#if it wasn't for the tones it would be a lot easier to learn

[antioceas]

He could tell she was lying. Luna couldn't place her finger exactly on what it was, but something in the line around the eyes. In the way he pursed his lips... Danny stepped back though and all of that weight in the air gradually lifted from Luna's shoulders. Breathing became just a smidge easier on the lungs.

This man has no qualms about killing. Be careful, don't overstep, follow every rule.

Luna was... surprised to find that he would simply allow her to be alone for the night- oh, at least it seemed that way. Wasn't he worried she would run away? Yes, Mister Danny had promised books and he wasn't quite as scary as Luna imagined- which was already saying a lot - but did that mean Luna would sit quietly on the couch, turning a blind eye to any horrors unfolding?

" The-there's a cat? " All of the thoughts of escape, all of sneaking out when he went to sleep, momentarily vanished. In their place, were imaginations after imaginations of imaginations of Luna petting a cat. This was only made better by the hope that it might, on the distance chance, be a black cat.

" Would... I be allowed to pet the kitty? If it lets me... can I pet it? " Luna tried her hardest to keep the excitement clear from her voice. Luna had learned at the cruel hands of her father and brother that you often needed to hide what made you happiest. Still, it was hard to disguise the eager vibrations to her tone.

'What a fucking lie,' he mused, his piercing gaze locked onto the child before him. A consummate liar himself, he possessed an uncanny ability to detect the deceit that dripped from her words. Surely, she was weaving a web of lies as he had done countless times to ensure his own survival. It was pointless to probe her motivations; such things were her affair, after all.Yet, he felt a pang of discomfort at the prospect of seeing his own reflection in this girl. Her demeanor unearthed specters of the past he longed to keep buried, yet her very presence seemed to resurrect them with an unforgiving intensity.

'Whatever, not my problem' he thought resignedly, retreating a step to afford her some space.The pressing question lingered: would she attempt an escape under the cover of night? He had grown accustomed to the absence of sleep—not from necessity, but from the sheer oddity of trying to mimic a mundane routine after so much time had passed.

'Guess it's another allnighter again', he grimaced, observing her with a watchful eye. There were times in his living days when he had forsworn sleep entirely, driven by the demands of work or darker pursuits.

"Well, behave until tomorrow morning then," he stated matter-of-factly, turning his back. "Don't close that window there," he gestured to the one beneath the well-worn couch. "The next door neighbors cat often likes to come in here."

Though he bore no ill will towards the creature, its inexplicable habit of entering perplexed him to no end.

[thequeenofsastiel]

I may have cackled too much when I looked up a word in Thai and was able to sound it out correctly despite not having studied the Thai script for three years.

Okay, maybe I wasn't able to remember the tones. I need to study it again.

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[sirfrogsworth]

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster! Reader)

Chapter 2: The men in his life

[part 0, 1, here]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, vulgar language, mentions of abuse, infidelity, unintentional manipulation

Stepping out of the shower felt no different than stepping into it. The wetness was felt, as the water was absorbed into their skin, but just as they could not feel the cold outside, they could not take comfort in the warmth of a shower.

Their home was.. quaint. (Reader) had to learn the concept of an apartment from their newly adopted son (the disgust they felt when they looked out at the building and believed the family lived in a hotel was visible on their face), and although they had their reservations, it wasn't nearly as pathetic as they assumed it would be. They had lived in poverty before, in a space larger than this, however there was electricity and heating; there was more fresh food than (Reader) knew was possible of storing, there were plants and plenty of clothes. Everything was very advanced, and it seemed as though life was much easier to live than before (even if they needed assistance with activating the shower).

Leaving faint footprints on the fake wooden floor, (Reader) saw family portraits both hung up and in standing frames on random shelving. Avery sleepily teetered over towards the monster, instinctively reaching out to grab their hand.

"I... did a truly terrible job of recreating her."

"Hm?"

"I look nothing like your mother."

Avery's hand flexed open for a millisecond before squeezing tighter. His face was scrunched in confusion, like his inability to process his own emotions was upsetting him. "I'm okay with that."

I'm sure you are. (Reader) glanced from Luanne to the man smiling next to her. But will he?

"What is your father's name?"

"Michael."

(Reader) picked up the drowsy child. His hair still smelled like the woods. "Is he a good man?"

The boy sagged, melting into his new "mother's" arms. "I mean, yeah? Mom yells at him a lot though.."

His room was decorated with comic book posters and action figures on every surface. The bed felt luxurious to the monster, and the blanket was expertly made, with intricate characters dyed into the fabric. They would later learn that it was a mass produced comforter, but at that moment it made them wonder who bought such an obviously expensive bed set for a child. If it was the mother, then why? She seemed to despise her son. And if it was the father, then that seemed to be a sign of good luck for (Reader). A kind and loving husband would probably be more welcoming to a previously hostile wife if "she" suddenly became equally as kind and loving.

Avery's tired eyes became unfocused as (Reader) tucked him in.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

(Reader) thought of Luanne. Her slightly crinkled skin under her eyes in the photos on the walls. The bright red lipstick on the bathroom counter and the perfume bottle in the medicine cabinet that reeked like her jacket and the skin she owned as (Reader) tore open her body.

"Yes." They were beginning to feel that they were just as confused as Avery.

This family was just a cover. And this family would eventually be nothing more than a meal.

But despite that, they still sat on his bed until the child fell asleep.

(Reader) almost went to investigate their own bed, when the front door opened very softly and slowly. Someone was sneaking in. They calmly changed direction in the hall, silently entering the living room to meet their new husband, who was quietly attempting to remove his shoes.

The monster watched him, his awkward movements as his heart loudly beat in his white collared shirt, and they felt a sense of unease. This was, clearly, Michael. It was the same man from the photographs. So why was he tiptoeing into his own home?

Michael took a shaky breath, calming his anxious heart, when he turned around and saw his wife, nearly experiencing a heart attack.

"Jesus, Luanne! Why're you just standing there?" His tone was accusatory despite the warm smile he had on his face. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up by that prick Donnie. Made me stay late to fix some fuck up that the new kid made.."

As he, loudly, approached the monster posing as his wife, they could smell him; and suddenly everything made sense.

He didn't even blink as he stared into his wife's eyes. There was no flicker of discomfort, recognition in his expression.. Michael couldn't tell that there was something off about Luanne.

His shirt smelled like chemicals and fruit and plastic and alcohol.

He leaned in to kiss (Reader).

They were used to kissing humans.

They never once enjoyed it.

But it was something they had to do.

To blend in.

However, when Michael opened his mouth it wasn't just cheap wine (Reader) could smell. It was slightly acidic. And they reared their head away in disgust.

Of course a man like this wouldn't have ever noticed that his wife was abusing his son.

"Your breath smells like another woman's cunt." They still expected Michael to finally notice that they weren't his wife, but even after hearing their voice it didn't seem to phase him.

"..Not this again." He abruptly spun away. "I just got home after a long day, can you not act like a crazy bitch for five fucking minutes?!"

He tossed his keys onto the little table by the front door as aggressively as he could without "throwing" them.

"I work so hard for you and Avery, and all you do is complain. How is that fair to me? You promised you wouldn't bring this up again, and yet here you are-"

"Avery and I were in an accident today." (Reader) cut him off. They didn't really want any sympathy from him, they just didn't want to listen to his pathetic moaning.

Their words seemed to shock him out of his tirade. "What? Is he okay?"

"Yes. However, I have a concussion.. the amb-u-lance doctors said that it was normal to experience some mild memory loss." They hoped their face appeared sincere. "I'm sorry. I thought I smelled something.."

Michael didn't seem to notice that his wife's speech had changed drastically. He reached out in a sympathetic manner, cupping their face with his hand.

"If it's that bad, why didn't they take you to a hospital?"

Ah.

"They suggested I go if my confusion worsens or if I developed any new symptoms."

He sighed through a grimace. "Well.. I'm glad you're alright."

(Reader) contemplated eating him.

"I see you've already showered.. why don't you go to bed, I'll be there in a second?"

You disgust me.

"I'm going to lay down with Avery. I'm still a little shaken up after the accident."

"How did it-?" Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We can talk in the morning."

He reached out again to hold (Reader), and it felt like mold growing on their skin when he planted a kiss on their forehead. His grip was tight on their shoulders, as if to prove that he could kiss them whenever he felt like it and they had no choice.

No; Luanne had no choice.

(Reader) flashed him a smile. He only smiled back.

What a prick.

They silently left the cheating bastard and returned to Avery's bedroom, where they could hear from his breathing that he had woken up and was doing his best to pretend to sleep. "May I lay down for a while?"

He didn't respond but scooted over to make room on his twin sized bed. The child was so small that it didn't cause much cramping to lie beside him.

"Avery?" It was plain curiosity. But a curiosity that was not appropriate when taking to a child. "Why didn't your father stop Luanne?"

Avery opened his large baby like eyes, staring up at (Reader's) unblinking ones. "What do you mean?"

"Did he ever ask you about your bruises?"

"Yes." He answered automatically before pausing, trying to recall a time when his dad may have noticed how mean his mom could be, and realizing that there was none. Every argument they ever had was about them. They were never about him. "No."

(Reader) wondered why they were probing their son. Maybe, deep down the know what they were doing: driving a wedge between them so (Reader) could eat the boy's father without regret. Yet, it didn't feel that way. They wanted to know. They were curious.

"I am not a human."

"..I know."

"My sense of smell is much greater than yours. As is my hearing."

"Really?"

They pulled Avery into a hug, whispering "I can hear your father's heart from the kitchen."

Instead of fear, this revelation seemed to excite the boy. "Really?!" He theatrically whispered back.

"I can smell.. a raccoon outside, climbing a tree."

A small gasp before a "You are a hero!" squeaked out of Avery.

"Avery." Their voice turned serious. "I can smell another woman on your father."

His breathing hitched. "What does that mean?"

".. Your mother was a very bad person for what she did to you. And your father.. he should have noticed what was happening."

Silence thickened between the two. The concept that his father failed him settled into Avery's tiny, six year old brain. Everything felt very complicated, and it was wearing him down. He felt more exhaustion than he felt in a very long time. "Will you protect me?"

(Reader's) mouth moved before the thought formed in their mind. "Yes."

After a very loud, one sided argument about the trashed vehicle, the monster was taking their new boy to school via the city bus. They understood that a motorized carriage must have been expensive, but their survival felt more important. On top of the irritation from an unnecessary "conversation" with their "husband", it stressed out Avery, who appeared to be distant with his father.

The city bus stunk of piss. It was disgusting, but Avery seemed impressed.

"Mom, there's my school!" He jabbed the window, pointing at a very large building,

"Is this a private institution?"

"Inst- insti- tush- ...no, it's a regular school?"

His face lit up with pride when his mom complimented his school, "It's impressive."

That is what they said, however, after exiting the bus and entering the school grounds, there was a very stern looking man glaring at (Reader) from the steps. He was about Michael's age, shaved bald sporting thick framed glasses and was smartly dressed. Upon seeing his frightening stare, they gently squeezed Avery's hand to catch his attention. "Do I know that man?"

"Yeah, that's Mr. Knight.." Avery sounded very quiet. "He's the counselor. He came over for a visit a few weeks ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know?" He lied.

The serious man's face completely changed when Avery drew near, cracking into a large, lopsided and toothy smile. "Good morning, Mr. Avery! How ya doin?" His voice was impressively deep, but (Reader) was more impressed by the fact that they had just realized there were children and teachers of all races entering the same building. They allowed themselves to smile widely, feeling a moment that was close to satisfaction: having been so many people, it was like joy and revenge all at once to be in the future.

But their smile fell when they looked back at the counselor, and recognized the emotion plastered on his form.

He saw (Reader's) smile, and he could tell that it was different.

He was not like Michael, who was so blind to his wife that he did not notice the change; this man saw their smile, and felt the fear, disgust, confusion, and discomfort that humans felt when they saw a fake human.

The uncanny valley.

Mr. Knight visibly shuttered before returning to his previous anger. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones." He spat out the name like it was vinegar. "I see you're personally escorting your son today."

(Reader) focused on keeping their face neutral.

Avery responded before the creature could. "We got into an accident. The car is getting fixed, so we took the bus."

Worry filled his dark eyes, returning his attention to Avery. "An accident? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but Mom hit her head."

The sympathy he expressed was so plainly fake that it felt spiteful. "Well. Hopefully your injury wasn't too severe?"

(Reader) smiled again.

It made perfect sense. This man hated Luanne, Avery's real mother. But that woman was dead.

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

He involuntarily shivered at their voice. Even though he had no way of knowing that the mother was actually an ancient boogeyman forgotten by time, he clearly could feel it.

And while they respected that there seemed to be one adult who cared for Avery, they recognized that Mr. Knight would potentially be a headache for them in the near future.

[il0vewomenz]

𝙎𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙠𝙖, 𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤, 𝙆𝙖𝙚𝙙𝙚, 𝙆𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙞𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙎/𝙊 𝙬𝙝𝙤'𝙨 𝙖 𝘽𝙤𝙠𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!

Bokodere — character who lashes out with their fists when they get embarrassed from their love interest in order to hide their shyness and feelings of love. They go into fight-or-flight mode when flustered despite not really wanting to hurt their love interest. After some time as they get more used to being affectionate with their love interest they will feel less flustered and will gain control over their aggressive impulses.

TW: Very OOC.

SAYAKA:

When Sayaka first met you, she thought you were just really shy, and she found it adorable! While introducing herself, she playfully teased you.

Your face turned red, and you accidentally punched her in the face so hard that she fell backwards. "Ah!" She let out a small squeak. She looked up at you and asked, "Um... I'm sorry, did something I say upset you?" Sayaka's voice was soft and gentle. You covered your face in shame and embarrassment. "N-no! I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that! What's wrong with me..!" You said, feeling incredibly ashamed.

Sayaka lowered her head, her face hidden in shadow. It made you feel even worse, but suddenly she lifted her head with a smile on her face. "It's okay, Y/N, don't worry about it!" You helped her up and asked, "Uh... Are you okay? I punched you pretty hard..." Sayaka chuckled slightly and replied, "Yeah... It hurts a little..." In reality, it hurt a lot, but she didn't want you to feel bad or for you to use your fists on her again.

She had a strong intuition that you didn't have any malicious intentions when you punched her, and she had a knack for reading people. As you spent more time with her, you slowly became more comfortable around her. And when the two of you started dating, you stopped getting so embarrassed over simple affection. Well... You still got embarrassed, but instead of taking it out on Sayaka with your fists, you learned how to control yourself with a little help from her!

MONDO:

Mondo always gets nervous around girls he likes, so it wasn't surprising that he acted that way around you. Most girls tend to get scared off by his loud behavior, but you were different. You got easily embarrassed around him. So, could it be said that both of you are nervous around each other?

Well, yeah. The only difference is that he doesn't hit the girls he likes. "What was that for!?" Mondo asks, his tone rising. "I-I'm so sorry! I couldn't control myself, it was a reflex!" Now Mondo wasn't sure what upset him more - the fact that the girl he likes punched him or that it actually hurt.

Mondo has a severe complex about appearing weak, so the fact that a girl hitting him hurt made him feel weak. "W-why aren't you saying anything... I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to!" You apologize once more. "Don't worry about it! I didn't even feel it!" He says, trying to convince himself more than you. "Really?" You ask, confusion evident on your face. Normally, people would admit it hurt a lot. Your doubt made him slightly more frustrated, but he managed to hide it well. "Hell yeah, it didn't!"

Sorry if you wanted a gender natural reader for Mondo but it was way easier for me to write a female reader when it comes to Mondo!

KAEDE:

When Kaede first saw you, she couldn't help but call you cute because of your adorable appearance. Little did she know, that was a big mistake. It made you feel so embarrassed that you reacted impulsively and ended up punching her.

"W-what was that for?" she asks, clearly confused. "Oh my goodness... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm really sorry, it's just a reflex for me when I get embarrassed. I don't know how to handle it, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I apologize!"

You blurt out your words in a rush, feeling remorseful. "I-it's okay..." Kaede says, a small bead of sweat forming on her cheek. "One apology is enough..." She says, trying to smile nervously.

Just like you, Kaede can be impulsive at times, but she's trying her best to be patient with you, hoping that you'll do the same and learn to control yourself around her. And if you do, that would be great!

But even she can lose her cool sometimes, especially if you continue to react the same way even when you're dating. "Y/N, please stop hitting me!" she exclaims. She holds your hands in hers and looks into your eyes. "Please, just calm down!"

KOKICHI:

He would quickly notice how easily flustered you get around him and would take advantage of it by teasing you. When you hit him, his mischievous expression lingers for a few seconds before he dramatically bursts into crocodile tears.

"WAHHHH!! H-how could you hurt me like this!? I was just trying to be friends with you!" Your lips tremble slightly as the blush remains on your face. You try to think of something to say to diffuse the situation, but before you can, he laughs.

"Nee-heehee! Just kidding! You're obviously too weak to hurt me!" That was a lie.

Kokichi continues to tease you, testing your limits. Sometimes it's hard to keep up the facade of being unfazed when he pushes too far. One time, he couldn't hide the pain when you kicked him in his crotch. He fell to the floor, clutching himself. "Agh..! I shouldn't have told them to be rougher!" he thought.

Over time, you start to get used to his teasing, which sometimes annoys him. He doesn't like it when you don't react the way he expects or stop paying attention to him. That's just boring!

MIU:

Miu is Miu, no doubt about it. It's no wonder you feel embarrassed when you're around her. She's always making those sex jokes and whatnot. So, in a fit of embarrassment, you lash out and smack her in the face.

"What the hell!?" Miu exclaims. "What's your problem!?" She asks, caught off guard and feeling defenseless. "I'm sorry, Miu!" You apologize. "Sorry? Are you apologizing for hitting me or for your lack of chest size!?" She bluntly questions. Your face turns even redder as you struggle to find the right words. "Oh, what's the matter? You seemed pretty confident when you smacked me right in the face!" She reminds you. "Listen, Miu... I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to!" Miu scoffs. "Just don't fuckin' ever do it again!"

This one is very short but I didn't have an idea how to continue this.

[gatitties]

Heyo! How would Platonic! Straw Hats and Heart Pirates react to their New Crew member Being Deaf/Having Hearing Aids? (I don't know if a hearing aids don't exist in the one piece world, maybe regular snail hearing aids do existed just like bluetooth snail transport, which Nami used from One Piece Live Action)

Cause I am deaf and hearing aids, I am very quiet. I can read people's lips but when I wasn't good at hearing people's speech with my hearing aids, I would pretend to be hearing whatever they say but I got distracted by everything especially there's a puppy or baby around or I only asked my friends or family what they said.

─Strawhats & Heart Pirates x Deaf!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You are unable to hear, but aware of the world around you, lips are your best ally.

