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mirrorforevers · 3 years

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here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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minisoc · 3 years

Text

As requested, line by line breakdown of testoster2's anti communist rant about parties.

> idk which baby leftist needs to hear this

off to a great condescending start from someone whose only left credit is claiming to be on the left on their Tumblr

> but joining a socialist party will be a waste of your time.

I couldn't imagine a more cop opinion to start us off with. i see things like this and i think: whose interests does this serve? "oh no baby leftists, don't join a party" just brings to mind this image

> you'll probably have to pay a monthly due

that's true. every communist party in history has taken dues from members. it's typically scaled to what you can manage though and it's part of the collective effort of the party organization to make social change. my dues sent comrades to Venezuela and Cuba to learn from socialists there, they produced our programs for free lunches, it built our community centers. i have no regrets about paying my dues, i pay dues to my union as well.

> that goes to like. flyers no one reads

projection. sounds now like op is defending their own lack of action with a lack of belief in the possibility of change. in my experience people do read things and even change their minds after reading things. if people were not able to be affected by the written word then propagandists on all sides would be in a tough situation.

> that you yourself will have to give to people

oh no, you mean joining a party means you might have to do outreach and talk to people? can see why it's not for op, then.

> (this in case the money doesn't go straight in the party leader's pocket).

op has never seen this but says it like it's a fact. it would be pretty easy to find out if your party leadership is embezzling and your party should be structured in a way that you know they'd be thrown out if they betrayed everyone like this. i have that confidence in my party, at least.

this is also very reminiscent about how anti communists engage with propaganda. they feel comfortable making claims of any kind whether supported or not. anyway, this is another obvious cop opinion.

> you'll waste time writing papers and reports and shit, it'll feel like having a second job.

not explained is why writing is a waste of time. i think writing for a party is almost always a useful activity, whether you're making plans for a new action or campaign or producing new agitational materials or analysing the results of previous work so you can improve on it.

it is a job, though. being a communist does mean doing work, society won't change by sitting at home and attacking communist parties on Tumblr. the lifelong sacrifices made by hard working communists are why we have seen so many socialist victories in the last century.

> the most exciting events will be lib shit like elections

this again can only be projection. the most exciting times for me have been in some of the countries largest protest actions, organizing campaigns to free political prisoners, providing at risk communities with basic needs and engaging with them, building new unions, etc. etc

> or peaceful protests that the party would still organize w/o you as a member

here's the key issue with op i think. they want to be vital to the revolution. they don't want to think that they're only one of many people all working together. yes it's true the party will continue without you, especially a wannabe cop like you. but it doesn't mean party work is useless, it just means you are useless as an individual.

> (showing up at a protest w/o having a party affiliation gives you more freedom

freedom to do what, i do wonder? being afraid of party work bc it doesn't let you do whatever you want is kinda silly, if you don't want anyone to ever tell you what to do then yeah don't join a party. if you want to make change in the world then do.

> + makes you a bit less arrestable - as opposed to if a cop saw you carrying a name tag w the hammer and sickle on it. just fyi)

this again appears to have been just made up by op. I've never been arrested for wearing a pin or a party tshirt. i don't know a single person who has. and I've known plenty of people without any markings get arrested.

> all this w/o even mentioning how (depending on your luck) there could be a lot of infighting, splits, sometimes purges

well yes it sounds like there would be a lot of drama wherever op goes but it doesn't seem to be the case generally. my party did form in a split, but over 15 years ago. i don't see any reason to worry that it would happen again any time soon. we don't infight at all, sorta the concept of the party is people who want to work effectively together.

another bit of funny evidence that op is anti communist is the inclusion of the word purges, lol. purge means expulsion from party, ooh very sinister.

> all in all, joining a socialist party is a very, Very ineffective way of building communism lmao

well first it's simply a truth that no socialist country was ever built without a communist party. not one.

but also, did any of ops points have anything to do with effectiveness? all i gathered is they're pushing an individualistic, don't tell me what to do outlook. and the condescension about protests and flyering suggest they want something more adventurist, possibly involving violence. remember the fbi and police always instigate when they infiltrate groups. they always push for criminal actions and violence.

> i'd instead recommend you talk to your neighbours abt their lives, and see how you can help each other.

hey, guess what a party does! do you think our new tenants unions and unemployed councils could come into being without talking to neighbors? do you think our new unions could come into being without discussing the way we could help each other?

> if you live in like a very rich neighbourhood or something, instead of joining a socialist party

well isn't this an interesting premise. i wonder what it says about op that they want to emphasize what the well off should do.

> it'd be way more effective if you joined a liberal/conservative party and then fucked their shit up as much as possible

sure, just see every other attempt in history at wrecking or entryism with the Democratic party. i encourage you to look into it

> if ur only goal is meeting other leftists, only go to the first 2 or 3 party meetings, by then you'll know the scene and you'd have already befriended the interesting people. that;s my advice at least

this piece of advice is generally good. in fact before applying to join any party if at all possible i encourage you to meet with the members local to you, see how they work, see what you think of their ideas and what they're doing. if they're not active in your community, ask why not. there's nothing requiring you to join if it isn't for you. but if you want to make change in this country, learning how to do it from those with experience is best. and working together in an organization that can effectively chart a path forward is the only option there is. every communist revolution was built with the leadership of the communist party.

#testoster2 #close reading #communist parties #socialism #us politics

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Adoption

Based on a prompt by @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler for the Phic Phight! An excuse for Lost Time fluff? Don't mind if I do...

The Ghost Zone had a legal system. A court system. A prison system. A police system. A set of established rules. There were even lawyers.

In theory.

In reality the courts (Observants) refused to look at anything that wasn't world ending. Every group had their own, private prison. The police made up their own rules and, even then, broke them regularly. The actual rules had gone several hundred years without an update and referred to places, organizations, and customs that no longer existed. The lawyers were all clinically depressed. That's what happens when there's no active, unifying head of state for hundreds of years.

Still. Every so often a sufficiently foolish ghost, possessed of a brave purpose, would attempt to navigate the ruins of the legal system. Few made it out alive.

(True, being ghosts, they didn't necessarily go into it alive, but it's the thought that counts.)

But those who did make it out (metaphorically) alive, did so with prizes... well, not great enough, but something enough to convince others to make the attempt. Hence Clockwork's current location and headache.

"Sign the paper, Walker," snapped Clockwork.

"That would be against the rules," said Walker, leaning back in his stupid chair. Clockwork's nonexistent spine hurt just from looking at it.

Maybe he should give himself a spine, just so he'd have a reason to feel this way.

"How," he began, "would it be against the rules? This form needs to be signed by a law enforcement official that has seen or witnessed conclusive evidence the child in question being abused by their natural parents. That is you."

"Yes, but the law enforcement officer must first get a warrant approved by an appropriate court in order to collect such evidence," countered Walker.

"Not if the official came across the evidence or act of abuse while pursuing a different case or simply following standard operating procedure. You saw them shoot at him. His mother put a gun to his head. Have mercy, Walker. I know you don't like him, but he is a child who needs guidance. Not a criminal."

"He's a criminal in my books," said Walker.

"What he did was hardly a crime."

"Jailbreak is a crime!"

"Not if one is unjustly imprisoned," said Clockwork. "He was attempting to remove the foreign object." No matter that possessing material-plane items wasn't an actual crime.

"He let others escape!"

"And what were they imprisoned for?"

Walker grumbled. "Some of them are dangerous, and even he knew that," said Walker, nodding at the file spread over his desk.

"Consider it a cry for help. While you were watching him," stalking him, Clockwork did not say, "on the material plane, did he really strike you as criminally inclined? Or perhaps he was simply confused and scared? One thousand years is a very long time in human terms. The targets of his Obsession would have died. Even if he did commit a misdemeanor, he would have rightly been granted clemency, or at least had his sentence deferred."

Walker frowned.

"That's not what this is about, is it? You covering up a mistake?"

"No," said Walker.

Clockwork blinked, quickly running through potential futures. "No one will care that you crossed the veil without authorization. No one who can do anything about it, in any case."

"There'll be an investigation if I sign that there piece of paper. What's the big deal, anyway? Like you said, humans don't live that long. Just wait fifty years."

"They almost ended him," said Clockwork. "He's a child. Do you really want that on your conscience? With the knowledge that you could have stopped it?"

Sighing, Walker picked up his pen.

Danny went to school. Mainly, he went because he didn't know what else to do. He needed the routine, even if the routine was a lie and he felt like trash.

"You could have stayed," whispered Sam, as his hand inched towards the bandages on his chest for the fifth time that morning. "They wouldn't have noticed you."

Danny shook his head. His hand shook more. He put it back in his lap. "It wouldn't have been right. Besides, I need a passing grade in this class, right?" He couldn't get another F, or his parents would kill him, except- except- except-

They had already tried to kill him.

Everything had gone so much worse than he had ever imagined- No. That wasn't quite right. It had gone- It had...

At least he hadn't been cut open.

(Much.)

"Mr. Fenton?"

Danny jumped, banging his knees painfully on the underside of his desk. He looked up, wildly, tensing himself to flee, only the fact that he was currently human keeping his powers from activating.

(Well, that and... what had been done to him.)

When had Mr. Lancer gotten there?

"What?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Are- Are you alright, Mr. Fenton?"

"I'm fine," Danny said. He wasn't. His ghost half was urging him to go find a nice, dark, quiet, safe corner to hide in, preferably one in the Ghost Zone, his heart was hammering out of his chest, he'd spent the night not-sleeping in one of the guestrooms in Sam's house, and that was before even touching on his injuries.

He forced a smile. Mr. Lancer was one of the few teachers who hadn't given up on him, which was alternately touching and frustrating.

"You look sick," said Mr. Lancer. "Are you sure you don't want to call home?"

Danny's heart stuttered, his core painfully cold. "I'm sure," he said.

"Today is a project day," said Mr. Lancer. "You wouldn't be missing anything in this class, and I can talk to your other teachers."

"No, I'm fine."

The legal clerk for the family court was the kind of ghost who seemed to have fused with her role. The sleeves and collar of her shirt melded seamlessly with her skin. Her nails were brass pen nibs. The lenses of her glasses were part of her face.

She lived in either the basement or the attic of this particular building, depending on how one oriented themselves, among barely-organized stacks of books and papers. There were parchment scrolls and stone tablets, too, the later often re-purposed as elements of the room's furniture. Green-marbled filing cabinets grew out of the walls, and electronic somethings glittered out of the shadows.

The clerk had been reviewing Clockwork's paperwork for literal days. Rather, she would have been, if Clockwork hadn't surreptitiously dropped a time medallion around her neck and stopped time.

She hummed, thoughtfully. "In this document, you are using the pronoun tsai to refer to the adoptee. Are you certain you don't mean tusui? Or perhaps chahe?"

"Absolutely," said Clockwork. The intimation that he wasn't fluent in nchabhatsi was insulting. On the other hand, the requirement for that particular piece of paperwork to be in the language was also, in his opinion, rather ridiculous. Many ghosts, especially the recently dead, did not know nchabhatsi.

"The adoptee is liminal?"

"Yes," said Clockwork.

"Hmm." She stood up and flew from her desk to an inverted bookshelf anchored to the ceiling. From a box she took a huge sheaf of papers, and blew an amount of dust from them that was unhealthy even to a ghost. "It has been a while since we used these," she said, giving Clockwork a faded-ivory smile. "You'll need to fill these out and have them notarized by the proper officials before you can proceed. Liminal spirits are so rare, after all! They require special care. Oh!" Her hands fluttered. "And I'll have to get in contact with our liminality expert. That may take some time."

"If you can give me their name," said Clockwork, "I will take care of it." He gingerly took the stack of slightly-decayed paper. Had it really been so long since a partly-human child had been adopted? Probably.

"Oh, you're such a dear," said the clerk, not noticing the sudden absence of the medallion around her neck. "But that paperwork won't do itself, and-"

"It's done," said Clockwork. Fulfilling some of the new requirements had been more challenging than others and avoiding a paradox had taken considerable self-control, but what good were his temporal abilities if he couldn't use them for personal gain now and again? None at all.

"Ah," said the clerk.

Familiar, and very loud, voices spilled from the hallway near the office. Danny, one hand on his locker, trying to remember his combination, froze like a deer in headlights. His heartbeat picked up, his core buzzed frantically. He couldn't move. Grey crept in along the edges of his vision.

"... not him. It was never him! He's dead-"

"Mrs. Fenton, Mr. Fenton, I'm not sure what you're getting at, here, but your son has been at school all day, and we-"

"A ghost killed him and took his place! It's been playing a sick game with us this whole time!"

"Danny would never have gotten grades like this. We should have noticed the lower intellect right away, if nothing else."

"That's-" spluttered Mr. Lancer. "You- Daniel's work is exemplary, what little of it he turns in. I'm going to have to ask you to go back to the office-"

"No! Not until that piece of ectoplasmic scum is wiped from the face of the Earth!"

"Danny," said Tucker, much closer. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Right. Ghostly super hearing. Tucker and Sam, staring at him with concern, couldn't know.

"They're here," he managed, the words like sandpaper in his throat.

Sam uttered a word that would have sent her mother into a screeching fit. "We need to get you out of here," she said putting a hand on his back and pushing him down the hall.

"I'll run interference," said Tucker. "Make sure they can't follow you in the GAV."

"Good thinking," said Sam.

"Call me when you're safe," said Tucker, peeling off, presumably to hack the GAV.

"Danny, breathe," ordered Sam, as she propelled him through the double doors at the back of the school. "We're going to get you through this."

Clockwork had resorted to trapping the legal complex in a massive temporal bubble. Not the neatest solution, true, and it seemed to encourage the various functionaries, regulators, and bureaucrats to take even more time to process even the simplest request, but at least it would keep Daniel's suffering in the meantime to a minimum.

However, that didn't change the fact that he had been bouncing back and forth between the various floors of the building like a ping-pong ball, never getting closer to the solitary family court judge, for well over a subjective year. He was exhausted, frustrated, and he missed Daniel.

"You will be able to provide steady, stable access to the adoptee's preferred haunt?" asked his present interviewer.

"Yes," said Clockwork, dully. The room was ringed with runes that prevented deception of any kind.

"You will be able to provide shelter adequate for both his ghostly and human form?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He had answered these questions so many times before.

"You have taken the mandated class on liminality?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He was beginning to understand why other ghosts just gave up and sought extralegal solutions.

"You are aware of a liminal spirit's developmental and emotional needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. This was just so boring.

"And are you able to satisfy those needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. If only it would end.

The interviewer nodded. "Then we're done here," he said.

"Ye- What? Does that mean I can see the judge?" asked Clockwork, hopefully.

"No. That means that your adoption motion can move on to the next stage," said the interviewer. "Our liminality expert will examine your arrangements and determine whether or not they are sufficient, and we will contact law enforcement to follow up on your claim that the adoptee is being abused."

Clockwork bit back a groan. At least he was making progress.

They cut through the empty field behind the school, angling back toward the surrounding neighborhood. The grass came up to their chests, except where there were holes, mounds, and gouges from ghost fights. When there was one in the school, Danny tried to bring it out here, so people wouldn't get hurt.

He wasn't often successful.

Sam led the way. Danny felt- He felt ashamed. If his powers were working, he would be able to fly them away, or at least turn them invisible. This would all be so much easier. He could have taken care of himself, and Sam and Tucker wouldn't get in trouble, because they would definitely get in trouble for this. But he couldn't.

He couldn't even convince his parents that he was himself. He had to screw that up, too.

Before, he had thought, worse case scenario would be that they'd try to 'fix' him, to remove his ghost half, or maybe they'd think he was overshadowed. At least, he'd convinced himself of that, convinced himself that dissection would be off the table if he ever told them, that they would still love him. Maybe they might still want to do tests, but they'd love him. They wouldn't want to hurt him.

But he had been so, so wrong. They didn't believe him. They thought he had killed himself, replaced himself.

They had tried to cut him open.

(They succeeded.)

His core shuddered at the memory.

At least, though, there hadn't been any ghost attacks today. He wouldn't have been able to fight anything stronger than the Box Ghost. Heck, he might have lost to the Box Ghost. Like this, he would have to leave the ghosts to his parents, Valerie, or the GIW, none of which were particularly good options for the hunters, the ghosts, or the innocent bystanders of Amity Park.

His core pulsed uncomfortably at the thought of any of them getting hurt, including his parents.

He flinched. His core had been very jumpy, very active ever since... it... happened. Usually it only did this while he was in ghost form, and was otherwise almost dormant.

"Are you okay?" asked Sam. "Is it hurting?" She was the one who had bandaged him up last night.

"We can't stop now," said Danny.

Sam flattened her lips. "That isn't an answer. As soon as we get somewhere quiet, I'm checking you out, okay?"

"Yeah," said Danny.

When they reached the short fence, Sam gave him a boost to get over and they made their way into the suburb. There was a small library branch down the road a ways. It had a small family bathroom that Sam and Tucker had patched Danny up in before. It would be a good place to regroup before trying to put as much distance between them and Danny's parents as possible.

"We could take the city bus, I think," said Sam. "There's a stop outside the library. Maybe we could go to Elmerton?"

"Maybe," said Danny.

"Any ETA on Jazz since last night?"

Danny shook his head. "She couldn't get a flight. She's taking a Greyhound. Won't be here 'til-"

There was a beep. Danny stopped breathing. That could have been anything, a phone, a watch, a car, something from a building, but something about it tickled at Danny's brain as wrong.

"There is a ghost twenty feet in front of you."

The whine of a charging ectogun-

Sam slammed into his side, and they both fell. Danny felt the cut on his chest begin to bleed again, and he curled around it protectively. It hurt so much more than it should, and Danny wondered if that was because ghosts were ultimately shaped by their minds and his was in so much pain right now.

His parents had just shot at him. From behind. Not ghost him, Phantom him, either. Human him.

They hated him. All of him. Not just half of him.

His ghost sense went off. Because things could always get worse for Danny and the universe apparently hated him.

He struggled into a sitting position and blinked, confused. There were people surrounding him, protecting him, standing between him and his parents. Sam was shouting. Danny couldn't make out what she was saying, what anyone was saying, not with his heart pounding in his ears.

"Kid," said one man, shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Danny considered that. "No," he said, finally.

The man pulled a phone from his pocket and began saying something about calling the hospital. Normally, Danny would be worried about that, but he was looking for the ghosts. It was possible one of the more benevolent spirits that haunted Amity Park had happened across the scene, but, somehow, Danny doubted it.

His ghost sense went off again. He whimpered.

His people were in danger.

Ghosts usually came for him (he was leading them here, an evil ghost, causing all this trouble, murderer), or at least attacked him first, to get rid of him as a threat. He staggered to his feet. He had to get away. Still clutching his chest, he turned and bolted.

Almost at once, he was surrounded by ghosts in police gear. Walker's goons. Definitely stronger than the Box Ghost. Still, he was going to at least try to fight. He put his fists up. Maybe some of them would be dumb enough not to phase out of the way of his stupid human punches.

Then Walker himself descended from the sky.

"Daniel," he said, stiffly.

"Walker," returned Danny. A small part of him was grateful that Walker hadn't called him Phantom and spilled his secret. It was strange, but no ghost had ever seemed particularly inclined to do that, despite how easy it would have been.

"We have a court order to take you into custody," said Walker. "Someone wants to ask you a few questions."

Danny decided today's mood was 'pointless bravado and defiance.' "And why would I want to come with- whoa."

As Danny talked, Walker had taken a piece of paper with strange symbols written on it in green ink out from the inside pocket of his jacket. The symbols made his head spin... Or maybe that was just his injuries catching up with him. His left leg was trembling, and he wasn't sure how much longer it would hold out.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and focused on Walker. "I have no idea what that says."

Walker sighed. "Just come quietly, son. Make it easier on yourself."

Danny swallowed his discomfort at being called 'son.' "You won't hurt anyone else?" he asked.

"I'm just here for you."

There really wasn't much of a choice. Whether he went quietly or got himself beaten up even more, Walker would win and carry him off. Anyone could see that. Besides, ghost prison might be a better alternative than getting dissected by his parents.

He raised his hands in front of him, wrists together. "Go ahead, then," said Danny, flatly.

Walker nodded, and the goons converged on him. The cuffs they put around his wrists glowed green, but they had weight in a way most purely ghostly things didn't. Danny doubted that he'd be able to phase his way out of them, human or ghost. Then they picked him up and the whole swarm started to fly away.

"Yes, this is my lair," said Clockwork. "I can, however, duplicate and be both here and at the secondary residence I acquired expressly for the purpose of ensuring continuity of Daniel's human life."

The 'liminality expert' grunted. "He's still been here, though, hasn't he?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. "He has."

"And he might be here again in the future."

"Yes. I do plan to have him here, for short periods of time."

"And later, when he sheds his human life?"

"Perhaps."

"Then I need to know, are these up to OSHA standards? Your entire lair needs to be up to OSHA standards."

"They're time viewers and tools for unraveling paradoxes. OSHA, even the OSHA of the far future, does not regulate these items," said Clockwork. "Why, in the name of time, do you even need to know? Surely, OSHA didn't even exist the last time a liminal child was adopted."

"Well," said the expert, slightly sheepish. "No. But regulations state that all residences must be safe for children by both human and ghost standards."

"Then OSHA is not what you should be using," said Clockwork. "OSHA is the set of rules for occupational health and safety."

"Ah," said the expert. "Then we can move right along to the next check mark, shall we?"

"Hi," said a cheerful voice.

Danny looked up from his contemplation of the examination room table and glared balefully at the ghost who had just entered the door. They didn't seem to be affected. But then, why would they be? Danny was handcuffed to the table and clearly not a threat.

"I'm the interviewer," said the featureless ghost. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No," said Danny.

"Well," said the interviewer, "I work for the eighth authorized family court of the Infinite Realms, we're actually the only one right now, but there used to be more, and a little while ago, an adoption request was filed on your behalf."

Danny blinked and made a face. "You mean, someone stole my identity in ghost court?"

"No, no," said the interviewer, waving one amorphous hand. "Not at all. I mean to say, I ghost filed a request to legally adopt you."

"Who?" asked Danny. "Not Vlad?" Vlad was the only ghost he could think of who had demonstrated any interest in adopting him.

"No, that's not the name listed here."

"Plasmius?" asked Danny, still cringing internally.

"No."

"Then who?"

"Clockwork."

"What, seriously?" Danny liked Clockwork, and he liked to think that Clockwork liked him back, that they were friends, but the older ghost always seemed somewhat aloof.

"Yes, he was very serious. Now. I have a number of questions I need to ask you." They took out a small, glowing crystal, and set it on the table. "Do you know what this is?"

"No?" said Danny.

"It's a record crystal," said the ghost. "But one of its other functions is that it can sense deception, and record when in an interview it is being used. Go ahead, say something you know is false."

"I... like toast?"

The crystal's glow dimmed slightly before returning to its previous level.

"There, see? Very useful, don't you think?"

"I guess," said Danny. He didn't know how to feel about this. Any of this. What would ghost adoption even mean? He trusted Clockwork, but this felt like too much, too fast. He hadn't even properly processed what had happened with his parents a few hours ago.

"Right. So. We'll start with an easy one, then. Is your name Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom, also known as Danny Phantom, or simply Danny or Phantom?"

"Yes," said Danny, eyeing the crystal warily.

"And what would you prefer to go by, for the purposes of this interview?"

"Phantom," said Danny.

"Alright then, Phantom," said the interviewer, "could you please tell me where you primarily reside?"

"Fentonworks," said Danny, "in Amity Park." So far, he hadn't really had a reason to lie. All of this was common knowledge for both his human and ghostly acquaintances.

"And what would you consider to be your haunt?"

"My what?"

"Your haunt. The territory that you have metaphysically claimed."

"I- I don't really understand."

"Is there an area that you feel compelled to defend against hostile persons? An area in which non-hostile ghosts defer to you?"

"I- Yeah. I guess. Amity Park. And some of the bits around it, too."

"The entire city?"

"I guess? I don't know," said Danny. "Is that weird?"

"It would be unusual," said the interviewer.

Danny really wished the interviewer had an expression he could read. Or even just something approximating a face.

"Now, do you feel safe in your home? In 'Fentonworks?'"

The correct answer to that question would be no, but he wasn't sure he should answer. What if this was some kind of elaborate trick?

