toni x Shelby #The Wilds fanfiction #The Wilds spoilers

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

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Hi Evoe, can I ask for you to write this MCxVinca fic? The request is where mc made deal with demons by giving up ability to feel touch to obtain darkness and light powers so she can keep up with Vinca and her friends. However, demon magic corrupt mc’s soul. Mc went dark and betray her lover by using Vinca’s knife to kill her so she can become Pride and take her mind reading power. Mc made it looks like it’s from Vuzgamad’s ambush and claimed that Vinca made her a successor before her death

Written by: @evoedbd

PART 3

Warnings for

Bad Language

Violence

Blood and Gore

Death

Part One, Part Two

+++++++++++++++++++++

MEMENTO MORI

“Yvette is going to be devastated when you’re gone, Vinca. It only makes sense that Rae steps up, tries to comfort her best friend. It will be glorious, a love story for the ages. Born of tragedy, the dead best friend’s fiancée becoming the love of our heroine’s life. Of course, they will try to deny the feelings… Afterall, I killed you right in front of our new little Pride, she couldn’t save you, couldn’t save anyone. Rae is going to be so tragically broken… but her feelings will just be too strong for her to deny. Of course, this’ll only be once Yvette is nearly driven insane by her own longing for just ONE normal thing in her fucked up little life. Just like a fairy-tale, Yvette won’t be able to hurt Rae… not after Rae was able to “kill” me, to find a loophole in Yvette’s curse. Perhaps she’ll expose that with a kiss, on the anniversary of your death, over your grave. As if you blessed it from the beyond. Extra incentive to leave your little twin behind.” Vuzgamad’s taunting voice was enough to have Vinca hissing between blows. The demon was so sure, so confident as she lounged in a stolen body, across a dingy chair as if it were the unholy throne of hell. Honestly, who the fuck did this bitch think she was? Vinca would have snapped back, have retaliated, if Rae’s punch hadn’t come so close to connecting, only diverted by her sloppier form. The puppeteer too inexperienced, or the mind not committed. That didn’t render her completely ineffective, not when the shadows played on the edge of Vinca’s vision one moment, and the next she was blinded. She should have been blinded, only the fact Rae was fighting with everything left of her prevented that power unleashing, prevented her from completely devouring the current Pride assassin.

“Come on Rae, SNAP OUT OF IT.” Vinca pleaded between gasps, between punches and kicks. Rae advanced viciously, pushing into Vinca’s guard, bringing them to collision after collision. The safest way to give Vinca victory, but also the most costly. Rae was good, too good, stronger in hand to hand than Vinca. It was only Vinca’s blades that granted her leverage, but she didn’t want to use them. How could she? Every time she did, it was another slash across Rae’s flesh. A cut designed to hurt without maiming or slaying, but Rae just kept pushing. A terminator. The worst foe Vinca could ever face. Her heart constricted in her chest, costing her precious time, lowering her guard a second too long. She ducked the next kick, staggered, fell to a knee. Before Rae’s foot even met the ground, she had raised her second in a brutal kick to Vinca’s chest. Had she been human, Vinca knew that kick would have done more than sent her flying, arms flailing, knees bent awkwardly. There was no time to stop, no time to make the answering blow softer. One foot up, a kick from the ground straight into Rae’s groin. She wasn’t a man, but society as a whole always underestimated how painful a kick to the vag truly was. Sure, women were designed to push watermelons out of holes the size of a lemon but come on. Predictably, Rae locked up with a pained grunt, leaving Vinca free to roll free of the conflict.

“Oh Pride, you sho- NO. Vinc, RUN. Please! I c-can’t…” Rae’s entire body was at conflict. Her voice changed, tone shifting from malicious to pleading. The tears gathered within her dark eyes were not solely due to Vinca’s brutal kick, nor purely heartache. It was the blood of war, blood from a battlefield within her mind spilling through the cracks of a human body. Rae strained; body perfectly exposed. Hesitation. Rebellion. A dare within her eyes. A plea. The perfect opportunity. One Vinca HAD to take. A blade, a flick of the wrist, a bullseye waiting to happen. Until the answering flash of light swallowed the darkness of Rae’s eyes. It burned, a thousand fingers pulling at the fibre of Vinca’s muscles, the molecules in her bones. She screamed, rolled across the cool concrete floor as her soul burned, melted along with the metal of her blade. Said blade fell harmlessly to the concrete floor, bending as softened metal met the hard surface. Severed from Vinca’s soul. Another fragment lost.

“Like… Hell… Am I… leaving you.” Vinca gasped out, chipped nails biting into the concrete as she pulled herself to her knees. Her once bedazzled eyes were now surrounded by smudged makeup, running eyeliner on trickles of blood. Blush complimented by gravel rash. Scraped, reduced to bared teeth in threat.

“There’s still a little bit of me left? Oh, I sound so convincing, don’t I? Nobody will see this coming, never in a million years. There’s nothing left, you stupi-”

Vinca reached, plunging herself back into the muck that greeted her when she reached for Rae’s mind. She was in a canyon, looking up at the two sides, unable to decipher which side of the chasm she should scale, only that the muck was pulling her down. A quagmire. Stuck. Trapped. But one side was crumbling, falling into the chasm, building it and filling it. It was too much, it was going to crush her if she didn’t run, didn’t get out. GET OUT! Get out, get out, get out! But she couldn’t. It was all too much. Too hard. So much pressure. Crushing and consuming. She was going to die. She was going to drown in this nothingness. She stared at two glaciers, but one was crumbling, sheets of ice falling away into the blackest ocean, which continued to rise, continued to consume. Which should she reach for? What did this even mean? Why? Why was Rae’s mind suddenly so different? At the bottom, a glint of iron caught her eye. Bars of a vicious cage ensnaring a lone form. A figure drowning, clawing at the bars weakly as the ability to fight drained away. Vinca was desperate, screaming in a thousand voices, a thousand tongues across conceivable time as she dug. She dug, hands scooping as she dove into the water, tried to dig deeper into the mud. It was so thick, so heavy in her hands, yet slid as freely as water. Like a dog, she dug, arms blurring as she screamed. A handful thrown aside, two more replaced it. It was futile. Like fighting the rising sun with nothing but a Pinto and a lasso. Still, Vinca had to try. She drove the spurs to the steed. She drunk, trying to swallow the mud, digging the water. Absorb it, take it in, anything! Anything to save Rae.

A punch to the breast broke her from the musings, earning an enraged shriek mere moments before she responded in kind. Rae squeaked in a similar manner, horror flashing across her face, followed by a flush to her cheeks. Typical of her, to blush like a schoolgirl the moment breasts were involved. Still, she pushed, using her powerful legs to kick through Vinca’s guard, expensive canvas shoes thankfully taking the brunt of Vinca’s slashes. The harder Rae attacked, the further onto the backfoot Vinca was forced. A punch to the face, a slash to the bicep, a death of a thousand cuts. One cut had two souls bleeding, each worth a thousand words that Pride could never express. A kick to the ribs, a slash across the thigh. Please don’t make me do this. A knee deflected by a hard forearm, followed by a blow to the chin. Please run. A backhand across Rae’s face. Two people flinching. I’m not leaving you.

“You can try all you want, Vinca, but you can’t stop her unless you kill her… then, there are all these demons.” Vuzgamad pointed out, lifting a little from her makeshift throne. The demons encircling them hissed and snarled, making themselves known as Vinca drew too close to the edge of their temporary arena. They kept her trapped, pushing her back into Rae’s range time and time again, but never once harming her. Never causing her to stagger. It was either a leering blade waved dangerously close, or knuckles cracking beneath wicked bracers. A few even simply cocked guns at her, each grinning wickedly as she stepped back into the arena. Back to fighting her heart. It was all a game. A FUCKING game. That bubbled in her veins, leading her next blow to land a little too hard across Rae’s chest.

“You know, this was all Rae’s idea. I admit, I never would have put so much effort into ensuring an entire gangs worth of demons prevented you leaving. A stroke of genius, but that’s to be expected. Rae truly thought long and hard on how to pick you apart over our time together. It seems she truly does know you better than anybody alive, as you’ve said. Even Onyx, bless the girl, couldn’t endure the darkness. But Rae? It’s a pity such a virtue has you as her vice… right to the bitter end.” Vuzgamad continued, pausing to snicker at Vinca’s cry of outrage. A slash across a demon’s throat. It fell, offering no resistance. The sound of a gunshot. A crumpled host. Two more demons stepping up, pushing Vinca back with seething hatred beneath their almost gentle movement.

“Do you honestly think you’re doing anything but delaying the inevitable? By hurting Rae, you’re only making it harder for her to fight.” Vuzgamad’s laughter followed another punch to Rae’s nose, one punctuated by a sickly crack. Vinca cringed, leaping backwards as Rae staggered. With a heavy heart she took aim. A flick of her wrist had a blade buried in Rae’s nerves, immobilising the Chinese woman. Before Vinca could even draw a second knife, Rae’s eyes were upon her, the room suddenly darkened, filling her with a chill that ate at her very bones. It was not simply darkness, but the complete absence of light. All save two terrifying eyes. Eyes which seemed to burn, just like the blade in her hand. Just like the blade hidden within Rae’s flesh. Those powers… something so simple yet versatile in Rae’s hands. Something eating at her humanity. The blade was too hot, burning Vinca’s flesh. She screamed, letting the blade fall to the concrete mere moments before her knees did.

The demons around them hissed and snarled, triumph radiating from the hideous visages. Each and every monster was strong and rested, just waiting to pick at the remains. Numerous, beyond what Vinca could see. Beyond what she could read whilst ducking and weaving. Whilst struggling to figure a way out. She couldn’t fight them all, nor could she leave Rae behind. She couldn’t… couldn’t kill Rae. No matter what, no matter how pressured, she simply couldn’t.

“Accept it, Vinca Wren. One of you is not leaving here alive. Its either you, or her.”

“N- Vinc you have t…” Rae growled, her own hands raised to her eyes, nails biting into her brow as she pressed her palms into her eyesockets. She trembled; a torn flag trapped within a hurricane. A grain of sand upon a landslide, an earthquake. Helpless to it all, no matter how hard she fought.

Vuzgamad was right.

Even if she could beat some sense into Rae, supress what was eroding her, they’d never manage to fight out of this. Sure, the others might find them… but what if they didn’t? Vinca already knew, no matter what, that one of them would be too battered to escape. There it was, laid out so fricken clearly, the trap she’d ensnared herself in. Vinca cussed, tears bitterly trailing down her cheeks. She was only twenty-three. She didn’t want to die. Not here, not like this. An animal in a cage. She screamed, wordlessly, furiously. This was so fucking unfair. She’d given EVERYTHING she had to give. Her soul. Her humanity. Her heart. She’d given everything save the breath in her lungs and it was STILL not enough. What more could be taken from her? Why did fate demand such a thing? Vinca had no doubt Vuzgamad would kill Rae if Vinca herself escaped. Rae was only useful as a tool. For the hearts bound to her… underestimated. As always. Everyone fucking underestimated Rae, right up until she kicked their ass. Fuck. Everyone fucking shat on Rae too, like the most popular latrine in a garrison of soldiers with gastro. So many people passed her up, never bothering to look into those soulful dark eyes, to question what lingered behind them. They underestimated her tenacity. Her intelligence. Her humanity.

Gods, Vinca fucking loved her. It wasn’t just the little underdog scrambling to every victory that was endearing. It was the gentleness in her eyes. How she trusted her heart so fearlessly. How she continued to sacrifice and fight, even when she was almost broken. Even against the erosion to her humanity. She fought. Even when it was hopeless, she fought, and not even for herself. Rae was throwing herself to the metaphoric wolves, willing to die to protect what she loved. Vinca knew Rae understood their situation. She was too smart not to know the moment they walked in. The moment the teeth snapped shut. Rae had tried to shove her own foot into that trap, tried to take the fall, to let herself be slain to spare Vinca an ounce of pain.

It couldn’t be Rae. Vinca realised after one more glance at Rae’s strained features. How her hand trembled, muscles strained as if held taught by ropes from a thousand directions. How desperate she was not to grasp Vinca’s fallen blade. She was so damn beautiful. Dark eyes flashing with her own fury, clarity for brief flashes, lightning of a storm. Lips cut, bleeding with every grimace, soaking her chin. Why? Rae was a virtue in all but power. She was love, she was generosity and kindness and patience. She was EVERYTHING Vinca was not, the counteracting part to a whole that never had truly had the chance to bloom. The whole Vinca would have given more than herself to see recognised. This… this was her heart, already torn from her chest, stolen by the cruellest of fates… but at least she had been given the chance to have a taste of paradise. If only she’d recognised that sooner, instead of fighting herself.

Vinca sighed, slowly rising to her feet. Determination burning through her veins. Once chance. One single chance was all she needed. A way to break through, to give everything she had left. The ring hiding in her pocket, a led feather. It’d always felt so heavy, despite being so light. Now, it was the wind beneath her broken wings, the only thing preventing her freefalling, plummeting to the earth like the lone tear gathering in her eye. She watched, saw Rae grab her fallen knife. Stared over the precipice. She was not brave enough to watch, to see that moment unfold. She had to close her eyes, to let that silly little tear fall as she plunged herself into the murky darkness surrounding Rae’s heart.

If there had to be a sacrifice, so be it.

It would not be Rae.

It would NEVER be Rae.