─Warnings: none

─ You really have to keep an eye on your hearing device if you don't want Luffy to lose it, he's just curious because he doesn't know exactly how it works, but he'll get distracted and lose it if you ever let him see it.

─ It's not usually a big deal, Franky along with Usopp can make you more at any time, but it's preferable that they don't have to, it takes a lot to set it up for the specific hearing parameters for you.

─ Robin is the one who will catch you up if you get lost when someone is talking, she always notices how your eyes wander to something else that's distracting you, if you ask her she'll answer anything you want to know that you haven't picked up.

─ Sanji always has a small notebook and pen in his suit in case your devices ever fail or get lost during a fight, even if you can read lips, it never hurts to take some precautions.

─ Chopper spends a lot of his time researching if there is a solution for your deafness, even though there doesn't seem to be any progress at the moment, that doesn't mean he's going to stop to give you better hearing.

─ Brook is so sad if you can't listen to his music at some point, and just like Sanji he'll always carry paper and pen, it's hard for you to interpret his words because he's a skeleton and you can't see the movement of his lips.

─ Nami and Jinbe speak much slower or put great emphasis on certain syllables so you can read their gestures better, they tend to be very expressive when communicating if you're close, making it easier for you to understand.

─ Unlike Zoro, he rants uncontrollably and won't modulate shit, he doesn't do it out of spite, really, but he thinks it's good that you try to read lips quickly or get used to different types of modulation, an enemy won't stop to speak slowly just because of your condition.

─ Law has already tried to heal you in many ways, but since that fails, he just settles for you using your hearing device, he trusts that you can read lips perfectly and helps you with that, trying different words, tones or ways of speaking.

─ Bepo is your translator if your thoughts seem much more entertaining than a random person's speech, he will gladly give you a summary of what has been said.

─ At the same time, he is the one who you find it more difficult to read lips because he is a bear and his snout is obviously not a human mouth, although you have quickly learned to understand him, your reading is still not as good with those of his species.

─ Ikkaku, Jean Bart and you have appropriated a few small gestures to communicate in complete silence, a minimal lip movement has a great meaning for you and no one else understands it apart from you, so it doesn't matter if an enemy sees you moving your lips in a strange way, they will never guess what it means.

─ Shachi and Penguin have a little game with you, you disconnect your device and they start making sounds of animals or objects, while you have to guess what it is by the mimicry and their actions.

─ Most of the team carries a small notebook in case of emergencies, if your device breaks or gets lost it won't be that easy to repair it or find a new one since they are usually inside the Polar Tang under the sea.

─ Law keeps some spare components in case this happens, but he is usually careful and will scold you if you ever lose it or something.

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

"So, one dot and a line is 'A' and a line and three dots is 'B'."

You had spent some time with Bumblebee to realize he was speaking in Morse code. You weren't fluent but you thought that studying and learning it should help you become more proficient.

The base is quieter than usual. Everyone but Ratchet was out on a mission to gather Energon. He is always working, you haven't seen him take a break from his enormous computer or what you assumed to be one. That's what you called it because you couldn't find a better word to describe it. Probably a Cybertronian data screen was a better option.

"So, have you found out the function of the ancient relic?"

You walk towards him on the platform. He didn't spare you a single second and kept typing.

"No, but I believe is part of something bigger," Ratchet says as he seems to be reading a scan. "A map may be."

"Interesting," you try to peak on his screen although you know that you won't understand any of it.

"When I was looking over the codes, it didn't say anything about a map. Although I haven't checked the rest of the documents for more information."

"How was a human like you able to decipher ancient codes that led to Cybertronian relics?

You didn't like the sound of the voice, as it belittled you. Thinking about it for two seconds, you decided to give it a pass. You didn't know if he asked out of genuine curiosity or because he was trying to satisfy his superiority complex.

"I don't read Cybertronian but there were some pictures I was able to figure out. After that, it wasn't that difficult really," you remember seeing a few paintings and historical places on the documents provided to you by your government insider. All of them have an inner message related to space. 

"But it's understandable if a Cybertronian can't figure it out. The codes are centered on Earth's nearby celestial bodies. You know, like stars, constellations, comets, meteors, planets."

"That's ... interesting," his tone simulates yours. "If these are Cybertronian relics then why made the codes for something only humans can understand?"

"Well, maybe what we are looking for is not meant to be found by the transformers."

"Maybe, but we should find all the relics before jumping to conclusions," he finally, turns to look at you. A sign to tell you that what he is saying is important. "And find them quickly before the Decepticons find out what we are doing."

"Then we should head out soon."

"This would be easier if the ground bridge was working," Ratchet turns to look at his side. You follow, noticing an arc made of metal. It didn't look like much but according to the doctor bot, it allows travel through the entire Earth in seconds.

"But I've been having trouble trying to fix it."

"At this point, I'll just have to fly myself out there."

"Wait, you can fly?"

He asks with such more genuineness that you find it adorable.

"I mean as taking an airplane."

Ratchet vents heavily, he was disappointed at your answer.

"Well, meanwhile I try to work on the ground bridge. Maybe you can head out with the rest to the second closet location from here."

On the data-screen, a location appears. A relic seems to be inside the Big Bend National Park in Texas. It will take roughly a day to get to oil land.

"Just let me know so I can ask for a few days off work. Although I wish I could help more."

You were never one to stay still in one place. Especially when you see Ratchet working so relentlessly and everyone is out there probably fighting the bad guys.

"If you want to be more efficient, why don't you quit your job and stay here?"

How easy would that be? To just give up and live a life full of excitement and adventures with the Autobots. But you had a rare sense of justice. Within you, it was your duty to tell the truth to the people. They were the lie and you had to expose them. And of course ... getting a little praise on the way.

"Because I need money to buy food. I'll die if I don't eat."

This was also true. It would be hard for him to believe you if you weren't being fully honest.

"If your kind needs 'food' to survive ... Why do you need to work to gain it? Shouldn't it be easily accessible? Free perhaps?"

"Yes, but our civilization is not as advanced with such concepts," you loved changing topics and also seeing the perspective of humans in another species' eyes ... or better say optics.

"How barbaric," Ratchet intonates his voice, it was rather comical to you.

"Agreed."

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of car engines approaching. You look at where the sound is coming from and certainly, the Autobots started showing up.

They transform back to their normal form, standing tall and well beyond 30 feet. You see them more often now but you are still fascinated by them.

Everyone gives you a look, acknowledging your presence.

"How was it?" Ratchet asks. He sees them coming in empty-handed and has already expected an answer. But he asked for more details than results.

"We couldn't find anything," Bulkhead's voice is tired. You didn't even know how that was possible, supposing the machines don't get tired. But you have to remind yourself that they are living creatures. Not things.

"We are running out of Energon reserves."

"What about you? Please tell us some good news," Arcee asks as she looks over to Ratchet.

"Tragically, I have none," Ratchet says, taking the time to step aside from his work to talk to the group. "The groundbringe still needs to be worked on."

Everyone waited for Optimus' orders. After a few moments, he speaks.

"Due that we are low on Energon reserves, (Y/N) and I will search for the next relic. Everyone else shall stay here and continue on the search for Energon."

"The closest relic is one day away," Ratchet looks at his data-screen where a blue dot stands out on the map. "So we better find some Energon by the time you come back."

"I am counting on you."

The Autobots don't say a word. They never needed to in order to understand each other. They can't fail.

.

.

.

You type furiously on your computer as Optimus keeps driving. The are a few bumps on the road, the movement makes your screen shake. It made writing and reading difficult. Your head is starting to hurt for staring too long at the screen but you can't stop.

"You seem distracted."

Optimus voice interrupts your process but you don't take off your eyes from the screen.

"I asked four days off work to come. I've been missing a lot and the only way they would approve my PTO is if I finish two scripts and upload it by tonight."

The next relic should be found in Texas, which is around a day from Nevada without stopping. Yet, you are a bit worried about the bot. You don't know if Optimus gets tired and you wanted to suggest resting somewhere in the woods so he could rest ... or re-charge.

"If you so wished, you could have stayed at the base. You didn't have to come."

He is right. The coordinates of the relic had already been figured out.

"And become more useless than I already am?" you proofread your script. See a couple of mistakes and a few sentences that didn't sound right. You quickly click on the back-space, deleting your previous work. Who would have thought that writing about a grandma turning one hundred could be so difficult?

"Besides, trucks have stops and inspections. What will the transportation officers say when they see an 18-wheeler driving by itself?"

You were so engrossed that Optimus' silence went unnoticed. As you finished writing your script and clicking on the period key, you looked up and noticed the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. Then you turn to look to the co-pilot seat.

There, you find a young man around your age. Dark blue hair, ocean-eyes. Wearing a white shirt with a denim jacket. He doesn't smile but stares intensely at you.

You scream and throw your computer at him.

"PRIME THERE IS AN UGLY MAN INSIDE!"

The man caught the computer and looks at you with a confused face.

"This is my human hologram form," Optimus says, putting a hand on his chest. You were so used to hearing his voice on his robot or car form that watching it coming from a human version feels strange. "This is the form I use in case I am stopped by the authorities."

You reach out a hand, thinking your hand would go through him. It was not the case as you touched his shoulder. Grasping it so tightly, the clothes felt real. He almost did. But he feels cold and doesn't breathe. His chest nor shoulders move up and down. And his posture is too straight to be that of a human.

This once again reminded you that Cybertronian technology was millions ahead compared to Earth's which was primitive. To them, this was a simple 'hologram' because there wasn't a better word for your species to understand it. To you, this kind of technology was just beyond comprehension.

"If you have this hologram then why keep using cars as a disguise? Wouldn't this be a better way to blend in with our civilization?"

You reach out to take your laptop and take it from the grasp of the hologram quickly. Somehow you trusted Optimus' robotic version more than this hologram man.

"We can only use these holograms within 100 meters of our actual being," Optimus says. "Or if we have someone or something with a transmitter being kept at a close distance."

"I see," you give the hologram a stinky eye and Optimus wonders the reason behind your cold demeanor towards him. "Can you put him back? I like you much more as you actually are."

In the blink of an eye, the hologram disappears and you feel relieved. You didn't notice it but you feel the air of the vents touch your cheeks more strongly.

You were about to go back to work when you heard your stomach make embarrassing sounds. You were hungry, you hadn't eaten all day.

"Hey, Prime, can we make a stop?"

.

.

.

The gas station wasn't the nicest. It smells like piss. But there were burritos and against your lack of better judgment and hunger, you decide to buy one with egg filling. You looked around the store and bought some car stuff just in case Optimus was hungry. He couldn't possibly just drink Energon ... right?

You walk with a plastic bag and a burrito in hand. Opening the door to get inside Optimus' vehicle form. You close the door so no one can hear you talking to 'yourself.'

"Did you find everything you needed?" Optimus asks, anxious to get back on the road.

"Yes, and I also brought you some stuff."

Carelessly, you move the plastic bag upside down, the items falling down on the co-pilot seat.

"I got you oil from all kinds of brands." You also bought a lemon car air freshener. You stood up from your seat and put it in Optimus' rear mirror. "Pick your poison."

You sit back down while taking a big bite of your burrito.

"My apologies but if I were to drink oil, it would impair my ability to drive."

"How? I thought oil was good for cars," you chew into the food, tasting the egg and something else. Another ingredient you didn't ask for.

"Oil is good for maintenance but if we drink large quantities of it, our processor can become disoriented and there can be certain impairment in some functions-"

As Optimus continues talking, you spit the food in your mouth into your hand. On it, you could see scrambled eggs and pieces of steak. Steak that was still too pink for your liking and could still taste the blood on your tongue.

You open Optimus' door and run to the nearest trashcan. Vomiting what you just had and the entire of yesterday's dinner. It wasn't just that the food disgusted you, but the memories that were brought back were still too present. The smell of burned skin. It's as if you've gone back there. The screams, the death, the blood ... The blood in your hands was still too real for it not to affect you.

All the while, the Autobot leader watched, concerned for your safety and most importantly curious about what could make someone like you falter in such ways.

.

.

.

Optimus didn't want to stop, he tried to hide his disappointment but you just knew he was.

He stopped somewhere in the middle of the woods. There was enough space for him to mass-shift back into his regular size. You saw him stretch and move around, it must feel nice to rest after a whole day of driving.

He watched you as you meticulously built up a small bonfire for you. Pulling a 'camping bed roll' and laying it on the grass. You could feel his optics on you. He doesn't even try to hide it. Staring was rude on Earth but you doubted the same thing applied on Cybertron.

"If you want to say something, say it already."

You finished smoking a cigarette and threw the rest of the butt into the bonfire. Sitting on your camping bed, you had also bought a few crackers, chocolate and marshmallows to make s'mores.

"I do not wish for my words to cause you discomfort."

Prime sits a few meters away from you. His back rested against a large trunk tree.

"It causes me discomfort that you keep looking at me," you also didn't want to talk about what happened but you knew Optimus would always think about it every time he saw you. The thought annoyed you, you didn't want him to see you as weak. "You may be a bot but I can tell by your ... Optics that you want to ask something."

Your eyes lay on him. There is a stern expression. Of concern? Curiosity? Pity? All of them three? You couldn't tell and it bothered you.

"Let me guess, it's about me throwing up the burrito right?" you inwardly laugh. Now that you look back, it was so stupid.

"You must be thinking, what kind of person vomits because of a gas station burrito?"

"But it's more common than you think!" you already had a lie planned out. You weren't stupid enough to tell the truth. You didn't trust him. "It just tasted really bad and I don't eat meat. Made me lose my appetite."

To have PTSD because of a steak burrito was not on your to-do list for today. It was ridiculous and stupid. You can usually stand it when you see raw meat but having a taste of it is completely different. You feel pathetic for letting Optimus see you that way.

"I thought most humans enjoyed meat and other types of protein," he wasn't going to let go of the subject too easily. "Why are you different from them?"

"... Personal reasons?"

You didn't think he would care enough to ask any further.

"Personal ... reasons?" he asks, there is confusion in his tone.

"Yes."

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, it's kinda like," you look around and from your marshmallow bag, you take out two marshmallows. "Let's say you are dating someone and then you break up with them."

You move the marshmallows, pretending that they are people. Giving them life by creating a story of them. You put them together and then pull them apart, make them walk and fall.

"Then, I ask why you broke up the relationship and you say personal reasons"

You look up at the metal titan in front of you, he seems more amused by the marshmallows than what you are saying.

"That's like a cue for me to not ask any further questions because you are not ready or you don't want to talk about it," you throw one marshmallow into your mouth, enjoying the softness of it, "It's like a human social cue."

"What is dating?"

Questions and more questions. You would be annoyed but Optimus seems so genuinely curious that you couldn't deny him.

"Well, like," you try to look for the right words but explaining the concept of dating to an alien life was more complicated than you thought. "It's kinda like the time you spend with someone before deciding if you want to spend the rest of your life with them."

Optimus takes a few seconds to process your words.

"I see. Humans and Cybertronians differ on mating rituals."

You didn't like the word 'mating' since it was a term mostly used on animals. But now that you think about it, a robotic alien from a species that had evolved for millions of years may see you as an animal. Either that or he couldn't find a better word.

Nonetheless, the words made you question something. You look up and down at Optimus. Everything seems mechanical to you. Nothing 'natural' about him. But even so, you knew he was a biological begin.

"I hope I am not crossing the line but how exactly do Cybertronians ... reproduce?"

"Reproduce?"

You try to think of another word. From what you can see, Cybertronians don't have any reproductive organs, at least none you can see from the outside. The word 'reproduce' may be foreign to Optimus for that reason.

"As in create a new life?"

He takes a few seconds as if he were thinking of a simple way to explain things to you. You didn't feel offended, on the contrary, you could sympathize. It was difficult to explain to another species how humans work.

"On Cybertron, Sparkmates can build a Sparkling if they so wish. It is a very arduous process but after the construction is done, Primus may bestow a small part of the AllSpark into the transformer and so they come online."

A lot of those terms you didn't understand. But what you could conclude is that the process may be religious, more of a ritual than a natural phenomenon.

"It sounds complicated."

"It is a very hazardous, challenging and exhausting activity," Optimus says as he looks at you and then at the night sky. "But there's also beauty in it."

You take the freedom to look at him. He didn't have eyes as you know but his optics are expressive. Maybe it's the thing you liked the most about him. His optics never lied, it was easy to read and there is some logging in them that almost made you ...

"What about humans?" he looks back at you, unaware of your strange thoughts. "How do humans come to life?"

You look back at your ingredients. Picking up a marshmallow and a stick, you decided these two would be the characters of your story.

"Well, when a man and a woman really ... really love each other," you feel like you are explaining this to a kid but you try to make it as simple as possible.

"They become intimate," you put the stick inside the marshmallow. You take it out and put it in again, in a back-and-forth movement. After a few seconds, you look at Optimus who seems confused. You stop. Maybe you need to be more blunt with him, after all, he was a million-years-old alien robot. Embarrassment may not even be a concept to him.

"And nine months later a baby ... umm a very small human comes out of the woman's belly."

Optimus left the comfort of his seat to move closer to you. His faceplate was so close that you hear his vents and engines move. His optics showed such amusement that you would have allowed him to explore more of you just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Humans have the ability to create life?" Optimus looks at you with awe, his voice softer than usual. "You can give life to a sentient being, with emotions, dreams and hopes? Whenever you wish?"

"Well, I would need a partner first but yes."

After finally taking a deep look at you, he steps back and lays his back on the grass. Laying flat on the ground and having a front view of the night sky with its stars and moon.

"What a great power. Your gods must have certainly loved you to have given you such virtue."

Being able to reproduce another living being was a normal concept for humans. You never consider how difficult must it be for other alien species to conceive life. Especially for those that live millions of years. Humans have a short lifespan compared to that of a Cybertronian. There is no need for them to constantly be having children ... Or Sparklings as they say. Evolution had played them dirty, especially now. That's if they ever plan to repopulate their home planet.

"I wonder ... Since your kind has the ability to create life," Optimus speaks out loud although he seems to be talking to himself more than to you.

"If a Cybertronian and a human were to be intimate as you put it, would a new type of life be born?"

"I think it's more complicated than that-"

"How do your species become intimate?"

The marshmallow and stick explanation didn't work. You open your mouth just to close it again. It's not like it bothered you talking about sex but it wasn't like you were about to open up Pornhub and show Optimus a video. You just find it difficult to explain. It's not like you could say 'penis goes inside vagina' because Optimus would ask 'What is a penis? What is a vagina?'

Maybe it will be easier to explain it in his terms or in a way he can relate. You decide to ignore his question first in hopes that you can answer it later after he responds to you.

"How do Cybertronians become 'Sparkmates'?"

"Sparkmates are extremely rare. In my years I've only met five. There should be more but the war has lasted many eons and there are few of us now," the more Optimus talks, the more you realize that he isn't the quiet type at all. The right questions always make him talk.

