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craftycheetah · 3 years ago

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Sour Taste Turned Sweet

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3 years ago…

“Babe! I’m home!” Y/N happily shouts as she opens the door.

Silence greeted her, filling her ears as she came inside and set the groceries down onto the sleek marble counter.

“Babe?” She shouted once again, wandering around the house as she looked for the one she called her lover.

Abruptly, hands went over Y/N’s ears, covering her sensitive ear canals as she crouched onto the ground.

A scream ripped through the silence, tearing away all of Y/N’s joy with it. What the hell was that? Y/N continued to cover her ears as the screams turned into words. Sentences falling out of a person’s mouth and being spoken to another human being. Which human being, she had no idea. But holy hell, did they sound mad.

The voice was feminine, although it was hard to tell over all the screaming. Suddenly, there was a pounding of a person angrily coming down the stairs. Following behind the footsteps were quicker, lighter steps.

“Baby, let’s talk about this!”

Wait- what? Did she stumble into the wrong home?

“No, you… two-timing bastard!!”

Suddenly, she could make out the feminine figure at the bottom of the staircase, and trailing behind her is…

“I’m not gonna repeat myself, Akhi! I want nothing to do with you anymore! You have a girlfriend?!”

Y/N got out of her crouching position, standing up on shaky legs. She quietly tip-toed to a corner, her body shaking with every step.

”No! I’m not gonna debate about this. You were having an affair with me. While you had a girlfriend?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That is so low. Even for you!”

“Fuck my girlfriend! She’s a nobody. I want you to be in my life.”

“Bullshit! Where’s this chick now anyways, huh? I want to meet her!”

“What? Why?”

“So I can tell her how much of a piece of shit you are!”

She felt now was a good time to reveal herself. Wanting to meet this chick as well and know who she is.

“Um…” Y/N rounded the corner and came into the space they were in. “What’s going on?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Akhi’s girlfriend...who are you?” “I’m sorry. Akhi’s been cheating on you for about five months now. He’s a bastard, and you should dump his sorry ass before it’s too late. Also, I recognized you from your channel. Your food looks so good!” “Oh, um, thank you, but you said he’s been cheating on me?” Turning towards her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, she fights the rising anger and tears building within. “Akhi, why? How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?””

“Oh, please!” He snapped, hands retreating into the pockets of his hoodie as he brought his face closer to hers. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re pathetic! Look at yourself, you think I’d ever been satisfied with you?”

“But— but I… I loved you!” Sadness was quickly transforming into despair.

“Well, guess what! It was worth nothing. Just. like. You!”

“Jesus Christ, is that really how you talk to women?!” The blonde snapped at the man.

“Of course not, baby. I would never treat you like that. You know I love you.” He grabbed her palms, wrapping her soft little ones into his calloused larger ones. He pressed his lips to her hands, bringing her balled fists close to his face.

Y/N felt physically ill. She couldn’t watch as the love of her life was having an affair with… with some random girl she didn’t even know! Maybe it was better that way, that way she wouldn’t get hurt. Well… that’s not entirely fair. She’s still hurt, perhaps even worse now that Akhi thought it was acceptable to cheat on her with complete strangers. How did these two even meet? What’s going to happen now? Holy shit, was she going to have to kick Akhi out?! Or even worse—

BAM!

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted as the blonde's hand made a harsh connection with Akhi’s face. Y/N was so lost in her thoughts at the time she didn’t see the girl rip her hands out of Akhi’s and exhale a disgusted noise.

“You’re sick!” She turned on her heel and gestured for y/n to follow her. “Y/N! Come! Now!”

“Uh… what?” Her jaw sank to the floor.

“You heard me!”

Not wanting to anger the woman further, she followed the woman out the door, leaving a flabbergasted and angry Akhi behind. Just for good measure, Y/N slammed the door.

The two girls silently walked down the walkway to a red convertible, the screams of Akhi becoming muffled through the closed door.

“Oh uh, I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier, but what’s your name?”

“The name’s Pony Tsunotori! Nice to make your acquaintance!”

“Y/N? Y/N!” a voice calls out, bringing her back to the present.

“Hmm? Oh, hey Pony, were you asking me something? I’m sorry I zoned out for a moment.”