#answered #anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #vinca wren #vinca x mc #angst #angsty #tw: violence #tw: blood and gore #tw: death #woeful wednesday

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love-sapphirerose · 4 years ago

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Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 19

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-19/.169235

Similar to the last time Yashahime gave Moroha something substantial to do, the insidious stupidity of “Princess Aya's Beniyasha Hunting” can only be truly appreciated if I just describe the events of the story in chronological order. Given the crummy vives that the preview gave off, I don't think anyone was expecting much more than a cheap detour from this episode, but I'll be damned of this series doesn't continue to impress with how little of a shit it gives about being good, or even mediocre, or hell, even functional. And before we dig into this post-mortem, I'd like to field any defenses that people might make about Yashahime being meant more for kids, and thus shouldn't be taken seriously. For one, this is a decades-in-the-making sequel to one of the most popular anime ever, so don't act like the show shouldn't have something to offer for fans whose ages can be counted with more than one digit. Also, y'all know that crappy kids' entertainment still sucks, right? It doesn't just get a free pass for being made with younger viewers in mind. Nobody in their right mind is going to argue that stuff like Avatar the Last Airbender or Steven Universe should be judged at the same level as Caillou, for Pete's sake.

Anyway, “Princess Aiya's Beniyasha Hunting” commits the gravest sin that any work of art can commit, in that it is a completely pointless waste of time that takes the precious minutes of existence that its viewers have been afforded on this earth and just flushes them straight down the toilet. I, dear reader, respect your lives much more than Yashahime ever will, so I'm going to dispense with the “twists” and lay it all out in order: Way back in Episode 1/7, when the girls busted into Hiiragi Dango's place to rescue Towa, they brushed by his daughter, Aya, and got a speck of mud on her kimono. Being a literal psychopath, young Aya then hatched an elaborate scheme to trick the girls and get her revenge: She recruited a band of mercenaries and forced Jyubei to sell Moroha's services as well, and then she established the false pretext of recruiting demon slayers to her father's employment to lure Hisui and his two nameless buddies into fighting the mercs in a big, competitive battle.

These mercenaries are cartoonish morons, and one of them, Lady, is a pretty offensive homophobic/transphobic/maybe-even-racist stereotype, but in one of this episode's few saving graces, it's actually hard to get all that mad about it, because these goofs are pointless and don't really do anything. They spend all night building a wooden façade of a castle on the battlefield for…some reason, and then they all sort of disappear once the firebombs start dropping. No, the demon slayers know that Moroha is the only one that really needs to be taken seriously as a threat, so they recruit Setsuna to aid them, leading to a cousin-vs-cousin showdown for the ages!

Except that obviously isn't what happens, because even though Setsuna and Hisui suck, they're not awful enough to be completely on board with burning InuYasha's kid alive in the middle of a field for the sake of some half-cocked job interview. No, we eventually learn that Moroha and the slayers were in cahoots all along, since they figured they could throw the fight and earn enough cash from the not-actually-real job offer for everyone to profit. Sure, the slayers apparently didn't even tell Moroha about the very real volley of firebombs they'd be tossing her way, but who's keeping track of neglectful homicide attempts amongst friends and family, eh?

It's that throughline of “not telling your teammates the most basic and necessary information” that really sinks this episode, which was already a bummer to begin with. Nevermind Hisui and Setsuna almost turning Moroha into barbecue; the big dramatic turn of the story occurs when Setsuna and Moroha both agree to not tell Towa about the fixed battle because…she's a bad liar, I guess? Except Moroha is the one that lets slip about the battle in the first place, and I don't know why anyone would assume that keeping Towa in the dark would be easier than just explaining that the fight is rigged, nobody is getting hurt, and so on. Even if you bought that silly excuse, the episode still doesn't make any goddamned sense, because once Towa predictably gets mixed up in the fight anyways and mistakes Setsuna's “acting” for real aggression, nobody bothers to just explain what's going on then, either! The episode establishes that Aya can't hear anything they say from her little tower, so why keep up the charade? And how is any of this easier than one of the girls just telling Towa, “Hey, we're going to scam the spoiled daughter of that guy who kidnapped you out of some money by faking a battle. If you want in, cool, but if you can't keep up the ruse, just, like, hang out here this afternoon or something. We'll be back in a few hours, tops.”

It's just so unbelievably lame, and it's the kind of plot that is doubly frustrating because it depends entirely on characters withholding important information for no reason other than to cheaply manufacture some consequence-free drama. Also, remember how the whole setup for the battle was a lie, anyways? Yeah, Kohaku shows up out of nowhere to explain to Aya that he knew the whole thing was a waste of time, except he didn't tell his own crew of demon slayers this because…he wanted them to learn a lesson?

To recap: Aya, a character we've never met, goes to insane lengths to deceive Hisui, a cardboard cutout that we do not care about, in order to double deceive (and possibly kill) Moroha, all on account of that one time she got some dirt on Aya's clothes. Then, Moroha, Setsuna, and Hisui attempt to trick Aya, which ends up being a waste of time since they already fell for Aya's initial trick, and there's a bunch of needless drama with Towa because everyone made a conscious decision to also trick her, even though she probably would have been able to allow the secretly useless and entirely overcomplicated ruse-within-a-ruse to go off without a hitch, if only she had she known what was happening in the first place. Takechiyo even gets in on the action by tricking Towa into thinking Moroha got horribly murdered in her arms. Why? Who the hell knows! Maybe it's because Takechiyo just gets off on psychologically abusing teenaged girls. I'd buy it. Just look at the little creep.

Throw in some harmful stereotypes and a hilariously clunky last-minute scene where Towa gets all tearful over Moroha's safety – despite definitely not giving a crap all those times that Moroha was in actual danger – and there you have it: “Princess Aya's Beniyasha Hunting.” No, Moroha does not transform into Beniyasha. Yes, I'm just as mad about all of this as you are. The only reason this episode is getting a two-star rating is because there's a funny bit where Moroha plays along with the bounty hunters' silly entrance-theme bit. I'm giving it one extra start for making me laugh exactly once. That might be damning Yashahime with faint praise, but with nineteen episodes down and only a handful to go, I'm afraid that faint praise is just about the only good thing Yashahime can hope to earn at this point.

#anti hanyo no yashahime #anti yashahime #anti towa #anti sunrise #anti sessrin

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enigma-im · 5 years ago

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Family Affairs

Rating: teen Relationship: Robot/Female!Human Warnings:

Word Count: 2,211

Tracey goes to a family reunion where someone let lose the secret of who she is dating.

Main story -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"yea, can't wait. Uh-huh, see you all Saturday. Love you too, bye," I press the red circle with too much ire to be comfortable. I sit back in my office chair, rubbing my eyes once I drop my phone to my lap. "Fuck," I shout," Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" I let my hands drop to my thighs, staring up at the ceiling trying to think.

Lost in thought I don't hear the knocking at my door. It isn't till someone sets a hand on me that I notice. Startled, I jump, looking up at Daniel's also surprised face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, love," he hovers his hand over my shoulder. I stare from him to his arm then back again. When did he get in here?

"Oh, it's fine. I was just a bit lost in thought," I answer. I suck in a breath, sitting up to push away from my desk.

"What were you thinking about. Penny for your thoughts, if you will," he grins. My lip edges quirk as well. I stand and head out the room, Daniel following closely behind.

"Just dreading the family meet-up this weekend," I clarify. I head into the kitchen for a drink. Opening the fridge and grabbing a water. "They are always so…much? They are just difficult to be a part of," I take a sip," I'm just not a fan."

I rest against the island, watching Daniel for a moment. Looking at his screen, seeing how his mouth quirks to the side in thought.

"Why is it difficult? I thought family gatherings are something to enjoy," he asks with a head tilt. So adorable the way he gets curious about things. You can always know he is truly engaged in a conversation if he asks questions.

"they should be but younger vs older generations generally ruin these get-togethers. Older bashing the younger's choice in lifestyles while younger resent the older for ruining the world they are coming into. Lots of voiced opinions and politics," I answer. Which is true, I never enjoyed these kinds of things. Aunt Carol generally makes the gatherings fun but ever since she sent me Daniel she has only been interested in talking about that. 'How is he doing, are you treating him well?'' Does everything, ya know, work? ''You should bring him up to the house and let me see him again, how I miss him so.' I don't mind the questions, I get it, but I'd like to talk about other stuff.

"If you are so against it then why go?"

"because I have to. If I don’t then I will never hear the end of it," I answer. " 'where is Tracey? Probably off at work again, never gives us the time of day anymore since she graduated. I just don't understand that girl.'," I mock a elder voice," just a lot of that anytime I get a call. I just need to suck it up and go," I shrug. It’s a simple fact, a family isn't a must but having that kind of backup and community is important. I love them all dearly but I just want them to stop asking when I'm getting married and if I have a boyfriend. I cannot explain to everyone how I'm committed to a robot Aunt Carol made. That would be one hell of a mess.

I'm sure I'm just exaggerating

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

I sit in my car fuming, gripping the steering wheel too tightly with the music mute. I'm too pissed to tolerate any noises at the moment. I go well over the speed limit as I rush home, wanting this day to be over more than anything.

My mind wonders to the moment I walked through the front door. The home was lovely, sitting on the coast of a lake of all places. It just screamed 'I'm rich'. The view makes the get together the more tolerable. Which wasn't enough in this case.

I was first greeted by cousin Sophia, the twenty-something artist of the family. Seeing her accusing face should have been a foreboding sign. Like a picket-sign at the entrance of a dark forest telling others to turn back now. As the main character of a horror movie, I thought nothing of it.

The second person who greets me is my grandmother, dressed to the nines. I go into her group of older women. She is passive in her conversation, hinting at something I'm not getting. She passes curious glances at me, acting like I'm supposed to get some kind of joke. Like an idiot, I think nothing of it.

The beginning of the party feels like all eyes are on me. Whispers behind my back along with snickering. It isn't until I walk in the middle of Aunt Carol's conversation that I get a clue.

She was in the middle of talking about her latest project. Offhandedly mentioning Daniel, making me stop instead of walking by. I stay behind her, listening as she backtracks and ends up bragging about her work on my boyfriend. I don't panic, sitting mostly at the edge of stress. She continues blabbering about the intricate work and how special his A.I. is. I stop breathing when she mentions his capacity for feelings. My stomach drops when she mentions me. Next, filling everyone in on my relationship with a robot, not making me look good at all.

Now knowing why everyone was laughing behind my back, the party gets all the more devastating. I try to rough it out, having only snide comments. I can do this, it's fine.

I was an idiot. Like the dumb blonde in a slasher running up the stairs instead of out the door.

It starts small. Someone asks a question about relationships, curious about a boyfriend I have. Then its like a snowball down a steep mountain. Things go from passive to straight-up vulgar. I couldn't take it.

Thinking back, I dig my nails into the steering wheel cover. The perverts that I'm related to are insane! The blatant disrespect and ignorance were not only hurtful but rage-inducing.

I scratch the bottom of my bumper as I speed into the driveway. I throw the car in park and shove the seatbelt off. I grumble to myself as I storm up the walkway and into the house. Slamming the door behind myself I just barely see Daniel out the corner of my eye.

"Tracey? You are home early," he greets with a smile till I throw the keys into the bowl with too much force. "You ok," he asks, keeping wide breath. He knows from my work tantrums to give me a wide range less he wants to be the target of my ire.

I give him an off glance but storm into the kitchen to grab some leftover pie Daniel made. I grab the whole tin and bring it into the living room to devour. I sit on the couch with a huff and shove piles of pie into my mouth. I sneer at the wall as I chew, not even caring about the crumb falling onto my dress.

Daniel hesitantly walks in and sits on the chair diagonally from me. He fiddles with his fingers, perhaps waiting for me to speak. As I continue forcing more food down my throat he talks instead.

"you look lovely in your sundress," he compliments.

"Fucking Carol," I throw the fork onto the mostly finished pie tin, startling Daniel as I do, "I cannot believe her! You would think her of all people would know to keep her mouth shut but nooo~, she too damn proud of herself. She had to pat herself on the back and tell fucking everyone!." I toss the tin onto the coffee table, crossing my arms as I shake my head.

"What did Carol say," he asks worriedly. I finally look at Daniel, taking in his robotic form. Looking at every wire, screw, light, and hard plastic cover.

"She told everyone about you. Told everyone about her 'wonderful creation that is living with Tracey'," I nearly shout. His animated brows furrow, cocking his head at me.

"Does that bother you that Carol told people about me?" he looks almost offended now.

"I'm not mad about you but what she said about you. She apparently let it drop that I was 'involved' with you. Which led to a bunch of snarky comments and inappropriate questions all through lunch."

"Like what," he asks.

"'Couldn't find a real man, huh? Just had to build one?' 'You do know sex toys aren't people, right?' 'so stuck in her work that she married it, how funny.' Then my favorite from cousin Ethan, 'Do you think I could borrow him for myself? Must be one hell of a lay if you're developing feelings for it.'. Just the most disrespectful shit! Then what could I say? I couldn't be like 'no, it's not like that. He is practically human.' no one would have believed me, just consider me insane," I rant. I'm ready to blow a gasket just remembering the most embarrassing lunch I've ever been to. I even had relatives offering to set me up with their coworker's sons or friends. Like, holy hell!

As I'm stewing in my own anger I don’t notice Daniel folding into himself. I curiously look him over, noticing the most human gestures. He is holding his elbows, tilting his head away, and projecting a worried look on his screen.