"We can come back to that," said the interviewer. "Are there any other places where you do feel safe?"

"I mean, sure?" said Danny. He fidgeted.

"Would you please share some of those places?"

"School, I guess?" Except that he got beaten up there all the time and his parents had hunted him down there and he had to escape and... Yeah.

The crystal dimmed. Danny grimaced.

"Ah," said the interviewer. "Anywhere else?"

"My friends houses," said Danny. "And the Far Frozen." To his relief, this time, the crystal stayed bright.

"Have you ever been to Clockwork's lair?"

"Yeah," said Danny. He slouched in the chair as much as possible. He wasn't sure he should be answering these questions, but he was. Maybe he should stop.

"Do you feel safe there?"

"Not at first, but now I do."

"I see. Why not at first?"

"Clockwork and I didn't meet on great terms and we sort of got into a fight." Maybe that would get the interviewer to stop. They'd decide Clockwork couldn't adopt him and leave. Did Danny want that? He wasn't sure.

"That's more common than one might expect. But you feel safe with him now?"

"Yes."

"Alright, moving on. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

There was a long, drawn out silence that managed to be skeptical despite the interviewer's lack of a face.

"I know I'm small," said Danny, insulted, "but I am sixteen."

"Excuse my indelicacy, but... how old were you when you died?"

Danny flushed. "Fourteen," he bit out.

"Then you're fourteen."

"It was two years ago. I'm sixteen."

"Fourteen is your natural age," said the ghost. "A ghost's natural age is the age they died at."

"Yeah, but I'm still half human. I'm still aging. So I'm sixteen."

The interviewer shook their head. "As a liminal spirit, your apparant age range is likely larger than a normal child's would be, but your natural age, your true age, is still fourteen. Based on records of liminals, the highest extent of your age range is most likely to be either twenty-one or twenty-eight. That's part of the reason we investigate official adoption request so thoroughly. The relationship may very well last for thousands of years, if not forever."

"Wait, are you saying I could live forever?" asked Danny, incredulous. This was not how he wanted to find out he was immortal. Heck, he didn't want to be immortal.

"I'll admit, my understanding of liminality isn't perfect, but I believe that is the case. Why? Is that problematic?"

"The results of the law enforcement investigation have come back," said the bureaucrat to whom Clockwork was currently assigned. "As well as an inquiry as to the opinion of the mortal law enforcement arm."

"And?" asked Clockwork. "Their findings?"

The bureaucrat, who had up until that point not displayed evidence that xe possessed any emotions whatsoever, made a face of extreme disgust. "When the officers found the child, the human parents were openly shooting at him. Other humans intervened for long enough for law enforcement to pick him up. Of course, they then felt the need to arrest him and carry him away in handcuffs... I have no idea why I keep at this job, really I don't."

Clockwork's core shifted in worry. His first impulse was to leap up and go comfort Daniel, but he suppressed it. If he left now, he would lose his place in line and have to start over.

"The public nature of the event means that the human police are now investigating the child's circumstances and may recommend that the child be removed from his human parents' custody. If you have a human identity and you are able to gain custody of him there, it will aid your case here."

"I am aware," said Clockwork.

"Well, then," xe said. "I believe this is all in order. Here is your ticket to see the judge. Just show it to the door. You know where it is?"

"I do," said Clockwork, rising.

He had walked by the door several times in his dealings with the various clerks and notaries. The room behind it lay directly in the heart of the family court building, all the other rooms and residents armor for this one.

The door itself was made of dark wood full of eye-shaped knots. As Clockwork approached the door, the eyes opened, watching him. He held up the ticket and the doors swung inward.

Inside was a courtroom, complete with benches, tables, a witness stand, a courtroom recorder, a judge's box, and a judge.

The judge was a one-eyed ghost in pale purple robes. She examined Clockwork.

"We had not foreseen this," she said. "Not until you filed the first motion."

"You were never able to see me clearly," said Clockwork, hoping this would not turn into a power play between himself and the Observants. "Did you receive the relevant paper work, your honor?"

"Yes," she said. "Take a seat, Lord Clockwork."

Clockwork flew to the front of the courtroom and settled himself in the applicant's chair.

The judge leaned forward. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because I love Daniel, and I believe he deserves more care and protection than he is currently receiving from his biological parents."

The judge waved a clawed hand. "Yes, yes. But you didn't have to go through all of this and get to me in order to do that. You could have just taken him. That's what most people do, nowadays. Ever since the King was sealed and our systems of governance began to decay."

"I believe it is the only way Daniel will truly be safe," said Clockwork, meeting her one eye calmly.

"You want to prevent us from 'interfering.'"

"That would be nice, yes," agreed Clockwork.

"You want this to be binding," accused the judge.

"You say that like it is a bad thing," said Clockwork. "But what else could induce him to fully remove himself from that situation? You see how they treat him. Have you looked at the medical report, yet?"

"I have," said the judge, looking at her desk. "Very well. All the paperwork is in order. I am approving you for a one-month trial period. At the end of the trial period, the status of the child will be assessed. If his state is found to be acceptable, the adoption will be approved and bound. If it is not, this court will take custody of him until such a time as an appropriate guardian can be found." She scribbled something on a piece of paper and then hit it with a stamp. "The probationary bond should be active. You may go."

"Thank you, your honor."

After the end of the interview, which had become much more distressing than Danny wanted to admit, one of Walker's goons showed up and took him away, to another room.

This room was different than any of the other rooms he had seen in Walker's prison. For one, the walls were a soft, pastel green with purple accents, not the harsh, neon pink of elsewhere in the facility. The chairs looked soft, and were arranged almost randomly, clustered in little groups, or around tables. There were colored pencils and crayons on and occasionally floating over the tables. A large basket sat in one corner, overflowing with toys of various sizes.

Alright. Danny was confused.

He let the goon- the... officer?- guide him into one of the chairs and put a stuffed rabbit on his lap.

"I- I don't understand," said Danny. "What's going on?"

"Didn't that interviewer guy tell you?"

"He said I was being adopted," said Danny, who still hadn't wrapped his head around that particular tidbit of information. "But I thought- I was under arrest?" He raised his cuffed hands. "You arrested me?"

"Those're just so you don't run away," said the ghost. He ruffled Danny's hair. "You're not under arrest. We're just waiting for the court to decide what to do with you."

"And what if they don't do anything with me?"

"Then it's up to the boss."

"Oh," said Danny, not liking the sound of that at all.

"But, if it helps, I think that the court probably will decide to do something with you."

It didn't really help, no.

"Do you want a lollipop?"

"Sure," said Danny. It wasn't like this day could get much weirder.

The ghost handed him a lime dumdum. Yeah. That was about what he expected there, honestly.

The sensation of a thick, weighted blanket being draped over his mind hit him with such intensity that he looked around, trying to see if someone had just wrapped him up in a blanket without him noticing. Tension bled out of his muscles, and his core finally stopped the angry/depressed/frightened/pained dance it was doing in his chest.

He felt... protected. Which was wrong, because he was in Walker's prison, and Walker would use any excuse he had to keep Danny imprisoned for a thousand years. Danny was not safe here. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

And yet, that feeling remained.

He brushed his fingers over the bandages over his chest. What was wrong with him? His parents hadn't even cut all the way through, but he was so messed up. He didn't understand.

This feeling... This 'safety'... It felt like a cruel joke more than anything else, only it was one he couldn't escape from because it was coming from inside him and he was calm but he was also crying.

"Oh, heck, do you not like lime? I think I have some green apples-?"

The door to the room opened, and Danny looked up. Before he could register who had come in, he was swept up into a hug.

He blinked into silky purple cloth. "Clockwork?" he croaked.

"I'm here," said Clockwork. "It's fine. You're safe now, Daniel."

Danny pushed away. Clockwork let him. "You're adopting me?" asked Danny.

"Yes," said Clockwork. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Why?" asked Danny. "I don't understand. I didn't think you liked me that much."

"I like you very much," reassured Clockwork. "I want you to be my family."

Danny sniffed. "Okay," he said. It wasn't as if he really had anywhere else to go. "Okay. But what about," he made an awkward gesture with his cuffed hands, "Amity Park?" The idea of leaving hurt, even worse than the cut on his chest.

"You won't have to leave," said Clockwork, soothingly. "You can still have your life there."

"I'll have to go back?" asked Danny, in alarm. Back to Fentonworks, where even the walls had it out for him with how much anti-ghost weaponry they had packed into them? He couldn't. Not after what his parents had done.

(A small part of him knew that wasn't what Clockwork had said, and that he was being irrational. That part of him was ignored.)

"No, no," said Clockwork. "I have a new place, just for you. If you'll let me show you?"

Very hesitantly, Danny nodded.

"Alright, good," said Clockwork. He turned to the police ghost. "Do you have the key for these? We really must be going."

"Yeah," said the ghost, producing the item. "The boss says that he expects you to teach the kid how to respect the law."

"Appropriately," said Clockwork, neutrally, unlocking the cuffs.

Danny felt an urge to hug Clockwork. So he did. Clockwork hugged him back, and rocked him back and forth, gently.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Clockwork.

"Yeah," said Danny.

With a gesture of his staff, Clockwork opened a portal.

Clockwork wanted custody of Danny. He wanted full custody of Danny. Legally. In both worlds.

This posed a bit of a challenge, as he did not legally exist on one of those two worlds. Thus, Clockwork had to establish a legal presence in the human world.

On the surface of it, this did not seem too difficult. Between his temporal powers, his minor shapeshifting abilities, and overshadowing, simply creating an identity was easy. The hard part was creating an identity that Daniel would not have encountered before, in order to avoid a paradox, while making it plausible that Daniel had encountered the identity before, for the purposes of dealing with mortal law.

In one timeline, the hill to the west of town stood empty of habitation, owned by the county but rendered unusable due to a dangerous failed mine on the site. In this timeline, however, the mine had never been built, and the property was instead owned by a reclusive hermit who went by the name of Charles Worth. The property had passed through many hands in the years before Mr. Worth had purchased it in his youth, and a stately, if somewhat faded, mansion sat at the hill's crest, overlooking Amity Park.

Charles Worth went to Amity Park only rarely, and for good reason. He was an albino, with red eyes, white hair, and even whiter skin, and superstitious people often thought the worst of him. In recent days, he had even been mistaken for a ghost.

'Mistaken.'

He rubbed Daniel's shoulders, and the child startled, pulling away from him again. Daniel had missed Clockwork's, admittedly minor, transformation, and now blinked up at his newly pale face, confused.

"Do you like my disguise?" asked Clockwork.

Daniel's eyes flicked up and down Clockwork, assessing, processing. He gave a tiny nod, and reattached himself. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Hickory Hill," said Clockwork.

Danny frowned, mouthing the words. "Isn't that owned by... Charles Worth. Charles- Oh. I get it."

Clockwork gave Danny a little squeeze. "Would you like to see inside?"

"Okay," said Danny.

The house, Danny had to acknowledge, as they approached the front door, looked haunted. As if some pale, frail, spirit might look out one of the lace-draped windows on the upper floor at any moment. As if there was a Gothic mystery just waiting to unfold. A murder mystery, maybe, full of forbid love and jealous lovers. Or the tale of a sickly heir to a great fortune.

Or that of an ancient ghost and his adopted half-living son.

Even before they stepped inside, Danny's ghost half had decided it loved the building.

The door, as Clockwork opened it, creaked in a loving sort of way, the tone low enough to be comforting instead of annoying. The entrance hall's floorboards did not creak under the weight of the ghosts, but Danny could tell that if a human tried to cross them, they would. He hoped the rest of the floors were like that.

He padded forward, daringly leaving the protection of Clockwork's cloak, examining all the dark nooks and crannies, the odd architectural choices arising from generations of additions, smiling at cold spots. Clockwork shut the door. Even then, there was a draft, curling around his ankles, cool and refreshing.

Danny smiled. It was small and strained, but it was a smile. "It's perfect," he said.

"Don't you want to see your room before you say that?" teased Clockwork.

"Yes," said Danny.

Clockwork led Danny to a staircase with an elaborately carved banister and began to climb. Danny followed eagerly. He had never thought his core would be so happy simply to have somewhere safe to exist.

It almost was enough to let him forget what his parents had done to him. He stopped, hand on his chest.

"Daniel?" said Clockwork. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," said Danny, automatically.

Clockwork frowned, the expression both familiar and foreign on Clockwork's falsely-human face. "Why don't we take a look at that, once we get to your room, alright?"

Danny nodded, swallowing back his irrational fear.

They went up, and Clockwork opened the door to a large room, much larger than the one he had back at Fentonworks. The bed was similarly large and equipped with curtains and enough blankets and pillows to turn it into a nest at a moment's notice. The walls and ceiling were painted a deep blue, with tiny green-white dots picking out a star map. The room also contained a number of carefully curated hiding places, areas where the dressers wardrobe or desk created blind spots and deep shadows. The floor was carpeted, but still icy.

It was an excellent room for a ghost (or half-ghost) like Danny.

He was too nervous to enjoy it.

Clockwork pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. It was a little strange to see Clockwork actually sitting and not floating or coiling. Actually-

"Can you have legs in ghost form?" asked Danny.

"I can," said Clockwork. "But typically I don't bother." He patted the bed. "Let's take a look at you."

Danny hesitated, holding his hands clasped in front of his chest. Clockwork's face went soft.

"I just want to make sure you are healing. I know this is difficult, but neither you nor I want things to get worse."

"I'm fine," said Danny. "I heal fast. It was just- It should be gone now. I've gotten worse."

"Is it?" asked Clockwork.

Danny could still feel it. "I don't know," said Danny.

Clockwork patted the bed again. Danny sat down and started fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

"Would you like help?" asked Clockwork.

"No," said Danny. He pulled his sweater off. Taking off his t-shirt was harder. Then there were just Sam's bandages. He bit his lip a the red and brown blotches staining them.

"Would you like to talk about it?" asked Clockwork, taking one end of the bandage and starting to unwind it.

"I don't know," said Danny. "I just- It's so stupid. I shouldn't have- They saw me walk through a door and- They don't even know I'm Phantom. They just-" Danny hiccuped. "They tried to cut me open. They pretended."

Clockwork pulled free the last layer of bandages. The long, shallow cut was still there, straight along his breast bone until the end, where it curved sharply right and tapered off. That was when Danny had jerked free of the restraints and ran.

"Why isn't it healing?" asked Danny.

"It isn't just a physical wound, Daniel. Ghosts are spiritual creatures."

"Oh," said Danny. It made a sick kind of sense. "So my core is really hurt? I thought I was just... That it was in my head."

Clockwork raised a hand to touch the bottom of the cut. "Your parents are important to you, and to your Obsession, your existence as a ghost. Of course their rejection would affect you." The cut began to knit itself together underneath Clockwork's fingers. Danny's core thrummed strangely at the touch. "I can heal your physical injuries."

"But not the mental ones, huh?" said Danny.

"You need time for that," said Clockwork, reaching the top of the cut.

"Good thing I have you, then."

"It is," said Clockwork. He leaned forward and kissed Danny on top of his head.

Danny ran his fingers up and down the newly healed cut. "So my powers aren't going to work until, what, I get over this?"

"That is one possibility," said Clockwork. "But everyone heals differently."

"Can't you tell?" asked Danny, reaching for his shirt.

"The more involved I am in an event, the more difficult it becomes for me to see its future," said Clockwork. "The timeline branches and splinters as I look at it. Also, it may surprise you, but you are fairly difficult to predict on your own."

"Oh," said Danny. He pulled his shirt on, ignoring how it caught on the dried blood on his skin. "So, what now? Should I just, I don't know, hide out here? I mean," he shifted, uncomfortably, "It's fine if I can't let anyone know I'm here, I get that, but I'd like to, um..."

"Live your life?"

Danny flinched. "As much as I can, yeah." He licked his lips. "Sam and Tucker didn't get in trouble, did they? They're fine?" He'd been so wrapped up in how miserable he was, he'd barely spared his friends a second thought, and now that guilt from that rained down on his head.

"They're fine. Due to the circumstances, they haven't gotten in any trouble at all, so stop that."

"What?"

"Feeling guilty. I know for a fact that the safety of others was your first consideration." Clockwork patted his shoulder. "As for your continued presence here on the mortal plane," Clockwork smiled, "would it surprise you to learn that I am in fact registered as a foster parent? I have even had a few children here, although not many stay for long."

"Really?" said Danny. "But... Wait, um. What about- What about Mom and Dad?"

"They were seen shooting at you in public after insisting that you were a ghost. They've been arrested."

Danny swallowed. "Are they going to be alright?"

Clockwork sighed and shifted so that he was sitting on the bed next to Danny. He put an arm around Danny's shoulders. "They'll be fine," he said. "But we should come up with a story about how you wound up here, hm? For the social workers."

During Daniel's periodic visits to Clockwork's lair, Clockwork had noted how tactile he was, how much he enjoyed hugs and other physical expressions of affection. After Daniel got past his initial hesitation concerning his new situation, that particular personality trait multiplied.

Clockwork suspected the Fentons were ultimately to blame. Their hostility towards Daniel's ghostly identity and their tendency to carry objects that could hurt Daniel precluded him from seeking comfort from them, and his friends and sister, while very remarkable, were children themselves. Their relationship with Daniel was different.

This meant that Daniel could and would spend long periods of time laying against Clockwork. Usually, he would be doing homework during those moments or talking to Clockwork about various ghostly things that he had never had a chance to learn about before.

Today, however, he was just sitting there, quietly, almost dozing.

"I'm not keeping you from doing things?" asked Daniel, abruptly. "Am I?"

"No," said Clockwork.

"You don't have to do time stuff?"

"I can make duplicates and also time travel. I can be wherever I need to be. But if you want space-"

"No," said Daniel. "This is good." He snuggled closer and startled as a ring of light flashed around his waist. He was, for the first time since before his parents had attacked him, a ghost. Clockwork, in turn, shed his human guise.

Daniel was blinking down at his gloved hands.

"What?" he asked.

"I think you finally relaxed," said Clockwork, ruffling Daniel's hair. The smaller ghost leaned into the touch, purring. "Your transformations might be a bit unpredictable for the next few days."

"Good thing it's a weekend, then, huh?"

Danny jittered nervously as he and Clockwork passed through the large, eye-covered doors. This time last week, strange ghosts had been in and out of Clockwork's house, asking questions, poking things, and staring. Clockwork said they were checking to see if everything was in order, if the adoption could become official.

Danny didn't really see why it being official mattered. The Ghost Zone didn't really have a government to speak of. Families that Danny had seen just sort of decided that they were families, and that was that. It seemed important to Clockwork, though, and Clockwork claimed that there were certain benefits, like strengthening connections... Danny didn't get it. Wouldn't their connections be strengthened anyway?

Clockwork guided Danny with small nudges, directing him to a seat in front of the judge, who stared down at them with her one enormous eye.

"I have decided to approve the adoption request regarding Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom," she said.

Danny felt Clockwork relax incrementally beside him. He smiled. The judge's pronouncement felt a little anticlimactic to him, but, well, whatever.

But the judge wasn't done speaking. "The child's familial bond with his biological parents will be severed. The familial bond will be established with his current guardian, known as Clockwork. On all levels legal, physical, metaphysical, metaphorical, emotional, mental, and spiritual, Clockwork will be the sole parent of Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom. Due to the child's status as a liminal spirit, the memories and associations stored in his human brain will not be altered, and he may still experience feelings, especially those of nostalgia, towards his former parents, however, this is expected to fade with time. Questions?"

Danny had rather a lot, actually. Clockwork hadn't quite explained it like this. "Wait, are you saying I'll forget my parents?"

"No," said the judge, in a rather condescending tone.

"You won't forget them," said Clockwork. "But your core won't recognize them as your parents anymore. It's so you'll be able to defend yourself." His tone was almost pleading. "Your relationship with your sister will, of course, be unaffected."

"Okay," said Danny. They clearly didn't see him as their son anymore, so... It wouldn't really change anything. He didn't like the idea of ghosts he didn't know messing around with his core, but he trusted Clockwork. Even if he was apparently really bad at explaining ghost adoption. "What about the other stuff? The physical, metaphysical part?"

"The severed bonds in your core are replaced with ones to your new parent. Similarly, new bonds will be established in your parent's core," explained the judge. "Are you satisfied?"

Clockwork gave Danny an encouraging smile.

"I- Yes. I'm satisfied," said Danny.

"Very well." The judge waved forward a seven armed bailiff who had been waiting in the corner of the room.

The bailiff carried two tall glasses and a large, covered pitcher. He set one glass each in front of Clockwork and Danny and poured a thick, white, faintly glowing liquid into each of them.

"What is it?" asked Danny.

"It is a potion designed to stop our cores from fighting the changes that are about to happen," said Clockwork.

Danny looked at the potion dubiously. "Like an anesthetic?"

"Like an anesthetic," agreed Clockwork. He had already picked up his cup. "Together?"

"Okay," said Danny, still doubtful.

He picked up the cup and brought it to his lips, watching Clockwork carefully over the rim. Clockwork tipped his cup back, and so did Danny.

The potion reminded him a lot of eggnog, except that it was thicker, heavier, sweeter, like it had been mixed with honey. Almost at once, that heaviness settled into Danny's bones, weighing him down, a sensation just to the left of sleep settled over him. He lowered the cup from his face, his grip on it going gentle. The bailiff caught it as it tipped over.

Clockwork reached over and gently, slowly, pulled him close. Then he went as limp as Danny.

Inside, Danny's core became open. Not open, as in vulnerable, but as in receptive. Listening. He felt soft. Malleable. Like someone could press their thumb into him, and it would leave an impression when he hardened again. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation.

The judge sighed with something like disapproval. "So mote it be." She raised a stamp up off her desk, brought it down, and things changed.

Or, at least, Danny did.

Clockwork, being the elder ghost, recovered faster from the potion than Daniel. There was no reason to stay at the court, so, after bidding a goodbye to the judge, he picked Daniel up and left, flying a polite distance before opening a portal back to their home outside Amity Park.

He settled Daniel down in his bed, phasing him beneath his covers and tucking him in. Daniel would need to sleep off the potion, as well as take time to adjust to the changes to his psyche, however minor they might be.

"I love you so much," said Clockwork, brushing Daniel's hair out of his face. Getting here had taken subjective years of work and planning but it was worth it, because now Daniel was his child, in every way that mattered.

Forever.

Yes, that ending line was a little bit ominous, but they're ghosts. They wouldn't be happy if it wasn't ominous!

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

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fencer-x · 4 years

Text

Fencer’s Big Eva Review

Just got done watching the Eva finale, so it’s time to get out thoughts while they’re fresh! Caveat: Eva is difficult to understand for native speakers, and I’m definitely not a native speaker XD I feel like I got maybe half, and got the rough gist of like 10% of the rest, and the remaining was just no friggin’ clue. Would’ve gone better if there’d at least been JP subs, but you’ll have to deal with what I’ve got for now!

It should be obvious, but there’ll be HELLA MAJOR SPOILERS for the final Evangelion movie. Ready? Let’s go.

The movie very helpfully starts off with a ~2 min recap of the movies thus far. This was great because I didn’t have time to rewatch the previous three before going, and while I’ve seen them a few times, it took me a second the recall what had happened at the very end of Q, so I was glad to get a very brief recap.

The actual movie itself opens on...Paris! Or Paris post-Near-Third-Impact (Third Impact?), which is a red and black wasteland. It seems that Wille has been developing these things that look like Entry Plugs that they shove into the ground and restore everything to pre-all-impacts (so like, blue water and everything); couldn’t get HOW it managed that, but they had them and were attempting to restore Paris.

Would have been a walk in the park except for weird Eva-Angel-Machine hybrids that were trying to prevent them from activating the plugs. Lots of fighting happens, with Mari piloting her Eva to give them cover while the Wille staff set everything up. Eventually they manage it, and Euro Nerv is restored.

Then we switch over to right where Q left off: Asuka, Clone!Rei, and a catatonic Shinji wandering around trying to go who knows where. They eventually get picked up by...Touji! Yes, an older Touji now who lives in a commune of survivors, scraping out a semblance of a life in one of the areas protected by the aforementioned plugs (they had another name but I couldn’t get it).

In this community, Touji is the local doctor--and he’s married with a kid! He married Hikari, and they have an infant daughter named Tsubame.