"From what I've heard and read, Sparkmates could recognize one another and immediately Sparkbond as a sign of affection."

"Sparkbond?"

"A sacred ritual only reserved for Sparkmates. It is taboo for Cybertronians who weren't Sparkmates to Sparkbond," he continues to talk. You wonder if he is talking because he enjoys it or because he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up.

"But myths say that it is ... an indescribable experience. Even if I wanted to share this information with you, I am unable to ."

"Interesting," you are relieved to know that you weren't the only one having trouble explaining relationships.

"Humans are not like that. We can become intimate whenever we want. Even if we don't love or have feelings for the person we are intimate with."

"Cybertronians also enjoy other means of intimacy," he says as you finally rest on your camp bed, laying flat, looking at the same night sky as Optimus and a belly full of smores. "Most enjoy it with a recreational means."

This sparks your curiosity.

"So ... What other ways can Cybertronians be intimate?

You don't look at him but wait for an answer that never comes.

"I am not certain if that's a proper subject to speak with a lady."

"Oh, come on!" you decide to share some human information, maybe that would encourage Optimus to speak more. "Humans really ... really enjoy intimacy. It gives us pleasure. We actually need to feel a lot of pleasure in order to conceive life. Is it the same for you guys?"

"We do possess the software and right circuits that allow us to process touch and pleasure."

By the way he doesn't dare to look at you, you can tell he is flustered. You are happy to know that Cybertronians can feel embarrassed. Maybe you two aren't so different after all.

"All Cybertronians have different tension points and if caressed properly then ..."

Optimus stops speaking for a few seconds. You don't know if its the archivist in him, with so much knowledge that it's begging to be shared. Or if it is the reporter in you that wants to know more than you somehow find a way to get the answers you need.

"Then?"

The leader of the Autobots stays silent, debating whether or not to proceed.

"I wish to not speak of this further."

"Please, Prime, continue! You were just getting to the good part!"

"Please respect my wishes."

"Fine, fine," you say, quickly thinking of a better question. "But tell me, have you ever been engaged in this type of recreational intimacy?

You pay attention to his faceplate and although he has no clear expression, you notice his cheeks become slightly blue.

"OH, YOU HAVE!" you didn't need an answer anymore, you knew. "Tell me, how was it?! Was she beautiful?"

"I wish to recharge now."

He doesn't deny it and this further proves your conclusion.

"Tell me, please! I am so curious now about alien sex."

"Sex?" his voice is genuinely curious. "What is that?"

"You know what, I suddenly became sleepy too," you put a small blanket over your body, no longer wanting to explain the whole act of human reproduction anymore.

"Let's call it a night shall we?"

"But I wish for you to tell me more about this sex you speak of."

You close your eyes, ignoring his request.

"Goodnight, Prime."

.

.

.

Big Bend National Park in Texas probably has one of the best views of the Milky Way in the USA.

Ever since arriving on Earth, Optimus hasn't had the time to do any exploring as he would like. Free time is never really on his schedule but he finds himself enjoying this time with you.

You had expressed to him the desire to stay a couple more days. Deep down, he also wished he could relax and drive into the distance. He almost wanted to say yes but you had quickly interrupted him, saying that you had work and couldn't afford to lose any more days.

The two of you had to walk on top of a mountain. Mostly, he walked a couple of steps up while carrying you on his right servo.

Optimus looked around the area and then at the sky. He looked up while you looked down. He knows he should be paying more attention, especially when you insist on being the one to scratch the ground with a shovel. He had offered to do it but according to you, he was too brusque and might break the delicate artifact.

He wasn't so sure of that. But he assumed that you felt more inclined to offer your help because you didn't want to feel useless and he wasn't one to want to diminish your efforts.

"There is an ancient story about how the Milky Way formed."

Optimus was so concentrated on looking at the stars that he didn't notice that you had started shoveling.

"A very long time ago, a heavenly god had a beautiful daughter, a princess. She fell in love with a farmer. The farmer also loved the princess."

You continued to talk while shoveling, your voice was agitated and Optimus felt the need to do the job himself. But the last thing he wants is to make you feel unneeded.

"But the heavenly god did not approve of it so he cut off the sky in half. The farmer stayed on one side and the princess stayed on the other. They could never see each other again."

Still, your voice sounds excited. Is excavating that much fun to you? Or was it the story you were telling? Either way, he couldn't tell. But he enjoyed watching you do both.

"The princess would do nothing but cry. Seeing her sorrow, the heavenly god came to a conclusion."

Then, you had come to a stop. He seems some awkwardness in your face. Confusion and uneasiness. Something that is not very familiar to you. But you were pretending not to be.

"I am sorry, I am talking too much. This must be boring-"

He can't believe that he has been paying more attention to you than the story you were sharing with him. A sense of guilt and shame felt heavy on his spark. Was it the stars? Your strange body that he was so unknown to? Otherwise, Optimus can't understand why he would be so fascinated with the scene unfolding in front of him.

"No," he says, walking closer to you. He kneels to listen more closely. "Please, continue."

Seeing his interest, you continued with the last part of the story.

"He will allow his daughter to meet with the farmer once a year. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, a flock of magpies forms a bridge, allowing the lovers to reunite for a single day."

He waits for you to continue and then realizes that you have finished your story. With an ending he did not like.

"That god is cruel. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"It's not a real story," you stop shoveling for a second to look at him. Although the night is cold by human standards, you still manage to sweat. A condition that is extremely foreign to him but he finds it fascinating. The fact that you are able to produce a water-like substance out of your skin is astonishing.

"It's fiction. It gives us an explanation of how the Milky Way was created and it's about the message."

"It's a tragic tale with a tragic ending," he says abruptly, showing his clear distaste for the conclusion. "I do not understand the kind of morale this story is trying to convey."

You stand in front of him. His optics allowed him to study you. Your chest moves up and down. You blink constantly. Your hair moves with the wind and your face wrinkles when you talk. There's not a single part of your body that it's not expressive.

Little by little, Optimus understood why the human poets and artists were so enchanted by the beauty of the human body.

"I think it means that to love is to suffer and suffering can be beautiful."

By Primus, he could have sworn he felt a glitch in his spark. A feeling that lasted less than a millisecond but one he will crave for all of eternity.

"It's a part of life. You can't feel happy unless you experience sadness first," you go back to shoveling, the ground around you has become deeper. Optimus wonders how much longer you will last until you give up and finally ask him for help. He needs to help you.

"And besides the star-crossed lovers can still meet."

"Soon?"

You stop again to look at the watch in your hand. Then you go back to work.

"Right now actually."

Instinctively, Optimus looks up at the dark sky to see falling stars and comets. The milkway splits the black mantle of the night.

"I do not see any birds."

He hears a sound. Like a soft and strange melody, delicate but sweet. It's the first time he hears you laugh.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"Don't mind me. I am just indulging," you say, still giggling a little bit. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I see why you would be popular with the ladies."

"I- Umm-"

He wants to say something, to say more of him. To share things that will make him look more ... capacitated.

"Prime! I think I found it! The relic!"

You use your hands to get rid of the dust of the white pot. Taking a step aside, Optimus is glad to finally help you.Using two of his digits, he pulls the white pot from the ground, easily. It's not big but rather heavy for you. He is surprised that something made for Cybertronians could be this small.

"Mission accomplished," he says. "Let's get back to base."

.

.

.

The last thing you expected to see when you came back to base was to see three kids.

Well, two teenagers and one kid to be specific.

The Autobots had embarrassed looks on their face. Optimus was as unreadable as always. That made the situation even more uncomfortable.

"I departed for three days and returned to find ... small humans," Optimus observes the bots and the three other humans who look a bit scared. "Should I be concerned?"

Arcee steps in, knowing that she is the best to explain the situation.

"We were on a mission to retrieve Energon when we accidentally stumble upon the humans and they got tangled in our affairs with the Decepticons," Arcee says. "Agent Fowler was called and he gave us the order to guard these humans in the meantime."

Optimus stays silent.

"And the energon?"

"We now have enough stored for a couple of months."

He vents heavily and nods slightly.

"Very well then. I approve of Agent Fowler's decision."

Arcee then takes a step back and looks at the kids. She raises a servo, fully open. Not pointing but rather softly signaling.

"Jack, Raf, Miko," Arcee points to each of them for Optimus to learn their names, so do you. "Meet Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots."

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Hey."

Optimus kneels in front of the kids, taking a closer look at them. Memorizing their faces and names. Their appearances gave him a little hint of what their personalities would be like. He liked that, he wouldn't struggle too much to read them as compared to you.

"We have as well completed our mission smoothly," Optimus stands up and moves aside, leaving you exposed to the rest as you were kinda hiding behind his pedes. Next to you the relic that was safely stored inside the white pot.

"Old friend," now Optimus re-directs his attention to Ratchet. "Have you made any advances in discovering information about the relics?"

"No, tragically," Ratchet steps aside from his workstation to show the group the data he has collected so far about the first collected relic. "Good news is that Raf helped me fix the ground bridge so now we can collect the other relics across the globe."

"Very well then, the more pieces we have of this puzzle, the more we are closer to the truth-"

"Wait, is that (y/n) from Jasper TV News?"

Raf interrupts Optimus although there wasn't any malice from it. More curious than anything and excited.

You wave, still not liking the attention but you are not going to be mean about it.

"My mom is a fan of yours! She loves watching the news," Raf says as he gets closer to you. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I have my own shenanigans," you didn't want to tell the entire story, not wanting to divulge your bad behavior. "Long story short, I was in the wrong place, wrong time. Prime came to save me."

"So is Optimus like your robot guardian?"

"Guardian? Please, it's me the one who takes care of him."

You turn to look up at him, trying to tease him and get his approval.

"She does."

You weren't expecting him to answer but you are happy he played along.

"But I won't be here for a couple of days so maybe you three can take of him for me."

This time you look at the other two teens behind Raf who smile to greet you.

"Where will you be going?"

"Work," you say, your voice showing your clear disappointment. "Someone has to report the news and I haven't been attending to it lately."

You turn to face the Autobots.

"Now if it's not too much to ask ... can I get a ride back home?"

"I can take you home if so you wish," Optimus offers but you didn't want to bother him any longer.

"You've driven so much already, I think it's better if you rest."

Then, you hear beeping sounds. It was Bumblebee who had transformed into his vehicle form, opening the door for you to get in. You walk towards him, a bit excited to ride a nice-looking car.

"If you guys really need me, you can text me," you stand in front of the door, ready to hop in. "But besides that, I'll be drowning in work so please don't look for me."

There was some truth to that but you actually wanted some private time so you could write in your journal everything you learned on this trip. From the relic to Cybertronian reproduction. Everything was worth reporting.

"Goodbye, everyone!"

You raised your right hand, giving everyone a clear view of your palm. Waving your hand side to side. Bulkhead and the kids wave back to you while Arcee gives you an acknowledging look. Ratchet doesn't even bother, too indulged in his work and Optimus doesn't say a word.

You hop into Bumblebee as he closes the door.

Everyone watches as you and Bee head into the tunnel to leave the base.

Bulkhead and Arcee walked around the base and showed it to the kids. While Ratchet kept on with his work and Optimus just stared into the distance.

Although Ratchet was too focused on the screen in front of him, he could sense Optimus' presence still in the same room.

It was quiet and to Ratchet this was a bit strange. He looks at the back and finds Optimus still staring into the tunnel. His optics are heavy on him, that look on his friend's faceplate is not unknown to him but it's been eons ago since he saw it.

Optimus walks past the white pot uncarefully, making it spin, almost fall and break. He didn't seem to notice but Ratchet did.

"Did you see that?"

Ratchet asks pointing at the pot that thankfully did not shatter.

"Yes," Optimus says. "Her hands were damaged. Probably due to the excavation she did with the shovel. I should've had helped."

Optimus didn't see it before but your palms were swollen, pink and with a flew blisters and scratches. For a human with a soft skin like yours it must be painful to have.

"No, Optimus," Ratchet is now concerned. "The relic. Be careful."

Optimus looks at his side where the clay pot is extremely close to his pede. He took a few steps back, showing his clear confusion.

"My apologies, I'll be more careful."

Ratchet continues to look at the Autobot leader, wondering how or why he seems distracted. It's unaccustomed for a Prime to act in such ways but Ratchet couldn't completely be mad at him. He sometimes tends to forget that Optimus used to be more than a Prime and it was moments like this when he could see who Orion Pax used to be.

.

.

.

Every day is harder for you to get out of bed but you remind yourself that you need to go work. Tragically, you are not rich nor have anything to your name just a car you were able to pay off. A reporter's salary isn't great but it's not bad either. Maybe if you worked hard enough you will be able to afford to buy a house. A very small one.

You got out of the house, make-up and outfit ready. You weren't one to wear make-up in the office but today you were going to be live on television, reporting an increase in illegal car racing. Not something you were particularly interested in but you would take that any day over-reporting insignificant lifestyle.

You get into your car, put the tote bag in the co-pilot seat and close the door. You take your bag again, making sure everything is in there. Laptop, make-up bag, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

Your phone is missing.

You sigh heavily and take off the seat belt, trying to open the door only to realize you can't.

"Don't worry darling, whatever you need, you won't need it where we are heading."

And that's when you realize that this isn't your car.

Once again, you will be missing work.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Slowburn who? I don't think Reader and Optimus have feelings for each other yet but rather is a fascination for each other species. I think both Reader and Optimus are curious by nature and I think that's why they get along well so far.

If I am completely honest, I am not sure how this story will continue. I just know how I want to end it but it's a matter to get there. Of course, I want to implement some ideas I've had for a while into the story but I want to make it as smoothly as possible without things feeling rushed or making it seem like things happened out of nowhere.

Although I feel like things have strangely improved between Reader and Optimus and it's just the third chapter. So I don't know, I'll see how this story progresses. I've written really long slowburn fanfics before but for some reason I only see this story being around 50k-60k words in total. Which for me, that's a rather short fic.

I definitely want to explore more of Optimus character and mostly importantly, I want him to be able to feel. He may never act upon his feelings but he still feels. Some emotions maybe unknown to him so he may lash or act in certain ways.

I still don't know if I want reader to fall in love first just for Optimus to reject her and through the story we see her moving on and improving as a person (cause reader still has a skewed way look at the world and she is lying to the autobots) and as she moves on and dates other people, Optimus realizes he loves her and he gets angry and annoyed because he starts to have ill feelings like jealousy, rage, confusion, uneasiness and he feels all of that because of you. And of course one day he can't control it anymore and he angrily confesses your love for you under the rain? ( ok I might be making this part up haha)

But anyways, I think y'all get my point.

In the next chapter, I would also like to talk more about the reader and her past. I think she's rather interesting. Not bad but not good either. Her views about life changed and from being someone full of hope she became kinda pessimistic ... maybe Optimus can help her see the good side of life again.

Thank you again to anyone who took the time to read this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes but I don't really proofread since I don't have time. I wrote this while at work actually, haha.

Thank you and see you on the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425691778203648/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Next:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/770605391385133056/the-darkest-hour?source=share

[blubberquark]

Playtesting, Censorship, and Authenticity

I have seen some backlash against Stellar Blade for "caving to censorship". This could probably have been avoided if the developer hadn't previously made full-throated promises about his artistic vision, and if the marketing campaign hadn't released promotional images of costumes the the game. When Stellar Blade finally had to tone down some of the nudity for age ratings and console approval, some audience said they felt cheated.

I don't know how much of this outrage was real, and how much was political posturing. Probably a lot.

This happens all the time. A game is re-released, or re-mastered, the developers have to remove or tone down the edge of parts of the game that was completely fine and unremarkable when the game was released. It happened with Skullgirls, and even with certain cards in Hearthstone. In the case of Skullgirls, the backlash was kind of predictable, because Skullgirls was hardly unremarkable back then. On the one hand, because they originally crossed the line twice, the retroactive censorship wasn't unexpected. On the other hand, half the the point of the game was that it was edgy and anime and looked like it was made by Japanese people who didn't understand what you can and can't say in Europe and North America. It wasn't just gratuitous Nazis and panties, but gratuitously gratuitous Nazis and panties. It's not my cup of tea, as a player or as a developer, but I completely understand what they were going for. In the case of Hearthstone, the removal of the Succubus card/character was in all likelihood due to Chinese censorship, about age ratings on one app store or another, and then they just decided it would be easier to justify and draw less attention if they removed the card/character everywhere around the world, and it would be more profitable this way than if they made the game ages 16 and up in some parts of the world.

There have been multiple instances of politically motivated outrage against games that had hired a narrative design consultancy firm, sometimes fuelled by short, out-of-context clips of activists from these firms bragging how they managed to change the tone and direction of the game despite resistance from the developers, or explaining how they managed to influence management to hire a consultancy firm against the will of the core team.

All this taken together forms a narrative: Outside forces are deliberately pushing designers, developers, art directors, and lead writers to abandon or water down their creative vision.

I think that's misguided for two reasons: First, I think the developers of indie games are either themselves trying to make their games palatable for mass audiences, and they themselves are responsible for the political messaging or general vibes of their work. Second, game design is full of compromise. About that first point: ZA/UM were not secretly pressured manipulated to add in a bunch of politics into Disco Elysium. Concerned Ape was not browbeaten into removing realistic gore and nudity from Stardew Valley. A lot of the time, most of the time, what you see is the artistic vision of the developers, or their political stance. There is no need to conjure up conspiracies. Maybe the remaining Skullgirls developers just have gotten older and don't feel the same way about shock value like they used to.

Most indie games do not self-censor, but I would not be surprised to learn that the more popular and mainstream a game is, or the more popular a game becomes, the more likely the developers are to self-censor. This is because "true artists" that ruthlessly follow a creative vision are usually niche oddities you can download for free (itch is full of them), but also due to the dynamics of indie success. When games develop something of a following and commercial success, so that their developers keep on expanding and iterating on the game, they become more conservative. Just imagine you decide to keep working on a free game of yours that blew up, for financial reasons, instead of working on the next niche thing. If you make this decision, you are probably already motivated by growing your audience, and more likely to self-censor.

This "conservative" approach to game development is usually not about avoiding sex, violence, religion, and politics, of course. It's about making the game easier, avoiding difficult puzzles, complicated narratives, niche literary references, and all kinds of mechanics that could limit your audience. Instead of removing unpalatable elements from a game in the end, you decide to pursue mass appeal early on, and reorient your whole design around that from the ground up. I mean, if you could choose, would you rather develop the next Lunacid or the next Among Us, the next Passage, or the next Vampire Survivors?

I fear if you are following me, you will probably decide to go the starving artist route.

The second reason why you shouldn't worry that much about outside forces influencing games also has to do with game development, but less with marketing. It's fundamental to the way game design works.

