#i was more like jet girl as a kid and hated her so i tried to be more like tank and now i'm a weird creepy mix

[polkaraton]

sorry, one more

[pastrymechanic]

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘༘ florida wind + troubles

➯ y/n is at a race where she runs into a high school memory she’d like to forget. thankfully ollie comes to her rescue.

➯ very fearful to post my first little writing but i tried my darndest so enjoy or not. constructive criticism is welcome 🌷

➯ warnings: high school bullies but hey we got ollie standing up for y/n!!

the rosso corsa sundress billowed in the soft yet humid miami wind. the peace of being back in beachy paradise felt like she was almost floating on a cloud while she flowed through the familiar paddock, speaking to fans and collecting gifts for ollie.

her sunglasses were pushed up to her head as she slid friendship bracelets onto her wrist, taking photos with fans while simultaneously collecting letters and plushies for her boyfriend. after it seemed most of the fans had been noticed and all important gifts had been placed carefully in her beige tote bag she began the walk back to the ferrari motorhome, passing the jet black mercedes garage as she goes. 

she doesn’t think twice as she passes other paddock goers, walking by two girls waiting near the mercedes motorhome until a familiar italian face pops his head out waving to the girl skipping along her way through the floridan paddock. a simple wave and smile to kimi is given before she continues on until a hand grabs her freckled arm and her journey back is cut short.

a quick squeal and she jumps back, heart thumping through her chest as the sunglasses previously rested atop her head, fall to the sidewalk and she meets the eyes of who stopped her. it felt as if every single high school memory flooded back to her in a second. the insults, the rude looks, the violence for a girl she’d tried to forget.

“y/n? long time no see, finally got to a race, i see.” the girl’s arms crossed over the sky blue dress, one y/n adored with its contrast against the hateful girl’s tan skin. 

“oh, yeah. you know my boyfriend got me paddock passes.” she let out an awkward laugh, twisting the ends of her sunglasses in her hands, desperately trying get this conversation to end faster. why years later did she have to run into her old high school “friend”?

“oh? where is he?” the girl stood behind her blast from the past asked, a matching dress in moss green adorning her body as she smirked at the memory of a girl.

“oh he’s just waiting for me in uhm, ferrari.” she spoke vaguely, trying desperately not to let them in on her private life even more than she already had.

“you don’t have to lie to us, y/n. it’s okay if momma bought the tickets for you.” the girl faked a frown. while y/n let out a deep breath, currently hoping and praying anyone would come pull her away, unfortunately the small curly headed mercedes driver seemed to disappear after a quick greeting from his close friend’s girlfriend.

“listen, i just want to enjoy my day with my boyfriend.” y/n tried to brush off the conversation, gently as the people pleaser she always was and will be.

“oh shut up like you actually have a boyfriend. give it up, if i don’t have one right now then you certainly can’t.” her old friend groaned, her hands dropping down to her sides in exasperation. almost as if she genuinely didn’t believe the girl stood before he once again, but who was she kidding she most definitely didn’t believe y/n.

just as she felt as though it would never end a hand snaked around her waist and the familiar british accent spoke beside her.

“hello amore mio, i was waiting for you.” (my love) y/n could barely turn her head before ollie turned her head for her and gave her a sweet yet short peck she’d never get tired of. 

“oh uhm just got caught up.” she smiled at him, leaning on his shoulder as he looked towards the girls. after years he could read the girl before him like a book and obviously these people were a bother, he just couldn’t figure out how.

“oh? i’m oliver.” he nodded towards the two girls who seemed gobsmacked,  both rushing to speak to their old celebrity crush.

“oh my gosh ollie, i love you so much. i’m an old friend of y/n.” the previously harsh girl put her best smile on her face with a hand extended, promptly ignored by ollie.

“it’s oliver.” ollie corrected and y/n couldn’t help but let a small smile through at his sternness before he whisked her away back to ferrari, her dress twirling making her feel like a less woodsy, more motor oil version of giselle from enchanted.

“do you know i love you?” y/n looked up at the ferrari driver, a genuine smile shone up to him as he smiled back down, his happiness stemming from her sunshine smile.

“and i. love. you.” ollie fit a kiss between each word as they entered his driver’s room before she pulled away with a series of giggles.

“thanks for saving me from my high school bully.” her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes searched the briton’s face. her eyes filled with memories flashing through them, her mind only brought back to the present by ollie’s voice.

“you’re welcome love, it’s my offical duty as your lovely f1 driver boyfriend.” y/n gave a playful smack to his chest before rolling her eyes at his joking ego. with a small laugh she pulled him back into a hug so tight he thought he might loose his head to her  love before any crash into a barrier. after her hold loosened ollie pulled back with pure love in his eyes before sighing in contentment at the girl before him. her gorgeous eyes staring back at him with her hair slightly tangled from the florida wind. oh how he would protect her from everyone who troubled her. anytime, anywhere.

[softmick]

autistic mickey thoughts i’m chewing on:

hyposensitive bby mickey walking into things, stomping around, wrestling with his brothers - things he never grows out of.

he loves to shoulder check people. he loves wearing heavy boots and his heels slamming into the ground. he loves the deep pressure and slamming of bodies. fighting is fun! he’s not even that mad like that, it just makes him feel right somehow.

hyposensitive bby mickey infuriating terry because he doesn’t react to pain like the other kids. it takes a lot to make him cry, physically anyway, and maybe it scares terry at first… to go so far. but then it’s a challenge. and maybe this is just another little reason mickey downplays what happens to him. because it doesn’t really hurt that bad.

little hyposensitive mickey falling asleep to screaming, neighbors partying, gunshots, flashing lights who grows up and needs a weighted blanket and ian and the pressure of the wall at his back and white noise and flickering light to sleep on the west side.

lil mickey who hates vegetables because they all come from a can (soft) or the freezer (squeaky). and ian who realizes mickey loves pickles and gets onions on his sandwiches and has a little lightbulb moment and just gives mickey a raw carrot. and it turns out he does like vegetables and then he snacks like a rabbit for a while because CRUNCH

mickey who has lackluster sexual experiences before/outside of ian because the girls he’s with are young (like him) and kind of passive. or he hooks up with guys and does his best not to touch too much and decides it’s just kind of blah. but then he and ian fight and fuck and it just lights up his world. because he needs a LOT of sensory input. and ian is willing to put in work!!

lil dirty mickey hating lukewarm/cold water and the weird way his clothes smell like nothing with their shitty (nonexistent?) laundry detergent but loving scalding hot water and strong perfumed soaps and fabric softener. mickey who isn’t crazy about baths but loves a hot tub/jetted tub.

mickey being much more accommodating/open to new things when he can bring his headphones and blast music into his ears. yoga? sure, but only if he can listen to his music.

mickey who very reluctantly agrees to stop shooting without ear protection. but only if there’s more recoil.

mickey loving color and obnoxious patterns because he is sensory seeking babey

mickey and ian having a code word or phrase for when mickey is crawling out of his skin that he uses right before tackling ian.

the gallaghers learning that if they want to show mickey affection it’s better to grip his shoulder or his arm tight than try for some light one armed hug shit. except for debbie who doesn’t give up hugging and just tries to her best to crush him.

idk man. just mickey okay? i love him

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

The only way i could see Canon Katara interested on Zuko is if he somehow did his Heel Turn long before the start of the show and has become a freedom fighter akin to Jet, but without the murder.

Obviously, this is impossible, there is no way that a young Zuko could become a better person without his exile, his enviroment is just not place that encourage

Sorry for the last question i send, i made a mistake and send it sooner than i wanted.

But anyway, what i tried to say that, even if that ridiculous scenario that i propossed where to happen, Zuko would be a very different characther from his Canon self. Plus even if he has become Katara's type, there is no way to know if Katara would be Zuko's type on that scenario lol

***

Once again, guys: pre-scar and exile Zuko was already dealing with a ton of bagagge, and post-redemption Zuko was already a "freedom fighter but without the murder." Katara saw him at this worst during all of book one, at his somewhat less of dick moments (Ba Sing Se), and at his best after his redemption - and she wasn't attracted to him at any of these points.

"I don't support war, genocide and/or murder" is the bare minimum for Katara to not want somebody dead. Compassion is an obligation, not something that immediately makes a guy be a potential boyfriend in her eyes.

We have the answer of what would take for her to be into Zuko, and that answer is not "He can't be a villain anymore" but rather "He can't be Zuko." He can't be a dork that says the wrong thing in a funny way, she'd get mad. He can't want to live in the Fire Nation, there's nothing there for her. He can't be as stubborn as she is, otherwise they're gonna fight (just look at how many times she fights with Toph). He can't take himself too seriously, she'll just mock him for it (ask Sokka).

She wants the guy that literally sweeps her off her feet to charm her, or the guy that notices she's feeling left out at a party, dances with her, and smoothly tells her to ignore everyone's eyes on them because "it's just you and me." She would NOT react well to a guy that screams "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" in the middle of their date (just see how well it worked for Aang when he went "I mean, if it was between kissing you and dying")

And we do know what Zuko's type is: Mai. Gloomy yet sweet, bitchy yet unbothered, out-spoken yet doesn't feel she owes anybody any explanations ever, can handle herself but likes being pampered, apathetic yet caring, has nothing prove yet can be quite arrogant, stubborn yet understanding, aloof to the world in general yet obviously crazy about him in particular.

Zuko might catch brief feelings for someone like Jin (nice, sweet and cheery), but long-term he needs someone as messy as himself so he can relate, but with the kind of mess that balances him out instead of encouraging his worst traits - the yin to his yang. He was not kidding when he said "You're so beautiful when you hate the world"

Katara loves life in general too much for her and Zuko to relate to each other in that regard. She doesn't even know what the word "apathy" means. She doesn't have an "unbothered" bone in her body. Girl went through a ton of trauma and still wasn't anywhere near gloomy, quite the contrary. And she has a bad temper, just like Zuko, which they both know is a bad combo, hence them surrounding themselves with more chill people (Aang, Iroh, Hakoda, Mai, etc).

They're not each other's type AT ALL, hence there being no spark when they become friends. Hence them being not just embarassed, but weirded our and uncomfortable when people mistake them for a couple.

There's a reason zutara fics re-write their personalities completely: there's no other way to force them together because they're fundamentally incompatible. The real Zuko would NEVER be attracted to the real Katara, and vice versa.

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

your hcs have intrigued me immensely and i would also like to know about funkobra if its not too much trouble :]

'if it's not too much trouble' babygirl i am literally in love with you shut up

ghoul is Never Ever Ever Ever Allowed to drive Python [kobra's bike]. well, he's not allowed to drive the Am either, but kobra enforces the rule so much harder than party. its fine though, ghoul likes riding with his arms around kobra's waist anyway :) [< oneshot idea hello.]

kobra's such a simp, like when ghoul puts even the teeniest tiniest effort into how he looks [even just like. cleaning the grease and sand and blood off his face] kobra's like. oh. hi. hello. who is this beautiful person i see. and incredibly embarrasses himself blushing. god forbid ghoul puts on eyeshadow, kobra'd DIE

one time they tried to bake together. the oven blew up.

they like watching the stars on the roof above the diner

ghoul has nightmares a lot, and kobra often wakes up in the middle of the night to find him crying, so kobra has to comfort him. usually the best way to fix it is to just hug him really really bone crushingly tight until he falls back asleep.

that's also why they never sleep in the dark, there's always a few candles on, or the blinds open so the stars light up the room

ghoul's really religious, but kobra and the witch are tight, which makes for some... interesting dynamics. ghoul's all 'kobra you have to respect her!!!' "if you're praying tell that bitch to stop resurrecting party on witchfucker wednesday"

kobra has a tattoo gun, and he's always adding ones for ghoul. the most recent ones, he got all their joy symbols done down his collarbone. kobra kisses those.

they make dumb bets all the time, like 'if this coin flip lands heads then i get all your rations for a week' "if you dont clear this jump you have to sleep outside tonight" and then jet has to come in and be like. no no. you don't get to starve eachother just because you lost a bet. you dont have to commit to the bit that hard.

kobra teaches ghoul to read, but he still likes kobra reading to him best

ghoul will only ever use petnames in spanish [i read in a fic somewhere that he was half spanish and i love that so much and now its canon to me] like, he'll never say babe or sweetheart or anything, only hermoso and los querido and mi corazon

ghoul loves bright colours and stuff, so he has a bunch of necklaces and beaded bracelets and stuff that kobra made him which he wears everywhere, even if they're under his shirt or whatever and you can't seen them. his favourite one's red and yellow.

kobra def gets really avoidant when he's anxious, and he just closes himself off from everyone, getting into a 'what if they all secretly hate me' mindset. ghoul always has to remind him no :( i dont hate you :(

they find an abandonded tin of nitrous and try to make ice cream one time, it actually works out better than they expected. buuuut then the girl gets sad because IT'S SO GOOD WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NO MORE

one time ghoul //accidentally// left his bomb wip in their room. he slept in the diner booths for a week after that.

when ghoul started dressing more fem, kobra was GONE. like party has had to leave the room several times because the staring was getting embarrassing. kobra kid simp agenda!!!! im so serious!!!

:D it is literally. eleven thirty so i need to Stop but !!!! the sillies ! !!!

[kerosene-saint]

some killjoy hcs for my like... versions of them? or maybe AU of them? I'm not sure-

FABULOUS FOUR:

Jet Star: she/her, he/him, xae/xaer. Was born inside the city but he and his mom fled to the Zones when he was really little (like 3 or 4). She is definitely a boygirl, girlboy, girlfriendboyfriend, and that boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend that the Killers were talking about. Absolutely has both a mom voice and a dad voice xae can do. Eye patch is star shaped for aesthetic reasons. Only writes letters in glitter gel pens. Father figure goth girl (no you don't get any context). Tired a lot and probably has a sleep disorder but it's not confirmed since she lives out in the Zones. Usually seems stoic or angry to others but the 'joys that know xaer know that's just xaer resting bitch face, though xae can be quite mean at times if need be. Has the most medical experience but can't really help much outside of stitching wounds up, disinfecting, and bandaging. Often looks very disheveled for no particular reason. 19 years old.