Now, let’s check in how our main three do when introduced to this relatively normal life they get to enjoy for a few weeks:

Asuka: Still in ‘fight mode’, ready to go at a moment’s notice. How she thinks she’s gonna fight when she has no Eva idk, but for this entire little bit, she’s either naked or in her plugsuit. She stays with Aida Kensuke, who’s kind of the handyman, and is generally just rude af.

Shinji: For 90% of this bit, he’s totally shut off. He’s incredibly fucked up from having JUST watched Kaworu die, essentially because of him, and Asuka has on a DSS choker, and every time he sees it, he collapses and begins vomiting violently. He stays with the Suzuharas at first but is quickly sent to stay with Asuka and Kensuke because they don’t really know how to deal with him. Kensuke manages to get him to open up a little bit, but eventually it’s Rei who gets him started on the path back to being himself. At one point he runs away and ‘lives’ alone for a while in what I think was either the building where he first met Kaworu playing the piano or one that looked a lot like it. He goes out to do odd jobs with Kensuke a lot, and on one occasion he’s taken to an ‘outdoor lab’ where some workers are experimenting with new gardening techniques. It’s here he’s meets...Kaji Ryouji. No, not that Kaji Ryouji. That Kaji DIED. This is the son he had with Misato (named after him).

Rei: Now, let me say I’ve never been super interested in Rei. I didn’t dislike her, like I did Asuka, but I wasn’t really interested in her either. She was just there. Guys.....I LOVED REI IN THIS MOVIE. I would have watched 2.5 hours of the Rei Learns To Be A Human show and been happy for the $20 I paid. Rei spends her time in the commune learning to be an individual. She stays with the Suzuharas and learns what different words mean, like “Good morning” and “Good night” and “Thank you” and “Goodbye”, she gets super close with a bunch of old ladies who essentially adopt her and teach her how to plant turnips and what a bath is, and she becomes her own person. When she first arrives, the Suzuharas think she’s “Ayanami Rei”, but she explains that she isn’t, so they call her “Sokkuri-san” instead (”Miss Spitting Image” essentially), and the old ladies find it amusing at first but then encourage her to choose her own name, and when she can’t think of one, they tell her to have someone choose one for her, so she asks the Uber-Depressed Shinji to choose one. These interactions are what eventually pull him back to himself, but ultimately he’s unable to come up with one, because “Ayanami is Ayanami”. She thanks him for trying anyway, returns his SD player to him..............................and then dissolves into a pile of LCL fluid, as apparently all clones eventually return to LCL. Fantastic, because Shinji didn’t need EVEN MORE TRAUMA.

Somehow, the above doesn’t break Shinji, and he resolves to go back to Wille and face his father I guess?? I’m not entirely clear on why (gotta go read some reports of my own I guess lol). Back on the ship with Misato et al., Shinji isn’t forced to wear a choker but he’s put in a cell with like explosives in it I guess. He starts having visions of Kaworu helping him accept things.

At this point it’s getting close to the climax, and Wille are going after Nerv/Gendo once and for all. During the final fight, Asuka tried to take out Unit 13′s core, and then she’s not managing it, she rips off her eyepatch, and we see that the patch was keeping the 9th angel bound within her eye, so she decides to throw away her humanity and let it take over to destroy Unit 13. Unfortunately, she’s killed in the end--how? She’s approached by a vision of her ‘original’. Yup, Asuka was a clone herself, like Rei, and she turns back into LCL and she and unit 02 are absorbed by Unit 13.

Eventually the fight comes down to Shinji vs. Gendo, who has thrown away his own humanity and bonded with Unit 13 in the hopes of completing the Human Instrumentality Project. He and Shinji go head to head as Shinji summons (???) Unit 01 from inside Unit 13, and there’s a really REALLY WEIRD final fight between the two that involves some weird animation choices. Lots of storyboards and overly CGI’d CGI, and some bits that seem to take them through the different incarnations of the Eva series.

We also get Gendo backstory by the boatload as he and Shinji have an actual goddamn conversation for once. Mari features prominently in Gendo’s flashbacks so she was definitely one of his classmates it seems, who introduced him to Fuyutsuki. I’m still not entirely clear on who she is/was.

However, through this conversation, Shinji gives the people he’s interacted with most closely/been closest with closure I guess? Gendo, Asuka...Kaworu.

So about Kaworu. Their conversation was VERY VERY WEIRD; it’s made clear that Shinji is also now aware of all the different iterations of their meeting. When they talk, it’s set at the beach where they first met in the TV series, and Shinji says he remembers all the times they’ve met before. Shinji mentions that Kaworu reminds him a lot of his father, and then there are some very strange flashbacks (????) of Kaworu’s that I feel like imply he’s to Gendo as Rei is to Yui. At one point, he’s seen talking to Fuyutsuki, trying to decide on a name for himself and settling on ‘Nagisa’ as it means ‘beach’, where the ocean meets the land. Fuyutsuki later addresses Kaworu, who’s sitting in Gendo’s desk, as “Commander Nagisa”. Kaworu reflects to Shinji that he failed so many times to make Shinji happy, but he’s realized now that that’s because he doesn’t know what would make Shinji happy and it was arrogant to think he knew better. He was looking for his own happiness all along.

In the end, after all these goodbyes, Shinji is left with the decision of what to do with, well, reality. He decides, in a conversation with Rei, that he’ll reset everything--create a ‘neon genesis’--to a world without Eva or Angels.

Our last shot is an older Shinji meeting his (presumed??) girlfriend Mari on a train platform. On the opposite platform waiting for their own train are Kaworu, Asuka, and Rei. Shinji and Mari hold hands and run, laughing, from the train station.

NEON GENESIS EVANGELION GOT A HAPPY ENDING. 2021 REALLY BE OUT HERE WILDING.

My final thoughts:

Okay I’ll say it: the fuck with Shinji/Mari endgame? Believe me, it was completely out of left field even in this movie. They just happened to be the only final survivors. Mari flirted a hell of a lot more with ASUKA and was distraught at her death than she did with Shinji. They were a kind of cute couple in the end, but very ?????

I’m disappointed Shinji wasn’t the one to give Kaworu his happiness in the end, after Kaworu spent so long and so many lives and realities trying to make him happy and failing. I’m choosing to believe, since these multiple realities/resets are canon now, that he did it in one of them. They all deserve the happiness of their choosing, not just Shinji’s, and Kaworu showed us time and time again that his happiness definitively involves being with Shinji.

I’m sure I missed a lot, because yanno, Eva, and it was long enough as is, but gosh I wish I could’ve understood more of everything that was going on, cause there was SO MUCH WEIRD SHIT.

If I watch this movie again, I will 500% just be watching those “Rei learns to be human with the help of a bunch of old cackling biddies” bits :> Those were THE BEST PARTS OF THE MOVIE.

#neon genesis evangelion #spoilers #review

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] S2 Gavin - The STF Filming Project (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a company project which has not been released in other servers!🍒

Do note that this post features S2 Gavin, but doesn’t contain S2 spoilers.

Timeline: The Guardian Project -> The STF Filming Project -> Dangerous Night Date

[ CHAPTER ONE ]

The brilliance of dawn filters through the shutters, illuminating the office.

The fingers tapping on the keyboard are slightly sore. I stretch. Without realising it, it’s already daybreak.

Displayed on the screen is the collaborative filming proposal I’ve been working on for several nights in a row, spanning over a hundred pages -- “A day in the Special Task Force”.

Previously, [MC’s Company Name], the government, and the STF’s collaborative criminal documentary received a surge of good reviews.

The audience also developed a huge curiosity and fervour regarding the daily life of STF members.

I originally wanted to ride on this popularity to produce a program formally introducing the STF. But right after the proposal was submitted, it was rejected mercilessly.

Although it’s understandable, I can’t help but suspect that Gavin doesn’t want to establish working relations with me.

Hence, I pump myself up, heightening my efficiency and working on the proposal in front of me.

MC: I don’t believe that this wouldn’t get approved by STF!

I’ve already sent the latest proposal two hours ago via email. The dawn is just breaking, so I don’t know when I’d receive a response...

My phone on the table suddenly lights up, the screen displaying a number I couldn’t be more familiar with.

I’m in a daze for a second, then hastily press the ‘answer’ button.

MC: Gavin, good morning.

Gavin: For this collaborative film--

MC: Hold on, don’t reject me so quickly! I’ve sent you the most recent filming proposal two hours ago, and added many more details.

On the other end of the line, Gavin is silent for a while.

Gavin: ...I’ve seen it.

I pause, a little nervous as I wait for Gavin’s final verdict.

MC: In that case, do you have any constructive ideas or advice--

Gavin: All right.

MC: What?

Gavin: The STF agrees to the filming.

His response is straightforward and succinct. The drowsiness in my head dissipates instantly.

MC: So it’s agreed! I’ll bring the film crew over to observe the site immediately.

Gavin: ...I’m not done. There’s one additional condition.

MC: It’s all right, I’ll agree to any condition.

The sound of taciturn breathing can be heard from the other end of the line.

Gavin: Hearing this from you is sufficient.

Before I can probe further, he hangs up.

MC: No matter what, these days of hard work didn’t go to waste!

After this, all I have to do is wait for the official filming and that unstated condition.

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

At 7am, the car stops outside the entrance of STF punctually. The officer in charge of receiving us, Xiao Zheng, is already waiting for us.

Xiao Zheng: Please follow me.

After going through a strict verification of our identities and an examination, we formally step into STF’s symbolic building.

According to the rules, we can access areas typically open to outsiders, and a few office buildings. We are prohibited from entering confidential areas.

Even so, the film crew maintains a high level of enthusiasm.

Kiki: Do all the special police have special equipment? For example, something which looks like a pen on the outside but is actually a powerful hand grenade, like in 007?

Minor: I heard they even have spectacles that can obtain someone’s information after scanning their pupils!

Seeing that Xiao Zheng is being put on the spot, I step in to mediate the situation.

MC: We’re just here to present a day in STF to the public. Isn’t a relaxed, mundane side of things even more interesting?

Minor and Kiki nod regretfully. A miserable, shrill cry suddenly drifts from the room at the end of the corridor.

Willow: Is there an interrogation going on? Are we allowed to collect materials on that?

Right after she finishes speaking, the electronic door opens slowly.

A special police officer pounds on his back, groaning as he walks out.

Special Police A: Hey Xiao Zheng, let me use another one of your muscle patches. My old affliction is acting up again. I almost died from the pain when I bent down just now.

The corridor lapses into complete silence.

MC: [coughs] ...actually, this is also a very interesting detail.

I turn towards Xiao Zheng, who is forcing himself to smile, and I give him an encouraging look.

Xiao Zheng: [coughs] ...l-let’s head over there.

?: How much longer were you planning to pore over the files in the office? If I didn’t call you, would you not eat at all?

??: ...I’m not hungry.

Following Xiao Zheng and entering this spacious and bright location, I hear a familiar voice from in front.

Gavin and Eli are standing not afar off. Seeing a line of people with cameras, their expressions grow slightly surprised.

Minor: Bro Gavin!

MC: This place is...

Xiao Zheng: [coughs] STF’s canteen. People don’t usually eat here though...

Accidentally meeting my eyes directly, Gavin faces away from me slightly.

Gavin: I don’t really come here.

Eli: Of course you don’t. You’re either out on a mission or poring over documents in the office.

It happens to be noon, and only a sparse number of special officers are dining in this spacious and bright canteen hall.

The cameras turn, pointing towards the tidy and clean kitchen and the array of healthy dishes behind the glass window. Xiao Zheng starts his explanation.

Xiao Zheng: All our meals are planned by a nutritionist, who takes into account their nutritional value, and prioritises foods that strengthen the body. As for the taste...

Special Officer B: Don’t you find stir-fried carrots appearing way too frequently?

Special Officer C: I think you should be eating more carrots to strengthen eyesight though. You did too poorly in your last shooting test.

Special Officer B: You... If you’re that capable, don’t get me to sneak you fruit pancakes every morning.

Coincidentally, two special officers walk past us, grumbling while carrying their plates.

Xiao Zheng: ...mm, it isn’t that perfect.

Eli and Gavin are seated at a dining table. Minor hurriedly rushes forward, pulling us over to sit opposite Gavin.

I can't help but look at Gavin's plate, and watch as he frowns while picking out the biter gourd on his plate.

Minor: Bro Gavin, you’ve been working really hard these days. I’ll give my chicken drumstick to you.

Gavin blocks Minor’s chopsticks coldly.

Gavin: No need.

Minor: ...I’ll give it to Boss then.

MC: I don’t need it either. I think it’s good to eat more vegetables - it’s healthy for the body.

I chew on the mediocre-tasting broccoli, concealing a smile as I look at Gavin in front of me.

He purses his lips, then suddenly lifts his chopsticks.

Gavin: I’ll give these to you then.

In the blink of an eye, all the bitter gourd on his plate are brought over to mine. This unexpected action causes everyone to freeze.

A period of silence ensues.

Kiki: ...Boss, I’ll give mine to you then.

Willow: Mine too...

Minor: Mine t--!

MC: ...I can’t finish them all!

Looking at the mountain of bitter gourd on my plate, I suddenly understand what they mean by “asking for trouble”.

[Note] MC uses an idiom here - “自讨苦吃” (“zi tao ku chi”), which literally translates to “asking for bitter things to eat” HAHA

[ CHAPTER THREE ]

In response to numerous requests from the female audience, we have collaborated with the STF to produce a special episode on self-defense.

At the seminar venue, there are no empty seats. A few special officers appear, and they are welcomed with cheers.

The program proceeds in an orderly manner. My line of sight shifts from the surveillance camera, and onto Gavin at the side.

MC: No matter what, I have to thank you for coming down today.

Gavin: The position of commander is temporarily vacant, so I’m handling this matter. This is one of my duties.

His emphasis on the word “duties” doesn’t leave any room for ingratiation at all.

I release a sigh in my heart, a little gloomy as I return my gaze back to the stage.

There are two special officers - one is pretending to be a victim, while the other is pretending to be an assaulter. They are currently demonstrating basic self-defense methods according to requests from the audience.

Special Officer: ...use your elbow to hit the temple of the other party. Using your kneecap to strike the abdomen of the assaulter is also a very effective counter-attack. Like this--

MC: These methods look simple. But when put into practice, they should be quite difficult, right?

Gavin: You actually worry about your safety?

Gavin glances at me. He leans against the back of the chair, speaking to me softly while flipping through pages.

I stand up, sneakily heading over to look at what he’s reading. As expected, it’s a stack of obscure, difficult to understand criminal investigation materials.

MC: I really learnt a little about it.

From his expression, it seems as though he doesn’t quite believe me. I’m suddenly struck with an idea.

MC: Actually, a very skilled and very kind person taught me a little. When I was doing a recording once, I met a stranger who kept pestering me. This very kind person stepped forward and helped me resolve the issue.

[Note] She’s referring to Gavin’s Film Studio Date -clutches chest-

The fingers flipping through the pages pause, but he doesn’t say anything.

MC: He even taught me a few self-defense methods. I always keep them in my heart, and am very grateful to him.

A hint of a ripple finally stirs in Gavin’s tranquil expression. He lifts his head, and our eyes meet.

Gavin: Simply learning these things isn’t enough. When facing different scenarios, you have to adopt different responses.

He sets down the stack of materials on the table, and suddenly stands up. The shadow cast by our height difference makes me instinctively take a step backwards.

Gavin: In these situations, what is tested is one’s vigilance and reaction speed.

MC: !

Gavin’s movements are incredibly fast, and I have absolutely no time to see what he’s doing. Both my hands are restrained by him.

My back is pressed firmly against the cold mirror, and countless similar scenes flash in my mind.

Gavin: Did that person teach you how to handle such a situation?

His voice is levelled, and it rouses me from my thoughts.

I take a deep breath, lifting my head to meet the pair of amber eyes underneath strands of brown coloured hair.

MC: ...no.

Even though he’s using very little strength this time, I can’t break free.

The door to the resting area is pushed open.

Hearing the sound, Gavin is slightly stunned and instinctively releases my hands. But it’s already too late.

The sound of laughter from behind instantly vanishes.

Staff: S-sorry for disturbing... we’ve walked into the wrong room.

MC: So... if I meet assaulters who come from behind me, I should counter-attack like this, right?

I raise my volume, desperately hinting at Gavin to cooperate.

Gavin: ...mm.

As expected, the murmurings behind grow softer.

Staff A: That almost scared me to death. So it was just a live demonstration...

Staff B: That’s right, that’s right. Our producer is also a young female, so it’s normal to learn self-defense skills.

Once they leave, Gavin hurriedly turns around.

After a moment of wordless silence, he speaks.

Gavin: ...I need to return to STF. I’ll be off now.

MC: Oh, okay...

I raise my head, and see Gavin looking as though he wants to speak, but he stops himself. Under the lights, the tips of his ears are slightly flushed.

[ CHAPTER FOUR ]

The previous shoots have received very good results. On this clear morning, a team from the company is preparing to go along with the original plan to capture some live training in STF.

However, a sudden Evol criminal incident has disrupted the plan. We adjusted our plans, and after obtaining permission, we’ve decided to film this operation.

On the roof of an unfinished building not afar off, there’s a young teenager who is being held hostage by a middle-aged man wielding a knife.

Passer-by A: I heard that this troublemaking teenager hit someone while street racing, and refused to apologise. Who knew that he had crashed into an absconding Evolver criminal...

Passer-by B: I’ve also heard about this fellow’s gang, which rides motorbikes at a breakneck speed. Sigh, kids these days really don’t learn well. This wouldn’t happen if they studied seriously.

I clear my throat, looking at Gavin who is beside me

MC: Continuing this deadlock isn’t a solution. My Evol might be able to help.

I lower my voice, pointing at the criminal, who doesn’t seem mentally stable. Gavin doesn’t acknowledge what I said, pulling me out of the crowd.

MC: H-how about I just stand at a side and watch? That should be okay, right?

The communication device in his ear sounds. Gavin pauses in his steps, his brows furrowing slightly.

Gavin: ...all right, let him take charge of this sniping mission.

He lifts his head, his gaze sweeping past the dilapidated residential building on the opposite side of the unfinished building.

Only now do I notice that behind the water tank on the roof, there’s a figure with a rifle.

Gavin: He’s a new member.

Gavin sees the incomprehension in my face, and lowers his voice to explain.

Looks like this mission is a test for this new member. And the reason why Gavin is amidst the crowd is to prevent anything unexpected from happening.

Gavin: ...the criminal didn’t notice. Prepare to fire.

The criminal is currently standing at the edge of the unfinished building, agitatedly dishing out conditions to the police. He brings his hostage one step forward.

Even though I’ve seen such a sight so many times, I still hold my breath anxiously.

Gavin: Now!

Once the clear and powerful voice leaves his lips, a gunshot is fired, but it only brushes the criminals shoulder, hitting the wall behind him.

Everyone freezes. Following that, another gunshot sounds.

The criminal releases a miserable cry, clasping at his bleeding thigh as he kneels on the ground.

In just a moment, the special officers concealed in the surroundings hastily keep the Evolver criminal under control, and rescue the hostage.

MC: That’s wonderful, this incident was handled without any mishaps!

The new member returns to the ground, his face deathly pale - as though he’s a completely different person from the heroic wielder of the sniper rifle earlier.

He hobbles over to Gavin, his expression slightly ashamed.

Gavin nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Since this is the special officer’s very first actual combat training, mistakes should be forgiven... But as the Captain, Gavin wouldn’t simply let go of mistakes during a mission, right...

Thoughts drift in my mind, and I subconsciously look in Gavin’s direction. He has walked away, with the new member trailing behind him

Gavin’s face is mostly expressionless. He says something, and the new member lowers his head even more.

The conversation ends quickly.

Gavin: Return to your team.

Newbie: Captain Gavin, I joined the STF because of you!

The new member suddenly flushes, exclaiming loudly.

Gavin: [sighs] ...

Newbie: You’ve always been the role-model I’m striving towards, and the idol I learn from! I’ll definitely reflect deeply on my mistake, and will meet your expectations!

Gavin: Enough!

Gavin cuts him off, his face darkening.

Minor: Hey hey hey, if you want to acknowledge Big Bro, you should be queuing behind me, right?

Minor is standing behind me, muttering indignantly.

Kiki: How’s it going, Boss? Have you got all the materials?

MC: Mm...

I hand over the memory card in my hand to Kiki, but my gaze subconsciously drifts to the new member and Gavin.

Under the evening sun, that new member seems to continue berating himself for his mistake, but his complexion looks slightly better.

After he leaves, I walk over to Gavin, and my curiosity causes me to speak up.

MC: What did Captain Gavin say to him? Is it a convenient time for an interview?

Gavin casts me a light glance, and answers in a casual manner.

Gavin: Ten cross-country training sessions, twenty sniper training sessions.

MC: ...STF is truly the strictest in the world.

Gavin: Such mistakes aren’t allowed during STF missions.

...I can now somewhat understand the thought process of those special officers who hold Gavin in veneration despite being around the same age as he is.

MC: ...looks like the people you have your eye on are really in danger.

Gavin seems to think of something. He looks at me, a minuscule smile suddenly surfacing on his lips.

The glow of sunset brings out the beautiful amber in his eyes. Being watched by him in such a serious manner, my cheeks heat up for an inexplicable reason.

Gavin: You should wrap up your work, and not stay here.

MC: Hold on! I still have a question.

Gavin: What is it?

MC: The condition you asked me to promise you on the first day - what is it?

Gavin is slightly startled. From his reaction, I finally confirm that he has completely forgotten about this matter!

And I’m also more and more convinced that this condition was brought up at the spur of the moment. He deliberately brought it up in the event that I cause some kind of trouble!

MC: Do you not trust me that much!

Gavin suppresses a laugh, and his expression returns to its usual calm.

Gavin: You’re thinking too much.

Gavin: But since you remember it, it will be left to be fulfilled in the future.

Gavin: Mm. From today onwards, you still owe me one condition.

- End -

The program is finally complete. From this program, the working relationship between us and STF has taken a step closer. This opportunity has not only heightened my company’s professionalism, but has also inspired future strategic layouts. We see great potential in working with STF in other areas, and hope to have the chance to develop an even deeper collaboration with them in future.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #fluffy goodness for the soul #featuring mc's crew and gavin's crew!

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flooffybits · 4 years

Text

Chase Me

Nightmares will only be nightmares so long as we know how to control it. Don’t be fooled by everything you see lest you wish to fall in the hands of deception.

Warning: horror themes, hallucinations, skulls

Back || Next

"You alright, Y/n? You look like you were dragged out of your apartment." Looking up from the table, you let out a sigh while rubbing your face and then shaking your head, causing Seungwan to give you a worried frown. "Yeah, just had a nightmare." You explain and the brunette frowns even more before she's placing your coffee in front of you and then a paper bag right next to it.

"I didn't order these." You tell her, but she's already smiling and then patting your arm. "I know. Hopefully it cheers you up though." She replies before heading back behind the counter to finish up another customer's order before you could even protest or insist on paying.

You were left staring at the Canadian in disbelief, smiling a bit as you shook your head and took the package, along with your drink.

The quick stop at the café did help lift up your mood. Seungwan's kind and friendly nature helped improve it, along with the thoughtful gift. But it wasn't exactly enough to rid you of the confusion you felt when you woke up.

The dream felt too real and the house that you ended up in looked much too familiar and nostalgic for your liking because you know that you've never been to a house that looked so grand yet almost completely empty and abandoned.

"Good morning!" Like every morning, you smile when you spot Minji waving at you with the same bright smile on her face, nose crinkling with her eyes sparkling.

You return the smile before she’s lightly smacking your shoulder. "That's for worrying me last night." She huffs and you pout while rubbing the area she had hit. "I said I was sorry and that I'm making it up to you! No need to hurt me." You complain childishly, making the latter sigh before she pinched your cheeks. "You haven't made up for it yet, so I can still be upset." She retorts playfully before finally releasing your cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tell me what you want and then I’ll get it for you.” You tell her and she hums thoughtfully before smiling at you. “What if I wanted you to visit my house?” Your brows shoot up at the suggestion before laughter bubbles from your lips. “I swear, if you just wanted me to hang out with you, you could have just said so. I would have come over if you asked me before.”

