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hatake-no-sharingan · 4 years ago

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The Jinchuuriki (Minato x Reader)

Summary: Canon divergent AU. Danzo steals the two Uzumaki sisters from their village and seals the Kyuubi inside one of them. He separates them and keeps the Jinchuuriki captive in the Root headquarters. When she grows up alone, until the Hokage orders Danzo to have her trained to fight. Her new tutor arrives, and he’s nothing like she expected. He’s kind and he cares for her. His name is Minato.

Characters: Y/N (Female Reader as the Jinchuuriki), Minato, Danzo, and Kushina

A/N: To the lovely @itsao-mine for requesting and waiting so long, I apologize, you’re my most loyal reader. I hope you really do enjoy this, because it took me so long to write. I think it’s a warm story that you’ll like. To everyone else, I hope you love this story too. I apologize in advance for my incompetence in writing fight scenes. Remember requests are open. Enjoy and be kind <3

Word Count: 4,624

The Jinchuuriki

“From now on, you’re not sisters anymore” you didn’t understand what the man was saying. His face instilled a deep fear in you, as you imagined farfetched stories about how he got that ugly scar on his chin. His uncovered eye made you uneasy, and the covered one, even more.

You clutched Kushina’s hand tighter with your own small one, and looked at her in search of the reassurance that this man was lying.

You and your sister had been plucked from your home, your village, and everything you knew by this man and brought to the Leaf Village without any explanation about it. The only thing you knew was that something in your Uzumaki lineage made you the perfect vessel for a weapon that the Leaf Elders were desperate to keep and control. Your 8 year old brain didn’t fully grasp what this meant, but Kushina and you’d overheard that in a conversation two of the ANBU ninjas had on your way to your new village.

You noticed a streak of sadness cross your sister’s face and your stomach twisted inside you. The man, Danzo they called him, harshly grabbed both yours and your sister’s wrists and tore your hands apart. He handed each of you to a masked ninja, a rabbit and a bear, and you never saw each other again.

They put you through the worst nightmare you couldn’t even have imagined. They locked you up in a dark room, and when they finally let you see light, it was only to painfully seal a demon in you, using the techniques stolen from your family.

You felt the beast stir inside you at night. Now, alone, you cried yourself to sleep and imagined Kushina’s arms wrapped around you, her soft voice singing slightly off-key the lullaby your aunt had taught you, while the personification of hate growled from within your gut.

The first months were pure hell to you, you’d go on rampages and destroy everything in sight, using the beast’s chakra and your own rage. This earned you being put in a cell and chained with chakra suppressing metals. Then, it was just you and him. The Kyuubi became your only company, aside from the guard who slipped your food through the slot once a day who’d never even glanced at you.

The Kyuubi hated you and you hated him, however you soon discovered that you both hated Danzo and Root, the people who’d turned him into a weapon and you into a vessel, even more. The realization brought you two closer. Eventually, he saw himself in your pain and told you that as you were missing a sister, he was missing siblings too.

They’d also been turned into weapons, and you assumed, that wherever Kushina was, she was probably being used to meet this organization’s needs. Though a part of you still liked to imagine that while you were here, she was back home. Her skin soaking up the rays of the sun, her beautiful red hair flowing with the wind, as she ran across the village, to the place where you’d both built a tree house and told stories about other worlds you’d one day go to.

“Listen to me, child” the beast, no, Kurama, told you “I’m willing to lend you my power if you’ll use it carefully and wisely. Only if you promise me, swear to me, that you’ll use it to destroy those who wronged us” and with that, you sealed your fate.

After that day, you became the docile Jinchuuriki Danzo wanted you to be, and earned his trust.

One day, we are going to bite back and he won’t notice until it’s too late.

That was 13 years ago.

Danzo had brought someone who trained you as a medical ninja. You didn’t know their name, not even what their face looked like, it was always fully covered, and you knew they were holding back in their teachings. You helped your teacher heal the injured Root members who came back from missions, serving only as a minor assistant. They had only taught you how to do basic things like heal cuts faster or mend a broken bone, but they never let you learn any just that required a large amount of chakra usage. Still, you obeyed silently.

You were almost sure Danzo no longer saw you as a threat, and the many years that had passed since you last had a rampage, put him in a comfortable spot. However you were still surprised when he appeared in your room just before you were going to sleep and announced

“The Hokage and the elders are pressuring me by saying that it’s about time you learned to defend yourself, after all, you just turned 21 and you don’t know much about fighting. Tomorrow a ninja sent by them will be coming to start training you here on grounds. He’ll be staying here as long as it takes for you to be at least competent in deflecting a few attacks. However, this won’t be free for you. If you want to train, you’d better get information about Sarutobi from him, and pass it on to me. I can’t refuse their orders, but I can’t help it if you have some sort of accident that puts you in a temporary physical (idk the word for this)”

Your blood runs cold in your veins. You know he wasn’t joking, when he made a threat he went through with it. You just nodded and assured him that you’d try to get any information for him. He left as fast as he came, and spent the rest of the night imagining what your new tutor would be like.

Would they be as impersonal as your medical tutor? Without an identity? A name? Or would it be someone as scary as Danzo? That would make it hard for you to get the information you had to pass on to him. You couldn’t lose this chance to train. It was the moment you and Kurama had been waiting for.

When you enter the training room you expect so many things, except what you see. A cheerful smile meets your sight, bright yellow hair with the ability to light the whole room up, and a silky warm voice.

“You must be Y/N” he says “so pleased to meet you. I’m Minato and I’ll be tutoring you under the Hokage’s orders.”

You’re shocked to be met with such kindness. It’s been so long since someone spoke to you like you were an actual person, that you don’t really know what to say.

“Do you have any previous knowledge on controlling chakra or doing any sort of jutsu? I just want to know where to start so you feel comfortable.”

Again, you stay silent. Nobody has thought about your wellbeing in so long, and this stranger is worried about you feeling uncomfortable. He’s perceptive, so he notices your stiff posture and your nerves.

“Hey it’s okay, we don’t have to do much today. You can just walk around the room and play a bit with the equipment so you get used to it. I’ll just stay in a corner until you feel more comfortable in my presence.”

“No—“ you quickly say “walk around with me. Please. Show me how to be a Kunoichi.”

“Alright” he chuckles a bit. “Let me show you the ninja packs first.”

He reaches for one of them and proceeds to pull out a few weapons. He names all of them to you and lets you hold them.

Then he explains a few basic concepts on fighting and has you do some simple exercises to control chakra. Since you know medical ninjutsu, it’s easy for you, but at the end of the practice, you’re still tired.

The first training session gave you a feeling of intrigue, and you start looking forward to the rest. Each day, you start enjoying it more and you get better.

Minato is a patient and determined teacher, and he starts becoming the only friend you’ve had.

You two start joking around during the sessions, and time flies by while you’re with him.

He has you practice different concepts, and also train your body so you have more physical endurance.

When he sees you getting better, he starts challenging you to different competitions. Some test strength, others speed, and your favorite, strategical thinking, Minato almost always wins, but you’re satisfied to notice you’re getting better each time.

Once he challenges you to a race, and he takes you outside for it, but the middle of the way, you step on a rock and twist your ankle.

“Damn! Next time I’ll get ya! Yaknow??” You shout after him.

He comes back to scoop you up from the ground. You thought it was such a gentlemanly action, until you hear him let out a loud laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Nothing bad I swear” he chuckles again “It’s just, the way you talk. It reminds me of a good friend of mine. Actually you remind me a lot of her. She’s as feisty as you, and also very talented.”

He says as he carries you back.

“Kushina” you whisper. “She’s alive”

“What? You know her?” A single tear rolls down your cheek.

“I once knew her.” You say simply “Can you tell me more about her?”

His heart softens when he sees your pleading eyes.

“Sure, if you want me to. I don’t really know what to say though” he starts.

You arrive at your room and he settles you down on the bed.

“Is she happy?”

“I guess so. She’s a fighter. She used to get bullied, for her red hair” You remember how her soft strands felt in your fingers. All your childhood you’d envied her beautiful hair, now you longed to run your hands through it once more. You couldn’t believe people would make fun of her for such a beautiful trait. “She kicked all their asses though, and she made friends. True ones.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah”

He spent the whole evening telling you stories about your sister, making you laugh like you hadn’t done in so long. He brought you sweets he stole from the kitchen, as he went to pick up more ice for your ankle, and he stayed with you, to help you heal.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you got injured today, so we can still see each other tomorrow”

You smile and nod. If Danzo knew you couldn’t train, he’d bar you from your time with Minato. He already tried to reduce your training time too much, only because Minato insisted you needed more practice, arguing that it was harder for you to learn these things as an adult.

You rest for three days. Minato is more than happy to share more stories about your sister, and also some about his three young students he’s very attached to.

“Kakashi is full of sadness, but he has a huge heart. Obito is a bit clumsy, but he’s the full spirit of the team, he’ll do great things someday. Finally, Rin is the glue holding them together, she’s reliable and kind. You’d love them.” All this kept you wondering what life was like outside these quarters. Minato’s stories were full of magic, and they made you so happy. He tends to you perfectly and then in a flash, your ankle is as good as new. He starts training you again, and it becomes your favorite time of the day. You can feel your body get stronger each time. He lets you practice different types of jutsu and you’re happy to discover that while they’re challenging, it’s very rewarding to master them. The confidence between you and your tutor grows, as well as your own self confidence. Maybe your goal of fighting your captor is closer than you think.

“Why do they keep you here?” He asks puzzled after you finish taking down one of his shadow clones with the shuriken jutsu he taught you “Why didn’t you go to the academy, and instead waited until this age to learn how to fight? You’re clearly a natural, it would’ve helped so much if we could have gotten you on a shinobi team.”

“Minato, there’s something I need to tell you.” The words scrape your throat, but you gather the courage to spit them out anyway “I’m being kept here as a prisoner, ever since I was chosen as the nine tails jinchuuriki”

He furrows his brow, clearly not understanding what you just said. Fear crawls through your veins and you instantly regret saying that. He’ll stop seeing me the same way now.

“Kushina is the Jinchuuriki”

“No, that’s not possible, there’s only one Kurama, and it’s sealed inside me”

“Everyone in the village knows she’s the Jinchuuriki, Y/N, even the Hokage has acknowledged it” he says it with such certainty that you almost believe it for a minute. Maybe the beast inside you was imaginary all along, but then he goes pale. Pale as if he’d seen a ghost, no, worse, as if he’d just found an answer to this confusion.

“No, the Hokage is the one who ordered Danzo to keep me here.”

Minato pauses for a second

“Y/N, I need you to do something for me,” there’s not much you feel you can do but you nod once, waiting for his instruction “can you call the Kyuubi forth and let him speak to me?” “His name is Kurama, he doesn’t like being called Kyuubi” you snap, and then clasp a hand over your mouth as you realize how rude you’re being to the only person that you know who truly cares about you.

“It’s okay, I know it’s hard. Don’t worry about me” he smiles and warmth spreads in your chest “I’ll be kind to him”

You believe him, and Kurama does too, so you switch.

“Kid” he says simply

“So it’s true”

“It depends”

“On what?”

“On what you think is the truth”

“The truth is that Y/N is the real Jinchuuriki, and that Danzo lied to the Hokage and the whole village by telling them Kushina was your vessel. The fact here is that the Jinchuuriki out there is a lie, and he’s keeping the real one hidden”

“You’re a smart one, and yes, there’s truth among your words. The question is, are you going to stop Danzo before he turns us into a weapon with no self control? I can lend Y/N my power, but I can’t fight for her if she doesn’t make her body strong first. If she doesn’t learn how to properly control chakra, it’ll be for nothing”

Kurama switches with you again, and the worried expression in Minato’s face triggers something in you.

He explains everything to you. Root has been telling everyone including the Hokage your sister is the Jinchuuriki, while keeping you hidden here. Most likely Danzo has a plan to use you later to gain more power. The realization makes your stomach drop to your knees.

“I’m scared” you say.

“Shh as long as I’m with you, you’ll be okay. I’ll protect you. We’ll stop Danzo together, the only thing we need to do is make your body stronger, but it’ll be easy since you’re already naturally talented.”

You feel so confident because of him, that without thinking you press your lips against his. He’s startled for a second, but then he moves, responding to your body. With that kiss, you give yourself to him. His hands travel to your waist, holding you tight, telling you, you’re something he’s not willing to lose.

You tangle your hands in his hair, and he utters a soft groan in response. Encouraged, you deepen the kiss and press your warm body closer to his. Your tongues dance hot around one another, coordinating perfectly between longing and pleasure. You stroke his neck, then grasp the collar of his shirt. His hands start to travel under your shirt, sending an ecstatic feeling through your body. You moan, thrusting your hips forward, needing to feel his touch everywhere. But when he realizes what he’s doing, he breaks the kiss, leaving your mouth cold with his own mouth’s absence.

He presses his forehead against yours, and stares deeply into your eyes, seeing right through to your very soul. His eyes transport you to a place where nothing can touch you, where you feel safe.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Minato, I want you. I want this. Please.”

You see a golden spark in his eyes, and he smiles relieved, it’s clear he wants this as much as you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything”

You always thought being touched by someone would be scary, but now, standing with him here, desire overcomes you. Love, overcomes you. He is the person you want to spend every single moment of the day with, and give it all to. Something in you knows

“Promise me that if you feel unsafe, or it hurts, or you simply don’t want to do it anymore, you’ll tell me.”

How much he cares for you makes your heart melt, you nod, giving him the confirmation he needs, and this time it’s him who initiates the kiss. Just like that, in a small corner of the training room where nobody can see you and nobody can hear you, where it’s just you two, Minato makes your inexperienced, touch starved body, feel loved for the first time.

The month passes in a breeze. You keep training together, and gaining more control over your own body. Minato says that you’re learning at an extraordinary speed, but part of it, you owe it to Kurama. He’s been lending you chakra and helping you every step, and you feel the bond between you get stronger.

Aside from that, Minato has been feeling uneasy by the discovery on Danzo’s deception, however he couldn’t report anything until he knew more.

Spying on Danzo proved less difficult than he initially thought it would be. He knew Danzo felt confident here in his territory, and though he’d mistrusted him since he arrived on the Hokage’s orders, Danzo thought he was being smarter than Minato. That’s why he’d grown careless, and now as Minato was walking back to his quarters, he heard a subordinate address the man.

“Lord Danzo, I have disturbing news for you”

Minato walked closer to the room to hear better, effectively disguising himself against the wall.

“What is it this time? Can we deal with it?” Danzo replied.

“It’s the Jinchuuriki”

Minato’s heart stopped for a second at the mention of you.

“What in the world has that cursed girl done now?” he says with an annoyed sigh “She’s been more trouble than she’s worth”

His subordinate kept quiet, unsure if he should go on with the report.

“Well? Out with it” Danzo ordered, exasperated.

“She’s…” the subordinate trembles, in response to the rage he already feels coming “pregnant”

Minato’s brain goes blank, all that he can think of now is getting you and his unborn child out of here.

Danzo’s visible eye rages, but his demeanor remains calm.

“We just found out, during her routine check up.” The ninja explains.

“But how?” Danzo asks, more to himself than to the other person, after a few seconds it dawns on him “That damned Minato. It seems he’s not only training our weapon.”

The old man thinks for a bit, then says

“Bring the other girl. It’s about time we got rid of this one. After all she’s been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get everything ready to extract and seal the beast into the new vessel tonight. Oh and don’t tell Sarutobi anything. After all, he thinks the girl we have here is the back up. We’ll just say she died under mysterious circumstances, and turn the one he thinks is the Jinchuuriki into the actual Jinchuuriki. Nobody needs to know I’ve had the Kyuubi hidden here all along.”

Minato has no more time. He has to do something before they hurt you.

Stay calm, he tells himself. He takes a deep breath, and when his hands stop shaking, he teleports to your room, where you are already getting into bed.

“Minato?” You say at the sight of him “What are you doing here? If Danzo knows you’re here he’ll punish us both”

“Y/N, we don’t have much time, you’re in danger”

“What? What do you mean? Why?”

“Do you feel different somehow? Physically I mean”

“Well, I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I’ve been more tired than usual, and I’ve had a bit of nausea, but it’s because of the strain my body’s been through with the training, right? It happens to everybody. Plus I just had my regular check up with the other medical ninjas and they said I was fine.”

“Y/N, I really hate to tell you the news this way, because it should be something happy, but, I just overheard Danzo and another shinobi talking. You’re pregnant.”

Your body feels numb, and the whole world starts spinning around you.

“I’m what?” You whisper. Tears have started flowing and you place your hands on your belly. The only thing you can feel now is fear, for the little life growing inside of you, product of the deep love Minato and you feel for each other.

“Hey beautiful, be happy.” He reaches out and wipes the tears from your cheeks “We’re going to raise this child together, I promise, we’ll get married and Kushina can be your bridesmaid. You’ll be together again. I’m going to get you both out of here now, but we need to act fast.”

You don’t spare another moment, you trust him completely, so you’re willing to do anything he tells you. You look at him determined.

“I trust you. Let’s do it, but let me fight too, I know I’m strong enough now.”

“But the baby”

This time it’s Kurama who answers

“Will be fine. I’ll make a shield of chakra and he’ll be protected. Both Y/N and him.” Minato thanks him, and you also feel grateful towards the creature who’s been living inside you for so long. You can’t believe how close you’ve grown to him, he’s not a weapon and you won’t let Danzo turn him into one.

You take Minato’s hand and he teleports the two of you to the entrance of the Root Headquarters.

Danzo and a dozen of his Root subordinates are already there waiting for you.

“I knew you’d try to steal my tailed beast once you found out I had it here. I just didn’t know you’d put a brat in his vessel. You’re a quick one, Yellow Flash” Danzo mocks Minato. “However, you can’t teleport your way out of here. You know my barrier blocks all of your markers outside of it.”

Minato’s grip on your hand tightens, but you see he’s still calm, not playing into Danzo’s game.

“I’m sorry, but you won’t be taking my best weapon tonight. The new vessel is already on her way, and by the time she arrives, this one and your unborn kid will be dead. Seize them and start the extraction of the beast.” He orders his fighters.

A dozen of the most skilled, battle seasoned ninja charge towards you and though you thought you’d be ready for this, you find yourself frozen.

A glance from Minato, however, gives you all the courage you need.

“I know you can do it. Just remember what we did during training. I’ve got your back.”

So, the fighting starts.

Minato moves gracefully, only aiming to injure, not to kill. Preserving his rage only for Danzo. In just a few minutes, he manages to disable 4 enemies, giving you two the advantage.

You’re less agile than him, which is understandable, due to your inexperience, but Kurama’s strength makes up for it. You only manage to fight off one enemy, using the jutsu Minato taught you, realizing just how effective it is and feeling proud of yourself for being able to defend the attacks.

While you’re fighting his ninja, Danzo is only watching from afar. It seems his confidence diminishes with each shinobi that is taken down by you, but it’s not enough to wipe the smug smile from his face.

With trouble, you take on two more enemies, barely getting by. You wipe a little blood from your face, and reach instinctively towards your stomach, as if the gesture could reassure the baby everything would be alright.

Minato, already finished with the other Root agents, charges towards Danzo and engages in a fight with him.

The old man is more skilled than you’d imagined. Their bodies move at a fast speed, and you can barely keep up with what’s happening. The fight is too confusing for you to follow, but at some point you’re able to notice that Minato has a slight advantage. Younger, faster, and more skilled, the man you love is giving everything to protect his family against the man who would kill you.

Suddenly there’s a flash of red, and you can’t tell whose blood it is.

Your heart stops.

Minato is on the ground, pale and bleeding from a large cut on his back.

“Y/N stay away!” He shouts

You don’t understand how Danzo managed to hurt him this way, but you don’t care.

You call Kurama, and feel his power rushing through you.

Your mind goes blank with anger, and hot chakra seeps out of you, transforming you into a small version of the Kyuubi.

Then you attack Danzo with all your might.

It’s over in a few seconds. His body is barely recognizable after you’re finished with him.

You go back to being yourself, kurama’s power retreating into you.

Your body feels heavy and then you lose consciousness.

When you open your eyes again, there’s a bright light in your face. You rub your eyes and try to adjust.

“Minato?”

“He’s alive, Y/N” a familiar voice says “Thankfully you three are alive. Nobody can hurt you anymore”

“Kushina” you say as her soft hand reaches rub your belly “I’ve missed you so much”

“And I’ve missed you, little sister” she replies “There’s so much I have to tell you and so much you have to tell me, but all in due time. The good thing is you’re awake now and in good hands. We’re in the Konoha hospital, there’s only kind people here”

You can see her face now. She’s grown to become so beautiful, and you experience a type of peace you haven’t felt in so long.

“Minato is already in rehabilitation, he’s very strong, yaknow? That’s why the baby you’re carrying survived, must be his Namikaze genes combined with your Uzumaki ones”

“Kushina, I’d like you to be the baby’s godmother. I want us to be a family again”

She grips your hand tighter in response and nods happily

“Of course we will be”

Days later, when you’re finally out of the hospital, Minato and you get married in a small ceremony. Only his closest friends, his three students –Kakashi, Obito and Rin– and your sister are present, but that is all you need. You wear a simple dress that Kushina helped you embroider with a beautiful flowery pattern. You let your hair loose, and put a single white orchid close to your left ear. It’s the happiest day of your life. Minato looks dashing as ever, and he receives you with that wonderful smile of his, ready to join his life to yours forever.

8 months later, you both welcome your son. You decide to name him Naruto.

#naruto #naruto fic #naruto imagines #minato #minato namikaze #minato headcanons #minato fluff #minato x reader #minato x y/n #minato oneshot #minato fanfic

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

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From the ground up.

The road to recovery is a bumpy one, but Tim’s (reluctantly) ready for the drive. He just hopes they won’t crash and burn.

-.-.-

Tim recovers after an injury. Mending his bonds with the bats its a plus.

Or, Tim can’t exactly run away from a conversation, and they all take advantage of it.

( @animemangasoul asked for Tim actually needing his crutches. Of course my dumb ass brain needed to take that idea and make a whole, emotional thing of it. Threw in some family bonding cause why not.

Babe I did my best, and if it’s bad I’m blaming exams and life stress of me being unable to properly deliver what you hoped for)

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

It had been a stupid decision. Self sacrificing, reckless, idiotic. He doesn’t know Bruce’s disappointed eyes, Dick’s worried ones or Damian’s disdainful sneer to know it.

Still, it had been his choice, and he’s going to stand by it. Even if it means having Steph pose as Red Robin for some time. Even if he has to deal with M’gann’s guilty looks at failing to convince him to change places, to allow her to get shot while he took the criminal out, instead of what they actually did. Even if it means getting annoyed, nearly hysterical texts from basically everyone he knows, condemning him for his stupidity.

The only ones he had explained himself to were Tam -who honestly deserves it after all the shit he was going to put her through, dealing with her recent trauma (courtesy of assassins) and the press going haywire at Tim’s broken engagement and then almost fatal injury-, Steph (who was going to be changing between Batgirl and Red Robin for some time to keep the whole charade up and Vale off their track) and M’gann herself, who had needed some serious explanation before she conceded to Tim getting shot in front of her for appearances sake.

The rest of the world? They could rot in curiosity, for all he cared. Bruce had probably extrapolated enough from his succinct explanation about Vicky to understand the whole plan. Dick was probably dying to know, but with their relationship strained as it was wouldn't dare to ask. Damian… who know how the devil’s mind works. Alfred was already used to the Bat’s collective shit, and would probably just sigh and make chicken soup for him.

What he wasn’t cool about was being forced to have his recovery period in the Manor. He had a perfectly funcional place for himself, thank you very much, and could wobble around in his crutches from bedroom to kitchen to his small, personal cave, no problem. But Bruce had been unmoving in his decision, going as far to physically carry Tim in his arms, like a toddler, from the hospital steps to the car. It had been humiliating, but he couldn't exactly wiggle free in front of all the reporters, could he? How to explain a nerve strike to his dad, and his own ability to withstand the pain of falling back to his feet?

(Because he totally could stand the pain. He had done it in the dessert with a ruptured spleen, he could deal with a slightly damaged spine)

He was going to have his revenge though. As soon as he was able to move freely without clenching his teeth from the pain.

He’s being deposited on the bed, when he notices Damian lingering around the door. He was looking at Bruce, a little unsure, more than a bit of envy at the care which his father bestowed on Tim. Before, those jealous eyes would have made him weary of an attack. Now, with Bruce and Dick having forced a promise of civility from the kid, he was still on guard but not ready to flee at any given second. Perpetually tensing would only dampen his recovery, after all.

It was still something to think of. The lack of fire in his eyes. He… looked like a kid. Not as much a demon as he had been when Tim went away.

Well. Only time would tell if he had truly changed.