"Daniel," I ask softer than I've been all day," you ok?" he glances up at me for a moment, turning back down to the floor.

"Do you wish you had something more real? A human boyfriend instead of me," he asks. His words twists my heart.

"Of course not," I answer. The question, to me, sounds absurd. At first I had the same idea, not till I got to know him did it no longer bother me.

"But," he hesitates," you can't take me out to places. Can't do all the social things like take couples photos with me or meet the family." he picks at the plastic on his arm, his fingers taping with soft clicks. His shoulders slump before he speaks again, breaking my heart even more. "I'm not," he pauses," real."

I watch him dumbfounded. I haven't thought of his insecurities, not even thinking he had any. He has always been so confident, even when he first got here he held himself with firmness.

I stand from the couch, and walk to him. I know just answering won't be enough. His animated eyes follow me, looking up with his head tilted back. I reach out and cup his face with both hands. I can feel the slight warmth radiating from his screen, nearly smiling as he nuzzles his face to my palm.

"Daniel," I start," There is nothing more real or loved than you. I would rather spend the rest of my time with you than have to tolerate a single conversation with another human. Don't you even doubt for a second that I would want some lousy man over everything you have to offer. I love you, and not because I think you are something that you aren't. I love my sexy robot boyfriend." I lean down, pressing my forehead to his. I watch as his eyes seemingly twinkle with admiration. His arms unfold and pull me closer, guiding my legs around his so I can settle on his lap.

"Thank you, Tracey," he just barely whispers. I lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, running my fingers down to his neck to hold his wires. He does his own form of a kiss, rubbing his screen to my forehead. I rest my head on his shoulder, fiddling with his cords between my fingers. I press short kisses to his screen, knowing he enjoys them so.

"Besides," I chuckle," I don't think normal men can turn into a vibrator." he sits up, leaning back to look down at me. He wears an amused but shocked face.

"Tracey, am I just a sex toy to you," he pretends offense," I say, perhaps your cousin Ethan will cherish me more than you are."

I bark out a laugh," shut up. He isn't allowed to have you." I continue chuckling as he rubs his screen to my cheek, groping my hips as he does.

"And no one is allowed to have you," he purrs. I pet along his head, clenching my thighs around his.

"I like it when you get possessive," I grin. He watches me from the corner of his eyes.

"And I like it when you grind into my lap," he pushes my hips into his. I playful swat as his hands, more content at sitting here for a moment longer. He catches on and sits back on the chair, pulling me close to lay against his chest.

We sit there in comfortable silence, holding each other. He pets along my back, tracing his fingers on the part of my spine open to the air. I run my nails over his chest, scratching at the plastic.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day with your family," he breaks the silence.

"meh, at least I have a great boyfriend to make it all better," I smile up at him. He grins back, leaning down for a kiss. Screen meets lips in a heartwarming embrace.

"Love you," he mumbles against me.

"love you too," I answer back.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Someone on my Archive asked for another Tracey and Daniel story. so while babysitting a child who bit me, i wrote this short story.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main blog

#robot boyfriend #robot x human #Tracey Romero #D-4N1-3L #monster boyfriend #exophilia #Enigma-IM

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eggs3123 · 4 years ago

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In defense of Kokichi Ouma

Yo drv3 spoilers if you don’t want that close your eyes

So I find a lot of people hate Kokichi cuz like. He’s a heartless bastard, he lies, he’s hard to read. But ngl I love all those things about him. Minus the heartless bit, he’s human too y’know. Humans are hardwired with these things called “Feelings” that are complicated and hard to understand and slip out when we want them to the least. Kokichi’s whole thing is that he’s constantly lying. Lying to Shuichi, Kaito, Maki, and even himself. Kokichi figured that in a killing game getting all buddy buddy with your fellow participants is the last thing you wanna do. So he quickly distanced himself. He acted disgusting so all the others would want to distance themselves. He practically teamed up with Monokuma just so the others wouldn’t get near him. And he wasn’t just protecting himself, oh no. He also tries to split up groups and instill suspicion in as many people as possible. People who get chummy end up dead, that was his though process. From the start he was trying to end the killing game. And during chapter 6 we find that he wasn’t wrong. Tsumugi framed Kaede for the murder of Rantaro Amami. 1) Because Rantaro was about to uncover a secret. And 2) Because Kaede being the blackened would instill such scintillating despair. When you’re the central figure you become a target to break the group apart. Fast forward to chapter 4 and this is where I find a lot of people started to hate Kokichi. The sacrifice of Gonta Gokuhara was cruel but I don’t think it’s really all the justifiable of a reason to hate Kokichi. He was just doing all he could to survive. If you think he could’ve found some other way allow me to prove you wrong. Kokichi found out pretty early that Miu was planning his murder. He also knew that Miu probably had some surefire way to kill him. She’d rewritten the Neo World Program after all. Miu had mentally backed Kokichi into a corner (completely on accident) before she physically backed him into one. Now I ask you, how could Kokichi have handled this? Option A) Die. No. Option B) Kill Miu himself. Avatar restrictions, this was cleared up in the trial. And even if he didn’t use the toilet paper what in the world could he have used. Huh? Miu got rid of all potentially weapon-like objects except for the hammer. Option C) Outsource. Bingo, now who could Kokichi get to kill Miu? Oh yeah that’s right, most of the cast hates him and thinks he’s a liar. Except of course for the pure soul Gonta Gokuhara. Gonta’s a man who believes in second chances. And third chances. And fourth ones. and so on and so forth. So Gonta believes that Miu’s trying to kill Kokichi and Kokichi decides to use the secret of the outside world to convince Gonta. Kokichi was just doing all he could to survive, nothing more, nothing less. Also if you think Kokichi felt zero compassion towards Gonta I believe you’re wrong. Even a compulsive liar who’s trying his best to distance himself will start liking someone who’s persistent enough in becoming their friend. You’ll notice that after the murder happens Kokichi insults Gonta constantly. He digs into him more than usual. He’s trying to distance himself from Gonta. Trying to make Gonta hate him so he’ll feel less horrible about what he’d done. He’s under a lot of emotional strain due to everything happening. And then Shuichi commits a Perjury against him. Shuichi, Mr. White Knight, Mr. Protagonist, Mr. You shouldn’t lie even if it’s for the greater good. Kokichi even says at one point that some lies are better than the truth to Shuichi. But he completely rejects the philosophy and keeps seeking the truth. And yet he lies to Kokichi. To try and prove Gonta innocent. Imagine that. Imagine being told that your way of life is wrong only to have that fucking hypocrite throw your way at life back in your face. I don’t know about you but I’d snap. And Kokichi sure as hell did. He decided he couldn’t fucking be in that Trial Ground anymore. He was surrounded by enemies and hypocrites and on top of that he was about to lose the only thing resembling a friend he had in this game. The only thing he could do at that point is speed up the trial. So he exposed the culprit. The whole while he’s yelling and screaming at Gonta. Trying to further distance himself from him. The trial ends and the verdict is reached. Kokichi is barely keeping his composure. He just wants the class trial to end quickly. But he has to keep his act up. Kokichi says the line “Then... can’t you accept everything about this case? You can imagine the rest right?” If that’s not pleading, begging them to hurry it up so he can leave and break down in his room I don’t know what is. But when all is said and done, Gonta forgives Kokichi and all his hard work to distance himself was immediately undone. I’m fairly certain that Kokichi’s lines and tears were genuine in chapter 4. Like seriously, looking back on it now there are so many unnatural pauses and out-of-place lines. Like Kokichi admitting he should’ve taken on the responsibility of killing Miu. It’s painfully clear he feels genuinely guilty. Kokichi even asks to be punished as well. I remember when I read that line the first time I thought “Oh christ he’s so full of shit.” But thinking of Kokichi less as a lie and more as a person I start to see that he really meant that. Generally towards the end of the game Kokichi’s actions start becoming less and less about deception. Or moreover. His emotions are getting to him. Causing him to have to struggle though keeping his face on and always greeting the day with a warm “It’s a lie!” Kokichi yells out to Gonta not to go, that he doesn’t want this. Then Punishment Time hits. Kokichi sees the closest thing he has to a friend die at the hands of Monokuma. He’s alone. Nobody trusts him, nobody likes him. He’s completely and utterly alone. Kokichi decides to take advantage of that. He sees a way to end the killing game. So he goes all out, he passes his tears off as fake crying and saying he never cared about Gonta he decides to make his final move. He reveals himself as the mastermind. With the mastermind being known to everyone what point is there in continuing the game. Stacked on top of the fact that the “outside world” has been completely destroyed the remaining characters fall into despair. Except for Maki and Kaito of course. Kokichi figures he’s got a leg up. A weak leg at that, but a leg nonetheless. And he decides to make one final finishing blow. Then chapter 5 happens. Ultimately Kokichi’s death was a sacrifice for the greater good. If Monokuma couldn’t pass a fair judgement the game couldn’t continue, and the remaining people would be saved. Ngl if that plan worked Tsumugi probably would’ve gotten the ball rolling again but still Kokichi sacrificed himself for everyone else. He sacrificed himself so that he could finally have a chance at ending the killing game. Plus, his death was probably super therapeutic for him, considering the guilt he was carrying on his shoulders.

In summary. Kokichi’s an lying asshole but he’s human too. He’s not insane like Syo or Nagito or Korekiyo. He’s just a dude doing his best to survive the only way he knows how. His ultimate goal was always to end the killing game. He may not have liked many of the other participants but that doesn’t mean he wanted them to die. Sure the deaths technically worked in his favor because less people meant less likelihood of a murder and less likelihood for them to regain hope. But I’m sure he would’ve done it after the first trial if he could. But people kept dying and he kept having to hold his mastermind plan for later and instead lay more little bread crumbs for everyone else to think he might be the mastermind. So ultimately please don’t hate Kokichi. Thank you for coming to my TED talk

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particularemu · 5 years ago

Text

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 3

Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 5265

Type: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: mentions murder, suicide, self-harm, drugs, being drugged, weapons (kinda), depression, anxiety, manic episodes,

Tag List: @alightiny

Author’s Note: Shit is about to hit the fan!!! Stay tuned fam :3

As usual, if y’all want to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a message 💖

“What are you two doing?”

Your head snapped to the door, shoulders relaxing instantly when you saw Chan’s smiling face. His dimples popped out, making you smile as you greeted the brunette. “Hey, Chan.”

“You look like you’re having fun.” Chan kneeled next to you and Hyunjin, offering his hand to the boy. Hyunjin shook Chan’s hand, smiling when he introduced himself. “I’m the one who takes over the night-shift.” The man chuckled. “Dr. Bang, but I hate the way that sounds so please call me Chan.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but snicker at the older boy as he stood up. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Bang. How many jokes did you hear your first week?”

“Please. I’m still hearing them.” Chan laughed. “Well, if you’re ready to head home, go ahead. I’ll take over. If you want to stay, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your company.”

Hyunjin paused, wondering what he should do. The next hour or two could be a HUGE opportunity to bond with you. If he could build a solid foundation of trust, Hyunjin might be able to dig into that brain of yours and figure out why you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. It was clear that he gained your trust over the past hour. He was having fun chatting with you about this and that — and well… hearing you compliment him wasn’t half bad either.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about Chan. The man seemed trustworthy, but so did Dr. Henry when Hyunjin first met the man. Who’s to say that Chan isn’t going to get upset and beat you down? He was quite muscular. You wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Despite Hyunjin’s concern, he could see you trusted Chan, and in the end, that’s all that mattered.

Pure exhaustion took over and Hyunjin decided that yes… yes he did need to go back to the dorms and get some sleep. After all the fucked up things he’s seen today, he just wanted to plop in bed and sleep for a good twelve hours. “I think I’ll head home.” Hyunjin sighed and leaned forward, whispering in Chan’s ear while you were making your bed. “She witnessed a suicide today, so watch out for nightmares.”

Chan chuckled a bit. “You must care about her a lot.”

“Hmm?” Hyunjin cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Of course I care about her. She’s my patient.”

“Mhm.” Chan looked unconvinced. “Sure.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, making the younger boy flush bright red.

“Not what you think.” Hyunjin rubbed his cheeks to disguise the redness. “I’m going home. Goodnight.” Hyunjin turned to you and smiled brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

You smiled and waved at Hyunjin. “Thank you. For everything.”

Hyunjin kneeled down to your level and ruffled your hair. “We’ll figure this out. I know we will. Sleep well.” Hyunjin stood up and headed out the door, smiling when he saw you wave goodbye.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hyunjin smacked his cheeks a couple times, wincing at the sting. “I gotta get my shit together.” Hyunjin leaned his head back against the wall, shaking his head to rid himself of the images of blood, death, and deceit. The boy slowly sunk down the wall, threading his fingers in his hair as he tried to pull himself together.

He couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now.

The institution reminded him of something from a horror movie — one of the ones where everyone dies in the end. Hyunjin couldn’t help but curse himself for taking this job. During his first day, he’s dealt with an abusive doctor, creepy caretakers, an asshole boss, and he witnessed a man slice his own throat open with a shard of glass.

And then there was you…

You were like a bright ray of sunshine cutting through the cracks beneath the rubble of this institution. Behind all that anxiety — all that panic — was just a girl who was terrified of what lurked behind the walls. Hyunjin vowed to help you get out of Rosewood, and he was planning to follow through.

Hyunjin sighed and stood up, hoping no one saw him have a small meltdown. The amount of tension he was carrying in his shoulders was borderline painful. Hyunjin stretched his arms, hoping to ease the ache as he left the institution, pausing to wave at the kind-looking receptionist.