A blush blossoms across the woman’s cheeks and she gives you a small shove before shaking her head. “I didn’t say I wanted you to come over before. I just think it would be easier to clean up with an extra set of hands!” She exclaimed. And despite her embarrassment, the way you laughed so cheerfully had caused another smile to creep up her lips before she’s letting out a sigh.

“Oh, whatever, just be sure to text me this time.” She says while pushing you in the direction you usually take to work and you hum before waving at her, flashing her one more smile as you went. “I’ll see you later!”

And like usual, she watches as you slowly fade away from view before her smile eventually disappears and she walks back from the way she had come, various thoughts swimming in her head with regards to the previous night and the conversation she had with a certain friend.

“Y/n, you’re being called in the office.” Joohyun, another one of your colleagues, told you after a few hours into work. “Thanks, I’ll be right there!”

Kahei sent you a questioning look and you shrug your shoulders in reply, just as clueless as she was. “Did you do anything to be called?” The bright haired woman questions and you shake your head. “I don’t think so?” You try racking your brain for any possible reasons for your boss to be asking for your presence but find none.

“I guess I’m about to find out.” You mutter, adjusting your clothes and then dusting yourself off from any dirt and Kahei sends you an encouraging smile. “Maybe it’s a good thing why he’s calling.” She offers and you nod you chuckle before grinning back at her. “Thanks, Vivi.”

You smiled towards some of your co-workers and bowed respectfully to those who were in higher positions before you reached the elevator. Stepping inside, you pressed the button for the highest floor and waited until the doors closed, humming as you watched the numbers change with each passing floor.

“Go.”

Snapping your head to the right, you look to see your reflection before you feel your heart jump to your throat when you see a face that is clearly not your own. The person also had brown eyes, but was slightly taller, her hair was pretty shade of red.

However as you blinked and let your back collide with the wall behind you, you’re once again face to face with your own reflection, the same fear and disoriented expression as you had now.

The ding of the elevator causes you to flinch, but when you see the hall that led to your boss’ office, you quickly step out of the small space and watch as the doors close, waiting to see if your reflection would once again change.

But it doesn’t.

You’re more confused than ever as you finally turn around and head for your boss’ office, wiping the sweat that formed on your forehead. It’s probably the lack of sleep or the nightmare that’s making you see things.

While you don’t usually end up with such life-like dreams, that one time was enough to have you shaken up for this long.

Maybe even longer.

But you shake all thoughts of the nightmare and whatever hallucinations you’ve been seeing out of your mind as you knock on the door that separated you and the person who was currently paying you to even be in South Korea. You could question your sanity afterwards.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You ask as soon as you were let in and a man who appeared to be in his late thirties looks up at you with a broad grin stretched across his lips.

“Y/n! Yes, do come in.” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk while going through the files on his desk and then checking his laptop. “I received the reports you sent in… this morning?” He reads off and then smiles at you. “I’m honestly impressed. I haven’t seen a newly hired employee with this much dedication in a long while.” He states, the tone of his voice clearly delivering his amazement to your work. “These reports are due in three days, yet you managed to finish them ahead of time.”

You rub your head in embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. “It’s nothing, really. I was just hoping to get as much work over with.” You explain and he nods in understanding. “A nice mindset. Best to get things done so you can relax for the weekend.” He chuckles before putting your files back down.

“Your performance for the past few months has been quite remarkable.” He notes while lacing his fingers under his chin. “And since you’re one of our few foreign assets, I was hoping to assign you for this new project I’ve been planning out.” He explained and you felt your eyes widen in disbelief.

“I- that’s very flattering, sir. But don’t you think you should assign someone who has more experience? Kahei has been in the business longer than I have, or even Miyoung-ssi since she’s already a senior officer.” You reason but he shakes his head, the smile never faltering. “Miss Hwang is already dealing with our American branch so I don’t want to give her more responsibility than she can handle and while I do trust Miss Wong’s abilities, you show more promise and she’s one of the few employees who have recommended you for this position.”

You made a mental note to smack the girl’s arm later. No wonder she kept telling you that you would be promoted in no time.

“You don’t have to accept my offer right away since I’m still finalizing things with the board, but I would appreciate it if you would consider this opportunity.” He says with a hint of hope in his eyes, but you were definitely not ready to make a decision right off the bat.

With a shaky breath, you lean back before shaking your head. “I… might need to take a moment to think this over, sir.” But he waves his hand dissmisively while giving you an encouraging smile. “That’s alright. But I will be needing an answer after three weeks. Hopefully you’ve made your mind up by then.”

Soon after that, he lets you get back to work and you’re slightly dazed as you reach the elevator, blinking at the numbers as you momentarily forgot about the nightmare you had last night.

When you return to your desk, Kahei is already grinning at you and you promptly hit her arm. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re unbelievable!” You retort with a hint of a smile and Kahei giggles while rubbing the area you had hit her. “Hey, I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t mean it. You may be my friend, but you’re really good.” She assures you while lightly punching your arm that it can’t keep the smile from reaching your face.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the reports you were checking before you had to leave. “What did he tell you?” Your friend couldn’t help but ask and you hum in reply before explaining to her what your boss told you.

“And you said yes?” She asks eagerly, but you shake your head, causing her to gasp. But you cut her off before she can ask why. “He’s giving me time to think about it. I appreciate that you all have a lot of faith in me, but I have to think this through because I don’t want to end up disappointing everyone.”

Kahei smiles at your words before patting your shoulder. “Well, I guess, whatever decision you make, I’ll support it. Who knows? A lot can happen in three weeks.”

Later that night, as you enter the building of your apartment, you’re even more spooked than you would have liked. While you tried to think about the offer your boss had for you on the ride back, you made eye contact with one of the people who rode the bus with you.

There wasn’t anything too off about her, a simple beige coat that covered her clothes underneath and dark blue jeans matched with black boots. Her hair was short, yet it fit her appearance so well.

She didn’t look out of place at all.

But what printed her on your mind was when you had turned away for just a minute, she was no longer there nor anywhere in the bus when you looked around. The fact that you hadn’t even stopped at all scared you further and you were reminded of what you saw earlier in the elevator.

But this was a completely different person.

“Seven.”

You jump slightly, your heart nearly stopping by the voice that spoke up and you fail to realize that you weren’t the only person in the elevator. Because when you look next to you, you spot the same woman you had bumped into the previous night and your heart stutters before you quickly press the number seven like she had asked.

This time, she was in simpler clothing - a green sweater and denim shorts. Her hair was tied in a ponytail yet her features were just as sharp compared to when you first saw her. But what catches your attention is the tiny fur ball that was in her arms, staring at you with its tongue sticking out.

The pup looked like it familiarizing itself with you, head tilting to the side before it let out a tiny bark. But the owner gently patted its head and shushed it, prompting you to look away.

Though when you face the door, your eyes widen when you see three people inside the elevator, you, the woman with the dog, and the same woman you saw from the bus.

She was standing right behind the person next to you and you could see her lips moving as though she was speaking, and you could even hear her whispering, though too faint to make up any of the words she was saying. However, she seems to notice you watching her, the whispering stops and her eyes quickly turn to your questioning stare.

The sudden action makes you take a step back and you turn your head, spotting only the mysterious woman now staring at you instead. “You act like you see ghosts.” Was her only comment and your heart began beating furiously against your ribcage.

“You didn’t… y-you didn’t see that?” You stutter out, and her brows furrowed together before she was facing the door once again and waited for it to open before stepping out as the elevator stopped on her designated floor. “You’re the only one I see in there.”

As the door closed behind her, you felt a chill run down your spine at her words and you prayed that you could reach your floor faster because you didn't want to be stuck alone in the suffocating space you were currently in.

Luckily, you reach your floor without anything else popping in and out of your vision. You rush to your apartment and head inside, locking the door as you closed it and then head to the bathroom to wash your face.

Maybe you were just tired.

A nightmare could do that to you, right? You lacked sleep and with the adrenaline you got at work, it made sense. You just needed to sleep. And since it was the weekend, you didn’t have to worry about waking up early for work.

Exiting the bathroom, you failed to notice the pair of eyes that were just at the corner of the mirror, watching you as you did your best to get some sleep.

Sitting up, you’re greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling above you. Looking around, you realize that none of the items littered around were any of your things, signaling that you were, once again, not in your apartment.

In fact, the room gave you the same feeling as the living room you were in last night. And with that knowledge alone, you were already dreading what was in store for you in this room.

And you were right when you spotted a pocket watch being swung in front of you the moment you sat up. You reach out to touch it, but before your hand could even come in contact with the watch, it’s flung across the room, smacking against the wall and landing on the floor, the glass smashing to pieces.

You let out a sigh before slowly getting off the bed and walk over to retrieve the damaged watch. Gingerly picking it up, you carefully remove the shattered glass then turning the watch in your hands.

Upon checking the time, you blink when it shows the hands stuck at 2:33. That would explain why it was so dark outside.

Placing the watch in your pocket, you turn back to the room and look around, seeing all sorts of artifacts, much like the living room and you gulp when you see the skull of some sort of animal sitting on one of the tables, placed on top of a few books, right beside an old telephone.

With nothing else catching your eye, you head for the door to see just where you were, only to pause when you see the clock situated above it. Fishing for the pocket watch, you look to and from before shaking your head.

The clock read four o’clock.

That had to be right, right? The pocket watch was broken before you picked it up. But at the same time, it could have only been broken when it was smashed against the wall. So you didn’t think much of it as you opened the door and exited the room, only to groan when you’re quick to notice the flickering lights down the hallway.

“Give me a break.” You mutter under your breath before the door shut behind you. You spun around and tried to reopen it, only for it to be locked. So with no other option, you brace yourself as you walk to the only direction you were allowed to, down the flickering halls.

You did attempt to open the other doors, but none of them would budge, almost as though there was something blocking them. But you couldn’t stick around to figure out what it was or why. Your focus was finding the living room, if this really was the same house, and hope that the circle you were in last night would still be there, assuming that it was your only way back home since pinching yourself awake obviously didn’t work.

When you neared the area with the flickering lights, you could feel the temperature dropping again, your breath becoming visible as you exhaled. The sound of footsteps right after your own caused the hair at the back of your neck to rise, followed by the same whispers.

The woman from the bus.

Her hushed whispers was one of those that you could distinguish, along with the voice of the person who had spoken to you last night. But there were more, yet faint.

All of them came in the direction you were headed and you had to steel yourself as you walked down the halls, only for the light to finally give out, bursting and leaving you in complete darkness.

Pausing, you had to shut your eyes and collect yourself before finally looking down the hall to adjust to the darkness. The whispers don’t stop, and you use that as a guide to walk further, thankfully not bumping into any furniture or tripping on the carpet.

When you reach out, your hand comes in contact with something solid. Trying to get a proper feel of what it was, you realize that it leads somewhere lower. With a step forward, you find yourself at the stairs, faint light coming from downstairs and you let out a breath of relief as you carefully walk down, using the rails so as to keep yourself steady.

But halfway down, you hear the footsteps again, closer, as though they were just two steps behind you, but you don’t turn back especially when you feel a weight on your shoulders. Your entire body freezes at the feeling because it was as though someone was holding on to them before you feel yourself being urged forward.

“It’s okay.”

The voice is calming, and while it seemed like it came from whoever was pushing you to head downstairs, you found yourself proceeding, the hands leaving your shoulders as you went on, but the footsteps didn't disappear.

It was almost as though the person was watching over you, guiding you through the darkness. Because soon enough, you had already reached the bottom of the staircase and you could finally see a bit of the area thanks to the light that did come from the living room.

When you turn around to look at whoever had helped you, your frown reappears when you find yourself alone once again.

“You’ll find us soon enough. Don’t fret.” Another voice spoke, her voice soft and soothing. But the odd thing was where it came from.

In the wall opposite the living room stood a full body mirror. And while it was only for a fleeting moment, you caught sight of the same red hair from the office elevator before you were once again staring at yourself.

Taking that as a sign, you enter the living room once more and sigh in relief when you see the circle of candles in the same position they were in last time. Though upon closer inspection, two of them had been snuffed out, only flickering back to life when you were three feet away.

And that alone had assured you that you were okay as your eyes finally closed.

Groaning, you stretch your arms over your head while opening your eyes. The light from the window peeked through the curtains and you slowly sat up, feeling a bit better compared to yesterday though still a bit off.

Checking your phone, you see Minji’s text, asking if today was a good day for you to come over and you send her a reply that you would come over after lunch, much to the woman’s delight.

Smiling, you shake your head and swing your legs off the bed. You hear a thud quickly after, and thinking that you may have dropped your phone after placing it back beside your pillow, you lean down to grab it, only to pause when you see the broken pocket watch laying face down on the floor.

Carefully picking it up, you feel your heart drop when you see the time on it, matching the time on your phone when you went to check.

10:27.

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k-writer1998 · 3 years

Text

Who Said Love Was Easy? (12/12)

There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: two words short of 2.6k 😃

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been staying at Changbin’s for a week and a half now because we both knew that me alone wouldn’t be a functioning person at the moment. After initially talking to Jaehyung to let him know not to expect me in my apartment for the time being, I’ve tried to avoid him. Always scared that the next call or message would be my bright neighbor’s weakened voice telling me he lost the building… What I hated the most about my current state though was the fact that I’m still worried for Jeongin even after everything. If I told Changbin he would call me a fool but I couldn’t help it. He was a good kid aside from the fact that he is blinded by his… “love”… There was a small hope that he would change his mind as if salvation had found him and opened his eyes but there are no miracles. Why don’t I ever learn? Safe to say I didn’t go out much for the time being and maybe skipped a class… or three. Sadly Changbin coerced “encouraged” me to go at least to the pub so here I was back in my usual corner and watching everyone move about the pub. A reminder that life continued even if I wished it stopped. Seungmin was the one to take my order and once he brought it over he sat across from me.

“Hi?”

“I wanted to check in since you’ve been hiding.”

“You and everyone else. Get in line,” I quip playfully.

“Seeing as though I’m the most involved, I have rights,” he shot back.

“I see your point… I’m fine I guess, there’s nothing more I can do on my part after all.”

“I meant you personally, not the situation. I heard it got a little… complicated.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m already over that. Not like he’s the reason for the response in the first place, wait that doesn’t make- well you know what I mean.”

“Can’t really say it's good you’re better when you aren’t, no matter how hard you try to play it off, but I did want to say thank you.” Seungmin is perceptive as usual, maybe that’s where Jeongin learned it from.

“For being dumb and getting my feelings hurt? I think “sorry” is more appropriate, but what did I do to deserve such thanks?”

“You got the clock turning again, I see things getting better soon.”

It was nice to talk to Seungmin because he never tried to avoid talking about Jeongin like everyone else but I hated myself for that feeling. I said I couldn’t watch him do it yet I’m grasping at any thread of news about him. Please you idiotic heart, when will it be enough before you stop chasing after this guy who doesn’t want us? Swallow down that surge of hope, experience has shown it’s nothing but bad news.

“I’m too sober for cryptic messages and empty promises, Seungmin.”

“I’m serious. You know better than anyone that the people involved tend not to see what’s going on right in front of them. He kept a lot of it to himself but he is working for a change.”

“Good for him.”

I couldn’t help the edge in my voice. It’s frustrating to know that it took me blowing up and leaving for him to finally get his act together. It almost feels like I was a stepping stone and I’ve served my purpose… will there be no way back to him? No y/n, not again. Don’t get sad when you’re the one who burned that bridge. I’m pretty sure Seungmin saw the change in my mindset because the conversation slowly changed directions. When I got back to Changbin’s I flopped down on the couch, tired out from trying to appease Jaehyung and his whining to visit him more often. Just as I was wondering where Changbin was he came storming in, fuming.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I stopped him from going to his room. “What’s up? You seem actually angry and not like… slightly annoyed kind of angry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know you’ll lose out in a game of persistence, just save yourself the trouble.”

“It’s just work stuff, you don’t want to hear it.”

Ah. He specifically doesn’t want to tell me. Of course that means he probably had some type of interaction with Jeongin. It was inevitable with a new project coming through with him at the head of it… it’s gonna need to be advertised. I roll my eyes and turn him to face me before crossing my arms.

“You know that “all-knowing” thing in best friendship is a two-way road right? What did Jeongin do? I can’t avoid the topic forever and it’s not like he can say anything else that could hurt me.”

“I hate you… Okay don’t get mad...”

“I-” I stop myself to mentally prepare not to get mad. “Talk.”

“I told him to stay out of your life.”

“Did he say something to you to prompt this?”

“No?”

“Seo Changbin you’re lucky best friend privileges are keeping you alive right now. Why would you say that when it’s been pretty clear that that’s how things were going already?”

“I wanted to make sure that everyone was on the same page.”

“I both love and hate your overprotective ass,” I sigh. “But anyways, that doesn’t explain why you’re so peeved.”

“Well… He said it was your choice where your friendship went and I had no say.”

“I mean… he has a point.”

“Are you really gonna forgive him after everything?! Not even gonna consider your best friend’s warnings?”

“Of course I will but you have a one-strike-you’re-out rule while I have a three-strike-”

“He’s gone past three strikes if you ask me,” he grumbled.

“AND I consider the positives that counteract the strikes,” I continued with a roll of my eyes.

“But he sent you into pattern four and you’ve only ever done that like once.”

“There were other things and you know that, although yes it was all based on his actions but-”

“You’re too nice for your own good, if he comes back you're willing to forgive him aren’t you?”

“I mean if there were changes made before then yeah… forgiveness doesn’t mean everything is swept under the rug though.”

“Fine, fine. You won’t listen to me anyways. Just don’t let yourself get hurt again because if there is a next time I won’t hold back even if you beg.”

I jokingly pulled him down for a hug as he whined and complained. After a bit I let him go do what he needed as I retired back to the guest room. Jeongin is doing… something… From what Changbin says it seems that he wants to apologize and Seungmin was hinting that there was a positive change. Now, whether that positive change is a good thing for me or not is the question. Aside from hearing things from all these outside sources, the man himself has yet to speak to me so is it all a bluff? Then there is the thing with the pub and all that business stuff… was he able to put a stop to it? He did combat me on that though saying there was nothing he could do so maybe not? Things are too vague, I won’t be able to come to any conclusions. Can I handle seeing him? A week’s definitely not enough time but I do miss him. With a groan I ruffle my hair in frustration. Make up your mind y/n! Or better yet let’s sleep and think about it another time, my brain chimed in as I buried my face in my pillow and that I did.

Days ticked away as I was still stuck on all of this. Everything has been quiet and I couldn’t help the sliver of hope that flickered to existence. I didn’t let it grow any bigger though. Just because he saved the pub doesn’t mean everything between us, whatever mess we’ve made of it, is fixed. After a few days Changbin, fed up with me lost in thought constantly, advised me to go outside… meaning he literally took me out then abandoned me. His response, after a long chain of “choice” messages I sent, was I needed fresh air and sunlight like some plant. At least Changbin dropped me in a semi-familiar area so once I spotted a familiar café name I bought myself a pastry and a coffee and sat by the window. My mind started to drift off as I started people watching. Might as well try to enjoy the outside. There was the pair of high schoolers giggling amongst themselves and running off to the arcade across the street. Then there was the tired office worker who entered the café, probably sent to pick up coffee for the team because- wait. Why does that worker look familiar? As I racked my brain, I hadn’t realized I was staring at him until we made eye contact and he waved at me. The drunk night.

“Hey Jeongin’s friend. It’s been a while, are you here to surprise him?”

“Haha no, I was just in the area,” I forced a smile.

Why didn’t I notice why I knew this area? Of all places, why did Changbin leave me here?! His stupid ass probably didn’t realize… ugh. And of all things why did this man approach me?! I mean my bad for staring but you could've just ended with the wave.

“Well if you’re free you should check in on him, he’s been working so hard lately. You kids need to learn how to take a break every now and then.”

“I just might,” I responded cheerily.

After that his order was called and we said our goodbyes. My body slumps back into my chair as a sigh passes through my lips. Whatever, I don’t care if this is near Jeongin’s work, I’m not leaving. It’s not like I did anything wrong so why do I have to hide? Plus if that manager already grabbed coffee it's not like he would show up… Stop. We are here for coffee, don’t play those stupid “what if” scenarios right now. So what if he shows up? He doesn’t own this place so I can be here if I want, why do I have to worry? With the renewed confidence I sipped my drink and finished off my pastry as I continued my game of people watching. It was back to having a good time until I saw a tuft of hair weaving around the crowd. Hmm, who's chasing that person? The moment the person broke through the crowd I instinctively turned away as they hunched over to catch their breath. How in the- why is he- I quickly moved, hoping he didn’t catch me at the window. God, I tried so hard to hype myself up but here I am still running. Moving close to the door, the moment his figure entered and started looking around I took the opportunity to slip out. As my feet took me further from where he was, the tension slowly seeped out of my shoulder as well. That is until I heard it and although everything in me screamed to keep moving my heart had control of my feet which froze in place.

“Y/n wait!”

Against better judgement I turned to his disheveled figure approaching me although he stopped a few steps away. His hair was a tousled mess and his chest huffed for the oxygen all that running had deprived it of. Unsure of what all this was for, I opted to keep quiet and let him settle a bit so he could make the first move.

“Uhm… hi…”

“What are you doing Jeongin?”

“I don’t know… sunbae said he saw you at the coffee shop and I felt like if I didn’t try to see you now, I don’t know if I would ever see you again.”

“And do you think that’s because of me or your own cowardice?” I didn’t want to be so icy but all my energy was going towards protecting my heart so none was spared to protect his feelings.

“Probably my own cowardice. Things were left in a bad state so I didn’t think I had a right.”

“If you know then why are you here?”

“I may not have the right but I don’t want to lose you-”

“Don’t. Stop making it sound like there’s something when there isn’t.”

“Sorry… but those are my honest feelings, you are important to me y/n.”

“But what’s changed other than your mindset? Sadly there were a lot of other pressing matters that caused such an… explosive dispute.”

“I know, believe me. To ease what I’m sure you’re most worried about, I was able to convince my dad of a better location to open his franchise so the pub is safe.”

Relief immediately washed over me but I steeled my expression to hide it. Be strong y/n at least try to keep your word to Changbin and not forgive him so quickly, there are still things that hurt you personally that haven’t been addressed.

“I’ve also had a proper talk with Gahyeon, which included properly confessing and getting rejected although it didn’t hurt all that much cause you were right… I was clinging to something that wasn’t there anymore.”

“Well that’s all good for you and everyone at the pub… If that’s it I’ll just-”

“Wait! You haven’t heard the most important one yet!”

He took a deep breath before looking me dead on and there was that gaze again as if he could see me and not just see “me”. Although he’s rambling he is trying, I’ll give him that. Giving him an apprehensive look over, he took that as an okay and continued.

“I’m sorry… for a lot of things.”

“What? Did Seungmin tell you about what I said the other day?” I responded flatly.

“Wha- no! I’ve felt sorry since the argument. I didn’t mean to let things escalate to that level.”

“If you’re referring to my reaction I’m already over it. You weren't the one who created that response so no need to blame yourself for it.”

“It shouldn’t be like that though y/n! That shouldn’t have to be your normal but I should have known better, as you said, especially after seeing how you act around your family. But more than that I never stopped to really consider your feelings in all of this and acted so selfishly.”

“Well thanks for the apology then. I’ve already served my purpose though, right? You’ve started to move forward so I can just-”

“Y/n why are you doing that? I mean… I can’t ask you to forgive everything and go back to how things were but you aren’t even-”

“Jeongin. I have to be distant. The more you’re around me the more I see what I can’t have and I can’t put my heart through that anymore, I just like you far too much to stay friends…”

My feelings spilled out before my mind could process them but it was honest. This feeling for Jeongin is so intense it sent me into a pattern I only fell into once before because of my brother. It's selfish but there is no going back to friends right now with my feelings as they are… not unless through some miracle that throughout all his changing, his feelings for me changed as well.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz #skz imagines #skz au #yang jeongin #jeongin imagines #jeongin au #server! jeongin x regular! y/n #my writing #wslwe?