Party Poison: they/them ... just a bit of a enbywhore, just a little bit. Hides their feelings a lot since they view themself as the leader, "makes up for it" by being overdramatic to annoy people. Sassy. Has nightmares a lot due to the trauma of making it into the Zones in their early teen years. If you ask them to turn down the music and don't give an actual reason as to why they should (like overstimulated or have a headache) then they'll just respond with "LINE?? SORRY I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER HOW SHINEY THIS MUSIC IS!". Found family sucker, made their own out of the Fab 4 (and also sort of the 109 radio crew). Unlabeled. Has definitely kissed a 'crow just to catch them off guard so they could dust them. Or kissed a crow for fun just because they could. Kobra Kid is their brother. Would be the unreliable narrator. They have dyscalculia, which doesn't come into play very often in the zones but is why Jet is the one who handles all money transactions. Supposedly a prophet? their night terrors turn out to be sort of prophetic. 18 years old.

Fun Ghoul: Uses all the pronouns, every neopronoun, every binary pronoun, doesn't really have a preference. Completely Zone kid, born and raised. Feral little guy. Has a bit of a sweet tooth (a nack for explosives). Running away from the consequences of xer actions. Burnt off their fingerprints on one of their experiments. Really smart but acts dumb because it's fun to trick people (they are a little dumb though). Cartoon character energy. Sniffs people??? Nearly goes cage mad every other week due to understimulation (which is why her finger prints are burnt off). Sharp teeth that they shaved to be that way after they got bored of blowing up things one week. Sometimes Jet will take them driving or racing to keep cake entertained. Possibly bisexual?? Bites people as a love language. Somewhat violent and is prone to throwing bombs to let off steam instead of yelling at people. Gets into fights every so often that Party has to break up. Probably has a fair amount of hearing loss due to being dumb and exploding things without ear protection. Around 17 years old (clouds exact age is unknown since xei never kept track and don't really have paperwork due to being born in the Zones).

Kobra Kid: he/him, they/them, ve/ven/vens/venom. Silent violence type. Either non verbal half the time or just doesn't want to talk. Left blood in your Valentino white bag. Has memory problems which is why the Fab 4 often take a lot of photos so ve can remember. Just a little bit crazy, but more so protective. AUTISM. Special interest is snakes currently since he found a book on them. Got the vodka taken away from them after they tried to chug it on a dare from Ghoul. Mood swings, often rages out and joins Ghoul in blowing things up with bombs. Has a hard time crying though, it's really tough to get them to cry which they both love and hate. Cat energy. Owns a katakana cause why not and also ven is super cool so of course. Has Pathological Demand Avoidance (or what some people with it call Pervasive Drive for Autonomy which honestly I like better) and isn't aware of it, Party has found quite a few work arounds from trial and error from living with him as his primary caretaker for a while. 16 years old.

109 RADIO CREW:

Dr Death Defying: he/him, but has grown to not care as much what is used for him. Keeps insisting that he's fucked up from the war and that he's dangerous but really he's like a dad for everyone. Wears silly patterned socks a lot. PINK GUN! Has lived through a lot including multiple assassination attempts. Pan, but is extremely defensive??? Pro-respect women fr "It's okay to murder but it's not okay to disrespect women.". Raised Show Pony and Cherri Cola for the most part, being the two's biological uncle. Way too avid music listener, when he's not running the radio station he's finding new music (and sending Show out to get said music). Hasn't actually lived through a lot, he's died multiple times but he's friends with the Witch, her being an old friend he knew before she became the Witch, so he ends up getting revived. Iron deficiency, which eating the food that they can get out in Zones has not helped in any way, is the main reason he uses a wheelchair (along with joint pain and such). He has a couple different wheelchairs, including one that is all terrain which he can pop a wheelie on but he refuses to go out as much so it doesn't get much use. Taught the 109 radio crew and the Fab 4 sign language and holds classes for 'joys wanting to learn it. Around 36-38.

Show Pony: they/them primarily but uses a few neopronouns (which I've yet to decide on). Weirdly obsessed with water for some reason, any safe (or even not safe) body of water they've probably jumped in. Definitely has danced in the rain like a crazy person. Memory problems and often forgets things they've said more than things they've done. When they were younger they were a fairly shy kid, after a while they had a sort of personality change. Paints their nails a lot, sometimes paints others as well. Feminine in the way a gay guy is feminine but also they're enby. Pushes their heart shaped sunglasses down their nose so they can look over them like an annoyed librarian. Has probably been deficient in a lot of things before and sometimes just lays on the ground when they feel sick because it's the only thing that seems to help. "The power of friends and GUNS!". Likes to tease people, especially cis guys, because they find it funny when they get angry and frustrated. Does the exact same thing to 'crows because seeing a crow lose control and try to kill them while they do barely anything to dust them is entertaining. Also a bit of an enbywhore like Party. They got given their first pair of roller skates by Dr D when they were 10 and now barely take them off. When they aren't wearing their skates they sometimes trip over their own feet because they still have the motor memory of skating. 19 years old.

Cherri Cola: he/him, they/them. They pirated their gender from BL/ind, they call themself illegally male. Mixed emotions kinda of person, looks angry when they're not. Definitely get angry while also appreciative, tough love-ish. Also prone to just… crying for no reason? can also fake cry really well which he uses to confuse 'crows. Pathetic little dude, coughing blood and then asking if he looks good. Kind of a bitch but that's okay. Punched a wall once because he was "full of love". Eating ibuprofen like it's a snack (much to the dismay and concern of Show and Doc who often try to hide ibuprofen bottles so they won't take them as often). Gets mad and slams his fists against a table or punches a wall and doesn't think about how much it would hurt until after he's done it. 17 years old.

[the-daddy-here]

since everyone’s doing it im doing it too fuck you

RIDE THE CYCLONE SWING AU. (swap au diff ride.)

you know one of these things? yeah.

(also i am in the midst of drawing these designs but if someone would draw the skrunkys i would love you endlessly)

—————————————

ocean oconnell rosenberg - the rudest girl in town (swapped with mischa)

- ocean is the stereotypical high school mean girl, think regina george. she’s honestly the bitchy-est person ever and would CONSTANTLY make fun of noel but keep him around as her “gay best friend”. she’s fake nice to the point of you wanting to throw up. HATES constance as she’s her “competition”.

noel gruber - the unluckiest boy in town (swapped with constance)

- in this au noels upbringing was very carrie-esc. his mother wasn’t supportive of him being gay and made him pray literally 10 times daily (this kid is like twelve). his dad left when he was around 7 and nearly threatened to send him to conversion therapy and was extremely abusive, so really fun. therefore he never really came out except to ocean, and as a result much much more quiet and reserved then canon noel. he also is MUCH more emotional and instead of angry outbursts he just cries (noel developed DID when he was very young, he made monique as escapism from his mom and she became an introject. he was an unknowing system until he died and found out WHICH WE WILL GET INTO LATER.) the whole “i lost my virginity to a carnie in a” thing is basically “i sold my body for the last year so my mom and i wouldn’t get evicted.”

mischa bachinski - the strangest boy in town (swapped with ricky)

- mischa received MUCH better treatment from his adoptive parents as he came to uranium younger (around 10 or so,) his mother died only a few years after he moved and he was destroyed. so, he forced himself to do well in school and therefore became obsessed with his grades to the point where it was UNHEALTHY. he doesn’t really have a lot of friends and a lot of people in town disregard him for being weird and offkey. noel does admire him a lot though.

ricky potts/john doe - the one unidentified body of the swing amusement park accident (swapped with jane obviously)

- his “head” is an empty astronaut helmet, he uses little jet pack things on his shoes to move around. :) ricky is pretty much nonverbal and given he has.. no face.. he resorts to a thumbs up or down to communicate. ricky doesn’t remember anything of his life, only his love for the stars.

penny lamb - the most obsessed girl in town (swapped with noel)

- this is basically legoland penny but she is 10x more batshit insane. she has an OBSESSION with johnny moon (thanks tammy) and will not shut up. she is a major fucking drama queen who is kind of really sad on the inside? she wants to be a singer and marry him btw

constance blackwood - the smartest girl in town

(swapped with ocean)

- swing au constance is much more confident in herself then canon constance. she is naturally smart, but not a total bitch like ocean was, she’s actually really fucking sweet and people don’t give her shit for it. noel and her are friends and she is the MOST SUPPORTIVE GIRLFRIEND OUT THERE, she constantly tries to get him to end his “friendship” with ocean even though he’s a little delulu. constance is the student council president and wow actually helps the student body? and a great fucking person overall.

monique gibeau - shes just there (I KNOW YOU CAN’T ONLY HAVE ONE OTHER ALTER IN A SYSTEM, LETS JUST SAY WHEN NOEL DIED SHE WAS JUST THE ONE TO BECOME HER OWN IN THE AFTERLIFE?)

- would sell her soul for noel. this kid is her baby brother and would do ANYTHING for him, even killing. she absolutely hated noels mother and father (when he was around) and would front sometimes ONLY to get noel to his room when they were fighting (poor bby would shut down). when they all died she was just kinda there yk, occasionally going full mama bear on ocean yk how it is.

(uniforms for anyone that wants to draw them /nf)

**noels blue thing is a cardigan, penny has a bow tie, mischa has round glasses and that’s a hoodie around his waist lol

[immunologies]

look at my land developer dawg i’m going to jail 😫

lmao hiiii everyone! i’m anwar (not hadid) + always writing for underused model fcs but anywhooo — thank god for reopening bc i was supposed to app during the first launch but i was on vacation so my activity would’ve flopped real bad BUT… I’M HERE NOW… a lil jet lagged still but fuck it we ball :’) i present to you: iida!

navigate: general info / about / pinterest

sparknotes!

tw / suicide

okawara yosuke, 33 (proud twink death survivor btw he left that long haired era behind in his mid 20s), born and raised in fukuoka prefecture so you know he’s a bearer of the masculinized stereotype that kyushu men have but surprisingly his ego isn’t as fragile as i would expect it to be — i wonder why?

lower middle class to middle class financial status for the entirety of his childhood / it’s one of those things where as a kid you’re like “well, this is it” because you’re not fully aware that your family doesn’t have money on top of being surrounded by other kids who, in return, also come from families without bands so it is what it is / it can’t be that bad when your necessities have always been met

tbh there’s not much to write home about in terms of his childhood as in it was fortunately(?) uneventful for the most part despite starting off rocky: his mom was barely twenty when she birthed him, two freshly married young adults rushed into the hard-bitten chaos of childrearing, do they resent bro in absence of trying to enjoy the beginnings of their married life? probably, but it doesn’t matter by the time his younger brother is born, soo la voo or whatever the french be saying (tiktok reference btw if ur uncool)

yosuke is your average kyushu boy growing up: he spends his time outside rather than inside with his head in the books (it’s the same shit his teachers would always say about his lack of potential, ie: he’s lazy), has boyish fights with his younger and complete opposite of a younger brother, tries his best not to piss off his stay-at-home mom and stay away from his chronically emotionally constipated aviation mechanic drunk for a dad, you get the idea

…UNTIL the voices started to become apparent more than ever and he tells his mother who dismisses it but is reminded of her grandfather who unalived himself from alleged schizophrenia but nobody in her family knows if he ever got tested for it (y’know, if it was a genetic hereditary thing) or if it was just the aftermath of unresolved trauma/ptsd because grandpa fought in the war (you know which war) NOBODY KNOWS A GODDAMN THING. except yosuke as a child hated going to see his relatives in the far village/countryside on his mom’s hick side

lmao but when yosuke told his mom “yeah girly pop dad’s gonna have a shitty liver if he doesn’t stop drinking so much in the next couple years or so” is when she drops his ass off at a mental health facility so she definitely prioritizes her man over a kid that she wasted her 20s raising! (she’s definitely an unevolved libra no shade to yall sorry) but anywho! he’s diagnosed at 17, life is looking brighter(?), but his “schizophrenia” isn’t something talked about much at home because let’s be serious. it’s fucking abe shinzo’s japan at the time, we do not talk about shit like this

yosuke goes on to carry two jobs after high school because his parents didn’t save a college tuition fund for his lazy, non-academically inclined ass so it’s up to him to be the architect of his future / he’s psyched about entering the aviation department of kyoto university after working his ass off by trying to build a humble living but somebody’s bored and filthy rich daughter from a zainichi korean family comes into his life and what does he do? say goodbye to the ol’ pilot dream and traps this woman so he won’t ever have to worry about money like his family did

mind you he actually had love for the old girl! but he’s a gemini and gemini men get bored when you’re not their outstanding type or half as witty or clever as he may be. he knows that he’s settling for what poor lee jiyoung can do for him so after dating in college, yosuke goes on to marry the woman but never goes on to tell her about his “schizophrenia” because he’s scared that it’ll ruin his marriage (spoiler alert: it did)

so uh *scratches head and turns the page* they end up divorcing because his condition worsened as a result of his body becoming “immune” to the medications because he never had schizophrenia in the first place (ie: iida canon) — and he tried saving the relationship for the sake of his position at tk group, he really did, but at the end of the day he’s just some penniless, opportunistic man who failed to completely use up his wife’s beneficiaries. but again, he’s a gemini man who’s good at playing the part of using his “mental health” as a crutch of their failed marriage instead of being exposed for taking advantage of his ex-wife financially

(trust me he’d rather be that Type of Shitty instead of portrayed as the Exploitative Type of Shitty because it gets some pity points on his end. believe the scheme!)

so now? okawara yosuke takes up the tk group’s little passion project proposal with goero because it’s a chance at redemption. he needs to prove one way or another that he’s worthy of his job, that he’s the right man for it, his undying loyalty to the corp (questionable :3), and he’s taken the more political and diplomatic approach of gravitating/winning the trust or appeal to goero’s inhabitants instead of the founding families ‘cause his coworker’s already doing that anyways — he understands his shortcomings as a foreigner (more so as a japanese guy telling yall what to do with the land so goero can prosper financially and commodity-speaking for trade.. and commerce..) so if he can strengthen his morale to the people even if it doesn’t mean the quota won’t be met — yosuke would prefer that for the sake of ethics. he will promise the residents of goero that much: business or not.

that is all. i think. :-) i’ll be yapping for specifics on discord if needed be

personality!

likes to think of himself as an ambivert over being written off as an extrovert which is kinda true? despite being a professional yapper with those he’s suuuuper comfortable with, he finds that people who don’t match or vibe with him tire him out very quickly / genuinely a very friendly person and is emotionally inhibited probably as a result of his career where logic/numbers/analytics are concerned so yosuke prefers to focus on reason over the “possibilities” … even tho he would like to be that optimistic / isn’t one to have an extreme temper, but can be prone to outbursts if incompetence is in question / really. really. hates the notion of being black-or-white on many matters as life usually puts him in the grey area so. u know. atm doesn’t have any ulterior motives because he doesn’t have it in him anymore to be evil or whatever. he ran out of plans. just trying do the right thing from here on out, so, let him help you! bro’s probably a lawful neutral man i know i’m sorry for being boring :/ c’est la vie

connections!

i prefer brainstorming over anything and i’m down for just about everything so hit me

[ryololart]

After the War

Summary: Evanegline teaching at Quantico years after the ending of MWIII

Warnings: Mentions of gore and slight sexual topics if you squint real hard.