“I was gonna ask whether you wanted to go get some apple chicken curry or we could go to that bakery you like so much. But you look upset. What’s wrong? Were you thinking about him again?”

Life was crazy like that. She never expected that the person that her ex was cheating on her with would become one of her closest friends.

“Yeah, I dunno why? It just came up.” “Don’t think about that dirtbag? Is he still bothering you? It’s been three years since you broke up and kicked him out. Fucking dirtbag…”

Smiling at her, (Y/N) is filled with happiness knowing she has such a good friend, despite the circumstances that they met under. “I just realized I have a lot of editing to do! Oh my! Before I go, I forgot that I made this for you,” she stammers. Taking out two small boxes from her bag, she hands them over to her friend and giggles at her reaction when she sees the apple salad and invisible apple cake. “I know how much you love apples, so I made this. Do you like it?”

Pony looks down at the food and stands up, making her way over to (Y/N). “This looks and smells SO good (Y/N)! I can’t wait for your next video!” she squeals, hugging you.

“You can be in it if you want to. I don’t mind having a guest. Besides, you can help me, and it could be an apple-themed video! But I do have one condition!”

“Anything!” “You help me buy groceries after work for the week we shoot the video.” “Deal!”

Hearing her phone go off, she checks it as she leaves the park with her friend. Her stomach flutters as she sees the notification. “It was fun hanging out with you today, Pony, but I gotta go! Same time next week?”

“Of course! Bye (Y/N)!”

“I’ll call you!”

She walked happily towards her convertible, a pep in her step as she made her way towards the vehicle, looking at her phone. She hummed quietly to herself, a tune she used to listen to quite often back in high school.

Plop!

In almost an instant, she was on the floor, her purse right beside her as she landed on the cold surface of the concrete. Her hands turned into fists as her bum made contact with the floor, hoping that curling her hands would take away some of the embarrassment. It was clear she bumped into someone, but the question is… who?

“Ouch!”

“Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

In an instant, muscular arms were helping you up. You scanned the man apologizing profusely up and down. Standing before you was a hunk of a man, rock-hard chest, chiseled abs, and what you noted most importantly was that his shirt was off. Sweat made his pecs shine with moisture.

Wow, this dude is hot!

“Urgh… you’re okay! I’m good!” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry, dude, I didn’t even see you coming!”

(E/C) hues meet with carmine ones. She thought they were beautiful, they reminded her of fresh strawberries from the most organic farm on the planet, the fruit rich in color and flavor. Her eyes trailed higher to his hair. His hair was the same color and styled in a spike-like fashion. Y/N thought it was pretty cool, to be honest. His voice was as smooth as butter and as sweet as honey. She’s never seen a man like the one in front of her before.

“It’s fine! I’m fine! Are you okay? I hit you pretty hard.”

“I can take a hit, no worries. But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay! As long as you’re good. Sorry again for the trouble.”

“No worries, dude! Cya around!”

She waved at the stranger, admiring his other features as he jogged away.

‘He was cute….’ she thinks, making her way to her car to answer the DM she got.

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royal-wren · 3 years ago

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I find Hermes in every sport, in every walk/jog/run I take. I find him in every trophy or award I’ve ever won for a competition/contest. I find him in the gym, on every track, every path worn into the earth and paved by us. Every moment of exertion, pushing the bar as one gets stronger and gains more endurance.

I find Hermes in libraries, every archive, every place where information is stored. I find him in the books that pass on knowledge, anything written down for another person to get their hands on and digest either in one sitting or multiple. I find him in every story told either by word of mouth or published. I find him roaming libraries and bookstores through the fiction and nonfiction, just another person browsing. I find him in the inspirations that fuel all our dreams, every career or passion we have that fills our life and makes it all worthwhile.

I find him with every receptionist in any office (both misc. businesses and at the doctors). Every bank and call center known to him like the back of his hand. I find him in every ambulance and E.R. where those that need immediate help can get it, the chance to save a life and help those badly injured without any time to wait. He’s in hospitals, in the rooms where people say goodbye to loved ones -- where they stay in those last moments to save it to memory. In mourning and comfort for those left behind and those who are passing on satisfied and cared for. Hermes is there in every pharmacy, every place prescriptions are filled, with every psychiatrist, psychologist, and therapist and with those that are mentally ill/disabled. All in his care, out in the world during day to day life or moments where the psych ward/hospital are necessary.