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gretchensinister · 3 years

Note

I too am curious about 3, combined with 5? also 15 and this might be a nightmare question but, 22 for DoL

3: Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

Okay so. The WIPs. 1. The farthest along is the college students in a cabin being killed by a monster story, which I wrote for a Pitch Black Halloween event a couple years ago and now I am editing to publish as its own novel. I’m actually at the last scene! Unfortunately I also need to rewrite the last scene because the current last scene basically introduces two new characters and I think that damages the effect I’m going for with the story overall. It’s a story with a small cast and very few extras and closing on strangers adds distance between reader and story which I don’t want.

2. Then there’s my Phantom of the Opera fic, which yes it has been maybe a year since I worked on it, but I really want to finish it and put it into the world. I just thought it would be shorter, since I repeatedly said to @marypsue, “I’m not going to rewrite the Phantom of the Opera”…cut to card saying “Gretchen rewrites the Phantom of the Opera.”

3. There’s the fic I was working on for Dead Dove Day. I wanted to write some smut with a completely blank slate being introduced to sex by someone with tons of experience (which apparently now gets a frowny face put in one’s file) and also every character has dual genitalia (I’m still waiting for the paperwork to come back about whether I’m allowed to fantasize about that or not, and then of course there’s all the other forms to determine if I’m allowed to encourage other people to also fantasize about this). The smut is done unless I add another scene at the end but it developed a plot so I’m trying to resolve that.

4. There’s some simple! classic! blacksand! that won’t resolve for some reason and makes me feel like I lost the ability to write. I know this isn’t true but it’s like…I need to be writing this in class or something. I need to be getting away with it.

5. Last, there’s blackgeneral which I have put in a human AU and made even worse! But if you’ve never written something where you wonder at least a little bit if it would fail the Miller Test, have you even lived?

Now for some samples, in the order in which they were mentioned (lmao this got long):

1. “Did you see that, did you see that?”

“What was that?”

“Yeah, I saw it but—”

“It was tall, it was tall, it was a bear!”

“No, it was skinny! It couldn’t have been a bear!”

“And anyway, it was fucking gray!”

“Okay, okay,” Gabe said when things had quieted down a little. “Everything looks kind of gray in this light.”

“I’m not really concerned with its color!” Sugar said.

Kelly had stood up in all the commotion and now moved behind Gabe, resting her hands on his shoulders. She hadn’t liked the look of that thing in the woods, but now Gabe was pointing his flashlight down into the lake, and that was actually worse for her.

“Shine your light at it again,” Sandy said. “We’ll either frighten it away or get a better idea of what it is.”

They waited tensely as Gabe swept the trail again, revealing nothing.

“I don’t know if anyone else is thinking this,” Minnu said, “but I thought…I thought it kind of looked like a guy.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, after a moment. “Yeah, it kind of did.”

“That kind of seems worse,” Sugar said.

“True,” Sandy said. “So, what should we do? I vote for going back to the cabin.”

“And I think we should go without our phone lights or flashlights,” said Sugar. “If that was a guy, he could have a gun.”

“The person that was found dead wasn’t killed by any gun,” Kelly said after a short pause.

“Well, this could be someone entirely different,” Sugar said. “It’s not like there’s a rule, only one thing that can kill you in the forest at a time. In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite of that.”

“Guys, guys,” Sandy said. “I know this isn’t the most normal thing to say, but…are we really sure that that thing looked like a…well, a human guy?”

2. She screams. She screams her sorrow and her rage, and her rage is at the way of the world but also at herself; why had she been a coward? All she had done was seen, and she had still frozen in fear? All she had were her hands, but should she not have used them? She should have flown forward and strangled the man! But she had only frozen, frozen and silently watched, as if she was nothing more than the ornament she was supposed to be.

“You will hurt yourself, screaming like that,” a voice says, then.

No one else is in the chapel with her. She checked many times in succession before closing the door. The voice is that of no one. A ghost.

But the abruptness reminds her of Mme. Giry as she instructs the corps de ballet on form. You will hurt yourself, bending like that.

But since no one is here, she responds as if she is alone. “No one ever taught me how to properly scream.” As she says this, she can feel the rawness of her throat. It hardly matters, she has no solos approaching, and probably never will.

“Do you want to learn?” the voice asks. “I could teach you.”

“What would be the point? No one wants me to scream.”

“No one wants me to do anything,” the voice says. “But I know how to do many things.”

The shape of her mouth flickers towards a smile. The concept is oddly enticing: to build a skill that no one wants. And this voice, that is oddly enticing, too. It reminds her of the heavy velvet that she’d noticed in the costume shop one day, brushed to a shimmering dark red like a fire behind smoked glass. The soft weight of it had been a glory in her hands that sent a strange shiver all down her spine.

And just as she knows that velvet doesn’t grow on trees, she knows that this wonderful voice didn’t come naturally, either. A lot of work went into its creation, and right now, she is the only one being given that beauty. That’s enticing, too.

It seems she’s taken too long to respond, for the voice speaks again. “I could teach you how to sing as well as scream. I’ve heard you sing on your own before, away from the chorus. You could be the greatest soprano the opera has ever heard.”

“Singing is something they want,” she says. “And you say…the greatest. Do you think I could be sublime, as a soprano?”

“Sublime,” the voice muses, and the slow word makes her shiver again. “I have met few who truly desire to be sublime.”

“I do.”

This time it is the voice that takes a long time to respond. “I believe you,” it finally says, sounding curious, and a little sad. “Yet I do not fully understand you. Perhaps I will if I teach you. And I can. I have far more experience with sublimity than with beauty.”

“Your voice is beautiful,” she says tentatively, “at least it is as you speak to me. But I hear in it something that tells me you can easily transcend with it to the sublime. I only wish to say, from hearing you, I would guess you had experience with both.”

“You do not know what you say,” the voice replies, with control so careful she cannot be sure what it conceals, “but that is all very well. You will have a voice with sublimity waiting behind its beauty, this I swear. Sublimity will be yours to hold to heel or to unleash, and when you do—”

“Yes,” she interrupts. “What then?”

She can hear a smile in the voice now, at her eagerness. “At the very least,” the voice says, “you’ll be able to shatter glass.”

She smiles too, imagining. “Every globe in the chandelier, from the stage.” It is a reckless wish, and a thoughtless one—she does not really want to rain glass down upon the audience, or if they were not there, to make the cleaning-women sweep up thousands of razor-sharp shards. But if she could, oh, it’s an uncanny thing to do. Not a pretty thing.

“If you have the will, I will show you the way,” says the voice. “If you agree, will you tell me your name?”

“Yes, and yes,” she says. “And my name is Christine Daae. But what is yours?”

“I am the ghost,” he says.

3. The Pitch held Sandy close with one arm while their other hand flowed down Sandy’s body, slow and sweet like honey. They bent to kiss Sandy’s mouth as they fondled their full breasts. And it wasn’t—it wasn’t as if the Pitch spent a long time at the stiff points of Sandy’s nipples. They were too sensitive for that right now, the line between pleasure and pain too thin. But they did touch, and the touch of their inhumanly long fingers felt somehow both reverent and barely restrained. Sandy knew this could only be their projection onto such a new Pitch, but knowing didn’t make the feeling go away. It didn’t stop them from going half-mad with it, their cunt getting wetter and their cock getting harder, barely a breath away from begging the Pitch to pinch them, hard, to fall over the line of pain to see if there was pleasure on the other side.

But that was part of a different lesson, and not something every owner wanted their Pitch to learn. Sandy wasn’t quite sure it was what they wanted, either, except that it would be more sensation and more was what they wanted from the Pitch.

But of course the Pitch could give more, and of course they would give more. That was what they were for.

The Pitch caressed their belly luxuriantly, their speeding breath and some soft sounds muffled by their mouth on Sandy’s proclaiming their absolute delight in every curve of Sandy’s very ordinary body. And again it felt like real desire, as if the Pitch had forgotten that the point of their actions was to arouse Sandy. As if it was assured, as if there was a long understanding of mutuality between them, as if indulging themselves with Sandy was something they knew Sandy would enjoy.

As for the last, with Sandy, they were right. Every greedy touch of the Pitch’s hands was a gift, a drug.

A drug that opened the mind to some dangerous ideas. Pitches are made for pleasure. If I could choose a pleasure construct I’d choose a Pitch. I’d choose this Pitch. Precocious Pitch and I wonder, I wonder if in a different world where Pitches are what the born look like, if this Pitch would commission a Sandy if they could. It should have been unthinkable. But pleasure constructs were also made to make the unthinkable possible.

So obedient, and they come with their own built-in taboos for you to think about breaking!

4. Conversation is all right, Sandy said. If you can find someone to do it with. But there are things I like better. He looked up at Pitch. Things I think you might like better, too.

“Is that so? You know something good enough to make me be good?”

Sandy grinned, now, and Pitch—Pitch absolutely felt his heart beat faster, though it was getting harder now to say that this was out of panic or even simple fear.

I don’t know if it’s that powerful, but I’d be happy to give it a try, Sandy said. What do you think?

What did Pitch think? He felt like somehow he’d been herded through a great number of corridors in his mind and now he had reached a dead end. Or—not exactly a dead end. It was just that all the doors around him were ones he had locked tightly, and he had tried to forget that he still had the keys. It was the Sandy wing of his mind, and now the real Sandy was blocking him from leaving the corridor the way he came, and spinning a key ring around his little golden finger. If Sandy unlocked any of those doors, then he’d see…he’d see…

Maybe…Sandy would see something he…liked?

“Try me,” Pitch said, giving the words an unsuitable earnestness.

5. Porcelain skin and blue-black hair from their mother. Sharp angular faces, proud aquiline noses, and bones that promised height from their father. And yet their mother’s influence performed alchemy on these traits, somehow making them gracile, proving that on those infinitesimal spiral staircases of fate, she would always have the higher ground. Their lips might be thinner than hers, but they were still perfectly formed to bring to mind sensuality, even from this young age. They might be forbidden cosmetics, but the lashes she gave them were long and thick enough that no one who saw them would be able to stop themselves from wondering. And their eyes, of course, were hers, that exquisitely rare and exotic topaz had completely overshadowed their father’s pure northern blue. There was just enough of their father in their looks that they could be no one else’s sons, but the rest of their looks whispered this open secret: Though he was powerful enough to wed and bring to childbed the most beautiful woman within a thousand miles, claiming such beauty meant that he would never have a son quite in his image. That single, perfect, impregnable vessel of immortality for himself was nothing but a ghost. What he had, after having everything else, was this uncanny pair. Warped reflections of their mother, warped reflections of their father.

And perfect reflections of each other.

15: Which fic that you’ve written relates to you and your personal life the most?

A Draught of Light. I was working through a lot of stuff in that fic and while writing it, I’m not done working out everything I was working out in that fic, and bizarrely it seems to continue to become more relatable to me as years pass, even through situations I could not have possibly have foreseen. But also Speak Oil Into My Ear is very near and dear to me because of how much of Austin, TX I put into it, and that’s where I was living when I wrote it.

22: Have you used any symbolism in A Draught of Light? What does it represent?

You mentioned this might be a nightmare question and I guess it kind of is, because DoL is like…not subtle in any way. That’s just how it is. Any symbolism is baked into the magic system because it’s how magic works—if a light adept can figure out how to understand what they’re doing as related to illuminating/revealing/opening etc., then they can do it with light. If a shadow adept can understand a working as related to concealing/vanishing/hiding etc., then they can do it with shadow. Fire is change, water is healing/restoration. The ending doesn’t go full allegory but like. For those who are familiar it’s very obvious why I would think of this story more around Easter than around the autumn equinox, when it’s actually set.

But! Story time! When this story started, it was partially due to three factors: a kinkmeme prompt that I wasn’t sure if my idea actually addressed, a round pool at the apartment complex I lived in at the time, and a dream I had where I was standing in this underground circular stone chamber, and I clapped my hands and water began flowing from them, and (here’s the symbolism) in the dream I knew that the water represented forgiveness. (Though that’s not really what it means in DoL.

#tejoxys

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bangtanblurbs · 4 years

Text

intro: never mind

song: Intro: Never Mind

first experience: i remember when the Never Mind comeback trailer dropped - i was sitting in my dorm and it was absurdly late at night. i was preparing to go back home for the thanksgiving holiday and closing out what my university affectionately called “hell week” - a week in which nearly every class you’re taking schedules their final midterm exams and projects due in preparation to give you two weeks to study for finals. i was feeling really defeated. i’d decided to take on a really hard load of upper level economics courses that semester. i didn’t really care about school at this point. my grades were good, sure, but my motivation was completely shot. hearing yoongi’s voice, the emotion in it, it became almost like a mantra to me at that time. encouraging me to keep going. to make it through. day. by. day. i listened to the song on repeat so much as i pulled all-nighters in the library. it was my lifeline.

feelings/personal connection: as alluded to, this song for me - it’s pure pain, struggle, and perseverance. it’s full of spite, but not the kind that brings you down -- the kind that pushes you forward. for me, this song is the core of bangtan’s experience. they had to push through so much bullshit to get where they are. listening to never mind always has layered meaning for me. of course there’s the meanings associated with the struggles bangtan overcame, their dedication, yoongi’s story specifically too... turning on never mind and listening even without understanding the lyrics, you can hear that this is bangtan’s “we’re going to make it, we’re going to hold our head’s high and keep going. we are following our dreams, and with our conviction - nothing else matters” song. having been with bangtan for so long - seeing them fight like hell... this song is everything. known that they knew their worth even in 2015 when they weren’t getting the recognition they deserved and were being treated like absolute shit left and right.

outside of the meaning for bangtan, this song strikes a core with me. growing up in a rural less than stellar suburb of west atlanta there weren’t many expectations for me - a young girl, pretty mediocre at everything she did. but i wanted a lot. i felt like an outcast in my community... i’m not sure how or why but everything i loved and fascinated was something my culture and community deemed strange. girls where i’m from, they get married before they’re 20, have kids before they’re 25... it’s all very linear. i wanted adventure, i wanted to think, stand on my own two feet. i wanted a lot for myself, things that nobody in my family wanted or understood. things that sometimes, they didn’t support. listening to never mind transported me back. i saw my teenage self struggling through my IB degree - fighting like hell to get into a good university - fighting like hell not to let that university swallow me up with temptations and malice. at the time of finding never mind i was in my third year of university. i felt like i was going to make it, but then what? never mind was my mantra - don’t give a shit, or a fuck, about those people at home. don’t care about the people at university who were rich, privileged beyond belief, and considered me stupid trash. i kept my head down and i ran. raising hell when i had to, fighting for myself.

even now, i’m an outsider in life. i’m pursing a phd - i’m living in a new city (washington DC)... i don’t belong here. i’m not the traditional type to walk this path. i come from a very modest background, my family never left the country, my parents never expected anything for my future. but i won’t mind them. things are hard, people question me, my mind, my thoughts, my identity, my legitimacy. and when it’s tough - i put on never mind and i shout with yoongi. nobody is holding me back anymore. i can see the light at the end of my journey, i will get there, and those that doubted me for any moment - never mind them.

song breakdown

musically: there’s so much here. there. is. so. much. here. from the very start of the song with the crowd cheering - this brings about the notion that yes - BTS has made it *yoongi* has made it. they have fans, they perform in front of crowds, they’ve achieved something that those who didn’t support them thought they never would. the mic tapping, the screech, the coughing -- lets us know we’re about to get a story, something heartfelt. he’s nervous to share it. gathering confidence. (truly i feel like never mind is one of the first bangtan songs that speaks to the group’s PERSONAL experiences coming up in the industry) - it’s something new, something that they’re nervous to share, different from love songs and more traditional narratives that they typically share with us. the piano backs yoongi in the beginning, drums and a beat come in as the lyrics pick up - it’s understated, it lets you really focus in on the emotions in his voice. something about it is truly haunting. the beat picks up during the bridge and levels out to a nice calming tone as namjoon and hoseok come into bring in the chorus - the MANTRA - of the song “NEVER MIND, NEVER MIND”

vocally: it’s all rapline here. and it’s all emotion. from yoongi’s first breath, you know you’re going to be sent somewhere. he’s going to tell you a story. a deeply personal one. you can hear his change tones, he giggles at points where he needs to emphasize the fact that those who counted him out are finally proven wrong, they’re finally eating their words as he rises and meets his success. he speeds up the rap as the song goes on - it’s like running - the start is slow, labored, but over time it builds to a fantastic speed and bottoms out with even chanting. this is the story. these 7, yoongi among them, they started out slow, but damn they’re running by the time HYYH pt. 2 drops. they are running like hell - and they’re going to make it. the fact that hoseok and namjoon join in on the chorus is also telling -- perhaps yoongi added them on the track because without the three of them, they wouldn’t be living this journey, maybe he’d still be stuck at the pace he was running before. now they’re united - they can join together and fight those that held them back. hoseok brings his upbeat tone - namjoon brings his soul, and rapline completes the song together with yoongi uttering the final bars in a soft soothing voice - almost like he’s telling us, don’t mind those that hold you back either, we are here, you can do whatever it is you want as well.

lyrically: i could give a three hour lecture about these lyrics. as we all know, never mind was written by yoongi. the song starts out offering us some insight into how yoongi continues on despite all the shit he deals with - “i only look forward and run” it’s almost like he’s offering us this advice as well, just focus on what’s in front of you and keep going. he talks first about his success, he’s finally “become the pride” of his family. but then he dives into the pains he’s overcome - acknowledging the common thought that “teenage years mess you up” (something with which we can likely all relate to - somehow those teenage years are when you’re the most insecure, and also the years when you usually take the most heat when it comes to deciding who you are and where you want to go with your life). yoongi remarks that the only thing that’s changed about himself is his height - i wonder if he feels the same now - and he speaks to the fact that his youth is something that he carries with himself into the present. it motivates him. it’s made him, him. yoongi had to overcome a lot of hardships, people telling him he would be the very demise of his family as he fought for his dream a music career. but he kept going - he says “i only lived how i wanted, guided by my own beliefs” and he taunts the listener who may have doubted his ability to make it “how do you think i’m doing now?” and states he wants “to ask the several people who prayed for me to screw up - does it seem like my home is going broke, you bastards?” this is the spite that yoongi carries. the pain. despite looking only forward and not being concerned with the haters - he acknowledges that he was outcasted because of it, he wants them to see that they were wrong, that they messed up in their evaluation of him.

yoongi’s words move into the bridge - they continue their powerful message. he acknowledges that he’s failed, but because of his youth that he continues to carry he can pick himself up on it. “if you can’t return, go straight through your mistakes and forget them all. never mind.” he encourages us to do as he did, if you mess up - why carry it forward? just keep running forward never look back.

yet yoongi maintains his humility through all of this. he acknowledges, letting the hate and doubt roll off of you, it isn’t easy -- “it’s not easy but engrave it onto your chest” (which jimin quite literally did - NEVERMIND - a reminder that he needs to hold his head high and keep going). yoongi continues to offer encouragement “if you feel you’re going to crash - then accelerate more, you idiot.” when you’re at your lowest - that’s when you really need to forget what the others said, go so fast and so hard you have no time to consider them and their ignorance. that is comfort. this song is nothing but pure comfort.

the chorus brings in the thoughts that yeah, there’s a lot you can’t change - there’s thorns along the journey of life - but you have to keep going. especially when you carry your youth, your immaturity, don’t give up. just keep going. yoongi repeats several times “if you feel like you’re going to crash - then accelerate more, you idiot.” using the same insults and pain that they threw against him in likely a layered sense. first telling himself, he’s an idiot for ever moving closer to crashing, but also laughing and calling himself an idiot in the way those who doubted him did - he was an idiot for chasing a dream, but damn he’s overcome and he’s made it.

performance: to be quite honest, it’s hard to find performance videos of never mind. i was lucky enough to see it live when i went to HYYH in macau - but i don’t have any footage of it. typically though it starts with the entire venue dark. a single light will come upon yoongi as he begins rapping in his hooded coat. either way - the performance starts with yoongi alone, much how the story in the lyrics starts. it’s haunting to see him - typically facing the back of the stage - rapping his heart out. it’s like he has to build up his confidence before turning around to bear himself and his emotions to crowd. as the bridge hits - the hood comes off. the confidence is there, hoseok and namjoon join on stage. the mood is generally one of encouragement.

as for the comeback video - it’s remarkably profound for an animated video. the video starts with the butterfly, often symbolic of rebirth. resilience. then we get the animation of a boy, playing basketball, alone, feeling hopeless. lost in what seems to be a visual maze - reaching for the butterfly. an a microphone in chains. the boy begins to run during the bridge - just running along. the butterflies surround him. it’s like he’s chasing a moment for redemption and rebirth. running towards that moment that the catterpillar transforms into what it’s meant to me. just as yoongi tells us - run, run like hell towards who you’re meant to be. don’t look back.

tl;dr: never mind is a masterpiece. it’s raw emotion. it’s one of the first songs where we really get a bangtan member spilling *their* life story, their struggles, with us in a song. it’s highly relatable - and while it’s yoongi’s story - it also feels like a letter of encouragement to all of those listening. turn away from those that doubt you and run like hell.

#BTS #bangtan #nevermind #lyrics #hyyh pt.2

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 5 years

Text

Return to Me - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Let Them Try

A/N: Thank you all for the love from chapter one! I’m so glad you’re all liking it. Here’s chapter two! The mission that Leia sent Poe on at the end of the last chapter is the one she sent him on in the Poe Dameron comic (which, god, you should all read) to find Lor San Tekka. Now we’re at the start of The Force Awakens. If you have any questions, let me know! Also, if you want to be tagged, or I missed you somehow, let me know!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 4,784 Synopsis: After securing the map to Luke Skywalker from Lor San Tekka, Poe is captured by the First Order and tortured for what he knows. Meanwhile, the reader tries to find her place between the Resistance and the world of politics as she returns home to ask for aid to the Resistance.

Tag List: @xeniarocks, @too-many-baes, @araceli91103, @holybatflapexpert, @themihala, @idocarealot, @treblebeth, @treestarrrrrrrr, @thescarletknight2014, @charlottie2998, @ibikus, @mellow-f1, @mrsdaamneron, @trustme3-13 (Some links didn’t work, if this is you, make sure that your settings allow for you to be tagged by people who don’t follow you, so you can still get the tag.)

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board,” Kylo Ren said, stepping into the torture chamber Poe was now being held in.

“It has been a few years, but I haven’t aged that horribly,” Poe said, tasting blood from his pooling lip. Ren paced behind him, standing where Poe couldn’t see. “Have you had some work done? It’s alright, you never were that good looking, so a few plastic corrections—" Poe groaned as his metal restraints tightened.

“Comfortable?”

“Not really.”

“I’m impressed with you, Commander. No one has been able to get out of you what you have done with the map.”

“Might want to rethink your technique.” Ren appeared in front of him again, his facial expressions still impossible to read behind the mask, but Poe could sense his anger. He silently raised his hand in front of Poe’s face, and before Poe knew what was happening, Ren began to open his mind. Poe started to struggle, his head smacking into the back of the hard metal chair he was confined to. He was looking for the memory of what he did to the map, but somewhere in his subconscious, Ren took a turn into more personal matters.

Flashes of you began to appear. Sitting together under a tree a few hundred yards from the old base. Climbing up to his X-Wing to give him a kiss. Swimming in the lakes surrounding Naboo. Laying together in bed.

Poe jerked out of his control, breathing heavy. He looked up weakly at Ren. What must have been a laugh registered from his mask, making Poe feel sicker.

“What nice memories.”

“You’re a pathetic waste of life,” Poe spat, lifting his head up to face Kylo Ren just as he Force pushed Poe’s head back against the metal headrest.

“How do you think Y/N would feel knowing that you are giving away all of the deepest, most intimate details of your relationship?”

“I don’t know.” Poe strained as Ren started invading his mind again. “But I bet she still likes me better than you.”

“When I’m done, you won’t have reason to laugh anymore,” he said, opening Poe’s mind again.

“Where is the map?” he asked as Poe’s face began to redden, the pressure of trying to fight him off becoming too much.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.”

Ren put his full effort into his trick, extracting a scream from the pilot as he searched for his needed information.

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After your trip to the Resistance base, returning home felt like returning to a prison cell. You had only been gone for little more than a day, but short lived freedom was still freedom. You arrived back to Naboo early in the day, and all you wanted to do was crawl in bed, but, as always, you had a full schedule.

“Y/N, please keep your head up,” Loré pleaded for the fourth time.

“Sorry,” you said, straightening yourself in your seat, “I’m just tired.”