Hyunjin took a deep breath, eyes scanning the landscape around the institution. Perhaps he should start taking night walks? Rosewood looked even more beautiful at night. The rolling hills looked as though they jumped right out of a painting, the lush green grass illuminated by the moonlight. As he walked to the staff building with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t help but think about you once more.

From what he’s heard over the past few hours, you were a horrible patient who constantly had anxiety attacks, meltdowns, and violent episodes. Many people told him you were on the brink of insanity. Based on your actions today, Hyunjin couldn’t see you putting up a fight with anyone. If you were, you probably had a good reason to. Hyunjin couldn’t shake the memories of Dr. Henry throwing you across the room. Your body would be clad with bruises in the morning. Too bad Dr. Douglas wouldn’t listen.

Hyunjin pushed on the door to the staff building, pausing when he spotted Minho slumped over by his room, head held in his hands. What’s he doing here? Minho looked defeated. Hyunjin could practically see the memories playing over and over again in the older boy’s head — a shitty slideshow telling him how he fucked up a man’s second chance at life.

“Hey,” Hyunjin gently rested his hand on the older boy’s shoulder, noticing the way Minho relaxed under his touch. When was the last time this man had someone on his side? “Why don’t you come in?” Hyunjin smiled sadly at Minho when he raised his head, dead eyes meeting Hyunjin’s lively brown orbs. Minho nodded and pushed his tired body off the ground, smiling ever-so-slightly as Hyunjin helped him stand.

“Sorry.” Minho’s voice was so quiet, Hyunjin wondered if he was hearing things correctly. His shoes scuffed against the floor as Minho trudged over to Hyunjin’s freshly made bed. “Today…” Minho paused, wracking his brain for the right words. “Can I…” He trailed off once more.

“Of course.” Hyunjin didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Minho was going to ask. He couldn’t forget the look on Minho’s face — eyes full of grief as the needle fell from his hands. Minho lost the patient he’s been taking care of for three years. It had to be tough.

Besides… Hyunjin would rather Minho stay the night. He could use the company.

Minho plopped on Hyunjin’s bed, messing up the sheets as he scooted up to the headboard, hugging his knees to his chest. Brunette locks fell down his face, masking his glassy eyes.

Hyunjin felt for the older boy. He’s never witnessed a suicide before. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine watching you commit suicide — and he’s only known you a day.

“I met with Dr. Douglas.” Minho’s voice was small, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not in trouble right?” Hyunjin frowned. “You tried your best to stop him.”

“No…” Minho sighed. “They’re removing anything breakable from the patient’s rooms in the morning.”

“That makes sense.” Hyunjin leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’ll prevent any more suicides.”

“No, it won’t.” Minho scoffed, an empty chuckle slipping past his lips. “You don’t know what people will do to end their lives.”

“How can they…” Hyunjin trailed off, unsure if he wanted to know.

“I’ve seen a man run headfirst into the wall until he knocked himself out.” Minho clenched his eyes shut. “I’ve also seen someone stab themselves in the eye with a needle because they thought it would be long enough to kill them.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “Are they still alive?”

“No.” Minho took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “They always find a way, Hyunjin.” Minho shook his head. “Anyways, your girl has a glass music box from her mother. It’ll crush her when they confiscate it.”

“What?” Hyunjin sat down next to Minho. “I thought she didn’t remember anything from her past. How does she know it’s from her mother?”

“She doesn’t,” Minho mumbled. “Her mother knew she was here before…” Minho trailed off.

“Knew?” Hyunjin’s heart dropped. “Oh no…”

“Her mother died three months ago when I took over her care.” Minho chuckled. “That glass music box is her inheritance.”

“She doesn’t know?” Hyunjin couldn’t blame Minho for keeping it from you. Telling you heartbreaking information like that when you’re recovering could set you back. The last thing the doctors wanted was another patient losing their mind.

“She wasn’t doing well.” Minho sighed. “At all. I thought telling her would make things worse.” The poor boy felt horrible for keeping this from you for so long, but he didn’t know if you would have a breakdown. “She was constantly in and out of solitary confinement, she was having multiple electroconvulsive therapy sessions a day, and she was trying to attack me with a lamp every time I walked into her room.”

What? Multiple electroconvulsive therapy sessions in one day? That’s complete bullshit! Hyunjin’s mouth dropped open as he tried to process the information given to him. You were suffering from retrograde amnesia. This confirms his theory that the electroconvulsive therapy sessions were making your memory loss worse. Minho’s deep sigh shook Hyunjin out of his thoughts.

“Hey.” Hyunjin rested his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “You made the right call. Do you know about her father?” Hyunjin figured that changing the subject would help.

“We have no idea. We’ve never heard of a father, so we figured she grew up in a single-parent household.” Minho took a deep breath. “She’s about to lose the only thing that reminds her of her family. She’s going to be crushed.”

Hyunjin thought about it for a second. He was right. You had one little music box to remember your mother by. There’s no way in hell he was going to let you lose it. “Not if I have anything to do with it.” Hyunjin reached into the dresser and threw on a hoodie, rushing out the door before Minho could do anything about it.

“Dumbass.” Minho chuckled and laid under the covers, drifting off almost instantly.

Hyunjin rushed over to the institution and headed straight for your room. As soon as he opened the door, he could see the beautiful glass music box resting on the windowsill. The glass sparkled in the moonlight. He could see why you were so attached to it. The colorful glass was a nice contrast — compared to the dark, prison-like room you were forced to live in. The patients weren’t allowed to have pictures on the wall, the room was painted white, and the pitch-black sky didn’t help the eerie-looking room. No wonder you were depressed.

Little did Hyunjin know, eyes were watching his every move as he opened the door.

Hyunjin smiled when Chan waved at him from the desk in the corner of the room. “Forget something?”

Wait… Could he trust Chan? Despite his encounter with the older boy an hour ago, Hyunjin couldn’t shake that feeling of paranoia. Hyunjin knew he was being unreasonable, but he really only trusted Minho. Minho was the one who warned him about this place. Chan? Chan was continuing his work as if nothing was out of place at the institution. Hyunjin didn’t know if he should trust someone like that.

“Dr. Douglas needs you quick!” Hyunjin gestured to the door. “It sounds like an emergency!”

“Oh damn. Okay!” Chan closed his laptop and rushed out the door, pausing to say “Thanks!”

Great! Now that he’s gone, Hyunjin could grab the music box without you knowing. Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as he saw your sleeping face. You looked unbothered by the world — as if you hadn’t been living in a horrible institution for the past few months.

Hyunjin reached out to the music box on the window sill, eyes sparkling as the colors shimmered in the moonlight.

“Why are you taking my music box?” Your small voice made Hyunjin’s heart drop. “That’s all I have.”

Hyunjin’s heart completely shattered when he looked over, noticing the pure betrayal in your glassy eyes. He worked so hard to build trust with you over the past 12 hours, he couldn’t lose it now. “Oh, I wasn’t.” Hyunjin smiled brightly. “I just thought it was pretty.” Hyunjin sat at the edge of your bed, brushing some hair behind your ear as you yawned. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to touch it. I just wanted to hear the song.”

“It’s fine.” You mumbled and rubbed your eyes. “You can open it.”

Hyunjin reached over, grabbing the music box off the windowsill, holding the fragile box in his hands. He gently opened the lid, closing his eyes to listen to the beautiful melody that began to play. Hyunjin felt your head drop onto his shoulder, sending his heart into a frenzy as he leaned his head onto yours.

“My mother gave this to me.” You smiled as you looked up at Hyunjin, noticing how beautiful his milky skin looked in the moonlight.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin smiled. “Your mother has good taste.”

“She used to sing this song to me when I was a kid.” Your face fell. “She hasn’t come to visit me yet.” Hyunjin’s heart broke when your eyes started to glassy. “She sent me letters saying she’ll come. Why hasn’t she come Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin’s face paled as he said, “I don’t know sweetheart. She’s probably sick. The institution won’t let sick people in the building because they don’t want any of the patients to get sick.”

Did you buy it?

“Oh that makes sense.” You smiled at Hyunjin. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s a wonderful person.”

Cute...

Wait, what?

Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he realized what just happened. Okay, so he thought you were cute. That’s not a bad thing, right? It’s not like he wanted to take you out to the gardens for a picnic and oh my god that’s exactly what he wants to do.

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed. He was doing it again. He was falling way too hard way too fast for someone he barely knows.

“I came to check up on you after today. Are you doing okay?” Hyunjin chose to ignore his feelings and change the subject before he ends up telling you how he feels.

“I guess.” Despite being really tired, you were still happy to see the ebony-haired boy. “I’m tired though.”

“That’s fine.” Hyunjin smiled. “Go ahead and go back to sleep. I’m going to head home.”

“Be safe.” You laid back down in bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

As he left the room, Hyunjin couldn’t shake the disappointed look in your eyes. He missed his opportunity to take the music box, despite the damn thing being right in his hands. Hyunjin felt like he couldn’t take it now. You’d never trust him again. Who knows what would happen if he told you about the new rule in the institution? Hyunjin was convinced that you wouldn’t believe him. It is the first day after all.

“Hyunjin!”

Oh, Christ what now?

Hyunjin sighed as he turned around, spotting Dr. Douglas in front of him. “Hello, sir.” As much as he wanted to throw a fit and call him names, Hyunjin knew he had to play nice for now.

“Minho informed me about the incident in room 304.” Dr. Douglas frowned. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I appreciate what you did in there.”

“No worries.” Hyunjin smiled. “I didn’t do much. It was all Minho.”

Dr. Douglas smiled nervously, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he said, “Look, son —”

“I’m not your son.” Hyunjin’s eyes hardened as he waited for the older man to continue.

Dr. Douglas sighed, arms crossing over his chest in frustration. “I’m trying to be friends here.”

“Pardon my confusion, but I’ve never worked in a place with a friendly boss.” Hyunjin smiled an innocent look in his eyes — almost enough to fool the man in front of him.

“You don’t have to like me, but you have to do your job.” Dr. Douglass glared.

“I plan to.”

Dr. Douglas rolled his eyes. “Did Miss _____ get her medicine today?”

Hyunjin’s heart dropped in his stomach. “Of course.”

A long, unnerving silence followed — one that made Hyunjin’s blood run cold. Did he know? If Dr. Douglas found out about Hyunjin hiding the pills, he’d surely lose his job. Getting fired the first day on the job wouldn’t look good for his resume.

“And how was she?” Dr. Douglas stared at him.

Hyunjin swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing the sentence out of his throat. “She was fine. A little nervous, but that’s to be expected.”

Dr. Douglas seemed to accept this explanation. “See? All her medications are working for her. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Of course sir.” Hyunjin smiled. “I apologize for my behavior earlier. I just wasn’t aware of Peroproxin, and I realize that Dr. Henry was merely doing his job.”

“That’s quite alright son.”

Hyunjin’s eye twitched at his designated nickname. “I have a quick question.”

“Of course son.” Dr. Douglas smiled.

“Not your son — umm. Could I look at the ingredients that are used in Peroproxin? I’m just curious because I’ve never heard of that medication. I’m curious to see what it contains.” Hyunjin figured he’d play dumb. Maybe he could get his hands on one of the bottles and see what’s actually in the medication?

“Sorry, Hyunjin. It’s late and I’m headed home.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “I’m glad we hired you. You seem to be doing a great job.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hyunjin yawned dramatically. “I’m pretty beat. I’ll head home too.”

“Goodnight son.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes after Dr. Douglas walked off. That asshole was just trying to piss him off. After sighing like a passive-aggressive child, Hyunjin made his way to the lobby, pausing when he passed by your door.

Maybe Chan could help him out?

Even though he didn’t quite trust the man yet, Chan was his last chance. If Hyunjin had to sacrifice his career to help you, so be it. Hyunjin slowly opened the door and smiled at Chan.

“Everything okay?” Chan turned towards Hyunjin, brows creasing when he saw the boy’s shoulders slump. “Because I recall being told I was needed in Dr. Douglas’s office, and he wasn’t there.” The older boy raised an eyebrow at Hyunjin. “If you needed a moment alone with your girlfriend, all you had to do was ask.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Hyunjin crossed his arms over his chest. “I just…”

“Don’t worry.” Chan chuckled. “You don’t have to explain. I understand how hard it is to trust people in this place.” He smiled. “So, what can I help you with?”

Hyunjin strolled over to Chan, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “I need to get my hands on a bottle of Peroproxin.”

“Hyunjin I can’t help you with that.” Chan sighed. “We’re doctors, not pharmacists.”

“Yes, but we have the ability to prescribe. We should be allowed to look at the medication we’re prescribing these patients.” Hyunjin was frustrated. This didn’t make any sense.

“We’re not allowed to change prescriptions in this institution. Dr. Douglas handles all of that.” Chan’s brows creased.

“But —”

“Hyunjin. Let it go.” Chan’s stern voice startled the boy. “There are eyes and ears everywhere. You need to be careful.”

What?

“I know this looks like I’m just being a brat, but I need this Chan.” Hyunjin’s eyes glassed over. “I need to figure this out for her. I can’t just watch her suffer.”

Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Down the hall, to the left. There’s a big ass room filled with bottles of pills. Peroproxin is on the second shelf from the top — you’ll be able to reach it.” He paused. “Look for bottle 258B. That’s what she’s prescribed. If you’re caught and my name gets dragged into this, I’m going to find you and kick your ass.” Chan looked up at Hyunjin and chuckled. “Rosewood Psychiatric Institution will be the least of your worries.”