Notes: I wrote eight pages on a google doc in two hours because I have barely written anything in months.

I hate teaching. I always have, always will. All the eyes on me in the room like vultures staring from overhead, just waiting for a scrap of meat to fall out my mouth in hope for enrichment. Don’t these kids know I can’t help them?

Price told me this would be good for me. To get out of the house, out of the garage, back in front of people. I wish he knew who was wrong. I was meant to sit there for the rest of my days and sell fixed up cars on Facebook marketplace. Letting my uniform and metals get dusty in the closet. However, according to him, that won’t do. When I left to get on a plane to fly out to Virginia I had to set my profile on hiatus and the messages that flooded my inbox all were in a panic. Where are you going? Sell this to me before you leave? How much for the Rav? I’ll give you 1,000 pound and come get it if you sell me it before you go. My buyers need me, not some snooty rich Quantico recruits. 

These kids need a teacher and I’m barely half a person. Laswell, a friend of his from the C.I.A. apparently personally asked me to come. According to her, my experience in the field and my grit would shape these recruits up. The class itself was about anti-terrorism and who better at the head of it other than one of the two remaining survivors of SAS Team-141. The most famous anti-terrorist team to ever exist says the internet. They make me wear a badge on my jacket with my affiliations and having the skull, wings, and daggers sitting right on my shoulder surely has brought enough unwanted attention in the two days I have been here.  So many gasps and sighs, enough to think this was a porn film. 

All the students are in their uniforms, here at Quantico they are forced to wear black trousers and a tan blazer. They tried to fit me for one, but I waved them off. I told them I wear military pants and a sweatshirt and  nothing more or nothing less. This wasn’t to be different, but I do not need to abide by these standards when I am the one doing a favor here. A boy sits in the front, a few crooked teeth, jet black hair that has been gelled back, and a nasty look in his eyes. His notebook and papers still sit in his bag, unwilling to bring them out until he sees it is fit.  A few rows back and to the right sits a girl with short ginger hair, freckles framing her cheeks, and bright blue eyes. A pen is poised in her hand and she looks at me with almost an alarm in her eyes. These are two kinds of people in this world, those who are passer-byers, ones that are willing to find their way when it comes to them, and those who are willing to grit their teeth and crawl on their hands and knees to get what they want. I found that I have been both of those people and the difference between them is something finite. 

“Hello,” I stand in front of the desk that has been pushed to the front of the room. “My name is Captain Evangeline Thomas, please do not call me that, just Captain or Thomas is fine. I will be clear now, I was asked to teach as a favor to a dear friend of mine. I do not know how I can be of most use to you so please, tell me as we go.” I lean back against my desk, the clinking of the braces on my leg makes me shudder, even so many years later.

“You are really, The Evangeline Thomas? The one on SAS Team-141, the sergeant master?” The ginger girl says out into the open air of the classroom. I can feel the words hit me like glass, clawing its way down my throat and restricting it, closing and pulling shut. I have to cough for fear that the oxygen will soon run out. 

“Yes, I was. I, however, do not hold that title anymore,” So much for introductions. “Why don’t we go around the room and just say our names and ranks. If I am going to teach you I wanna know your names.”

It takes five minutes for the class of twenty to go around and say those basic things. A few stumble on their words or have to ask what we are doing and I nearly throw the yard stick at the front of the class at them. The kid in the front row’s name is Connell, and the girl’s name is Diana. I don’t know why these two kids stick in my head, maybe it is the way she is chewing her gum so aggressively or the way he keeps his stare at the floor. 

“Right so, Laswell wanted me to give a few lectures on anti-terrorism. However, I have never been the academic type. So, how about I give you a few stories and we dissect them,” I move to the board, the short distance between the desk and chalkboard makes me have to plan my steps carefully. “We want to know three things when it comes to cases like this. What is the act of terrorism? How do we stop it? How do we prevent it from happening again?” The chalk skates across the dark green and I forgot how my writing looks like chicken scratch. 

“You know just how to make it look like it could be readable but when you get a good glance it goes right back to scribbles.” His voice echoes in my head like it always does and suddenly the ring on my finger starts to itch again. 

“What happened to your legs dude?” A voice breaks out as I finish the last question mark. His eyes find mine and I notice they are almost orangey-brown, like the dirt in morocco. His notebook has moved from his bag to his desk but it remains under open. The question itself does not surprise me, that is something everyone asks. Over the years I have found silly ways to answer, since technically, it is classified. I told Price’s daughter when she was old enough to ask if it was a bear attack and that I won. Ethan and Lukas were told that I was working on a plane and it blew up in front of me. I suck in a breath before answering, almost being able to taste the gunpowder and blood on my tongue again. Smell the charred flesh and feel the  bits of plastic melting into my skin. Acknowledge it.. Let it flow down the stream. I give a small smile before responding. 

“I got caught by a pack of C4 under a table on a mission to track down the worst Russian-terrorist in history,” I write down Operation Kingfish. “Our first mission we are looking at Operation Kingfish. Does anyone have any clue what this is or is too classified and buried underneath the books.”

A boy in the back of the class raises his hand, he has thick black glasses, shaggy brown hair, and his blazer isn’t buttoned and creased on every inch. “I have been working on cleaning the database of missions, specifically on anti-terrorism. Operation Kingfish was the mission where Team-141 thought they knew where Vladimir Makarov was hiding out.”

���Good,” I wrote Makarov, “What is your name kid?”

“Tyler.”

“Know anything else?” I ask.

“The date was October 8th, 2013, otherwise no.” He says, I hear the slight lisp on his th’s.

“Ight, pay attention cause I ain’t telling this story twice,” I pull the chair from behind that desk that squeaks in protest across the room right in front of the first row. “Take notes if you want, I ain’t assigning no work or nothing. I have no stake in your education, so what you get from this class is up to you. What I am about to say is heavy so don’t be wussing, you hear me?” 

I begin the story and swallow all the resentment for myself. This moment is surrounded by black tar that bubbles and threatens to pull me down head under. I haven’t spoken of this moment since I wrote the report so many years ago, but Cindy, Price’s therapist of a wife, tells me it's good to talk about it. That I have to, or else the tar will drown me. This entire memory feels like a snake bite, it hurts fast and quick and then the ache sets in. 

“As our darling Diana told us at the beginning of the class, I was the sergeant master of the team, meaning for those who aren’t military here, I was the main technician. However, I didn’t just work on our equipment or vehicles. When we had missions like this that were high-stakes, trying to capture the literal head terrorist of our war, all of us were on deck. I also was in the office when we planned it. General Shepard hadn’t betrayed us yet and he would frequently ask me as one of the only American’s on the team for my thoughts on the plan. I would suggest different weapons or carriers. This mission took place in the Karkonosze mountains, located in Ukraine. The elevation and where the base was located needed a specific plane to fly overhead.  Specter 6-4, an AC-130 Gunship is the reason the boys and I got out of these that day. There was not enough cover even with a Delta sniper. He told me he wanted me on the ground if I wasn’t flying the plane. So there I was in combat after a while of being over watch or comms. It was I, Captain John Price, Sergeant John MacTavish who we called Soap. Lieutenant Simon Riley called Ghost, and my boy sergeant Gary Sanderson AKA Roach. Sandman and Frost, two other members of the Delta team, were back up waiting for us. This would be the first of the battles with Makarov himself and changed the course of history.”

I stop and look out into the room, I had gained all the eyes on me at this point. I said the names of the most famous soldiers in the world as if they were nothing. Price, Soap, Roach, Sandman, Frost, and Ghost. Soldiers who were beloved and regarded as heroes. All of them died, other than Price and I. However, Connell’s notebook still sat closed.

“What was your name in the field, Captain?” A girl from the second row asks me. She reminds me of someone I knew and I have to blink before I speak again. She had tanned skin and long black hair braided into a bun. Moles cover her face and arms like constellations and if I didn’t recall her name as Mary I would have called her Liana, my best friend growing up from home. Liana is dead and so is Marcus, her brother. 

“It was Tex,” I narrowed my eyes. “I was called an EMT as a joke when I worked at my first base in southern Texas. When I moved to England and joined the team they renamed me Tex for Texas. Soap said EMT was stupid and I never corrected him.” 

I can hear Soap’s brittle voice with his stupid accent say my name. “Evan, you let them call you EMT? That’s crazy bonnie, you are surely too tough for that. We’ll call you Texas from now on, Tex really.” His laugh was contagious and for someone I had only known for a few hours, he made me laugh harder than anyone before. 

“Tex, I like it.” A warm hand brushes a hair out of my face as I stand before him in the cover of the front door. Even if we are standing before our house, the moment itself: with his hand on my cheek and me on my tiptoes, stealing a kiss from his lips made me feel something I had never felt before. Home. 

I shake my head and continue, the memory fading just as quickly as it came over. “The day couldn’t have been planned better, the weather, the timing, everything. According to reports we had gathered for months, Makarov had been hiding there. God, when we got there ourselves his shit was everywhere. As you can tell where this was going he wasn’t actually there and the entire mission was a bust, yet we did get something out of it. Intel and a folder, all information he had forgotten that kept his trail alive. This is where we knew his real plans for the war, not just the ones that were clear with the start of WW3. No, nothing would prepare me for seeing the knife on the wall holding a picture of my team and X’s threw the faces we had lost. To this day I can tell you every member of that team, how they died, where they died, when they died, and who I had to send their dog tags back to. He had planned to kill every single one of us with detailed notes on who we were. My folder had information about myself I didn’t even know. My fucking deadbeat father’s middle name was on that shit. In anti-terrorism, a lot of the time they wipe our traces clear. No record of our existence. No birth certificate, social security numbers, ID’s, god even my pilot’s license. Everything is highly classified and protected or down right removed. This corner is tricky business as any information on you will be used against you, and most of the time those people are dangerous to a new level. These aren’t your typical war criminals. These are seasoned killers, cyber-hackers, and experts in weapons you couldn’t name in your dizziest daydreams. The room where this information was, was deep in the base. It took going down so many hallways and rooms, we were tired and the fear was heightened. Scepter 6-4 was raining down bomb after bomb and after so many flashbangs my head was pounding. We all were not right when we got in that room and saw the record of our friends' deaths being tracked, no one was looking out for a pack of c4 under a table. Price called the bomb too late. I had always had bad hearing and should have never been in the field. I worked on planes and different kinds of loud machinery that damaged my hearing and I could never have  heard the beeping of the timer. If he hadn’t called it, I would not be standing here. I managed to push off my feet towards the door but it was too late. The damage was done.” 

I stopped and noticed that everything was silent. In the first part of the story, people were whispering quietly or tapping their pens. Now, everything has ceased. Not a single person made a sound. I sigh and slip the coffee from my bag out and take a sip. I found that coffee was better than Adderall, the high of caffeine was smoother than a straight stimulant. Cindy made me go clean, and said I would never meet Thalia if I didn’t. Price and her kid is my entire world and I couldn’t imagine not being in it. So, I quit the drugs and became a babysitter. A weird turn of events for sure. My man always told me he wanted to make me a mom someday and  I told him if he ever fucks me and we aren’t on some form of birth control, I’d chop his small British dick off. He never brought it up again. 

“So, the gorey details now. My legs almost got blown clear off. The initial explosion shattered my left leg and the right leg collapsed under pressure from the right one not standing up well. I won’t go into everything as it even makes me uncomfortable.” Even talking about it, remembering the white flash of pain, makes the nauseous come back. “They say breaking your femur is the worst pain, and as someone who broke two, I can confirm. Soap hit his noggin pretty hard but otherwise I took the brunt of the hit. Luckily for me, 141 was my family, literally. One of the members was my husband and the rest were basically my blood brothers. Even when I couldn’t recognize their faces because every bit of sense I had was being overclocked by pain, Gary carried me out so that the rest of the team could shoot our way through the lines of soldiers coming to finish the job. If he hadn’t carried me out, I would have died on that floor, still moaning from the pain, unable to even conceptualize a scream.” 