Re-makes and re-releases are unusual in this regard. Most of the time, you don't see a fully formed game like Skullgirls that you can compare with a re-release, or Final Fantasy VII, or Silent Hill 2. Most of the time, you only see the final product, and perhaps, if the marketing campaign screwed up, you realise that the final product differs from the promotional material (as was the case with Watch_Dogs or No Man's Sky).

Most of the time, you don't see all the content that was developed and doesn't make it into the game. If you did, you would realise that games usually are not born out of the head of their creator fully formed and armed like Athena from the head of Zeus. Most games are developed iteratively, and although the core of the game is fixed, most mechanics, plot points, levels, and characters are subject to change. Often you only see how well something works once you implement it and try it out.

And then, you only really see how well it actually works when you let somebody playtest it. The clunkiest game mechanics and the most obtuse puzzles feel fine to you if you were the one who thought about them. The worst writing and the most convoluted plots will feel elegant because you wrote them. The only way to see what works is playtesting.

Being "true to your artistic vision" from start to finish is pretty much impossible. If you work together with people, you will struggle to communicate your ideas. This is why big productions resort to mood-boards and all kinds of adjacent junk in their production bibles, why AAA games produce so much concept art, and why games often feel like they are ripping off existing work. It's really hard to communicate to your team that you want to make a game with a certain feeling if that game does not yet exist, but it's easy to communicate that you want a game "like Doom 3" or "like Metroid Prime" or "like Proteus".

If you actually manage to communicate your artistic vision to your team down to the precise minutiae, you will hamstring your artists. You have those artists working with you so you can worry about the big picture stuff while they work on the art part. If you are rigid about your own creative vision, you leave other people no space for creativity, no space to express themselves, no leeway to make creative or design decisions.

And after all that, everything must be playtested, even the big-picture mood stuff, to see if the mood actually comes across when the players aren't already primed by the concept art and the design document and weeks of meetings. If the player doesn't know he is supposed to feel a certain mood, does the game still work?

Both the Skullgirls situation and the Stellar Blade situation are unusual, because the the tone of Skullgirls was edgy on purpose, and Skullgirls concept art had been released in 2012, and the designer of Stellar Blade had already promised not to censor all the eye candy. I think the backlash to Stellar Blade was overblown and politically motivated, and the part of the backlash to the Skullgirls re-release about sanitising their decade old concept art had a point, barely.

If you are making your own game you will quickly notice all the compromises you have to make your game, or maybe you just don't release any concept art or in-progress screenshots, maybe you don't work with other people, maybe you don't even play-test, and just upload a finished game to itch.io without ever reading the comments, like a true artist.

Once you understand that, you will understand that there is a solid core to every game design that you won't compromise on, and a surrounding malleable blob that you want to re-shape and negotiate in order to preserve the core. When you get playtesting feedback that tells you to replace the core with something else, you try to re-shape that blob in order to make the core work. When an idea of yours is not feasible, you compromise to preserve the spirit. If you are making a real-time strategy game, and somebody tells you to make it turn-based, you might ignore them, or you might entertain this feedback. It all depends on whether your core artistic vision is "real time" or "flanking the enemy and using the terrain" or "logistics and intelligence in 19th century land warfare".

The people who are the most rigid about game design are usually teenagers just learning to program. They bite off more than they can chew, and they are completely unwilling to reduce their scope. They are unable to execute on their vision in terms of development skill, unable to understand the consequences of their design choices.

If you are unable to compromise on your artistic vision, you are unlikely to realise it.

[zerosomnia]

Ao'nung x Omatikaya!Sully!reader

Summary: Ao'nung is tasked with helping the reader learn to ride ilu, but he's a bit too harsh for Y/N's liking.

Prompt: "Why would I help someone like you?"

Genre: Slight angst? not really - more Ao'nung being an ass

Word count: 1.6k

Ao'nung glared from afar, staying out of sight as he watched the group of outsiders trying to master the art of ilu riding. Watching them tumble off of the backs of their mounts repeatedly amused him somewhat, in fact, he'd even find it funny - if he wasn't tasked with the begrudging role of teaching them the Metkayina ways. His friends snickered around him as Lo'ak fell especially hard into the water, although this time he didn't laugh. His eyes were focused on a particular member of the group, one of the girls who seemed to hang back in comparison to her bolder siblings. Y/N. You never seemed to act as brash as the others, preferring to keep to yourself, although he occasionally caught sight of the hushed conversations that you held with Neteyam. 

It had become apparent over the few weeks that you had been training that you were not keeping up as well as your other siblings. Breathing had taken you nearly twice as long to understand, and you could still only sit on your ilu if you had assistance. And you weren’t the only one who knew it. When you and your siblings entered your marui pod in the evening, you were all surprised to see the chief, Tonowari, crouched beside your father, seemingly deep in conversation. However, this discussion was quickly finished upon your arrival.

“Y/N, sit.” Tonowari’s voice was kind yet demanding, he was a chief after all, and this was his order. You cautiously crouched down beside the two men, hesitantly glancing between your father and the chief.

“Sir?” Jake seemed to sigh as your confused voice reached him.

“You have been struggling to learn the new ways, right Y/N?” you sheepishly nodded back at your father. “The chief has suggested that you train on a more… personal level,” you waited for your father to finish, but he seemed to have problems ending his sentence. It was clear he didn’t like this suggestion either.

Tonowari smoothly interjected with an explanation for you. “Ao’nung is clearly having some… trouble connecting with the boys,” you stared at him expectantly, if he was referring to the multiple fights they had gotten into; then trouble was putting it lightly. “I think that he would have an easier time connecting with you, alone, than he would with your family as a group.” You stared at the tall man as incredulously as you dared to, although you knew better than to reply. You were not being asked, you were being told.

You quietly nodded at his explanation, it certainly made sense. But why did it have to be him?

“Very well,” Tonowari smiled warmly at you, “I shall have Ao’nung meet you tomorrow morning.”

The next morning you found yourself nervous as you tentatively made your way to the shallows. You had barely spoken to Ao’nung, but from what you had seen he wasn’t the most patient teacher. You longingly found yourself looking over at your siblings as they splashed about on their ilu together with Tsireya, chuckling quietly at how Neteyam and Lo’ak tried to shove one another off their mounts.

“Is something funny?” An icy voice behind you caused you to jump. You found yourself face to face with a piercing set of teal eyes as you turned to the voice’s owner who was standing behind you, ilu in hand. He was much taller up close, broader too. You found yourself wondering how, the considerably scrawnier, Lo’ak had faced up to him without being intimidated. The staring contest between you both seemed to last an eternity before you remembered that he’d asked a question.

“Lo’ak… he fell off.” You stammered out a response, expecting maybe a chuckle on the common ground of bullying your younger brother. Instead his frown seemed to deepen.

“So? You’ve fallen off a lot more.” His tone was critical. Clearly, you weren’t the only one unhappy with this arrangement. “Hurry up and get on,” he scowled at you. “I have better things to do.”

Exasperation flooded through your body as you made contact with the water again, you had been at this for hours, the others had long left the water. And yet Ao’nung insisted you get back on the ilu. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be helping you, he hadn’t actually been much help at all. He had just silently watched. Eventually, after many attempts and an aching body you snapped.

“Are you actually going to give me any advice, or are you just going to stand there laughing at me?”

Ao’nung looked you up and down with a smirk. “And why would I help someone like you? You’re a forest freak, you’re not supposed to be here - you should just go back home.” you felt yourself flush with anger and embarrassment. Of course he didn’t want to help you, this was all just a big joke for him. A joke at your expense.

“If you want me to go back home then you should just leave me alone!” Surprise flickered across his face at your demeanour change, though that was quickly followed by a sigh and a shake of the head as he began to wade out of the shallows that you had been practising in.

Frustrated, you smacked the water. It took you a few minutes to calm down, the images of your other family members succeeding were running through your head, making you feel even worse. But then, a thought struck you. Your father had used a belt to attempt to ride the skimwing, maybe something like that would help you?

You ran up towards the pods, quickly finding some rope that the other tribes people had left out from their weaving. When you returned to your ilu you fastened it around the handle and your hand, suddenly feeling a lot more confident with the support in place. This confidence did not last long though.Despite the fact that you could stay in the saddle now, the ilu was uncontrollable - dragging you through waters at a blinding pace, desperately weaving up and down in the water like a loose hose. Eventually, you felt your hand slipping from both the ilu and the rope, and you were left to fend for yourself. Treading water and trying desperately to recover your breath, you noticed a rock in the distance; some support was better than none while you recovered, right?

Ao’nung found himself worrying, it had been over an hour and you had not come back yet. As he wandered down the beach, squinting across the water for your form, he noticed an abandoned ilu - still saddled and with rope drifting from its handle. Despite his earlier words, he felt a drop in his stomach at the realisation that you were nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t really meant for you to disappear, and now he needed to find you before both sets of parents killed him.

He called for his own ilu, and quickly set to scouring the deeper waters where your ilu was floating around. It seemed to understand his confusion and began swimming out towards a lump of rocks in the deeper waters. He felt his mouth go dry as he realised the ilu was leading him outside of the reef. The outer reefs were no place to be frolicking about, especially for an inexperienced rider like you. He needed to find you, and quickly.

You found yourself entranced as you stared under the water. The rock you had clung to kept you afloat, allowing you to dunk your head under the water and watch the fish swimming by. It was relatively peaceful, until it wasn’t. You noticed a group of fish darting across your view, and you soon saw why as the toothy face of a monstrous fish swam into view. Although it was terrifying, it hadn’t noticed you, and you found your curiosity getting the better of you as you watched it following small groups of fish around. It wasn’t particularly committed to hunting, in fact, it seemed relatively calm as it started to swim back off into the distance. 

Even though the danger had passed, you still felt yourself jump when a splash sounded next to you in the waters. You were even more surprised when you came face-to-face with an ilu, it was only after you calmed that you saw Ao’nung’s head peering round the side of the beast’s neck. 

“Its beautiful isn’t it?” you jerked your head out towards the open waters. Ao’nung hummed lowly in response.  

“It’s an akula,they’re very dangerous.” You laughed at his tentative expression as he watched the bulky form of the fish swim out of view.

“Aren’t all beautiful things?” His ears flicked in response, and when he turned back to you there seemed to be a new resolve in his eyes. It was the first time he had seen you smile.

You clung to Ao’nungs muscled back as he directed his ilu into the shallows to meet your siblings. Immediately they were on you, clamouring to ask about your whereabouts and why you were riding in the deeper reefs with Ao’nung. The boy seemed to freeze up up your siblings’ questioning, unable to respond with a proper lie. “I was struggling to get my balance, so Ao’nung let me ride with him until I could figure it out.” the lie rolled easily off your tongue, and your siblings seemed satisfied for now. As you made your way back towards the marui pods he fell into place beside you.

“You should be more careful next time.” you snorted at his chastising.

“It’s not my fault you left me.”

“Yeah, well,” he paused to pull you to a stop. “I won’t be doing that again, I promise.”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Such a backstabber

The general mahamatra asks al-haitham to uncover 'your web of lies', he accepts immediately. When he asks you what the symbol means he gets an unexpected answer

Wc:990

He should be eating dinner and getting ready for sleeping right now but he is forced to sit through an 'emergency meeting' with the general mahamatra 

" What might be the issue that is so important that it couldn't wait until morning?" The grip on the freshly brewed coffee was just strong enough to not snap it in half

Cyno doesn't blink nor does he get comfortable in the seat, if al-haitham didn't know it was serious before he was sure now.

The air grows thick until cyno spits some words out 

" The third grand sage, YN, is highly likely involved in the usage of knowledge capsule, and possibly trafficking " his red eyes focus on the scribe

"Why do you feel inclined to accuse them of such a thing?" He already knew the reasons. It would be easier to believe a person consumed an ungodly quantity of knowledge capsules than a natural prodigy.

" Someone popped out of nowhere with seemingly all the knowledge of the world and you pretend to act as if it was normal?" It's obvious it's hard to believe 

"And you should know by now, the third grand sage was originally a feral child that learned by imitation and their innate talent" he bit back with the rehearsed answer he had given to everyone before and would most likely keep giving to the public 

" We both know that this is the PR version of the story" he leans over his knees, his eyes hardening " there seems to be some relationship between a dealer of knowledge capsules and the grand sage. I believe i don't need to get further into the conclusion"

"Weren't you the one to stand by the counter effects of repetitive usage? To me they don't seem to suffer from anything similar" that was one of the reasons he decided to look over your history, you not only knew a lot but seemed lucid enough to answer quick questions or riddles about the subject. 

He looks over the window, leaning against the side of his green seat " and even then they seem to have a relationship with a low level trader."

" We both know very well that the akademia has been plagued by lies and scheming, the capsule scandal was only the spark that lit the fire. It would be better for the people of Sumeru if the new grand sages don't have interest that could harm them." Cyno keeps his ground, his tone unshakable and strong " you are one of the few people in the akademia that I can stand, al haitham, it would be a shame if I had to judge you for helping the grand sage hide their whereabouts"

" Well then " al-haitham throws his hands over his shoulders " I'm sure the  general mahamatra don't need my permission to start an investigation, do you?" 

" We already intercepted a knowledge capsule dealer, it seems they set off to the desert, as of now they deny everything but i found this with him" he grabs a book from his bag, it's a very old thick book 

Al-haitham stops drinking his coffee, letting it almost burn his tongue before he swallows " is it really that book? People have been searching for months now"

" 'symbology of the primordial language' it was found in his bag, we have to analyze the capsules but we believe they have these contents"

"I just need you to help me out" he drops the book and a page on the middle of the table, a somewhat simple symbol in the middle  " ask them what this is. It seems to be a kind of recognizement between  knowledge capsule dealers. If they genuinely don't know what it is I will drop the subject for now…" 

Al-Haitham grabs the paper and analyzes it before sighing "fine. Just let me go to sleep."

The sun is shining obnoxiously for it to be only 6:00, Kaveh drank all the coffee in the house so he couldn't get a drop and he got a couple too few hours of sleep that night. It would be short to say he wasn't in his best mood.

Even your voice mixed up with kaveh to give a punch to his migraine

"Sooo~" you call from the table while eating some concoction that looks spicier than the last one. Even if he doesn't dislike certain seasonings he honestly thought you poisoned his food the first time he tried, turns out you just like food like that. " What kind of questions await me today?" Looking at him smugly

" Today is just one question" 

Total silence fills the room "One?" You look at him as if you were about to laugh " what happened with fifty questions a day? Mm? Going soft on me?" 

" Today is a special request"he pulls out the page that was neatly folded " what does this represent?"

Inching closer you turn around your head, trying to find an answer "I'm not sure" He watches, your blinking seems stable, calmly seated and not much moving around compared to before, no hands or clothing to hide your mouth. It seems you aren't lying?  

" I'm sorry haitham, i truly don't know" 

" We have a while, try for a bit more please" 

" Can I offer you something to eat meanwhile? you always come here drinking coffee and calling it breakfast! It's disrespectful to food!" You stand up before he answers, already looking for a plate on the shelf behind him

" Some people are busy, you know? If anyt-" suddenly there is a big crack behind him, the same sound of breaking a plate, turning around he looks at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open " great sage? Are you feeling bad?" Thinking you might have gotten dizzy or gotten low blood sugar he grabs your arm waiting for you to blackout 

Before he can ask more questions you only say something in a very small voice, almost a whisper: I can never outrun it…

[aloneatpeace]

Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 24

Hey guys hope you all are doing well healthy and taking care of yourself, hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think please reblog, like and interact with me it helps me to write. don't be silent reader show your support to the authors and their work it really appreciated by us and keep us motivated, have a good reading, much love 💕

Your author

SC

           𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

BENNETT HOUSE 🏠

After showering and changing into new sets of clothes you head down to the kitchen with rushed steps your bag sling over your shoulder with your costume inside, scott had been on the edge, texting from stiles phone worrying over that he can't find his and worrying that derek being caught by Argent, though you are sure they wouldn't kill derek something about him being held captive by Kate argent rubs you the wrong way. Though the tow you only had a brief confrontation the aura around her was not good and it not the factor that she is huntress, a werewolf huntress who niece is girlfriend of your newly accidently turned werewolf friend.

The fact she saw you and derek together also not good, even when you were shaken from the vision you could feel the hatred and range pouring out of derek then, now connecting the dots and Argent's involvements, Kate Argent hands in the fire make sense but there is something else, something that you still don't know about derek and kate argent, there was a lot of resentment and pure disgust derek was feeling then, it was too much.

Though he is an asshole who really testing your patience you all need derek with you, there is only little you can help with scott's werewolf's side. Derek can tech him more than you can and dealing with peter would be easier if derek is on your side.

"Grams do you know anything about location spell?"

Gram's frown putting the book down on the table "and who did you lost?"

"A grumpy wolf." You sit down next to her

"Peter Hale is the alpha he turned scott after he killed his niece because he wasn't himself though sam and dean said he did that in order to steal alpha spark and I believe that. And then went on rampage killing everyone who caused the Hale house fire which is done by Kate Argent and some criminals and derek just got captured by the Argent scott got shot that's why I didn't come home last night, by the way did have what I asked yesterday"

Grams sighs nodding slowly, she is half minded about helping you since she knows there is no good associating with dark creatures of supernatural but there is no going back now seeing how involved you are now especially since Scott is now a werewolf "I remember the fire; it was truly tragic." You nod "you don't need my help though."

You sit up straight "What you mean? I do need your help to find him and tech my how to handle my powers."

She says your name with a soft tone taking your hands in her "Your power cannot be controlled by me or anyone its only possible by you, chaos magic very different from my power. But that doesn't mean I'll leave everything to you alone. But you need to acknowledge that your power is one of kind in every universe, while you don't use incantations while using your power the magic its incantation the chaos magic manifest from yourself. You may think there is no spell when you blasted my window but there is one."

"So that's mean while you and bonnie gets hand written manual become Sabrina but I don't." She nods you let out a sigh falling back "Thank god because there is no way I was gonna learn the Gilmore."

Grams gives you an exhausted look at your words "But learning can help you when the time needed someone can absorb your power and use it against you so you need to use your power understand and perfect it."

"Yeah, yeah. So how do I find him?"

Grams roll her eyes standing up "Use your head." she walks away you starts to follow her "what you mean use my head.?"

Following her to her room she takes out small box handing to you "here, what you asked for."

"Thanks, but can you be more specific."

"Try doing it your own and understand and feel your powers then we will see the rest."

"Good tip, how exactly I do that?."

"Use your head, that's it."

You huff mimicking her words a beep from your phone alert you making you rush out your home towards scott's home, clenching the little box tightly in your grasp.

MCCALL HOUSE 🏠

"Call it again."

"It's not here. Okay, so you lost your phone. Why don't you just get a new one?"

"I can't afford a new one, and I can't do this alone. We have to find Derek."