He can be found where games are played, any meal to indulge in --- any table to sit at home or in public. He’s there where slight of hand is performed, any stage with a magician that stuns us and leaves us impressed. He’s there for every joke that makes us laugh, with every comedian with all eyes on them as they give us their selfless art that has us howling with laughter in the moment and later as an afterthought. Any good time one can have of great fulfillment and joy as the heart soars along with Dionysos and Hestia.

Hermes is there, telling or showing us that everything will be alright. Comfort can be found with a little trust as he takes our hand, doling out security and strength to find joy in life, to meet others and know you’re never alone. With every high and low his hand extends --- free to take or ignore as the choice is yours and yours alone -- and he knows this. I find it in his eyes every day I get the chance to look into those dark depths all too deep. I find him wrapping his arms around me and staying by my side whenever my mental state does a 180 and flips harshly, roughly shaking my day and making me question everything. In all the moments where I have an episode he is there to talk me out of it and soothe everything that makes me tremble from fear and panic as unreality sets in (seeping into every thought).

I find him as a friend, as family, as the random stranger with advice or lending a hand when in need, I find him as my lover. Any relationship one finds him a part of will know the tenderhearted, supportive friend of man with great understanding and a heart all too big to dare hope of covering it all.

#this went places and whew am I just sgjkhdfgfg #hermes #hermes deity #hermes*#hermesdeity #dorian's polytheism diary #I don't know I just felt inspired to do this and it felt necessary for myself

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mitsungo · 3 years ago

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Oh lord help me.

I was just imagining things in my head, when suddenly, I had an urge to write a part two of the first fic I wrote. So, here we are. Except, Akaza is here now.

☆*:.｡. o❄️o .｡.:*☆

It had been over a week since Akaza had killed the flame hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku. Though he succeeded in killing the hashira, his master was deeply, upset with him for not finding anything about the flower that he was sent to search for. It frustrated Akaza that he had failed his mission in someway. As he recalled his battle with Kyojuro, he remembered that he had seen a photo fall out of the hashira’s pocket. Akaza wasn’t able to see much of it, but he did see a glimpse of a woman. He also remembered that as he ran away from the sun, the weakling that had called him a coward say that he had taken Kyojuro from his fiancée.

“So you were going to get married huh?” He quietly spoke to himself in the middle of a forest. Akaza snickered at the thought of Kyojuro’s fiancée hearing the news of her future husband’s death. “If only he had become a demon then he wouldn’t have died. Though I doubt he would control himself from devouring you.” Akaza said, he shut his eyes and pondered wether or not to go and find this fiancée of the man he killed. He was curious about the woman Kyojuro was going to marry for some reason. Sighing, Akaza stood up, finally making his decision. He was going to find that woman, just to satisfy his curiosity.

He didn’t really have much of a lead at first, but as he remembered certain parts of the fight, some of the memories of that night helped him start off with something. There was a certain piece of cloth that Kyojuro clung onto during the fight, it was a beautiful piece too if he was honest, with two cranes, some flowers and a crest. That must have been the family crest of the girl’s family. Now, you may ask, how on earth is that even a clue? Well duh, it’s a crest, someone must know of it, he had to unfortunately go around in his spare time asking random strangers if they knew about the crest. And so far, no one he asked knew about it. Pity.

And so now it was two weeks since he had killed kyojuro, and still no fiancée. Akaza was ready to give up on the task of finding the girl, until he ran into a lowly demon that he happened to cross paths with frequently in a village.

“Oh yes! I know that crest! It belongs to a kimono shop in the village next over to this one! I don’t get so close to the shop itself since the place is littered with Wisteria and I hear the seamstress herself is an extremely talented young beautiful woman who recently lost her fiancé!” The demon said to Akaza. Akaza felt relief about the information for some weird reason. The demon continued, “I’m sure the house of the tailor has the crest on their home so it won’t be hard to find either!” “I see. Thank you. I’ll let you be now then.” And with that, Akaza made his way to where the demon had said.