In that second I can’t bring myself to continue. Seeing their faces in my mind, Johnny, Gary, Simon, makes the world around me swirl. Nothing can stop the grief from filling my body. It is as the atoms that make me up decided they can’t bond anymore and want to separate. Pulling me in all different directions, slumping me to the floor. The familiar feeling of pain overrides my public embarrassment to be in this class. These stories shouldn’t be told in a classroom, no, they should be shared around friends and family at a bar table. Remembering those who brought us here, that makes this world livable. Everyday I wake up and I see their photo framed on my nightstand. I say good morning to them, each one by name, and I start my day. These were real people, ones I loved, and they should not be examined by those who will analyze every move they made. They should be cherished by the ones who knew them, for everything they did right.

“Thank you.” Connell says, the words catching me off balance. His notebook is open now, and my story is jotted down in simple lines, but only the ones that detailed a circled name at the top. Roach. The anger that was in his eyes is now plain admiration. Not for me, for those I tell in my words. Then I know why I know his eyes, they are the same as Gary’s. I knew him, he was the little boy who received Gary’s burnt dog tags. I look at the name tag on his blazer which was perfectly ironed and set, Connell Sanderson. 

“I don’t personally remember the rest of the story,” Feel it and let it pass, the sweet voice sings in my head. “The record says that in the attempt to escape with Delta right with us, due to our gunship being shot down, Price stayed behind to make sure we got to the evac helicopter. His sacrifice let me keep what was left of my legs. He was in a Russian Gulag for three years until we rescued him, even though we thought he was Makarov. He was asserted K.I.A. the day we lost him and I remember waking up in my hospital bed and seeing my best friend and my husband crying together for him. Those boys don’t even cry when they lose a finger, no, but the loss of our Captain brought them to hiccupping sobs. The moral of this story is that being a part of this, takes everything from you. Your identity, your friends and family, your life. Personal honor does not justify any of this, most joined not out of pride, but out of duty. I joined the military to pay for my brothers’ educations and to get out of the hell that is the border of Mexico and Texas. I stayed in the military because I saw what I had to lose and I joined in the fight to protect it. I lost so much, but you find meaning again. That is the nature of us humans. Simon Riley and Gary Sanderson were lost in 2016 when General Shepherd betrayed us. Simon was my husband and Gary was one of the men I was closest with. He was Simon’s best man at our wedding and often stayed with us when we had breaks since he didn’t have a house in England.  I lost John MacTavish only months later to Makarov himself, he was my best friend. He stayed with me when Simon got deployed without me and taught me every drinking game I know. Only John Price and I remain for the team of over twenty. What I leave you with today, is know what you are walking into as we go over these cases. They only get worse from here, this is just one of hundreds of missions I was on. Next class we look at the beginning of the end, be ready.” 

I leave the class still sitting in these seats and an email in my inbox. 

SAS. OUTLOOK.GOV

From: Kate.Laswell@CIA.GOV To: Evangeline.Thomas@SAS.GOV  Subject: Regarding Class

Thomas, I don’t know what you said, or what you did. I don’t care, don't tell me, just show up everyday for the rest of the semester and I’ll make sure I send you a huge check and an Edible Arrangement from The Commissioner himself.  Better yet sign on for two semesters and I will get you a house in DC. Keep up the good work Captain. Signed,

Kate

Kate Lawsell, Station Chief Case Officer, CIA

[tinyinvadr]

Alright, here we go, Rhombus of Ruin time! This is gonna be a shorter fic since it’s a shorter game, and after this it’s Psychonauts 2!

Psychoborrower in the Rhombus of Ruin

Chapter 1

This was it. The moment where all of my training was about to pay off. Against all odds, I did it. I conquered my fears, foiled an evil plot for world domination, and became a Psychonaut.

But that was only the beginning of my story.

I was heading out on my first official mission: to rescue Truman Zanotto, Grand Head of the Psychonauts. And for a mission like that, I couldn’t ask for a better team.

Piloting the jet were agents Sasha Nein and Milla Vodello. Camp counselors by day, super psychic agents by… well, it was still daytime, so I guess it’s more of a “when they’re needed” thing. Getting to go on a mission with them became a dream of mine from the moment I met them. They were so cool, and I learned so much from them.

Also with us was Grand Head Zanotto’s daughter, Lili. To people who don’t know her, she seems like an ordinary girl on the surface. But there’s a fire within her. Literally. She is… really good at burning things, it’s a little scary.

Stationed in the bathroom was Coach Oleander. Sure, he may have stolen a bunch of kids’ brains with the intention of putting them in armored death tanks only the day before, but after we helped him work out his issues, he was a changed man. Well… mentally, anyway. Not much we can do about the constipation. Poor guy had to have been on the toilet for an hour, at least.

And of course, where would I be without my best friend, my partner in crime fighting, and the guy who made all this possible?

In a short time, I’d come to have a very high opinion of Raz, especially considering how much I resented him at first. I found myself frustrated at his optimism, and I hated the advantage he had against me with him being a human. But it turned out that we had a lot more in common than I originally thought, and when I made the choice to reveal myself to him, he didn’t think any less of me.

I tried not to verbalize that too much, though. He already had a big enough head, he really didn’t need the extra ego boost.

Unfortunately, we weren’t making much progress on the mission at hand. Sasha managed to get in contact with HQ, but they dismissed him, assuming it was just something about camp. Which meant it was up to our little team to carry out this rescue mission without any assistance from the rest of the organization.

While Sasha and Milla worked on trying to track down Truman, the rest of us were left sitting around.

I felt really bad for Lili. She expressed that she’d been kind of cold towards her father recently, feeling embarrassed when he would visit her at camp, and her previous feelings of doubt that the Psychonauts were even needed anymore.

I wanted to reassure her, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Even though we’d both been going to camp together for several years, I kept my distance from the other kids, so we didn’t really know each other all that well. But hey, if I was able to form a strong bond with Raz in such a short time, I could easily do the same with her.

“Hey… We’ll find him.”

Lili sniffled. She’d been crying, but she might’ve still been getting over that cold she had. With everything Raz and I went through, I didn’t really stop to think about things from her perspective. The past couple days were really rough for her, too. She got kidnapped, and then the next morning, the same thing happened to her dad.

I noticed Raz had gotten quiet, which was weird for him. I would’ve thought it would be hard to get him to shut up. He was practically living his dream. Well, so was I, but I’m not nearly as chatty as him.

My question was answered when I heard his voice echo in my head.

Hey, Flint.

Huh?

I’m practicing Clairvoyance. Trying to see things from other peoples’ perspectives, y’know?

Yeah, sure, but I’m just sitting on your shoulder right now. The only change in perspective you’re getting is shifting an inch to the right.

I guess… Hey, wait, look at me for a second.

I turned my head slightly so I was looking at Raz’s face. His eyes were shut tight, and he was deeply concentrating, his consciousness residing in my head instead of his own.

Whoa, I look huge!

Heh… yep.

Man, no wonder you were scared of me.

Please, as if I could be scared of you. You’re just a big goofball.

To be perfectly honest, I was terrified of Raz the first time I interacted with him in person. Especially since I was under the impression he was trying to sabotage me in the mental world, which turned out to just be my own paranoia. It wasn’t something I liked to think about, but it was the truth of how I felt at the time. Unfortunately, you can’t exactly hide your thoughts when you’ve got a guest in your mind.

It’s okay if you were scared. I get it. And I know we didn’t get off to the best start.

Hey, don’t worry about it. I was being stupid.

No, no, it makes perfect sense why you acted the way you did.

This could go on for a while. We both had a habit of being overly apologetic.

Let’s just agree that all of that is behind us.

You’ve got it, buddy. So, you excited for our first official mission?

Yeah… Wait, why are we still talking in my head? I’m right next to you.

Oh, right, sorry. My sister and I used to do this all the time, so I’m just used to it.

You have a sister?

Four siblings, actually.

Makes sense, considering your dad-

Nope, we’re done talking about this!

Heh… he’s too easy.

In a desperate attempt to kill boredom, Raz practiced PSI-Blasting at stuff in the jet. In doing that, he noticed one of the overhead compartments was locked, and marked with the Grand Head’s seal. He blasted it open, but all that was in there was a music box.

It toppled out of the compartment, and Lili caught it, a look a relief on her face.

“My Dad’s music box! What’s this doing here?”

Her first instinct was to try and form a connection with her father by using Clairvoyance on the music box, but she wasn’t able to reach him. Raz offered to try it for her, and it seemed to be working somewhat, but he described a strange interference that was blocking him out.

At that, Sasha instructed all of us to focus our thoughts on Raz and Truman in order to strengthen the connection. I contributed as much as I possibly could, but I didn’t really feel like I was much help. I’d seen Truman before when he would visit Lili at camp, but I didn’t know him on a personal level. Still, I focused to the best of my ability.

We were able to strengthen the connection enough to where Raz could see the lab where Truman was being held captive, but he wasn’t sure where exactly it was.

After digging around for clues, the situation became increasingly concerning. First of all, Truman was unconscious, with a Psychoisolation Bonnet over his head. As for the power source, it was a mineral Milla identified as Psilirium.

She and Sasha went on to explain that Psilirium is a rare and incredibly dangerous mineral that can cause psychics to hallucinate. Even just using Clairvoyance on someone who was standing near it was enough to make Raz dizzy.

He continued his search, and from there, we narrowed down the location of the lab. It was an abandoned Psychonauts facility located deep in the ocean, in a place called the Rhombus of Ruin.

There were plenty of legends about the place, mainly spread around by the Psychonauts themselves. After all, few were brave enough to venture to a place where people supposedly go missing, so it was the easiest way to keep the general public away from their research facilities.

We set a course for the Rhombus of Ruin. It would take a while to get there, and Raz was completely drained from the Psilirium exposure, so he was knocked out for most of the trip.

Lili was in better spirits since we had a location on her dad. She wound up the music box, letting its tune play.

“Don’t worry, Dad. We’re almost there.”

A couple hours later, we were finally approaching the Rhombus, and Raz also woke up around that time.

Sasha assured us that everything would be fine, but I had my doubts. Even with proper protective gear on, Psilirium sounded like serious business. On top of that, the last thing Raz heard before he came back to us was a warning straight from Truman’s mind, begging Lili to stay away because it’s too dangerous.

Just as we were flying over the Rhombus, something strange happened. The jet’s controls had been compromised somehow, and we were set to crash right into the ocean.

I held onto Raz as tightly as I could, but I lost my grip on his shirt as the plane took a nosedive. Everyone else had seatbelts on, but Coach and I weren’t so lucky. We both went flying towards the front of the plane. Thankfully, he caught me before I could crash into anything.

“Hold tight, Flint! We’re going do-!”

The impact knocked me out. What happened after that, I think I’m better off not knowing. I don’t wanna think about how long we were underwater, or how close I was to drowning. Let’s just say it’s a miracle I made it, and it’s a good thing Coach caught me when he did.

All I know for sure is that when I woke up, I had ended up in the heart of the Rhombus of Ruin.

[bookworm-called-bear]

What’s One More Pantheon?

“Um, Annabeth are you seeing this?” Those were the words out of my mouth that usually meant something bad was happening. But this time, I was mostly just confused.

In front of me was a one-winged massive black bird with sharp teeth tearing through manhattan. It was chasing a girl that I had never seen before and said girl was flanked by a guy a head taller than her. They were both in forest green shirts and black cargo pants, and the girl’s hair was tied up into a ponytail.

Now I was used to other Pantheons. I have a cousin-in-law (kinda) who was a Norse demigod and I have the number of a few Egyptian magicians. However this particular monster and these particular kids I had never seen before. I couldn’t even pick out their pantheon by their appearance if I tried. The girl has hair that was jet back but looked iridescent when the sunlight hit it just right. One of her eyes was the rich brown of soil and the other was a bright green. The boy she was with had hair so platinum it looked silver and eyes that matched.

“What Seaweed Brain?” Annabeth said, turning from her observation of the streets around them to see the odd scene that I had witnessed. The look of confusion on her face let me know that, she definitely didn’t really know what’s going on. Just when Annabeth was going to open her mouth, the girls eyes scanned to land on me. She narrowed her eyes before her entire face broke into a grin. She tapped her companion on the shoulder and started sprinting straight toward us.

Both Annabeth and I shifted towards our weapons. We were far too used to people being monsters and causing images to get us to help them only to try to eat us. What was really impressive was how much of a lead they had on the bird thing. The duo stopped right in front of us.

“V why the hell,” the guy started saying until the girl, V, shushed him.

“Hi,” she said, bright and cheerful, “you can see that giant bird right?” I nodded dumbly and she smiled even brighter, if that was possible.

“So they’re part of the group,” the guy said again, checking his shoulder at the bird. He was holding onto a bow with a lot of artistry and had a quiver over his back.

“No clue,” the girl says, “but he feels like Ocrimira and Duberdicus and I had a vision of him and his girlfriend a little bit ago.” The guy that V was with sighed slightly and shifted his bow to hold his hand out.

“Hello, I’m Mateo and this is Valeria. I would introduce myself properly but…” he gestured vaguely behind. “Val you might want to hurry up.”

“Oh, yeah, she said, turning away from Annabeth who had been having a hushed conversation with her, turning to me again. “You wouldn’t happen to have water on you, would you?”

Instead of answering verbally, I just pulled out a water bottle and handed it to her. She then handed it to Mateo and flicker her wrist where an axe appeared in her hand.

“Think you can shook that into his mouth? I’d hate to kill him but he’s been messed up so…” Mateo smiled and nodded at her before she grinned and ran right at the bird.

Now I’ve done some pretty impulsive things in my life, including run at a monster, but this girl might beat me out. She trusted two strangers to have water and not kill her or think she’s crazy and now she’s jumping to climb onto the one-winged bird, making her way toward it’s beak and jamming her axe in it’s beak to keep it open.

Mateo readied his bow and at Valeria’s thumbs up, shot the arrow and the water bottle into the crows mouth. As it hit the back of its throat Valeria grabbed the axe, the weapon disappearing from view as the massive bird turned into a murder of crows.