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

Bruce had ordered bed rest. No work, detective or CEO. Nothing more straining (for the mind or body) than watching a movie. Eating and sleeping were his only allowed activities. Even reading was to be moderated, because Tim was known to lose himself in any topic that caught his fancy and forget everything else.

Tim had listened to his reasoning, nodding along and adding his own helpful insight, smiling when his head was patted in response to his obedience. Waved cheerfully as Bruce left, made smalltalk with Dick when he visited hi room before heading out for patrol (theirs was a talk that he wasn’t really looking forward but knew he wouldn't be escaping for long), thanked Alfred for the food and ate half of it under his watchful eye. Even took the medicine with just mild complains.

The perfect picture of innocence and submission. Right until the butler went to the Cave to man the comms.

Then all bets were off.

Moving his bed out of the way to get the laptop hidden below the loose tile under it was impossible in his current condition, but thankfully he had been able to talk Bruce into letting him keep his phone, and his briefcase wasn’t too far to not be able to make the walk without crutches (painful as it was).

Before an hour had passed, he had the wall by his bed covered with post it notes, connected by red sting and pins here and there. A pretty evidence board, even with the lacking resources. Perrrfect for a little Tim-Time, a small bit of detective work.

Bruce would certainly bitch about him moving around so much, taping pieces of information or moving the string around, but, well. What Bruce didn’t knew…

-I thought Father ordered bed rest.

The voice, completely unexpected (he had either been in too deep thought, or the brat was getting better at stealth), made him jump so high and sudden he almost pulled his stitches. The medication, fading with each hour, had weaned enough he felt every bit of tissue, still torn from the shot, straining under the move.

It resulted in the longest, filthiest string of curses his sharp mind could come up with, partnered with gasps and a lot of hair pulling in a instinctual attempt to redirect the pain from his torso to somewhere less dire.

-No one taught you to knock and not to startle convalescent people, brat? -he spats between clenched teeth, squinting through barely-opened eyes to glare at him- And why aren’t you patrolling?

The kid was on pijamas. Tim can’t remember the last time he saw him unarmed. Though he probably still had at least a dagger on himself that he couldn't see.

Bruce and Dick’s promise echoed in his mind, but just in case, he let one of his arms go around his middle, acting as if trying to soothe his hurt (okay, maybe it wasn’t all an act) while he palmed the three Red Robin pallets he had secured between his bandages earlier.

Damian scoffed and approached him, careful to keep a healthy distance but enough so he could properly appreciate Tim’s wall.

-Apparently, Father knows better than to trust you to behave, and he came up with a schedule to keep an eye on you. For what reason, it escapes me. Your death could only serve as a stress relief for everyone, specially if it was caused by your own stupidity. And you didn’t answer my question.

A large part of him wanted to tell him to fuck off. An even larger reminded him he was barely armed, heavily incapacitated, and that Damian had actually answered him first, so, technically, it was fair to do the same.

He sighs and leans back into the pillows, shoulder on the wall crumpling the photo of his number three suspect.

-Whatever. Bruce clearly bought when I said I’d act the part, otherwise he would have cleaned my room of anything useful. You’re probably here because paranoia is too deeply ingrained in the man, or he thinks you could use a rest too. Or both.

Probably both, Tim thinks. He’s ready for Damian’s sneer and a declaration that he ‘didn’t need a rest’, most likely paired with an insult.

Instead, Damian surprises him by tilting his head and looking at him with something akin to curiosity.

-You lied to Father? And he… believed you?

Feeling his petty bitch inside stirring, he smirked- What, like it’s hard?

It actually was, it required a hell of a mental preparation and careful planning. But once you learned how to pull it off and took care to polish it, it was a often used weapon.

Damian wouldn't let any positive emotion towards Tim willingly show on his face, so the amaze was most likely honest. It was… a little humbling, truth be told.

-Tell you what -he decides, pulling his best negotiator voice, to cut the kid some slack-, you keep this little naughtiness -a nod towards the wall- between us and help me hide all proof before B comes back, and I give you some pointers in how to lie to Batman.

Damian seems truly torn. On one hand, Tim can guess, it's the mission his father entrusted him, and his deeply ingrained disdain to anything Tim proposed. On the other, the temptation of such a useful tactic, and the fact that he didn’t really care for Tim’s wellbeing enough to stop him from doing his thing.

-What are you working on?- he asked, likely gaining time while he mulled his options.

-Cold cases -a shrug-. It’s just a pastime of mine. I dig into Bruce’s old files, search for anything he couldn't solve, and work on it until I do. It’s really good for self esteem, and it helps a lot of people who never got closure for whatever it happened to them.

-Father will know you disobeyed if you solve it.

-I’ll wait until he gives me permission for some light work, and then dump all my worked out cases on him at the same time.

There’s something akin to wonder fighting to make itself known above Damian’s facade of indifference.

-Can you actually solve something Father himself couldn't?

-Done it before, will do it again. What will it be, Damian? Cause if you decide to snitch on me after all, then kindly leave me to this until then. I’m about to crack this, and if its going to be the last one I’m able to work on, I’d hate to leave it halfway.

A few seconds go by, before Damian takes the last step and carefully perches at the end of the bed, eyes solely on the wall.

-I’d prefer to aid in solving this. If it’s true this is something not even the Batman could do… it’d be highly rewarding to work on it. You can teach me the arts of lying another day.

Shocked it actually worked, Tim did his best to swiftly recover. Not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth, he kept his doubts in check to dwell on them later and went back to his wall.

Having Damian around was surprisingly useful. He could just lay there, in his pillows, and direct the brat through moving the string and adding post it notes here and there, until the whole thing mapped out in front of them, the answer staring at them as clear as the quickly approaching day.

Satisfaction strong enough to smile despite the ever growing pain in his side, he gave into the urge to give a small pat to Damian’s shoulder before telling him to help take it all down, least Bruce came from patrol and found them on the act. High on the success and more than a little stunned about it, the younger vigilante actually complied, even going as far as to put all their mess back in Tim’s briefcase and bringing him a glass of water to wash down his meds with.

When Batman came to check on his middle son after patro, Nightwing on his shadow, they were regaled with the shocking, unbelievable sight of Damian sleeping, sitting on the ground with the back of his head resting on Tim’s bed, while the bedridden boy himself snored, a hand on top of the smaller kid’s head.

The picture Dick took of them was gonna be his most treasured possession forever.

-.-.-.-.-

-And this will make me a better detective? -questioned Damian, frown scrunching his nose in a way that Tim couldn't help but think of as adorable. Or as adorable as it could be, in a hell spawn. Fuck, Dick was rubbing off on him.

-It helped me -he shrugs, eyes on his own screen as he makes the proper adjustments-. Long live the queen is a good place to start. You need to consider both the character’s mood when selecting the week’s classes, and the goal you aspire towards. All the while dodging assassinations attempts, commoners uprisings or noble plots depending on the choices you make, and… other stuff. And ruling a country. And getting engaged. It’s a lot of juggling, keeping in mind which skills you need for which event, and it forces you to consider how the character is doing emotionally, something you could seriously use to learn. Want me to give you a run through?

-No need -he scoffed, clicking in the start game option, dubiously reading the introduction-. It seems easy enough.

Tim just smiled, eerie, from his place behind him.

Damian was sitting in the floor by his bed, back resting against it. The position, if slightly uncomfortable (Drake wasn’t an enemy any longer, if Grayson was to be believed, and after the other night’s joint work he agreed to help train Damian in mind schemes, but he wasn’t a complete ally either… and having such a grey person with such a clear shot at his neck made the assassin in him nervous), was the best way for Drake to watch his progress in this… game, while keeping his wound unbothered. It also kept Damian from ‘sneaking a peek’ at his own screen and ‘cheating at the game’, as he had said. Not that he planned on it, but-- well, all resources, no matter how dirty, were still fair game in the arts of war, as far as he was concerned.

Not that Damian needed the help. This was a silly game. He would probably beat this first try, high score even. Really, the main screen image had a teenager dressed in a frilly, pink, magical girl outfit. How hard could this be?

---

-My cousin just got bitten by a snake. Will she die?

-Wouldn’t you like to know, demon child. You’ll figure it out later in the game. Just keep going.

---

-Why do I keep failing this skill-checks? What am I missing? Is it even relevant? I just passed one that was completely useless about world history, but somehow missed the one that would have helped me keep this stupid girl from getting betrothed.

-If it was relevant, you’ll know it when, not if, when it kills you.

-...I should save my game here.

-With these shitty skills you’ve built? Sure, if you want to, but at this point you’ll die no matter what.

---

-Is this woman trustworthy? Our father said it was her fault mother died, but she said…

-Hmm. I’m not giving you spoilers. Tell me when you figure it out, one way or the other.

-Well, at least we have our aunt, uncle and cousins. Surely they are on our side, as our family.

-...

-Drake, why are you laughing?

-...

-Stop it! You are not scaring me!

---

-Look, I said I was not going to help you… but you can’t keep pissing everyone off, baby bat. You’ll never survive until coronation if you do.

-Those people deserved to get executed.

-...some of them, maybe, but you failed a lot of skill checks there, so you don’t have all the facts. Also, if you are gonna fuck with people, at least choose if you are doing it with nobles or peasants. Both of them is taking it a bit too far.

-I am the Queen. Neither would dare oppose me. I will have their heads if they do!

-..okay then. Let the record say I tried.

---

-Is this birthday party important?

-Uhm… Kinda. Your friend just turned of age, which means she gets to inherit control of her lands. There’s also a whole new route if you do go to the party, if you have the necessary abilities for it.

Tim saw the back of Damian’s head bob as he nodded. He gave it a few minutes. Then-

-YOU DIDN’T TELL ME I WOULD DIE ON MY WAY THERE!

-I did say you needed specific skills. Both for the party itself, and to get there.

He was ready for the unholy sound that escaped from Damian’s mouth, finger quickly taping at his phone to record it. That treasure was going to be his new ringtone. It would help with the pain, too. Happiness therapy or something like that, to distract the mind from the hurt.

---

-Hey, Dami? I’m gonna go get ready for patrol. Are you com/?

-NO -he snapped, neck almost breaking from how quickly he raised his head to look at Dick at the door. Eyes red from staring at the screen for so long, hair a mess after messing it up in incalculable desperation- I’m about to win! This time, my strategy won’t fail!

Tim, game already finished and now watching a movie (at least until Bruce and Dick left and he could go back to coding a new security system that even Babs wouldn't be able to crack) tilted his head, examining his brother’s open game. Week 30, no medicine knowledge, no intrigue, little to no dog training, no composure and not enough divination...yeah, Damian was gonna die again. It was the first time he had lived long enough to reach the tournament, and subsequently, the poisoned chocolates.

Should he tell Damian? On one hand, the frustration, clear in his face, would tear him apart after yet another failure. But… this was the most fun he had in a long time, and the longest they had gone without either insulting the other.

-Okay then -mumbled Dick under his breath, smartly retreating out of the room.

Tim waited a few beats- Let me know if you need help.

-Leave me alone Drake! As if I’d lower myself to such tricks! The victory won’t be truly mine unless I win by my own merits!

Still at the door, feeling both a little ignored and elated at his brothers getting along so nicely, Dick decided to slowly exit the place, least Damian truly snapped and threw a dagger or something at his head.

---

The downside of the pain meds was how drowsy they made him. He didn’t know quite what to do with himself, now that the bags under his eyes were so close to disappearing. He had come so used to them… maybe he’d need to start investing in eyeliner and fake them.

Blinking himself awake, he moved a bit to look at the clock on his bedside table and immediately flinched. He kept forgetting the wound, and then moved and was painfully reminded.

A hand appeared out of nowhere, holding a familiar pill. He took it without prompting, accepting then the glass of water.

-Don’t think too much of this, Drake. I’m merely assisting Pennyworth. Since I’m already here working on my progress, I offered to make sure you don’t forgo your medicine. Again.

The disdainful voice, probably masking the smallest shadow of care, had come familiar enough in the last couple of days that he knew even without opening his eyes who it was. The question of what the hell was he still doing here, after spending the entire day at Tim’s side, remained.

-Damian? Are you still playing?

The kid seemed uncomfortable.

-The idiotic Queen wouldn't stop dying. It’s against my every principle to give up before achieving my goal, so I had to stay here until I passed this… training of yours.

Tim had to bit his check to keep from smiling. Damian was kinda decent at it, but the boy who lied to Batman wasn’t so easily fooled by a half assed attempt. The brat had actually stayed so he could make sure Tim didn’t forget his pain meds and woke the whole manor up with his groans later.

-Well, as your teacher for this particular test, I’m telling you to call it a day. Go to sleep and come back tomorrow with fresh mind and eyes.

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

Rehab… sucked. There was no way around it. Sure, he could go the nice, easy way, give himself enough time to heal before starting on the recovery path. But vigilantes didn’t have the luxury of nice, and he needed to be functional again asap. Steph was running herself ragged, working on keeping Tim’s identity on the streets alive and her own territory safe, and there was a limit on how much Tam could take over in WE before collapsing.

Bruce hadn’t been happy about his decision of starting physical therapy while his stitches were still there, but when was he, ever? And the doctors had said he could do it as long as he was careful about it, now that the swelling in his back had disappeared, so he couldn't use them as counterpoints. There was also the nice plus of being emancipated, which made his medical decisions his own, and not even Bruce could just breeze by and ignore them.

Sweet, sweet independence.

Too bad he forgot a tiny detail: how fucking painful it was.

He could move around now, using the crutches, and he had a series of exercises his doc gave him to help regain movement, which he followed like religious doctrine. Two reps before lunch, one before bed. Okay, the physical therapist had said only do one per day, but he couldn't take into account Tim’s vigilante resistance and strength, so he felt safe in his small expansion of the activities.

That was, until the sharp pain on his side made him lose balance during his last rep and trip over his crutches.

A strong arm around his upper chest stopped his fall to the ground, and took the air off his lungs. It didn’t touch his wound, though, which… nice.

-If you're falling jus’ from walking, maybe you're not as ‘recovered’ as I heard.

-Ja...son -he coughs, hand (with the crutch secured to him by nice straps, courtesy of WE’s medical division) raising up to hold Jason’s arm for support. The other man shifted, coming closer, shouldering his weight without a word, his other hand going around his waist, under the wound, to help him along- This… but a scratch.

-Quoting “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” at me won’t keep you out of trouble, little shit. C’mon, I’ll take you back to your room. Which way?

Pointing him in the right direction, Tim took advantage of their closeness to examine the other man.

They weren’t on ‘kill on sight’ terms any longer, but Tim wouldn’t exactly call the man when in a pinch. What was he even doing here? He was fairly sure he and Brucer were still at that ‘mindless anger/deeply rooted guilt’ stage of their relationship, and his book club meetings with Alfred were wednesday afternoons, not friday evenings…

-Stop thinking so much, you’ll strain som’ing.

-I’m not Dick -he fires back almost in instinct, earning a deep chuckle in turn. He shifts a little, looking for a position where his trembling arms wouldn't make the crutches shake quiet so much. If Jason saw his struggle, he respected him enough to say shit about it.

-Speaking of, how’s it going with him?

-I have no idea what you’re talking about. We are fine.

-Yeah, right. And he’s sitting out of helping you with rehab because he suddenly lost one of his hundred hearts and it’s just your luck it was the one he had for you?

-Fuck… -a misstep, and his arms automatically shift to compensate, keeping him standing but paying it in pain when the movement tugs at his side. Jason tightens his grip, an unvoiced promise to keep it from happening again- you.

-Really threatening, with all the gasping and whining.

-Shut up. Why would we be at odds?

There’s a minute of silence as one of Jason’s hands leave him long enough to open the door to his bedroom.

-I’m jus’ saying -he shrugs as he helps Tim inside and towards his bed-, I know a discarded Robin when I see one.

He’s not sure if the pained sound comes from the jostling as he’s carefully lowered into his pillows, or the strike to his most exposed nerve.

-It was… a tough situation. Dick didn’t have much choice. I -it hurts to say- I get it.

It had also been right, by Damian. Tim can see it, in the remarkably diminished killer intent he could feel from the kid, and his actual willingness at keeping Tim company and even helping him around when needed.

Even if it was the worst for him, at least one of the two fucked up kids under Dick’s watch had benefited from it. It was… it was good enough. It had to be. Tim was fine, after all.

Jason looks at him for a moment, waiting until the pain yields a bit and he can breath again. Then, taking a seat by his feet, he lets his eyes stray to the photographs mounted on the walls, avoiding Tim’s scrutinizing gaze.

-Even if it makes logical sense, it still hurts. I know how it is.

There’s… not really something he can counter. He moves a bit to find position easier on his side, hiding the nervous twitch with the action.

-I never blamed you for it -he feels compelled to add. Jason winces, as if struck. He’s still not looking at him.

-And the brat’ll probably be the same with you, someday. Means shit now, but… small comforts.

-I guess so… I mean, we’re kinda getting along, now that he can’t try to kill me since I’m convalescente and I’m bored enough to contribute to his training.

Jason seems pained again. Tim is annoyed by how confusing this entire situation is.

-Y’er a good predecessor. He’ll/

-What is this all about? -he cuts, unable to stop himself. This attempt at deep conversation is well and good, but it’s coming out of nowhere and Tim never pictured Jason as one to go around randomly offering wisdom- Why are you here, and with me of all people?

There was a shadow of something passing through his face, before it transformed into the physical intonation of the ‘Fair enough’ feeling.

-I heard what happened from blondie while she was takin’ care of soom goons on y’er part of town. And… well, I have some experience on getting back on your feet after a bad injury, just in the wake of loosing Robin. Figured you’d be over doing it and getting yourself hurt worse.

It… was a fair assessment of what he was doing, actually. And if there was anyone he could speak about this… it’d be Jason.

-There’s so much I have to do -he sighs, sagging into his bed, relaxing for the first time when in a room with his childhood idol-, and Steph can’t keep running all my cases for me. I keep solving them, but I need groundwork done and she has already so much on her plate by patrolling my side of town, I just… I can’t let people die because I couldn't spy on an arms deal and tore it apart before the guns made their way to the streets.

Jason looked at him again, his emotions in check, and he seemed to think about it for a minute, before humming.

-What about this? You take it slow and easy with the physical therapy, and I help with that stuff. My territory is somewhat in order, or as much as you can have it in this hellhole of a city, so I have plenty of free time, and… I could use the atonement. After, you know, trying to kill you so many times.

It…was unexpected. Jason, helping him? In exchange of Tim’s wellbeing? It seemed absurd beyond belief, but there was no mistaking the earnestness on his face.

And, well, fuck it. Tim was somehow on speaking terms with one of his formers almost-assassins, what was one more?

...it would also be so worth it, once Dick knew. Tim could already picture his jealousy, seeing the two brothers he was at odds or uncomfortable with, speaking at each other and working together.

And having Jason at his side would keep Bruce from checking on him so often. Two birds, one crowbar.

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

This was shaping up to be the strangest week of his life. Had he entered the twilight zone?

He had gotten kinda used to Damian popping into his room before patrol, or during the nights B forced him to stay at home. He’d work Damian through one of the easiest cold cases, or aid him in his never ending game of Long Live the Queen (he was getting really close to a happy ending, though). In exchange, the kid would keep his work a secret, and help him move around if the pain was too strong, or if he wanted a glass of water and didn’t feel like getting his crutches out for the small trip to the bathroom.

Also, it was somewhat normal to have Jason swing by (morning or mid afternoon, while the vigilantes of the manor slept off their patrol), some case files in hand, informing him about a new development in whatever Tim had asked him to research. Alfred, highly approving of their newfound camaraderie, would insist Jason stayed for tea, and the three of them would dwell into a very satisfying bitch fest, with Bruce as their source material.

What he wasn’t ready for, was having both of them around at the same time.

-Drake, you need to stop lazing around and do your exercises! Father and the doctors said…!

-Chill out, Demon, he did ‘em already. Shouldn't be doin more reps than the doc said, y’know?

Acting like his nurses.

-And how do I know you’re not lying to me, Todd? Hurting Timothy could only benefit you!

-...In literally which way? He’s the ONE brother I like! And like you are any better, Mr slashed zip line.

-Who told you about/? No matter. That was before we became allies. You, on the other hand!

Had he stumbled into a different universe? It wouldn't be the first time. Just in case, he sent Bart, his time/multiverse travel expert, a quick text.

-Hey guys, what’s all this noise abou/ Damian! Drop the knife!

Oh yeah. Just what Tim needed; the awkwardness that seemed to appear whenever he and Dick were in a room together. Maybe it was time to book it back to his room.

-Grayson! Give it back, I need to/!

-Disembowel Jay? I don’t think so.

-Fuck off Dickiebird, I don’t need your protection.

Decision made, Tim slowly moved his crutches, walking backwards without taking his eyes from the three vigilantes. If he was really, really quiet...

-I know, just/ Wait. Is that a gun?

-Well, it’s not like I’m happy to see yar ugly face.

-Excuse you?!... Here, Dami. You can have it back.

-FUCK!

-DIE!

-TIM!

The last scream came from Dick, who looked in his direction just in time to catch the moment Tim’s crutch slipped in the carpet. As it was, he was the only one who could react fast enough to prevent a painful, possibly very bad for his injury fall.

It also meant Tim was being cradled like a baby. Which- no.

The other two fell silent for long minute, while their minds caught up to Tim’s almost accident. Then, apparently seeing him safe in Dick’s arms, they turned to fight again. Apparently, blaming the other for Tim’s misfortune. Which… okay maybe he’d been distracted watching them go at it when he tripped, but still!

-I’ll just… take him upstairs -informed them Dick, though it sounded almost like a question. Probably wondering their ability to keep the discussion verbal.

Used to the nagging, both of them raised their hands, showing them empty (which, truly, meant little in the face of two of the most weapon-inclined people he knew), without pausing their rapidly escalating exchange.

Halfway up the stairs, he stopped wallowing in self pity about his still recovering body to remember that, for the first time in a helluva long time, he’d be alone with Dick. Which translated in Talk Time. Fuck.

By the time they reached his door, he had ready no less than six deflections and twenty conversation topics which avoided mention of all their baggage and could potentially satisfy Dick’s need for socializing with a brother.

-Wipe that look off your face, Baby Bird. You won’t be orchestrating this chat -the older hero informed him, casually as one can be, kicking the door closed behind him and softly lowering Tim on his bed. He was having serious Deja Vu’s from his first encounter with Jason-. We are going to sit in your room. We are going to hear each other out. I’m going to apologize for hurting you and give you insight on the why I acted the way I did. You’ll decide whether or not you’re ready for forgiving me. We’ll bond. Maybe cry. There’ll definetly be hugs involved -that shouldn’t sound like a threat, why did it sound like a threat, Tim felt threatened-, that’s non negotiable, don’t even try to put the ‘tender wounds’ card on me ‘cause I won’t buy it. And…

Dick’s stern voice wavered, arms still around Tim shoulders even when it was clear he didn’t need his support to sit in the bed.

-And we’ll be brothers again.

The tiny, broken sound mid-sentence was what got Tim.

Hand a little shaky, scared for his own heart but unwilling to let the older boy (his hero and family for so long) keep hurting, he touched Dick’s cheek and smiled. Tentatively, because they were on unstable ground here, but hopeful, because god did he miss his brother.

-We never stopped being that, idiot.

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

It was after dinner, when Bruce approached him in silence. Tim had been making his slow but steady way to the den, where Dick had roped them all into watching a movie together. He could hear the sounds of Jason and Damian roughosing (okay, Jason was; the brat probably believed the whole affair to be a fight to the death for honor or something like that) and Dick’s chirpy voice as he ranted about The Greatest Showman from the hall.

Bruce had been making the trip by his side, hand hovering close to Tim’s elbow, in case the crutches failed him or he tripped. Tim wanted to tell him it wouldn't happen, but… he’d missed his dad’s attention a little too much to complain about independency now.

-How’s the recovery going, son?

He stopped in the door leading to where his brothers waited, turning to face Bruce with an arched eyebrow.

-You know that better than me, Mr I’ve broken every bone in my body at some point. Also I’m dead sure you hacked my medical files and know every little detail my physical therapist wrote by heart. You can probably recite them to me verbatim.

-I didn’t mean the physical recovery. The shot in your side is not the only wound you’re carrying right now

Silence, the only noise coming from inside the room and Tim’s heavy breathing. Unable to refrain himself, he risks a glance at the tangle of limbs rolling around in the carpet (Dick’s tactic to stop the fight was to hug them into submission) and lets the tentative, frail smile tug at his lips.

-Honestly, B… That one is healing nicely. There’ll be scars but… That’ proof of what we overcame. Right?

Bruce’s smile looked kinda uncomfortable in that stony face of his, but warm all the same. His hand left Tim’s arm to tussle his hair a bit, careful to not unbalance him.