Stiles looks offended at his comment "Well, A) you're not alone, you have me and y/n; and B) didn't you say Derek walked into gunfire? He sounds pretty dead."

"Argent's plan was to use him to get to the Alpha. They're not gonna kill him." scott run around the room looking for his device.

"All right, so then, just let them do what they're planning, you know? They use Derek to find Peter, problem solved." Stile's shrug slowing down remembering how you said not letting derek died but recent events had changed his perspective.

Scott frustrated turn to stiles "Not if Peter's going after Allison to find Derek! I can't protect her on my own, which means we either find Derek first--Just-just help me!"

"You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting. You remember that? When he was trying to kill you? After you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson? Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior, here?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone. And I'm not letting him die. And neither does y/n. just because be he gone back being a pain in the ass, she or I don't want him to die."

Stiles narrow his eyes at scott "Are you repeating her name because you think I'm scared of her." scott turns to stiles his brow raised, his lips curled lightly.

"It works doesn't it."

Stile's huff leaning his chin on the chair "It does." He mummers "What?"

"My mom just got home from work."

[on the phone] Hi. It's me. Melissa McCall. I'm giving you a call. That always sounds really weird because of my last name... McCall... So, yeah, um, you know, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to reschedule dinner or lunch. It doesn't have to be dinner-- lunch is good. Or maybe you would like to do coffee, or maybe you're a tea drinker? I don't know... You know, we could also just go out for drinks... Yeah, 'cause I think I need a few after this profoundly embarrassing phone call. So, if this really doesn't freak you out too much after this disastrous call, free free to, um, give me a call...

"Is she okay? What's she doing?"

"Crying." Sitting on the bed scott looks down with a tried face, stiles sit silently scott head perk up, he looks out the window.

"Scott, you can't protect everyone." Stiles says softly standing up from thee chair he walks towards scott "What?" he looks out the window as well.

"I guess I don't have to do it alone." Scott whispers your name; you stand on passenger side of melissa car before getting in.

"Hey, we are really sorry about last night. I know sorry doesn't cut it."

Mellissa sits silent for a moment before nodding you glance at her "you know he wasn't even that good looking did he bring you flowers.?"

"He didn't actually."

"See even I bring you flowers whenever I come to see you." "And I have something right here."

"Are you trying to bribe me with gifts now."

"No, I am gifting something precious to someone who is equally precious."

There is a moment of silence before you speak again "I know you were going out for first time in while and we messed up that, but don't go back to ignoring your life, you already spend sacrificing your life for everyone around you don't hold back from enjoying it again. Trust me Scott doesn't want it nor do I or stiles. You too deserve to live your life as melissa not just as Scott's mom or town's best nurse. We're truly sorry, I really sorry. "

Melissa let out a sniffle her lips curling up "when did you get all wise.?"

"I don't know, no, truly." Melissa laugh "I swear to god, the sappy thing is not my division."

"Just promise me you would wear this all time, please."

"I will since you asked nicely."

"And also, I asked workshop to fix up your car, they will come so I got that."

"You can't change my mind, I already pay for that, don't fight it." you get out the car.

She calls you but you shake your head "I can't hear you." you run towards the house stopping when you see scott and stiles head stick out the window. "What are you guys doing, we have to go now."

Stiles and scott nod before disappearing from the window.

The three you walk through the hallway to class "Anyway what did you give my mom."

"Its charm, grams made it. its connected into my magic and grams it will protect her from supernatural creature, anything that comes to harm here won't be able success. And I will be able feel if anything going to happen he. Just like I did with you."

"With me?"

Stiles excitedly turns scott towards him "oh yeah, last night when we crashed your mom's date with the psychotic murderous werewolf, she just gone blank and said your name and we both run around the woods trying to find. For moment I thought she got possessed."

Scott looks worried at stiles claims his eyes shifting between his friends in concern. "Anyway, got any way to find derek?" he glances your way.

You suck air through your teeth tilting your head sideways "well grams said something about using my head. but I don't know what that means at all."

"that's not good."

"Well maybe stiles or Danny can hack into your phone and find the location."

Scott turns to stiles "why didn't you tell me about that?"

Stiles nervously grins "well, I was inclined to the idea of not bothering about derek."

You and scott side eyes stiles making the said male huff at his friend's judgmental gaze "Hey it's not my fault that he joined his psychotic uncle's murder spree."

"Yeah, anyway you losers got any dates and your costumes' ready.?"

Scott halt on his steps "I thought we all going." Frowning even more when stiles give you the judge eyes "Aren't we not?"

"Well, someone is choosing hoes before bros."

You roll your yes "Stiles"

"Yes?"

"Shut up." You turn to scott "I might have someone but I'm not sure he would even come."

Scott push stiles away making stiles give a bitch face at his action, scott's puppy face full on act "Who?"

"Issac Lahey. But like I said I don't know if he will come otherwise, I've danny to tag along." You turn to stiles with a sweet smile making stiles suspiciously squints his eyes at you "And you know who doesn't have date. Lydia and she's in desperate need of one"

Stiles eyes lit up he push scott away making the later stumble a little he shook your shoulders "How desperate are we talking?"

"Enough that she would say yes to you."

"A little jab at my already nonexistent self-esteem, but I'll take it." Stiles said with a wide grin.

"you're welcome." Parting after giving stiles an innocent smile as the three of you goes to class.

You sigh seeing all your text that been send to Isaac is left unread, and no calls leading to straight to voicemail. The time for Halloween party is getting closer Lydia and Allison had gone for last minute shopping scott following them unknowingly in case peter decided pull any stunts again.

You let out few sneezes that echoes at loud library the scolding of librarian never come leaning your head on your head look around, it is perfect time to do at least try whatever grams said. Shaking your head you sit straight and close your eyes focusing on the sounds around you, the sound of the wind rushing through the windows becoming clear and slowly but surely the you see people and their thoughts swimming around you.

The voice gets loud as it is and pace of thoughts gets rapid and you search for Derek's but it doesn't get easier as the voice and thoughts and face increase your head feel likes its gonna explode. You call out his name just as it gets too much you shudder taking opening your eyes your chest heaving wildly.

On the other side of the town derek jolts awake as he hears your fading voice in his head, he's sudden awake make Kate argent look at him. derek says your name in haze but gets no response.

(I'm thinking this as your Halloween outfit no crown but you're welcome to imagine other outfit as well. )

The costume fits you like a glove, Lydia in her own costume which is Morticia Addams stiles is the one taking her to the party, Allison ironically dressed up as huntress. Something in you doesn't sit right with you, its feel like somethinig big and importantly something bad is going to happen today,  tonight. You couldn't figure out where derek is, now you're waiting for Danny or stiles to come early so one of them can hack into scott phone and find the location.

You groan slumping further in the seat while the two girls get ready, you drown out their conversation not hearing Lydia asking about your date.

Lydia huff before marching towards you she tugs on your hands making you stand up just then you see a vision of her lying unconscious and bloody at the field with peter looming over her with his fangs out and red eyes glowing you stumble at the sudden vision Allison also rush towards you at Lydia yelp when your legs give out though the visions doesn't stop as Allison crouch down next to and you see the image of derek tied to chain's Kate Argents and her and them walking out the Hale's house.

"You okey?"

"Are you drunk?"

You frown at Lydia "no?" they help you stand up your head is splitting "I'm fine, I'm fine...but leg fell asleep, that's it."

Allison looks unsure while Lydia roll her eyes at you "I'm gonna get some water." You drag your feet towards the door hesitantly looking back at them you close the door behind. You hurriedly take your phone out calling stiles but the honk and familiar sound of his jeep on making you look up from the phone you.

You rush to the door opening and close it behind you, stiles step out the jeep his eyes widening at your figure standing speechless. You drag him by his tie moving away from entering the house.

"Woah, slow down."

You impatiently sigh "you need to keep Lydia safe, I saw peter hurting her and I think Allison knows about werewolf she and kite is keeping derek chained in the hale house."

"Woah......woah! wait. What?"

You nod "yeah, I'm going to get derek, you need to keep Lydia safe don't let her go anywhere. And tell scott to be safe." you take out your phone texting and apologizing to Danny that you won't make it to the party.

"Wait...Wait." Stiles take hold of your arm before you can walk away. "Stay with us."

"No stiles, we need derek you need to accept that. You will be okey. just stay with crowed." Stiles tug you again. Stiles goes to the driver seat, and comes back with taser gun.

"Use this if derek tries anything, for the peace of my mind." Stiles exhale before pulling you into a hug "Please come back in one piece."

You sigh into the embrace "you too." Stiles goes inside Lydia house with bouquet of red rose you take out your phone scrolling down until the unknown number that send you mysterious text claiming 'come save your friends' you assume this peter's phone or someone's phone that he uses and send the text.

Series masterlist

[kaepop-trash]

Notorious: Act IV

Rated: 18+ ONLY, Smut, Neo-Noir, Femme Fatale, Undercover Agent, Criminal, Exes to "Lovers", Mutual Pining, Cat and Mouse dynamics but make it hurt.

Pairing: JaehyunxReaderxJohnny

Summary: Inspired by Notorious (1946), Ever since your father went to jail for an illegal arms trade, a lot had changed in your life. Your present was about living with a tarnished reputation, the only redemption being a strange man who you agreed to help get to the root of the same trade that ruined your family. Still, just as you were adjusting to that very man, your past came back to haunt you. The only part of your past that had ever been happy till it wasn't, a part you could leave behind but never forget. But if Johnny was your past and Jaehyun your present, what would your future be?

Chapter Summary: Johnny asks (Y/N) for a precious favour. Jaehyun is against it and she isn't too keen on it either. What do you do when your worst fears come true?

Warnings: Smut; Fingering, Penetration, unprotected sex; Strong themes of alchoholism, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, gaslighting. THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE ASPIRATIONAL.

Word Count: 9.7k

(A/N): This took me a very long time because it was very heavy to write. Without getting too much into it, I just hope everyone can forgive me for being so inconsistent.

Act I | Act II | Act III

Taglist: @commentgirl @sadgirlroo @nak4m8to @babyksworld @milkyway-vxm @hwangfulok-blog

Johnny took her hand in his under the table, an old habit that she had just learned to live with by now. The immobility the gesture gave, made it hard to open the menu so she just leaned over to the side to peer into his.

(Y/N) could see his lips tug from the corner of her eye at the gesture as he brushed a kiss against her temple. When she turned, he gave her a pursed smile, eyes glimmering with the light that had slowly started returning in the past month. The same glimmer that made her fall in love with him once upon a time.

“You should get the shrimp pasta, they make it really well here.” His voice was soft. She had to look away to ignore the thumping in her chest, giving him a nod. He was happier lately, more than perhaps she could recall. The only time she could remember him being happier was the day he got on one knee in front of her.

(Y/N) pulled herself out of her thoughts with a harsh tug, “Sure, that sounds good.” She shrugged. “I’ll have that and a glass of rosé.”

“You’re not drinking.” He stated with a brisk finality.

“Why not?” She turned to give him a frown. “I want a glass of rosé.”

“You don’t need it though, sweetheart.” He lifted her hand, giving it a kiss. “It’s just a glass of wine.”

“Exactly.” She pulled her hand out of his, “It’s just a glass of wine that I want to pair my food with.

Johnny sighed, “I’m just looking out for you.”

“I appreciate it.” She spoke, clearly not meaning it. “I’m still getting myself what I want.

“(Y/N).” His voice was an impatient warning that he tried to soften with a sigh.

“Stop speaking.” She didn’t soften the warning in her tone. “You can’t make decisions for me.”

“Why are you being like this?” Johnny frowned, “I’ve noticed that you drink too much and I’m just concerned. Why are you making me sound like a villain?” He sounded hurt, brows furrowing.

She stared at him for a moment, feeling whiplash from how rapidly he made her feel nineteen years old again. She had to look away to curb her anger. She reminded herself that she wasn’t nineteen anymore and took a deep breath instead of just spitting her anger out at him. She was not going to make it easier for him.

“I’m not trying to make you sound like a villain. That was not my intention, I apologise if it sounded like that.” She surrendered, looking away and catching a waiter’s eye.

Johnny looked extremely confused from her admittance, forehead creasing for a second before he sighed and gave her a tight lip smile. Johnny had been ready for a fight. One where he could emerge as the martyr, as was his habit. And she was not going to make it easy.

“I just want what’s best for you.” He reasoned.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She hummed, looking up just as the waiter approached. When it looked like Johnny was going to reach for her hand, she busied it by reaching for her glass of water. Johnny didn’t say anything, neither did he make any further attempt to touch her. When the waiter asked if they wanted something to drink with their food, she said no.

“They have a raspberry pudding on the menu.” Johnny spoke for the first time once their plates were empty. "Should we order some?" He asked, speaking like he was walking on eggshells.

"Sure." She spoke, giving him a compliant nod. Johnny flexed his jaw, turning away from her to call a waiter. His forehead creased with clear markings of irritation. The audacity of it offended her, but she willed herself to keep her mouth shut and they finished their dinner in silence.

They made it back to his house like that, Johnny following behind her as they ascended the stairs that led to the living room.

"Why are you angry at me when I was just looking out for you?" He spoke just as she turned to go upstairs to the bedroom.

"Who said I'm angry?" She resisted the urge to frown.

"You are angry." He huffed.

She turned to him with eyes void of any emotion at all. "No I'm not.” She lied. “You just want me to be angry because then you can tell me how you were looking out for me and how I'm not justified in my anger."

Johnny looked a little caught off guard by the assessment, yet recovering in a beat. "I was looking out for you."

Sharp anger rose to her head from the repeated sentence. Like if he said it enough times, she'd somehow believe him. Or he’d believe himself.

"I know. And I am not angry. I said I'm sorry to you then. So why are we having this conversation?” She furrowed her brows, feigning confusion.

“I know you. I especially know your anger.” He injected.

“Was deciding what I'll consume not enough? Now you want to decide how I'm feeling?" The words slipped off her lips with increasing hostility, realising too late when Johnny's frown unfurled. He had trapped her.

"I thought you weren't angry." He took a step closer towards her.

"I'm not." She turned away from him, feeling like a child caught in a lie.

"I wasn't trying to control you.” He took a step on the stairs, coming around her to meet her gaze— and to tower over her. “I was just doing what someone who cares would." He tried to reason, tone still infuriatingly chastising.

"I didn't say you were controlling me." She said without bite, not looking up at him, adamant to not give him anything to use against her again. She knew how he fought, always ready to make himself the victim so she was left to be the perpetrator.

"In only so many words." He came closer, putting a hand over the one she had on the railing. "I just don't see why you drink all the time. You almost finished the whiskey I keep in the office." His tone changed and she tried to move away from the concern.

"I'll buy you more." She tried to go around him, stopping when he squeezed her hand to curb her ascend.

"You know that's not what this is about." His voice edged on a sense of betrayal. "I know things haven't been easy for you. Nobody knows that more than me. But this isn't the answer. Sometimes we need to face things instead of hiding behind temporary solutions."

She gripped her own jaw this time, tight me enough that her cheekbones ached.

"You're assuming too much." Her voice was low, a dangerous line where any louder would make the rolling fury in her erupt. "I'm not hiding." She turned to look at him, "I'm sorry my drinking concerns you. But I don't do it as a crutch." She defended herself, neither of them believing her words entirely.

Johnny looked like he was going to say something but he let go, leaning closer to kiss her brow instead.

"Let's not be like this. I don't want us to fight over every little thing like we used to." He mumbled against her, pulling away to give her a smile and pulling her hand away from the railing into his.

She didn't protest, giving him a nod that they both knew was half hearted.

That night (Y/N) went home. Johnny didn't say anything when she asked to be dropped to the apartment, he knew why. She always took time to be by herself when she was angry. He always told himself that it wasn't to be away from him, but to see the arguments with a much needed distance. He always told himself that she did exactly what he did. And he accepted it because out of all the times she left, it was only once when she didn't come back. He knew this time wouldn’t be the second.

A few days later he asked to meet her at a cafe on Copacabana. Without considering it a choice, she went.

"I'm getting an award." Johnny spoke first, taking the time to drink his coffee before doing so.

Her lips parted to silence, unsure about how to react. "For what?" She asked, swallowing after.

Johnny failed to bite down the smile at the corner of his lips, "Some business award. The company made good profits last year."

"That's great, Johnny. I’m so proud of you." She gave him a smile, weak despite her conscious effort.

"I want you to come with me." He added, stumbling over the words.

"Where would we go?" She questioned with a lighter tone. Johnny didn't respond immediately, instead avoiding her gaze and fidgeting with the handle of his small espresso cup. Realisation dawned on her, squeezing her lungs painfully. "No. I can't." She wanted to sound firm but her words came out a plea.

"It'll just be for three days. It'll be over before you know it. Just an evening of meeting a few strangers." He added with a soft look in his eyes.

"Johnny, I–" she tried to reason, to explain to him how he was asking the impossible of her. "Everybody will talk. Home is–" her words failed her again.

"I know." He reached across the table, grabbing her hand. "But I'll be right there with you. It's an important day for me, (Y/N). It's an important day for the business. So many of my father's family fought tooth and nail to break the company apart. They said I could never take on my father's mantle." His fingers squeezed her palm. Unintentionally, she noted.

"This award." His jaw flexed, "It's a product of every effort I put, everything I've sacrificed. It's proof that all of it was worth something in the end." His eyes clouded with some far away storm, mirroring the encroaching clouds above them. “For them, at least.”

He snapped out of it at the moment, looking at her with a soft smile, "Everybody else there will be an enemy or a stranger. I want you to be there. You're all I have."

His words made the pressure on her lungs shift to the cavity of her heart, pressing down with a punishing weight. There was nothing to say to such a heartfelt plea. It didn't matter that going back home was something that would bring her nothing good, not when the alternate was so heartbreaking.

She could picture Johnny standing there, receiving some mass produced trophy while apathetic and vindictive people all watched and clapped. 

It also seemed to make her see how lonely he must have been all these years. All his achievements, small and big, as well as his failures passing by without a person to pat his back or lend their shoulder. 

"Alright. I'll come." The way the simple gesture made his entire face light up did not make her feel good. These days she was found guilt becoming a chronic pain— one that bothered constantly but had bouts of intensity.

The Two Faces of Concern

“You can’t go.” He got off the sofa in a fury. “We don’t know what kind of people he associates with. We don’t know what could go wrong.” His brows fluffed up in fury, knitting together impossibly tight.

“I don’t have a choice.” She looked to the floor, confused and angered by his demeanor. “What am I supposed to say when he asks me to go with him for something so important?”

“You say you’ll think about it.” He added with an incredulous fury. “Then you come to me! And I we come up with an excuse for you.” His voice rose higher.

“That’s not going to work.” She needed to pause. After so many years, such constant bouts of anger felt unsettling to her. “You don’t know him. That’s why I’m here. Your boss gave me a task. To keep him close and to keep an ear out. I am doing exactly what I was told to do.”