Me and Annabeth surged forward as we realized that Valeria was falling through the air. Mateo simply put a calming hand on my shoulder as the tree branches from the park nearby reached up and cradled her gently, bringing her back to the earth.

The three of us walked over to the park where Valeria was still in the tree, reassuring the branches that she was okay.

“See,” she said as she spotted us, “I’m with the boy and girl from the vision. And Teo is here and he’s always protected me. Can I come down now?” The branches, as if answering released her from their grasp and she slid down the tree. Kissing its trunk, she whispered her thanks before turning back to us.

“So, we need a proper intro. Breakfast?”

[poeticmoonspirit]

Jetara One Shot idea: While shopping at the market a thief steals Katara's necklace and Jet & Katara chase them down to dish out justice.

to loathe the dawn

~~~

It was a fairly sunny day in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se. The usual bustle of the crowds seemed even more evident today, probably because this was when all the vendors came by at dawn with new produce and meat to sell. They always seemed to have everything at discounted prices, hoping to get more customers throughout the day.

"It feels like a crime to be up this early." Katara yawned. The swordsman smirked at her evident annoyance.

"Are you kidding? This is when everything gets marked down by almost double the price! Best time to shop if I'm being honest." The waterbender rolled her eyes.

"Of course you would enjoy being up this early, you weirdo. I just want to climb back into bed and sleep—at least for three more hours! I don't even think my eyes are fully awake yet."

A lazily wrapped arm encased Katara's waist as he pressed a soft but quick kiss to her temple. She couldn't help but grin at that. "Fair enough, I always forget waterbenders hate mornings."

She squinted at the light peeking its way through the clouds on the horizon, the pain of it seeping into her eyes. She groaned. "Let's just say that the sun and I don't exactly get along."

Jet came in closer, nudging her ear with the bridge of his nose. The action ran shivers down the girl's spine. He whispered lowly, "Maybe the sun hates you because you're the only thing hotter than it."

"Corny!" She laughed, their giggles bouncing off each other as they continued to walk through the market hand-in-hand. A pair of watchful eyes followed their figures as they walked, relishing in blue betrothal necklace in their hand.

｡⁠*ﾟ｡⁠*ﾟ✧✧

"And that'll be three silver coins." Jet checked his pockets for their pouch of coins he carried.

Katara remembered that he gave them to her a while ago while he left to use the bathroom. "Wait, I think it's in my pocket actually. Hold on."

She checked the top of her sarashi, horrified at the feeling of her bare skin on her neck where her mother's necklace should've been. Jet's eyes also grew wide at the realization, then simmered into anger.

Katara never lost her necklace. It wasn't something she'd ever lose or misplace. She wouldn't. It was the only thing left she had of her mother's. Tears welled up in her eyes at the reality of her situation. Her breathing was growing ragged as she tried to find words. Suddenly, there was a movement in her peripheral, a subtle yet suspicious one. Jet seemed to have seen it too because within seconds he grabbed her hand and ran towards the person, leaving their coins and supplies behind.

He knew that when they came back to the hideout, Longshot would question why they came with less than they left with but he knew Sokka would absolutely understand the situation immediately.

The couple ran, chasing the person down all while leaving a string of confused and angry people in their wake. Katara couldn't care less; she had to get her mother's necklace back and she had to do it now.

They split up, Katara agreeing to go to one end of an empty alleyway and Jet to the other. They sealed off both entrances, backing the thief into a corner. Katara had already uncapped her water skin and had water gathered at her fingertips, ready to strike.

"Don't you know better than to take what's not yours?" The thief donned a cloak that covered most of their face, so she couldn't see what they looked like, but as soon as she heard a deep chuckle, she knew she was dealing with a man.

Great, another idiot scumbag.

"Why would I fear a waterbender? Let alone a woman?"

Great, another sexist idiot scumbag.

Jet quickly pressed the tip of one of his hook swords into the man's neck, drawing a small line of blood. His eyes holding barely restrained anger. "I don't think you're in any position to be saying that right now."

Katara smirked, bending a huge amount of water from her water skin. With a quick twist of her fingers, the water turned into sharp icicles, pinning the man to the alleyway wall. His eyes grew wide at this turn of events, his skin growing pale.

Katara then saw a slight glimmering coming from the man's pocket. Angry, she dug into it despite his protests and felt her blood revert back to its normal warmth at the familiar grooves of the blue pendant in the palm of her hand.

She clasped the necklace back onto her neck, thumbing it once more to ensure its security, then sent a grateful smile to her partner. She faced the pinned man with a cold smile.

"Nice doing business with you."

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*

"This might be awful timing but," Jet tucked a loose curl behind Katara's ear. "You were pretty hot back there when we cornered that asshole."

She couldn't fight the smile that bloomed on her face. Leave it to the tall idiot to make her smile while her emotions still ran heavy.

"Hey," his voice turned serious. "All jokes aside, I'm really sorry for what happened. I should've been paying more attention. All kinds of thieves show up at the market, especially in the mornings."

She squeezed his hand in hers in reassurance, "It's not your fault, but just know that you so totally owe me for waking me up this early." He brought her hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss there. She'd have to add 'thieves' to her list of why she hated mornings later.

"Anything you want, sweetheart."

[scorpsik]

Uhm, I am very new to Tumblr and I am an old lady and don't know how to work it properly LMAO But as well as painting, I also write. Here is an angsty Emily/JJ Paris fic. Also on A03 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43893136

Don't Leave Me Alone

The drive here was quiet. After their easy conversation in the jet, anxiety had begun to flood Emily as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac here in Paris. The driver – one of Clyde’s guys, no doubt – ferried them from the airport and JJ tried to make conversation, noting the sights that were new to her, but Emily just couldn’t force words from her throat. It wasn’t until they were inside her new home that she managed to speak.

“Hey, it’s not bad.” JJ nodded as she set their bags in the hall and regarded the small but modern flat. “What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded, then realised she hadn’t spoken. She cleared her throat, her voice a little croaky. “Yeah. Clyde did good.”

JJ ushered Emily into the sitting room and sat her down. “Coffee? I think Clyde would have made sure there’d be some here for you.”

Emily laughed softly. “Cigarettes too if he knows me well enough.”

“Since when do you smoke?” JJ asked.

“Since forever off and on. Besides, we’re in Paris: it’s rude not to.”

JJ fixed them both a coffee and sat beside Emily. “You lived in Paris before, right?”

Emily nodded. “A couple of times – with my mom’s job.”

“Did you like it?”

A shrug. “Kinda. Everywhere �� every country – they’re pretty much the same for diplomatic circles – same sort of homes; same functions; same fat old assholes to mix with.” She looked up at JJ and decided to try harder to be upbeat. For JJ’s sake. She really didn’t want to have JJ fretting about her when she leaves. “Uh…when I got the chance to sneak out by myself and look around, it was pretty cool. I like the language and the people here.”

JJ offered a half smile. “It won’t be forever.” She said softly.

Emily didn’t answer, she just took a sip of her coffee. ‘Forever’. Things had already changed ‘forever’. Her body… her mind. Her friendships. “How are the others? Reid? Morgan? Everyone?” she asked. She asked on the jet too, but found herself needing to know again, needing to hear their names so she could picture them in her mind, needing to say their names aloud so that they felt like they were with her.

“Still hurting.” JJ replied honestly. “You know that, Em. Don’t think about it.”

“Hard not to, y’know? I..It’s only been a couple of weeks and I miss them, JJ. I really miss them.” She paused and chewed at her lip. “Have you… seen my mom? Or my dad?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah. They’re pretty broken up.”

Emily nodded and stared into her coffee mug. “We never were close – you know that. I used to think they hated me, y’’know, when I was a kid. I still figured they don’t exactly like me. They’re proud of what I’ve achieved, I know that, but…I never was what they wanted in a kid. But… if they’re that upset, then maybe I was wrong. I…I really didn’t want them to be upset. To have to grieve.” She shook her head. “Shit Jayje… what the Hell do I say when I come back? IF I come back. How do I apologise to them for this?”

JJ shook her head. “I …I don’t know, Em.”

“What a fucking mess.” Emily breathed, wincing as a pain shot across her stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a pain.”

“You should try and rest. Relax.” JJ said.

Emily snorted. “Right.” She sighed at the sarcastic way that sounded. “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help. And I’m a lousy patient. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.” JJ smiled. “Look…I’m gonna go out and get you some things. Clyde’s provided the basics, but a girl needs more than that, right?” She paused. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

Emily scoffed. “How much trouble can I get into here?”

JJ raised a brow. “YOU Emily Prentiss? You really want me to answer that?” She watched Emily’s face – there was a smile! It was strained and weak, but it was a smile! “I’ll be back in an hour.” JJ assured her.

Emily nodded. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Clothes, food, a few toiletries… hair dye, right?”

“Don’t forget the wine.”

JJ chuckled. “With your meds? Uh-uh, Prentiss.”

“Trouble-fete.” Emily muttered.

JJ frowned. “Hey, no fair… what did you say?”

“Spoilsport.”

JJ grinned and squeezed Emily’s arm and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Be back soon, hon.”

Emily watched her go, her heart beginning to race as soon as the blonde was out of sight. She could feel her chest tightening and her breathing getting faster and she willed herself to calm down. She closed her eyes and focussed on her breathing. Three fucking seconds. That’s how long she was alone before the panic started to rise. Three fucking seconds.

“Christ Prentiss, you gotta get a grip.” She hissed at herself. “In 48 hours you’re gonna be alone for a lot longer than three damn seconds.” She sighed sadly. “A lot longer.” She wandered across to the little kitchenette, poured a glass of water and threw a painkiller down her throat. She was trying to wean herself off them, but the tightening of her chest seemed to be making her stomach wound tug and …shit, it wasn’t that it was particularly painful anymore, but… it was nice to be able to blur the edges of everything for a few hours.

She padded to the bedroom and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. It was quiet. She couldn’t ever remember a silence like this. In the hospital, there was always noise – monitors, footfalls, doors opening and closing, nurses on rounds. And on the jet here, there was the sound of the engine… JJ’s voice. But here, now, she was truly alone. She closed her eyes and listened to the faint murmur of life from outside on the street – but it was getting late now and this was a quiet part of the city.

She licked her lips and stood before the mirror, shedding her shirt and removing the bandage around her middle. Her eyes stared at her stomach, deliberately avoiding rising higher to her breast and the hateful mark that Ian left her with. She let the bandage fall away and moved closer to the mirror, tilting it slightly so she could see the wound more clearly.

“Ugh.” She groaned. It was ugly and large and red. It distorted her shape, leaving small lumps and crevices where the flesh was once smooth and pale and perfect. “Fuck.” She sighed, poking it distastefully. Scars weren’t a new thing for her – she had more than a few already… but they were faded and fine and…this THING was monstrous. Her rebellious eyes moved defiantly to her breast, to the healed brand. The light caught the edges of its shape and her stomach turned over in revulsion at the memory of how it felt… how it smelled… to have that clover burned into her.

She could feel sweat on her brow and upper lip just from looking at those damn wounds. She didn’t want to look at them, let alone touch them and clean them. She stared at herself for a long time. “Hello body.” She said absently to her reflection. “This is you now. Me now.” She ran her hands over the breast that was still in tact and unsullied, then trailed her hand across to the other, her fingers stuttering as they reached the brand. “Still me.” She breathed, the pads of her fingers brushing over the scar.

Taking a deep breath, she let her hands drift down her abdomen and to the big wound. Part of it was completely numb to the touch and would probably be numb forever… and parts were tender and made her stomach flip unpleasantly when she touched there. “I guess those bikini days are over.” She said to her reflection, before bursting out laughing - and almost immediately the laugh became a wailing sob.

Emily swallowed her cry down and wiped quickly at her eyes. “Don’t you cry, Prentiss.” She whispered, pulling her shirt back on and hastily refastening the buttons. She heard the front door close and she wiped her eyes once more.

“I’m back.” JJ called from down the hall.

“Yeah. Be there in a sec.” Emily called back to her, exhaling and checking her face in the mirror. Her eyes were a little red, but she figured JJ wouldn’t make a ‘thing’ of it. She found JJ in the kitchen unloading bags of groceries.

“I got plenty of meat and veg – you need vitamins and fibre and protein, so there’s beef and chicken and pasta…” she paused and regarded her friend. “I just… I bought a lot of stuff.” She held up a box of hair dye. “Deep red. I thought it’d suit you and I can help you with it.” She found herself rambling, trying to fill the flat with chatter. “I bought some flowers too to brighten the place up and… here, have a smell.”

Emily closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. “Thanks JJ. You shouldn’t have gone to that much trouble.”

“No trouble, Em. Are you hungry? I’ll fix us a bite if you like..?”

The last thing Emily felt like doing was eating, but she nodded. JJ was probably starving. “Sure.”

JJ smiled and nodded. “What would you like to eat?”

Emily shrugged, feeling useless. “Whatever. Whatever you like.” She said, trying not to sound too disinterested. She never was a big eater. Dave used to nag her about eating properly and – Dave. God she missed him. He’d make her eat pasta. “Pasta.” Emily said softly. “Just a little for me, though.”

JJ’s smile grew in relief. “That’s good.”

“Want some help?” Emily offered.

“You good in the kitchen?”

“Lousy. I can boil water if it’s a good day.”

JJ chuckled. “Okay – you’re on tomato and onion chopping duty.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The time in the kitchen felt almost like old times for Emily. For that time, she forgot her wounds and even that they were holed up in Paris. It felt safe and familiar and she had to stop herself from throwing her arms around JJ and sobbing in gratitude. They ate in an easy atmosphere: comfortable silences and gentle talk about TV shows and JJ’s kids, and Emily found herself cleaning her plate – small portion as it was. JJ watched her eat like a proud mother hen.