-When did you became the wisest of my children?

A crash came from inside the room, startling them both.

-TODD YOU…!

-DAMIAN NO! JASON PUT DOWN THE CHAIR! DON’T MAKE ME CALL ALFRED!

-C’ME AT ME, MIDGET!

-ALFIEEEE!!!

-Bruce…

-Yes?

-I’m the only wise child you have.

#My writing #tim drake #red robin #Batfamily Fanfic #batfamily #jason todd #red hood #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #recovery #tw: injury #family bonding #gift to babe

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calisotadreamin · 5 years ago

Text

PKNA Issue #1 Shadows on Venus.

Script and plot: Francesco Artibani and Simone Stenti

Art: Claudio Sciarrone

Inducks

Index post to my entire essay series about PKNA.

Hello, let’s take a look at the first numbered PKNA issue, “Shadows on Venus”

I will talk about the plot in some detail, which means spoilers, so the rest is under the cut.

The plot of the story is fairly simple. The evronians try to kidnap Angus Fangus, and do manage to drain his emotions with one of their guns, leaving him a shell. DA and One organize a rescue to find a way to put Angus’s personality back into his body and they take Xadhoom along. It takes our heroes to an evronian base near Venus.

There they learn that Angus’s surfeit of negative emotions like hate and envy is so large that evronians consider him worthy of study in order to learn how they can exploit those emotions too.

Xadhoom offers herself in exchange for Angus being restored and freed, but after restoring Angus, the evronians betrays the heroes. Xadhoom breaks free and destroys the base while the DA and Angus escape it.

It is a simple fight the evil aliens plot, but there are some interesting character development going on here. And there is also a subplot.

Xadhoom in this issue is introduced as the same person as she was in issue 0/3. Her motivation for fighting the evronians is simple:

She helps out Angus solely because she wants to kill evronians, not because she cares for him or any other earthling. DA is clearly horrified by Angus being minddrained, but Xadhoom remains cold and seems to be mainly asking about Angus because DA cares.

Right afterwards, there is this bit where DA hides the existence of One from her, because he (with quite some justification) doesn’t feel like he can fully trust her yet. She fights the evil evronians, but she isn’t at all altruistic, or so it seems.

This contrasts with the Duck Avenger and One, who are so altruistic that they go to great lengths to help Angus. Notice how in the panel above Xadhoom is gleefully talking about revenge while the Duck Avenger is racing to help Angus.

Da cracks jokes but doesn’t hesitate one bit to help Angus, despite him being a terrible person.

In fact, in order to locate the Evronian base, One has to perform “an extrordinary amount of work” and it is the first time we see him seriously strained, as you can see in his expression above. He otherwise often comes across as near-omnipotent, but this is the first serious sign we see that his powers are indeed limited. Yet he does it anyway, more because the DA urges him to.

Despite the darker tone of this comic, what keeps it grounded in the duck comics that came before is this earnest morality: the good guys truly are good. They act out of a deep-seated belief that every life matters. This could come across as sickeningly sweet and sentimental (and it sometimes does in other disney stuff), but here it is well-done and really touching. Probably because we see the DA and One really be strained in their effort to save Angus. Their witty banter and mild sarcasm also keeps the stories from being outright sentimental.

Also it is revealed that the top of Ducklair tower is a spaceship. Very cool.

Compare that with Xadhoom, who doesn’t care for Angus or any other earth dweller at all. DA convinces get her to go along with them on their venusian expedition not through any appeal to her sense of empathy, but by telling her that there are evronians to kill. They don’t tell there there is a life to save, though there is.

In fact, Angus in his drained state still has some rudimentary childlike consciousness and when he proves to be liability as such, Xadhoom even threatens to disintegrate him and it is implied she only doesn’t do it because she gets distracted.

Later when they are fighting through the evronian base, Xadhoom however makes a horrific discovery:

This is one of the first times in the comic where the story stops to hint at how horrible the very concept of coolflames are.

And it is a nice character moment for Xadhoom. Both her and the reader are reminded that she has a very good reason for so obsessively hating the evronians and her quest for revenge.

And it reminds DA that Xadhoom still has empathy, as much as her deep trauma and obsession has put it to the background of her mind. This is the first time that he asks her to save someone.

A few pages later, we meet the evronian scientist Zoster who has now taken Angus’s body. He explains why they want Angus specifically:

It is literally that he is such an asshole that it becomes scientifically interesting and they want to do experiments on him.That’s hilarious.

When DA and Xadhoom shows up and confront him, Zoster explains that he might be able to put Angus back into Angus, but he wants someone else in exchange:

And surprisingly, Xadhoom agrees.

And she is then put into a capsule that will weaken and contain her. The evronians do put Angus’s cerebral energy back into him, but then being evronians, they betray their deal.

At which point, Xadhoom easily escapes her capsule and proceeds to blow up the evronian base, telling DA to get the hell out with Angus. And after a tense escape sequence, they do.

This is a very nice scene that works on several levels. It is a very suspenseful moment, which puts all three of the main characters into peril. And it leads into a satisfying climax to the story where the bad guys are soundly defeated (although only for this issue).

It is another proof of Xadhoom’s sheer power, and her awareness of it. She surrenders because she knows that she is far too powerful for the evronians to capture. It is a very cool moment for her.

Yet here she also shows that she is regaining the capacity to care about other people again. She begins this issue by claiming to be motivated by “pure and simple revenge”, but this is not what motivates her in the climax. She isn’t making an actual sacrifice, but she does go to some length to help Angus out. This is again not because she cares about him personally, she doesn’t know him at all. But she does know the Duck Avenger, who does care about Angus. And it is implied that because DA is a friend to her, she starts to care about his concerns as well, such as protecting life on Earth. Her friendship with DA gives her a new connection to other people and re-awakens her ability to care about them. It is a very nice piece of character development.

There is also a subplot taking place back on Earth, which I also want to briefly discuss. This subplot is about the consequences of Angus just disappearing suddenly. It introduces a new character Mike Morrighan, who is very similar to Angus: another selfish reporter. He would become a minor recurring character, but introducing him is one of the main purposes of this subplot. He has a theory on why Angus disappeared:

The subplot then follows his investigation of Angus disappearance, together with Lyla. Mike is at least as bad as Angus in his journalistic practice.

Lyla acts as the audience viewpoint character in the subplot, giving a moral perspective on what Mike is doing. It makes her very likeable.

She also plays that role earlier on in the issue, when she discovers Angus has been making a fake video of DA to discredit our hero.

Incidentally, most of the science in this comic is of course fantastical space opera stuff, but the fake video here seems fairly realistic, and feels relevant now that we worry about “deep fakes”.

Despite her being sidelined from the main plot, Lyla uses her android skills to figure out that evronians are behind Angus’s disappearance. Very cool.

Mike and Lyla discover that Angus had made preparations to get something delivered to him at the docks. And after the Duck Avenger returns Angus to Duckburg, we learn what it is.

This Maori mask of the Fangus clan is the first time the comic explores his maori heritage and makes it clear that it is important to him in some way. This would be explored more in later issues and would become a way for the writers to soften and complicate his character. Of course, Angus smuggled the mask in, because he is a shady guy.

It is actually very kind of Lyla and Mike to go out of their way to replace the mask with a replica. It actually feels somewhat contrived, to be honest, but I can see why it was written this way. The writers wanted to delay revealing what is in the box for a page and build up suspense. The reveal needed an explanation for the mask, an explanation Mike or Lyla realistically can’t give when they first open the box. But they neither wanted to show an anti-climatic empty box or Lyla giving away unlawfully smuggled goods, so they came up with the replica idea. It works well enough, I suppose.

The issue ends with the DA making use of Angus’s temporarily impaired state to make his own video, giving him his just desserts for the fake video earlier. And it even resolves the issue of how to explain his absence during his evronian kidnapping.

It is a happy ending, but only for now, as there are many adventures to come.

This is a fun issue. It is a standard “Thwart the bad guys” plot, but it is well-executed and fun. The action is cool and the art is excellent. And most importantly, there are some nice character moments that give it more meaning.

I hope you will join me for issue number 2, where there is another new bad guy that will be introduced….

#pkna #chronicles of the evronian war #duck avenger #xadhoom #lyla lay #one #analysis #francesco artibani #simone stenti #claudio sciarrone

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btsmutimagines · 5 years ago

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Just Loosen Up (M)

A/N: This is a complete whim and I DON’T CONDONE THE ACTIONS IN THIS AND DON’T RECOMMEND ANYONE TRY THIS

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Drug use (MDMA/ Ecstasy)

“So, run that by me again?”

“I think we should take some ecstasy and talk things through. Minyoung told me it worked for her and Hayoung, maybe it’ll work for us.”

“And you think I would agree to this because...?”

“What, you don’t want to? Babe, you’re always talking about needing to communicate and I’m shitty with feelings so maybe a few pills could loosen me up.”

“Then, why do I have to take some?”

“It’s gender equality, babe. Equal opportunity for both of us.” You rolled your eyes at his explanation, a stupid grin breaking on his face.

Your boyfriend, Jungkook just came home with this crazy idea and you were pretty sure he lost his mind.

He was right about one thing: the two of you have been going through a rough patch in your relationship. He chalked it up to living together for so long, but you think it’s the lack of communication between the two of you.

You worked all day, getting home when he leaves to work out and he comes home to just crash on the bed. You barely manage to kick his sweaty ass out of bed and take a shower. He would offer to shower with you, but you just want to sleep.

You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat down out the dining table that you spent weeks looking for when you first moved in together and eat a meal with him. Drinking the wine that you both loved, and he would make lame jokes while you try to eat. Staring at each other quietly while he smiles at you before he brushes that pesky hair away from your face.

Or when he would cuddle up with you on the couch while he voices over a really shitty movie, making you crack up and you couldn’t even remember the actual lines without thinking about him?

Even that one time he accidentally wore your yoga pants and kept trying to ‘work out’ in front of you. The image of his shaped ass is permanently etched in your mind.

Where did those times go?

“Y/N?”

“Huh? Sorry.” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed by how out of it you were.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You shrugged, maybe it’ll do some good. Plus, you’re on vacation so you don’t have anywhere to be anyways.

“Awesome.”

“Awesome.” You parroted back to him, him biting his lip. He placed his hands deep into his pockets, his thumbs between front belt loops of his jeans.

“When are we doing this?”

“Shit, right. I need to go buy some.”

“Seriously?”

“I wanted to run it by you first, I can’t just walk around with a baggie of ecstasy exactly.”

“Doesn’t sound like you were confident that you could convince me.”

“Babe, you know that I had a complete shot in the dark with you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Are we really getting into this right now? After what we just agreed on?” You felt your cheeks burning, not even realizing how silly you were being.

It’s not exactly easy to say ‘Hey, baby, let’s do some ecstasy and talk about our feelings’ without being tossed into the back of a cruiser.

“Sorry.”

“We can get through this, I promise.” He kissed your head before leaving. You stood there a few moments before he opened the door again.

“Forgot my keys…” He grabbed them off the table sheepishly before leaving again. You rolled your eyes, the one time he seemed kind of cool.

He came back with a bag and you opened your eye to look at him.

“Alright.” He proceeded to dump the content of his bag on the coffee table, revealing a bunch of snacks and you sat up.

“Snacks?”

“Minyoung told me that you can get really hungry after taking some.”

“Babe, I think it’s actually thirst, not hunger.”

“Oh. We got water.”

“The more I think about it, the more of a whim it seems.”

“Can you just have a little faith in me? For once?” He muttered, you looked up at him and he cleared his throat.

“Okay, I told Minyoung to check on us in a few hours. I only bought enough for one dose, so we don’t overdose or something…”

“Is there anything else we need to prepare?”

“This feels like Katniss and Peeta before they try to eat Nightshade in the Hunger Games. I’m totally Katniss by the way.”

“Weren’t you the one pursuing me in this relationship?”

“Mhm, I don’t remember that.”

“Uh-huh.” He grinned again, that stupid smile of his. He placed a pill in your hand, him holding one up.

“Cheers?”

“They’re pills.”

“Are you going to leave me hanging?” You rolled your eyes, tapping your pill against his before swallowing it at the same time as him.

“How long until it kicks in?”

“Half an hour.”

“What do we do until then?”

“Wanna make out?”

“Shut up.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could feel a shift in your mood, knowing that a half an hour must have passed by now and you looked at Jungkook.

“Babe?”

“It’s so fucking cold.”

“Baby, it’s summer.”

“Then, why is the temperature so low? Did you tamper with the thermostat?”

“We don’t have a thermostat, Kook.”

“Fuck.” You wrapped your arms around him, hoping that would help and he seemed a bit tense.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Besides cold, obviously?”

“Can I get a blanket first?”

“Fine.” You got up, stumbling a little and trying to keep your balance while you got to the linen closet to pull out a blanket and walk back to the living room. Jungkook was rubbing his hands together as if it were below 0 in the room but you didn’t bother to point that out.

“Here.”

“Come in with me.” You did so, him pulling you closer and you sighed.

“Ready now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, let’s talk about us. I feel like we don’t see each other anymore. I know we live together but it’s like we are roommates that share a bed and occasionally has sex. I don’t want that.”

“But you give the best cuddles.”

“Kook, that’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“We don’t see each other enough.”

“I’m seeing you right now. Wait.” He closed his eyes, “Now, we’re not seeing each other.”

“Kookie, focus.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe. What were you saying?”

“That this is a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea? Making a food printer?”

“What?”

“You know, it’s like a printer that makes meals. Instead of a picture of a hamburger, it makes a whole ass hamburger that you can eat and shit. I think that’s a good idea.”

“That’s the most coherent thing you’ve said so far.”

“Thanks, Baby.” He sloppily kissed your cheeks and you shook your head. You got all the right effects while he’s probably on a bad trip.

“Pretty baby. What did you eat to get so pretty?” He poked your cheek as he said this, moving your cheek around with his finger.

“Not different than you.”

“Aw, can I be as pretty as you?”

“You already are, Kookie.”

“Cookie? Do you have cookies?” You rolled your eyes, so he wasn’t wrong about him being hungry. You reached for the snacks on the table, Jungkook still holding onto you and you handed him the box.

“Thank god, I’m starving.”

“Eat it up.” You watched him happily munch on the box, making sure he wouldn’t inhale the box as well. He tossed the box across the box, hitting the wall before dropping to the ground.

“You’re like a toddler.”

“Am not.”

“You’re only proving my point.”

“Looks like the only effect the pills had was making you meaner.”

“I’m mean?”

“Yeah, sometimes you make me feel so stupid. Watching you read all those huge textbooks and learn all those complex ass theories while I’m some stupid gym rat.”

“You’re not-”

“Don’t act like it’s not true. I don’t have anything to offer you except this amazing body.”

“Do you think I just like you because you’re hot?”

“What else is there?”

“Are you out of your mind- Never mind, don’t answer that.” You stopped yourself before continuing,

“Every new thing you try, you’re somehow a fucking prodigy at it. Everyone we meet gravitates to you like you’re the centre of the universe or something. Even though you can be shy, there’s just something about you that makes people want to find out more. I don’t think you know how much I envy that.”

“Envy? Me?”

“I’m some frigid stuck up bitch compared to you. I wonder why you even like me sometimes.”

“How could I not like you? You don’t baby me like everyone else, seeing you work hard makes me want to work ten times harder. You’re so determined in everything you do and you always get your shit done. You stand up for yourself and won’t take shit for anyone. You’re a fucking badass and I love it.”

“I am?”

“Not only that, you have a soft and caring side to you that only reveal to me. It’s just as beautiful as your badass side.”

“I’ve never heard you say that to me.”

“Just never got the chance.”

“What are we doing?”

“Huh? I thought we were having a moment here? A tête à tête, if you will.”

“No, I mean why can’t we say shit like this when we’re not high?”

“Because we’re two dumbos.”

“Two? I didn’t know you had a twin.”

“So, you got jokes, huh?” You laughed, Jungkook joining you. Your eyes glanced at the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the sight oddly arousing to you.

Why is he so hot?

“I guess I’m the funny one in this relationship now.” You straddle him, pressing yourself closer to him. The subtle outline of his dick rubbed against you through your tights.

“I beg to differ.”

“I don’t remember that being a discussion.” You leaned in close to his lips, your hot breath definitely hitting against his skin. Could he tell how much you were burning up right now?

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you still cold, baby? I know just the thing to warm you up.”

“What if I overheat? What are you going to do to me?” You resisted the urge to flick his forehead, there goes his ability to concentrate. He looked at you anxiously, you cupped his cheek in response.

“Do you really want me to say it? Or should I show you?” You grind against him, hoping it would give a hint.

“Why did you- oh, you mean that?”

“Mhm-mmm. What do you say?”

“Let’s get rid of the blanket, shall we?” He tossed the blanket across the floor, landing on your large plant and you laughed.

“Nice shot.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” You retorted. He quickly got up, you naturally gripping onto him and his hands placed under your thighs.

“Jesus.” He made his way to the bedroom, taking a few stumbles. You weren’t sure it was out of eagerness or because of ecstasy, it didn’t matter though

“Yeah, I know I’m godlike.”

“Fuck off.”

“Rather fuck you instead, though.”

“You’re still a smart ass when you’re high, huh?”

“Don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on.” He sat down on the bed, lying down and you lied on top of him.

“Au contraire.” You whispered while your fingers traced his jaw before he kissed you.

It felt like a rush as he pressed his lips against yours, the feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins. His hands slipped under your tights, giving a firm squeeze.

Your mind began to drift, allowing yourself to drown in the sensation of his hot lips. His sweet saliva homogenized with yours as his tongue entered yours. His teeth caught yours, giving sensual bites with a small tug. The sloppiness of his wet kiss was lost on you as your hands fumbled with his jeans.

“Why are there still clothes on you?”

“I could say the same.” You said, reaching for his shirt and fling it across the room. He slid your tights down, murmuring curses as they struggled down your legs.

He flipped you over, getting up to take off his jeans with your eyes raking in his body.

You took off your shirt as he finally took off your tights with your panties. He spread your legs, his finger taking a quick swipe.

“C’mon.”

“Use your words.”

“Asshole.”

“Maybe next time.” You glared at him; you knew that he was probably smirking.

“I want your tongue on my clit while you stretch me out with your fingers, Jungkook.” You spat out.

You moaned, his fingers quickly curling up inside you and his tongue pressed against your pussy. He timed his thrusts with the flick of his tongue, pleasure intensifying with each time.

“So fucking wet for me, hmm.” He grunted, briskly removing his fingers from inside you. You rested on your elbows, looking up at him and he leaned over to give you a quick kiss. A hand haphazardly began to stroke his cock, barely wrapping around his girth and he replaced your hand with his own. The quiet snap of rubber was followed by the infuriating rubbing of his head against you.

“Quit the teasing.”

“Never.”

“You’re such a d-” He slid inside of you before you could finish, beginning to work his hips as he thrusts into you. How could you forget the way his cock stretches you out? The titillating way his shaft rubbed against your walls, the muted smacking of skin when his hips met yours. His hot hands pressed against your shapely thighs, leaving imprints on them.

“Fuck.”

“Like that?”

“Fucking harder.” You keen, gripping the sheets as he complied. His grip grew stronger, knowing that you were going to bruise later but all you cared about was the way he slammed his cock into you. He moved one hand, kneading your breast while his fingers pinched your hardened nipple. You mewled; a decadent wave of bliss washed over you.

“Just like that, god, fuck.” He groaned, his thrusts sputtering, and his finger crudely rubbed against your clit. You let out a shrill whine, hitting your climax a few seconds later. He stopped thrusting a few moments later, the sound of panting filling the air as he pulled out.

You got up, looking for your shirt and finding it hanging on the doorknob. Slipping it on, you scratched your head a bit.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“5 missed calls from Minyoung.”

“She was supposed to check on us…”

“You don’t think she…”

“She won’t...”

“You and I both know she would.” The two of you walked out to the living room, seeing your friend, Minyoung eating the snacks Jungkook bought and you immediately wished the floor would swallow you whole.

“You two rascals. I’m guessing that the pills did the trick, then?” She said with a mischievous grin.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic

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rayveos · 4 years ago

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Why ‘Guilty Crown’ Remains To Be My Favorite Anime

HELL YES THIS POST IS DEDICATED TO GUILTY CROWN.

And before you tell me how many flaws this anime have and how unsatisfying the ending was, I want to remind you that this is an appreciation post for this underrated anime. No hate comment could change my mind since I’ve watched it back on 2016.

Shall we go back to the main point now?

PLOT. Alright. Like any other animes, Guilty Crown had its flaws too. However, I’m sure you can’t deny that a character who started as a coward (in the beginning of the anime itself) obtaning a ‘Power of Kings’ is something. And it’s not your usual power that you can match on other abilities of our favorite hollywood heroes and comics champions. His power is basically drawing people’s hearts out and materializing them into voids which can be useful weapons and necessities. And these voids reflect its owners’ fears, personality, and character.

***VOIDS. It’s like, “what will your heart look like if it was an object?” Personally, I’m in love with Inori’s beautiful Singer’s Sword while the explanation behind Shu’s always breaks me. They didn’t specifically elaborate why Inori’s is a sword but let’s remind ourselves that Inori was originally created as a vessel to contain Mana’s mind. So, I guess the Singer’s Sword is also an animation of Mana’s heart too.

What I find interesting about the Singer’s Sword is that it contains strong abilities such as being a protective barrier for its carrier and as the sharpest longsword. I can’t help but always fangirl on the first episode wherein the sword is too powerful that it could create a huge flash of light up to the skies. There’s also one in the fourth episode wherein it can destroy anything it will touch onto, regardless of the direction of its attack.

ANIMATION. I’m not that of an expert, technically speaking. You may hate or bash this anime you want but dude, it’s one of the prettiest animations you could ever see. I don’t know if it’s just me but the waves coming from anyone who possesses the power of the Void Genome and Inori when she’s singing are like the black transparent tapes on cassettes. The colors are wonderfully chosen too as they’re not flashy or painful to watch.

If I’m going to choose my favorite episodes that contain the best animations of it, I would choose the first, second, fourth, nineteenth, and the last episode. The place where there is like a flower garden, the one where Shu and Inori spends their alone time after taking leadership of the school, is also gorgeous. The glow on that scene emphasizes how genuine their love is and how beautifully flawed Shu’s character behind his fierce leadership (of course, Hare).

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Sure, there are characters that go back and forth from being good to bad and vice versa. It may be uncomfortable to some but as for me, I think it’s pretty realistic in some aspects. Yes, this is supposed-to-be an anime. Nevertheless, it doesn’t invalidate the creators’ desire to put more reality in it. Sometimes, I think the other viewers are reacting the way they did on Akame ga Kill.

In wars, just like how the setting of the Guilty Crown is post-apocalyptic and on the verge of having another one, casualties are quite understandable. Student Council President Kohouin also had her change of heart when she fell in love with Gai and when she ended up envying the studentry’s support to Shu after he proposed an action plan. It’s natural that an elite daughter of the family who has been the center of attention for a long time to turn to the bad side when the spotlight was taken from her. Ayase’s moving on moment is also a strike. She didn’t succumb to her guilt and sadness for losing Gai. Instead, she asked help from Shu to prove to herself that she is indeed useful.

The best character development award goes to Shu, obviously. When he was a kid, he’s this jolly person who encourages others to be courageous and brave. After the tragedy the Lost Christmas inflicted, there’s no doubt that it will traumatize him and became this isolated person we get introduced on the first episode. Living in the shadows like that for years, there’s a tendency that they get well-attached to the first person who gave them attention and faith, hence his growing affection to Inori.

The naivety on Shu’s side during Gai’s planning of operation is on point too. That would be the first reaction of ignorant people who believes that everything should be solved with peace and diplomacy. Again, on their time, it was chaotic and there are abusive officials that plan on bringing the next apocalypse. The way he stood up for the Funeral Parlor members after Gai died fell on the right place too. He was influenced by Gai and I’m sure that after everything what happened and after remembering his past, he won’t let others get harassed or hurt too.

Hare’s death remains to be the biggest turning point for me. Given her strong belief to Shu’s kindness, she’s like a symbolism of Shu’s good side, the part that kept Shu’s inner struggles in check. When she died and Shu declared to become king, I clapped until the episode ends. The subsequent display of his flaws as a human is wonderful. His wrath, the cold treatment, the way he controlled the school and its students. I’m not saying they are nice things. BUT they kept his development moving. It’s not about embracing the bad side but accepting it as a part of you. It’s an ugliness that even Inori recognized as beautiful because in the end, the world has both its beauty and flaws, like a human being.

MUSIC. I will fight anyone who tells me that this anime’s soundtrack is not good. All of the songs they used in the anime are in my playlists! My personal favorite is Bios and Departure Blessings though. I remember I have a friend who has a similar voice to Inori’s voice actress. We became friends because we’re both in love with Guilty Crown. She would sing Departure Blessings a lot when we walk together.