When he arrived at the village, he decided to eat first before going to find the house of the tailor. Once he found his victim of the night, he asked them about the seamstress and if they knew where she lived. After they told him the information (barley), he proceeded to devour them. Akaza wiped his mouth and stretched, he grinned with delight and made his way to the house of the girl he had been searching for. He arrived at a mansion not far from the forest where he had just eaten, the mansion itself was fairly big and wisteria flowers were hanging from wooded fences at the front of mansion and the main door. Akaza decided to look around first before doing anything else, he made his way to the back of the house and saw that there was a woman standing in the garden of the home. She was breath taking for sure, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, this must be her. The fiancée of Rengoku Kyojuro. Did she know he was the one that killed him? Did they tell her? Guess he’d have to find out himself. He jumped on top of the fence and looked down at her. How come there wasn’t any wisteria flowers here? Akaza had finally made his presence known to the girl as she slowly looked his way, her eyes making contact with his own.

“Who might you be? Are you perhaps a demon? Have you come to eat me? If so, please do it quickly. I’d rather not keep my husband waiting for me in the afterlife.” She told him stoically. Akaza was taken back by her words. “I am not here to eat you. I do not eat women. I just,” he had to think of a good excuse. “…heard from some townsfolk over in the last village that you are an extraordinary talented seamstress. I wanted to see for myself.” The girl looked at him with a small gentle smile, she looked back to where she was looking and said nothing. A minute passed by and she finally spoke again, “I do not make kimonos anymore. I have given up that passion to instead drown myself in pain and tears. I am sorry to disappoint you, but you have come here for nothing.” “Is that so? Why may that be?” He asked, tilting his head. Here it comes. “I recently lost my husband to an illness and he dearly loved when I would craft kimonos. Since he died, I have not made a single kimono.” She smiled softly, her smile beaming like the moonlight. Liar. She lied. Kyojuro didn’t die from illness. “Really? How tragic. And what was his name if I may ask?” The girl hummed, pausing for a second. “Rengoku Kyojuro.” Akaza wanted to giggle at that moment, but he had to resist the urge to do so. Though the part of kyojuro dying from a sickness bothered him, he still felt joy. “What is your name demon?” The girl asked, her head tilting, as if she was mimicking the gesture he had just done a few minutes ago. “Akaza.” “L/n Y/n.” “That’s a beautiful name you have there Y/n.” She didn’t reply, her eyes fixated on his. He was starting to get uncomfortable by the look in her eyes, as if she could see right through him. “You are a tragic as I am. Please. Indulge me with small talk. To relief my pain.” Y/n softly said, walking over to where he was and stretching her hand out for him to take. Akaza felt a vain pop out from irritation. She really creeped him out. “Alright. I will then.” He replied, taking her tiny hand and jumping down from his spot. “Just so I can see you make those beautiful kimonos that they say you make.”

And so now, four weeks have passed since he had killed kyojuro and met Y/n. He had come to take a liking to y/n, she was gentle and patient. She would listen to Akaza and speak very little as she wasn’t a talker. He really enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed his. He had also been able to convince her to start crafting kimonos again, he felt really happy when he would come over and she would be waiting for him, a kimono in her lap, ready to start working on it. Sometimes he would talk and she would do what she did, other times he would just watch in awe as she quickly finished detailed patterns and sceneries. Those were his favorite, when she would sew landscapes of winter or spring, they were just beautiful to look at once she was done. Another thing that had made their relationship closer, wait. Relationship? He didn’t want to admit it, but they had some relationship going on, perhaps on the surface it seemed like comfort for both of them, but the more he thought of it, they had both gotten intimate on the third day he visited. Akaza knew she was just sexually frustrated, who could blame her? So he just let it happen, he was also glad she acted as if those moments didn’t happen but he kinda wished she acted like they did. Still, he was happy to just be with her. No wonder kyojuro loved this woman so much, she was perfect in every way. As his visit was coming to and end, he bid Y/n goodnight and jumped on the fence of the mansion, turning to face her before he left. Y/n waved him goodbye though her eyes widened in shock, tears spilling from her eyes when his last words for the night slipped from his mouth,

“I’ll see you when I come back tomorrow! And then, you, y/n, can show me how to sew such beautiful details in those kimonos you make!”