“Thank you!” Hyunjin hugged the man, catching Chan off guard. He just threatened Hyunjin, and now the boy is hugging him? Well, worst things could happen.

“Hurry up before the guards start to take their rounds seriously.” Chan shooed Hyunjin off, hoping the boy wouldn’t be seen.

Hyunjin rushed off to the medicine, smiling when he spotted the big ass room Chan described. That’s it! Now all he has to do is —

“What are you doing up sir?”

Hyunjin spun around, head spinning as he met face to face with Dr. Henry. “Please, just call me Hyunjin.” Hyunjin smiled. “I was looking for the bathroom on this floor and I got lost.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Can you please tell me where it is?”

“I was told your shift ended two hours ago.” Dr. Henry smirked. “Why are you here still?”

Hyunjin paled. How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

“I asked him here.” A short man stepped out from the shadows. “I just wanted to confirm what he saw in room 304.”

Dr. Henry frowned. “Alright then. I assume Changbin can help you with your little…” Dr. Henry leaned forward, breath ghosting near Hyunjin’s ear. “Problem.” The man chuckled darkly before walking away.

“Okay, that gave me the jeebies.” Hyunjin shivered, wiping his ear with his hand.

“I don’t blame you.” The short man — Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks for saving my ass.” Hyunjin smiled.

“Don’t mention it.” Changbin smiled. “I’m a friend of Minho’s. He’s told me a lot about you.”

“Wow…” Hyunjin laughed. “Day one and I’m already making a name for myself.”

“You aren’t like other caretakers.” He chuckled. “What are you after?”

“Medicine,” Hyunjin replied. “I’m looking for Peroproxin.”

“I can’t help you there.” Changbin chuckled. “I’m the head of security, so I typically handle crazy patients.”

“So you’re the one who makes sure they get beat into submission?” Hyunjin scanned the various shelves in the medicine room, spotting the bottle he was after.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” Hyunjin’s chest tightened when he saw the genuine confusion on Changbin’s face. “I don’t beat anyone. I’m just the muscle that kicks unruly visitors out of the institution.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin apologized. “I’ve seen some disturbing things over the past 12 hours and I’m starting to get paranoid.”

“That isn’t a bad thing.” Changbin sighed. “You have your medicine. Now get out of here so I can erase the footage of you stealing.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened at Changbin’s words. “Thank you.” He paused, resting his hand on Changbin’s shoulder. “Seriously… Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah.” Changbin sighed. “Get out of here.” Hyunjin thanked him once more before darting out of the institution — heading back to his dorm room.

The ebony-haired man yawned as he opened the door to his room, smiling softly when he spotted Minho passed out in his bed. At least the boy was able to get some sleep. Hyunijn brushed some bangs out of Minho’s eyes, noticing the way the boy’s nose scrunched in his sleep.

Hyunjin has always had a nurturing touch. He’s been taking care of his mother since he was a young boy. His mother suffered from a few different mental disorders, and after his father committed suicide, she completely stopped taking care of herself. So at five years old Hyunjin started taking care of his mother. He cooked her meals, made sure she took her medicine, and he kept her company until she was well enough to take care of herself.

This stuck with him over the years. Hyunjin always wanted to please — to make sure that people were taken care of.

Unfortunately, much like his mother, his emotions were like glass. Hyunjin always fell too deep too fast when it came to love. After a few bad breakups, he decided that romance just wasn’t in the cards for him.

Well… That was until he met you.

Seeing someone with such a pure heart being mistreated, hit something deep within him. He couldn’t help but admire your courage. Every day you woke up, putting your trust in these corrupt doctors, in hopes that your memories will return.

Speaking of missing memories…

Hyunjin pulled out the bottle of Peroproxin — spying the list of ingredients in the back. What on earth were those? Hyunjin gasped when he realized that he had no idea what any of these ingredients were. How could a doctor prescribe a drug like this to his patients without knowing what’s in it?

Hyunjin pulled out his laptop, opening the browser and searching the ingredients one by one. Nothing popped up. Hyunjin sighed and rubbed his eyes. His vision started to blur as exhaustion took over, knocking the boy out cold on the floor.

--------

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” Hyunjin smiled at you as you slowly sat up from the bed.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“Time to get up.” He chuckled and sat next to you on the bed. “I’m just popping in to ask you a question.”

Hyunjin flipped shifts with Chan every-so-often. He must be working the night shift today.

Over the past few weeks, you and Hyunjin were like two peas in a pod. After your music box was taken, you had a few meltdowns, but Hyunjin was able to help you through all of them. He always took care of you — no matter how bad things got.

“Here’s your dose of Prozac.” Hyunjin handed you a pill and you took it, washing the pill down with some water.

“Are you allowed to do this?” You loved taking this medication, but you were worried about Hyunjin. The last thing you wanted was to see Hyunjin lose his job because of you. The boy worked so hard to become a doctor. One bad experience could wreck his chances at getting another job.

“No, not at all.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Minho handles a lot of the medication these days, so he’s been adjusting the count for me.” He smiled at you. “Minho hates this place as much as we do. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” You held Hyunjin’s hand, making the boy’s cheeks flush a bit. “I appreciate all you do for me.”

“I’d do it for anyone,” Hyunjin replied.

Oh…

Well, that hurts a little.

“Well, thanks anyways.” You visibly sulked, but Hyunjin didn’t notice. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh yeah!” Hyunjin beamed. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“What?” You tilted your head in confusion.

Cute…

“What’s your favorite?” Hyunjin smiled brightly. “It’s your birthday tomorrow and I have a surprise for you.”

“Chocolate I guess.” You smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to. You have a special place in my heart.”

Oh my god there it was.

You couldn’t stop the blush spreading on your cheeks as you grinned. That means he likes you right? Well, like as a friend but what if… What if he liked you as more than a friend?

“All of my patients have a special place in my heart.” Hyunjin smiled.

You couldn’t help but sigh. Or perhaps you’re just another patient to him…

“Hey, I have to go get something to eat, but I’ll see you in an hour for my shift!” Hyunjin quickly left the room, leaving you excited for his shift, yet confused about your feelings for the boy.

You trusted him.

You trusted him with your life but… that wasn’t the main reason you loved him. It wasn’t because of his beauty — nor was it because of his kindness. You were entranced by his every move. Every word that left his lips was interesting to you. You loved everything about him.

But clearly, he didn’t see you as anything other than a patient — which is to be expected from a guy who has lived his life with his nose in a book.

You couldn’t help but sigh, boredom taking over as you tried to figure out what you should do. Hyunjin gave you a book to read a few weeks ago. You should probably finish that so you could stay up tonight and chat with him about the book. You pulled the worn-out book from your shelf and started to read.

Chan left earlier to help Minho with something important, and you told him you’d be fine until Hyunjin came in for his night shift. You weren’t used to being on your own, and you missed the company. Hyunjin always chatted with you about many different things. You told him stories you’ve never shared with anyone before… at least you think. Your memory wasn’t the best.

Footsteps tore your attention from the pages. Did Hyunjin forget something? Chan said he’d be gone the rest of the night, so you didn’t think that he’d be back so soon. You turned around to see a new face — someone you weren’t familiar with. He was in a uniform, so you figured he must work at Rosewood. “Where’s Chan?”

“Chan told me to look after you until your other doctor comes.” The man answered, eyes avoiding your gaze as he scanned the room.

What was he looking for?

The energy in the room completely shifted. Instead of being calm, you felt nervous and afraid. You wanted Hyunjin back. You were scared. If Chan actually sent this man, wouldn’t he know that your other doctor was Hyunjin? Did this man actually work here?

The man lunged for you, catching you off guard as you fell out of the chair. A sharp pain in the side of your neck made you cry out in pain, hand smacking at the man as the tip of the needle pierced your skin. What was he giving you? Was he sedating you? You didn’t do anything wrong?

“Hyunjin!” You cried out, but your voice sounded off. The room went blurry as you slumped to the ground, unable to support your body with your weak arms.

Another man walked into the room as you tried to lift yourself up. You were too dizzy to do anything other than sit up on the floor, but you were kicked down as soon as you saw a large body dropped beside you. You tried to scream, but you couldn’t. It was as if you were paralyzed. One of the men positioned your body so you were laying right next to the dead body. You could see red seep onto the floor as the man from earlier stabbed it multiple times with something. The pieces clicked together all at once. He was trying to frame you for murder.

Where was Hyunjin?

The man left the room, leaving you scared and shaking on the floor. Your consciousness cut in and out for a while. You could feel the blood reach your fingertips, staining the skin red. You couldn’t remember much of what happened, but you remembered one thing when you regained consciousness.

Your heart shattered when your eyes met Hyunjin’s — fear evident in his big brown eyes.

“What did you do?”

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justjessame · 3 years ago

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Glorious, Before the Burden - The Mourning ~ 15

I had no more visits from the Time Variance Authority, or SHIELD, or anyone else unwanted for quite some time. Michael came every few days, to check on me and share a meal - to convince me to TRY to sit through a movie or television show with him, usually laughing at me when I would grow bored.

“Sigyn,” he’d say, looking far more like a sad pup than an elderly Midgardian with his soft eyes and sad smile. “Is it truly THAT bad?”

I’d shake my head and try to find interest in it, some type of enjoyment so we could share it - finally finding that some of the stories really weren’t terribly bad. Eventually I’d curl up into my chair falling into the tale with as much interest as Michael. A brief respite from my goal of working my way back to Loki.

Honing my magic wasn’t something I had to work very hard at, to be fair and honest. It was more about learning to think of it as a natural part of me, because it was - allowing it to flow from me as easily as breathing.

When I rose in the morning, my bed would fix itself and my clothing would both be chosen and then be changed. Arranging my hair, fixing my face - my food all of it would come as easily as inhaling and exhaling. I couldn’t create food from nothing, a reality I learned fast enough, but as long as I had the ingredients on hand my meals were set. The garden still called to me, nature I supposed was something that centered my own nature. Evening baths were ready when I came inside, and then my bed linens were pulled down and awaiting only me for my sleep.

A joke, when I was still among my own people, was that witches could see the past and future - I’d told Michael as much when he asked what I expected from my powers as they grew, but aside from memories I hadn’t had any scenes of what was to come. At least not yet. I still dreamed of Loki, in his prison, resigned to his fate - but I stayed invisible, unwilling to put him through more pain and grief than he already was weighed down with - I even saw Frigga visiting him.

Her illusion, at least, and it pained me to see that he denied her the title of mother. Even as she brushed it away, reminding me of when she told me how deeply he felt things - I knew it still hurt her to hear him say it. As much as I knew it hurt him to utter the lie.

While I eavesdropped, out of sight of my husband, I noticed that Frigga’s gaze seemed to burn into me. Once he pushed her away, I was pulled away from his cell as well, even as I sighed at the command of it.

“Sigyn,” hearing her voice, after the last time we were face to face wasn’t as welcome as I thought it might be. “You didn’t show yourself,” she was standing in her rooms, and for once Frigga didn’t look as confident and sure. “You look well.”

The sound I made was humorless, and the glance she gave me was even less certain. “I look well?” Shaking my head, I turned away to look out over the balcony. “I look like I’ve been forced to stand alone, Frigga.” How could Asgard look so - NORMAL? “Alone and among strangers while my husband thinks I’ve committed suicide because of him.” She’d gone completely silent. “I didn’t show myself because all he sees is a ghoul created by YOUR magic. Proof of his failure.” I blinked away the burning threat of tears. “Why would I want to torture him when his parents have done such a wonderful job?”

“You don’t understand,” her voice had taken on a pleading tone and I was tempted to turn, but I didn’t. “Sigyn, you think I’ve chosen to do this because I’m punishing him, but you have to understand it was the ONLY way.”

“The ONLY WAY?” Turning then, she came forward and gripped my hands in hers, looking almost mad. “The only way, what do you mean?”

“What he’d done, Sigyn, where he went and the deal he made to do it -” her eyes were as red and fevered as Loki’s had been before - “When you came to me, while he was missing?” I nodded, her grip on my hands was almost painful as it grew tighter. “I was there when he was making a horrible bargain, he wouldn’t listen to me.” I struggled to keep up, she was speaking so fast. “Then the attack on Midgard - Thor rushed in, after being banished there and meeting the young woman -” Again I was trying to piece together her thoughts, but she kept going, “the destruction, Sigyn, what Loki had done there - I had to get him back, and to do that I had to make sacrifices -”

“Me,” I felt the first tear fall. “You sacrificed me.” She shook her head, her hands still clutching mine, her nails digging into my skin. “You sacrificed my marriage and Loki’s sanity - you stole my glow and you allowed Odin to tell him I was dead.” I was pulling my hands free. “All to bring him home to a PRISON?”

“Sigyn, stop.” Frigga seemed to regain herself. Shaking off some of the fervor and taking my hands again, more carefully. “Listen to me, very carefully.” Her voice was growing calmer. “Your glow is NOT gone, your glow is part of you, just like your magic. My magic is illusion based, yours is ingrained in your very marrow.” I swallowed down the pain and betrayal and focused on her, my teacher. “Loki had made many enemies - the bargain he made? He failed, not only did he cause massive destruction and ruin on Midgard, but he also reneged on his deal with a very powerful being - his prison is MUCH safer than his freedom would be.”