“You can’t do anything if you’re dead!” He pointed his hand at her, his gesture and tone bordering on accusatory. He paused, taking a step back and swallowing. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, a hand coming to his waist while the other rubbed his face.

He walked a few steps around the room, trying to calm down it seemed, before coming back to her. This time he kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Listen to me.” He urged. “Look at me, (Y/N).” He practically pleaded. The desperation in his tone was the only reason she turned to face him. “I know that you think you’re safe. I know you believe you know this man because you knew him once. But you don’t know what he’s capable of. What he’s already done.” He sighed, no doubt understanding the stubborn refusal in her.

Jaehyun’s head dropped, looking defeated. “If something happened to you. I would never forgive myself.” He put a hand on her thigh. The way she turned to glare at it made him recoil. “You’re my responsibility.” He spoke after swallowing the hurt from her gesture. “I’m the sole reason you agreed to do this.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She interjected. She thought the blow would make her feel good about herself. But seeing his face drop only tugged at her now sore chest.

“Why did you agree to go?” He asked, his eyes turning into frigid slits.

“I didn’t think I had a choice.” She repeated herself, each word uttered with a pause to emphasize.

“You always have a choice.” He threw his reciprocating blow with a featherlight tone. Her lips parted from offense, ready to defend herself. But he clarified, “I’ve been watching you. I’ve seen how you change around him.” His accusations cut through her like knives.

“And what change is that, pray tell?” She questioned.

“Your edges soften around him. You let him sway you with his words. You believe his lies despite yourself.” He assessed clinically, like a man whose job it is to read people.

“I feel sorry for him!” Hot tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, “Surely you can at least try to understand how it must feel. And I'm always tiptoeing around him because your boss wants me to keep him happy!" She deflected the accusation, distantly wondering why she was getting so defensive.

“He’s devoted to you.” Jaehyun simply stated, looking away from her with a grimace.

"I know." She spoke around the lump forming in her throat at her own confession. "Which is why your caution is out of line."

"The more the devotion, the more betrayal he will feel eventually, (Y/N). Remember that when you're in a different country with him, out of my reach. When I can't save you if something happens." He cautioned still.

Maybe his words made her feel like a child, something she hated feeling, because her next words were self-admittedly out of line.

"I'm out of your reach every time I'm in his bed too, Jaehyun." The words were no louder than a pin dropping. “He could choked me to death while inside me and you wouldn’t know.”

Jaehyun got up in a huff that left a gust of air in it's wake. He turned away from her swiftly as she tried to push down the part of her that wanted to take the words back.

"When are you leaving?" He questioned, adjusting his clothes and distracting himself.

"Day after." She answered dispassionately.

"The least you can do is keep me updated on your whereabouts. The captain will need a report on it." He was already ready to walk away.

"Sure." Her response was the final task he had, taking long strides and shutting his bedroom door with a loud thud.

She sighed, the solitude allowing her to finally drop each pretense she had to keep up just to survive each day. 

Tears were almost commonplace on her lashes now. Angry tears, frustrated tears, heartbroken tears and tears of defeat. But each fresh bout always left her feeling betrayed by her own body.

Home

Coming home was odd. Even from the moment she landed, the airport was very familiar to her. Johnny didn't point out how silent she was ever since they landed. In fact, he seemed deep in his own thoughts while both of them watched the familiar streets pass by.

(Y/N) was so engrossed in her thoughts that it took her a while to realise that that the streets they passed were a little too familiar. When they stopped in front of a building she would recognise anywhere, her heart dropped into her stomach. When she turned to look at Johnny, his smile was a small one. The gleam in his eyes though was unmistakable.

“How?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go home first, I’ll tell you upstairs.” He told her, reaching over to take her hand in his. To go Home.

Walking into her old apartment was like being transported back in time. Everything was as she remembered, including the little trinkets of decoration scattered around the space. The teal vase on the table in front of the foyer, the dark green couch, even the white curtains were all things she had bought herself once upon a time. (Y/N) was speechless.

“When I heard they were auctioning your father’s estate after the trial, I tried not to give it mind.” Johnny spoke after closing the door behind him. “But I ended up looking up the catalogue.” She could hear him come closer, her eyes still busy scanning her old apartment. “When I saw that this apartment was on the list. I couldn’t help myself.” He stopped a few steps behind her.

“How?” Her voice gave away her surprise, “How did you pay for it? Your father was still–” She stopped, unsure of whether that was a line she could tow.

“He didn’t even know about it.” He stated with a razor thin edge to his voice. “I broke my trust fund and managed to buy the place with everything intact.” He continued, sounding so utterly dismissive about it.

“Johnny.” She finally turned to face him, all the building emotions bubbling up her throat. 

“This was my home too.” His hands remained in his pocket, eyes on the floor. “In my entire life, this was the place I was the happiest. I wasn’t ready to let that go. Especially when it was one of the rare things I had the power to keep.”

She could understand his feelings even if the gesture overwhelmed her. She remained silent for a moment longer, just looking him over till Johnny shifted under the prolonged scrutiny.

“You’re making me nervous.” His forehead creased. The chuckle that left him was dry.

Good. She thought, now he knew how she felt around him all those years ago.

“Say something.” He added with a smaller voice. "Please."

She took two steps till he was in arm’s reach, clutching at his t-shirt to pull him the rest of the way. Their lips met in a clumsy crash, teeth clashing into teeth. Johnny’s arms snaked around her waist to control the pace.

There was no haste in their movements anymore. Johnny had nothing to prove this time, and she had nowhere to hide. It was a slow kiss that only existed to exist. Like walking around your house in the dark because you know every turn like the back of your hand.

When his hips pressed against hers, she stumbled back with confidence. Letting instinct take over, they moved towards the destination known to them instinctually. She didn’t even realise where she was stumbling to till her back pressed against the piano.

His hands dragged down her back, and she leapt without being told, arms resting on his neck. Gingerly, he sat her down on the polished black surface.

“This is still my favourite place to fuck you.” He whispered against her mouth, peppering kisses over her face as he stroked her dress higher up her thighs.

“Me too.” She answered, tugging his belt off with a quick tug.

“I have waited.” He spoke between his increasingly heavy kisses, “I’ve laboured.” He nipped against her shoulders, “I even prayed.” His tongue swirled over the vein on her neck, bringing short gasps from her. “And I would have done more.” He dragged his teeth over her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “I would drag down heaven to earth, if it meant I could have you back here. That’s why I couldn’t let this place go. Because I will never let you go.” 

His words left her light-headed, unable to breathe. After tugging his pants below his waist, she sighed with relief when he pulled it off the rest of the way himself. Her hands reached the hem of his shirt just as his index tapped her thigh, a silent request to lift her hips off the piano. The remainder of their clothes hit the floor together, lips crashing together shortly after the interruption.

“Sometimes I think I’ve finally gone crazy. That I wished for you so bad that I created an illusion just to survive.” His laboured breath fanned her neck.

“I told you.” The strain of her breath matched his, “If this was a dream it would be easier.” His fingers brushed over her naked heat, slipping into her slowly.

“No.” He said as her eyes fluttered shut, “I wouldn’t be, (Y/N). I love all of you. Even my illusions would be of who you are, not who you can be.”

“Including the difficult parts?” Her jaw dropped when he began scissoring his fingers.

“Especially those. But you already know that.” He kept up his ministrations till Johnny was satisfied that he’s stretched her out well. "I know you feel the same." There was a fragile hope in his voice.

“I can’t love what I don’t know.” Her heart began hammering, and it had nothing to do with how he brushed over her G-spot. She willed her eyes to look into his, “Tell me your worst.” She requested, eyes meek but voice resolute. Her form faltered when he began to enter her without warning, easing himself in a few inches at a time. “You already know all of mine.” She lied.

“I will. One of these days.” He promised, both of them groaning when he filled her up completely.

She knew his words were a lie. Johnny would never tell her the truth. It wasn't because he didn’t want to, she knew that he craved understanding more than anything else. His claims of seeing her so absolutely came with the desire to want to be seen with the same transparency. But he’d hold the secret to himself because he knew her. 

He knew that she would struggle to accept the reality of who he was. Two months ago, he would have been right. These days she felt like this charade was marking itself on her skin.

“Johnny.” She moaned when she felt her gut tie into a knot. “Don’t stop.” She pawed at his chest, unsure whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

“Never.” He promised again, leaving a trail of gentle kisses all over her face as he increased his pace. He watched her intently as her face scrunched up, her jaw going slack as she came crashing down.

She wasn’t sure when he came, but when he pulled out, she felt the warmth ooze out of her. Exhausted from the long trip and everything that followed, her thoughts lost the ability to linger, and she simply leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder, surrendering her weight soon after. He picked her up with ease, lifted her legs to wrap around his waist and guided them to the bedroom that was once hers— that they once shared during a time when the future felt a lot more certain. 

She fell asleep in his arms and, for the first time in years, it felt right. She blamed her old apartment and her sleep-addled brain for it. With your eyes closed, it was hard to remember when in time she was.

The next two days were spent locked away. The days were passed between the sheets, caught between the memories of a once-perfect life. 

Johnny was lighter here. His eyes were brighter and he was less burdened by his own notions. It felt closest to the Johnny she was once crazy about from afar. It was the Johnny she went to watch at basketball matches in school and then at his University when he graduated before her. She didn't even like basketball.

He even resorted to his old sense of humour. One she had almost not noticed the lack of. Despite all signs pointing to otherwise, (Y/N) always knew Johnny for his intensity. To see him like that all the time now had begun to feel natural to her.

So it surprised her when she seemed to easily match his quips with her own. He was surprised too, she could tell with a dizzying sense of glee. For the first time, their relationship seemed to be on equal footing. Even if the relationship itself was a sham.

"Have you decided what you want to wear to the ceremony?" Johnny questioned over breakfast on the third day. 

She shook her head at her omlette, "I figured you'll pick." She shrugged.

Johnny looked pleased when she met his eyes, trying to hide it like he was caught. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to." He stated as he reached for his juice.

"Why not?" She frowned, "You always pick outfits for these things."

"That's exactly why I wasn't sure."

She felt ambushed by the remark, not sure why he sounded so aggrieved. Not wanting to ruin a good week they had been having, she acted like she didn't notice.

"One less thing to worry about." She tried to keep her her tone light, brushing it off with a shrug.

She ended up joining him on a quick errand run in the afternoon. He promised to quickly drop something off at the office before taking her to buy something. Having nothing better to do, she agreed.

When she walked into Johnny's office, she was aware that people watched as they walked by. Despite only coming into the building a handful of times her entire life, it was understandable that they knew who she was. The lingering whispers told her that they probably knew what she had once done too, or what her father did. It was like the moment she left the safety of seclusion, she was reminded once again how stifling this world could be.

(Y/N) stood in the changing room, running her hands over the fitted bust of the dress on her. She tried to picture herself, standing beside Johnny on an occasion where he was the guest of honour. All eyes on him, and as a consequence on her. Her hand turned over, knuckles digging into the beading on the corset. Did she look like she deserved to stand beside a man like that?

The last thought soured in her mind the very next second, a burdensome idea that pulled out the rotting creature inside her— the creature of habit. She walked out to look for the attendant to unzip her, only to find that Johnny had returned from browsing the shop. He looked up when he heard the curtains draw open, his attention seizing immediately.

"You look beautiful." He told her, eyes dragging over her entire form before coming back to her eyes and making her cheeks heat up.

"I don't like it too much." She looked away from him, busying herself with scanning the rack of clothes she had picked for fun. All in an attempt to avoid second guessing herself in the face of his compliment.

"I picked something for you." She didn't know when he had moved so close, gasping when his breath hit the back of her neck.

Her fingers stilled on a dress she thought would flatter her, a dress she could actually like. "Show me." She asked softly.

She ended up picking the dress Johnny picked. Looking in the mirror, it felt like the dress that most suited the intention she was going for. Most importantly, Johnny looked happy when they left the boutique.

He was still grinning when they got into the car. He turned to her with the kind of sparkle in his eyes that still never failed to make her heart skip a small beat. She blamed this on the fact that those sparkles were now rare.

“I just have one last thing to do and then we can go home. Do you want to get dinner before that or do you want to eat at home?” He reached over to take her hand in his.

“Let’s just eat out. I don’t want you to go back and cook, that’s too exhausting.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged.

“Yeah but I do.” She laughed, “I want you to myself after we get home.” She looked away from him with a coy smile. Laughing when Johnny leaned closer as she predicted.

“You know how to convince a man, (Y/N).” He teased her.

“I know how to convince you.” Her eyes rolled back as his lips pressed against her neck, lips parting when he hummed.

“Of course you do. I am a lucky man, after all." He placed a kiss on her neck, lingering long enough to elicit a reaction from her.

The driver stopped, silently signalling their arrival. (Y/N) looked out the window, confused about what she saw. 

“A jewellery store? Should I be worried?” She only partially joked, swallowing her folly when he gave her a half-hearted smile in response.

"Rin is getting married next month. I wanted to get her something nice." 

“Oh,” was all she could manage in response. "But she's so young." She mumbled, picturing the small girl that followed Johnny around.

He laughed, his cheeks stretching into the whiskers she hadn’t seen in years till that moment. "She's younger than us for sure." He reached out, taking her hands into hers. "But old enough to start her own family, I guess." He squeezed her knuckles once before giving a tug. "Let's go?"

"Oh, I-" She looked out of the window beside her, "What will I do?" She said awkwardly.

"Give your fashionable opinion on what to get." He shrugged avoiding her gaze, opening the door on his side to the curb.

(Y/N) felt confused by the change in his demeanour but nodded with a smile, following him out of the vehicle. Johnny took her hand in his, squeezing it once again.

“You look so beautiful today.” He gave her a tight lipped smile, not really looking at her before saying it. 

Her brows knit together, wondering why he was acting strange. The question was bubbling up to her lips as they walked into the store. And then a sound made her turn to look.

“Johnny!” Rin squealed with a wide grin. The next moment her eyes fell on (Y/N). Her smile flipped instantly, gaze steeling over. Johnny squeezed her hand again.

“Have you picked anything yet?” He asked back, trying to hide the strain in his voice with a breezy laugh.

Rin didn’t speak, she didn’t move. All she did was stare at (Y/N), eyes full of suspicion and disgust. (Y/N) pictured the Rin she remembered, with the wide and kind smile that both her and Johnny got from their mothers.

(Y/N) wished the ground would swallow her, or a strong wind would sweep her away.

“What is she doing here?” Another voice chimed in, Rin’s mother. (Y/N) squeezed Johnny’s hand, he didn’t reciprocate.

Rin’s eyes caught the moment, falling to their joined palms. “They’re back together.” She said in tandem with her realisation, turning back to face her mother. A silent conversation passed between them where (Y/N) only caught the look on the mother’s face. More distrust, even more disgust. 

Johnny’s aunt never liked (Y/N). Her family was a newcomer in their circle, moving into town after her grandfather sold their ancestral property to his government. (Y/N)’s family was older than theirs, and they were richer than Rin’s father. 

(Y/N) and her father were born in this city. But to Rin’s mother and those like her, (Y/N) was always going to be just one thing. A foreigner.

“Yes we are.” Johnny spoke up after several moments, his voice small. He tugged at her hand lightly, making her realise that (Y/N) had shifted to hide behind him. “You know how much Rin loved to dress up in (Y/N)’s clothes. That’s why she wanted to help pick my gift.”

(Y/N)’s ears rang so loud that she didn’t hear their response or what Johnny said in return. She slipped out of the present moment, wrapping herself in her mind and hiding in its comfort. Rin used to love dressing up in (Y/N)’s clothes because she was a teenager whose parents dressed her like a toddler. Rin used to look upto (Y/N) because she was her favourite cousin’s favourite person. And now she was the one who ruined her favourite cousin’s soul.

A hot shiver racked up her chest that felt like a sob and (Y/N) crushed it between her newly manicured nails. Johnny tugged her forward and she followed without resistance, not even thinking of the action. Unlike them, she would not be allowed to show her own betrayal so blatantly.

“What do you think about this?” Johnny’s voice snapped her back to reality, bringing her focus to his hands. He held a necklace littered with diamonds, sparkling so hard that she had to squint.

“Feels too much.” She spoke before she could think. When Rin’s mother shot her a look, (Y/N) bit her tongue.

“I think we should get something smaller.” Rin chimed in, tone clipped.

“No that isn’t what I meant.” (Y/N) tried to say, but Johnny frowned and she realised that her thoughtless words had done something to offend them all. So she just exhaled, “I think Rin’s opinion is what should matter, Johnny. She should pick.” She squeezed Johnny’s arm and gave the women the best smile she could manage.

(Y/N) took a step back, deciding that was the best course of action. This wasn’t her world anymore, she tried to remind herself. What these people thought about her didn’t matter anymore.

That is what she repeated to herself over and over as she found a chair to sit on, trying her best to stay out of anybody’s way. Away was where she had intended to stay till Johnny was done. After the rush of immediate injustice subsided, she wondered if she was being unfair. Rin was Johnny's cousin in name. In practice, she was the closest thing he had to a little sister. They grew up side by side and he had always adored her. When his mother died, Rin lost her aunt as well. They shared that loss.

Rin was family and she loved her brother. (Y/N) just wished that Johnny didn’t bring her here. No matter his intention, he must have known that this would be uncomfortable for everyone. (Y/N) took a deep breath, tearing her gaze away from the happy smiles the three shared. She reminded herself again that this wasn’t her world anymore.

In an effort to distract herself, (Y/N) scanned through the pieces of jewellery in the glass cases around her. She got up to look around, browsing to picture what the owner of each piece would be like. 

She saw a blue sapphire tiara that would belong to an oil heiress, a 25 carat topaz cocktail ring that looked like it was bought by a widow who inherited a barony, and a macau brooch that looked like it belonged to the mistress of a dictator. Each piece stood out with an inherent personality and she was almost lost in their worlds during her brief lingering study.

She stopped in front of a bracelet of ruby. The individual stoned were laid in so seamlessly that it looked like one dazzling sheet of the vibrant stone. Only on close inspection could you see the hexagon cut stones with an occasional deep green emerald and clear diamond tucked in between the sea of red. The bracelet looked like it was seeped in blood because of the deep hue of the rubies. (Y/N) concluded that this would belong to someone who had blood on their hands, the sparkling diamonds distracting from the ocean of red.

“Do you like it?” Johnny spoke and she jumped. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had been sneaked up upon. Jaehyun would be pissed if he saw how badly she had let her guard down today.

“Not at all.” She said, turning away from the display to turn to him.

“It’s exactly your taste.” Johnny countered, brows furrowing in that signature confusing way. Where one couldn’t tell if he was concerned or furious.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew my tastes better than me.” She dismissed his words, walking away to find more temporary lives to live between shiny stones.