#demon slayer #fanfic #rengoku kyoujurou #fiction #akaza kimetsu no yaiba #kny kyojuro #akaza x reader

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knjsagustd · 3 years ago

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either side of sunrise | jjk 05

We start smiling at each other again when we part. I’m getting the sense that this may become a theme. Taking moments to revel in the pure joy of whatever this is. After a second Jungkook nods, as though placing a full stop in the moment, and starts leading me down the stairs.

prev | next | series masterlist | playlist

→ idol!Jungkook x actress!OC (Aurora Kim-Wiseman)

→ w/c: 3.7k

→ warnings: as usual; discussions of mental illness

→ a/n: i’m back(ish). i’m in my final year of uni, so work is a bitch and writing is difficult to find time for, but i really love this story and these characters so i managed to write this. i hope you enjoy it 💛💛

I check my make up again before we leave. Digby is a magician (or just uses very good quality stuff) because it doesn’t seem to have really budged. However, I do have to rub my thumb across Jungkook’s lips where there is a shadow of my lipstick painting them a little bit too pink. The way he looks at me as I do it, all tender and sparkly, is something that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. But I really don’t have the time to examine that right now. He gives my hand a little squeeze before we exit the bathroom and go our separate ways.

James is back in his seat when I return. His agent is staring boredly at the stage but he’s got this self-satisfied grin, complete with wiggling eyebrows.

“Your lipstick’s smudged,” he whispers once I’ve retaken my seat.

“No it’s not,” I reply, refusing to give him any reaction. I stay completely straight faced as I continue, “I checked.”

Thankfully the fact we’re in a packed theatre with cameras potentially watching our every move save me from the over reaction that James would normally have to that tidbit.

“Aurora Ha-yoon Kim-Wiseman, are you telling me that you have a reason for your lipstick to be smudged?”

I roll my lips between my teeth, biting back the smile threatening at them, as James leans into my space. He’s wiggling his eyebrows manically at me.

“Would this reason happen to have the initials JJK? Hmm? Hmmmm?”

I roll my eyes before turning to face him. He’s a lot closer than I thought he’d be, he’s barely an inch away from me. I push his face away, my smile cracks through as his head turns and bounces away.

“No, I kissed a random stranger in the bathroom… what do you think?”

I didn’t think it was possible but James’ grin widens. I wait for the shoe to drop - whatever extremely inappropriate thing he’s going to whisper and promptly be met with violence from both me and his agent who is definitely listening - but James just nods. He ducks his head, smiles, and settles back into his chair. I’m tempted to dig at him, find out what’s going on inside his head but I don’t want to push my luck. He’s probably just stocking it for after the ceremony.

The Grammys last around two and half hours after that. I spend the entire time trying not to look around at Jungkook. It’s especially hard because I know BTS are performing but according to the program they’re last. It’s like the organisers were trying to test me specifically. James is nudging me in that obnoxious, highschool, way when they’re introduced. I’m sure that if I look over at him he’ll be grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows and dodging his agent who really deserves a raise. Everytime I watch BTS perform in person is different but it’s always amazing. The energy is always infectious and I can’t help the smile on my face. This time I know when Jungkook looks at me it’s not just a fluke, or the lighting playing tricks on me. I know that when Jimin nudges him as they scatter from the chorus choreo that I’m the joke. In the best way possible. Seeing Jungkook perform is magical. This is natural habitat; in the same way I’m nothing without a script and camera, Jungkook belongs on stage - sharing his gift with the world. To think there's a universe where he may not get to do this is impossible.

Jungkook texts me after the ceremony finishes. I’m just gathering my stuff when I feel my phone buzz in my clutch.

JJK: Backstage, dressing room 4.

I don’t even think before I’m typing out a reply.

Me: coming.

There’s an after party I’m meant to be going to. I know for a fact that BTS won’t be there. They don’t normally go to that sort of thing, especially not outside Korea. But I can be late. Or not go, tell Maia I was feeling sick when she asks why no one is reporting my appearance. Tell James the truth, he’d rather I did this than spend the night looking out for him. I catch him as we stand to leave. He hugs me after I tell him.

“Get it girl,” he whispers to me, so not even his agent can hear. “Don’t do anything I would do.”

I laugh as we part.

“That means far less than you think it does.”

He just nods, a proud smile on his face.

Jungkook is pacing back and forth backstage, flipping his phone in his hands, when I round the corner to the dressing room. Despite the fact that all I want to do is run to him, I walk slowly over. Trying not to draw any attention to us. He stops when he sees me, a puppy dog smile spreading over his face.