“Ice cream?” JJ asked softly.

“Nah, I’m good.” Emily sighed. “I can’t believe you bought ice cream, Jen. I’ll be twenty stones when I get back.”

Get back.

The thought stopped her and she swallowed down the sadness that washed over her like grief. JJ didn’t need to see it, didn’t need to know how close to the edge of breaking she was. It wasn’t fair to dump that on her friend.

“So what is French TV like?” JJ asked once the dishes were soaking in the sink.

“Like most TV: full of those dreadful American shows.”

JJ grinned. Hearing Emily making a joke was a big step forward, she figured. It helped reignite the hope that maybe, just maybe, this might have been, well maybe not the ‘right’ decision, but definitely the ‘best’ decision. Maybe. Hopefully. God, she prayed it was. They sat close together on the couch and watched a few old US reruns of Cheers and whatever other English language or subtitled crap they could find until JJ realised that Emily had fallen asleep, her head resting against JJ’s shoulder.

JJ watched her, listened to her slow, sleeping breaths, and she gently smoothed Emily’s hair away from her eyes. After another ten minutes or so, Emily sighed softly and stirred.

Lifting her head and rubbing at her eyes, Emily apologised. “Sorry, Jen. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” She yawned.

“Let’s hit the hay, then huh?” JJ suggested. “Do you… need any help getting ready?” JJ asked.

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll yell if I need anything.”

JJ watched Emily heading to the bathroom and she sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. It had been a hard day – a hard few weeks – but today was stressful and emotionally draining, and JJ’s head was pounding from trying to tiptoe around the situation…. From trying to block out the knowledge that she’d be leaving tomorrow night. Abandoning her friend to… to what? Loneliness. She chewed at her lip, trying to think of a way that she could stay in touch with Emily. A way that no one – Ian Doyle in particular – would be able to pick up on. She racked her brain over it as she threw a pillow and some blankets over the couch and began to make up a bed for the night there.

JJ busied herself loading the dishwasher and putting the last of the groceries away until Emily emerged from the bathroom in sweatpants and a thin, baggy jumper.

Emily’s eyes noted the couch made up as a bed. “What’s that Jayje? You can’t sleep on the couch – your back would never forgive me.”

“There’s just the one bed, Em.”

“Yeah, I…” Emily sighed and dropped her eyes. “I thought, maybe... it’s a big bed.” She shrugged. “Would you share it with me tonight?” She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry, Jayje… I don’t want to make anything awkward. I just… I just want your company a little bit longer.” She shuffled her feet and whispered “Shit. Sorry.”

“Hey Em.” JJ took a hold of Emily’s shoulders and smiled at her. “Which side of the bed do you want?”

Emily couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face. “Thank you.”

When the bathroom was free and JJ stepped inside, she noted the regimented order that Emily had her medicines arranged in – pills; creams; dressings etc. They took up more than half of the cabinet. The hair dye and scissors sat on the shelf ready for tomorrow… the shower and toilet had a rail attached to the wall – that would be Clyde guesstimating her mobility, ensuring that Emily could move around if she was less mobile. JJ was relieved that those things would likely be unnecessary, but it showed her the level of caring that Clyde had for his former colleague. She wondered absently whether Emily and Clyde were ever more than teammates?

She cleaned her teeth, washed her face and slipped into her nightwear. She was strangely nervous about tonight. She had shared a bed with Emily before on cases. There had been times when one of them needed the other’s company, or times when it was just too damn cold to sleep alone. But tonight? Tonight felt different. JJ had never seen Emily like this. It had always been JJ needing comfort on hard cases, and Emily needing warmth on cold nights. But this was the other way around: Emily needed comfort and JJ wasn’t exactly sure of the best way to do that. Tomorrow Emily would be alone, and JJ didn’t want to make that harder. She took a breath, aware of how long she’d been in the bathroom. When she emerged, Emily was sat up in the bed looking just as anxious. Seeing that anxiety made JJ cave. Emily needed her. “You okay, Em?” JJ asked softly, slipping under the covers next to Emily. “Your feet are cold.” JJ noted when Emily hadn’t answered.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry – you’ll warm up.”

Emily shook her head. “No. I mean… this. I don’t want you to feel awkward.”

JJ slid her arm around Emily’s shoulders and drew her close. “It isn’t awkward. We’re friends.”

“Thanks.” Emily husked. “I just… I just need someone.”

“You’ve got me.” JJ whispered as Emily’s arms wrapped around her waist and held on tightly.

“I felt so alone in the hospital. And… before when Ian reared his ugly head.”

“You’re not alone tonight.” JJ reminded her. “I’m here. I’m right here.” She felt Emily’s shoulders shake softly and tightened her grip, rubbing Emily’s back gently as she quietly cried.

*

When Emily’s eyes opened, they snapped open sharply, a scream caught in her throat. She sat up, bolt upright, her drowsy brain taking a moment to figure out where she was. Her jumper was stuck to her body with sweat and she wiped at her brow. She had dreamt about Ian. Again. About that awful night in the basement. She could feel the coldness and smell the dampness. She could hear his voice and feel his breath, his hands. She exhaled slowly and glanced to her right. JJ was curled up, sleeping soundly. She stirred slightly - and Emily held her breath – but JJ did not wake.

Emily slipped carefully from the bed and clutched at her stomach. The wound was aching, the internal bruising from the surgery still not completely healed. Her breast felt heavy and sore and she cursed at her brain for conjuring that. The brand was HEALED. It DIDN’T hurt. But still her breast still seemed to be tender. “Psychosomatic.” She hissed quietly to herself.

She wandered out into the sitting room and sunk her weight onto the couch. She fought the urge to grab a painkiller. She didn’t actually need one and she was afraid of letting herself fall into a routine of using them as some kind of release from reality. She knew all too well how habit could become addiction – and she had to stay alert. Just in case HE came to find her.

She shuddered at the thought, wondering how she could fight him off in her condition. She knew Clyde left her a gun – she found it in the bathroom while JJ was shopping. It was hidden carefully, but she knew where to look. At Interpol there were always certain places that notes or supplies… weapons… information… were hidden. Taped under sinks or behind mirrors. The first thing she’d done on arriving was surreptitiously check those places – and Clyde hadn’t let her down.

Tomorrow. No. She looked at the clock. Later today JJ would be out arranging her paperwork and new passport and identity. And then... then JJ would be gone.

“There you are.”

Emily jumped at the sound of JJ’s soft voice. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

JJ shook her head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Nightmare?”

Emily nodded. “I’ve had worse.”

“Are you coming back to bed?” She extended her hand.

Emily took it and let JJ lead her back to the bedroom. “I’m sorry I woke you. Worried you.” Emily said softly.

“Don’t apologise. That’s why I’m here – for when you need me.”

“What if I need you tomorrow, or next week, or next month or…next year.” The thought of spending a year (or more, her brain furnished) stuck here under an assumed name, having to pretend, was a very daunting one.

“I’ve been thinking about that.” JJ nodded. “Online scrabble.”

Emily laughed loudly. “Scrabble? Are you nuts?”

“Hear me out!” JJ laughed, slipping into bed beside Emily. “We can play, and we can have stupid handles and no one will know it’s us.”

“Stupid handles, huh? Like what?”

JJ sighed and shrugged.

“Cheetoz Breath.” Emily nodded.

JJ gaped. “Are you trying to tell me something, Emily Prentiss.”

Emily grinned at her.

“Okay smart ass – what’s yours?”

“Goth Zombie.”

“That was fast!”

“Yeah. You should see me play scrabble.” Emily deadpanned.

“Am I locked into that name now, huh?” JJ asked.

“Yep.”

“Fine.” JJ folded her arms and pretended to pout.

Emily chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Thanks JJ. For everything. I know it’s been tough on you, with the team and all, but…I really do appreciate it.”

JJ smiled softly. “I wish I could do more.”

Emily nodded. “I wish I could’ve said goodbye to them – the team, I mean. And my parents. I feel so guilty. They think I’m dead and I’m not, I’m sat here in Paris of all places eating and drinking and breathing. But…I still feel dead. I’m dead because apart from you, Hotch and Clyde, I don’t exist anymore. I’m someone else now: new name, new personality. Pretending again. Lying again. I’m so scared what might happen if you get Doyle and take me back there. They know about the lies from my Interpol days and now… they’ll just see more lies. How can I look them in the eyes, JJ? How will they ever be able to trust me again?”

JJ shook her head. “I don’t know. But I trust that they will see why we had to do this. I trust that they’ll just be happy to have you back. I trust that their friendship is deeper than you think it is, Em. I hope you trust in those things too.”

Emily said nothing.

“Em?”

Still nothing.

“I know you’re thinking about something. What is it? Come on.”

Emily sighed heavily. “If I just…disappeared then you wouldn’t have to keep up that lie anymore. You could just make my death real and I’d go somewhere, start again. I could make sure Ian never found me.”

“He found you before.” JJ reminded her gently.

“So what? I won’t have anyone close for him to target. He could just do what he always wanted to do and just kill me. And it wouldn’t matter, because I’m already dead to everyone I care about. But now? What is this, JJ? You lying to your friends – to your husband, for God’s sake; Hotch lying to his bosses; me stuck here and Ian – Christ knows where he is. He could be on the fucking metro right now, just waiting for you to leave so he can finish me off and if he does that then this whole fucking charade is for NOTHING! You will have alienated the team for fucking NOTHING!”

JJ stared at Emily in shock, the anger and hurt stunning her into silence. Emily was out of bed again and pacing the other side of the room.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” She muttered half to herself. “GOD!” She stopped her pacing and turned to JJ. “Jesus JJ…I’m sorry.” She hissed at herself. She seemed to spend her whole fake life apologising. “I didn’t mean most of that.” She conceded reluctantly.

JJ scoffed. “I think that’s the most honest you’ve been for a while.”

Emily shot her a scathing glance.

“I mean, shit Em… you should have told us sooner about Doyle! As soon as you knew, you should have come to us.” JJ’s own anger was rising. She’d had hardly any sleep since Hotch came up with this crazy ass plan and the stress of lying to the team at work, and Will at home and watching Emily recovering from her wounds in hospital had been eating away at her.

“It wasn’t your problem.”

“Well it sure as shit is now!”

“Well I didn’t exactly ASK you for any of this did I?” Emily yelled. “I was in a FUCKING COMA when you decided to kill me off.”

The room fell into silence.

Emily turned her back and stared out of the window into the darkness outside, her hands gripping the window sill. She heard the bed creak and soft footsteps padding towards her.

“We didn’t know what else to do.” JJ whispered. “Yeah, it’s a shitty plan, but… we had no time to think. All we wanted was to keep you safe.”

“I’m not made of glass.” Emily hissed angrily, pulling away from JJ’s reaching hand. She turned her back to her friend. “I’m not really angry at you.” She said, although her tone was still sharp. “It’s Ian. God… Ian. You know… there was a time I thought I loved him.” She admitted.

JJ frowned. “For real?”

Emily nodded, her head dropping. “It was probably five months into the job, maybe six, I’m not sure. He took us – Declan and I – away to Vienna. For a weekend there was no business, no guns… just the three of us.” She laughed softly. “Declan was three at the time and God, he loved to cuddle up to me and have me read to him. And Ian was so gentle and… it’d been so long, JJ, living Lauren’s life and… I let myself fall for him. I’ve never been in love, you know? And… it was nice to….to let myself be in love.”

“Oh Em.” JJ sighed, reaching out again to Emily. This time Emily didn’t shrug her away, she accepted the embrace and they held one another, all anger forgotten.

“It’s nearly dawn.” JJ noted softly. “Are you tired?”

Emily shook her head.

“Coffee?”

“Please.” Emily watched her friend head through to the kitchen. Today was the day. The day the JJ would leave.

The day when she would have to start afresh. The last day of Emily Prentiss and the first day of whoever would be printed on the documents that JJ would collect this evening. Who would she be? Who had Clyde crafted for her? The two women sat in the kitchen in silence as the sun rose fully. There was really nothing more to say. Emily was already mentally starting to distance herself from JJ – JJ could feel it. She could see it – the way that Emily seemed to be holding herself: more restrained, more formal. JJ guessed it was the start of the new person that Emily would have to be here in Paris.

“Will you cut my hair?” Emily asked.

“Are you sure?”

A nod. “I need it to be different. The colour you picked? That’s good.” she said.

“Are you ready now?”

“Yeah.”

JJ spent almost the next hour cutting and dyeing Emily’s hair. They were slight changes – a little length taken off and a dark, rusty red dye… but the difference in Emily was quite startling. JJ could truly see a new person emerging in front of her.

“I’ll be gone most of the day.” JJ said softly, her eyes still adjusting to the new Emily. “I need to sort everything with the bank and Clyde’s contacts… get your paperwork and finances ready. Collect your personal papers and background. Will you be alright?”

“Fine.” Emily nodded.

JJ eyed her closely. “Okay. I’ll head out after breakfast.”

Emily nodded, not letting JJ see her anxiety. Not letting herself feel it. In fact, she decided to get some supplies herself while JJ was out: wine; cigarettes; some more clothes; a knife. Just essentials.

“I shouldn’t come back here tonight with your papers.” JJ said softly after they finished a light breakfast of eggs and toast.

“There’s a café near here. Quiet. Le Peleton. We could meet there.”

JJ nodded. “Seven?”

“Seven.”

“And… Thursdays, right? Online?”

Emily offered a smile. “Thursdays.”

JJ took Emily’s hand. “Take care. Please.”

“You too. He’s still out there.”

JJ returned her smile. “We’ll get him. We will.”

The smile that Emily produced didn’t fool either of them. She was more scared of having to go back and face everyone who believe her to be dead than she was of facing Ian.

JJ’s eyes held hers as she stepped to the door. Her soft “Bye.” was almost lost.

Emily pressed her hands to the door as it closed. “Don’t go, Jen.” She whispered to the wood. “Don’t leave me alone.”

[coquinhacomlimao]

Here's an OC for diabolik lovers!

Helena Dias

26y

178cm or 5'10"

72Kg

Unknown race

Appearance

She has many tattoos, including in her face (serendipity above her right brown and a tear under the right eye) and neck (a bat stabbed by a dagger). Almost all of them are in old school style.

Also many many piercings on her ears, on the right eyebrow, both sides of the nose and connected by a chain, snake bites, septum and bellybutton.

She is strong and curvy (imagine maki from jujutsu), with very defined muscles an a little fat around her stomach, arms and legs that stayed there after having kids

Her clothes are usually very elegant. Tailored pants, long skirts, fitted shirts, stilleto heels and golden jewelry are her go-to