“Of course I do. It is the buyers burden to pick the right gift.” He smirked.

“You don’t need to buy anything so don’t burden yourself.” She shrugged.

“It would look beautiful on you. It looks like it was made for you.” He insisted, “Let me get it. I want to see you wear it.” He raised his hand to call for an attendant. She grabbed his wrist immediately but the action did exactly what she feared. Along with the attendant, Rin and her mother turned to them.

“Could you please show me this set?” Johnny asked.

“Set? Johnny wh-” She tugged at his sleeve but he clicked his tongue. “Please, you’re here to buy your sister a wedding present. Don’t do this, it looks bad. What will they think, Johnny? They already hate me.” She whispered and hissed but he was undeterred.

“They don’t hate you. They just think they still have to pick sides.” He said with excruciating naivety. “Besides, it’s my money. I will do what I want with it.”

The attendant walked up to the case and she had no choice but to let it go.

“A beautiful choice, Sir. They say a high quality ruby is rarer than a diamond. Each stone is individually sourced from around the world to have the same pigeon’s blood hue.” He spoke to them while being loud enough to be heard by Rin, assuming she was the one he had to convince.

“Rubies don’t really suit Rin.” Her mother laughed from across the room. “Plus I don’t think red would be appropriate for the wedding.”

“It’s for (Y/N). Johnny said without turning to them. But (Y/N) was looking and she saw the women’s face. If she believed that Ruby wasn’t an appropriate choice before, she now wanted it nonetheless.

“Look.” Johnny whispered close to her ear, “It’s perfect.” He was loud enough for just them.

(Y/N) turned at his words, failing to catch her gasp in her throat. It truly was a beautiful set. The bracelet, as beautiful as it was, seemed to be a puzzle piece of a larger masterpiece. The necklace was a mofit of ruby flowers with only a few of them having equally splendid emerald leaves. The earrings too were beautifully set scarlet rubies with joints of diamonds. The whole set that diamonds on the joints but it did truly fill like an afterthought, a blank canvas to highlight the rubies the same way the emeralds conntrasted them. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and she hated the fact. She hated that she wanted it despite herself.

“I love it.” Her voice wavered. It was the truth but she wanted him to think it was a lie. She wanted him to think she didn’t want it, but also hoped that he knew how much she appreciated it. Her head hurt.

“Wear it for me when we go home. Just this.” He had the gall to ask.

She decided it best to respond to him in fear of what she’d let slip. Hopefully, Johnny would get the hint.

She stayed by Johnny’s side till Rin had successfully picked her choice. They didn’t acknowledge each other but Johnny slipped his arm around her waist. If Johnny thought that a few stones would make her forget what he did today, he truly must have started believing that she was a figment of his imagination.

The necklace Rin had picked for herself was beautiful, a string of dazzling transparent diamonds with the occasional pink stone that made it look whimsical. But (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how Rin’s mother kept eyeing the closed lid on the ruby set.

“If the box is that beautiful, the thing itself must be a treat.” She commented.

“It is.” Johnny grinned, opening the box to show it. 

Both of their lips pursed on seeing the set. (Y/N) bit her lip harshly, only feeling the storm inside her growing. Rin looked away with a shake of her head, turning back to her own gift with a gentle smile.

“Johnny you should come for my party! It’s in an hour anyway.” Rin beamed, clearly happy.

“Sure.” Johnny shrugged, “We would love to come.” 

All three women turned to Johnny but he looked like he did not notice. (Y/N) bit her tongue, hoping that his aunt would chime in again. But she did not.

“Sure.” Rin spoke after the excruciating silence, “See you there.”

“She doesn’t even want me there!” (Y/N) tried to explain, struggling to keep her voice levelled lest he accuse her of overreacting.

“If she didn’t, why would she ask you to come, (Y/N)?” Johnny spoke to his laptop, having it on his lap since they got back into the car with the excuse of pending work. In truth he was doing his best to avoid her justified fury.

“She didn’t! You made us a package deal.” She huffed, fist clenching in her lap, creasing her dress.

“We are a package deal.” Johnny looked up at her, frowning. “That’s what it means to be in a relationship, does it not?”

Her first clenched tighter, “That isn’t the point, but you don’t care so why bother?” She was so livid that a defeated laugh slipped past her lips. “Just go without me. No one will want me there, this is unnecessary.”

“They will suck it up then. You are my girlfriend, if someone has a problem with that then they will have to tell us both to leave.”

“I don’t want to go either, Johnny.” She took both his hands into hers, trying to make him look at her. She pleaded with him now, desperate to be released from this. “You will make this uncomfortable for everyone, including Rin.” She tried to use his precious cousin to make her point.

To her relief, it looked like he was considering it for a moment, grinding his teeth together as his eyes remained still on her.

“I’ve already said we’re going. We can’t cancel.” He stated plainly, taking his hands out of hers.

She laughed again, the same furious laugh of utter disbelief and even more betrayal. She was the fool to believe his claims of having changed.

Sins of the Past

The party was worse than she imagined. (Y/N) told herself she had tried. She had tried to smile and she had tried to ignore the looks and whispers. She even tried to ignore that her cousin, Isabella was there; ignore when she brought up specific moments that were an attempt to embarrass her.

She ignored it all because these people were Johnny’s family and friends and she owed him this much. So she tried to keep herself scarce and waited for the moment it would be appropriate to ask him to leave. She had also decided to just not bring today up after it was over. There was no point anyway.

This is how she had lulled herself in her own mind, monitoring the windows for the sunset.

“(Y/N) you haven’t said a word all evening.” A voice chimed up, one of Johnny’s friends from university.

(Y/N) turned, ready with her excuse of being tired.

“That’s her seventh glass, after all.” Her cousin chimed in, biting her lip like she somehow hadn’t been waiting all evening to bring it up.

(Y/N) felt her resolve snap, “I’ve just never been the type to invite myself to conversations I’m not a part of.” Only as she reached halfway through her sentence did sense catch on.

“And yet you’re here.” Her cousin scoffed, ignoring the shove the person beside her gave her.

She let the words crash over her, trying her best to brush it off. Yet, despite those words, it was a silence that rang louder. Johnny’s silence.

“At least I was invited out of love and not obligation.” She shot back, letting her day’s indignation ferment into the venom that dripped from her tongue.

“Ironic because that love is also an obligation. You would know if you had the capacity for either.”

“How would you know what love is?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Her cousin laughed, “Truly, I would never understand your idea of love. At least you got a pretty necklace out of it though.” She raised her glass to (Y/N), “My mother did always say that you were as oppurtunistic as your mother.”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t want me to speak.” (Y/N)’s voice came out so low that she surprised herself. Her whole body shook from the impossible weight of her anger.

More silence. This time she turned to Johnny. A part of her hoped that if he wouldn’t defend her, then he would at least walk out. But Johnny only sat in the sofa across the room, eyes on the floor and furrowed in it’s signature unreadable way.

(Y/N) turned back to the bar she was sitting against, reaching over to pull the closest bottle towards her. “Eight is my lucky number.” She said loud enough for both Johnny and her cousin to hear. Once full to her heart’s content, she picked up her glass along with the leftover pieces of her dignity and held both tightly in her fist. Before she could tilt her glass to her lips, a hand landed on hers.

“No more, (Y/N).” Johnny warned, voice wavering with anger. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you angry about?” She asked, laughing again as she said the words out loud, finding the situation ridiculous. Still she realised that she said it louder than intended, probably sounding like the drunk she was painted to be.

“Just put the glass down, (Y/N).” He told her, despite having a death grip on her wrist that controlled all her movement.

“You’re causing a scene, Johnny.” She said the words that Johnny has used on her cyclically before.

“Get up.” He wasn’t asking. She listened because she didn’t want to drag on the public spectacle. As Johnny dragged her across the room, she couldn’t help glance at her cousin. Her eyes were on Johnny’s hand on her arm and (Y/N) bottled the small victory up.

“Let me go.” She said when she realised that he wasn’t walking towards the door, “I just want to go home.”

“First we need to apologise to Rin.” He spoke with his jaw set tight, like she was to be blamed. She couldn’t even tell if she was, not with everyone staring at her the way they did. She hated this place with every fibre of her being. 

Johnny stopped in front of Rin, letting out a trembling sigh that held back all of his anger. “I’m sorry for all of this.” Johnny said so sincerely that (Y/N) wanted to scream. He was apologising on her behalf and she had nothing to be apologetic for.

“I don’t understand why you try so hard with her?” Rin spoke like (Y/N) wasn’t standing right in front of her. “She ruined you from the inside out and you just fell for the same lies again. The only thing that’s changed since the last time is that she can’t fall back on her father. Or his money.” Rin hissed, the words dragging down (Y/N)’s back like nails on a chalkboard.

As calmly as she could, (Y/N) pulled her arm out of Johnny’s. She knew that leaving wasn’t going to help because Johnny would follow her and blame her for it. So instead she turned to the open balcony behind Rin, walking in and closing the door behind her.

She stood there, the wind whistling in her ear like it was wincing at her circumstance. She had given up trying to wipe her tears away because it only made her skin sting. She stood there and told herself that, if nothing else, she was at least sure she had made the right decision all those years ago.

"Come back inside." His order announced his arrival after a very long time. (Y/N) wiped her eyes, lowering her chin so her hair would hide her face. She didn't dignify the words with an answer, continuing to look out at the city below her.

"(Y/N)." He warned, "Everybody will wonder where you are."

"No they won't." Her jaw slid over the other, teeth grinding down. "They know why I am not inside. So just go back to your party, Johnny. Otherwise they'll wonder where you are."

He sighed, a sound of rustling following that was clearly him running his hands through his hair. "Look I'm sure she didn't mean to sound so–"

"Hostile?" She turned, tongue and gaze both sharp as a knife. "What else did she intend to sound like when she called me an opportunistic slut? A fucking gold digger?"

"She didn't say that." He put his hands into his pockets.

(Y/N) gave him an incredulous face, his dismissal stinging more than anything anybody inside was capable of.

"Go inside, John. I don't want to fight with you right now. They'll blame me for your bad mood."

"God damn it!" Johnny kicked something, the sound of shattering following after. She turned with wide eyes to see a flower pot lying in pieces on the floor on a pile of soil. "I just wanted one good day. Just a relaxed day where I can spend time with what remains of my family and the woman I love. Why are you doing this?"

"I am not." She looked up at him, words interrupted by a belligerent breath. "What have I done?" She asked, confused and hurt. "My cousin said so many things. I just listened. You said nothing in my defense and I still just stood there, I took it all. Even when Rin said those things. I just stood there. What else do you want me to do?"

"Just come inside."

"I don't want to! Why do I have to go back? So they can whisper as I walk by again? So they can pat themselves on the back after they confirm that I have no shame? No sense of self respect?” She took a step closer as Johnny stumbled back, “You told me to come back to this city with you. You promised me that it would just be the award. You broke that promise. Then you told me to help you buy something for your cousin I agreed. You didn't tell me they would be there too. You sabotaged me and I stayed silent. You said yes to this and I did not protest. Your cousin said whatever she wished. You did not defend me and I still did not so much as make a sound. You failed me and you didn’t bother protecting me, the women you love. What more do you want from me?” She questioned, tears blurring her vision. 

She furiously wiped at her face, the back of her hand dragging the skin till her face felt raw again.

“You’re hurting yourself.” He said gently. It grated her more than anything so far. What good was his concern now?

"Why didn't you defend me?" She cut him off. "You keep talking about what this means to you." She pointed between them. "So what? You will drag down heaven to earth for me but you can't stand up for me?" She pointed out what he said to her.

Johnny furrowed his brows, "What was I supposed to say?"

"You were supposed to tell her to shut up! You were supposed to remind her that I am the person who you claim to love. You were supposed to say that you wanted me back. The least you could have done was said you wanted me here, Johnny. You should have said something.” She groaned, turning away from him. The reiteration of the betrayal brought a fresh assault of tears. She felt so weak and vulnerable begging in front of him. And Johnny looked bemused.

"So what?” Johnny said calmly,” You don't want to be together?" 

“Don't twist my words.” She warned him.

"Twist?" Johnny's brows creased, "It's what you just said!" He shoved his hand in the space between them, raising his voice.

"You’re shouting. Don't start a fight." She stepped back from him, feeling like she was being cornered into this confrontation.

"I'm not the one trying to start a fight." He countered.

"All I did was step out of a room where I am not wanted. To let out the tears I could not inside. I didn’t leave because I know you want to meet your friends and family, so I am here and I just want to be left along."

"You left because it shows everyone inside how wrapped around your finger I am. Because you know I would follow you in here immediately." Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her over his nose.

"Excuse me?” She said so loudly that a pigeon on the balcony across rushed to take flight. "First your cousin assumes she knows what I'm thinking, now you do the same. Does manipulation run in the family?"

"I don't understand how you can be so mad when she's right.” Johnny’s voice turned cold, his eyes cruel, “They're all justified, you know? You did do the things she said. You did ruin me from inside out."

"Then why are we here?" She screamed, her resolve slipping. She grabbed it before it disappeared completely, bringing her voice back down. "If your family are still angry about what happened, if you’re angry, then what are we doing? And before you say anything." She raised her hand to stop him from interrupting. "You are allowed to be as angry as you want. I hurt you so much and I understand that you can’t just forget that. I deserve your anger. What I don’t deserve is you treating me like this. And you don’t deserve to be with someone who makes you so miserable. If you're this angry then you simply cannot love me.”

"Now you're the one reading my mind." He spoke, immediately recoiling into his indignation.

“Don’t deflect!” She snapped. “You're lying to yourself if you think you do. Because that amount of hostility borders on disgust. You hate me so much that you will stand aside while someone insults me like that. For something you did, Johnny!" Her eyes welled up again and she had to turn away.

(Y/N) hated that after a certain threshold, her anger always gave way to tears. She hated it because, on more than one occasion, Johnny had accused her of using her tears to win arguments. She hated the accusation because she had never intended to win any arguments with him, she knew it was impossible. All she wanted was to explain her side of it.

“What did I do?” Johnny frowned, taking a step closer to invade her personal space.

“Why didn’t you tell them that you got the jewllery yourself? Did I ask you for it? Why didn’t you tell them that I told you I didn’t want it? Why didn’t you tell them what you told me?” She shoved him away, discomfitted by being this close to his overbearing presence. Johnny had the dreadful habit of towering close to her during arguments.

After a long moment of saying nothing, of just staring her down, Johnny sighed. “I just don’t want us to fight.” He came closer to her in an attempt to touch her.

His words made her see red in a way that felt dangerous. She shoved him again, harder than she expected. He must not have expected it either, because surprise filled his eyes as he lost his balance. There was an unmistakable sound of flower pots shattering, but (Y/N) was already shoving the balcony door open. She froze, turning to look back at him.

"Are you hurt?" She stepped towards him. But Johnny stood up immediately and walked around her, talking quick strides towards the door without once looking back.

She burned from head to toe, a mix of anger and mortification. He left before her, leaving her to walk out by herself. With a hesitant gait, she walked across the now crowded foyer. They all looked away, pretending they hadn’t witnessed the quarrel from the other side of the glass doors. But the side glances confirmed her suspicions. They blamed her. They saw her outburst, and saw her push him to the ground. What they didn’t hear was the actual words. But she doubted that would make a difference.

[nkn0va]

THE 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL

The homie @devfps found a thing for me. As a Seth main myself, I am now morally obligated to write the first ever genderbend Under Night x reader piece. And also I figured it was about time Under Night took a spotlight for once since it's mostly Blazblue. What better way to do that than write a very special oneshot for my main in this game as a little love letter of sorts to the most underrated fighting game on the market.

Also I know some of you might've been expecting an event of some kind but my inbox is way too full for that right now lmao

Also don't be surprised if shadow edits are made to make it better at any point in the future (In trying to find the source of the art, the artists' account has unfortunately been deleted/banned. It was found in a FB group reposting it. https://www.facebook.com/share/p/SLBCyMmzbFvTqtaZ/?mibextid=qi2Omg)

(After all my 5 minutes of research, turns out the name Sethe exists, and is a girl name, so that makes my job a hell of a lot easier)

A soft, quiet sigh escaped her pale lips as the sound of the bell rang throughout the school. It was just one of those days, the ones that felt never-ending. Exams drawing near, projects piling up, all with winter fast approaching. As if the cold season put the world itself into stasis, freezing time down to a shivering cold crawl. Well, there was nothing she could do about it. No point in complaining to the world itself, not when it had a history of never paying attention to her silent pleas for help, it's uncaring apathy as cold as the air that blew this time of year.

Steel grey eyes peered out the window next to her desk as she stood up. It was already the first snow of the season. It definitely came far earlier than last year. At least she was prepared for such a possibility.

Sethe had come with a plain black sweater vest in place of her school uniform, just in case. She blended in enough with the crowd to avoid the teachers and not get chewed out for it. If the snow hadn't come, it was easy enough to go into the bathroom and change out of it. As she left the classroom and made her way out into the hall she reached into her bag and pulled out a long, blue scarf. A bit too long for her comparatively small, thin body, yes, but it got the job done, so no reason to complain about it.

At least that's what she thought.

The snow had already started to gather on and cover the ground, albeit not much. It had apparently been snowing quite a bit since lunch, it was already a good couple inches deep. Sethe made her way outside and immediately made for her way home, she had nothing else to do in this annoyance of an obligation, nor did she feel the need to find something. Her absent train of thought was soon interrupted by a sudden, chilling gust of wind that chilled her to the bone. Her arms instinctively wrapped around herself as she grit her teeth.

She stopped in place momentarily to recollect herself, but just as quickly resumed her walk. The trains were likely going to be packed to hell and back in this weather, it would be more efficient to just walk there, as much of a pain as it was. She didn't get much farther though before a familiar voice called out from behind her.

"Guess even weather like this isn't enough to slow you down, huh?"

Sethe immediately stopped once more, her posture straightening in surprise as her head whipped around, only to see s/o. "Learn to relax a bit, yeah? At least enough for me to catch up."

Her body had now turned a tad more in their direction, the lower part of her face obscured by the scarf. "You're saying that like you almost want me to stay at school for something." Her voice took on it's usual quiet, restrained tone, though without the usual apathy or even defensiveness it had during the occasional instances she talked to her peers. S/o just seemed to have that effect on her, she couldn't bring herself to chase them away if she tried.

"Hey now, I wasn't saying that. Is it really a crime to wanna walk home with my girlfriend, spend some much needed alone time with her?" As the words came out of S/o's mouth, Sethe felt her cheeks heat up slightly, though it was made a tad more noticeable by how pale she was. The thought of being in a relationship...it was never a thought that had occurred to her before, being so focused on the duty that's sworn herself to, to free the Night Blade's princess from her curse. That was at least until she met s/o.