“Hey,” he says when I reach him. I see his hand flex as his side.

“Hey.”

For a moment we just stand there looking at each other, smiling. It’s not an awkward silence. Just happy. Being in each other's presence is enough. My heart is doing flips in my chest and I literally can’t stop the smile on my face. I’m an actress, I should be better at controlling my emotions than this. Jungkook looks around, cautiously, for a second before stepping closer to me. He ghosts his hand down my arm before taking me, interlocking our fingers.

“Rory Kim-Wiseman,” he starts, stopping to let out a small, embarrassed, chuckle. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Jeon Jungkook… I would love that.”

With that he tugs my arm, guiding me towards an emergency exit I hadn’t even noticed. It leads out into a stairwell. As soon as we’re through the doors he takes a second to pull me into him. His free hand instantly runs through my hair and draws me into a kiss. I snake my hand up to tangle in the hair at the back of his head. Pressing myself further into him. Kissing him is like drinking cold water after waking up in the night. I never want to stop. We start smiling at each other again when we part. I’m getting the sense that this may become a theme. Taking moments to revel in the pure joy of whatever this is. After a second Jungkook nods, as though placing a full stop in the moment, and starts leading me down the stairs.

They lead down to the Staples centre employee parking, far from prying eyes. Waiting near where we exit is a black car. It’s familiar in that way that this sort of car is familiar to every celebrity. Big, black, with tinted windows. The sort of car I’ve always sat in the back of in LA.

Mark, who has been head of my security team for years, is waiting by the car. Instantly his eyes zone in on mine and Jungkook’s joined hands. It feels like being caught by my dad. Which is not wholly inaccurate given that Mark has been looking after me since Introducing Me.

“You two sneakin’ off,” he says, smirking as he leans against the car. Another man steps out of the driver’s seat, broad and Korean. There’s a fond smile on his face, directed at Jungkook. He tosses a bag to Jungkook.

“You have three hours, we will come too,” he says, sharing a smile with Mark. Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the bag. It’s full of clothes. He hands me a black hoodie. I pull it on quickly, thankful for the warmth it provides. I ignore everyone’s eyes as I pull the hood up around my cheeks, making sweater paws with the sleeves, and breathe in the Jungkook smell ingrained in it.

“I couldn’t get a change of clothes for you, but you seem happy enough,” Mark says with a wink before slinging himself into the front passenger seat. And I’m left standing there with a blush burning across my cheeks. Jungkook has left me to speak in rapid fire Korean with his security guy. But he keeps looking at me. Our eyes meet, with me still pressing his hoodie to my face, and the little smile he sends me makes my heart stutter. Feeling caught, I fumble for the door and tuck myself inside. It’s a bit of a trial considering that I’m still wearing a gown. In front of me Mark is laughing at my antics. I kick his chair in retaliation. He manages to calm himself as Jungkook and his guy take their seats. Before he starts the car Jungkook’s bodyguard twists around, offering me a handshake.

“I am happy to finally meet you, Miss Aurora, Jungkook speaks of you frequently and highly. I am Kang Chi-Hoon.”

Beside me Jungkook groans, sinking into the seat. I shoot a smile towards him before shaking Chi-Hoon’s hand, bowing as deeply as I can given my position. I like the reminder that I’m not alone in this. That Jungkook is just as far down this rabbit hole as I am. Chi-Hoon’s hand is warm but not clammy, comforting in a way. I might be imagining the soft squeeze he gives me before releasing my hand to face the front. It’s accompanied by a smile that reminds me of Mark. Smiles from security people fill me with warmth. They don’t tend to give those out very often - it serves their profession better to seem intimidating and unapproachable. Chi-Hoon’s smile is soft, so natural that I can’t imagine it not being there. And feels like support, a reminder that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

As Chi-Hoon drives, Jungkook's hand slides into mine. It happens so slowly I don’t even realise it is until his thumb is lightly caressing the back of my hand. There’s still an entire seat between us. More space than us entirely necessary in the privacy of the car and it’s tinted windows. Chi-Hoon and Mark are focusing pointedly on the road, fully aware of what they’re enabling. I squeeze Jungkook’s hand lightly, staring out the window. Even as we speed past the landmarks of my wasted years he grounds me. His warm hand and presence remind me that I’m not her anymore. Not a ghost, high on LSD, wondering if waiting for the traffic lights is worth it when there’s a car speeding towards me. Usually Mark avoids taking me this way, favouring main roads to save me from my memories. Chi-Hook doesn’t know to do that. And on a night like tonight - leaving the Grammy after party early with Jungkook beside me - side streets are a necessary evil. They’re a shield against prying eyes as much the tinted windows.