“Odin -” she shook her head and smiled, the soft reassuring smile she often gave me as a child.

“My husband is very wise in so many ways, my daughter, but in this?” Sighing she cupped my cheek as she released my hands. “In this he should have both eyes patched.”

Waking up while the sky was still dark, I considered the possibility that I’d truly had a DREAM, but my hands hurt - causing the room to light subtly, I raised my hand and found the crescent shaped impressions that Frigga’s nails have left in the tops of my hands when she’d grasped my hands so tight during her frenzied explanation of WHY she’d gone along with Odin’s insane request to have me banished.

As the light dimmed back to darkness, I lay wondering how she could touch me - if I weren’t able to go home to Asgard?

“Do you love me?” Loki’s voice, deep and soothing against the back of my neck and vibrating through me, worked its own magic on my mouth - my lips curling as I woke up. “Sigyn, darling, do you? Do you love me?”

Humming my agreement that I did, in fact, love him, his cool fingers were sliding down my bare back before dancing along my waist and rolling me over. Opening my eyes, I was greeted with his blue eyes staring into mine. “What’s brought on the interrogation about my love for you, my prince?”

“Marry me,” we’d been in Midgard for only days - and I was still wearing the gold ring on my left finger as a sign of our pretend marriage, but he looked entirely serious. “Marry me, Sigyn. Here in this realm, and then again when we go home.”

“Are you mad?” His hands had slithered up my body, and were framing my face, his thumbs tracing under my eyes. “If we marry here, it won’t bear any weight on Asgard, you know that.”

“It will for us,” he was serious, totally and completely. “For you and me, it will matter and be entirely real. You’ll be my wife, Sigyn and I’ll be your -”

“Husband,” I bit my lip. I wanted it, I did. “Frigga’s speaking with my parents, you said as much -”

He nodded, leaning forward and sighing. “Yes, but -” our breath was mingling, cool and warm. “I don’t want to wait. Marry me. Here and now.”

“Now?” I glanced around our hotel room, what I could see of it with him hovering over me. “We’re naked and in bed, Loki.”

He chuckled. “Alright, not RIGHT now, but while we’re here.” Studying his eyes I could tell he meant it. “We’re going to wed, Sigyn, why not marry for ourselves first?”

I nodded and laughed when he made a sound that I’d never heard him make - a gleeful noise that told me just how excited he was by my agreement.

Waking up at dawn, I was smiling. Finally a GOOD memory. Our first wedding, on Midgard, wasn’t as filled with tradition and opulence as the one we had on Asgard, yet it was somehow more binding for the intimacy of it. Marrying in a small chapel, with witnesses that Loki had charmed from off the street, and the priest officiating - exchanging vows that weren’t quite as familiar as the ones we would before our families - being named husband and wife felt right.

When I told Mobius that I’d been married to Loki for a very long time, I truly meant longer than even Odin knew. Longer than my own parents or possibly Thor would know. All because my husband couldn’t stand to wait until we returned to Asgard, until his mother had convinced my parents of how right our pairing was - I became a bride here and I was coming into my powers more fully here. Midgard: forever entwined with Loki and I.

#loki #loki x sigyn #loki series #alternate universe #sigyn #angst

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wocfics · 5 years ago

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Merry Go Round

Kim Seokjin Series

Arranged Marriage Series

Masterlist

KSJ x Poc Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,018

Summary: Namjoon’s mistakes put the group in a hole, because of his one night stand ending in a pregnancy and the image of the group on the line, the company makes a rash decision in setting up arranged marriages with all of the members so suspicion doesn’t raise. Kim Seokjin, is the first to be married after Namjoon, but there’s only one thing, his new wife is a total princess, and not the good kind.

Oh how awkward it is to be getting married, to a stranger, at a table meeting. The only plus side to this was that it was Kim Seokjin of K-pop group BTS. Yeah, Y/N knew who he was but...he was still a stranger. What if they didn’t get along? What if he was actually really rude compared to how he was seen in interviews and other things? Dressed in a cream colored sweater dress that hugged her figure and stopped at the knee, paired with white pumps and her light brown loose curls hanging down to her shoulders, Y/N tapped her perfectly manicured fingers on the table while her lawyer sat beside her and Mr. Bang sat on the other side of the table. They were waiting for Jin and his lawyer to come so that they can start the process of this arranged marriage that was set in stone a few months ago. Amongst the applicants was Y/N and since her credentials were in order and her being bilingual in both English and Korean, due to her mother being Korean of course, she was the top pick. Lucky her.

Y/N was a model for numerous magazines, due to her being Korean and African American, a lot of companies loved her look and how soft her facial expressions were, they just had to have her.

Hearing the door open, her eyes panned over to where Seokjin walked in first, wearing a simple pink dress shirt and black slacks, with shoes to match. His black hair was slightly slicked back and he kept a straight face as he watched Y/N while making his way to his seat. His lawyer right behind him, they both took a seat after everyone stood up and bowed to each other. With her legs crossed under the table, Y/N’s lawyer handed her a pen while Mr. Bang spoke amongst the lawyers. She kept her eyes on Seokjin while he stared back at her, he was definitely nervous and scared at that. Who wouldn’t be right?

Y/N came from a wealthy family, a bit of a princess complex but with a few things she loved to do. She was in pageants and was even prom queen in high school. The only thing she lacked in the most was finding a husband, especially with being 27. Her mother always asked when she would find a husband and Y/N’s reply was always. “He needs to find me.” Her mother had gotten wind about BTS and their arrangement through a friend of the company and quickly signed her up under Seokjin’s name. It was between her and 4 other women and since her status was higher than the others, she made the cut.

“Y/N, Seokjin, please sign on the lines at the bottom. Y/N, you will now sign with Kim Y/N under your original signature.” Mr. Bang spoke, sliding the paper to your lawyer for her to read over it before letting you sign it. “I’d also like to make a suggestion about something as well. This prenup agreement, that just won’t do. I think that decision should be left up to them to decide as adults. Since they aren’t to file for divorce for the first five years, in that five years something could change and I believe that option should be open just in case he slips up.” She spoke with confidence in her voice. Seokjin’s lawyer pressed his lips together in a line before closing his eyes and nodding. “I agree to that.�� He replied quietly. Mr. Bang nodded and removed the extra paperwork while you two signed various forms about commitment and such.

You remember when you were a child, wanting to find the perfect rich husband, he had to be tall, the best looking and most of all extremely kind to you. There were so many dates you go on as you got older and your vision started to change from wanting everything you dreamed of in a man to not caring at all. As long as he was successful and showered you with gifts was all that mattered to you, because that was all that was important in the end right? Especially for your lifestyle, he had to keep up. You weren’t getting any younger and it was almost the end of the road for you in the dating world, so you got the next best thing. An arranged marriage with an Idol and not just any. You got Kim Seokjin.

After signing the last of the documents, you placed the pen down and stood up with your lawyer, everyone else doing the same. The lawyers shook hands, saying how they’ll be in touch and you straightened out your dress before grabbing your bag and looking at your now future husband across the table. “Y/N, your things are already moved into the apartment we have for the two fo you.” You blinked a few times before clearing your throat. “A-Apartment?” You repeated, not knowing if you heard right. Were they insane? How was your wardrobe going to fit in the closet of an...apartment. Laughing lightly, you shook your head. “No, no. I’ll have a realtor look for a decent home, not too far from this building. I’m not living in an apartment.” Y/N took out her phone and sent a quick text before moving her dark brown eyes towards Jin with a small smile. “If we’re married, which we are now, we’re not living in an apartment. A house is much better, and much bigger.”

____________________________________________________________________________

It only took a few hours to find a house that was suitable for the both of you, it was simple but elegant enough. Only 20 minutes away from the Big Hit building. A dusty rose colored house with a paved driveway, a big front and back yard, 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. The inside was a light tan color, with plus carpeting. The kitchen was big enough since you knew that Seokjin was a cook, thank goodness for that because you were not one to cook anything. It had an island as well and there was a balcony in the master bedroom. The furniture wasn’t purchased yet so you did have your bed brought in for the time being.

With your heels by the front door and your bag on the kitchen counter, you and Jin were now in the master bedroom, putting away your clothes in the closets. There were two walk ins across from each other so it was perfect for your things to go in. Setting up your shoes and then your coats on each rack, colored coordinated. It took about 2 hours before everything was out of the way and you walked out of the closet, sighing and glancing at Jin. “Well, I’m starving...you should cook something. I’m curious about your skills.” Walking out of the room, Jin stood in the middle of the room and rubbed his face, sighing heavily before taking his phone out of his pocket and sending a quick text to the group chat he had with the boys. “She’s so bossy, a royal pain. Send help. The house is nice though.”

Since the only thing you two managed to get groceries to stock the fridge, he figured he’d start with something simple, cooking a big meal for the both of you wasn’t in the cards just yet and plus, he had to stop cooking so much food now, since it was two instead of seven. Whipping up some beef bulgogi and placing the kimchi next to it, you stood at the island and began eating, sighing and humming as you ate, which was a habit of yours when something was extremely good.

You took some of the kimchi and ate while you finished your meal halfway through before stopping and digging into your purse, pulling out a bottle of wine and setting it on the table. Grabbing two plastic cups, since there were no glasses yet, you poured a cup for him and handed it to him and then one for you and looked at him. “I know this is as weird for you as it is for me, but I’m not going to be walking on eggshells around you. You’re busy with BTS and I’m busy with modeling so…” You lifted up your cup. “No awkwardness, we’re a married couple, not under the best circumstances I’m sure but let’s make the best of it. Husband.” You tapped his cup and took a sip before going back to eating.

Demanding for sure. Jin didn’t know how to take you at all. The first couple of weeks were chaotic with the furniture coming in and his schedule starting up again. You hired a cleaning service to clean every week and a lawn service to keep the grass and weeds in check. Since winter was approaching, it wasn’t needed as much but you did make a list in the back of your head to get some flowers once the cold days were over.

Although you and Jin slept in the same room, he always stayed close to the edge while you sprawled out in the middle of the bed, occasionally elbowing him in his back and apologizing afterwards. For a woman with a princess complex, you were a wild sleeper for sure and it was almost comical because he would wake up and often see you with your mouth open, hair out of the bun you left in and curls across your forehead.

Eventually, you two would have to sit down and figure out each other’s upcoming schedules, with you having a few gigs that were offered and his touring schedule. You did have to make time for each other at some point, as a married couple now. He would be gone for a couple of months and although you did model, it was only a few days or so out of the week, so you’d have to find something to do during your spare time. Things were definitely going to get rocky over the course of these first five years and who knew, maybe you and Jin would hit it off.

One thing that was also in your contract was to see a marriage counselor after the first year, which was going to be difficult in itself, since the following year would be him enlisting.

Waking up one morning, you went for a morning jog and showered before his alarm went off. Your hair up in a ponytail with a few loose curls falling out and you stood in the kitchen at the island, dressed in a black velour jacket and matching pants with a white camisole underneath. You made a pot of tea and poured it into two mugs and set them on the counter. Grabbing your notepad and a bedazzled pen that you started clicking while adding some honey to your tea, you waited for him to get ready and leaned against the counter as he walked out in a pair of sweats and a white shirt, dressed for rehearsals. He paused and looked at the mug and then at you. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and grabbing the mug from the counter. You grinned and nodded, clearing your throat.

“So, since we’ve been married for almost a month, I think it’s time we figure out our schedules, don’t you think? It’ll be easier to maneuver that way, I guess. It’ll at least be easier for me anyways. We have to spend ‘quality time’ to get to know each other so I need to know what you’re doing at all times.” He raised both brows, taking a sip from the tea and glancing at the clock. He had to be at rehearsals in an hour so he had some time to spare before, especially with living only a couple of minutes away. You clicked the pen and looked up at him. “So, just tell me your basic week of what you do.”

#kim seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin #seokjin imagine #bts fanfics #bts imagines #bts poc #poc bts #KPOC #pockpop #kim namjoon #min yoongi #junghoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #BTS jin

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1109

What were you like at 17? Infinitely more naïve than I am now. I was going through my first heartbreak, funnily enough caused by the same person who is the reason for my current heartbreak, but that’s a story I’ve shared a million times. Anyway, at 17 I was still in high school so I was definitely more carefree about a lot of things; I wasn’t worrying about the future too much just yet, and I was still set on taking journalism. I was also going through my first family death which allowed me to explore a new side of my emotions.

Tell us about your first kiss. I had been really nervous about it and I felt like I wasn’t ready. But she was very gentle and took her time with me that night, even though I could tell she really wanted to have that kiss. I knew I hadn’t been a good kisser for my first, but she seemed to have good memories of it years later when we revisited the experience.

Tell us about your worst date. I’ve never been on a date with someone I wasn’t seeing.

What’s your biggest flaw? I’m extra sensitive and can’t take even the most playful of jabs without feeling the least bit hurt, unless the dig came from someone I’m extremely comfortable with, like Angela. That makes me the worst person for banter in most cases and it makes me not the most approachable person.

What’s the coolest thing you’ve bought lately? To be honest with you, I only ever buy food lol. I’ve been an employee for three months now and I have yet to buy something that’s meant to be an investment or is meant to last with me.

Who is your celebrity crush? Can’t really decide between Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet. Love them both.

What is your biggest pet peeve? I don’t appreciate lateness very much, especially if people have no reason to be.