She does wears much more layed back outfits ah home, mostly jeans shorts, tank tops, flannel shirts/pants, very large t-shirts and sweaters and always with jewelry. Imagine the chicana style - makeup

Her hair us jet black, straight and very shiny. Her eyes are also a deep black and her skin is an medium olive tone.

Personality

To people from outside she is formal, elegant, polite yet firm. She imposes respect, a very cunning woman, listening more than talking and adapting quickly to the social cues.

Her personality drastically changes when it comes to her children, friends, sister and parents. She is sweet, patient, funny and very energetic (aka loud and agitated af). She has no problem being ridiculous to entertain the kids, gossip with mom and younger sis and laugh loundly with her dad. Sometimes she can even be obnoxious, the family is a complete separate world for Helena.

Karl Heinz brings the worst in her. She berates, insults and is honestly ready for a fight, if not bonded by a blood contract she would kill him.

Even hating Heinz, she kind of understand his late wives, and wold not hold hard feelings against them or her children. She thinks of them as victims of Heiz and his plans, just like her. She tries to be kind and patient with the Sakamaki boys, but still hold her limts firmly.

Her biggest flaw is thinking she knows better than other people and ends up not listening. Other things are that she has a hard time acknowledging some aspects of her abuse, she is smarter and more socially adaptable that most people, wich made her believe that because it happens to her is not as bad as it would be with a "normal girl"; Takes too many responsibilities as punishment for her "wrongs" of the past; To her kids, she has her moments, sometimes is kind of childsh and acts more like a older sister, and sometimes is a bit overprotective, it comes from the struggle of becoming a parent too soon, but the kids are well cared, loved and she is working on her problems.

Lore

I'm lazy so i just google translate what i had written lol sory if anything sounds odd.

No beta reading we die like real man AND remember Helena developed much faster than others kids, but it doesn't means she is mature

I lived the first years of my life in a relatively normal way, with my parents, José (Zé) de Santana Meira Dias and Naomi Abe Dias. We lived in the ABC region of São Paulo, in a lower middle class area, and we attended a Catholic church in the region. According to my parents, I was never a completely normal child. I reached my developmental milestones much earlier, despite having normal growth, and I started to be rebellious as soon as I learned to form complete sentences. At the age of 6, I already knew how to run away from home to do whatever I wanted, and sometimes I even ran away from school. Nothing my parents did helped. I even learned how to pick locks, poor things. I also didn't have many friends my own age. I liked talking to much older children and even some teenagers. According to my mother, my favorite group of friends were some kids who smoked marijuana at night in the square near our house. Again, poor my parents.

In 2007, when I was 8 years old, my mother became pregnant with my sister, Sophia, and my parents decided to move to Japan because it was a safer country, and they believed it would be easier to control me. As soon as we arrived, we met Father Komori, who was in charge of the parish that we attended every day when my father got home from work. My sister was born the same year, and we lived in a small, old apartment. My father worked in a car factory and my mother was a housewife until my sister turned 3 and could go to nursery school. This was the time when I became more well-behaved. I remember wanting to help my parents because life was not very easy at the time. Most of my extracurricular activities were at church, so my contact with hunting creatures of the night began. Father Komori noticed my above-average skills when I was around 10 years old. He taught me how to hunt and take care of the church, and by the time I was 13, I was already hunting. From that moment on, all my free time was spent at church or hunting. My parents were happy that I stopped getting into trouble, and the worst thing I did was sleep in some classes. At 15, I had already become a high-level hunter, already recognized in the field. And I was a stubborn child; I truly believed that I was capable of hunting the king of the vampires and becoming the best. Today I understand that I was a child without real stimuli until I became a hunter; it is common for gifted children to misbehave in order to find stimuli. I fell in love with hunting because it was the first challenging thing I had ever done in my life. It was the first time I was truly afraid of failing, and victory after so much anxiety was better than any drug I had ever tried.

My plan and research to find Karl Heinz began in March 2013, and the hunt itself took place in the second week of July, when my school was visiting Osaka. I tracked Heinz to a local hotel and almost killed him. The knife hit him square in the heart, but he used his powers to go back in time and stop me from killing him. That day I almost died. I'm sure Heinz spared me out of curiosity. I was admitted to a local hospital and my little escapade was covered up by Heinz. He made everyone believe that during one of his visits I was hit by a speeding car. In that hospital room, Heinz offered me a deal: I would have children with him, and in exchange he would give me whatever I wanted. At the time, my lack of maturity only allowed me to see the opportunity to acquire more power, and I only calculated enough that Heinz couldn't take it back. I didn't expect that I would truly love my children. Not that I had many options. I'm sure that if it weren't for the deal, Heinz would find another way to get me involved in his experiments, with or without my consent. When I was 16, I got pregnant for the first time, and my parents were desperate. At the time, I told them that I didn't know whose child it was, and that I had been with several boys, but they didn't believe me, especially since I showed no interest in dating or interacting with boys. At that time, they assumed that Father Komori had taken advantage of me, but they had no way of proving anything and knew that pressing the issue could complicate our family's situation a lot. So they decided to return to Brazil.

My sister was devastated. She loved the church and loved Japan. She missed her best friend, Yui, the priest's daughter, and didn't understand why our family had to move so abruptly. But Sophia had always been a very sweet and understanding girl. My parents said that the priest had done something very bad to me and I wasn't safe there. My little sister had always been very sweet to me, and she was a great aunt.

Despite the absolute sadness my parents felt at the time, they welcomed my son, Yuri, with great love. Since there had been no sexual abuse, I wasn't sad either. In fact, I was very excited about the possibility of learning new things, becoming stronger, and hunting better. Heinz began sending me letters through family members. I received several magic books and letters from him detailing how to start learning. With my very religious family, I would hide them under the bed sheets. In return, Heinz received frequent reports about my pregnancy and Yuri's development. As we expected, Yuri was an extraordinary child, but like me, he grew at the normal speed of a human. My recovery and development in magic and my abilities were also absurd, both parties were happy with the agreement. To be honest, I did not immediately become attached to my son, almost all the care in the first years of his life was done by my parents. I barely spent time with him, and my parents believed that this aversion was due to the abuse. I can hardly imagine how much suffering my parents went through because of me. I started to do some hunting in Brazil just for fun and training, but it was enough to draw the attention of other hunters who did not want competition and of vampires who clearly did not want to be hunted. Then, on a summer night at the end of 2015, my house was attacked by a pack of creatures of the night. There were races that should not even be on land, such as Ghouls, waters and vipers. Fortunately, my knowledge helped me protect my family, and I could no longer hide anything. I had to explain everything that was happening. I can tell you it was a long week, my parents had a hard time processing everything. My mother also told me that I am not my father's biological daughter. I always knew that I was not conceived in the marriage, but my mother told me that they broke up for a few months before getting back together and, in the meantime, she got pregnant by a man, but he disappeared and my father decided to raise me anyway. There came a point where they had to accept that the agreement with Heinz was over and my only option was to keep having children until the agreed number. We moved to a new house, I now saving money from my hunting, and we were able to afford a comfortable life. I started to get attached to my children a few months after my daughter was born.

The Kids

Yuri Dias

10y

Has a strong and lean body, a buzz cut and a brigh smile.

My son Yuri is a kind, responsible and very lively child. He likes to take care of his younger siblings and loves them very much. He repeats the positive parenting that I used with him on others and is always willing to help. It is very easy for him to make friends, he is polite with the older ones but still very fun. He acts affectionately with me, and I always make sure to satisfy all of his emotional and physical needs as a child. Our relationship is very close and his clear and calm way of dealing with feelings makes it very easy to be this boy's mother. Despite this, his flaw is that he gives too much of himself to others. He doesn't mind being treated badly if it is good for the younger children, which makes me very worried.

Camila Dias

7y

Lean and tall, runs a lot, is a tom boy and the funniest kid

Camila, like Yuri, is a helpful and kind child, but she has no problem starting a fight to defend herself and her siblings. She is extremely funny, she is the typical child without a restraint on her tongue who doesn't care a bit about what others will say. She is very mischievous and lively, but in a good way, always letting her curiosity lead her to new adventures. I go a little crazy with this girl but also full of pride. She and Lucas are the perfect combination for siblings, Lucas is more relaxed and happy around her, and she is more restrained about what is responsible and what is not.

Nicolas Dias

3y

He is a little short, lean like his older sister

Very shy and introspective, well behaved, loves to be held

Unlike his other siblings, he is quiet, shy and reserved. He is suspicious of others and does not get along with strangers. He also does not like a lot of excitement and prefers to be in my lap, despite this he plays a lot with his older siblings who always try to make sure he is included. He is not an emotional child, basically never cries, does not make noise and rarely complains. However, he becomes much more open with family members and in these moments he lets loose.

Hanna Dias

11 months

Her body is chubby, short and strong

Very moody, energetic, talkative and independent

She is very similar to Yuri, both keep their true feelings to people close to them and do not like strangers, but she has a more irritable personality, she is also restless like her other siblings. Hanna is a funny girl, with people close to her she complains and cries a little as soon as they do something she does not like, but with strangers she screams as if she was being beaten. The girl makes faces of pure disgust at anyone who tries to force contact with her, and hates being held, only accepting it when she is sleepy.

[atangledfate]

She didn't look happy about her gear busting on her, as her eyes turned to the gear laying in the dirt. Her eyes narrowed and there was a little anger in them. But not at Surge, more at her inability to find a solution to the heat problem. It could revolutionize her gear designs but unless she could fix the heat problem it was never going to do more then burn itself out.

" I guess... i've been working on this new design for what feels like forever, but even though i can replicate the Ark's power source... currently i cant find a way to regulate the heat... until then its never going to replace our current Babylon Designs..."

She smirked a little at surge and leaned back looking at her with a tilt of her head. She was more and more interesting wasn't she?

" Mercenary? Maybe, i guess we both work for Rings but i like to think of us as a bit more refined. We only take the work we want... and our job is less punchy more finesse. Not that we don't throw hands when we gotta. Ask Blue how his fight first with Jet went--- hah! good times... good times..."

Wave thought about it, really the rogues ended up in more fights then she'd like. But she wasn't above throwing a punch or a well timed kick. She wasn't a half bad martial artist herself, but she preferred her gear and brains then brute strength.

" Nothing wrong with a good fight when its called for. Lots of fists thrown while in a Babylon race that's for sure. Hell we have a whole martial arts dedicated to fighting on our gears... so yea fights happen "

Oh right she only saw Jet during his races right? He did love his smack talk but alot of it was for show. He had to keep the fans happy and many times that meant being loud and obnoxious--- ah who was she kidding! he loved it! the noise, the screaming, the banter! he enjoyed all of it. Loved the lime light and hated when anyone took it away from him.

" Yea the stupid loud one... Jet loves the attention, the lime light, the screaming fans. Only reason he races is because he enjoys it. He loves it more then anything else... he's still one of the best racers you'll see... but i guess im biased he's my boss "

She took a moment to just listen and take in her side of the story. It was obviously a sore spot by the way she cut it down. Still meant all the rumors were true. But Tails was never one to be forthright with her about anything. Old Rivalries and all that, so she wanted to know from Surges point of view.

" I see... just wanted to hear your side of it... "

So all those rumors were true, which did make her feel bad for sure. But Pity? maybe? but she didn't want surge to think that.

" You hear alot of shit, sometimes its hard to separate the truth from the bull... But if it makes you feel any better--- i think you defiantly made a splash... in a good way. "

Her head turned as Storm finally arrived with Wave's Spare Gear, and waved to her but gave Surge a confused look. He wasn't sure why she was here, and he was sure jet wouldn't like it!

" Ah--- Here ya Go wave... umm Hi? "

He said to Surge looking between Wave and Surge and Wave and Surge and--- this was hurting his head!

" Ah... umm... ehh... ah...huh..."

Wave rolled her eyes at Storm and snatched her gear from him with an annoyed glare at the big idiot. She shoved him or well tried! and walked over toward Surge with a glance back at storm and a huff.

" Take the prototype back to the lab--- and don't touch anything! i dont want my stuff broke! an stop staring... "

She sighed and walked over to offer Surge a hand up

" So Tacos... huh...you know i could take us someplace nice... authentic... you sure you just want tacos..."

" I want Tacos..."

" GO HOME STORM!!?!? girls only!!! "

"Like I said, breaking stuff even I didn't do nothing to it myself." Surge counted this as Wave only went that far just to try and beat her. Maybe her ego was a tad too big at the moment. "Hey, if I push myself so hard I kick the bucket means you deserve that fucking win in my books. Not that I intend to go down anytime soon." Proof being the tenrec was actually take it easy once in awhile.

"So you're like, a mercenary in the sense ya just do the jobs for cash? That sounds right to me." Surge got a paycheck now that she's a Diamond Cutter, though never really spends it. Drippy is better at handling cash and there is much she wants to buy. Expect for that gaming console she got and food.