"Well... I never meant to imply that, but..."

She was cut off by an amused chuckle from s/o before she could think of a response. "Come on, you know I'm just messing with you. Let me at least walk you home." They took a few steps to catch up and be at her side as Sethe silently nodded and the two resumed your walk.

It was a relatively long way to where she lived. For a while it was all but completely silent, only broken by the snow crunching with their footsteps. Yet for the both of them, it was a comfortable one. At least it was until another gust of wind sent them both shivering. This was not going to work. It was then Sethe got an idea.

"...Here. Come closer."

"O...k...?" S/o confusedly side stepped towards her, and before they could register what was happening they felt a cloth make it's way around their shoulders and circle back around towards Sethe. The reserved young woman herself though seemed almost more surprised by her own actions than you did. Her face turning noticeably more red.

"There...now we shouldn't at least be as cold like this. Just try not to fall behind." Sethe resumed her walking, s/o guided along by the scarf to follow suit. It wasn't a complete, foolproof way of staying warm amidst the cold, but it was better than nothing. And she'd be lying to herself if she tried saying s/o's body warmth wasn't at least somewhat of a comfort.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she immediately felt the heat start creeping up on her face, this time much more prominent than normal as it finally occurred to her. She had initiated intimacy with s/o. Granted it wasn't exactly much, but this was pretty much the first time she had done so. She looked toward the corner of her eye over to s/o to gauge their reaction. She didn't quite know what she expected, however she still found herself pleasantly surprised.

S/o's shivering had mostly stopped, now walking along with Sethe, seemingly perfectly peaceful and content. Yes, the two were dating, but it hadn't been for all that long yet. She almost couldn't believe it. Her presence seemed to be welcome for s/o, just like their was for her, despite her stoic attitude, how cold she could seem sometimes, just like the unpleasant weather they were being forced to trudge through. Yet her coldness was one that s/o seemed to not care about, not feel any less about her for.

"Sethe? Are you alright?" S/o's voce once again snapped her out of her thoughts, the blushing only intensifying.

"You're getting red. Nothing's wrong, right?"

She shook her head and looked forward once more, attempting to bury her face in the scarf a bit more as much as she could. "No, it's just the cold."

"You're not getting sick, are you? That's kinda the last thing you need right now with how hectic school's starting to get and all."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Sethe's reply didn't really convince s/o. Not the part about not being sick, but rather about the redness on her face. They were well aware intimacy was never her strong suit. However they knew openly teasing her about it was not wise, lest they wanted to ruin the moment. The one she had started for a change, no less. No reason to look a gift horse in the mouth, so they decided to quit while they were ahead.

Their body heat combined in the close proximity of the shared scarf as they both adjusted their paces to match the other. Despite the occasional winds that would bite at them, they were able to keep going, now having each other's warmth and support to stay strong. Their shoulders brushed against each other, as their body temperatures mingled and found solace from the biting cold in each other. At some point, s/o's gaze seemed to gravitate over to Sethe as well from the edge of their peripheral vision. They could spot the snowflakes starting to pepper her mostly black hair, protecting her delicate face from the precipitation. The setting sun was shining down on her, contrasting with her dark eyes in a way that seemed to set them ablaze in a subtle, yet genuine show of her natural beauty. S/o seriously couldn't figure out why she seemed to be so ignored by their shared peers, not when she practically stole their breath away in times like this. She seemed content with that however, so it probably wasn't their place to speak on it anyway. Not like they were complaining, to them it meant no one would be trying to hit on her.

The walk felt like it was lasting forever, though to both of them, that would've been far from the worst outcome, even if they didn't say that out loud. They probably didn't even need to in the first place. Unfortunately, it was proven to them once more that good things aren't always meant to last, Sethe's house soon coming into their view. The Night Blade assassin stopped as they came in front of it, making s/o stop to so as not to accidentally push her over.

"Well, here we are." She took back her scarf, gently pulling it off around s/o's shoulders. "The snow's not going away anytime soon. Are you sure you're gonna be fine making it back home?"

S/o gave a disarming wave of their hand. Despite Sethe trying to play it off casually, s/o knew better. There was concern for them deep down. "I can put up with the trains just fine. It'll be a pain right now, but at least I'm not gonna freeze."

Sethe nodded at their response. "Yeah, that might be the best course of action. I just don't want you getting yourself hurt."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she quickly realized what she said. Her face started turning red once more as she averted her gaze staying silent. Despite her instinct to quickly take back what she said, she knew that would only make her sound bad. She froze up, the words dying in her throat as s/o couldn't hold back the smile creeping onto their own face. Both in contentment and reassurance.

"I'll be fine, you can relax. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Despite herself, Sethe could only find herself smiling back. A small one, almost unnoticeable to most people, but a smile nonetheless. A reward for s/o after learning to spot these rare occasions she did.

"Well, tomorrow's a school day. A rather redundant question, no?"

S/o let out a light laugh, genuinely at peace in her presence. "Yeah fair enough. The reassurance still helps though, especially coming from you. I know I can always count on you."

The sudden profession caught Sethe off guard, her eyes widening slightly as they snapped back to s/o. "You...you can?"

S/o nodded, their facial expression making it seem as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course. It's probably the biggest reason I wanted to be with you. Even when we met, you never went back on your word. That kind of honesty isn't something you find every day. That determination is what I always admired about you the most."

Sethe was clearly not used to receiving compliments, no less such genuine ones from someone she cared about. There was no hiding her blush now, despite her trying to bury her face in the scarf and turning her head away. "I...I see..."

She wanted to return the favor. All the reasons she felt the same about s/o threatened to spill out all at once, but were almost painfully stopped by her own inhibition and nervousness. Her instinct telling her that sharing her feelings about them would only make them laugh or become uncomfortable, yet her rational mind telling her that was a stupid fear.

Much to her relief, s/o didn't seem off put by her silence, seeming to read her once again, just like the way they always did. That almost unreasonable amount of patience that could only come from truly caring about another person, the kind that Sethe was a stranger to up until only recently, but eventually one that could only bring the small yet genuine smile back to her face. They understood what she was feeling, and felt no reason to judge her or question her further.

S/o turned off to the side to leave. "You should head inside and warm up. I should be getting to doing the same. See you tomorrow." They raised their hand up in a wave and began to walk back they way they came, heading toward the train station.

Sethe stood where she was a bit longer, watching them as they slowly but surely disappeared into the distance. While they weren't looking, she gave her own small, subtle wave, feeling that strange but familiar warmth in her chest, the one she would only feel when around S/o.

That feeling welling up in her body, the one she only felt for S/o; that was what made her sure she was truly in love.

[whyceasefirefaq]

UPDATE: The United Nations passed a ceasefire resolution! However, It's incredibly temporary. So, on that note, here's 7 Things I've Learned While Doing Solo Outreach In Solidarity With A Ceasefire And Palestine because while that is progress, we are not there yet. The end goal is justice & there is much more work to be done. Since I finished setting up this outreach site, I've gone out and tried my hand at solo outreach three times. It's been a process and a lot of learning along the way. That said, these tips also work for small groups as well.

Related: It's important to know your rights. Laws can vary per state when it comes to protests. Know yours before you do outreach. 1.) Give yourself time and patience to find your groove. Things that may work with a larger group, may not necessarily work when you're doing outreach by yourself. I've found I just need to try things & see. It can feel a bit messy at first, but if you are aware and open to change, you will eventually find your groove. And once you do, doing solo outreach is a lot easier.

2.) It's okay if you feel self-conscious while doing solo outreach. I still feel that way at times when I begin doing outreach, but I find this phrase helps me get out of my head & into the zone. "There's a genocide happening. We all must take as much action as we can. This isn't about you." Deep breath. Okay. Let's do this. Another thing I think about is the Nazi holocaust (a genocide where a number of people in my family were killed.) And I think what would I have done during that time? While not the exact same thing, this is a genocide. Now is your time to do something, to be that person, and when I focus on that, that feeling is bigger than any self-conscious feelings that I might have.

3.) Find your local go-to outreach locations. Locations that are great for protests and group outreach are not necessarily the best for solo outreach.

For example, I recently stood on the corner by a small bodega (local store) and a college, which worked well. If I was in a group, that corner would've been too crowded.

Ideally, a good location will have a nice flow but not be overly packed with people. Also, the area shouldn't be where people are too much in a rush.

I initially tried doing outreach in midtown (New York City) during people's lunch breaks. Didn't plan it that way, but I had an eye doctor appointment in the area, got there too early and so while waiting outside, (my sign was in my bag), I thought "Well, let's give this a go." While some people were giving me signs of approval, they were too busy to stop and engage. Also, the area should not be too loud. Once I tried a spot where almost every time I tried to talk to people, a truck went by semi-drowning me out. but on a related note...

4.) Don't just hold up the sign and wait for people to take action. When I did this, I got plenty of thumbs up, but no one scanned the QR code on the outreach sign to fill out the petition. It wasn't until I started saying variations of "Take action for a ceasefire" that people started to engage. 5.) Keep the tone friendly/approachable. Yes, this genocide (like all genocides) is horrific and time-sensitive, but I've found if your tone is too stressed out, urgent, and/or outright chanting (as one might do in a group at a protest) it can turn people away. If you're chanting in a group, it's unity. People understand that. If you're chanting by yourself, you're just a random person on a street corner talking too loudly. That said, it also depends on how loud your location is. Go accordingly.

6.) Do self-care in-between outreach so you don't get burned out. Do not joy or rest shame yourself. We must be proactive in taking care of ourselves in these times, and to do so is not selfish. Imposing unnecessary suffering on yourself does not help the Palestinians or the cause.

While doing outreach I have gotten more positive responses than negative ones, but a couple times I have been called various and not very complimentary names. And I can kind of laugh at that now while typing this, but sometimes when I'm tired, it bothers me more than it would and I find my brain is focusing on the few negative reactions instead of the many positive ones.

When this happens, I know I need to do self-care and feed my soul. This is not only important for my emotional well-being, but it also allows me to do more effective outreach. There is a difference between taking action and taking effective action and it's easier to know the difference when you're not emotionally drained.

Sometimes you're going to take action and it's not going to be this big thing that goes viral, but that doesn't mean it's not making a difference. When I am burned out, I often feel impatient, and frustrated and even wonder what is the point? But when I care for myself, I am then in a place to remember that every action ripples, and when part of a collective effort (which this is), it can most definitely make big waves. So far 12 people scanned the QR code on the sign and that's 12 more than before.

7.) Never forget that everyone has something to contribute and remembering that can lead to new ways of participation.

I came across this lovely human who wanted to take action in solidarity but didn't have a cellphone to scan the QR code on the outreach sign. I asked him if he wouldn't mind having his photo taken with said sign, to be shared on social media, and he said yes.

And that's when I started taking photos of people, including those who could scan the QR code but wanted to do more.

The reason why this is useful is that when the photo is shared on social media, it's now one more image that's getting the word out, encouraging people to scan the QR code (which leads to the petition & thus take action.)

People can also take their own photo with the sign and post that on their social media, thus further getting the word out. This can be done digitally as well. (Tag me on Instagram, Twitter, Bluesky, and/or TikTok @ rebelwheelsnyc if you do.)

That said, I don't ask everyone I engage with if I can take their photo. You have to take it on a case-by-case basis. If a person is scanning the QR code but is giving off vibes that they are in a rush, I don't ask. But if they are casually chatting with me while filling out the petition, asking questions about the project, etc then I do.

GET INVOLVED! For further tips, free outreach graphics, a FAQ & more, kindly check out: WhyCeasefireFAQ.Tumblr.Com

Thank you to everyone who has supported this project via sharing, getting involved, and sending kind words. It was created with a lot of heart and solidarity, and I greatly appreciate people showing the project some love. [image description: There are four images at the top of the article, two in each row. Upper left: a bald man with a mustache and brown skin is wearing a black winter coat, smiling at the camera while holding up the outreach sign. Upper right: a thin-framed person with light skin and black hair that's slightly wavy and a thin mustache, is wearing artsy sunglasses a black winter coat a gray scarf, and is holding up the outreach sign. Bottom left: a petite senior woman is wearing an olive green winter coat, a beige scarf, and a black hat. She has small sunglasses and is holding up the outreach sign. Lastly, bottom right: a bald man with brown skin and a hint of a mustache and goatee, is wearing a black winter coat and is looking right at the camera while holding up the outreach sign. the outreach sign in question is as follows: Rectangle graphic. Black & white except for a watermelon illustration which is green, white, red, and black aka the colors of the Palestinian flag. Graphic is divided into three sections by thick black lines. Section 1: The text reads“Ceasefire now! “Stop the genocide in Palestine” “Sign the petition:” Section 2: “URL if not now movement .org / our - campaigns.” “Or scan code with your phone” “Jewish-led. Allies are welcome.” Section 3: “Questions? Concerns? Why ceasefire FAQ. tumblr. com.” Main font is a bold thick font except for “sign of petition” which is in a script font. Next to “scan code with your phone” is a QR code which is a bunch of random black shapes with a white background. “Ceasefire now” is the only text that is white with a black horizontal rectangle behind it. All other text is black on a white background. The text “sign the petition has a white rounded rectangle” behind it with a thin black border.]

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

hey could you please do something for poly helnik and a grisha healer reader who has chronic pain and is having a bad day? (romantic relationship if your okay with it, nina and reader grew up together in the little palace)

As someone who is chronically ill and currently having a bad time with their flare up, this request couldnt be better timed, I need this

Bedside Manner Isn't My Strong Suit, But I'll Try For You - Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar

Content Warnings: Poly!Helnik x Chronically Ill Healer Reader. Discussions Of Illness, Poor Health. This One Became Rather Self Indulgent And I Will Not Apologize For That. Probably Explicit Language Knowing What I Am Like. Not Beta/Proof Read.

It was the wince that gave you away, you really didn't mean to. The thing about being chronically ill, is that you are so used to what would normally be crippling amounts of pain for other people, that you start to drown out a lot of pain signals. When you are in pain every moment, pain becomes normal to you, it doesn't make it hurt less, but you can live with a lot of pain and discomfort if you have no other choice. And after a while you can become numb to your bodies warning signals, especially when you don't want to acknowledge it. So when you move and the jolt of pain is so noticeable, even by your own pain standards, even on top of all the daily pain that you've been long saddled with, you wince. And Nina doesn't miss a beat.

"Sit down," she says almost a little too fiercely, but her eyes are so filled with concern that you could forgive her any tone right now.

"Love, it's nothing," you try. But the pain swells around in your nerves and you lose your sight for a moment and before you can really argue your case anymore, Nina is helping you back into a sitting position.

"You've been doing too much," she tells you, her voice melodic and soothing as she pulls a blanket up from the bed and wraps it over the two of you. She learned long ago it's much easier to get you to let others care for you, if that care isn't distancing. So she curls up on the soft seat with you, and lets the blanket fall over her own shoulders.

"I've been doing as much as I normally do," you argue. Nina gives you a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

"And sometimes the limit is different," she reminds you, "you and I both know that." You learned in the early years of knowing Nina, training side by side at The Little Palace, that it was no easy task to pull the wool over her eyes. She learned your tells and your mannerisms as closely as she knew how, and most days she was able to read your needs better than you. It didn't help you were prone to ignoring yours. You had argued over and over, that this world wasn't forgiving to those who let themselves fall behind, but Nina wouldn't have it, not then, not when you were just kids, and certainly not now.

"I do not want to waste the day," you try, but she shushes you with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Are you saying a day cosied up with me is a day wasted?" she quips. You give her a playful glare but she does not let up.

"No moment spent with you could ever be wasted," you tell her.

"Good, then we are not wasting a day, I am looking after you, and you are letting me," she tells you. You'd never had it in your heart to deny Nina anything, why would you start now?

You had often thought it a bitter irony that you were born a healer, that you had the ability to help others, take their pain away, ease their suffering, when you were bound to suffering yourself, with no way to help yourself. But you'd given up trying to reason with the saints about it years ago. It was a pointless and one sided argument, so you just decided it was better to focus on what you could. So you focused on your life, on Nina, on Matthias, on what you could control.

"You do not want to spend the day curled up with me," you realise how it sounds at it leaves your mouth but you don't let it deter you, "you have more interesting things to be doing, Nina, I am fine-,"

"I love you," she says.

"I know-,"

"I love you," she repeats.

"Nina," you sigh.

"I love you," she says again. She will say it over and over until you relent, she does not want to dismiss your feelings anymore than she wishes to hurt them, but she will not argue with you about taking care of you. She will not argue with you over what she is willing and wanting to do. She will not argue with you over this.

"I love you," you say in return.

"Even when I am injured," she says.

"Nina..." you try.

"Even when I am injured?" she asks.

"Even when you're injured," you tell her.

"Even when I am tired?" she asks.

"Even when you're tired."

"Even when I am grumpy?"

"Even when your hungry," you reply. Nina gives you a gentle jab in the shoulder, but she is smiling.

"I said grumpy," she says. You blink at her, faking confusion.

"That's the same word darling," you tell her. She leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"So why is it so hard to understand that I love you, and I want to be here with you?" she asks.

"I know you love me," you tell her, it may have taken convincing, it may take reminding, but after enough time she has managed to get that idea stuck inside your head in a way that it won't easily worm out. "I just mean there must be things you'd rather be doing than taking care of me."

"Not a one," she tells you, pulling you in to hold you closer. "Not a single one."

You're both half asleep when Matthias comes back. Your head resting on Nina's shoulder as she subconsciously draws loops across your skin with her fingers, trying her best to ease the pain she knows you're feeling. It barely touches the edges, but you feel it, and you know it is from love that she tries despite the futility, and you take a type of comfort in that. "Matthias," your voice comes out as a whisper.

"Been too strong today?" Matthias asks, knowing very well this trap of Nina's, the hug and blanket that is more of a mandatory bedrest than a subtle attempt to get you to rest.

"You wince one time," you say. If you're honest, if you're really honest, you feel bad, you feel all types of bad, your body feels brittle, every nerves either burns or aches and the throbbing pain won't go away, but you try to drown it out. It's nothing you've not felt before, and you will likely feel again.

Matthias leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, and then one to Nina's. "Rest," he tells you, a little gruff but his lips twitching into a smile.

"How am I supposed to sleep when my bones feel like they're snapping under the pressure of my skin?" you ask honestly.

"With a warm drink and a kiss?" he offers. You smile, it doesn't fix you, nothing can unburden the pain set deep in your bones, but they've never once tried to fix you. They've just sat with you in the storm, and waited it out with you. They never once tried to fix you, they just loved you anyway. They love you not in spite of but regardless. They cannot take the pain away, but being around them brings you a peace you had never known before and you never dreamed of having, and that is more than enough.

"I like the sound of that," you tell him. He smiles.

"Then that is exactly what you shall get."