“Do you want another cup of tea?” Sondé asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You looked into the mirror as Loré tied your hair up in an intricate ponytail and fought off the emotions that were threatening to destroy everything you had built up the last two years. The more time you spent away from the Resistance, the further you felt from who you were back then, and you were starting to wonder if you could ever truly get her back.

“Nové, you’re going down to the military base with Zaisa today, right?” you asked.

“Yes, my lady,” she said, glancing at you with worried eyes, sensing your stress.

“And you’re going to make sure—"

“I know my mission,” she said, nodding. Nové was going down to Naboo’s military base with Captain Zaisa in order to scope out any new recruits who would be a good fit for the Resistance. Nové’s commlink buzzed, and she sighed with a frustrated smile. “The Council is ready.”

“Okay,” you said, looking back at her for an understanding to her frustration.

“Along with Count Lin Ral who just got in from Serenno,” she said. You looked back into the mirror and steeled your demeanor.

“I’ll be right along. Loré, will you go announce my presence? I just need to put my earrings on, and I’ll be right down.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Everyone exited, with Nové bringing up the tail. She gave you a parting look, one last look of encouragement. You clipped on the gigantic earrings to compliment your dress and readied yourself for your council meeting. Although you had already transferred personal credits over to the Resistance, there was still a lot more you wanted to do, which could only be made possible with funds and supplies granted by Naboo’s council. Given that the Resistance wasn’t technically in existence, though, this was going to be a difficult task.

As you stepped into the Grand Council Room, everyone stood. The Royal Advisory Council consisted of five people: headed by Lord Sarsa Broden, with members, Lala Jrul, Rickan Gilkpasc, Sarin Sutaton, and the Gungan representative, Jobee Qod.

Occasionally, your father would sit in on these meetings as he was well versed in all things Naboo politics. Thankfully, though, he was off visiting your mother on Hosnian Prime. If he got wind that you were hoping to aid the Resistance, choosing a definitive side in the cold war between the Resistance and the First Order, when the Senate specifically forbade it, he would personally ask for your dethronement.

“Your Highness,” Broden said, taking your hands in his. “Naboo is once again blessed with your presence.”

“Thank you, Lord Broden,” you said, taking your seat.

“How went your trip to Bith, Your Highness?” Lala Jrul asked with a kind smile.

“Wonderfully well. We have worked out a trades deal that shall be beneficial to both of our planets.” You took a pause, looking at the rest of your council, trying to sense their reaction before they gave it. “My discussion with Bith gave me another idea as well,” you said carefully.

“An idea?” Jobee Qod asked.

“It has been a long time since the building of our Ion Pulse, since any real threat was attempted to our way of life. We have been lucky, but we are not the only ones in the galaxy. Our trades deal with Bith has given me the idea to draft new legislation.” Sondé stepped forward with your plans and projected them on the Holo table. “With our shared commitment to helping others, I have come up with a plan where we can share resources with endangered people and places all over the galaxy. This program would be run by a group of advisors who would decide what issues most need our help and choose the necessary supplies. We’ll make sure to get students and other bright minds from around Naboo to join the program, creating a group of young leaders ready to make a change.”

“Who would you suggest lead this program?” Broden asked after a moment’s thought.

“I don’t have an initial pick right now, but there are a handful of people I would trust as interim until one can be appointed by our council.”

“What about when we need help?” Rickan Gilkpasc asked.

“Of course, the Naboo are our first and most important priority, but with each and every act, we’d be gaining allies who would help us out if we run into trouble. If we ran into a course of action where we needed to step back, then our advisors would decide to do so.”

“Meesa thinks issa splendid idea,” Jobee said.

“Thank you, Councilor.”

“I second that,” Lala added.

“I agree,” Broden said, smiling at you. With his vote, your program would go into action, and you could help the Resistance.

“Thank you for your confidence, and I hope to earn the rest of yours as well once the time comes,” you said, looking to the other council members who looked less ecstatic about your proposed plan.

“You always do eventually,” Sarin said with a smile.

Each of the councilors had their own proposals to discuss, so your meeting lasted for another two hours. Once finished, you were the first to stand and leave. You went out a side exit and waited for everyone else to leave so you could have a word with Broden.

“Your Highness?” a voice asked, making you jump. You slowly stepped away from the pillar you were hiding behind and found Lin Ral standing in front of you. He bowed, making you reluctantly laugh.

“You’ve found me,” you said.

“What is a queen doing hiding in her own palace?”

“Palaces were made for hiding.”

“Is that so?” he asked as he extended his arm to you. With a nod of your head, you took it and allowed him to lead you away from the council chambers.

“When did you arrive?” you asked.

“This morning. A few hours after you did.”

“Yes, the people of Bith kept me for the night,” you said, lying easily. “How are things in Serenno?”

“Wonderful. I wish you would come see it for yourself.”

“Perhaps someday soon,” you said, making him sigh. “What are you doing back?”

“My family sent me to see if we couldn’t tie up the last few strings of our arrangement.”

“Are you here to ask me to marry you?” you asked, looking up at him.

“I am.” You stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking into his eyes to catch a trace of a lie. “But judging by your face, now wouldn’t be a great time.”

“No, I’m sorry, it wouldn’t. I’ve just proposed a lot of new legislation, I have many trips planned in the coming months, this isn’t the time for an engagement.”

“But if it were . . ."

“If you’re asking for an answer, I don’t have one for you. I’m sorry,” you said, unraveling your arm from his.

“Did you meet someone more charming?” he asked. You laughed and shook your head, continuing your walk down the hallway.

“No. I just . . ."

“Can’t marry someone you don’t love,” he finished. You looked back at him, smiling sadly as you carefully nodded. “I didn’t think I could either, but when duty calls—"

“Please, spare me. I’ve heard this from my parents a million times. I have a duty to my people still. I just started campaigning for my next term, if re-elected I will have two more years as queen.”

“Do you want me to wait that long?”

“I can’t tell you to do that.” He nodded and folded his hands behind his back, steeling his demeanor like you had done many times before.

“You’re a very hard person to crack, Your Highness.”

“Years of practice,” you said with a smirk. He bowed his head softly.

“Well, I’ve kept you from your secret rendezvous long enough.”

“Oh, I—"

“There you are, my lady,” Broden said, coming up the hall. Lin smiled at you once more before turning around. “I thought you wished to speak. Did I interrupt?” he asked, glancing down the hall.

“No,” you said, shaking your head to compose yourself. You turned your eyes from the hall and looked up at Broden. “You don’t think they—”

“Suspect anything? Of course not. And why should they? You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re trying to help the right people.”

“The people I think are right.”

“They are. And so are you. You shouldn’t doubt yourself.”

“I try not to,” you said, breathing in.

“Maybe if you delivered the news in person it would put a breath of fresh air in you,” Broden said simply. You looked into his eyes, a smile spreading across your face slowly.

“What?”

“I know you were just there, but I think it’d do you some good to go back to the Resistance base. Perhaps for longer than a night. Sondé can step in for another day or two, but that’s the longest you can stay away. And no more secret missions for quite some time.”

“Absolutely,” you said, quickly hugging him. “Thank you.”

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“Fuck,” Poe groaned, coming to in the torture chamber.

Kylo Ren had collected the information he needed, and once he was done, he pushed Poe’s head one last time against the metal headrest, knocking him out cold. Poe pulled on his restraints, knowing that he needed to warn the Resistance. Ren knew that the map to Luke Skywalker was in BB-8, which meant that everything he had fought for during the last few years was now in jeopardy.

The restraints weren’t budging, and the longer he sat there, the more his mind began to wander. The images that Kylo Ren had managed to salvage from his mind were playing over and over in his mind. He felt like he had betrayed you, showing all of your most intimate moments to that monster.

The doors slid open, taking him from his memories. Poe opened his eyes, unaware he had even shut them, to see another Stormtrooper walk into the room.

“Ren wants the prisoner,” the newcomer instructed. The guard watching over Poe nodded and released him from his restraints. Expecting that he was about to be led to his execution, Poe looked at his guide less than enthusiastically. The new Stormtrooper ripped him down from his shackles, only to handcuff him again

“Come on,” he said, pulling Poe into the hall. He marched him up and down corridors, so much so that Poe couldn’t have found his way back to his cell even if he wanted to. One more twist around a corner and the Stormtrooper commanded him to turn into an abandoned closet.

“Listen carefully. You do exactly as I say, I can get you out of here,” the Stormtrooper said quickly.

“Wh— what?” Poe asked. His mind was still reeling from Ren’s torture, but he thought he just heard the Stormtrooper say that he could help him escape. The Stormtrooper took off his helmet and Poe took him in for a moment.

“This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape. Can you fly a TIE fighter?” he asked.

“Are you with the Resistance?” Poe asked.

“What? No, no, no, I’m breaking you out. Can you fly a TIE fighter?” he asked again.

“I can fly anything,” Poe said confidently. “Why— why are you helping me?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Poe fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“You need a pilot.”

“I need a pilot,” the other man conceded. Poe looked into his eyes, seeing that he was genuine and beamed.

“We’re gonna do this.”

“Yeah?”

They got back into position, the Stormtrooper with his helmet back on, Poe reshackled in his handcuffs. He marched Poe through the halls until reaching the hangar. Stormtroopers were everywhere, but the thought of getting BB-8 back and away from the First Order kept him smooth and steady. His accomplice, however, was anything but relaxed.

“Okay, stay calm, stay calm,” he muttered, glancing around.

“I am calm.”

“I was talking to myself,” the man said. Poe reminded himself that he needed to escape, no matter who with. He readied himself, and at the Stormtrooper’s command, turned to the left and boarded one of the TIE fighters lining the wall.

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You returned to the Resistance base with less decorum than the first time. Sondé was masquerading as you back on Naboo, which meant that you weren’t actually here. You sent Leia a transmission that you were coming, and she met you in the back of the base. There wasn’t a large welcoming committee waiting for you on the base, which was a relief. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t Queen Bhavisama, you were just Y/N.

“Y/N,” Leia said with a smile, taking your hands in hers. She took you in for a moment, your blue dress, and your hair in natural curls down your back.

“Thank you for having me back on such short notice.”

“You don’t need to thank me, this was your home once, too. We’re always glad to have you back. And you’ve come bringing good news, I hope?”

“Yes. The Naboo Royal Advisory Council approved my legislation, which means, through some handiwork of Broden’s, we can transfer credits to the Resistance without anyone taking notice.”

“I don’t know how you managed to pull that off, but all I can say is I’m glad you’re on our side,” Leia said. Smiling, you followed her into the base just as the dark clouds that had threatened to rain all day made good on their promise. You rung out some of the water from your dress and when you looked up, Leia was smiling at you.

“What?”

“It’s just really good to see you. You know, acting like yourself.”

“Well,” you hummed, “I still don’t feel much like myself. It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere without a trail of people following behind me. I still feel so strange being back here,” you said with a sigh.

“I might have a way to fix that,” Leia said, opening the door to the main, bustling hallway of the base. You looked around the room and saw a group of orange jumpsuits gathered around a Holo table.

“Leia, I’m not sure I’m ready to—”

“Poe’s off on a mission right now,” she said, smiling back at you. “But I thought it would be good for you to see how your donation will be used in our fight.” She led you over to the table and each of the members of Black Squadron looked at her with admiration, and you with anything but.

“General,” Snap said, nodding his head. “Your H—”

“Uh, just Y/N, Snap,” you said with a smile. “Bhavisama is back on Naboo.” He nodded his understanding and even granted you a small smile.

“What brings you here, Y/N?” he asked.

“She comes bearing gifts,” Leia explained.

“My Royal Advisory Council has approved my program to give aid to lifeforms all around the galaxy. Our first donation will be to help the Resistance.”

“That’s wonderful,” Suralinda said. “Thank you.”

“You’re really welcome.”

“We’re supposed to have a strategy meeting about upcoming missions, why don’t you stick around and hear how your contribution will be put to use,” Leia offered.

“Oh, I shouldn’t.”

“I insist,” Leia said, motioning for you to take a seat.

Her debriefing only lasted for a few minutes. She explained to the group vague, but powerful plans for what to do when the credits and supplies started coming in. She spoke about which planets they would start on, where their strongest enemies were, and everything in between until there was nothing else to cover, except one thing.

“Of course,” Leia said, “This all relies on what information Poe is able to gather on his mission.”

“Are you going to tell us where you sent him, yet?” Karé asked. “Or when he’ll be back?”

“No need.” You all turned your head at the sound to see Commander D’Acy walk into the room. “Commander Dameron just returned,” she said. There was a clear look of worry on her face.

“Is he alright?” Suralinda asked, quickly standing. “Can we see him?”

“Of course. He’s in the Medical Wing.” The rest hung around for the rest of the story, but Suralinda took off immediately. As you watched her leave, you felt a twinge of jealousy.

“What happened?” Leia asked.

“He’s fine. Ran into The First Order,” D’Acy replied.

“Did he find the map to Luke?” Leia asked.

“Map to Luke?” you asked in shock. She seemed to remember that you were still here for the first time and immediately stood.

“Y/N, would you excuse us?” she asked, coming over to your side and pulling you up out of your chair.

“What? No. Why? I thought I was supposed to see how my donation was going to help—”

“Yes, but this information is confidential.”

“Are you kidding me? If Poe found information on—”

“Y/N, please understand, now is not the time,” Leia said firmly. You breathed out of your nose, hoping to calm your anger before it boiled over. It felt like you had just been scolded by one of your parents, in front of all of your old friends. You scoffed and looked to them for any needed assistance. They all averted their eyes, frowning sheepishly.

“Fine,” you said, “Let me know when you’d like more than just my money.”

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Leia sat down again after you had stormed out and explained to Black Squadron the mission on which she had sent Poe. They all agreed that with the severity of Poe’s mission, it was best to be careful about who knew what until they could secure the map to Luke.

All eager to see Poe, they went down to the Medical Wing together. As they walked in, they saw Suralinda’s hand wrapped around Poe’s bandaged bicep, smiling at him. He had a few bandages on the rest of his body and lots of cuts on his face and hands, but he had definitely looked worse. When he saw the rest of his friends, he sat forward and beckoned them forward.

“How are you feeling?” Snap asked, touching his shoulder.

“I’ve been worse. Glad to see you’re all worried about me, though.”

“Worried about you?” Snap asked with a grin, “Never.”

“Yeah, we were actually all hoping that Snap would get your job,” Karé said with a smile, wrapping her hands around her husband’s shoulder.

“Well, I’m not gone yet.”

“Not for a long time,” Snap said, taking his hand in a firm grip.

Poe smiled along with his friends until his eyes found Leia’s. For a moment he forgot the monumental fuck-up he had created by losing the map to Luke. He cleared his throat to keep from laughing at something Jessika said and looked at her seriously.

“I’m sorry, General, I don’t have the map to Luke.”

“Lor San Tekka didn’t have it?”

“No, he did, but I stowed the map inside of BB-8 before the First Order captured me.” They all looked anywhere from mildly surprised to downright outraged that he had been taken by the First Order.

“Alright, so let’s go get BB-8,” Jessika said. “Is he still down on Jakku?”

“I don’t know,” Poe said with a sigh. Leia looked at him curiously, sensing that there was something he was hiding. “When the First Order captured me, Kylo Ren took it upon himself to get the map’s location out of me. I wasn’t able to resist him. He used some kind of mind trick—”

“Did the First Order get to the map already?” Leia asked, cutting him off.

“I don’t know. BB-8 wasn’t on Jakku when we crash-landed.”

“Who’s we?” Suralinda asked.

Poe filled them in on his new friend, Finn. He explained what happened when they landed on Jakku, his rescue by Naka Iit and how he got back to base; the entire time, reading Leia’s face to gauge just how disappointed in him she was.

“Well, we must find BB-8 before the First Order does,” Leia said, standing, “Javos, reach out to your contacts in the Outer Rim and have Threepio do so as well. Black Squadron, suit up. Once we have confirmation of BB-8’s location, we’ll need an immediate rescue mission.”

“Yes, General,” they chorused, making their way towards the door. Poe began to sit up, hoping to join them, as Leia put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“Not you,” she said firmly.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not well, Poe.”

“I’m fine. Quick shower and I’ll be ready to go,” he said, once again trying to get out of bed.

“He was in your mind, Poe. It’s not something you can immediately snap back from.” He thought back to the memories that Ren had extracted from his mind, trying to piece them back together. Leia frowned at him, touching his arm softly.

“I have to do this,” he said softly, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I’m the one who lost the map.” It was difficult for him to admit defeat, especially to his mentor. “He broke me, Leia.”

“Even the strongest person would succumb to his powers.”

“Yeah, not me. It wasn’t supposed to happen to me.”

“You’re not invincible, Poe. No matter what you try to convince yourself. It’s okay to be compromised,” she said. He dropped his head with a sigh. “We can get the map back.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s bothering you?” she asked.

“He didn’t just look for the secrets to the map,” he admitted.

“Y/N?” she asked, already expecting his answer.

“Yeah. He decided to take a detour through our personal memories just to fuck with my mind.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. Poe shook his head, looking across the room at nothing in particular. “It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have let him in,” he said, looking back at her seriously.

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about that now,” she said with a frown. “Except get the map before he does.”

“I thought you said I couldn’t go—”

“I’m not stupid enough to think that you won’t tag along anyways once I leave this room. So, I might as well tell you what you’ve missed before you dash off to save the day.”

“Alright,” Poe said with a laugh.

“Y/N was able to get us the funds we need to keep our fight going.”

“That’s great. Right?” Poe asked, looking at her worried face.

“It is. I just wanted to warn you that she’s here.”

“Here? As in here here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked.

“She wanted to deliver the good news in person.”

“And?”

“And she misses it here just as much as we miss her. She was just giving Black Squadron the good news when Commander D’Acy said you were back. I sent her away when the discussion turned to Luke.”

“Why?”

“Because Y/N isn’t just a member of the Resistance anymore, she’s the queen of a planet. We won’t always be her top priority. I want you leading Black Squadron when we locate BB-8’s location, but only if you’re up for it. I am worried about you, Poe. You’re only to go on this mission if you’re well enough.”

“I am. I won’t let you down again.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said, standing. “You’ll be ready soon?”

“Yes, General.”

“Good.” She smiled as she walked to the door and stopped with her hand on the handle as Poe called her name.

“Leia, is Y/N still here?” he asked.

“For the time being. Why?”

“It’s nothing. I’d just like to apologize,” he said weakly. Leia frowned and walked back to him.

“I’m sure you both have a lot to apologize for, but if you’re going to apologize for what Kylo Ren did, save your breath. Y/N knows the power of his control. She wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“It’s not just that,” he said, taking a deep breath, looking at his bandaged arm.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a sigh.

“I meant what I said, Poe. I only want you out there if you’re ready.”

“I am ready, General.”

“Good. Get the map.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Poe said with his most charming grin.

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw #sw imagine #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction #the rise of skywalker

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womansharry · 4 years

Text

SHE

Chapter 4 - Lit The Fire

catch up here! 1, 2, and 3 :)

Juliet pushed opened the heavy door to the Palmer and Associates office building. It looked similar to almost every other office building she had ever been inside. This particular office was home to Miller and Brayden, the company that would hopefully be backing her brand financially.

She breathed a contented sigh as she took the elevator to the 76th floor. She had felt different since her trip to Rome. Maybe it was a new found confidence. Maybe that, coupled with the fact that Harry had been texting her since she got back to New York. She felt like a teenager that was love struck. Every time his name popped up on her phone she got butterflies. And her heart overflowed when she would talk on the phone with him. His voice was always warm and filled with kindness.

He was now back in London. The time difference between New York and London was a bit more bearable than the one between New York and Italy. But, she wished that he was closer. She just wanted to see him in person again.

"Hi, can I help you?" A perky girl that wasn't much younger than Juliet sat behind a large Mac computer typing away at the reception desk of Miller and Brayden.

"Yeah, I'm Juliet Oliver. I have a meeting with Josh and Collin." The young girl typed quickly on the keyboard before responding.

"Oh yes. I see that right here. Why don't you have a seat. I'll let them know that you're here."

Juliet sat down in one of the plush chairs beside the reception area. She took her phone out of her bag. It was 9:30 in New York, meaning that it was 2:30 in London. She had a text from Harry. She quickly opened it.

I'm going into the studio for a bit. I won't have my phone much. Can I call you later? Miss your voice x

She couldn't help but smile as she typed out a response.

Sounds like fun. Of course, I'm getting ready to go into one of my meetings for the week. Hopefully, this is gonna get the ball rolling with the clothing line.

"Miss Oliver, they're ready for you in the conference room. I'll take you there."

Juliet stood from her spot and followed the girl down a dimily lit hallway. She opened a door and Juliet stepped into the conference room. She was meeting with these particular investors for the second time. She had already pitched her ideas to them. This was the follow up where they gave her their answer.

Josh and Collin stood up and shook her hand.

"Thanks so much for coming back in Juliet." Juliet nodded, as if she had a choice in the matter. She sat back in the chair across from the two men.

"Juliet, we're sorry to tell you this, but it's just not feasible for us to back your line." Juliet stared blankly at the two men. What the hell?

"Okay, can I ask why?" She heard herself say, she didn't exactly know how it came out.

"We just don't feel like it pushes boundaries. And on the other hand, we don't feel like it's going to be a smart direction for us." Josh tried to reason with her.

"You think it'll go under as soon as it starts don't you?" She didn't mean to snap, but at this point she didn't care.

"It isn't that. We're both really sorry that it isn't going to work out." Collin said as he stood.

I'm sure you're sorry. She thought to herself. "Thank you guys for your time." She walked out the door and didn't stop until she was on the street in front of the building. Her mind was running a hundred miles a minute. She had put so much work in this brand, she had sat in all the meetings thus far, she had built an entire brand herself. She'd be damned if she'd let these two men get in her way. She needed to call Sierra, her best friend and assistant on this project. But Sierra took a backseat to Harry. She knew he may not answer her call, but it was worth a try.

The line rang a few times before she heard him. "Jules? Y'okay?" She moved from the middle of the crowded sidewalk. She leaned against the gray concrete of the building, relief flooding her body as soon as the words were out of his mouth. She hadn't expected him to answer the phone.

"Hey. Um, not really, no. I just left the meeting with the potential investors. They said no." It had stung to say it out loud. Of course she knew that rejection was eminent and it came with the territory. She just hadn't expected it after the initial meeting with Josh and Collin.

"Oh, did they say why?" She heard a door shut on the other end.

"They said it didn't push boundaries and it wasn't a smart invest. Is it because I'm a woman, Harry?" The last part came out more like a whisper.

"No no no. These two blokes jus' sound like dickheads."

"It's because I'm a woman. And men like that can't stand to see women in power. They don't want to even entertain the thought of a women calling the shots." She continued, disregarding Harry's comment.

"Jules, ya been showing me ya mockups, ya brand kit, and 's bloody brilliant. These idiots obviously don't know what their talking about." He tried to reassure her.

"It's just so frustrating, Harry. I've been working on this stuff for so long. And I swear the initial meeting went so well. But now, I'm back to the drawing board. If I don't get money, I don't get to move on to the next step."

There was a beat of silence. "Anyway, I'm sorry I called you. I know you're at the studio and I shouldn't be bothering you. You've probably got a deadline."

"Wanted to talk to ya. 'S not a big deal, okay. Listen, what if I invested in your brand?" Juliet laughed at his question. Harry stayed quiet on the other end.

"Oh, you're serious? Harry, I couldn't ask that of you."

"What if 's something I wanna do. I would be a private investor, no one would know. Ya can still call the shots." Juliet took a deep breath. She was overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness. But, she couldn't seriously ask him to do something this drastic.

"Harry, I don't know."

"Jules, I know what it's like to create things and wanna share them with other people. Has my path been a bit unconventional? 'f course, but I know what 's like to pursue something ya love. And I wanna help ya do the same. Will ya at least think about it? Please?"

"I appreciate it Harry. Of course I'll think about it." She could practically hear his grin through the phone.

"'f course. Wanna facetime later?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to you later, okay? Thank you."

"Ya welcome, love."

___

"There's Simon & West. Their head investor is Jackie West. It says here that Simon & West pride themselves on creating a diverse workplace. They created a firm where people are encouraged to be different and they celebrate that."