What’s the song you most wish you had written? I don’t really think like this. If anything, I’m grateful there are songwriters out there who can pen songs that perfectly encapsulate my thoughts and feelings.

What do you always take with you when you travel? Phone, laptop, my chargers for each, wallet, and too many clothes because I like having multiple choices on what to wear while I’m traveling.

Do you have any pets? Two dogs.

Have you or someone you know ever drunk dialed? I never have, but I probably know a ton of people who have.

What is the worst break up you have experienced? The most recent one. The person I trusted the most hurt me in more ways than I could ever imagine. She seemed so desperate to get rid of me, and I will never be able to shake off the excruciating pain of feeling unwanted. She made it sound like I put her on a leash when I did nothing but attend to her every need and adjusted in a million ways for her comfort while never asking for anything back. I blamed myself for months, never knowing what exactly I was blaming myself for.

I worked my goooooooddamn hardest to get to where I am today, and I’m not sure she deserves to re-enter my life after the work and fixing I’ve done to be able to forgive and love myself.

Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I don’t think so. The only one I remember was a seatmate on a plane who snored for the entire trip, but it didn’t bother me too much. When was the last time you were rejected by someone? Late 2020.

Has someone way older than you tried to hit on you? Nope.

Have you ever been cheated on? Never.

Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? No. I went to the same school from kinder to high school, so by freshman year I could’ve gone through the entire campus blindfolded.

Have you ever been interrupted during sex? Yeah many times.

Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? Yeah, I’m the favorite for that kind of content haha. I can get quite silly when drunk.

Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? Nope.

Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? Not exactly, but close. I’ve baked stuff before that ended up tasting like nothing.

What is the worst birthday you have ever had? I don’t think I have one that’s in the running for absolute worst, but my 21st birthday coincided with Easter Sunday so I couldn’t invite anyone to celebrate with me. Gabie’s parents, who aren’t even particularly religious, didn’t allow her to celebrate with me because it was Easter, so that was a blow. Angela saved the day by taking me to dinner and spending the whole evening with me, but by the end of the evening Gabie and I had a lengthy argument and she kept trying to break up with me. It was a miserable end to a mostly miserable birthday.

Have you ever choked on chewing gum? Probably briefly in the past. I don’t have any moments that stuck with me.

Have you ever found anything dirty in a siblings room? No, but I also don’t go looking around through his things. < Same.

Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I’m sure I have. I once made a mess in a high school classmate’s bathroom when I cleaned my hands to get red food coloring off of them. I did want to clean it, but my mom suddenly came to pick me up so I had to leave the sink in such a messy state. Years later and I still feel bad about it, even though I’ve never been close to that girl and I’ve never visited her house since.

When is the last time you got into a fist fight? Idk man, 15 years ago? The only physical fights I’ve gotten into were with my siblings and cousins when we were kids.

Have you ever been spit on by a llama? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a llama in real life.

Have you ever locked yourself out of your car/house? The house, yes many times. Never out of my car.

Describe how you got one of your scars. My right ring toe got caught in the gears once when I was riding my bike.

Describe how you’ve broken a bone, if you have. Never have. Would hate to feel what it’d be like D:

Have you ever had a near death experience? The time I got shocked when I was 11 probably comes the closest.

When you get cold at home, do you get a sweater/hoodie or get a blanket? I rarely get colds. When I do, I just wait for it to leave; I don’t really do anything to deal with it.

Do you require visual assistance? (i.e.; glasses or contacts) I’ve had glasses since I was 11.

Do you work out? Occasionally.

Describe the last cup you drank from. It was just a clear glass that had water in it.

What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Sushi and sashimi.

Do you like sausage? I’ve never liked sausage tbhhhh. It tastes odd to me.

Ever held a newborn animal? I don’t think. The closest I’ve come to holding a newborn was meeting Cooper when he was two months old and barely looked like a beagle.

Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I haven’t had a birthday cake in a while, but in general I do make wishes when I get the chance to blow out candles.

Have you ever been to Boston? Nope.

Describe your hair at the moment. I showered a few hours ago so it’s still a bit damp, but otherwise it’s nothing special.

What is the last thing you searched for online? I looked for a synonym for a certain word, but I don’t remember what it was.

What are you sitting on? The chair in my room. I actually haven’t sat on it for a couple of months, so it feels pretty refreshing to do so again.

Could you use a massage right now? If I could get rid of how terribly ticklish I am, I would so appreciate a massage right now, yeah.

Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? Yup and I also get insanely cranky as well. Being hot is one of the worst sensations ever, if not the outright worst.

Do you sleep on your stomach/back/side most often? On my stomach with my arms and legs wrapped around a pillow.

Do make sure you dot your I`s when you write? Yes.

Do you dunk your cookies in milk? No, I just like to eat them on their own.

What did you wear today? I had a tank top and shorts for most of today.

Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Not really, unless I’m diagnosed with a certain condition lol.

Are you afraid of failure? Yeah because I really hate losing or people thinking I’m not capable enough. The older I get and the more experiences I gain, though, the more I’ve been less afraid to commit mistakes. More and more I realize everybody I deal with are people who also make mistakes and are afraid of making mistakes.

Have you been called a bad influence? I’m sure I have.

What about Chinese food? Love it or hate it? I loooove Chinese food, but it’s not one of my top favorites.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? I honestly have no clue who any of my neighbors are, so I would barely notice if we got new ones.

Why were you last in a hospital? I needed to get blood and urine tests because my fever wasn’t going away and it was time to figure out what was wrong with me.

When is the last time you went to a doctor, and why? We needed him to figure out what I had from the results of the aforementioned medical tests, and for him to prescribe the proper medicine for me to take.

#survey #surveys

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

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RWBY Recap: “Cordially Invited”

Only a week late, folks! Can’t say I’m surprised, what with the holidays underway and my normal schedule all topsy-turvy. Still, at least now there’s a little something to fill the RWBY-less hole this Saturday. Always a silver lining.

We begin the episode with our group discussing their upcoming dinner---Oscar included! We’re off to a great start. We learn that Jacques supposedly just wants to “break bread and hash things out,” but anyone with two brain cells to function together know that’s a load of BS. What frustrates me is Ruby’s attempts to spin this as a good thing because they supposedly want Ironwood to start “opening up” to “these people.” Yeah... there’s so much wrong with that. Normally Ruby’s optimism is one of the personality traits I love most about her, but lately that optimism has been twisted into naivety at best, that pro-protagonist perspective at worst. We saw this in Volume Six where the optimistic “We’ll find some way into Atlas!” became an attack on Argus. Now, Ruby’s “Maybe this won’t be so bad!” is functionally an attack on Ironwood. The responsibility lies with him to achieve that good outcome: he needs to open up to the horrendously corrupt abuser that Weiss at least suspects might be involved with Salem. Note that Ruby doesn’t extend those same expectations to herself and her team. She doesn’t claim that they all should “open up” to Jacques in the name of crafting better relations. No, she immediately jumps to having Weiss spy on him in order to get ahead in the game. For the record, I don’t give a damn if the group commits “bad” actions against Jacques (more on that below) because again, Jacques is an evil, corrupt abuser. Rather, it’s just that continuing issue of hypocrisy. Ruby expects Ironwood to “open up” to him and make peace over dinner, but only expects herself and her friends to give him what’s for. Insert [Ozpin and Ironwood must never keep secrets or tell lies, but we’re allowed to] here. Same song, different tune.

Oscar at least points out how idiotic that perspective is from a practical perspective. He doesn’t call Ruby out on the expectation that Ironwood make nice with the man they want to keep Weiss five billion feet away from, but he does acknowledge that such expectations can’t be fulfilled at this time in this place. Jacques has tailored this dinner to benefit him and him alone. He will control the conversation, so good luck getting around that.

Weiss: “I think my dad would do whatever it takes to win.”

Ruby: “And we should do the same.”

Granted, “whatever it takes” comes to mean spilling some food which obviously is in no way comparable to Jacques’ entire existence. The viewer doesn’t know that’s coming though. When we first hear them, these lines are another nod to the closing gap between the “heroes” and the “villains”---whether we’re defining a “villain” as someone like Jacques or someone like Ozpin. The theme is there. The group is willfully adopting the same choices as those they oppose. If Ozpin is going to lie to us then we’ll lie to Ironwood. If Jacques is going to do whatever it takes then so will we. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. As I’ve mentioned in non-recap metas, RWBY has now created a harsh world where by-the-book heroics will only hurt you in the end. If Ozpin had never kept secrets I don’t believe he would have achieved that extraordinary time of peace. If Blake and Yang hadn’t killed Adam they still would have a murderous abuser stalking them. We clearly have a story where the concept of a lesser evil exists...it’s just that we’re continually turning around to insist that the group is somehow better than everyone else for also doing what they have to to survive.

Which brings me to the fact that if Blake and Yang told everyone else about Robyn, we get not indication of that here. The only nod to last episode’s huge decision was Robyn’s shock that Jacques doesn’t already know what the Amity tower is for, but she’s cut off before she can reveal anything in front of Ironwood. So until proven otherwise... here’s another secret. Not just from an adult in a position of authority, but from the rest of the team as well. Given that Blake hid her faunus status and time in the White Fang, Yang continues to hide her knowledge of the Spring Maiden, both of them are helping to keep at least three major secrets from Ironwood, and are now keeping the Robyn secret from everyone else... no leg to stand on. Not to be dramatic on main, but if either of them ever pulls another, “How dare you keep secrets?!” I’m gonna go absolutely feral lol.

Anyway, back to the plot.

There are no new models of the group in fancy dinner clothes. I in no way had my hopes up for that, but it was fun seeing the posts theorizing about it and I can understand others’ disappointment. That definitely would have been a nice surprise, if an insane amount of work for what amounts to ten minutes of screen time.

Instead everyone just shows up in their normal gear and we get a telling exchange between Ironwood and Winter where she informs him he’d have to pay her to smile. I’m really glad she got a lot of attention this episode, both because we expect as much with her returning to the Schnee manor and because, if she’s going to become the next Winter Maiden, we really need to develop her character some. Even just setting up that she might become a Maiden demands that Winter be more than just Ironwood’s second hand and Wiess’ big sis. Who is she on her own? We start getting a glimpse of that here.

Before her outburst though, the group arrives en masse looking like a small army knocking on Jacques’ door. They’re greeted by Whitley who comments on that, asking Ironwood how large he thinks their dining room table is. Absolutely humongous, obviously. Not really the point though. This is clearly Rooster Teeth poking fun at their own massive cast, which would be more enjoyable if the number of characters didn’t constantly hinder the story. Personally, I’d prefer that they actually tackle underdeveloped or mostly dropped characters (like Maria) rather than just joking about it, but anyone keeping up with these recaps already knows that. If we’re not going to get a better structured story I’ll take some jokes here and there. Laugh about it when you can.

Although, I will say that Rooster Teeth does a good job with a minor character here, namely Klein. Whitley makes a dig at Weiss over how he was let go. Wonder how that could have happened. Klein, to my mind at least, was always meant to be a one shot sort of deal. He was introduced to help Weiss escape and once he’d achieved that was no longer useful to the story. It makes sense that we left him behind, but it’s nevertheless wonderful to get a bit of closure. Sad closure, but closure nonetheless. Now, if Rooster Teeth wants to keep him out of the picture we technically have a complete story. We know who Klein was, what he did, and what happened to him in the aftermath. Yet by keeping him alive and away from the Schnees, there’s always the potential that we’ll run into him again someday. I’m quite satisfied with that balance. It’s much better than what I was expecting, namely for Weiss to return home and conveniently not run into him because that would complicate things. Here we’re given an in-character explanation for his absence. Of course Jacques would fire him.

Finally, in the realm of massive casts and character development, I’ve got to admit that I’m disappointing with Penny being there. Simply because it once and for all shatters the hope that this well-executed frame job will amount to anything. If she’s attending a dinner with Jacques Schnee then things are fine. I said that I wasn’t convinced of this “Penny might be deactivated!” consequence before and I’m definitely not convinced of it now. Theoretically another consequence could have been Ironwood losing his council position, but we don’t see that either. Jacques references Ironwood’s inability to catch whoever hacked them at Beacon and his inability to catch whoever attacked Robyn’s supporters as reasons for being untrustworthy, both of which stand without the frame job. It’s incidental. Tyrian could have just killed everyone as Tyrian and it would have had the exact same effect. All the framing has done is make Penny sad (which hasn’t led to any development yet) and get Pietro to spill the beans about her aura (which could have happened in a thousand other ways). I was so pleased at this setup and the ingenuity of the villains, wondering what sort of impact this framing would have, but now we see the impact is minimal at best. If you frame a character for murder but have no other major character questioning their guilt and they’re out in public two episodes later... what was the point of the framing? Penny’s presence here is disappointing. Not because I don’t love Penny, but simply because of more missed opportunities. At this point I’m wondering why they bothered to bring her back at all. We’re not going to have Ruby grapple with the resurrection of her friend. We’re not going to deal with Penny taking the heat for Tyrian’s murders... Why is she here?

Also, not to distract from these important questions but... that.

That.

Friends, I cannot quite convey how confused I was at first. This is obviously supposed to be akin to the Jaguar ornament but... that’s a raptor, right? Have we seen raptor-type grimm? Am I missing something?? Yes, yes I am. Turns out RWBY Rex is a thing I never knew about and I can now only assume this is another Easter egg. Either that or I’m still missing something. Which is always possible. Either way it made me laugh.