ENDING. As much as I’d like for Shu to die with Inori, the ending didn’t disappoint me or anything. Actually, when I read its summary and explanation, it made sense. It was an unexpected sacrifice from Inori as she have always preferred to be together with Shu. Even so, we have to admit that they are the most unfortunate pair. Inori is human-made vessel for someone else. Someone who is supposed to be emotionless and everlastingly obedient. Meanwhile, Shu is the Adam that Mana appointed even he was still on their mother’s womb. He was already destined to yield the power of the king. I think the reason why Gai is furious when Shu took the power on the first episode is not because he wants it to be his. He’s only making sure that Shu won’t suffer the fate he is destined to have due to Mana’s mind deterioration back then— which is to be the next Adam and bring forth the next generation and its evolution.

That is why them being the couple in the center of all chaos, taking back all the virus’ traces and giving back the voids he used, made perfectly sense. The song ‘Release my soul’ is also a tribute to their love story. Since Inori is not really supposed to exist via natural means, I understand how she chose to allow Shu to continue living instead of dying with her. Shu is still young, after all. He has a future waiting for him, one that Inori can’t possibly have naturally because in the first place, she is not human. You do remember that part when she went berserk, right?

As for the blindness, it came from Inori who was on that time was consumed by Mana. Mana being affected by Inori’s interference on the final battle, the physical body they share was greatly infected by the virus that it caused blindness. When Shu decided to take everything on his hands to end it once and for all, he also took Inori’s blindness as a part of sacrificing themselves. It’s Inori’s last minute sacrifice that mattered. The red threads which are symbolism of destiny/fate are also the same object that tangled Shu’s and Inori’s fates forever. By taking this, Shu also took Inori’s soul before it can also be destroyed along with her physical body. The blindness is simply a reminder that Inori was there. It was Inori’s blindness. It’s a bittersweet ending. The body no longer exists but her soul remains with the one she loves. Together, in the inner mind and consciousness, they are on each other’s arms.

Credits to the owners of these photos. I do not own anything except for this long appreciation post.

#guiltycrown #oumashu #guilty crown #inori #anime #appreciation post #dedication #underrated #fangirling #gai #ayase #funeral parlor #analyzing #voids #power of kings #animation #arts

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omi-ohmyimagination · 6 years ago

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Newspaper girl

Themes: Historical AU (kind of), Mature, Smut, Romance, Optional Bias x Female Reader

Word count: ~9,2k

Description: With all the drinking and fun at night one can forget what really matters. Even if you don't want to admit it, you got lost, too. But maybe a mysterious man who came to town one day can bring you happiness again.

OMI’s note: I'm know you've waited long time for this, so without further ado, here's my new baby. The research I did wasn't enough, I guess and I can't really put it under "1930s" tag but overall I'm still satisfied with the whole story.

A strong smell of cigarettes made you hold your breath for a second in surprise. Every corner of a bar was filled with thick, gray smoke. However, it seemed not to bother anyone inside. Sounds of conversations, laughter and loud jazzy music spread around the room, summoning new people in. People hungry for fun and simple, frivolous acts of entertainment.

It was hard to move between the sea of sweaty bodies. You brushed over someone's figure and before the man had a chance to say something, you murmured quick sorry and moved as far as possible. You weren't there to start any kind of argument with a drunk bastard who was probably cheating on his “beloved” wife in that exact moment. You wanted to see an argument or maybe even fight today, that was true, but you prefered not to be the one responsible for its happening nor take part in it.

As soon as you reached the counter, you waved your hand to a bartender and sneaked to stairs hidden behind him. You were one of the few people who had an access to a balcony, the calmest place in the bar, and you thanked the god for your connections because looking from a far at people was a lot simpler. And definitely more safer.

Your heels slid across a red carpet spreaded on the wooden stairs, creating almost no sound. Your hand landed on a cold metal of a rail. Shivers ran through your fingers. As you reached the balcony, whole new scenery unfurled in front of you – creamy walls, heavy curtains and men dressed in expensive suits. Women, both in fancy dresses and a little too exposing attires, accompanied them, laughing at every unfunny joke just so they would look like they are more open than they in fact were. The only thing similar, maybe even exactly the same, was the amount of smoke flowing in the air.

You moved to the only free table across the balcony, where a richly looking piece of paper with your nickname written on it was laid. Some of the people you walked past by greeted you politely, probably hoping that they wouldn't become your next target. Their heads turned from time to time to watch what you were doing, whispering in an uncomfortable manner. They were visibly stressed because of your person, and you were sure that they wished that their night full of questionable types of fun wouldn't be disturbed. After all, no one wanted to read about themselves in an article in the biggest newspaper in town.

As soon as you sat down a waitress appeared, bringing you your usual order – café. You spent so much time at Pearl surrounded by drunkards who had offered you drinks many times that you were amazed by the fact you didn't become one of them. You've never drank much and people seemed surprised by this.

You looked around – people relaxed a bit after their initial fear, they get back to drinking and laughing. It was always like this, they knew that without anything interesting from their side, they wouldn't appear in the article. You didn't care about boring stuff. Who would like to read about it anyway?

You were about to lean over the rail when someone sat beside you.

“Hunting again?”

“It's not hunting, mister Li, it's work.”

The man took a sip of his drink and laughed loudly. “Work, you say? I wouldn't call it like that.”

“You know I don't care, right?”

“Of course. But...” Sounds of surprised gasps from below interrupted him. You glanced down and noticed young man dressed in richly looking clothes heading from door to the counter. His moves were full of confidence and he didn't even spare a glance at shocked people around him.

You stared at him with growing curiosity. He was definitely not from town, your first though was that he was visiting someone but you dropped that immediately. He wouldn't have been there alone.

With dissatisfaction you took a look at people in the bar. Similar to you they were interested in the man however, they seemed... intimidated, scared perhaps. You leaned over the rail a bit more, trying to hear what they were talking about but the music was too loud. However, people at the balcony started chatting with each other, not caring that you were near.

“Do you know who is this?”

“Not at all and I'm not sure if I want to know.”

“Me too, he makes me... uncomfortable? He didn't even looked at us and I feel like I don't belong here.”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“He's handsome.”

Everyone went silent for a moment. “But he's also weirdly scary. I'm embarrassed and I don't understand why.”

You glanced at the stranger once again and locked eyes with him. Shivers ran down your spine but you couldn't stop staring at him. It felt like you were doing something forbidden. Smirk appeared at his lips and he nodded. You automatically did the same but as soon as you've realized that, you turned your gaze the other way. Your cheeks became hot.

Out of nowhere mister Li showed up besides you.

“It seems like you're the prey now,” he laughed, looking downstairs.

“And you're the idiot who thinks I care about his poor attempt at flirting with me.”

He squeezed the glass he was holding. The vein on his forehead became prominent as he got more red. “I hope that you will finally regret everything you did,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“I already regret a lot.”

Saturday, 20th of May

Unexpected, but strangely oh-so-welcomed, guest in Pearl

Surprised gasps that left mouths of a few women at the bar announced his arrival. Every head turned in a direction where he stood, every person situated at the balcony leaned over the rail. No one knew what was happening but one thing was sure at that very moment – the “newspaper girl” that terrified them with her ability to see and remember everything was not on their mind anymore that night. Maybe even next nights too.

“He” is their main attraction from now on.

The mysterious man dressed in fitted, white polo shirt and trousers in the deepest black color you could imagine drew everyone's attention. His identity is still unknown for all guests in Pearl, even our omniscient “newspaper girl” has no idea who the handsome guy is.

But not only his appearance raised voices at the bar. His attitude was more than fascinating. You could say that he was oozing with confidence and something like superiority. He made you feel like you truly did not belong to that high-class of people enjoying their nights accompanied by alcohol and girls in skimpy clothes. You may think that this privilege – yes, privilege arising from your social status – is what you deserve, what world prepared just for you but that man proved us wrong in a matter of second. He is the true “child of the universe” whether you like it or not.

Truly interesting persona.

He sparked a debate among guests in Pearl which was not really something they wanted to think about that Friday night. It was supposed to be their fun time not time to worry about their positions. He made them anxious and it seemed that they did not like that.

However, curiosity is bigger than fear.

So, will you come to see that man?

Will you suppress that awful feeling of panic inside you?

“Newspaper girl” is definitely going to monitor the situation for all of you. Especially for those who are too scared.

You put the newspaper back on the table and reached for a cup filled with strong, black café. The liquid slid down your throat and bitter taste of it made you sighed with content. You looked around with smile full of pride, enjoying the scenery before your eyes – every person at the restaurant had their own copy of the newspaper and with flushed cheeks they discussed the article. It was amazing how event as simple as that one – someone new appearing in town – could spark so much emotions. Was it because of the beauty of the stranger or his attitude? You were yet to find an answer to this.

“Can I have a moment of your time, miss?” You glanced up at small middle-aged woman with question written all over your face. You nodded, encouraging her to speak. “You're newspaper girl, right?”

“Yes. How can I help you?”

She sat on the chair beside you and grabbed your hand. “Oh, can you pass my message to the author of that article? I was at Pearl yesterday and that text is so accurate! Those feelings... it was so weird! I couldn't understand why I felt that way and they came with logical explanation. I enjoyed it so much!”

You laughed half proud and half uncomfortable. “No problem, I will tell them this.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” She stood up and was ready to go back to her own table, when she turned around and said, “And thank you, of course. Without you there wouldn't be any material for those articles.”

Taking praises wasn't something you were good at. You enjoyed the fact that people liked all your texts but prefered to look at their happiness and excitement instead of hearing their declarations of love. You weren't able to count how many times they expressed their desire to meet V, there was even a case where one man wanted to proposed to her. Funny, taking into consideration the fact that no one really knew if V was actually a woman. They were so clueless. Sometimes you envied them, you wished to be as oblivious as they were.

You reached for the cup once again and noticed that someone sat on the other side of the table where just a seconds before the woman was situated. You glanced up and coughed dramatically when you realized who you were looking at.

The mysterious man from Pearl.

His eyes scanned you attentively and sly smirk stretched his lips shortly after. He was truly intimidating, making you feel more uncomfortable than you were yesterday. He seemed to be aware of this, what's more, he was clearly enjoying it.

“So you're the one who wrote that article about me.” His voice was unexpectedly smooth, honey-like sweet and coated in a mystery. He took out a pack of cigarettes from a pocket of his jacket, lit one and drew on it deeply. White smoke danced around him gracefully.

You tilted your head to the side and looked suggestively at the box with cigarettes laid on the table. Your companion laughed and offered you one. He extended his hand and lit it up. “Well mister, you are mistaken. I'm just an informant.”

“Are you saying that there is someone else behind it?” For the fist time he looked confused. Just a little bit confused but still.

“Exactly, I just provide information. Some says that I'm Pearl's eyes and ears and there might be something to this.”

He clearly tried to figure out whether you were lying or not. However, your face was like a blank canvas, you couldn't give yourself away.

Truly interesting man, definitely a lot more intelligent than people around you.

“And who is it exactly?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I would like to meet that person and talk to them a bit. I'm simply interested.”

You laughed genuinely entertained. “You're not the only person with such wish. Sadly, it's not possible. V doesn't want to reveal her identity.”

“How about you? Do you want to tell me your name,” he asked suddenly, surprising you.

“My... name?”

“Yes, everyone has name after all. Mine, if you want to know, is B/N.”

“Okay B/N, nice to meet you. Although, I didn't need that information. But if you insist, you can address me as newspaper girl.”

He frowned now clearly bewildered. “People in this town really love secrets, huh?”

“You're not from here then.” It was more like a statement rather than question.

“No, I'm here for business purposes. And I don't know why but I feel like I'm going to have a hard week.”

“Oh, I'm sure of it. You're the biggest attraction for them and I'm ready to report all of your moves,” you said with a smile. It sounded bad, you yourself knew it, but that was sad reality – someone's life and privacy was your money.

“Should I make it easier for you? I didn't plan to go to Pearl tonight but now I may consider it.”

You stood up with a smirk, finished your coffee and came closer to him. Your hand landed on his shoulder. “See you later then.”

You slowly sipped your drink, spinning a pen in your hand. You were obviously waiting for B/N. Just like every other person at Pearl. Everyone was sitting at the edge of their chairs, looking with hope at the door. Even though he made them uncomfortable their curiosity was too strong. He was like a drug – you knew you shouldn't play with them yet if you tried them they pulled you to them again. The atmosphere was drastically different than during any other nights and it wasn't hard to see it. Music was forgotten, no one really wanted to dance at time like this, there were no laughs, no conversations in raised voices, only whispers and anticipation.

You, however, was awaiting events that were near. You didn't need to question whether B/N would come or not, you knew he would. You kind of challenged him and he seemed like someone who wouldn't like to lose. No matter what.

Sudden commotion downstairs made you leaned over the rail. As soon as you glanced at the entrance your eyes met with his. You smirked pleased with how predictable he was. In response he chuckled, shaking his head. He definitely understood that his decision wasn't really his, that he lost at the moment when he proposed to come to Pearl.

Or maybe that was his plan from the beginning and you were the one that lost to him?

You followed his every move with sharp eye, and you were not the only one to do this. Everyone's attention was set on him. Just as if he didn't care – which was probably true – B/N sat beside the counter and ordered a drink. He was looking at you full of interest, it was almost like his eyes were glued to you. It was annoying and uncomfortable.

In the corner of your eye you noticed that one of dancers was approaching B/N. She was swaying her hips and didn't even try to hide the fact that she adjusted her boobs in the fitted dress. She sat beside him and put her hand on his thigh. You leaned against the rail with satisfaction. People of town didn't disappoint you once again.

B/N looked at her with slight disgust. “How can I help you?” His voice was muffled by sounds of music but this time you were able to understand the words more clearly.

“You can help me in many various ways,” she said in flirty tone. B/N glanced at you and rolled his eyes. You giggled, not even trying to look serious.

“Such as?”

“Maybe drink first?”

“Why do you think I will do this?”

She blinked a few times confused. “What?”

“I asked...”

“I heard your question but I don't understand it.” She moved her hand back.

“It's not really that surprising, to be honest.” You choked completely stunned. He was shameless to the core.

The girl stood up and slapped B/N. Silence filled the bar. “You jerk,” she screamed and ran out. B/N massaged his cheek, finished his drink and headed to the exit.

Sunday, 21st of May

Was it really necessary?

Yesterday will be remembered by every Pearl's guest. Especially by our young and beautiful dancer, Luna. Judging by her sudden leave, that night did not turn out how she wanted.

But let me start from the beginning.

The anticipation of his arrival was so strong that you could have felt it on your skin. Everyone was looking at the entrance with shaky hands.

Excitation and stress.

Curiosity and fear.

Truly amazing impact.

When he finally arrived the atmosphere became even more suffocating. No one knew what to expect. And what happened shortly after he appeared was definitely the last thing they could have thought about.

Poor girl. She just wanted to have some fun with handsome stranger. However, he wasn't interested. Well, that is a huge understatement. He humiliated her in front of everyone and a slap he received in exchange was deserved.

Such a lack of moral spine.

Does he really feel so superior to us?

Was that harsh comment necessary?

And the most important, what will be the consequences?

“I can't believe he turned out to be such a scumbag.” A girl on the nearest bench closed the newspaper and throw it beside her. She turned to her friend and crossed her legs. “Handsome men are the worst.”

“Well... he didn't lie,” said the other one in a mocking tone. They looked at each other and burst into laughter almost immediately. Your brows raised slightly in disbelieve. So after all, people didn't have any sympathy for that girl. You felt bad for her, no matter what she was like he didn't have any right to talk to her like that. Was he always like this? Good question.

You raised your head and enjoyed sun that warmed your skin. Wind blew your hair all over your face and you put them behind the ear annoyed. It was hot, too hot for your liking but it was better to be outside than sit alone closed in four walls.

“So we meet once again. I might think that it's destiny.” You opened your eyes and saw B/N in front of you. You laughed at his comment.

“You're not good at thinking, huh? Just as Luna, right?”

“And who's Luna,” he asked, sitting next to you. You moved away from him a little bit.

“The girl from yesterday. The one you made fun of.”

“Oh.” He scratched his neck somewhat troubled. “I don't... well, I don't like such pushy girls. I'm not gonna go to bed with someone whose name I don't even know.”

“You didn't give her a chance to introduce herself,” you pointed out.

“That's because I wasn't interested at her.”

“You have such high standards?”

“I don't know, you tell me. If I'm interested in you, does it mean that I have high standards?”

You blinked a few times confused. Did you hear that correctly? His mouth stretched in playful smile that also reached his eyes, making them shine prettily in morning sun.

“Are you... flirting with me?”

“Of course I do,” he laughed and leaned closer to you, “Should I stop?”

You felt your cheeks getting hotter with every second. His eyes were glued to you, as if he was searching for an answer, which he probably found in the redness of your face. With satisfaction he straightened up and looked at the sky.

“Can I ask you something?” He glanced at you. You nodded your head, unable to say anything. “Does V leave any parts of information you give her?”

You raised your eyebrows even more baffled than before. “What do you mean?”

“There's a huge part of yesterday's event missing in her new article. She didn't mention anything about the fact that I was too occupied looking at you to care about that girl Luna. And that's pretty important thing, in my opinion. Did she miss that part or it was you who thought that it wasn't necessary?”

You looked at his sly smirk and madness in you started to deepen. He knew the answer already, he just wanted you to admit to omitting this information. And you weren't satisfy with this, you didn't want to play his game even though it was kind of tempting. You stood up. “She probably decided that it has nothing to do with your rudeness. Now, sorry but I have other things to do.”

You were already few meters away from him when you heard his voice, “Can you have a drink with me tonight?”

You turned around and answered in the most playful tone, “I don't drink at work.”

When you entered Pearl, B/N was already situated at the bar with a glass full of brown liquid in hand. He glanced at you and smile spreaded across his lips. He raised an arm slightly and waved, inviting you to join him. You shook your head and went upstairs, trying to ignore all the looks that people gave you. It must have been pretty interesting for them – handsome stranger that was the hottest news in town being friendly with dangerous informant. They probably didn't understand that situation at all and it made them even more curious. Which, in the process, made you person of interest again.

You sat at your usual table and scratched your neck uncomfortable. Did he not understand the situation he put you in? Or did he not care about it? You weren't supposed to be a part of news you reported, that was your golden rule. However, because of his weird interest in you that rule was shattered into pieces.

You took a big sip of a café that the waitress brought you and tried to calm yourself down.

“Do you know him personally, Miss,” a man situated at the next table asked you. His eyes scanned your face from behind the curtain of cigarette's smoke.

“No, not really. I know as such as all of you here,” you answered with polite smile.

“It looks differently to me.”

“Well, what can I say? Who knows what's inside his head.”

That was exactly what you were scared of – people became intrigued. It annoyed you, that was true, but you could have handle it. Your only hope was that your true identity would stay secret.

“Where the fuck is that piece of shit?!” A man's scream echoed through the bar. Just as everybody else you peaked behind the rail and noticed a muscular man at the entrance and Luna hidden behind him. “Where is he?” The girl pointed at B/N with victorious smile and leaned on the door. When the guy came closer you recognized him as Luna's brother, Yoon, and you already knew what was about to happen. Without a second thought, you walked downstairs and stopped near the counter. “Who do you think you are?”

“I could ask you the same question.” B/N put his glass down and stood up.

“Aren't you too cocky? Don't you know why I'm here?”

“To kick my ass, I assume. But if I were you, I would take care of my sister first.”

Complete silence filled the space. It was almost like people around them stopped breathing.

“What does it even mean?” A vein on his neck was pulsating furiously.

“So you're telling me you're okay with your sister sleeping around with random men?”

Luna's brother didn't say a word. His fist met B/N's face with such impact that he second one almost lost his balance. Shocked scream left your mouth and you met eyes with B/N. He smirked at you and caressed his red cheek.

Before you registered what was happening, B/N hit him back. Yoon tripped over a chair and landed on the floor. The guy cursed under his nose and stood up as fast as he could. “You're worse than I thought.”

“It's not even half of what I'm capable of.” You shuddered at the tone of B/N's voice. It was ice-cold, hard and scary. It was almost like he became a totally different person out of nowhere. He came closer to Luna's brother and whispered through clenched teeth, “Do you want to go out of here on your own legs?”

“You're quite sure of your strength, huh?”

“Try me. And I promise you, you will regret this.”

Just a few minutes ago you reminded yourself that you would never be a part of something like this, yet your feet carried you between two men. You didn't think about it at all, you couldn't even understand what you were doing.

You put your hand on B/N's chest and pushed him a bit. They both looked at you confused. “If you really want to kill each other, maybe you should take it somewhere else. Besides,” you turned to B/N, “don't be such a jerk, and you, you should take care of your sister better. We all know what she's doing behind your back."

Luna appeared behind her brother and pulled him towards her. “Let's go.”

“What are they talking about?”

“It doesn't matter, Yoon. It's bullshit.” You laughed genuinely entertained. “Can we talk about it at home?”

“Oh, we will.” He grabbed her by the arm and almost dragged her out of the bar.

You followed them with your eyes and finally released the air you held. Why did you do it? What were you thinking? Were you even thinking? You put yourself in a centre of people's attention.

Out of nowhere you felt hot breath on your ear. “Are you worried about me?”

Just then you realised that your hand was still on B/N's chest, and that he was a lot closer than you previously thought. You froze, unable to breathe again. You glanced behind you and swallowed loudly. His eyes were set on your lips which where unexpectedly and dangerously close to his. His smell surrounded you like a fine mist of rain. Your heart speeded up.

Without looking behind, you ran out of the bar.

Monday, 22nd of May

What a surprise!

Knowing how hot-blooded Luna's brother, Yoon, is, we probably all expected some kind of intense situation. And indeed it happened. However, the situation was much more interesting, to say the least.

Luna's absence after previous night was a sign. When she finally appeared at Pearl, she was accompanied by furious Yoon who was shouting from the top of his lungs. As soon as noticed his target, fists flew around meeting the soft skin on both men's faces.

It was highly anticipated. Some thought it was deserved, some that Luna's behaviour led to this and she was the one to be blamed in the first place. What is more, her brother seemed to not know how his precious little sister acts on a daily basis. Maybe he should care about her more.

The atmosphere inside the bar was heavy. Even worse than nights' before. Cold, scary but thrilling.

How would events played out, if our dear “newspaper girl” didn't step in between fighting men? Would blood be spilled?

We will never know since someone lost their patience and acted like a fool.

That surprise was not necessary.

Maybe I should remind her to stay in the line? After all, it was not supposed to be about her.

Head of an older man peaked from behind the opened newspaper that he held in his hands. “Y/N, I love you.”

“Okay, boss,” you laughed, sitting comfortably in the chair. “What have I done to deserve such confession?”

“What? Are you serious? Those articles are the best. People are fighting for every new copy of this paper,” he waved it in front of your face, “and it's all because of you, my precious child!”

“I would say it's thanks to B/N but I'm fine with your reasoning, too.”

Mr. Han looked at the text one more time, then put it down and folded his hands under his chin. “I must say that today's piece is especially clever. You're basically making joke of yourself. Is it because you don't want to be seen as a part of this?”

“How do you know me so well, Mr. Han?” Your laugh echoed through his office once again.

He shook his head with a warm smile on lips. “You need to know that it worked. All of editors were quite concerned about newspaper girl. It seems that they don't like the idea of V being mad at you. However, I have a one question.”

“Yes,” you asked when he didn't say anything more.

“Why did you do it? Why did you stop them?”

The smile fell off your lips. “I... I can't really explain it. I don't know.”

“I heard a bit more about yesterday's night and maybe I have some theory. But I'm sure you will figure out soon what I meant.” Your puzzled expression made him burst in laugh with such power that his desk jumped a little. You wanted to ask what he heard exactly but a knock on the door stopped you. “Come in.”

“Boss, can I take Y/N already? You can't keep her here all day,” one of your colleagues, Mina, whined, leaning on the door frame.

“Sure, I think we finished talking.”

As soon as you stood up, Mina grabbed your hand and dragged you out of Mr. Han's office. Her blonde hair smacked your face but she didn't even notice it. She led you to one of the rooms and pushed you on the chair. “I have a few things to show you, my dear, but firstly, is she really mad at you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to act as if you were sad. “Yeah, she scolded me quite badly. Now I see that it wasn't the best idea to stop them and, if something like this happen one more time, I won't do this again. I don't want to see her so mad once more.”

“Oh my god, why the hell did you do this?”

“Well... would you like to look at people fighting and do nothing about it? I know news like that are valuable but come on, I still have some humanity in me,” you answered, knowing that you try to convince yourself more than her actually. You wished that that was the reason behind your stupid behaviour.