"How did I not find them before? I'm gonna call them." Sierra turned her computer screen towards Juliet and she quickly dialed the number.

"Simon and West, how may I direct your call?"

"Hi, this is Juliet Oliver. I would love to talk with someone about meeting with someone at your office."

"Thank you for your interest. Unforunatly, the earliest we can get you on the list, is November. Would you like to go ahead and put your name down?"

"Oh, um no thank you. Thanks for your time." She hung up and threw her phone on her couch. "They cant meet with me until November and it's June, what the hell?"

"Why don't you just take Harry up on his offer?" Juliet sat down at the kitchen island and looked over at her best friend.

"Because, I don't want to use him for his money. Besides, this is my project. I wanna be the one to do it." Sierra gave Juliet a kind smile.

"You can be so hard headed sometimes. It's okay to ask for help sometimes."

"I know, I know. I just want to try. His offer is still on the table." Juliet heard her phone go off in her living room and Sierra shut her laptop.

"I'm gonna go, I have a big day tomorrow. Lots and lots of photoshoots." Sierra collected her things and headed out the door. The two girls had been friends since they were in high school. Along with their other friend Kennedy. Sierra had been working for a boutique in SoHo since she graduated from NYU. Now she was running their social media.

Juliet picked her phone up and saw a new text from Harry.

Facetime me?

She switched to the facetime app and clicked on his contact. It rang for a second before the call connected.

"'ey," he gave her a smile. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his hair was damp, like he had just taken a shower.

"Hey yourself. How was the studio?" She sat down on her couch.

"Good, we got some things done today. Did ya find another investor to meet with?"

"Well, not quite. I called another agency, one that would probably be great to work with. But, I couldn't meet with them until November? How crazy is that? God, it's the beginning of June. That's 5 whole months away."

"'m sorry that ya having a tough time finding someone. My offers still on the table." She smiled at him.

"I know, and I appreciate that."

____

It was a freak thing, really. How Juliet was able to meet with the investors at Lawson Financiers. She had talked with several people and Blake Lawson happened to be one of them. He had told her that he would love to meet with her, but couldn't meet until next week. However, he had called her the next day and asked if she could come in because he had a cancellation.

She walked into the office in Midtown with a newfound confidence. "Hi, I'm Juliet Oliver. I'm here to meet with Blake."

A blonde women stood from the reception desk. "Yes, right this way." Juliet pulled her phone out and texted harry quickly.

Going into my meeting, with me luck.

"Juliet, nice to see you." Blake shook her hand and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "So, I already looked through some of the things that you sent me. And I have to say, I'm impressed. I like what you've got. Tell me more."

"Well, first of all, thank you. So, I've been imagining this line in my head for years. And I finally sat down and brought it to life. I want to bring sustainable classic pieces to anyone who wants to dress chic. I know personally, I'm at an advantage when it comes to shopping. I have money and can buy what I want. I just want to bring quality clothing to others." He gave her a smile.

"I think it's a great concept. And I'm all in. I know typically it takes time for these decisions to be made. But I would like to invest in JO Collective."

Wow. She thought to her self.

"Don't worry, you don't have to make a decision right now. I would appreciate if you could let me know by Friday through. Will that work?"

"Yeah, of course. Thank you so much Blake. I'll let you know something ASAP." She shook his hand and left the office building. She pulled her phone out, Harry hadn't responded.

Juliet stopped for an iced latte on her way home. She had so many things running through her head. She was so glad that she had been able to meet with Blake. As she pushed her front door open she head the tv on. She swore she had turned it off when she left.

As she walked down the stairs she held her breath. When she reached the living room she saw him. Harry was sitting on her couch.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. Her heart was racing. He gave her one of his signature grins.

"Well, 've been missing ya. And I knew ya been going through so much. So, I decided to come see ya. Hope 's okay." He looked down at the floor and blushed a little.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't get all shy on me. Of course, it's okay." She wrapped him in a hug. "I'm glad that you're here, I have good news. I have an investor that's interested in the line." Harry's face fell a little. It was just enough for Juliet to notice it.

"'S not me." He let out a breathe.

"No, it isn't."

"Just wanted to help ya is all."

"I know. You really wanted to invest in it, didn't you?" She moved her hand to his face and let her thumb stroke his cheek.

"Wouldn't have offered if I didn't," She knew he wasnt trying to be an ass. He was just being sincere.

"What if I counter the invester I have on board. What if it's a partnership between their firm and a private investor."

"Dont feel like ya have to please me."

"No, that actually would be nice for my sake. It'd be you and me against the investors at this firm." He looked at her, and it made her heart skip a beat.

"'M in." He said and pulled her in for a kiss. It was slow and passionate. It lit a fire inside Juliet. When they broke apart Harry leaned his forehead against Juliet's. "Think we make a good team." _____________________________________________________________________

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine

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aka-indulgence · 5 years

Text

Nighttime Surprise

Not exactly a ‘usual’ stress-relief, but also.. yes? Not in the usual sense, though I may have self projected. Maybe. Something I wrote that wouldn’t strain my one month unused writing muscles... And enjoy it too

Summary: You don’t know what your relationship with (HT!)Sans is. Just that it’s close and intimate... And it’s going to get much more so when you suddenly find the guy in front of your shoebox apartment door.

It was night. You were tired. And having a heavy case of the tension headaches.

You were feeling thoroughly like a piece of garbage. You hadn’t done anything today.

You had called in sick, when you were thinking to do so many of those “adult responsibility things”. Like going to the bank before your work started, and going to to the party after the work that your colleague was having. It wasn’t a party really- just that friends had invited to go drinking at a bar. You weren’t that big of a drinker- maybe just drinking on celebratory nights or when you were invited, never looking for it on your own.

But when you woke up to feel that grogginess in your eyes, the chills and slight shivers when you shifted around in your bed, the tenderness of your muscles and the fact you felt too hot when you had the blanket over you, but started getting more chills when you took it off- You’re sure if you didn’t get proper rest, you’d get a fever, and you didn’t want that.

Forcing yourself to work won’t solve anything.

You sighed as you watched the clock tick, getting past midnight.

You groaned.

Why… Were you… Still awake?

You may have heard enough medical advice to tell you about things. You’re supposed to rest so you’d feel better the next day. But… Throughout the day, while you were just lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you thought how much more productive you could be.

But instead, you just sat there. Every time you moved, you felt like gravity had gotten twice more stronger than it should be. You had so many things you could do.

You were also a side reporter. More freelancing than an official one really. Occassionally writing up something in day to day that was worth mentioning to the public, whether it was something interesting that the average person don’t know but might get interested in- to more serious things like when an accident had happened near you.

You never had a schedule, you weren't obliged to keep writing for them every day- but you could send in a piece of your work to be published by them.

Other than that, you had actual snail-mail letters sent to you from family members that you should get to. They take time to deliver, and doing it faster, the better it’d be for them as well. Sure, you’ve all gotten smartphones and could use a messaging program, but there was something special about sending real, tangible things they could touch that needed thought before it gets sent off.

…

And you didn’t do any of that.

Or… Not exactly.

You did try something. You did try writing a report on the amazing ‘job’ a 65 year old man was doing just down the street that everyone undermines- cleaning up leaf litter and just downright litter every day on the road, without getting paid. You did try thinking of things to reply to your cousin who lived seas away from you.

… But everything you did, just seemed not as good as you thought it’d be.

So you groaned, thinking you’re just going to do it another day. But all this… waiting has gotten you stressed.

You know you shouldn’t dwell but… You just tossed and turned in bed, like some kind of annoying purgatory of wanting to do something and can’t, and getting stressed when you don’t do something and just stay lying awake, trying your best to. Fall. Asleep.

“Oh, I didn’t even take a long nap for god’s sake…” You say to yourself, putting a dramatic hand on your forehead.

On top of everything, you were so bored!

You didn’t want to look at your phone, because you worry it’s just going to keep you up. But now you’re just staring at the wall, the ceiling, back to the other wall… And your mind had gotten so numb that you’ve resorted to making weird convulsion-like movement in your bed.

You make a particularly loud groan afterwards, sounding thoroughly miserable. You didn;t do work, didn’t socialize, and even more… You didn’t actually rest, and now your brain seems to be against you in trying to make you sleep.

Just as you attempt to close your eyes again, lying on the bed with a pissed-off look to your face, you suddenly hear three, slow knocks on your door.

Tap.

… You almost screamed a ghastly scream at that, if you weren’t actually just choking yourself so you don’t make the noise.

What the hell was THAT?!

You stand up from your bed, slowly opening the door without the lock that was in front of your front apartment door- Why didn’t these have locks too, what’s the point?!- And leaning in the peephole, praying that you don’t see an eyeball peering back at you.

…

It wasn’t an eye. It was an eye socket. With an eye light inside of it. Red and big, and casting a dim light on the peephole.

“… Sans?!” You almost shout when you realize who he is. Any other human would probably shriek at the mere sight of him in the dramatic darkness of the apartment hallway. What ‘with those skeletal features that most grandparents described death, the creepy’eyelight, and the hole in his skull.’

… Someone had actually said that to you when you were out with him once.

That person had quickly gained a nosebleed from your fist.

You swung open the door to him, the soft look on his face, his smile non-present. Neutral, his eyelight dilated as he took the sight of you that was… Pretty unsightly even to yourself.

“… angel hair?” His face fell a bit at the sight of you.

“Um… Hi, Sans.” You siad simply. “Uh… Didn’t expect you to come so late tonight.”

“… you didn’t come today.”

You know he was talking about work.

You don’t quite sure know about the relationship you had with Sans, just that it was more… Intimate than what you’d call ‘friends’. Nothing explicitly romantic yet, but… Sans doesn’t talk much to people outside of his brother, and you. He doesn’t work with you, but you’d met him in a little restaurant near the building. He worked in a vegetarian restaurant his brother built- you started making small talk to him, and the rest is pretty much history.

You don’t quite know at what point you clicked with him- it just happened gradually, everyday he was talking more and more with you, as you had started going to the restaurant solely to meet him and he started to take closer steps to you… Going to your house, inviting you to his, laughing together on the sofa…

Never making a move on each other.

Just that you know… You both really, really cared about each other. Like right now.

“Sorry… I didn’t tell you.” You frown, yet again slapping yourself mentally, forgetting to tell your really close friend who brought you to work and home, hung out extensively in the your home, and had no problem giving physical affections… That may or may not last longer than they’re supposed to.

“I got sick.. Maybe.”

You didn’t have to explain much more.

He had walked in silently into your apartment flat which wasn’t anything impressive- he always gave it a disapproving stare at the walls around you. Basically only having two rooms minus the entrance ‘room’- bedroom/kitchen, and bathroom.

He had picked you up, closing the door gently before locking it, walking back to your bedroom, plopping you in your bed.

“tell me what you need, pumpkin.” He said as he opened the cabinets, turning out the small light in the ‘kitchen’ area.

“Sans…” You tried to protest.

“you’re hungry.”

… Quickly ending in failure.

You’d let him make you a simple corn soup, worried about the state of your stomach, knowing it might be sensitive. He had sat you up in your bed, helped feed you, giving encouraging waves whenever you went still for a few seconds, the sleepiness seeming to come when he was near you.

Sans being a cook, had made the corn stock soup you had tucked away in your drawer into something restaurant level. The longer you ate the more lively you felt, and as he put the small bowl away in the sink, washing quietly to himself without a word to you… You felt more comfortable just lying on the side with the soft yellow light in the corner of your room, with silent dishwashing in the other corner, than being in the dark with no sound.

The sight of him just wringing his hands and drying them in the tower… Made you smile, thinking how he had come all this way to take care of you the moment you told him you were kind of sick.

After going to the bathroom to collect warm water in a rubber bottle, he came back, placed the water bottle on top of your stomach, and…

He climbed into the bed, arms curling around you, legs wrapped around your lower half. He pressed his skull to the side of your face… A sound similar to the rev of a truck engine slowly but surely getting heard from his ribcage.

… Was that…

Purring?

Well- arguing whether Sans was actually just a big cat or just a monster skeleton- wasn’t the only thing that had made you as stiff as a board, eyes wide.

… This.. Has never happened before.

Sure, you’ve held hands, hugged him, real tight too- but Sans had never just climbed onto your bed, laid in it with you and snuggled close to you. Not that you could remember, at least.

It made your heart beat fast, and you wondered if you were feeling hot because of the warmth that was just radiating off of his body, or… You’re just really, really flushed.

Must be both.

Sans looks completely relaxed while he held you like either a big teddy bear or a body pillow… And you just couldn’t do that. Your heart wouldn’t let that, as well as your tired groginess being pushed to the back of your mind at the closeness.

“… Sans?”

“mmm…?”

Oh GOD his voice sounded really husky right now.

“…” This shouldn’t be an appropriate time but- if anything happens, you’ll just blame it on your non-existent fever. “What are you doing?”

“snuggling you in your bed.” He says simply, as if it was the easiest question he’s ever heard that needed answering. “why?”

“… That’s what I wanted to ask you.” You say meekly… Slowly turning your body to him so you could hug him back, to which he gratefully taken a snugger hold on you. It wasn’t very comfortable with thick bones under your spine right? Not because… You wanted to get closer to the skeleton, no…

“… what do you mean?” He asks, and you see that red eyelight, looking down at you. You’ve never seen it so dilated before.

“… Uh… You came here, made me soup, helped me eat the soup, and now you’re in my bed, h-holding me like this…” Was that the ‘fever’ or your embarrassment making your cheeks burn? “… Why did you come all this way?”

Sans go silent for awhile, as he seems to be thinking.

“… a sweet little human who is gentle and kind to me, hadn’t come to get her lunch of the day… no news, asked her work, told me she called sick. didn’t get a text from her, i got worried. i don’t like not knowing what’s wrong with my little honeypot.” As his gaze seem to fall on you again, you note how fuzzy and soft they were… Radiating adoration at your face.

“when i see the exhaustion just radiating off of her… i can’t just leave her be…. gotta… gotta take care of the ones i love.” He gives you a smile, small and genuine.

“you look like you didn’t sleep.”

“… I didn’t. I couldn’t.” You quickly added, as he shushed you, petting your hair.

“you have me with you. if you need anything, just tell me. i’ll be here, sugar lump.”

… He really did just come in the middle of the night, worried how you were doing despite the fact you didn’t text him… Probably because he was contemplating whether to come to your apartment or not, since you didn’t tell him anything. It’s getting better day by day, but you know how afraid Sans could be at… Losing someone. Making them run away and fear him.

You guess you being sick just overridden all that, now with him openly purring and tucking your head under his chin, curling around you some more.

…

Your relationship just got all the more closer…

And the blooming warmth on your chest, the happy noises he was making the closer he felt he was to you, and the smile on both of yours and his faces told you it was just going to get better from now on.

#stress relief #ht!sans/reader #haven't been writing 'properly' in awhile #thought to make a practice with this #it ain't perfect but...#it's got fluff in the end with big warm boi.#short fic #snippet #guess who read a VERY good ht!sans fic today

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enchantedbride · 4 years

Text

A Ballad of Brimstone.02 (1/2)

<02. But Let Me Go Back to the Start> (1/2)

Tagging: @curiousobsession101, @goldenworldsabound, @foreveryours-mouse, @juliannos

Warning(s): Brief Profanity, Discussions of Being Kidnapped

A/N: If you like me to tag you in my Obey Me or other Self-ship writings, let me know!

As mentioned in the previous installment, this series of ficlets will be jumping around timeline wise. While the first one offers a glimpse into the future, we now go back to the day Joey was summoned to the Devildom to take part in the exchange program.

Due to how long this wound up being I wound up splitting this into two parts, this is part one of two!

She had slipped into a dark slumber that night. Her mind was held by dreams she wouldn’t remember when she awoke in the morning. But, she would remember the sound of soft, beckoning whispers. In the midst of her dreams, they didn’t seem out of place, almost blending into the surreal sensations he mind conjured.

“Come,” they said. “Come this way. Come to us, into the dark below.”

It was like a round, but the words were spoken rather than sung.

Joey felt a sudden, sharp feeling of hesitation that broke through the murkiness of her dreams. But, in response the whispers became more insistent, and she felt the vague sensation of being pulled away. But to where, she didn’t have the awareness to question.

“You must come. Your fate has been decreed.”

Weakly, she tried to pull back against what was pulling her. At first she stopped, but then a more forceful tug overpowered her.

“Come this way,” the whispers insisted once more. “Come... come...”

It started to feel almost like she was falling. Or perhaps she was floating? It was hard for her to tell the difference. She felt the sensation of cloth and hair fluttering, and then-

A high-pitched voice severed the hold of sleep on her.

“She’s waking up. Everyone stand back and let Mister Barbatos through!”

The next thing she sensed was the feeling of pain and throbbing in her temples. Then, she felt the surface underneath her was harder than she remembered her bed being. Joey let out a groan as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Ow...”

The soft light of what appeared to be distant lamps came into view, only to briefly be obscured by a round, inky silhouette. But, as her brows knit and she attempted to understand what she was seeing, she made out the shape of a pair of small, dark blue eyes looking at her before they disappeared. A moment later, the silhouette was gone.

“It looks like she had a rough ride, sir.”

“So it seems,” a voice lower in tone replied to the high-pitched one she heard first. “Lord Diavolo’s suspicions and mine were correct, it appears. Truly extraordinary for a human who appears to have no magic potential.”

Joey turned her head towards the voices, putting her hands to her temples as she attempted to soothe her headache with gentle circular motions. She saw what appeared to be a man in a suit kneeling down in front of her.

“Please try not to move just yet.”

“O-okay.” Joey didn’t move from where she was or change her position, but she kept her fingers to her head. “Sorry, my head really hurts.” What’s going on here? Am I still dreaming?

“No need to apologize,” he assured her. “Here, take your hands away for a moment.”

She complied, resting her hands on either side of her. She felt...was it stone underneath her? It was also at that moment Joey recognized an array of other noises in the background. She could hear the flow of water, the soft pattering of feet, and the distant caw of crows.

“I’m going to touch your forehead,” he explained. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah.” Is he going to check me for a fever?

Joey felt him gently press the tips of his fingers to her forehead, and whisper something she couldn’t quite make out. No, I don’t think this is a dream. This feels too stable to not be real. But then, why am I not in my bed? Where am I? ...Ah! Suddenly, she felt the throbbing pain begin to subside.

“There. Does that feel better?”

“Yes, I’m starting to feel better!” Joey replied. But then she blinked in surprise. “Did you do that? If so, thank you!”

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “I used a minor incantation to ease your pain. It was no trouble.”

“Incantation?” Joey asked. “As in...? You used magic? Real magic?” Or maybe I am dreaming after all?

“Yes,” the man answered her without hesitation. “I take it you’re not the sort of person who believes in magic?”

“Well...” Joey however, did hesitate. “I’ve always wanted to believe there was magic. But I’ve never really seen it. Or... recognized it, I guess.”

“I see. I’m afraid you may have a hard time accepting your current set of circumstances then.”

“You mean, where I am and what’s going on?”

“Precisely.” The man withdrew his hand from her slightly, moving to offer it to her. “Do you think you can stand? If so, try to get up slowly. You can use my hand for support if you’d like.”

“I think so.” Joey pressed her hands to the ground for a moment to help herself sit up. She then took him up on his offer, taking the offered hand to use as leverage to carefully bring herself to her feet. She took a breath for a moment, closing her eyes and opening them again to better take in her surroundings.

“Who are you?” It appeared to be nighttime. The sky was dark with distant stars offering little in the way of light. But there were lamps close by more clearly illuminating stone walkways. They went every which way around a fountain and a bed of flowers that wrapped around it. Though the flowers were nothing like anything Joey recognized.

The air also carried with it smells she didn’t recognize either.

“Ah, of course. I should introduce myself. My name is Barbatos,” said the man. “I believe I already know who you are, however. Your name is Joey Andews, correct?”

“Yes, my name is Joey. But, how do you already know my name?” As if things weren’t already weird enough, she thought.

Barbatos simply smiled. “I’m afraid that will require me first to answer your original questions about what’s happening and where you are. Allow me to start with the latter.” He paused for a moment, looking away from her. Joey followed it and realized that eventually the walkways all went into a large building that surrounded them on all sides.

A courtyard of some kind? Joey wondered. She turned her attention back to him and nodded.

“You’re in a place called the Devildom,” explained Barbatos. “It is the realm of Demonkind, ruled by the Demon King in name. Although my master, his son and heir Prince Diavolo has been governing the realm for some time.” He paused, looking back at her. “It was his wish and his will that brought you here.”

Bewilderment spread across Joey’s face. There was also a knot of fear beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. “The land of Demonkind? Where I come from the name for where demons live is...”

“Hell?” Barbatos cut in to predict the end of her thought. “The realm that sinful and evil human’s souls are banished to in death? Oh, that’s certainly part of it, but there’s more to our realm than most humans speak of to one another.”

Joey felt the instinctive need to take a step back, but she restrained herself. “Okay, so I’m in the realm of Demons. And Prince Diavolo brought me here. Have I got the story straight so far?”

“Indeed you do,” Barbatos confirmed. “Unfortunately there was a bit of a mishap in trying to get you here. You have quite the strong will it seems, Miss Andrews.” At this he laughed. “You resisted my master’s call to the point that you went off course and wound up a bit further away then where you were supposed to appear. But, I was sent to fetch you and guide you to where Lord Diavolo is at present.”

My dream... “I-I see.” But what would a prince of demons want with me? What’s going to happen to me!?

“Your willpower will serve you well here. You may not have magic to protect you, but you have that, at least.” He remarked. “But, I digress. Lord Diavolo has summoned you here to assist him with an undertaking of his- an exchange program between the realms of demons, humans, and angels.”

“An exchange program...?” Joey questioned him. “You make it sound like he intends me to be a student in a school down here.” She of course was joking. Surely he meant something else.

Barbatos laughed once more. “Actually, that’s precisely what he intends.” He turned away again. “We are currently in the courtyard of the Royal Diavolo Academy, or RAD for short as it’s often called. I would say it most closely resembles a university or other similar institutions you may find in the human world,” he explained. “My master founded the school long ago, but he is also enrolled here as a student and serves as President of the Student Council. He is forever trying to improve himself and the Devildom, and thus is forever on a quest to learn, and encourage others to do the same.”

“That’s... quite an admirable thing.” Joey found herself struggling to word what she wanted to say. “So, I’m to be a student at this Royal Diavolo Academy?”

“Exactly.” Barbatos nodded. “You will be joined by two other humans like yourself and three Angels who hail from the Celestial Realm. We’ve sent three of our own to the Celestial Realm, and another three to the Human world to attend schools there for the duration of the exchange, which will be a year on Earth.

“My master’s hope is to foster understanding and respect among angels, humans, and demons, and bring a peace between the realms not seen before. It truly is an ambitious project, I must admit.”

“No kidding!” Joey blinked, face shifting between expressions as she attempted to process everything she was being told. “If what little I know of demons and angels has taught me anything, is peace between them and humans is not an easy thing to achieve. Most people believe it’s impossible.”

“Many angels and demons believe that as well,” Barbatos noted. “But my lord believes otherwise. And, I am certain it lies within the realm of possibility.”

“So then...” Certain pieces began to fall together in her mind. “Was I specifically chosen for this? It wasn’t random or anything? Is that why you know my name?”

“Well... there was an element of randomness to the selection. You were chosen from among many other humans we had information on. But you were specifically chosen from among them, and it is indeed why I know your name.”

Joey thought for a moment. “I think I get the gist of what you're telling me so far,” she said. “But, I’m also wary. And I want to know if I’m allowed to turn this down and ask to be sent home.”

At this Barbatos sighed. “Your wariness is not unwarranted. As to whether you can refuse... you may certainly voice it, but I’m not sure it will be granted. When Lord Diavolo has his mind set on something, it is hard to get him to change course, even if he already has doubts about what he’s doing.That and well... he’s very much used to getting his way, being the Prince of Demons.”

After a moment, Joey raised an eyebrow. One thing was now abundantly clear, and she felt it needed to be said.

“So basically what you’re telling me is I’ve been kidnapped.”

Barbatos fell silent, his brow furrowing as he put his hand to his chin. Joey wasn’t an excellent judge when it came to reading the expressions of others. But were she to take a guess, he was considering what he said next carefully.