"I mean, a fist fight don't gotta end with the other being dead. Just a good ass beating and ya can call it square, though you guys do you." Surge guess she should follow her own rule and be cool with Sonic since she beat him silly at one point. Eh, she doesn't want to kill him so just wanting to kick his ass should be fine.

"Jet, Jet," Surge said, seeming to think on who that is. "Oh, the skinny one who loves to talk smack more than I do. Don't know how he can focus on racing if he's too busy flapping his beak." Did Surge like to trash talk? Sure, though it wasn't all she did. Not to mention the tenrec hit like a train so could back up a lot of it more often than not. Sonic's been the only one who actually beat her. Not counting Eggman as he had to team with the blue hedgehog just to win.

"Seriously? Thought everyone knew what my deal was. Those annoying hedgehog's seemed to make it a point to talk about what Starline did to me so people don't hurt my feelings. Acting like I'm sure fucking kid who needs their feelings spared." At this point Surge didn't care who knew her story just didn't need people to pity her.

"Dickhead kidnapped, wiped my memories, and made me into some kind of cyborg. Tried to kill Sonic, now I'm trying to be a good guy. Nothing else to it." Surge seemed willing to tell a short version of things, though clearly didn't want to talk about it in detail.

[smoll-tangerine]

ten reasons why i hate you: reason #5

SYNOPSIS. while you admittedly didn’t refuse the arranged marriage between you and jung jaehyun, that didn’t mean that you’d allow him to treat you like a doormat. for the emotional distress he had put you through during the months leading up to your engagement party, you ensure that he will pay for the way he had been treating you for the rest of his life. 

PAIRING. rich boy!jaehyun x rich girl!reader  GENRES. romance, angst, drama, rich kid!au  CHAPTER WORD COUNT. 2261

WARNINGS. none. 

DISCLAIMER. this is a work of fiction based on fictional events and characters. it is unrelated to any real people, organisations, locations, and events. the laws, and legal and medical interpretations in this work have also been modified for storytelling purposes. 

TAGLIST. @crescent-iak​ @moonchele​ @ahtisa02​ @ghostfacefricker6969​ @jaehyunnie77​ @jungish​ @anya-writes-stuff​ @hey-won @ishireads​ @xxxx-23nct​ @peachibevuti @shepeelsoranges​ (bolded = unable to tag) 

[a/n]: thank you all so much for your comments!! i’m always so giddy when i read them hehe. this chapter doesn’t have any angst and it’s more fluffy(?) and it’s probably going to be the fluffiest of the chapters, so enjoy it while you can!! ♡ the honeymoon is broken down in 2 parts/chapters, so the next chapter will also be set during their honeymoon. 

also, italicized sentences = spoken in italian because i was too lazy to actually write in italian. Also, fun fact, Vini Da Arturo is an actual restaurant in Venice and its owner’s name is actually Ernesto lol 

← REASON #4 || MASTERLIST || REASON #6 → 

REASON #5  

You didn’t need a bachelorette party, but your friends digressed. 

Jennie took the liberty of charting your private jet for a small girl’s trip to Paris. Though, you were pretty sure she just wanted to go to visit the Chanel store on Champs Élysées. 

“So, spill the tea,” Jennie said to you with her famous feline-like smile. “How does it feel to be married to Jaehyun?” 

Your tongue poked your cheek and you tried to refrain yourself from huffing out in frustration. “We’re not married yet.” 

“Engaged, soon-to-be-married, married—in the end, isn’t it all the same?” Krystal commented with an air of nonchalance. “All of those specifics are not going to matter anymore in a matter of–” she glanced at her watch. “–thirteen hours and twenty two minutes.”

“No, it’s not the same.” 

Your two friends noticed how the tone of your voice didn’t match with one of a happy bride that was about to get married in a day. They shared a look of concern and scooted closer to you. 

“I thought the purpose of flying my jet instead of commercial so that we’d have our own personal space,” you mumbled tiredly. 

You could practically feel the hesitation behind their words and actions, and you sighed. You never meant to turn the atmosphere into one where your best friends needed to tiptoe around you. 

You wondered whether you should tell them the truth about the whole situation. While they knew that your marriage was most likely arranged (a common occurrence in your world), they were also clueless to a number of details such as the fact that Jaehyun was still very much with his girlfriend, that you only went through with the engagement to spite him, and that Jaehyun hated your guts. 

Or did he? 

After the conversation you two had in your penthouse, you never saw each other again, other than just for a few dinners with the two families. You two never spoke to each other properly since then, so to speak. That was about almost a month ago. 

You also took in more surgeries than usual to avoid thinking about the what-if’s and the nature of your relationship with Jaehyun. 

Were you two now... friends? 

You rid yourself of that idea. As long as you were going to stay married to him, preventing him from being with Chaeyoung, the idea of you two being friends was simply not feasible. 

Not to mention your lingering feelings for him was an obstacle to whatever relationship you two might potentially have. 

You bit your bottom lip in slight apprehension. 

Jaehyun was no stranger to your feelings, whether they be romantic or negative. But wouldn’t it be better for your mental health and well-being if you two were to be civil with each other? 

Your two feelings were not only at the opposite ends, but they were also clashing. And thinking about the way you had to treat Jaehyun onwards was more complicated than it seemed. 

You thought that your romantic feelings for your fiancé was gone once and for all after your engagement party. But the way they so quickly resurfaced, like taking a breath of air after being underwater, showed that what you did was just bury them in hopes that they never recover. 

Your efforts proved to be futile. 

“Say, have you already gotten Jaehyun a wedding gift?” Jennie asked when she sensed that you had calmed down. 

Your fingers tapped against the arm rest, thinking about the olive branch Jaehyun had extended to you. The one that made you think whether you’d be a monster for refusing it. 

“Mhm,” you hummed as you came to a conclusion. “I think I know what I will get him.” 

The wedding ceremony was kept relatively small, despite the media’s attention. 

You wondered if that was how your wedding was supposed to be, because it certainly did not match with the vision you once had. 

You glanced at your wedding band, one that you were certain that Jaehyun asked his secretary to get. 

For some odd reason, it reminded you of Doyoung, of how he was also someone you were supposed to marry. 

Only, your engagement fell through when you refused to go with him to Germany. 

You glanced at Jaehyun who was sitting in front of you, and you felt an odd sense of déja vu. What was the point of using your private jet again if you weren’t given the space you hoped you would get? You would have thought that Jaehyun of all people would select a seat that was away from you, but contrary to your expectations, he didn’t. 

If anything, he looked excited to be going on the honeymoon with you. 

“What should we do when we land?” Jaehyun asked you as he was looking through a brochure on things to do in Venice. “I heard that Venice is always packed with tourists. But since it’s slowly sinking into the lagoon, it’s good that we get to visit it before it completely disappears, right?” 

His excitement was unnerving to you. 

“...Venice is sinking because of climate change and tourism,” you muttered as you looked outside, the jet slowly descending to land in the Venice Marco Polo Airport. “And besides, who says that I was going to spend time with you?” 

Jaehyun seemed surprised by your statement. “What do you mean? Aren’t we on our honeymoon?” 

“I don’t recall saying that we aren’t?” 

“Then, why are we not spending time together?” 

“Why do you even want to spend time with me?” you refuted almost in annoyance. “I know it’s not enough that we’re now married against your will, so shouldn’t you thank me that I’m giving you space?” 

Jaehyun fell silent. 

You immediately felt awkward at his reaction, not expecting him to be disappointed by the fact that you wanted to be away from him. 

But shouldn’t he be happy that you were giving him freedom? He could do whatever he wanted! 

But this was one of the times where your feelings for him took over whatever hatred that was left in your heart. 

You sighed through your nose. “There’s a little bit of time before check-in and we haven’t eaten lunch yet. Let’s go grab a bite together.” 

His face instantly brightened up at your words and went back to his brochure. “Oh, we can–” 

“Drop the brochure,” you said with a small smile. “I’ll bring you to my favourite place in Venice.” 

Your favourite restaurant in Venice was a very small and cozy restaurant nestled in a side alley called Vini Da Arturo, a gem of a place you have found before you became a surgical intern. 

“Ernesto!” you exclaimed happily as you two finally arrived at the restaurant. “Ciao!” 

“Ah, bella!” Ernesto replied with the same enthusiasm. “The usual?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

Ernesto glanced at Jaehyun who only smiled obliviously. “That’s not the same man I saw you with last time.” 

While Jaehyun was not fluent in Italian, you remembered that he was fluent in Spanish instead. And those two languages were practically the same. Yet for some reason, you hoped that Jaehyun didn’t understand what Ernesto just said to you, even if you had a feeling that he probably wouldn’t care. 

“This is my husband, Jaehyun,” you said not exactly answering his question. “Jaehyun, this is Ernesto, the restaurant’s owner.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ernesto,” Jaehyun greeted him. “I look forward to your food.” 

“You won’t be disappointed!” 

Ernesto brought you to your favourite table, which was the second to last booth from the back. Close enough to the kitchen that you could hear what was going on, but not close enough that you’d be bothered by the kitchen commotion. 

“Do you know why Ernesto’s restaurant is so special compared to the other restaurants in Venice?” you asked giddily, ignoring how conflicted Jaehyun’s eyes seemed at the moment. 

“Jaehyun?”

“Huh, yeah?” 

“Did you hear what I said?” 

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Yeah, no, sorry, could you repeat that?” 

“I said, do you know why Ernesto’s restaurant is so special compared to the other restaurants in Venice?” 

He shook his head. 

“Ernesto’s restaurant doesn’t serve fish dishes,” you answered. “Only meat.” 

“A small restaurant in Venice that doesn’t serve fish dishes?” Jaehyun questioned. “Pardon my language, but is he mad?” 

You laughed. “A mad genius! Trust me. You’ll see when you taste his pork chop and eggplant salad.” 

True to your words, Jaehyun did call Ernesto a mad genius as soon as he took a bite of the pork chop. 

After eating, all you wanted to do was get back to your hotel and sleep off your jet lag. But Jaehyun’s eyes begged you to hop on a gondola and tour around Venice. You understand that it was, surprisingly, Jaehyun’s first time in Venice, but you were staying a whole week in Venice—he’ll have enough time to tour the city on a gondola. 

So, the compromise you two came up with was a water taxi. Though, because the hotel you were staying in was already so close and at a walking distance from the restaurant, you two had to walk back to the S. Toma’ “A” ferry terminal—located around ten minutes walking-distance away from Vini Da Arturo—so that Jaehyun could fully enjoy the water taxi ride. 

Twenty-five minutes later, your water taxi arrived at Hotel Danieli, your favourite hotel in Venice. You loved it due to its rich history and architecture. While the outside looked like the rest of the city, it was the interior décor and architecture that always blew your mind away. 

“Welcome back to Venice, signora,” the hotel concierge greeted you. “The Doge Dandolo Royal Suite has been prepared for you and your guest.” 

You smiled in thanks and handed over your passports. “Our documents.” 

“Thank you,” he said as he processed everything. “The hotel would like to offer you a complimentary night free of charge, as one of our most esteemed guests. Would you and your guest like to stay for another night?” 

You didn’t know Jaehyun’s schedule, but you weren’t about to refuse the offer. 

“We’ll stay.” 

“Wonderful,” the concierge continued. “Will everything be charged to the card we have on file?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Amazing,” he said and handed you the keys to your room. “Enjoy your stay.” 

You followed the bellman to your room and tipped him as soon as he dropped off your luggage. Jaehyun’s jaw evidently dropped at the grandiosity of the room. The Doge Dandolo Royal Suite was exquisitely decorated, reminiscent of 14th century Italian Renaissance-style. 

Perhaps the opulence of the room scared Jaehyun a little as he stuttered out timidly, “S-so, h-how much d-does it cost for a whole w-week here?” 

You stretched your whole body as you walked across the room, taking everything in. “I don’t know, it costs around 9500 euros a night so do the math.” 

“9500 euros?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “Wait, so that’s about 67 000 euros for a whole week?” 

“I mean, they’re giving us a complimentary night so it’s technically for eight nights.” 

Jaehyun glared at you. His glare was so fierce that it reminded you of when you two first found out that you were engaged to each other. 

“Do we have to stay in such a luxurious suite?” 

You found Jaehyun’s attitude curious and intriguing. 

While Jaehyun would be considered as nouveau riche, he certainly didn’t act like one. Most of the nouveaux riches you knew loved flaunting their newly accumulated wealth. 

Aside from a few of his expenses, Jaehyun was quite particular with his money. It almost made you chuckle as you remembered just a couple of months ago, he was screaming at you that you shouldn’t look down at him for having less money than your family and that contrary to your beliefs, he indeed was able to afford the lunch at Yuta’s hotel. 

“You and your family paid for the wedding,” you answered easily. “My family and I can pay for the honeymoon.” 

It took a moment for him to accept this compromise, but Jaehyun seemed satisfied with your answer. 

“Okay,” he said. “Also, have you thought about what you want to do tomorrow?” 

You looked back at him with a weird expression. “...You want to spend time with me tomorrow too?” 

It was probably the first time you’ve ever seen Jaehyun blush in front of you. “Well, whether I like it or not, we are married and are on our honeymoon! Shouldn’t we spend some time together before we head back home?” 

This was unexpected. 

You planned your honeymoon around the fact that Jaehyun didn’t want to spend it with you. 

Did this mean that he didn’t hate you anymore? 

“I don’t.” 

“Huh?” You realised belatedly that you might have asked that question out loud and Jaehyun heard it. 

“I don’t,” he repeated, “actually hate you.” 

“Oh,” you answered dumbly. “That’s... good.” 

“So, tomorrow?” 

You shrugged and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

“We’ll see.” 

Whether you liked it or not, Jaehyun’s sudden shift of attitude towards you was one that made you question his true intentions. 

You constantly reminded yourself that just barely month ago, this man hated your guts with a fury for supposedly ruining his life. And one small and insignificant action on your part suddenly made him think of you differently? 

What kind of game was he playing? 

You didn’t know, but one thing you knew for sure was that you would emerge as the game’s winner. 

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