The group heads inside and then splits, Ironwood, Clover, Winter, and Penny going into the dining area. Clover makes a quip about needing luck and Qrow points out that he’s already been invited. I can easily see why so many people are shipping them, but as a hardcore ozqrow shipper myself I’m already biased to view this as friendship. Maybe if we see more of Clover and he doesn’t die like everyone thinks he will I’ll find space in my heart for a dual ship. Either way it’s sweet. As much as I’d like Qrow to acknowledge the best friend he already has two feet away in the body of a kid he hasn’t treated particularly well, I’m nevertheless here for Qrow having healthy and supportive relationships.

We also get to see him refusing a glass of wine. Thank you! Again, it’s pretty late in the game to introduce this and we’re still given no insight into why Qrow is willing to battle his addiction now when he’s succumbed to it for most of his life, but at least they’re maintaining the work needed to stay sober. Qrow politely refuses the offer (from a faunus waiter. No surprise there given Jacques’ racism) and removes himself from temptation by offering to patrol the grounds. Very nicely done. The other Ace Ops join him, warning the newbie huntsmen not to wander off, not to break anything, and make sure you’re available if Ironwood needs you.

To which Yang provides the counter point that they should wander off, they should break things, and all the rest. Jaune later says, “What was that about breaking things?” Admittedly, these lines originally rankled. Because as much as Jacques deserves all the snooping and breaking our team can dish out, I maintain the position that they need to act more responsibly, especially now that they’re officially on the job. We’ve already got Blake and Yang deciding to go behind their bosses’ back. We don’t need them aggravating a situation when they’re the ones who want Ironwood to do that “opening up.” Jacques controlling the situation aside, Ironwood is even less likely to make headway if his guests are off causing trouble.

Which is why I’m so thrilled they didn’t. I’ll be blunt and say straight out that this was a fantastic way to do things. They’re allowed to get food. Nothing wrong with that. We already know Nora is a big eater and tends to be impulsive. If she just happens to pile a plate crazy high, it just happens to hit another guest, and she just happens to douse Whitley in wine? Well... who could have seen that coming? It’s a way of causing mayhem without endangering others or their mission. It achieves the one very specific thing they need: give Weiss an opening to sneak off. No one went overboard. No one else actually snuck off to break things. It was an all around smart plan. Unlike the group attacking Cordovin or Weiss dumping a racist in the trash when they’re supposed to keep a low profile, this is the kind of decision making I can get behind. Something that demonstrates the maturity the group continues to insist they have alongside keeping their playful personalities.

Also, just look at Ren’s smile. That might be the first smile we’ve gotten from him all season. That’s a blessed image, right up there with Oscar stealing hors d'oeuvres the second he walks through the door. Our farm boy is hungry and he’s going to milk Jacques’ wealth for all it’s worth.

The other thing this scene gives us---besides the joyous image of Whitley drenched in wine and Weiss’ amusement over it---is the split screen technique. On the whole I think Rooster Teeth chucks this in too often. There have been many times since the beginning of Volume Six, especially during fight scenes, where the split screen doesn’t feel necessary to me and is even at times quite distracting. Here though? I think it works. The split screen montage used to show the many people involved in, say, a heist is a pretty common technique and it adds another spot of humor to this situation. They’re plotting and executing their food spill with all the sincerity of a bank robbery. I’m here for that.

As Weiss heads upstairs we turn our attention to the meeting with Jacques. It goes about as well as anyone expects. A lot happens in that short span of time though. Robyn sarcastically points out that she should just be happy to have been “invited to the table” and though there’s another black woman across from her, it stands out to me that Robyn, a comparatively dark skinned woman to the rest of the group, says this while the shot poises her between two very white, powerful men. Even the phrase “invited to the table” has gender and racial implications for the audience watching, outside of Robyn’s in-world characterization as a Robin Hood type focused on class. Going off of these themes, we also hear Ironwood reassuring Jacques of their safety by claiming that “Penny is completely under my control.” This, hands down, is the worst thing I’ve seen Ironwood do this volume. Sure, things like the embargo and the supplies have objectively worse consequences, but the story has done a lot to demonstrate the “greater good” justifications behind those choices. We might not agree with Ironwood, but we’re supposed to understand that (until proven otherwise) he has good motivations. Here? That comment is pretty horrible. Ironwood refers to Penny as if she’s a weapon or a tool, a young woman who he believes he literally has control over. It’s a fascinating look into his perspective and a pretty logical one as well. Here’s a man who has put so much faith in his technology, from amassing an army to protect his kingdom to relying on prosthetics to get around. He asked his team to create a new security measure and they did... they just happened to create a person along with it. I’m not sure Ironwood fully understands that yet. He trusts Penny enough to bring her into his own inner circle, but he likewise thinks he can manage her like he would a gun or a vehicle, dictating whether she has friends and announcing that she is under his control. I hope that this is something the writing explores and helps Ironwood work through, rather than just letting it sit as generic evidence that he’s a bad (as opposed to flawed) person. I think Ironwood would realize his mistake and work to correct it if someone pointed out the issue, in the same way we’ve seen him considering, settling, and agreeing with the issues the group has seen fit to yell at him lately.

What interests me most about this whole interaction is (shocking) this continued debate regarding secrets and trust. Overall Rooster Teeth has actually succeeded in creating a decently complex situation here. We know that (again, until proven otherwise) Ironwood has only good intentions and we likewise know that Jacques is now connected to Salem. The information the audience has makes us biased. We know who is supposedly good and supposedly bad. At the same time though, the actual issue appears to be removed from that. Jacques’ side---notably expressed through a new character who acts as a more neutral party---points out that from where they stand there’s no reason for this embargo. We know there’s a reason. Ironwood knows there’s a reason. Because we all know about Salem. But the other council members are making entirely reasonable demands given the information they have: why are you continuing to hurt both the people and our relationship with others? What’s the justification? You can’t give us one? Then why in the world would we let you keep doing this? It puts us in the discomforting position of knowing Jacques is an evil slim ball manipulating the conversation while likewise having to admit that his side has a point. You can’t just announce Salem’s existence because that would make things exponentially worse, but keeping her secret has its definite downsides.

Where Jacques’ party doesn’t have a good position is in his insistence that because Ironwood hasn’t caught these various perpetrators he can’t be trusted, equating trust with results. There’s only so many ideas, resources, and luck that can lead you to catching someone like Tyrian. I understand that knee-jerk reaction, the idea that because someone hasn’t succeeded you should replace them with someone you assume will, but in situations like this you only have so much control over the probability of success. Claiming that Ironwood not catching criminals is indicative of an inability to lead is flimsy, but as we’ve seen, Jacques is a manipulator. He tosses these assertions out as if they’re facts. He and the others continually cut Ironwood off, refusing to let him defend himself. It’s not at all surprising that Winter, someone who suffered under his abuse, eventually explodes with, “You can’t just buy trust like everything else! You have to earn it.” Winter is someone I’m particularly interested in seeing react to the group’s secret keeping because from her perspective, she and Ironwood have earned the group’s trust a hundred times over. Again, provided the story isn’t hiding something from us and Winter is secretly in on some plot with Ironwood, we’re seeing this volume how she’s done the work her father couldn’t and it still wasn’t enough. Her peers, including her baby sister, still decided they weren’t going to trust her with secrets that are intimately tied up in their current work and choices.

Frustrating moral questions aside, something I really loved about this scene was the character setup and the cinematography. Having Jacques with his two allies on one side, Ironwood mirroring that on the opposite end of the table, and Robyn sitting poised between the two, the audience still unsure whose side she’ll fall on. That aerial shot showing off the distance between them all? Excellent visual storytelling.

We get a quick conversation between Winter and Penny which I don’t have too much to say about. Merely that I love Penny for checking up on Winter and I love Winter for correcting her assumption: I’m not saying you wouldn’t understand because you’re a robot, I’m just saying these problems are very specific to me and being in this place. That was particularly reassuring after Ironwood’s comments. Penny ends the scene by saying she doesn’t understand why Winter wouldn’t want to follow her heart. Perhaps an odd comment coming from someone who almost blindly obeys the orders she’s given even when she doesn’t agree---such as not making more friends---but then, it may well be a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ situation. Just because Penny isn’t sure how to always follow her own heart doesn’t mean she can’t encourage others to do the same.

We return to Weiss who, after getting past a curious server, makes it to her father’s office. I feel like this is the scene people are most invested in, considering that I’ve seen a LOT of posts lately trying to demonize Willow for her comment about Whitley. Here’s what people need to remember about Willow moving forward: she’s as much a victim of abuse as Weiss is. She is, presumably, Jacques’ first victim, fully entrenched in his abuse by the time her kids started coming along. As a mother does she have a responsibility to her children? Absolutely, but that doesn’t erase the fact that she’s simultaneously a woman attempting to survive domestic abuse.

(That’s another stunning shot hell yes.)

Initially Weiss takes the side of the posts I’ve seen, painting her mother as someone who made a conscious decision to let the abuse happen---another abuser herself, one out of passiveness. “Some of us are trying to do something about it,” Weiss says, emphasizing that she’s better because she’s doing what her mother never could: fighting back. Ignoring for a moment the highly dubious insistence that abuse victims must simply ‘do something’ about that abuse (it’s not that simple at all), Weiss quickly realizes that she was wrong. Her mother has been doing something, namely setting up hidden cameras around the house for some spying of her own. Why? “For our safety.” To make sure that if Jacques ever goes farther than he already has, Willow will know about it and can take appropriate steps. Is taking precautions against something worse better than leaving a situation that’s already horrific? Of course not, but as said, abuse isn’t just something you can fix. Even if you know it’s happening. This is a woman doing all she can and what someone is capable of in an abusive relationship is based on them and that context, not what others believe is fighting back “enough.”

Willow then reassures everyone, Weiss and the audience alike, that she doesn’t expect Weiss to be the family savior.

Willow: “You haven’t come back to stay, have you?” Weiss: “No.” Willow: “Good.”

That first line potentially reads as a plea. We might have gotten a scene where Willow is disappointed that Weiss isn’t coming back because she doesn’t want to face this family alone. While a very human and understandable desire, it’s likewise not okay to expect another abuse survivor to return to their abuser after they’ve gotten out. In that hypothetical scene the fandom would have a basis for going, “No. That’s... not okay.” But we don’t get that. Willow is thrilled that Weiss both got out and has no intention to return. She wants her daughter safe. That parental instinct outweighs any selfish, human desire to not suffer this situation alone.

Keep the above point in mind when we read the line, “No matter what happens, Weiss, please don’t forget about your brother.” Willow isn’t telling Weiss to return to the house and save him. She’s not even telling her to forgive him. Just don’t forget him. Remember that he’s not a mini Jacques. He’s another young abuse victim. He’s just like you. When we look at the family dynamic it’s clear that in some ways Weiss had a leg up from her brother that helped her get out. Namely, she had Winter. They’re the ones who are close among the siblings and thus Weiss had a role model to follow. Winter, however she managed it, got out and forged her own path. We then see throughout the series how closely Weiss emulates that, from going into combat herself and having Winter train her. The two actions---fighting and escape---are connected in Weiss’ Volume 5 short. Winter tells her that if she wants to get out she has to get better. That’s your route.

In contrast, Whitley has shown no interest in combat and thus doesn’t have that path to emulate. He’s not a girl and is thus automatically treated as the next Jacques, not the next Winter or even Willow. Most importantly, Whitley doesn’t have a close relationship with an older sibling to guide him.

That’s all Willow is asking of Weiss: be for Whitley what Winter was to you. Don’t forget about him. Don’t pretend he doesn’t exist. Don’t fall into the lie Whitley himself believes, that he’s set to be the next Jacques. He’s really an abused 14-15 year old who has suffered through everything we have. So if there ever comes a time where Whitley falters in this belief or you’re given an opening... please treat him like your brother, not your father.

I think that’s a perfectly reasonable thing for a mother to ask and we can easily see via Weiss’ expression that she’s coming to all these realizations too.

“Of course [Whitley doesn’t want anything to do with you.] You left him alone. With us.” That’s not an accusation, it’s a fact. As established, Willow is happy that Weiss got out, but like with so much in RWBY the best decision doesn’t mean it’s a consequence-free decision. In this case the consequence is that Weiss and Winter left their little brother alone with their abuser. They had to for their own mental health and their safety, but they nevertheless did it. So if there ever comes a time when they can help alleviate that consequence, please do.

It likewise doesn’t escape my notice that, again, Whitley is a guy. Just like the fandom was unwilling to accept Ozpin as an abuse victim, people seem hesitant to accept Whitley as an abuse victim either. From what I’ve seen (and there are admittedly always exceptions) Whitley’s shitty behavior hasn’t gotten an a fraction of the sympathy Weiss’ shitty Volume 1-3 behavior got. They’re three years apart at most. If Weiss is a victim then so is her little brother. Don’t let the Jacques’ genetics and learned behavior fool you.

Finally, we end on Watts. The man who continues to be THE most dramatic bitch in this entire series.

We watch as he shuts down the system keeping Mantle warm. Rather than rain, snow starts to fall. Whether this will be just another generic thing going wrong to make the people angry and Ironwood seem incompetent, or whether there’s a more dangerous downside here (we did hear from Weiss about the deadly temperatures...) remains to be seen.

And that’s it. You know, I think that’s the first time in nearly two volumes where I ultimately had more good things to say about an episode than bad. It’s a holiday miracle!

Until next Saturday ;)

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #mymetas #rwby recaps

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