This can’t be happening! She screamed internally. You’re telling me demons, angels, and magic are all real. You’re telling me I’ve been snatched by demons to attend what’s basically demon college for... a year he said? This is just... unbelievable! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

“I won’t pretend it is otherwise,” Barbatos finally spoke. “I imagine this is a lot for you to take in. And further still, it must be frightening to be here without prior knowledge and against your will. I doubt you can persuade my master to let you leave and choose another to replace you. You can try if you so like, but I suspect it will prove futile. I can offer you little assurance but this: Diavolo is a demon of honesty. He can tell if anyone is lying, but more importantly to you at this moment, he also never lies. He has made it clear he only intends for the exchange students to attend for a year, and when that year is over, you will be free to go. He will honor his word.”

Joey raised an eyebrow, causing Barbatos to sigh. “I’m sorry I just... I’d certainly like to believe that’s the case. But, it’s kind of hard to be trusting right now given that I was brought here without my consent. And I don’t know you or your master,” said Joey. “But... I do appreciate your attempt to reassure me nonetheless.”

“I’m afraid it’s all I can offer you, Miss Andrews.” Barbatos replied regretfully. “Well... that and perhaps fetching you a change of clothes. I don’t think it would be best to have your first audience with the Prince of Demons in your nightgown.”

“I...” Joey looked down at herself a moment. “Yeah, I suppose that might not be such a bad idea.”

Barbatos smiled, chuckling softly before he became serious once more. “All things considered, I think you’re being rather restrained in your anger about this. And at least somewhat willing to give the benefit of the doubt in spite of your anger.”

“Yeah well...” I’ve just been conditioned to lose my shit internally instead of externally, thanks for noticing. “I’ve always been pretty good at rolling with the punches so to speak.”

“I see.” Barbatos offered a hand. “Well, why don’t we get you changed? I’ll escort you to the assembly hall after.” Joey nodded and took his hand following him down one of the walkways. She noticed Barbatos turn his head and nod to a small shadow with eyes before it faded into the darkness a moment later. She then remembered the silhouette she saw when she first awoke. Another demon? Perhaps a helper to Barbatos, maybe?

This is insane! How do I know I can even trust any of this? How do I know they aren’t just going to… I don’t know, eat me or trap my soul in eternal torment? It seemed all she could really do for now was follow Barbatos and have her audience with his master. Part of her hoped this really was a dream of sorts and that soon she would wake up.

Barbatos took Joey to another part of the building, bringing her into an empty room. A few moments passed in silence between the two before the door opened. A round little creature came scurrying in, and Joey recognized from their eyes that it was the little demon she’d seen before. The demon carried a neatly folded pile of clothing and a hair brush above their head, kneeling down as they presented the pile to Barbatos.

She was then handed the pile and left to herself in the empty room in order to get changed and tidied up. But, as she did so, Joey stayed close to the door, faintly hearing the sound of a phone ringing from just outside. She tried her best to listen in, while also navigating the garments she had been given.

“Apologies, my lord. We will be a little later than expected. It seems she was in nightclothes when she arrived. She’s been given a change of clothes and once she’s dressed and given a chance to tidy up we’ll head down to the assembly hall.”

He’s talking to Prince Diavolo. There was a brief pause, presumably in which there was a reply given.

“I deeply appreciate your patience and good humor in this matter. I promise we’ll be there soon,” said Barbatos. “Miss Andrews is understandably wary and skeptical. But, she’s… surprisingly more composed than I would have expected.” Another pause, but briefer this time. “Has the meeting with the other exchange student already concluded then? … I see. So Mammon is already on his way with her back to the House of Lamentation.”

Joey didn’t take too long to finish dressing herself, smoothing out the wrinkles in the simple dress she was given and tapping the heels of the shoes that came with it. She then quickly brushed her hair and tidied herself up a bit, taking a deep breath before turning the knob of the door to let Barbatos know she was changed and ready. The little demon was outside as well, and took the brush from her before scurrying off into the shadows again.

Barbatos nodded and began to guide her again down the halls of the academy. The interior had an antique, stately feeling to it in terms of aesthetics. But things seemed too spacious for Joey’s personal liking. And shadows seemed to stretch far across the floor.

Eventually they came down a long hallway that seemed to go for some distance. As they walked, Joey could swear she heard the soft sound of sniffling up ahead. Was someone crying? There was also the patter of footsteps that didn’t belong to her or Barbatos.

From behind the corner she saw what appeared to be a man and a woman passing the opposite way. The man seemed to wear a black uniform with his shirt and tie askew, while the woman was dressed in a pair of blue jeans with a baggy t-shirt and tennis shoes.

Once they got closer, it became clear where the source of the sniffling Joey heard before came from. The woman was attempting to rub tears from her eyes and compose herself. Wait… could this be the other exchange student and Mammon that Barbatos spoke of over the phone? I guess they haven’t actually left just yet.

God, she must be so scared.

Joey stopped and attempted to cross to where they were. “Hold on just a sec,” She requested of Barbatos before quickly switching her attention. She couldn’t do much about her situation, but maybe she could at least comfort her fellow captive.

“Excuse me!” Joey called out, returning to a normal tone of voice when she was close enough. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Huh?” The man whom she presumed was Mammon noticed her approach and turned around to face her. But, only a moment later he also noticed Barbatos waiting for Joey not too far away. “Barbatos!” He then briefly turned his attention back to Joey. “I guess that means you must be the other human.” He looked back at the woman accompanying him, his brow furrowing. “As if it wasn’t already bad enough I got saddled with babysitting duty.”

Joey registered him addressing her, but continued to approach the other woman. When she didn’t seem to respond to him, the man blocked her path, a clearly annoyed expression on his face.

“Hey! I was talking to you. Show some proper respect for the Great Mammon, human!”

Joey stopped, briefly looking apologetic. So she was right. “Sorry about that. Yeah, I’m the other human exchange student.… I saw my fellow exchange student in distress and I wanted to help them.” She took a split second to think more on what he said and had an idea. I need to convince him to be more favorable so he’ll let me talk. “Again though, you have my apologies, oh great one.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Mammon smiled approvingly. But it was quickly replaced by a frown. “Look, I’m under orders from my older brother Lucifer to take your fellow human back to where the two of you will be staying. If I dawdle for too long he might think I’m slacking off.” He shook his head. “Not that I’m scared of him or anything! Just don’t want anymore trouble than I’m already dealing with. I can’t let you two stay and chat, we need to keep moving.”

“You can’t even spare a minute?” Joey tried to fumble for an excuse he might buy. “I mean, if you’ve got a lot on your plate, having a sniffling human must be grating on your nerves right? Well, if you give me a couple of minutes to talk to her and she calms a bit it’ll be one less thing, right?”

A moment passed. Mammon shook his head, looking back and forth between the two humans. The other woman looked to Joey hopefully.

“You’ve got two minutes,” Mammon finally decided. “But I’m not giving you any more. Make it quick, human.”

Joey nodded. “Thank you so much! I appreciate this.” She walked passed up to the woman, not noticing Mammon’s awkward body language or hearing his muttered ‘yeah yeah whatever’ under his breath.

The other woman pulled her hand away from her face and looked over to Joey. “H-Hi….”

“Hi,” Joey greeted her, a sympathetic expression forming on her face. “My name is Joey. What’s yours?”

“I’m… I’m Katherine, but I usually go by Kat,” she replied. “Are… are you okay? I heard them say you ended up somewhere you weren’t supposed to.”

“Me? Oh, nothing too major. I’m not hurt or anything. Just a bit, well, out of sorts to put it mildly.” Joey huffed. “I’ll be fine. I wanted to see how YOU were doing.”

“I’m terrified!” Kat explained without reservation. “I’ve been taken away from my home! And they won’t let me go back no matter how much I plead. It’s not fair!”

Joey shook her head. “You’re right, it’s not. It sounds like you were taken here against your will too. I’m really sorry. It’s not right. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem we can do much about that right now. It sucks, but that’s the truth of it.” Joey tried to think quickly before Mammon would insist on her and Kat parting ways. “Hey, is there anything you like to do when you’re stressed out? Or maybe a favorite drink or food you like that’s calming for you?”

“Well…” She thought for a moment. “Mostly I like to go for a run by myself or practice playing my cello. I don’t have my cello though and I don’t think they’d let me go for a run by myself.”

“I see,” Joey replied. “Anything else?”

“I also… sometimes take hot baths. Especially when it’s been cold out.”

“That might work! If it’s possible, when you get to where you’re going to be staying, maybe you can try and take a hot bath as soon as you can? It’s not much but maybe it might help, even just a little.”

“I don’t know,” Kat hesitated. “It just feels like everything is just crazy.”

“Completely understandable,” Joey answered sympathetically. “But maybe giving yourself a little comfort and a chance to destress a bit might help you to think and come down from a state of panic. Maybe there’s not a lot you can do right now, but you can do that, right?”

Kat paused briefly. “I guess so,” she said with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll feel worse if I don’t do anything at all, so I might as well.” She turned her gaze away and then back. “Thank you. For trying to help, I mean.”

I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing, thought Joey.

Kat turned to Mammon. “Sorry for holding things up. I’m ready to go now.” Mammon nodded and started walking, Kat following after him.

“Alright, let’s go!” He answered. “Don’t fall too far behind me, human. It’s my job to keep an eye on you and I don’t want to get blamed if something happens to you.”

Joey was unsure of her true impact on things. But at least now her mind would be at ease knowing she at least tried. But, thanks to the conversation, something else was also on her mind. Kat pleaded to be sent home and she was refused. I guess if she couldn’t convince them my luck might not be so good either. I guess I really should be prepared to be stuck here for a year.

“That was a very brave thing you did,” Barbatos remarked. “Especially considering who you were talking to.”

“You mean Kat? Or Mammon?” Joey asked, confused for a moment. She walked back to Barbatos, waiting for him to start their trek to the assembly hall again.

“I was referring to Mammon in this case,” Barbatos clarified. “He may not look like it as he is now. But, he is a very powerful demon. Among the most powerful in fact.”

Joey blinked looking back in surprise. “Wow, seriously?”

“All members of the Student Council are high ranking demons. Currently, the council includes Prince Diavolo, his right hand, Lucifer, and Lucifer’s six brothers.” Barbatos began to walk, Joey following in step alongside him this time. “Lucifer and his brothers are the avatars of the seven deadly sins, not demons any human should approach too casually under most circumstances. Mammon is the eldest brother after Lucifer and the Avatar of Greed.”

Joey’s eyes widened. “So Mammon’s got some serious weight to throw around.” I guess I really lucked out in managing to flatter my way into trying to help Kat.

“Yes.”

“I’m not so sure that makes me brave,” she replied to Barbatos.

“Would you have ignored your instinct to try and help your fellow human if you knew who it was you were dealing with?”

“Well,” Joey barely paused to give her answer. “No, not really. I might have been more nervous and pessimistic about my chances of persuading him. But, I still would have tried for her sake.”

“Then your actions are no less brave, Miss Andrews,” Barbatos said with a smile. “Now, if you’ll come with me this way, we are nearly at the assembly hall.”

Joey nodded, and attempted to keep pace with Barbatos down a winding and even more spacious hallway. Eventually they came upon a large set of metal doors, with ornate decorations embossed into them. If Joey were to take a guess, this was it. The assembly hall. She followed right up to the doors. And then, Barbartos reached out, pulling on the handle.

“Wait one moment. I need to speak with my lord for a moment. But then, you may enter the assembly hall.”

Indeed he went inside and was gone for maybe a minute or two. She could hear voices but they were muffled from this side of the door. Eventually, Barbatos came back out, pulling the door open and stepping aside for Joey to walk through.

“Right this way.”

Joey began to make her way inside, but not before turning to Barbartos.

“Thanks for helping me get here, and for explaining everything you did Barbatos. I’d be pretty terrified and lost right now otherwise.” I’m still pretty terrified to be honest. But at least I know what I’m dealing with.

“It was no trouble, and it was my express duty to assist you as per my lord’s orders. But, your thanks is appreciated. I wish you the best of luck, whatever your fate may be.”

With that, Joey stepped inside and Barbatos closed the door behind her.

#tales of a magus (fanfiction)#verse (into the dark and back: obey me)#modern persephone (obey me!joey)

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abouldersbxtch · 4 years

Text

Fight Me

A little over a week had passed since Karina got settled into her dorm and had started to live with the rest of her class. Things were going well, classes were great, and she had been making plenty of friends both within her class and from other classes as well. However, it remained that only Mina, Momo, and Jiro knew her secret and she was grateful that they had kept their promise to keep her secret. Another day of classes had gone by and Karina had locked herself away in her room so that she could focus on her homework. They weren’t too far ahead from where she had been in her homeschooling, but with so many different classes being thrown at her with different projects and assignments, she was struggling to keep up. Regardless, she did her best and studied as often as she could and some of her classmates were very willing when she asked for help. She was just about done with a math assignment when she looked out the window in front of her desk and she spotted Bakugo, Kirishima, and Sero all walking away from the dorm building. By now she was aware that they were going to train. They usually trained before classes or after them and this morning they hadn't gone. Curiosity getting the better of her, she stood up from her seat, walked over to the door that lead to her own personal balcony that everyone had attached to their rooms, and shifted into a crow. After maneuvering herself out of the clothes she had been wearing, she took off into the sky. As she flew after them, she made sure to be careful and to keep some distance between herself and the boys. She stuck to the shadows and followed them to the gym. As they walked in, she knew she wouldn't be able to get through the door quick enough before it closed and also avoid them noticing her. She perched herself on the ground nearby and waited a few moments and then shifted into a small mouse before squeezing herself under the door and into the gym. She scurried to a safe spot and watched them start to train, taking mental notes as she watched them. She was honestly impressed with how strong they all were and how far they had come since the first time she saw them on TV at the Sports Festival and it inspired her to want to better herself and her quirk even more than she already did.

The sneaking around continued for a few more days where she would secretly watch the boys train and take mental notes about how they fought, until she decided it was time for her to train with them. It was another night where the boys went to train and Bakugo, Kirishima, Denki, and Sero were already in the gym. Karina threw on a grey sports bra, a hoodie, and some black workout pants that hugged her body. After getting dressed, she threw her long crimson hair up into a high ponytail and walked out of her room. She left the elevator once she reached the main floor and as she was walking through the living area, Mina and Tsu looked over at her and Mina waved at her to get her attention. "And just where are you off to young lady?" Karina stopped near the door and looked over at her with a smile on her face. "Oh, I'm just going to go train with the boys." Tsu and Mina looked at each other in slight concern before looking back at their clearly delusional friend. "Bakugo doesn't really like people interrupting them, and you know how rude he can be." Tsu tried to warn her, but Karina just smirked. "Don't worry about me. I can handle Katsuki. I'll be back later." She smiled at them reassuringly and gave a small wave as she walked out of the dorms, leaving Mina and Tsu. She knew they would probably worry about her, but she couldn't worry about that. She was going to train with them and if she had to finally stand her ground with Bakugo to make it happen, then that's exactly what she was going to do. Her determination to better herself and her quirk were what drove her to keep walking towards the gym and what also shooed away any nervousness she may have had. As she approached the door, she took a deep breath and then pushed it open. The boys didn't notice her at first which gave her time to remove her hoodie and toss it to the side. She was only noticed as she started walking towards them and Denki was the one to notice her. "Karina! What are you doing here?" He ran over to her which caused the other three to stop what they were doing except for Bakugo who sent one last blast towards Kirishima whose skin was hardened. However, because he was distracted by Karina walking in, he was knocked onto his back on the ground. Denki gave her a fist bump and she grinned at him. "I figured I'd come and train with you guys, if that's okay." "Awesome! Tha-" Bakugo cut Denki off as he walked over towards them. "No. You'll just get in the way. Go train with the other extras." Kirishima was quick to get to his feet and he was right behind Bakugo, frowning at his best friends words. "Oh come on Bakugo." Karina walked up closer to Bakugo, narrowing her eyes at him. "First off, those 'extras' are your classmates so show them the respect they deserve. Second off, I can train with whoever I want, wherever I want. If anyone here is willing to help train with me, then I'll take the help. If I want to better myself, you don't get to hinder that. Am I clear?" Bakugo glared at her, stepping towards her to show, what she assumed was, him not backing down either. "I don't care who you train with, but I'm not going to have you hindering my training either extra." "Call me an extra again and see what happens." Karina stepped even closer, their faces mere inches away from each other as they glared at each other, her golden eyes glaring daggers into his red eyes. The rest of the guys were staring in shock that Karina was standing up to Bakugo. Bakugo smirked as he looked down at her, only standing an inch taller than her. "Extra." His tone was meant to taunt her and so was the cocky smirk on his face because he must have thought that she wasn't actually going to do anything, but he was very wrong on that assumption.

Without hesitation, Karina dropped down low and swiped her right leg out and against Bakugo's legs, knocking them out from under him and sending him to the ground. She stood up straight and looked down at him with a smirk of her own on her face and her hands resting on her hips. Bakugo was fuming as he stood up, but Kirishima and Sero were quick to try and hold him back while Denki tried to pull Karina away from the situation. However, Karina pulled away from Denki and looked at the boys holding Bakugo back. "Let him go." Kirishima shook his head. "That's not a good idea. Karina please, you shou-" Karina held her index finger up to him to get him to stop talking momentarily. "Eijiro, let him go. I can handle him." Reluctantly, Kiri and Sero released Bakugo and he was right up in her face again. "What the hell are you playing at?" Karina didn't back down as she looked up at him. "Fight me." Bakugo raised his brows, clearly thrown off by her words. "I'll blast you to hell." Karina laughed and shook her head. "No. I mean fight me. No quirks, just hand to hand combat." It was Bakugo's turn to laugh as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Why wouldn't I use my quirk?" She rolled her eyes and let her hands leave her hips and hang at her sides. "Because you can't always rely on your quirk. Every quirk has limits, and what if you come across a villain with a quirk like Aizawa's? You've got to be strong enough to fight without your quirk. So show me what you've got and fight me." Bakugo grinned widely and cracked his knuckles on each hand. "Alright, you're on." "Is this really a good idea?" Denki asked, a look of concern on his face. Karina nodded her head without taking her eyes off of Bakugo. "It's a great idea." Sero, Denki, and Kirishima all walked away and stood off to the side to watch the fight, just in case they felt like they needed to step in. Mina, Tsu, and Jiro who had been spying from the door were standing near the guys to support Karina. "Kick his ass Karina!" Mina shouted in encouragement. Karina rolled her neck as she stood across from Bakugo who was stretching. Once they were both ready, they stepped closer to each other until they were just a couple of feet away from each other. "You can still back down, you know." Bakugo spoke, using that same taunting tone that he had used before. Karina smirked back at him. "Cute. I was about to say the same thing to you." He scoffed at her before calling out to Kirishima. "Count it down Kiri!" Kirishima gulped and reluctantly counted down from five. "5.... 4.... 3.... 2..... 1!"

As soon as Kirishima said one, Bakugo was lunging at Karina. She had watched him train enough to know what was coming. She grabbed his outstretched arm that she knew he was going to swing at her first and she swung him around and let him go, sending him stumbling backwards. With a smirk on her face, she made a 'come at me' motion with her hands. Bakugo growled and ran at her again. This time, Karina blocked a few of his punches, but he finally managed to land a punch to her face. She stumbled slightly and everyone that was watching either gasped, winced, or made some kind of concerned sound. Kirishima and Mina both took a step forward, but Jiro held her arms out and kept them back. “You need to let them do this.” Bakugo stopped momentarily, wondering if that was all it was going to take, but Karina proved otherwise. She was quick to retaliate and her punch collided with his gut. She had hit him hard enough to make him hunch over and as he did, she grabbed the back of his head and thrust her knee upward to try and collide it with his face, but he grabbed her leg instead and used it to pull her legs out from under her and he slammed her down on the ground. To make sure she hit the ground hard enough, he went down with her and pinned her shoulders to the ground with his hands. The back of her head smacked the floor, but she ignored the pain and focused on him. She glared up at him and was quick to wrap her legs around his waist and throw her weight to the side, rolling them over so she was straddled on top of him. Before she could try and attack him, Bakugo punched her in the gut and took her momentary stun to throw her off of him. She rolled across the floor, but she managed to get to her feet while Bakugo did the same. She had the taste of copper in her mouth from the blood that came from his punch to her face, but she ignored it for the time being. She ran at him and he braced himself for her. She pulled her hand back, making it seem as if she was going to punch him, so he got ready to block her punches, but instead she went straight for his gut. She threw herself into him, thrusting her shoulder into his gut and knock the wind out of him. It worked for a moment, but then he hunched over her and wrapped his arms around her waist and with his grip on her, he tossed her to the side, but thankfully, she was able to land on her feet. He ran at her and threw a punch aimed at her face, but she caught his fist and then yanked him close, slamming her head into his. He stumbled back and she released him so that she could run at him, but she didn't expect him to recuperate as fast as he did. She had thrown a punch, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it and turned her around, pinning her arm behind her back while his other arm went around her neck tightly. She started to struggle to breath and ended up tapping his arm with her free hand.

Bakugo released her when he felt her tap his arm and she collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Everyone who had been watching started to rush over and Bakugo extended his hand out to Karina. She looked up at him and smiled slightly as she took his hand and pulled herself up. "Not bad, Red." Karina was thrown off guard slightly when he called her something other than ‘extra’, but it made her smile as she looked up at him. "You did pretty well yourself." She reached up and gently wiped away some blood that was coming from his nose from when she had head-butted him with her thumb and then wiped it on her pants. Bakugo wasn't expecting such a gentle action like that and it was clear from the look on his face, but that look was quickly replaced by a stoic one as everyone reached them. "That was so bad-ass! Where did you learn to fight like that?!" Mina exclaimed as she ran over to Karina. Everyone crowded them, complementing their fighting and showing their general shock and excitement for what had happened. It was pretty much decided by everyone that training was over for the night, so everyone started heading out of the gym and back towards the dorms. Karina grabbed her hoodie and as she walked outside, she smiled as she saw Sero waiting for her by the door. "You didn't have to wait for me." Sero smiled and shook his head as he walked beside her. "I don't mind. Besides, I just wanted to say that that was really cool. I've never really seen someone stand up to Bakugo like that before, aside from Midoriya. You're a really good fighter." Karina blushed lightly as she held her hoodie to her chest. "Thanks. That really means a lot to me." They walked to the dorms together until they parted ways to go to their separate rooms. However, as she was waiting for the elevator, she heard someone call her name. “Karina! Wait up!” She turned and saw Kirishima hurrying over to her with an icepack in his hand. “Here. I saw the way your head hit the floor during your fight and that’s definitely going to hurt, so I figured I’d bring you this. Hopefully it helps.” Karina smiled with a subtle blush as she took the icepack from him after he held it out to her. “Thanks Eijiro. That’s very sweet of you. I appreciate it.” “Anytime. I’ll see you in the morning.” Kiri gave her a toothy grin and then walked off. As Karina got on the elevator, she couldn’t help but smile and hold the icepack against the back of her head where it had hit the ground. Once Karina was in her room, she relaxed a bit and kept the icepack against her head for a little while. Before it got too late, she got undressed, threw on a bathrobe, and went to go take a shower in the common area bathrooms. As she was making her way to the bathrooms from the elevator, she spotted Bakugo walking towards the elevator. "Katsuki?" He looked over at her at the sound of his name and his entire face went red and he quickly looked away. "Why the hell aren't you wearing clothes?!" Karina looked down at herself and then back at him, rolling her eyes. "I'm wearing a robe! You can't see anything! Besides, this is the girls side of the building! What are you doing over here anyway? I figured you would have gone to bed by now." Bakugo sighed heavily and glanced over at her. "I was looking for you. I just wanted to say that... It maybe wouldn't be so bad if you trained with us." A look of shock came to Karina's face and then she smiled, walking a bit closer to him. "I'd like that, Katsuki. Thank you." Bakugo turned and started to walk away. "Yeah, yeah. Night." Karina giggled lightly as she watched him walk away. "Good night." She turned and walked the rest of the way to the bathrooms with a small smile on her face.

#mha oc #mha fanfic #mha #mha fanfiction #mha original character #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #eijiro kirishima #mina ashido #denki kaminari #hanta sero #katsuki bakugo #tsuyu asui #kyoka jiro #Karina #MoreThanAName #Fight Me

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