“Too bad V can't understand this. Okay, let's leave it. Instead, look what I found about our handsome stranger,” she squealed, handing you a newspaper. “It's a magazine from my friend. She bought it abroad because that guy on the photo was hot and turned out that it's him.”

You looked at the first page and your heart skipped a bit. There he was, with perfectly styled hair, in richly looking black suit, and his face. Oh lord, cold, heavenly sculpted face with piercing gaze that made you clenched your legs unconsciously. You couldn't focus of anything besides his eyes. Why he made you feel things that you've never experienced? It was similar to yesterday's situation – you were scared but also weirdly turned on by that fear.

You glanced at the text under the photo, trying to ignore the burning feeling in your mouth.

“B/F/N is a young businessman who took our market by surprise. Not only he is extremely handsome and popular with women but also has head on his shoulders. And it is not just any type of head – B/N knows what he is doing. He quickly became one of the richest in country just by knowing in what he should invest. It seems that he is not here to play games, he came to take all money that he can. And weirdly we are not mad at him. Let us see what else he has up in his sleeve.”

“So he's a businessman, huh,” you murmured, looking at Mina again.

“Yep, my friend said that he was quite huge there. And there were a lot of rumours about him.”

“For example,” you asked genuinely interested. More information about B/N meant more peace of mind for you.

“He's known for having... a lot women in a short time span. You know, typical casanova. She heard that he even slept with a married woman which then led to her murder.”

“That's actually...,” you started but Mina interrupted you.

“I know what you're thinking but listen, people also said that he's... violent, to put it simply. There were rumours about him hiring some individuals to beat and... kill his rivals. And wait, I'm not telling you this so you can pass it to V but I want you to be careful around him. I heard that you both act friendly with each other and I assumed that you should know that.”

You blinked a few times. Shock spread through your body and you scratched your cheek. So he wasn't joking yesterday? Was he ready to do something serious to Yoon? Did you actually saved him?

You wished that those information would ease your fear but now? You were even more scared.

And annoyingly intrigued.

You were drinking second cup of cafe and trying hard not to smashed it across the bar. B/N didn't come yet and it seemed that he wouldn't come at all. You were probably the only person inside Pearl not satisfied with this. You were boiling with anger and you weren't exactly sure why.

The only thing you were sure about was the fact that you wanted to see him.

On the other hand, people at Pearl were celebrating. They were finally free, they were able to do everything without thinking how B/N would react.

For the first time in a few days music, laughter and dances ruled over the whole area.

You stood up and left the bar.

Tuesday, 23rd of May

Back to old days?

Last night was like a breath of fresh air for most of the guests in Pearl. They were finally able to play, fool around and drink to the maximum. They were full of life and joy, carefree with light hearts.

Why?

Because B/N did not show up.

You may be wondering why that happened.

Personally, I have my guesses and I will gladly share them with you.

Maybe his face was not in the best condition and his pride could have been hurt.

Or he did not want to be punched again.

Or maybe, just maybe, he is done with our town and all those people looking at him all the time with mixed feelings and expectations.

Will we see him again?

Who knows?

“Yerim, I think I'm crazy,” you said, playing with a bottle of her perfume.

“Why?” She fixed her hair then stood up and headed to a rack with beautiful dresses. She picked the most revealing one in a bright red color and started to put in on.

“You read my article, right?” She nodded without looking at you. “I was writing it and I broke... around three pencils? I was mad as fuck. And it's all because of B/N. I wanted to see him yesterday, check if he was all right and he didn't come.”

“Are you into him?”

“I wouldn't...” Yerim glanced at you with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, probably... And the fact that he's also interested in my is not helping.”

Yerim sat down and took stockings out of the drawer. “So what are waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed deeply. “Don't play dumb. You both look like you want to fuck each other, so what's the problem? Besides, I think I've heard that he's going back to his country around Friday so even if you end up in bed together, you won't see him anymore after that.”

“I don't know, Yerim.”

“You have nothing to lose, sweety. And I feel like you need some... relaxation,” she smiled innocently, fixing her dress. “Do I look good?”

You looked carefully at her. “You do, as always.”

“Thank you. Back to the previous topic, think about it. In my opinion, you need some fun. And he's ready to help you. Is there anything stopping you? No. So go for it.”

“Maybe you're right.” You stood up and followed her through long corridor leading to the main hall of Pearl. Her heels clicked on a wooden floor in an even pattern and her hair bounced with every step. She looked great even from behind.

As soon as you entered the bar, you ran into someone. You looked up and met B/N's eyes. His hand found its way around your waist somehow and you didn't move.

“Hey, nice to see you again” he said with a smile.

Even though you heard him, your brain didn't register what exactly he said. Your eyes scanned his face and bruise that was on it. It covered part of his cheek and jaw, and started to change color to slightly bluish. You reached out your hand and brushed his skin with care.

“Does it hurt?” Your fingers traced the outline of the bruise, weirdly fascinated by its pattern.

“Not really.”

You put a little bit of pressure to your touch. B/N hissed in pain. “How about now?”

He smirked, pulling you closer to him. “Are you enjoying it?”

“You said that, not me. Come, if I remember correctly, you sort of promised to buy me a drink.” You turned around with a smile and tugged him behind you. When you reached the bar, you pushed him on to the chair and sat against him. You crossed your legs, touching his knee with yours in the process.

That whole situation was probably highly interesting for all guests in Pearl – you, someone who always watched them silently from the corner with curious eyes, were sitting with your target and sipping drink with him. Probably most of them thought that it was some kind of a plan which would grant you thrilling information for V's article. The truth was... you didn't know what you were doing. You just wanted to spend some time with him, enjoy his presence and relax a bit.

“I thought you don't drink at work,” he said finally, looking at you with curiosity. “Is it a trap or something?”

You leaned forward. “Well, no but let them think that's the case.”

“So why are doing this?”

“Maybe I'm kind of fascinated and I want to know you better.”

“I like that answer.” B/N took a sip of his whiskey and poked you with his feet. “Are you curious about something specific?”

You placed your hand near his knee and pretended to think about his question for a minute. “I am but I'm not sure if it's a good idea to even ask about those things.”

“I see that rumours about me reached this town, too. You can be sure that I'm not going to hurt you or fuck you. Unless you want me to,” he said with a smirk.

You choked on the drink, shocked but still amazed. “Are you telling me that those were true?”

“You're ignoring the last part of what I said.”

“Same with you. About what you've said... we can talk about it later.”

“The fact that you're considering it is enough for me. And answering your question, some of them are true but I'm not gonna tell you which one.” He kept quiet for a while, swirling his drink in the glass. “How about you, newspaper girl? Are you finally willing to tell me your name?”

You blinked a few times. You forgot that you never told him your name which made you burst in laugh. People looked in you direction but you ignored them. “Y/N.”

“Y/N.” The way your name left his mouth made you shudder. It sounded weirdly appealing. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ow, cheesy. Do other women fall for it?”

He laughed again. The sound was so pleasing that smile appeared on your lips, too. Even though his words were nothing but danger, he seemed cute.

“How did you become the newspaper girl?”

You took a deep breath and focused your gaze on the brown liquid in your hand. “My friend got me into this. I always loved watching people since I'm not that good with them myself. And I remember a lot of details. Details people normally don't even see. She needed someone who would give her information, someone who would be her eyes and ears. And that's exactly who I became.”

“So that's all happened because of V.”

“No, not her. She's... not my friend. I've started working with V around a year ago when Sohee left the country with her husband.”

“It seems like you're not on good terms with V.” His eyes were focused on you with so much intensity that you turned your head the other way, scared that he would sense something.

“She doesn't care about people's emotions. She loves the drama and I'm tired of it, to be honest.” That wasn't really a lie. You indeed felt overwhelmed with everything and the only person you could have blamed was you yourself. After so many years of invading people's privacy for entertainment of others you finally became exhausted. Despite your undeniable success, you weren't happy anymore. “Sometimes I wish I could leave everything and start a new life but they will never forget who I was.”

“Maybe you should leave this town?”

“And where I will go, huh?”

“I can help you if you want.” B/N's finger traced circles on your hand. His touch was warm and soothing. You closed your eyes. “You don't need to stay here.”

“Your offers are very tempting, B/N.”

His hand travelled higher, up to your elbow and he pressed on one of your veins. “Yet you're not convinced to them. Should I try something else?”

“Like what for example?”

B/N leaned closer to you. His face was so close that you felt his breath on your skin. Your heart skipped a beat and you were unable to move. When he opened his lips they almost touched yours. “What if I kiss you right now?”

The sound of laugh from your right reminded you where were you. You moved back, almost falling down from your chair. People's eyes were focused on both of you. Their sly smiles made you sick. You stood up.

“It's time for me. Thanks for the drink. And for your propositions. I will think about them.”

“Wait.” He grabbed your wrist. “Do you really need to go?”

You glanced at him with sadness. You wanted to stay, you did but you were so uncomfortable that breathing became too hard. “I'm sorry.”

Wednesday, 24th of May

Do not forget your place

B/N's charming aura enchanted every person in town. No one was able to resist it, it seems. Even our “newspaper girl” became his victim. What a joke!

If you think that I have thrilling news for you, you are wrong. She was useless yesterday, and if it was not for someone else's kindness I would not know what happened last night.

And what exactly happened? They both were so deep into conversation that they did not notice how much people laughed at “newspaper girl”. Oh and they did. It was almost like they forgot that they were not alone.

Such a stupid child.

You probably want to hear more but I have nothing to tell you.

Maybe I should find a new informer?

When you entered Pearl there were only few people inside. It was early morning and that was the first time you've ever been there so early. You ordered a drink from a confused bartender and drank it at once.

That whole situation was so hilarious – you made fun of yourself in the new article, and even though you were ready to leave, you still did it because of your fear of people finding out V's true identity. You were indeed stupid. All this time everything was fine, you felt satisfied and proud of your work, and then B/N appeared and ruined everything. He shattered your believes into pieces.

Moreover, he made you feel things you've never felt before. He pulled you to himself like a magnet. He was dangerous, that was undeniable, but it was also so arousing. Everytime you though about him your mind became clouded, heart sped up and heat blew inside you. You wanted him and you were ready to admit to it.

You laughed, finishing another glass of whiskey.

“What's so funny?” You turned around and locked eyes with B/N.

“Me,” you said, standing up. You put your hand on his chest and looked up at his lips. They were so tempting. “Are your offers still valid?”

He pulled you close to him. “Even more than yesterday.”

The way to B/N's hotel room was like a way through a fog, you didn't remember how you got there but it wasn't important. You only cared about the feeling of his arms around your waist, his persistent lips on yours and overpowering sensation between your legs. When he pushed you on the wall, breath left your lungs suddenly. You didn't even have a chance to take another one because his mouth were back on yours in a matter of seconds. He was rough, close to violent but it was more than arousing. His tangled in your hair fingers pulled you even closer to his hot body. You felt dizzy, white dots played under your eyelids from the lack of oxygen. You pressed at his chest, trying to free yourself, and he backed off a little. You gasped for air as if you were drowning and that was your last chance to take a breath.

He leaned closer and licked your lips, leaving trace of drool on them. “You still taste like whiskey.”

You grabbed him by the belt and turned him so that he was pressed to the wall now. Your fingers sneaked under the hem of his shirt and scratched his abdomen. He growled lowly, pulling your hair once again and kissed you with the same power as before. Your teeth clashed and you unconsciously digged your nails into the soft skin on his body. Your tongues danced together in perfect synchronization, and every touch left tingling feeling.

You didn't even noticed when he guided you to the bed until you softly landed on top of it. Your hand slipped from under his shirt and moved past his growing erection. He shuddered under your touch, making you clench your thighs together in response.

You wanted him, you wanted him as fast as possible.

As if he read your mind, or rather because he felt the same way, he took off his shirt almost ripping it in the process. Your fingers grabbed his belt in rush in an unsuccessful attempt to undo it. He laughed, looking at you, and took your hand in his.

“What,” you whined, glancing up.

“Maybe we should slow down?”

“But I want you.” Your voice was unexpectedly innocent even though your words weren't. B/N groaned and pulled you up. You were pressed to his naked chest and the only thing you wished for was to get rid of that damn dress. You pushed one sleeve down your shoulder, trying to signal that you want him to take it off for you. He helped you with a smirk plastered across his lips, and when you were left in only panties and stockings his grin disappeared. His eyes were full of hunger and he licked his dry lips. He didn't move even the slightest, captivated by the sight of you in front of him.

Impatiently, you shortly palmed his cock, taking in how veins on his neck pulsated aggressively. But you backed off soon after, sit down and took off your underwear, spreading your legs to the side. The speed in which he dropped to his knees made you blinked in amusement.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, coming closer to your core. His breath on your folds was hot and icy-cold at the same time. When he finally licked you, your head flew back and moan left your parted lips. His tongue danced skillfully on you, making you squirm in pleasure. He put his hand on your stomach in an attempt to steady you but you slapped it. He laughed with mouth still pressed to you. The vibration made you squeeze your legs around him.

“B/N...” you whined with shaky voice. “It feels so good but... please... fuck me already.”

He hummed, made a few more licks and stood up. He took off his trousers and underwear while looking directly into your eyes. You bit down on your lips strongly when you glanced at his hard, reddened cock.

“Move up a bit,” he ordered you, kneeling between your legs. He stopped his moves just as he was about to enter you. One of his arms was laid near your head, other was placed on your hip. His breath tickled your ear. “Do you really want it?”

You smacked his shoulder, wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer so that the tip of his erection brushed over you. Loud moan left your lips at the same time when he growled directly into your ear. “Does this count as an answer,” you asked between erratic breaths. You felt on your skin how his lips stretched in a smile, and before you were able to grabbed his arm for support, he slammed into you with so much strength that you screamed. “Oh god.”

His thrusts were steady but powerful, his every move made you arch your back in pleasure. He grabbed your hair and linked your mouth in a sloppy kiss yet that didn't stop you from moaning. It was hard to breath, your eyes were tearing up and legs started giving up. As they slowly slid from his sweaty body, he caught one of them and pinned it to his side. You broke the kiss to catch some air and in that moment B/N hit the sweet spot inside you, making you cry in ecstasy. Your nails digged into the skin on his back, certainly breaking it. He hissed in pain and put even more force into his movements.

You were losing it. Your mouth was dry, every sound you made hurt you but you were unable to stop moaning and screaming his name. Your body was hot and sticky, and your head was spinning. The feeling that built up in your abdomen was ready to unravel and you couldn't wait for it. With the remaining bits of strength you wrapped your legs around him again and pressed your heels into his butt.

“Harder.” You voice was hoarse and almost inaudible. B/N looked at your tired face with soft gaze and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand travelled to your clit and started rubbing it in a fast pace. Your breath got stuck in your throat and sudden wave of heat spreaded through your body. Your legs gave up, falling on the bed. Tears ran down your face, mixing with sweat. String of incomprehensible words left your lips when white dots clouded your vision.

B/N's moves became unsteady and clumsy. He chased his high with closed eyes, and even though everything hurt you from overstimulation, you didn't stop him. After a few more rough thrusts he came, falling on you with a loud groan.

You both lay down like that for some time, trying to catch your breath. Finally, he rolled on the side but still kept his hand on your stomach. “That was... fucking nice,” he said.

You looked at him. “Just nice, huh?”

His laugh warmed your heart. “Fucking nice, sweetheart. It's been a while since I've had such an amazing sex.”

“Yeah, same.”

Silence fell around you but in no way it was uncomfortable. It was that nice kind of silence where only your breaths could have been heard. You closed your eyes, suddenly unable to keep them open.

“Hey,” he spoken up, “what about my second offer? Are you ready to leave writing for newspaper and come with me?”

You sat up, shocked. “How...?”

He followed your moves and gently pushed loose strands of hair from your face. “From the beginning it was weird for me. It felt that the more you became interested in me, the less information you gave to people. And V, according to what you said, loves the drama. If she had another informer the last time why he didn't give her any insight in what was happening earlier?”

“Shit.” Heat rushed to your cheeks and you were sure that they became red. You tried to cover yourself but B/N pulled you to his chest, laughing loudly.

“You're cute.” His fingers were tracing circles on your shoulders. “So what about that other offer?”

You looked at him with sweet smile. “When are we leaving?”

Thursday, 25th of May

Nothing lasts forever

Hello, dear citizens. Unfortunately, this is the last article in that section. And it will not be your usual text. Below we are inserting a letter from “newspaper girl” or V, if you wish.

Editorial team

* Where should I start?

Should I tell you my real identity?

Should I reveal that “newspaper girl” and V are the same person?

Should I make you aware of the fact that you all are so naive and clueless?

By now you probably know this.

You think of yourself so high and mighty yet a girl like me fooled you. And it didn't happen once! I was deceiving you for almost a year. As soon as I wrote my first article you became so scared of me. It was weird but funny at the same time.

All you ever wanted was hot news, you've never really cared about people behind those stories. Neither do I.

But it changed at some point and I became sick of you.

I'm leaving this town and I won't come back ever again.

You need to find another attraction.

Goodbye.

Newspaper Girl or V. or Y/N

(however you want to remember me) *

#nct scenarios #bts scenarios #exo scenarios #stray kids scenarios #smut #romance #nct smut #bts smut #exo smut #bias x reader #optional bias #historical au #i guess #but not really

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seeaddywrite · 6 years ago

Note

MOAR Michael and Isobel, please!

i legit spent five minutes wondering what you meant by more, because i’d totally forgotten that isobel & michael got some quality time together in the fic i wrote where michael was ‘dying.’ so, here you go! i hope this is what you wanted.

When Michael’s got Noah secured in his lab, surrounded by nullifying powder he’d repurposed from the batch used to trap him and Max just a few days prior, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Restless energy burns under his skin, the need to do something, anything, impossible to ignore. But the other man is unconscious, and will likely remain so for a while as Liz’s antidote does its work. Thus, Michael knows he’s not getting any answers that night, which only increases the desperation to act. He’s too late to save the woman in the cell at Cauffield – his mother, with those desolate, pain-filled eyes and the simple, grief-soaked words she’d managed to push through to him. I love you, my son. Now run.

The words have replayed over and over in Michael’s head, drowning out all of the usual noise and chaos until he wants to scream. He wants it all to stop, wants to drown the images and the pain out with as much whiskey and acetone as his body can take. But Maria’s avoiding him, so the Wild Pony is off limits, and his own stash of booze ran dry when Alex came back to town.

Alex. Michael flinches away from the thought of the other man; he’s not stable enough to even begin parsing everything that had passed between them today. It’s too much, on top of everything else, and Michael’s afraid his tentative calm would shatter if he even tried. So drinking’s out, drowning out the noise in his head with great sex is out, and going to Max is definitely fucking out – he’s understands why his brother did what he did, but there’s something about having a gun pointed at his head that makes him leery of going back. Even if picking a fight with Max has been one of his favorite distractions for a decade.

That leaves one other person, and Michael knows he shouldn’t do it. Isobel has enough on her plate – she’s suffering, too, in trying to deal with Noah’s betrayal and the fact that her bodily autonomy had been stripped from her. She’s been living a lie for years, and she needs time and space to recover from it. And the last thing she needs, Michael is certain, is him showing up at her door right now.

But beyond Max, Isobel, Alex, and Maria, Michael’s got no one. Without them, he’s so fucking alone that he feels like he could throw his head back and scream without anyone noticing – he could wind up dead at the bottom of a gorge and no one would even care, aside from maybe lamenting his wasted potential. And if there’s one thing Michael can’t stand, it’s total isolation; he needs people, needs his family, even if he hates to admit it.

So he winds up at Isobel’s, on foot, a few hours later. He lingers on the porch, trying to figure out if he’ll be welcome or not - there are plenty of reasons for Isobel to ask him to leave, after all, if she even talks to him. Max would’ve called her by now, warned her that Michael’s lost his damn mind and given the man she wants dead the means to save himself. She’ll know that Michael has Noah trussed up in his lab, and has no intention of allowing anyone to harm him until he gets the answers he’s looking for – and Michael doesn’t know if she’ll forgive him. God knows she has all the right in the world to want the man who betrayed her dead, after all. But Michael can’t give her that, just like he can’t get the sight of his mother’s soft smile out of his head. Watching another of their people die, even if he is a psychopath, isn’t something Michael is prepared for. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to pick up the pieces afterward, this time.

“Are you planning on brooding out there in the cold all night, or are you coming inside?” Isobel’s voice is sharp, and Michael flinches in surprise. He looks up at her and something inside of him crumbles. She’s wearing a pair of sweats too long and wide to be her own. and a long t-shirt he thinks he recognizes from his own closet. He scrutinizes it for a moment, and yep, there’s the oil stain from Mrs. Carrerra’s old Buick on the hem. The sweats are probably Max’s; Isobel has never taken to loneliness very well, and clings unrepentantly to her brothers in times of crisis. Michael’s always envied her the ability to reach out and take the affection she needs – he’s never been able to ask, no matter how much he wanted to.

Michael opens his mouth to respond, then closes it again, and just follows Isobel through the porch doors and into the living room she’d designed for her and Noah to share when they first moved in. He sits down on the arm of the couch, shoulders hunched, while she takes over the cushions and wraps a blanket around herself. They sit in silence for a moment – until Isobel breaks. Because even in the midst of all this tragedy, she isn’t good at silence. “I was trying to call you all day,” she tells him, expression pinched. “Not just to tell you about Noah. I could feel you.” There’s a moment of hesitation, and she swallows, looking away fro him. Michael frowns, because Isobel is never shy, or afraid to say what’s on her mind. “I can still feel you. And you’re breaking my heart, so will you just get over here and let me hug you already?”

The chuckle that startles from him is short and strangled, but more than he’s managed since watching Cauffield go up in flames. He lifts his gaze from his knees to look at Isobel, who’s watching him expectantly with her arms spread wide. She’s the best of them at hiding how she’s feeling, Michael knows – her powers don’t go haywire, and she’s good at wearing masks in public. For Isobel, her entire life is a costume, and always has been, but now, the props have begun to come up missing, and the theater is burning down around her. Yet here she is, holding out her arms to Michael, despite what he’s done.

“Did Max –”

“If you’re about to bring up the fact that you have my murdering soon-to-be ex-husband tied up somewhere, don’t,” Isobel snaps. “I know, okay? But I can’t decide to hug your or hit you for saving him, because there’s some demented part of my subconscious that’s still in love with him.” Her voice cracks, and Michael has never been able to deny Isobel anything when she cries. Their relationship has always been so much simpler than his with Max; Isobel has always been in his corner, has always been a willing hand to hold or partner in crime, and he loves her. It’s why he’d been willing to let her believe him a murderer, rather than know the truth, and why half of his life has been dedicating to keeping her safe and happy.

So Michael slides down into the couch and takes her into his arms, hugging her gently against his chest. The familiar smell of her floral shampoo against his nose relaxes something tense within him, and he buries his face in the top of her head, trying to stop himself from dissolving into tears alongside her.

They stay like that for longer than Michael can keep track of time, until Isobel lifts her tear-stained face and wipes away the wetness on her cheeks determinedly. “No,” she says firmly, and Michael’s pretty sure she’s talking to herself more than him. “I am done crying over that son of a bitch. He doesn’t deserve it.” Clear green eyes focus on Michael, narrowing slightly. “And don’t think this gets you out of telling me what the hell you’re thinking, giving him his powers back. I am mad at you. He wore me around like a cheap suit and used my hands to –” She trails off, voice wavering again, but plows on determinedly, as Isobel always does. “But I’m choosing to believe that you have a good reason. And Max is, too, by the way. He’s been beating himself up for pulling that gun since he let you go.”

Michael swallows, and addresses the easiest of those topics first. “Max was never going to shoot me,” he says certainly. “And it’s not like I don’t get it.” Unleashing a mind-warping serial killer on the town is definitely worth a gun, even if in reality, it hit Michael like a blow in the chest that his brother really believed that he would ever let him loose, knowing what he’s done.

“Then why’d you do it?” Isobel asks, and her voice is unexpectedly gentle. He glances up at her, surprised by the change in attitude, and finds a faraway quality in her eyes that he recognizes. She’s in his head, or at least picking up on the emotions he knows he’s bound to be broadcasting. Part of him flinches away from the intimacy of such a thing; he doesn’t want anyone in his head, not even Isobel. But he knows he won’t be able to say the words aloud, or get through any succinct explanation of the day’s events without losing his mind – and there are way too many breakables in Michael’s house for him to let go like that.

“Iz,” he tries, but she’s already shaking her head, and leaning back in to rest her head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she tells him, taking one of his work-roughened hands between both of her soft ones. It’s not the scarred one, thank God, because Michael doesn’t know if he can handle thinking of that particular tragedy right now – he’s got enough circulating in his brain. Even now, the gentleness with which Isobel handles him threatens to break all of the walls he’s erected around today’s experiences, and the lump in his throat is rapidly growing past the point where it can be denied. “Whatever it is, Michael, I’m right here. You don’t have to tell me. Just let me in.”

The images that have been threatening to overwhelm him all day won’t be denied. He breaks her grip on his hand and grips her wrist instead, needing the anchor as the pain and horror and shock of the day wash over him in a wave, decimating his walls like an angry tsunami. He can feel her with him as he relives it all, from Alex’s visit to his trailer to the moment he grasped his mother’s hand in the hell-hole, and her body trembles where it’s slumped against his somewhere in the midst of the memories. Michael wants to stop, to withdraw and check on her, but as always, he’s powerless against the noise in his head. The memories keep playing – Michael’s determination to stay with that woman, no matter what his fate, Alex’s insistence that he’s family, that he loves him – and finally, that whisper in his head. I love you, my son. Now run. And then he’s watching the building burn in front of him, his body shaking, and the desolation and anger he felt then swamps him again, spilling into Isobel.

Michael comes back to himself slowly, and finds that now, he’s half horizontal on the couch, his jean-clad legs splayed in front of him on the cushions while his entire torso is being held up by Isobel’s body. Her arms around around his neck, and she’s crying into his hair, sobbing apologies and her own fury as she tries to comfort him. It helps, strangely, to know that someone else is morning his mother as he is – sharing the load lightens it, though Michael knows better than to think it’s anywhere enough.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, surprised to find his voice hoarse. “You didn’t need to –”

“Shut up,” Isobel tells him, sniffling. “I’ll come with you, tomorrow. To talk to Noah. He might -” she makes a disgusted face, trying to mop the wetness from her face with her sleeve. It doesn’t mask her emotional turmoil, but Isobel doesn’t do vulnerable well. That’s something Michael’s always understood about her. “He might be willing to talk to me. And if he’s not, I’ll get in his head and I’ll make him give you the answers you want. And if he knew about that place, I really will be a murderer.”

For some reason, hearing Isobel voice the same thoughts Michael has had himself shocks him, and he shakes his head vehemently. “No, Iz. You’re no killer. And I don’t – I don’t think I can –”

Isobel looks at him thoughtfully, and runs a shaking hand over his hair. “You don’t want anyone else to die,” she summarizes, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know what other options we have, Michael, but I don’t think either of us is up for trying to figure it out tonight.” She glances around the room, and grabs the blanket behind her to cover them both with it. It’s probably an awkward position for her, with Michael leaning so heavily on her thin frame, but she doesn’t make any effort to move him. Again, he’s struck with how much he loves Isobel -he may never have felt like he belonged on earth when he wasn’t with Alex, but he’s never questioned his place in his sister’s life, or her place in his. And that, he realizes, is something he can’t let himself take for granted anymore.

“Will you stay here tonight?” she asks finally, and Michael’s never been so grateful for a subject change in his life. He catches a breath – he’s been holding it, he realizes belatedly – and nods immediately. He’s not sure if she’s making the offer because she can tell that the idea of being alone makes him want to yank his hair out, or because she genuinely doesn’t want to suffer by herself, either, but Michael doesn’t think it matters. In all reality, it’s probably a combination of both, and that’s best. That way, they can look after each other.

“Great,” Isobel says, and there’s a glint of mischief in her tone that surprises Michael. He turns his head to look at her, warily, trying to figure out what she’s playing at. “Then you can tell me all about Alex Manes, and why I had no idea that you’re in love with him.”

Michael drops his head against the couch and groans, borderline hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat. And, god help him, he tells her everything, letting her share the last of his secrets with him. As midnight turns to early morning, and the sun begins to peek over the desert horizon, Michael finally feels himself begin to relax, and thinks that maybe, just maybe, they’re going to make it through this. Both of them.

#roswellnm fanfiction #isobel evans & michael guerin #family fic #post 1X12 #gen prompts #my fic #gen fic

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codyfernaesthetic · 6 years ago

Text

Dichotomy

Part 10

Summary: No one is completely honest. No one is above desperate actions.

Author’s note: Enjoy!

Michael sat staring out his office window, leaving the reports and papers abandoned on his desk; a common occurrence since, like a complete fool, he brought Mallory to the Sanctuary. He would muse, something he was loathe to do while working, on how she’d taken the first consistent period of his life where he felt in control and completely rent it asunder with those soft, delicate hands…

He slammed his fist onto the desk like a temperamental child; he despised how she’d turned him into a desperate mess. The way she’d confessed her grief to him had taken a scalpel to his calloused heart and made him remember...made him face his still very real grief over Mead...the real one. The one who took him in, a lonely, abandoned child; the one who would joke and laugh with him, the one who’s embrace was warm and genuine.

Mallory was grieved at Coco’ death but kept going, no desire for revenge, no need to dig up the dead. He envied her that. He wished Mead’s charred corpse tied to a stake wasn’t buried into his mind. Maybe that was why he wouldn’t let Mallory see Coco. He knew what it was like to stare such crushing reality in the face. He spared her that, which made him smile in a rueful way; she was inspiring kindness in him even then.

He wanted to see her again. He wanted her gentle brown eyes to look at him like...he was worthy of compassion. He wanted to touch her again, to wipe away the tears, to have the warmth of her skin under his fingertips; reminding him what it was like to be a real human being. He wanted... to kiss her. God, what a simple thought that seared his brain; what an innocent inclination for the Antichrist to have, how dirty it felt to him, how taboo and forbidden.

“Michael, that girl is dangerous,” the robot had told him.

He shook his head, grimacing.

“Michael, that girl is dangerous,” the robot his Ms. Mead had told him.

He covered his face, a tear escaping his eye, disobeying his will.

“Michael, that girl is dangerous,” the robot his Ms. Mead she had told him, helping him off the dining room floor after his disastrous meal.

“Whatever she is, she has to be destroyed before she destroys you.”

“It’s not that easy,” he’d said. A half-lie.

“You’re the Antichrist. What could possibly be difficult about killing one little girl?”

He faced her, “You saw what happened at the Outpost. She didn’t just survive the poison, she came back to life; somehow she crawled back up from the pits of hell and got even stronger than before.”

He brushed past her, making his way to the living room. She followed.

“If I recall correctly, you have the ability to destroy souls, to erase them from existence. Can’t you do that?”

He rubbed his temple, “She’s not a normal soul.”

“How?”

He refused to look at her, “I don’t know.”

————————————

Mead reported this to the Cooperative.

The problem with manufacturing a human-like Android, is that her ultimate loyalties will always lie with her creators; that’s simply how she’s manufactured. Even though the two idiots who made her directly, Mutt and Jeff, were in the Sanctuary, still snorting coke and banging hot socialites, they were only a small part; their technology belonged to the Cooperative, and therefore so did Mead. And when the Cooperative noticed Michael’s sudden change in behavior, and his refusal to even listen to their plans to establish his dynasty in place, they knew the only way to get inside his head was through his mother-bot.

“Langdon has...perhaps let his delusions of grandeur blind him to the real benefits of your plan.”

The robot Mead She told them this in their boardroom, 20 silver masks staring back at her.

“It’s not his own delusions,” one said, “It’s that girl he brought with him from Outpost 3.”

Mumbles of agreement scattered out among them.

The robot Mead She contended, “Would she at all be a good candidate for creating this...dynasty you speak of?”

Despite Michael’s explanation that it was Satan who stopped the sacrifice that night in the Temple, surely they see past that, the robot Mead she thought.

“Absolutely not!” Another cried, “She’s already proven to be dangerous, somehow she’s gotten Langdon wrapped around her finger. Who knows what she’ll make him do if this continues?”

“We need Langdon to see his purpose again,” a silver mask from the back piped up, “All we’re asking is that you convince him that the Cooperative’s goals are in his benefit.”

“Which they are.” The robot Mead the robot Mead she said.

“Of course,” they answered.

The robot Mead she…...ERROR…..The robot Mead she The robot mEaD sHe……..ERROR…….Tttttttttttttttttttttttttttthhhheee robot Mead she The robot Mead she……...ERROR…….The robot Mead sHE The robot Meeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaadddddddddd she The robot Mead she The robottttttttttttttttttttttttttttt Mead she……………….ERROR ERROR ERROR……………...THe robot Mead she The RObot Mead she The ROBOt Mead she The robot Mead she ERROR ERROR ERROR……………...

With an almost imperceptible twitch, theROBOTMEADSHEROBOTMEADSHEROBOTROBOTROBOTROBOTROBOTROBOTROBOTROBOTERRORERRORERRORERRORERRORERRORERRORERRO

“I’ll do whatever I need to.”

———————————

Mallory told Rhoda everything after waking up. Her identity as a witch, Cordelia, the coven...Rhoda was amazed. She wanted Mallory to tell her all about spells and magic. Was it anything like the fairytales? Did they all wear pointy hats? Mallory laughed and explained whatever she could think of. Rhoda was so happy. Seeing the light in Mallory’s eyes, the passion and joy that she’d lacked for so long radiating from her like the warmth of the sun, made her so very happy for her friend.

Rhoda was terrified.

She had no choice but to report to Langdon. He probably saw Mallory in her unusual state before Rhoda had, he would be expecting a report. She dared not think of what he’d do to her or Mallory if she failed to tell him soon.

She’d told Mallory she would go and retrieve them lunch, hoping that she wouldn’t insist on going as well. To her relief, she didn’t. But of course not, she trusted her friend Rhoda.

She plodded on her way to Langdon’s office, her steps and heart heavy as lead. As she neared the closed door, she saw someone in the room standing before the desk through the window, Langdon appearing bored by whatever they were saying.

An urge took over her. She placed a hand on the door.

“We even believe we have a rather perfect match, Lord Langdon,” the room was soundproof, but their voices sounded in Rhoda’s mind clear as if they were right next to her.

“Either of the Koehler twins would be suitable,” the visitor continued, a man’s voice, “Their genetics are impeccable.”

A pause. Langdon replied, “As brilliant as you people claim to be, you have such naïve, simple understanding. I am in no danger of dying, you can rest assured.” “Of course not, Lord Langdon. The Cooperative simply believes—“ “The Cooperative is under my direct authority, and owes its very existence to my Father and I.” Another pause.

“Yes, Lord Langdon,”

Rhoda stepped back, staring at the door. She’d been designed with perfect hearing, but...not enough to nullify a soundproof room.

The door opened, an Indian man, average height, balding with horn-rimmed glasses made a small noise of surprise upon seeing Rhoda. He recovered and pushed past her with an air of frustration. She stood at the threshold, the door cracked enough for Langdon’s form to be seen staring down at his nails, utterly bored.

“Come in, Rhoda.”

She stepped inside and closed the door, the air in the room thick.

“News?” He didn’t look up at her.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, her throat filled with sand.

Painfully slow, hemet her gaze, a smile, cold and betraying murderous eyes, “Do you bring news of Miss Mallory, Rhoda?”

She nodded. Her fingers trembled.

“Miss Mallory was...behaving strangely after returning to her apartment yesterday..”

“I’m sure. Did she inform you of our calamitous evening?”

Pins and needles crawled up her spine, “No, my Lord. She didn’t.”

He frowned at that, “Behaving strangely, how so?”

“She was babbling nonsense, staring off into nothing. Then she...fainted, waking up moments later in a daze.”

Her tone was even, steady. Relaying information, nothing more.

That “nonsense” was Latin, the thought popped in her mind, like it was pulled out against her will. She quickly tore it to shreds, praying he wasn’t spying in on her thoughts.

He stood and walked to the edge of the desk in one fluid motion, “Upon waking, did she say anything about her actions? Why she was behaving so strangely?”

She almost flinched at his biting emphasis, but kept a neutral expression.

“No, my Lord. She has been oddly quiet since then. I have asked her to tell me, but she becomes volatile when pushed.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

His eyes were trained on her. She’d said it too fast, to precise, he knew he had to know—

“That must hurt you a little bit.”

She breathed deeply through her nose, “My Lord?”

He took three long steps to the front of the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed, now right in front of her.

“After having grown so close, for her to simply not tell you something so obviously distressing her must be painful.”

He straightened, “Do you think she might not trust you as much as you’d thought, Rhoda?”

She gulped, subtly she hoped, “Miss Mallory is a kind person, but I suppose some things she’d like to keep to herself.”

He nodded, his face feigning understanding, “Of course,” he held up his forefinger, shaking it like an owner to a naughty pet, “But that won’t do, Rhoda.”

She petrified when he closed more distance between them, “I tasked you with finding me answers and so far,” he traced his outstretched finger from her temple to jaw, “I’ve not received anything useful.”

Her legs felt week. She held her breath.

“Will I have to resort to more…” his hand suddenly closed around neck, “intense measures to gain information?”

“No, my Lord,” she wheezed, “I will continue to question her.”

“That’s not good enough, Rhoda.” He growled.

He held her there for another moment before dropping his hand, walking back to his chair with disgust.

“Get out.”

She closed the door behind her, walking a few feet away before taking in gulps of air against the wall.

———————————-

A few days past without a word from Langdon. Rhoda didn’t know whether that was good or bad news. But she hoped Mallory could get strong enough to fight if she needed to. She would spend hours trying to control her powers, testing what she could do. Rhoda insisted she take a break, that she was pushing herself too hard. Mallory eventually took her advice and slipped into her bedroom, Rhoda closing the door to keep disturbances to a minimum. A knock came to the door not long after. Lydia stood there with a fake plastered smile, making Rhoda’s stomach turn.

“I’m sorry, Miss Mallory is unavailable at the moment.”

She frowned, “Why not?”

“She’s taking a nap.”

Lydia had already rushed past her, waving her hand dismissively, “Well, this won’t take long. I accidentally left something of mine here on my last visit.”

She spent a moment looking all around the little room, Rhoda watching from the side.

But she didn’t miss the older woman slipping something into her pocket.

“Well,” she huffed, “I don’t know where it could’ve gone.”

Rhoda produced a pair of fabric scissors, “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Lydia paused before chuckling, “Ah yes, thank you.”

She managed to get out the door, babbling about telling Mallory she stopped by, when Rhoda spat out.

“What has Lord Langdon ordered you to do?”

She turned, “I’m sorry?”

Rhoda stepped out of the apartment, pulling the door closed, “Your excuse about wanting a new muse was a lie. What have you been ordered to do?”

She dropped the facade, “Lord Langdon has eyes everywhere, and he wants to know if his kingdom is running smoothly, if any threats arise. And I think a pretty significant one has.”

Rhoda got in her face, “If you hurt, Mallory—“

Lydia pushed her back, “My loyalty is to Langdon. He says jump, I say how high. He says spy on some nobody from Outpost who-gives-a-shit, I say what am I looking for. It seems you’ve been holding out on him. And once Mallory is taken care of, what do you think will happen to you?”

Rhoda’s eyes were burning with rage, earning Lydia’s mockery, “Oh, you got yourself a best friend, and all of a sudden, you have a backbone? Remember your place, servant.”

She started strutting down the hall. Rhoda tightened her fists.

She appeared in front of Lydia, stopping her in her tracks. In a blink, she was 10 feet away from where she had been standing. Lydia started to speak, but shut her mouth. Rhoda willed her to shut her mouth and walk to her, reaching into her pocket and dropping a tiny black square in her outheld palm; a recording device, she assumed. Lydia’s eyes were wide, confused and scared at no longer having control.

Rhoda didn’t let up.

She commanded Lydia to keep walking all the way to the elevator. Rhoda followed behind. She made Lydia board it, frozen in the middle of the small space. Rhoda’s hand slowly raised, the doors closing.

She threw her arm down. The elevator descending with fatal speed, crashing on the bottom floor, cleanly snapping Lydia’s neck.

She knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed for very long. She slipped back into the apartment, the sleeping Mallory none the wiser. The device between her fingers, she glared at it; electric currents spiked and twisted, setting the tiny black box on fire.

#michael langdon #mallory #millory #millory fanfic #ahs apocalypse #ahs michael #ahs mallory #michael langdon fanfic #miriam mead #cody fern #billie lourd #kathy bates #ahs coven #seven wonders #supreme

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dat-town · 6 years ago

Text

The Mandela Effect | Prologue

Summary: When Jin leaves without an explanation, you follow him through universes without hesitation, not caring about the consequences. But is it really worth it?

Setting: the “reality“ - can you guess which BTS concept it is?

Warning: mentioned death

Words: 1.75k

Chapter index

Jin was gone.

Your boyfriend of two years left a note saying Sorry and then he simply left.

No, he didn’t break up with you. He didn’t move out of your apartment. He didn’t take any of his belongings but he was gone from this world.

Because Kim Seokjin had a special ability: he resonated with the existence itself and he could not only travel back in time but switch between parallel universes.

“It’s like having a wardrobe with drawers and I decide which one I open,” he explained when he first showed you his power. He took you back in time a bit, nothing major, only a few hours tops on a lazy Sunday but he said even the lightest stir in the water can lead to drastic consequences.

“Which one is real?” you looked up at him, resting your chin on his firm chest as the two of you chilled on the worn couch of his living room. Your index finger drew mindless patterns and figures into the material of his soft sweater just over his heart.

“All of them. None of them. It doesn’t matter,” he smiled softly with fingers stroking your hair, brushing the stray locks away from your eyes. “If you believe in it, it’s real.”

You hummed, understanding in a way, but ever so curious you still had questions.

“Have you met me in other universes?”

“I haven’t been in other universes since I met you in this one but I’m pretty sure every single one of me out there would fall in love with the you in their world,” Jin whispered caressing your cheek gently and you felt those familiar happy bubbles in your stomach.

“Aww you are so cheesy!” you hit him on the shoulder out of second-hand embarrassment but didn't resist at all when he grabbed your wrist and intertwined your fingers.

“You love it,” he flashed a cheeky smile and you shut him up with a kiss.

You were happy. You lived a simple life in which you didn't have much but you were together. You were the envied couple of the block. It was all close to perfect. So why? Why did he decided to leave? Was it because of Jungkook’s accident? It wasn’t his fault. Even the younger boy currently healing in the hospital didn't blame him. Or was it maybe because of what Tae did? Most of all, why didn’t he tell you the reason? Did he expect you to just accept his decision and move on? Then he didn’t know you well enough. You never gave up without a fight.

You were knocking on Namjoon’s trailer’s door for half an hour when the boy showed up behind you carrying antiseptic and a few bottles of beer. Not much of a grocery. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. He must have taken another double shift at the gas station to pay for Taehyung's bail.

“Hey, whatcha need?” Namjoon fixed the beanie over his ears, pushing his dark blonde hair more onto his forehead

“Have you seen Jin lately?” you blurted out, quick to get on the topic.

“Not since the funeral. Why?” the boy searched for his keys, they rang as they clinked together. The cute keychain from Namsan Tower reminded you of happy times but the word funeral left a bitter taste in your mouth, metallic like blood.

You remembered that day clearly. The rain pouring down like tears. The salty taste of a cold kiss. You remembered when you had gotten the news in the middle of your dinner date with Jin. He’d taken the call and as he’d anxiously answered, the grief and sorrow you had seen in his eyes had been haunting you for long. Just like that your perfect little life had taken a 180 degrees turn and nothing had been the same ever since. You small group of friends started to fall apart.

“I talked with the others. Nobody has seen him in the last three days. I tried not to worry but today I found a folded paper with Sorry on it and I…” you rambled and you knew you rambled but you didn’t care. None of the other boys could help, not even his family had any idea where he could be. But if he wasn’t here, then he must have been somewhere out there, beyond the edges of this universe.

“You think he jumped,” Namjoon nodded, finishing your sentence and you gaped at him, at the casualty he mentioned this option as he invited you in his modest home.

“You know about that?”

“You didn’t think you were the only one, did you? We have known him for longer.”

He was right, of course, but since nobody ever mentioned it out loud, you kind of assumed it was a secret.

“What do you think he’s doing?” you asked as you stopped by the kitchen counter worriedly eyeing all the dirty dishes in the sink. Namjoon put the beer pack into the almost empty fridge and he sighed.

“I have no idea but I hope he doesn’t try to fix this mess because it will only get worse.”

As he plunked down on an old armchest massaging his temple, you felt sorry for him. Not pity, but empathy. You shared his pain and you didn’t want to add to the list of his troubles but this thing with Jin really bugged you. It was so out of character, he wasn’t like this and it had you sick with worry. You had to do something.

“Namjoon, do you perhaps know… if it’s possible for me to go after him?” you asked tentatively and the boy, he looked at you so hopeless. He tore a piece of paper off the local newspaper and scribbled something down on the job section in his messy handwriting.

“Go to Hyungwon, he might know how,” he hand it over to you and you left after a few grateful words.

It was an address. The location of an old-fashioned clock store downtown. You took a deep breath and stepped in. A bell rang above the door and chills ran down your back immediately. Inside of the shop, there was a young man in suit repairing a broken watch behind the counter. Even though it was polite to greet customers, he didn’t pay attention to you at all.

“Sorry… I’m looking for someone called Hyungwon,” your steps halted in front of him, voice just a bit uncertain.

“Well, you found him,” the shop assistant stood up, straightening his back and offering an awkward smile. “How can I help you?”

On your way here, you had practiced your request over and over again but now that you stood face to face with the actual person, the words didn’t come out. Your monologue sounded absurd even to you but you gave it a chance anyway.

“Uuh it might sound crazy but my boyfriend can go to parallel universes and…”

“Oooh a reflection traveller. I haven’t met one in a while,” Hyungwon hummed, not one bit shaken up. He lazily played with the cuff links on his suit. “He can go back in time too, right? But not before his birth.”

“Uh yes,” you blinked trying to overcome your surprise. Of course, he knew about these things! Otherwise Namjoon wouldn’t have suggested him. “So he left without an explanation and I want to find him.”

“Where is his body?” the man asked in an urgent manner but it annoyed you a bit. Didn’t he hear what you just told him?

“Like I said he’d left so I don’t know. I checked everywhere he could be but he’s gone.”

“That’s not good. He did an entire-being projection,” Hyungwon drew the conclusion as a professional but you were slightly confused. He probably noticed it because he started explaining the concept right away. “You know, normally if someone switches between universes, it’s only the conscience. The body stays in the original place, sleeping or in comatose state depending on the duration of their leave but if he jumped physically too, he’ll erase himself from this universe if he doesn’t come back. For how long has he been gone?”

“It’s the fourth day.”

“Not good,” he repeated tilting his head from left to right. “I would give it two weeks and he won’t exist here anymore which means he can’t come back.”

Suddenly, you felt faint, legs giving up, so you had to grab the counter to prevent the fall. You had to be stronger than that or you couldn’t help anyone.

“Is there a way I can prevent it? Bring him home?” you asked almost desperately, pleading eyes settling on Hyungwon.

“You know... maybe he had a good reason to go,” he said lightly as if trying not to hurt your feelings and preparing you for the worst outcomes. But nothing could have been worse than this painful void he left without excuses.

“Then he should tell me.”

For a long, quiet minute the shop assistant looked at you strangely, ponderingly, waiting for you to change your mind but when you didn’t, he took out a wooden box from a drawer. Inside of it there was a non-conventional, elegant watch.

“Since the universes are parallel lines or rather dimensions, you can either go back or forth,” he pointed to the two buttons on either sides of the clock face. “You can only switch once every twenty-four hours. Lucky for you even a reflection traveller can’t skip universes so you might catch up to him. Time is a funny thing when you travel, so don’t forget you have two weeks to come back or both of you will be erased from here.”

“Thank you,” you took the special watch carefully and put it on. It made you feel nervous for some reason. You had never travelled between universes before and Jin warned you about some brutal ones. But you couldn’t give up now. What if he got stuck somewhere and he didn’t know how to get back to you?

“Good luck,” Hyungwon nodded towards you with a forced smile before he glanced at the watch on your left wrist.

You had no time to waste. Jin had some explaining to do and you were ready to drag him home if you had to. You inhaled the dusty air of the shop one last time and pushed the glowing forth button without hesitation.

For a moment nothing happened and then everything went black.

>> Next universe

#btswriters #bts writing squad #kkreationsnet #bangtan bookclub #angstykpopnet #stories #series: the mandela effect #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts fanfic

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fiore-della-valle · 7 years ago

Note

for the ship meme: you know the one

I hope you meant Threegulls, Rabbitt, because left to my own devices it’s always gonna be Threegulls. (If I am wrong, though, y’know, I can always keep guessing until I get it right. XD )

Fake Dating:

So, really, Audrey was handling it okay, when the town was overrun by fae. Or at least, as well as anybody could, when dealing with an inexplicable variety of beings with widely varying abilities and seriously inscrutable social boundaries. She had retrieved three stolen children and talked two different beings into turning eight separate citizens of Haven back into human beings (and she was really hoping that she just hadn’t been paying enough attention to the grove of trees next to the park, and that there had always been nine of them, not eight) and solved a riddle of logic to claim right of passage down the main roads for everyone in a HPD uniform.

She had it under control, was the point.

Right up until one of the creatures- tall and thin and pale, with unearthly eyes and a literal glow about them, beautiful and terrible in the way of dreams- smiled at Nathan with knife-sharp teeth and beckoned, and his eyes went blank as he moved to follow.

She didn’t plan it; she didn’t think. But she’d been dealing with the fae for two days, already, and maybe she was still struggling to figure out all the rules, but at least she’d figured out that there were rules, and she’d snapped the words before Nathan had taken three steps. “You can’t have him, he’s mine!”

Even knowing that technically, the fae weren’t real and thus, couldn’t hurt her did not stop the shiver of fear that swept up her spine at the furious screech in response, but she held her ground, and her claim, and in the end, the being retreated and Nathan blinked in confusion when Audrey took his hand and held.

It was more deliberate, the second time. The creature at the Gull was slightly less terrifying than the first; even immune to his glamour, Audrey could see the appeal, and his flirtations were playful, entreating rather than commanding. It didn’t stop the swell of anger that rose in her chest when Duke flirted back, nor the flicker of fear when the creature reached across the bar as though he had a right to touch.

He argued, voice soft and reasonable, eyes hard and cold and black as night, when Audrey asserted her claim. Warned her in a velvet threat that it was unwise to lie to those like him. Audrey tightened her grip on Duke’s wrist, and met those empty eyes, and politely told him to find somewhere else to be.

She locked the door after him, and met the worried gazes of her boys, and lifted her chin. “Until this is done? I don’t care who or what you’re talking to, you’re with me.”

The glance they exchange between them spoke volumes, but they knew better than to argue.

Bodyswap:

(So, pretending that canon didn’t actually give us a bodyswap...)

The first thought they all have is exactly the same: this is not my bedroom.

The next thought varies.

Nathan has a moment of groggy confusion, trying to puzzle out how he wound up in Duke’s bed; it doesn’t quite cross into alarm, though he doesn’t remember going over to the Rouge the night before. Still, it isn’t the first time he’s woken up there, even if he usually winds up on the couch. It isn’t until he realizes that he can feel the softness of worn cotton and body heat that he jolts fully awake.

Audrey knows by the second breath that something is very wrong; she can’t feel it, can’t feel the sheets or the mattress that creaks when she moves, and the sense of vulnerability is staggering. She’s still not used to her immunity being compromised, and this is not a great first Trouble.

Duke resolutely closes his eyes, and tries to go back to sleep; if he’s waking up in Audrey’s bed, he’s clearly still dreaming, and he’d like to linger in the half-awake space of infinite potential as long as he possibly can.

Audrey calls her own phone, numb fingers trembling slightly as she dials.

Duke hears a ringtone that doesn’t belong to him, and grumbles a complaint in Audrey’s voice, and really, it’s a pleasant dream, it’s a nice thought, that workaholic Audrey might be reluctant to get out of bed. He is definitely going to stay in the moment as long as he can.

Audrey swears, and it’s almost funny hearing the words in Nathan’s gruff tones. She’s using Nathan’s phone, so calling that won’t help her. Duke’s number is the next one in the call history after her own. Convenient, since he’s her next call anyway.

Nathan hears Duke’s phone ring, and reaches for it. The fact that he can feel the vibrations in the fingertips that aren’t his makes him grin, even if he knows he should be worried about this. It could be worse; his limbs are all about the length he expects, at least, and maybe it’s been years since he was young enough and naive enough to envy Duke so much that he’d want to switch places with him, but something in him is still intrigued by the possibilities.

Still, it’s a little jarring when he picks up the phone and it’s his own voice on the other end, demanding “Duke?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause after his “Not exactly,” and Nathan starts to feel a rush of doubt- he’d just assumed that if he’d swapped with Duke, Duke had likewise swapped with him. The idea of it being anyone else in his skin is uncomfortable.

“Who is this?” his own voice demands, and it is strange to be on the wrong end of that tone.

It’s even stranger to hear Duke’s voice say his name with none of the usual weight or emphasis- he hadn’t realized just how much personality there was in the way Duke spoke to him.

Audrey is relieved to have located Nathan, at least.

Duke ignores the phone the first and second time it rings, but by the third time, it’s impossible to pretend it’s a noise out of a dream. He turns over to reach for it, and misses that call because he’s too busy having a brief panic and briefer ethical debate at the sight of hands that are definitely not his. Audrey’s phone shows four missed calls from Nathan- wonderful.

“You’d better be calling with an explanation, Nate,” he complains in Audrey’s voice, when he picks up the next call.

“Duke.” The relief in Nathan’s voice is definitely not normal for Nathan. “It’s Audrey, you need to meet us at the station. Now.”

Duke considers that for a moment, and heaves a sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” he yields, and he really wishes it had just been a dream. “Hey, wait, if you’re Audrey, where’s Nathan?”

Sex Pollen:

Really, they should have known that optimism was uncalled for.

“Okay, so it’s everywhere, but it’s just a plant,” Duke had said, in a tone of voice that implied more desperate hope than actual lack of concern. “It isn’t hurting anyone.”

“Yet,” Nathan had replied, with a dourness born of experience. “Not hurtin’ anyone yet.”

“Look, let’s- let’s just try and figure out where it came from, and how to get rid of it,” Audrey had said, because maybe, if they did that fast enough, it would remain just a plant.

They had not been that lucky.

The blossoms had opened just before sunset on the second day, beautiful, bell-like blooms from which the scent of amber and musk poured like water from thousands and thousands of delicate pitchers. There wasn’t a single place in town where the scent didn’t reach.

And as it turned out, Audrey wasn’t any more immune to pheromones than anyone else.

Dark!fic:

The thing is, when they work, they really work- they balance each other, they know when to offer support, when to pull each other back. When they’re good, they’re good- but when they slip, well, it’s a long way down, and there’s only so long that anyone can be selfless.

They balance just as well on the other side, selfish and desperate and grasping, clinging to each other because they’re all the stability they have left. And it was never a secret, not really, not to anyone who looked, the depths they could fall to. Not once they’d turned all that drive and protectiveness toward each other instead of the world outside. The same fierce determination, the same relentless loyalty, the same calculating ruthlessness- none of it changed, they didn’t change. They just- stopped sharing.

And it doesn’t matter how much blood Duke has to spill or how many hard choices Audrey has to make or what rules Nathan has to break- they’ll protect each other, because they need each other, and they’ve spent enough time putting other people’s needs first.

Secret Kinks:

It takes them time, to feel out what’s safe and what isn’t, what they can chance, what doesn’t stray too close to unhealed wounds.

It isn’t a surprise that Nathan likes to explore sensation, likes to push the experience to the absolute edges of his tolerance. It also isn’t really a surprise that he takes to games of power and control- both exerting, and relinquishing. It is a little bit of a surprise, how much he enjoys leaving some kind of mark, some kind of visible claim- and how quick he is to encourage sneaking a quick encounter somewhere where there’s a risk of being seen.

Audrey likes games of power as well; she isn’t as good at relinquishing control, but she knows how to take it. She likes keeping her boys worked up and desperate for as long as she can, making them wait, making them work to hold back. They also find she has a thing for scripts, for costumes- she spent so long fighting to be one thing, but alone with her boys, she finally feels like it’s safe to explore being something else.

For Duke, it all comes down to trust. He, like Nathan, will ask them to push the edges of his tolerance, if only to prove over and over again that they know where the boundaries are, and will stop at the limit. He is always the first to offer to yield control, and the last to take it, despite being very, very good at being in charge. He wants them to take him apart; he wants to face everything that scares him, to know that he can, to know that they will put him back together. He wears every mark Nathan leaves with a desperate sort of pride, clings to every sign that he belongs, and Audrey and Nathan discover that they can take him apart again and again with nothing but a bit of praise.

First Kiss:

It isn’t like they haven’t kissed before. All of them had exchanged kisses, at one time or another. But it’s different, that first time, stretched out on Nathan’s couch, Audrey sprawled out across Nathan and Duke both. They’re all tired, it’s been a long day in a string of long days, trying to put the world back together. But they are there, together, all three of them, like they have been, every night since the wall came down. Audrey is half asleep, listening to the soft back-and-forth of her boys talking. Nathan has tilted, is leaning against Duke’s shoulder, seeking contact- always seeking contact, seemingly balanced constantly between the need to reassure himself of their nearness and the desire for sensation- and Audrey nearly misses it, when Duke reaches up and runs his fingers through Nathan’s hair. It’s a small thing, but it’s huge- Duke reaching out, Duke choosing contact instead of shying away or merely tolerating it. She’s not sure how Nathan decides that it’s what he’s been waiting for, or if he was waiting at all, isn’t sure if it’s a rational choice or an impulse, but a moment later, Nathan’s lips are pressed against Duke’s. Audrey doesn’t breathe, attention focused entirely on the sight above her and the tension in Duke’s body against her back- it feels like a slow eternity before the tension fades, shifts, and turns to intent.

He’s kissing Nathan back, and Audrey breathes again, because this, this feels like renewal. This feels like finally, finally, they are rebuilding.

Meeting the parents:

They have been dealing with ghosts all day. They aren’t, thankfully, the malicious and angry spirits that had risen once before, but they are still causing a great deal of chaos and upset. Audrey is tired, Duke is withdrawn, and Nathan really just wants the day to be over; if they have to deal with one more sobbing townsperson or inconsolable spirit, he thinks he’s going to break something.

In the next moment of calm they get, he pulls his lovers aside and wraps an arm around each of them, needing the contact, the steady sound of their breathing and the curling scent of Audrey’s shampoo and Duke’s aftershave. Duke leans in immediately, their shoulders bumping as he tilts himself to rest his forehead against Nathan’s; Audrey resists, initially, tense and trembling, before she sighs and folds into the space left between them.

They stay like that for one breath, two, three-

And Nathan hears a voice behind him, soft and gentle and familiar in a way that leaves him dizzy.

“Nate?”

Duke goes tense in the same instant, because he knows her voice as well, and really, there were only ever a handful of people allowed to call him that. Nathan turns, slow and unsteady and with hands scrabbling loudly against the rough sleeves of his jacket, and the word rasps in his throat.

“Mom?”

She is as beautiful as he remembers her being, before she got sick; she is radiating a faint confusion, but her dark eyes are still kind, and the slight smile she wears is soft at the edges. He thinks his knees might go weak; the world sways and Duke grunts with effort, so he’s probably taken most of Nathan’s weight. Nathan would be more appreciative of his help if he could focus on anything other than the fact that his mother is there, in front of him, as she hasn’t been since he was nine.

“Oh, honey,” she says, and she brings a hand up, covering her mouth. Her eyes glimmer with tears, and Nathan wonders if he’s still breathing, if the spots in his vision are because he’s stopped. For a moment, all he can think is not again; it was bad enough, having the Chief come back to scold him for loving Audrey- he’s not sure he can handle hearing his mother heap disapproval on him for the two of them. But all she says is, “Look how big you are now,” and it’s such an innocuous comment that he chokes on a laugh.

Audrey’s hand finds his, a blaze of sensation, and it helps, he drags in a breath and gets his feet back under himself properly. He regrets it when Duke steps back the moment he’s steady, shoving his hands into his pockets and making every effort to create distance between them without actually moving out of easy reach.

“...What,” he starts, and stops, and starts again, “what are you doin’ here?”

“I don’t know,” she says, dropping her hand from her face and reaching out. Nathan hesitates, because he’s been doing this all day and he knows she’s not solid enough to touch- but really, what does it matter? He wouldn’t feel it anyway. He lifts the hand Audrey isn’t holding, pretends not to see the way her fingers don’t just touch, but intersect his own. “Does it matter?”

“No,” he lies, shaking his head, as if the motives of ghosts have never wrought havoc on his life before. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” she says, and he wants to believe it. “All grown up. And a police officer, just like your father.”

A dozen questions cross his mind, some bordering on accusations, but he asks none of them.

“I miss you,” is what makes it past his lips, and she flinches, her expression turning entreating as she glances between him and Audrey and Duke still trying to disappear behind him.

“I know, baby boy. I’m so sorry. But you aren’t alone, are you? You have people, people who make you happy?”

And it isn’t like his father’s questions; there’s no accusation, no barb, but he still braces himself for the other shoe.

“Yes.”

“Good,” she says, like she means it. Like that’s all she’s ever wanted to hear. “Good, Nate, I’m so glad.”

Moving in together:

It isn’t a choice so much as an inevitability. Audrey’d been living at Nathan’s since the sea monster tore the Gull off of its foundation, and Duke has nowhere else to go with the Rouge half-submerged in the harbor from an encounter with the same Trouble-spawned beast. And Nathan isn’t letting either of them out of his sight, anyway; he gets anxious when they’re in another room, another building would be pushing things entirely too far.

Not that they can really blame him; they’re still both adjusting to coming back, and aren’t much fonder of being separated.

So it’s Nathan’s house, by default. And for a while, it’s whatever Audrey left behind, and the handful of things Nathan had managed to salvage from Duke’s boat, and a lot of sharing. For a while, they’re both too uncertain for anything else. But slowly, very slowly, new things start to show up- first, a book, a gift from Gloria for Audrey, something trashy and torrid and decidedly lacking even a trace of the supernatural. Then a bulky brown sweater, ugly but soft, picked up for four dollars from a thrift store in Camden during a supply run. Audrey complains about the color, but curls herself up in Duke’s lap whenever he makes the mistake of sitting down while wearing it.

Nathan is the one to replace the bed, because a queen sized mattress would have been a tight fit for any two of them together, let alone all three. It takes a few days before any of them are used to it, and Nathan comments dryly that it’s like watching cats approach a suspect box to see how they circle it.

A few more books, a few more articles of clothing, and two new laptops filter in over the next month. After that, it’s the kitchen which receives attention. Nathan gets tired of watching Duke grimace whenever he pulls out a pot or a pan, and drags them to a kitchen supply store in Bangor. He scowls and complains and pushes until Duke starts picking out better tools, and then drops into the same soft, almost eager supportiveness he’s been showing since they got back. They spend a small fortune on pots and pans and utensils and bowls and racks and cutting boards and a heavy marble mortar-and-pestle, and Duke spends two days rearranging cabinets and washing new dishes.

When he calls them into the kitchen the day after, a slightly nervous, slightly proud glint in his dark eyes, to a proper meal set up and waiting, Audrey thinks that for the first time since coming back, it feels like coming home.

Crossover of my choice:

Audrey stares at the wary blonde woman in the red jacket, takes in the way her hand is positioned to reveal the badge on her belt. She takes a breath, and looks at the pair that flank her- a gorgeous brunette with cutting eyes and a scar over her lip, who holds herself like she expects obedience, and a likewise gorgeous man in a long coat with a hook for a hand and more eyeliner than Audrey has ever applied in her life- and takes another breath. She feels Nathan shift on her left, hears Duke’s quiet murmur of “un-fucking-believable,” and takes a third breath, because she’s seen a lot of bizarre things, while she’s been in Haven, but this might just take the cake.

“Emma, love, I think we’ve wound up in the wrong place,” the man murmurs, and the blonde rolls her eyes, but the brunette speaks before she has the chance to reply.

“Really, Captain Obvious, what tipped you off?” she asks, and Duke snickers.

The blonde- Emma- moves her hand away from her belt, raises both of them in front of her in a polite display of non-aggression.

“Hi,” she says, with a smile that Audrey thinks could be cut directly out of her own ‘comfort the confused’ playbook. “Sorry, hello, we- we aren’t looking for any trouble.”

“The hell was that?” Nathan says, after a moment. “Never seen a thinnie look like that before!”

“A thinnie?” Emma asks, before the brunette swears.

“Oh, damn,” she says.

“Regina?” Emma asks, and the brunette shakes her head.

“Well, the good news, we made it back to Maine. We’re just three hours south. I should have guessed, unstable portals are drawn to each other. Without a way to anchor our exit in Storybrooke... We were drawn to the next nearest site of mystical energy. Haven.” Nathan bristles at the way she says ‘Haven’, and Duke laughs again, a faint, hysterical edge in the sound.

“I thought this world didn’t have magic of it’s own,” the man said accusatorily, and Regina shrugged.

“It doesn’t, but I’m hardly the only one who’s ever decided to pay it a visit.”

AU of my choice:

I honestly don’t even know where to start with this, because I have approximately infinite AUs, so just- have a tiny snippet of Cor Vitae, because who doesn’t love a good magic!AU.

“So,” she said, “that thing you did, earlier...”

“How much do you know about counter-resonance and thought forms?” The question was carefully neutral, no judgement in Duke’s tone, just honest inquiry.

“...Not a lot,” Audrey admitted. “Annie- my foster mom, the, the one who started teaching me, the one who recognized that I had power- she, she was very traditional Wicca, most of what we learned was rote ritual and herblore. And crystals, Aunt Susie taught us a lot of crystal work.”

“Never was much for rote ritual,” Duke said, with a faint, rueful smile. “Has its place, but it’s restrictive as a first system.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But it was better than being told I was crazy, or possessed, so there’s that.” Audrey gave a brittle smile, and shrugged, and Duke’s expression shifted, an obscure sort of pain visible for just a moment behind his usual masks.

“...Yeah.” Duke turned and fussed with the teapot, though it hadn’t made a sound, shifting how it sat on the burner. “Yeah, I bet.” He stared at the flames for a moment, expression distant, before he cleared his throat and shrugged. “Simple version- that kind of enchantment, it’s not actually solid, it’s held together by will. Thought form. Will, intention, it has resonance, everyone has a frequency. Skilled mages can hide it, can change it, but most can’t, or don’t, because for most people, it’s just. Background. Static. But if you find the right frequency, you can sometimes build a counter-resonance. It’s... physics. Interference, use the right frequency and create an anti-phase interaction.”

“That’s the simple version?” Audrey asked, deliberately incredulous, letting the subject change. It wasn’t exactly anything she couldn’t wrap her head around- she had taken physics in high school, and she remembered waves, even if it wasn’t exactly natural to her to think about magic in those terms- but Duke definitely looked like he needed the distraction.

“The complex version involves arithmantic formulas and a whole lot more math than I ever bother with,” Duke replied, cracking a grin. “Learning how to match and shift frequencies was one of the best tools I ever picked up, you can do a lot with the right balances.”

“Huh. Add that to the list. After channeling, before spinning.”

“You’re just trying to avoid learning how to use a spindle,” Duke teased, his grin wider, now, more real. “I’m telling you, thread magic-”

“And I am telling you that the day I carry a bolt of yarn around with me everywhere-”

“A skein, Audrey, a- bolts are cloth, what, you- you know what, no, just. Never mind,” Duke said, properly despairing, and still grinning. “You are hopeless. Utterly hopeless.”

“You enchant your tea towels. You have tea towels,” Audrey retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and daring him to argue the point.

“I- what- of course I have tea towels, I have a kitchen.” He was laughing now, and Audrey couldn’t keep her expression level, couldn’t help but match his grin with her own. “Who doesn’t have tea towels in their kitchen?”

“Guys,” Audrey said promptly. “Also me. I don’t really-” she gestured at the sink, trying to convey the full measure of her disapproval, “do dishes.”

“Every guy I know has tea towels in his kitchen,” Duke argued. “Literally, I do not know anyone who does not have- what do you mean you don’t do dishes.”

“You live in a post card. People here bake pies for their neighbors and have window boxes full of marigolds. Your sample group is skewed.”

“Which does not invalidate my point, and also seriously, you cannot not do dishes.”

“I mostly don’t cook at home,” Audrey said, shrugging. “I mostly don’t cook, ever.”Duke brought a hand up to cover his mouth, looking entirely more concerned than Audrey thought was justified, and the teapot gave a loud shrill. Duke ignored it for a moment in favor of continuing to look at her like he was considering whether or not she needed an intervention, until the noise drew a flicker of red light over the stove.

#havensyfy #audrey parker #duke crocker #nathan wuornos #audrey x duke x nathan #threegulls #havensyfy x OUaT #story: cor vitae #oh my god i spent like twelve hours on this ask #also seriously i just desperately want audrey and emma to meet #more than anything #socially-unsure blonde saviors to magical towns in maine #making nice with local law and local pirates #BUT ANYWAY #i may have misinterpreted the way this game is supposed to work #but enjoy a whole bunch of not!fic #and a tiny bit of real fic #rabbittrabbitt #jadzi replies

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weightlossguru-blog1 · 7 years ago

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How to lose weight in a healthy way - part I

First thing first - these are advices strictly on weight loss, they're not meant to help you gain muscle mass and tone yourself up! If you wish to gain muscle mass, lots of my recommendations here are counterproductive. Second - please read these disclaimers.

Who am I writing this for? I should start off by saying that if you're happy with your body shape, I'm happy for you. I admire you! I admire those beautiful curvaceous women who flaunt their bodies proudly and live quality life. I honestly envy them and I have always wanted to be like that. But unfortunately, my mindset wouldn't let me. I've been tought I look bad with extra weight, My weight was scrutinized and mocked my entire life, so I couldn't cope with it anymore. So I'm writing this for the girls out there who don't feel comfortable having an extra weight and seek a change but either don't know how to start it or can't find a will or motivation Why am I writing this? I have basic knowledge on biochemistry, human physiology and metabolism. I also did my research for half an year on the internet, checking up the blogs of professional personal trainers and fitness experts. Combining the learnt information, my intuition and lot's of persistence, I managed to drop 44 lbs in 4 months. How should you read this?

Take everything with a grain of salt! By no means I'm professional trainer or fitness expert, I'm your overly chatty neighbor. This is my experience only. These should be more like guidelines than set in stone rules. Also take into consideration that everyone's body is different.

The bodytypes. People usually fall in one of three body type categories, which you may already know but yet here they are - ectomorph, mesomorph and endomorph. If you're ectomorph you probably dont need my advice on this, because you're naturally skinny. If yoú're endomorph this article won't help you much either. For efficient results you need to arm yourself with lots of patience, lots of it and probably do a specialized bioscreening called vega test and arm with lots of patience. Lots of it.

If you're mesomorph, then you're in the lucky golden mean and you can do pretty much anything to your body. I learn towards a mesomorph, so I can modulate my metabolism quite efficiently. Under right circumstances I lose weight quickly (notable results in less than a week), but on the downside I gain weight even quicker. The actual tips.

1. Prepare your mind and body. So, let's say it's past lunch on whatever date is. Start your journey right now, on this second and don't postpone it! Finish the rest of the day drinking excessive amounts of water and eat a light dinner.

2. Right of the bat cross fizzy drinks, alcohol and sweets off your diet. Fizzy drinks contain empty calories and aggravate the mucous of your stomach and intestines which results in bloating and increased appetite. Same with alcohol.. same with everything, containing refined sugar. Believe me, you won't die without them. Coming from a girl who used to engulf minimum 2 l of Pepsi every day.

3. Good ol' plain water is your new best friend and it does wonders in every weight-loss journey. It boosts the metabolism, no joke. Make sure you're fully hydrated all day, every day. The more water, the better but don't overdo it, because you can stress your kidneys and bladder.

4. Cleansing day. I usually start my regimens (when I get back on them) with this type of days. What I would suggest is spending day 1 on maximum amounts of water and really light food - raw vegetables and fruits. Attain some products with high cellulose content - greeneries as cabbage, kale, broccoli... Since humans cannot break down fibres (cellulose), the fibres stay intact in your intestines, they swell sorta speak, keep you full sorta speak and absorb some bad stuff. What this does in 24 hours is... well, cleanses.Avoid starch containing products for now. (Dont worry, you'll have plenty of them later). Starch containing fruits and vegetables are banana, potatoes, beans, peas, lentils, corn, anything with 'dense' type of texture. hardcore version of this 'cleansing day' is spending the first day entirely on water, but I honestly don't think anyone can manage it. Don't force yourself to it. Don't forget that man's instinct for self preservation is waay stronger than one's desire to lose weight.

If you push your body way beyond its limits, it will retract with a force stronger than your will.

This should be your golden rule from now on! Don't push your body's limits. In that sort of speaking, don't 'cleanse' for more than 1 day! Just don't! Please don't. It's dangerous, you may pass out, you'll feel dizzy and faint or simply you won't be able to do it. You just won't I promise. You'll end up binging and hating yourself, you'll lose hope and quit and then, in few weeks or months, you'll need to start back again. That's why most extreme diets don't work. They go up against the body's instinct. You should listen to your body and not do ANYTHING that makes you feel bad.

Another great thing this cleansing day achieves is it sets your mind and give you inspiration. "I managed to get through one day, I'll manage 90 more" sorta thing. Believe me, when you wake up on day 2, feeling light and depuffed because of this cleansing day, you'll know you're on the right track.

5. Start your second day, and every day afterwards, by drinking two cold cups of water. Actually, make this a habit of yours. What this does is boost your metabolism on the spot. Proceed with your day, eating pro-per-ly!

6. Now first things first, Calories count. Yes honey, they do count. :) In order to lose fat, you need to burn the equivalent of them in kJ, ergo kcal, it's basic thermophysics. You'll lose weight if the total amount of kcal burned exceed the total amount of kcal intake. But, you say, you dont lead an active lifestyle. A piece of breakfast has some kcal and you are already gaining fat?!

7. Don't worry boo, BMR got you. Every living thing has BMR (Basic metabolic rate) - certain amount of calories your body expends while at rest, in order to just ruin your physiology - keep your blood moving, keep your temperature, keep the tone of your muscles, etc. The rate differs, depending on age, sex, height and weight but it should fit around 1400- 1700. You can calculate your BMR online, there are so much options - google “Basic metabolic rate calculator”. Now a pro tip, enter your age, sex, height and GOAL weight and it should compute the BMR of your desired weight. Add 100 or 200 to the number and this new number is your new daily caloric intake. Meaning, if the BMR of your desired weight is 1450 for instance, consume 1600 -1650 kcal in a day. Every day. Don't go above it. See the magic happens :)

8. Now don't be tempted to have your caloric intake at BM rates or below. Please don't do this idiocy. This is extra harsh on your body and slows down your metabolism, ultimately destroying it. You'll be riding on the highway to chronic fatigue, anemia, dangerously low BP and anorexia before you realise it. Most likely you won't survive your regimen for long and end up binging and giving up hope. Don't play games with your own body and health! Any diets, requiring daily intake of lower than 1000 kcal are the devil. Don't play games with your own body and health! Any diets, requiring daily intake of lower than 1000 kcal are the devil.

Reduced, but optimized daily intake of 1600-1700 kcal won’t make you feel like you’re on a diet and you'll be able to go for weeks. Soon results will show up! :)

9. The quality of your intake is also important. Keep an optimized ratio of proteins, fats and carbohydrates for a balanced meal! In order to have a smooth running metabolism, Don't exclude any food group. Dont get it twisted by the names 'fatty acids' and 'carbohydrates', you certainly DO need these in order to be healthy. But there's a difference between good acids and bad acids, good carbohydrates and bad carbohydrates... basically good = natural, bad = processed. Your body has the ability to break down the good sugars of fruit, vegetables and natural starch to monosaccharides. The bad sugars are basically refined sugar and artificial sweets. Stay away from these, they are overly rich in calories and suppress you. You'll feel some abstinence symptoms at first but once you forget the taste of it, you won't mind them even if they're right on the table in front of you. If you crave them really bad, drink a cup of hot chocolate or sweetened coffee. It has lesser calories, and you won't feel bad, cause you've drunk it, not eaten it. It's a mind trick and it helps. Speaking of beverages and sugars - stick to good ol' sweetened (or not) black coffee (or having minimum milk), tea and forget about Starbucks and all that jazz. Caloric bombs right there! As are the freshes. You heard me right, sweetheart, fresh is bad for weight loss. It strips down the fruits of all their precious fibers and gives you pure... liquidized... sugar. Caloric bomb. (Unless you plan to have it instead of a meal, which I don't recommend ) . Now on the 'abominable' fatty acids. Don't mistake dietary fats for body fats! The fats in your diet don't turn up on your tush, no compound have this superpower. :) If you want an explanation on HOW you gain parietal fat, ask and you shall receive. I won't be including this here, because this article is already going for too long.

Good fatty acids are the natural ones - mono and polyunsaturated fats, omega 3 and 6, you'll find in nuts, fish, some 'fatty' fruits and vegetables as avocado, coconut, olives, . you... you know that buttery feeling.

Butter and dairy products, on another hand is rich on saturated fatty acids. They are labeled bad, but they tend to fill you up quickly, and due to that, I don't forsake them, but I tend to tread slightly around these products. (I love my dairy). tend to fill you up quickly and due to Things go wrong, when we process the fats - they turn into transgenic, which are cancer! Therefore, people, don't eat fried food or keep it at bare minimum.

Guys...

I plan on ending this here. Next time, I'm going to talk more about how to use food in your advantage, when and how to ... mimic exercising. (because let's face it - for a type of girl that needs weight loss, exercising is hideous.)

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, talk to me :) I dont have any credits to give off for the information, because it was all memorized inside my smart head 8-]! But if you quote this, please don't forget to credit me by the url ^.^ see ya next time

xoxoxo,

Sunday

#weight #weight loss #losing weight #healthy weight loss #weight loss guide #weightlossguru

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knightfury1895 · 8 years ago

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Mr. Lestrade

Lestrade would appear to be pleased to receive me - albeit somewhat surprised at my arrival at this time of the morning. Apparently, it is not terribly polite to appear unannounced on a fellow's doorstep before nine o'clock of a morning without any warning. I am showed into the parlour and Mrs. Lestrade takes my hat, stick and coat while she offers me a cup of tea and some breakfast. Her husband looks on with some amusement as she bullies me into sitting down and "at least taking a cup of tea and some biscuits" - I suspect that the inspector is rather proud of his wife. "What brings you here at this hour, Mr. Holmes?" Lestrade enquires with poorly-contained curiosity as I warm my hands on my steaming cup and try not to sniff - there is a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, but my nerves are much too frayed to permit me to partake of anything. It is time to swallow my pride. "I should like your advice," I confess quietly. He grins at me for a moment, his dark eyes twinkling, and hastily sets aside his own cup and saucer. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes wants my advice!" he crows. "I never thought I'd see the day! What sort of a case is it? A gruesome murder, in which all of the likely suspects have solid alibis? Or perhaps it's a theft that has you stumped?" I shake my head and take a long, calming sip of my tea. "It is nothing of that sort Lestrade. Forgive me, perhaps I am wasting your time..." "Not at all Mr. Holmes! Not at all!" the fellow insists hastily. "Please, tell me all. I should like to think that you could ask my advice about anything you wanted to - as an acquaintance if not as a colleague - I'd be glad to help you if I can." Even after all these years, the inspector still only counts the two of us as 'acquaintances', while Watson was rather quick to befriend me - and the Yarder, once he came to know the fellow. I envy the doctor - he makes friends so very effortlessly, while I can only look on and wonder how exactly he does it. I cannot help but wonder whether Lestrade would call my friend his friend, or another mere acquaintance. "Mr. Holmes?" Lestrade prompts me, a look of - is that concern or mere curiosity? - probable curiosity upon his face as he gazes at me. "What ever is the matter?" I realise that his eyes keep drifting to my teacup and glance down to find that my hands are shaking. That most certainly will not do! I finish my drink hastily, set aside the cup and place my hands in my lap so as to better control them. Lestrade clears his throat and I realise that I have still not explained myself. "It is Watson," I inform my 'acquaintance' as my eyes study the ceiling of his parlour. "He is unwell and grieving and..." I close my eyes for a moment and draw a deep, if somewhat shaky, breath. "...and nothing that I do or say would seem to be helping him at all. I am at my wits' end!" "Ah-ha," he nods and allows his eyes to flick over me. "You thought that your friendship could just go back to the way that it was before you decided to play at being dead for three years, did you?" I groan and rub at my aching forehead. "I had hoped that it had. We had seemed to put the last three years behind us, once I explained my reasons to Watson to the best of my ability. I think the fellow at least understands now that I only intended to keep him safe..." He snorts and shakes his head. "You didn't see how he reacted. You weren't left to try to help him pick up the pieces again when he came home. Good God Mr. Holmes! How can you sit there and say that you thought that he understands? It's not as simple as that - he's been hurt and he's grieving. Feelings can't always just be swept aside by rational thought - however rational a gent might be. He needs time and patience." I nod and swallow carefully, hoping that Lestrade cannot see my emotional state at this moment. "I am only trying to help the fellow! I know that he needs time - I am giving him time! - but he cannot go on as he is. He is not eating, he has clearly not been sleeping properly..." I run a hand through my hair and realise that I have not even thought to comb it before I left the house and that it is in disarray. "He has made himself ill and he is only going to make himself worse - he has a dreadful cold as it is and he has been fevered." "Right, I think I see... You've been trying to look after him, as a good friend should, and he's being less than co-operative. Is that it?" I slam my eyes shut and nod again. "Sometimes, he appreciates the effort that I am making - regardless of whether I actually succeed in doing him any good or not - but on other occasions he becomes angry... annoyed... impatient..." I shrug with my hands. "He sends me away in a fit of temper and I am left wondering what I have done wrong." The Yarder smirks at me. "Have you tried asking him?" "No." "Why not?" How can I admit that I am afraid that he will only shout at me again? I simply shrug my shoulders and turn my attention to the flickering flames in the hearth. "Mr. Holmes," the inspector begins with a sigh. "I really have no idea what to say to you. You are a good detective - some might even say a great one, pride permitting - but you are not very..." he clears his throat and fidgets in his chair. "Your knowledge of human emotion needs some reviewing, perhaps." I grind my teeth and clench my fists. I know about fear, anger - even love! - and if my knowledge of human emotion was so very lacking I would not be much of a detective at all. I have made my own studies of human psychology, thank you very much Mr. Lestrade! He holds up his hands as I prepare to stand. "Calm down Mr. Holmes. Perhaps I should have worded that a little more delicately. Please, stay seated." I force myself to relax as much as is possible, though my fists remain clenched. "Now... What I mean to say is this..." he clears his throat and rubs at the back of his neck. "Perhaps you and Doctor Watson have the same problem - you are both allowing your own emotional responses to cloud your judgement. Is that possible?" What emotional responses? "I always maintain a very firm control over my emotions." "Yes..." he gazes at me for a long moment. "Usually you do, yes. But I have seen you lose control of yourself once or twice, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, so don't give me that. Now... Had it even crossed your mind that perhaps the doctor is not actually angry or upset with you at all?" I blink back at him. "Then why would he shout at me and send me away?" "Well... I can think of one or two reasons, off of the top of my head," he responds slowly, as if I have a sluggish brain that might struggle to keep up with him. "Pride would be the most likely explanation - perhaps he simply would prefer it if you didn't see him in the state that he is in. He has tried to turn me away when I called by to see him after Mrs. Watson passed away and that was my first thought then." I feel my eyes widen in horror. "And so you simply permitted him to suffer alone?" He stares back at me, affronted. "Of course I did not! The doctor is my friend as well, you know!" That answers my earlier question, but I no longer care about that. "But Watson can be most forceful - and I always feel that my presence will only disturb the fellow further! How can one possibly...?" "The doctor has been unwell, you say?" Lestrade asks, changing the subject. "How unwell, exactly?" "Oh..." I rub at my paining head and sniff. "Unwell enough to cause me to fear for him. He insists that he will be over the worst of it soon enough, but he is barely eating and his sleep could hardly be called restful..." He nods. "Grief can have that affect on the strongest of men and it never manifests itself in quite the same way twice. I'm not surprised that the poor chap is ill." "Neither am I," I confess. "But still I feel horribly incompetent as a friend - I feel that I should be able to do something for him." Lestrade's eyes widen and he gapes at me for a long moment. He then smiles and pats my hand. "I shall call by this evening," he assures me. "Where is the doctor? His house or yours?" "Baker Street of course!" Where else would he be? It takes me a moment to remember that Watson still has his practice and that I have no idea how it is faring in his absence. Perhaps he is also fretting about that, as I would my own practice if I were away from it without any opportunity to prepare it first. I shall have to call in there on my way home to ensure that all is in order - I do hope that my friend's neighbour knows that the fellow is away from home and is looking after his practice for him. "I shall call by at around six o'clock," the inspector tells me. "I don't think I'll tell him that you've mentioned his being unwell though - he might not like that. If you prefer, I shall say that I called by to see him and his neighbour said that he was with you." I thank Lestrade for his thoughtfulness, again decline the offer of breakfast and collect my outdoor clothing before stepping out into the street to discover that the weather has decided to match my dismal mood further by starting to rain. Oh well, at least Watson is in the warm and his friend the inspector intends to provide what assistance he can. I square my shoulders and attempt to hail a cab.

#Mr. Lestrade #To Return From Death #consulting Inspector Lestrade #Classic Sherlock Holmes fan fiction #grief #illness #care #friendship #hurt and comfort #my stories #multipart #Part Twenty #Chapter Twenty

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oumakokichi · 8 years ago

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Could you clarify Gonta and Ouma's relationship in game? I've heard that they actually hang out pre-chapter 4 (to the point of Miu saying they're spending all that time together because they're having sex, lmao) and his tears for Gonta after trial 4 were real, but a lot of people are arguing that Ouma saw him as nothing but a potential pawn/bodyguard, even before chapter 4. What are your thoughts on their relationship? Thank you!

This is definitely a complicated question and one thatrequires a lot of careful explanation, because of a lot of the events ofChapter 4. I’m glad you asked anon, because I’d like to do my best atattempting a little more clarification for this, because both Ouma and Gontaare incredibly important characters to the overall turning point of the game,and it’s important to understand their dynamic and the events that occurred inChapter 4 as a result.

That being said, I’ve mentioned before in a previous post,but I’ll reemphasize a little bit: when I say “relationship” when talking aboutthese two, I really do not ship them atall. I would not ever recommend shipping them. The ship is somewhat popularamong Japanese pixiv artists recently and might have boosted a little of itspopularity here on Tumblr as a result, but I can honestly say that I don’tthink it would ever, ever be a healthy shipping dynamic in any sense, and whenI talk in this post, I’m strictly going to be referring to “relationship” or “dynamic”in the sense of their actual interactions within the plot, and not in a senseof shipping them whatsoever.

Spoilers for Chapter 4 and onward will follow, so please don’tread past this unless you’re comfortable being spoiled that far!

To cover what I just touched on, in terms of shipping, therereally is far, far too much of a power imbalance between Ouma and Gonta for meto ever be comfortable with them in a romantic dynamic. Regardless of Ouma’sintentions, and the fact that he definitely did not want things to come down tohaving to get Miu and Gonta killed, he made the decision knowingly, and it’ssomething he himself doesn’t shy away from or forget. He did set up acounter-plan to Miu’s attempt to murder him, and he did manipulate Gonta intohelping him with that plan, and it’s true that had Ouma not taken Gonta to theremember light or pressed him on after knowing the secret of the outside world,two lives would not have been lost (although considering if Miu had actually gotten away with her plan to kill Ouma, there’s really no guarantee for what might have happened at the school trial).

Gonta is someone who trusts others implicitly, always triesto see the best in people, and is kind, gentle, and compassionate. Throughoutearlier chapters, but especially in Chapter 4, Ouma comes down hard on him,insults him, and tells him to “stop moping” or “focusing on what he can’t do”—andwhile these things are likely the same kind of act that he put on in order toforce Himiko to confront the promise she made to Tenko, it still doesn’t changethe fact that he says pretty awful things to Gonta in order to achieve theseresults.

These things are part of Ouma’s act and façade to make thegroup hate him, yes, but that doesn’t make them any less horrible, and he knowsit, and the player should be encouraged to remember it too, because it’s notsomething Ouma should be excused for or even wants to be excused for. A huge part of his character is aboutdoing these cold, pragmatic things that need to be done for the sake of hisplans, but it still nonetheless involves making ruthless sacrifices along theway, even at the expense of staining his own hands and ruining his one firmmoral guiding point.

To try and ship Gonta and Ouma in a romantic fashion oranything similar is just…really not good. Gonta doesn’t deserve to be put inany kind of shipping dynamic where he’s going to be seen as anything less thanequal, and there’s really no way to deny that Ouma doesn’t see him as an equal, but as a piece to be moved on agameboard. This is something really important to be remembered with most ships,in my opinion, but with this one in particular I’ll just say that it doesreally make me uncomfortable that people would want to make this kind oftreatment into something “cutesy” or “shippy” when it’s really not supposed tobe, and not portrayed as such by the game.

That being said, in terms of the plot overall, Gonta andOuma do have pretty important interactions with one another. As you pointedout, even in earlier chapters they spend quite a lot of time together, and it’seven noted by other characters like Miu.Gonta plays an essential role in many of Ouma’s less-lethal schemes, such asthe bug fiasco in Chapter 2, where he used Gonta and his bugs as a distractionto go steal the motive videos and sift through them.

An undeniable part of why he relies on Gonta probably comesdown to the fact that yes, he does see him as one of the more easily manipulatedmembers of the group. As one of the only characters whose reaction is to trusteven Ouma implicitly, rather than to assume that he’s lying, Gonta and his sweet,trusting disposition mean that whenever Ouma does have a plan that needs beingdone, he always has a pretty accessible, physically strong member of the groupto rely on. This is pretty evident with the fact that he knew Gonta lookedlarge and intimidating enough to round up all the members of the group into theentomology lab while Ouma himself was off trying to collect evidence.

In that sense, people who say that Ouma has, to some degree,thought of Gonta as a pawn or bodyguard are not entirely wrong. I think it’strue that Ouma did think of Gonta in very straightforwardly chess-like terms asa piece to be moved at his disposal, and someone who could protect him orprovide physical influence in the group where Ouma lacks it. However, I woulddisagree to say that this is all he thought of Gonta as.

I’ve made many posts before regarding Chapter 4 and Ouma ingeneral, and the most essential part of his entire character is how contradictory he is. Everything,absolutely everything about him, pretty much comes down to being somewhere in amiddle ground, or else both things simultaneously, rather than put into eitherspecifically black or white terms. And it’s a brilliant writing decision,considering how his character design and color palette consists almost entirely of blacks and whites.

While Ouma did in fact think of Gonta in these cold,methodical, pragmatic terms like “how useful is this person to me and can Iutilize him as a bodyguard/pawn,” there was also, clearly a part of him thatwas at least somewhat grateful for the fact that Gonta believed him aboutanything at all.

As someone who manipulates the group from the sidelines intotrying to band together while feeding them clues, Ouma watches the actual “leaders”or “moral pillars” of the group with extreme interest. These include Saihara,naturally as the one who steps up to the plate and solves the class trials andriddles Ouma has been posing to him—but also, interestingly enough, Gonta. Assomeone who is relied upon and trusted by the rest of the group, and who onlyever has wanted to protect people, Gonta is not an intellectual leader, but anemotional one.

I know I’ve mentioned this before too, but Gonta’s abilityto trust others so naturally and so implicitly, and his overall friendly naturewas something I think Ouma envied. Cynical as he is, it’s clear that Ouma wouldlike to believe in “the power of friendship,” “happy endings,” and other suchoptimistic things, if only the situation were different. His behavior in theflashback we see of him and Miu talking practically confirms this, as his planto use the hammers and bomb to take down Monokuma is actually surprisinglyoptimistic and deals almost entirely on the idea that the entire group might bewilling to band together.

Gonta was a good person, and Ouma knew it. Regardless of thefact that he had been utilizing him for minor schemes and distractions inearlier chapters, I don’t think he went into Miu’s VR world planning for it tobe Gonta specifically that he used in his plan. In fact, he doesn’t seem tohave even considered using Gonta until Gonta volunteers to protect him when he’sabout to go running off outside. Then he has a moment of mumbling to himself,saying something along the lines of, “Maybe if it’s Gonta…if Gonta were to bemy bodyguard…” And it’s only after that that I think he finally went throughwith his decision to use Gonta specifically in order to stop Miu in her attemptto kill him.

The secret of the outside world is, in fact, horrible enoughthat knowing it in its entirety is enough to make literally anyone give uptheir will to live. It’s the motive Monokuma provided them at the start of thechapter, and even prior to entering the VR world, Ouma had already used thekeycard to go see it at the end of the mini-game route where the exit door waslocated. The remember light placed inside the VR world was supposed to show theexact same sight that Ouma had witnessed: a truth about the entire outsideworld so terrible and depressing that almost anyone’s will to live would becrushed instantly without an incredible tenacity to go on.

It is 100% true that Ouma did lead Gonta to the rememberlight, and that he encouraged him to use it, knowing that this would coincidewith his plans to have Miu killed before she could kill him. It is also truethat Monokuma placed this motive into the VR world as an incentive that all ofthe characters were encouraged to find and to use. And it is true too thatafter Gonta used the remember light and saw the state of the outside world forhimself, he was so horrified and distraught that he did agree to Ouma’sinitiative to “save” the group by killing them and sparing them from the hellthat was both inside the school and out of it.

Ouma presented his plan, did fully intend to manipulateGonta when he led him to the remember light, and was no doubt hoping thatthings would go according to said plan and that Gonta would agree to kill Miu,because it was really Ouma’s only real counter in order to stop Miu fromkilling him, since she had already made up her mind that she needed to get backto the outside world no matter what. It wasn’t a question of her just trying tokill him in the VR world: if that plan had failed, she was desperate enoughthat she would have just tried something else.

And Gonta did agree to that plan, because the entire point about the outside world and thetruth that it represented (an undeniable, horrible truth very different fromthe lies Tsumugi uses with later remember lights in order to try and boost thegroup’s morale again) is that it was literally just that bad. That horrible.Anyone, even the best person, would have their morals compromised and bewilling to do things they normally wouldn’t do after learning that kind ofsecret, because there was no longer any point at all in living.

The secret of the outside world was something the entiregroup was bound to discover at some point or another, be it sooner or later.Ouma introduces it first to Gonta, as part of his plan, but also to the rest ofthe group in Chapter 5 for entirely different reasons, coming down hard on themas an “evil supreme leader” who has declared that the entire killing game “isover” and that there’s no meaning in even going back to the outside world, asit’s entirely destroyed.

It’s certainly true, and important to not forget oroverlook, the fact that Gonta died as a result of Ouma’s plan. Ouma himselfdoes not try to overlook or brush over that fact within the game. And as I’vestated in other posts, the fact that this was an act that caused Ouma to breakhis one cardinal rule of not letting anyone be hurt or killed as a result ofhis own actions is something that devastated him.

People might or might not believe it according to their owninterpretation, but Ouma’s emotional breakdown in front of Gonta doesn’t makemuch sense unless you assume that it was real, because he knew the things thathe’d done in order to survive, and he knew that Gonta was a sacrifice that hecaused, and he really, honestly wanted to die. His resolve would have brokenthere, because he asks to die with Gonta, and it’s not even something Monokumaposes any objection to.

The only reason he stays at all and resolves himself tocarry out his plan to act like the worstvillain imaginable, is because Gonta (well, Gonta’s avatar, who remembered theweight of the things that happened in the VR world) asked him to stay with thegroup, to “be friends with them,” and essentially to keep everyone united andstrong. And that’s exactly what Ouma tries to do as an “evil leader,” by makinghimself into a villainous figure who he wants the other characters to despise.

If Ouma hadn’t developed at least some measure of realrespect for Gonta by the end—if he didn’t feel absolutely horrible about Gonta’sdeath—then there was literally no reason for him to have that breakdown infront of him. If he had truly thought Gonta an idiot and a fool and wanted to “rubit in his face,” there was no reason for him to not actually show Gonta that hehad “betrayed him the whole time.” That was what would honestly have caused themost suffering for Gonta, who was about to go to his execution anyway.

But he doesn’t do this. Not only that, but he does keep the promise he made to Gontaas best he can in his own way, even while still undoubtedly unstable andwanting to die himself because of the things he’s uncovered about the outsideworld.

Nothing can ever excuse the things Ouma did, and the factthat both Miu and Gonta die in Chapter 4 is something that leaves himirrevocably changed and far more desperate than he was at any point prior inthe killing game. He himself does not try to excuse his actions. They’re notsupposed to be excusable. And trying to ship Ouma with Gonta in any kind ofromantic sense, knowing that there’s a huge power imbalance and that Ouma was,in the end, willing to sacrifice Gonta, is really, really dangerous and notsomething I’m comfortable with.

But it’s also true that Gonta is one of the few charactersin the narrative who made a lasting impression on Ouma besides Saihara. WhileOuma was willing to cut out his own emotions and make that final decision to dowhat needed to be done in order to accomplish his own objectives, I wouldhesitate to say he actually thoughtof Gonta as nothing more than a piece. Gonta was someone who actually trustedhim, was nicer to him than most members of the group, and was a genuinely goodperson through and through. And Ouma was well aware of those things, and that’sexactly why Gonta’s death hurt so much, as did knowing that he himself wasresponsible in part.

I hope I’ve made matters a little clearer—I know this gotlong. But thank you for asking anon! While I would definitely say that shippingOuma and Gonta in any kind of potentially romantic dynamic is just flat-outunhealthy, there’s also no denying that they both are important to the plot,and that Ouma did, by the end, respect Gonta, and resent himself for the thingshe had to use him to do.

#ndrv3 #drv3 #new danganronpa v3 #kokichi ouma #gonta gokuhara #ndrv3 spoilers //#my meta #okay to reblog #every time i write more about chapter 4 a little part of me dies #it's such a good chapter but god #anonymous

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