Our first stop is a Taco Bell, the one near Santa Monica Airport. I forget how big LA is. Even at this time it takes almost an hour to get here from the Staples Centre. Granted, taking the I-10 would have been quicker. But then again, I wouldn’t have gotten to spend an hour holding Jungkook’s hand and stealing blush glances at him with no repercussions. It’s hard not to look at him. There’s this ache in my chest that just calls out for the sight of him. I’m not looking forward to when tonight ends. Going back to texts and facetime calls feels impossible after knowing what the real thing is like.

“What’re you wantin’ Jeon?” Mark asks as we pull towards the drive thru window. I roll my eyes at the tone he’s taken, playing the role of intimidating father when mine is not around. He doesn’t ask what I want because I’ve been ordering the same thing on our midnight food adventures since I was twelve. Jungkook, however, clearly was not expecting this and looks like a deer in the headlights. It takes a second - as he works through the translation in his head - before he replies. I smile at his overly polite and respectful attitude towards Mark. Something that Mark is also enjoying. He takes so much joy from how people perceive him as intimidating - which is good for his chosen profession. In reality he is a golden retriever in human form. Or maybe a husky. I give Jungkook’s hand another squeeze. The way his entire demeanour changes in reply brings back that ache.

Once we have our food - and lots of napkins for me because no one wants to chance getting anything on my dress - Chi-Hoon begins driving again. This time the ride only lasts about fifteen minutes. A laugh bubbles out of me as we slow to a stop looking over Venice Beach, towards the bright lights of Santa Monica Pier. There’s still people about. There are always people about in LA. But there are considerably less than usual. All of them too caught up in their own worlds to notice Jungkook and I.

“You have an hour, use it well,” Chi-Hoon says, twisting round to face us again.

“There are blankets in the trunk, Maia will kill me if y’all get sand on that dress.”

Jungkook gets out first, walking around the car to get the blanket from the boot. I shuffle forward so I’m barely in the chair. Wrapping my arms around the chair and Mark, as far as I can reach, I say quietly;

“Thank you.” I punctuate it with a kiss to his cheek. Pulling back I continue, “but you know Maia is already going to kill you for enabling this, right?”

He shrugs.

“Worth it to see that smile.”

I don’t manage to exit the car gracefully. It’s too high up and my skirt too uncooperative. Jungkook gives me a hand, which stops me from falling over. The added factor of heels really doesn’t help. Why Mark couldn’t have at least sourced me a pair of trainers is beyond me. Jungkook doesn’t let go of my hand once I’m situated on solid ground. Instead he chooses to simply adjust the position so we can walk hand in hand. Before we step onto the sand I tug him over to a bench. Using one hand I fumble with the buckle of my heels. I’m not walking on sand in heels if I can help it. I carry them in my free hand as we finally step onto the sand.

We walk slowly; savouring the quiet and relishing the anonymity. It’s easy to pretend right now. To forget that this can’t be our reality. We shake out the blankets a few feet from the water’s edge. The tide is coming in, but we won’t be here long enough for it to touch us. I push aside the lurch in my chest that comes as I envision Jungkook and I’s future in a series of snatched moments. Now is not the time. I can’t plan the ending when we’ve only just begun. Instead I let Jungkook pull me down onto the blanket, situating me in his arms. His fingers begin to play with my hair, brushing out Digby’s carefully crafted curls. I hum, the sensation dissipating all tension from my body.

“What is your favourite colour,” Jungkook asks, in english after a moment.

“Yellow,” I reply easily. Jungkook nods, one of his hands going to play with the dandelion material of my dress. “Like honey yellow. What’s yours”

“Black.”

“That’s not a colour, it’s a shade,” I quip. Jungkook laughs, the pure joy of the sound feels like flying.

“You’re pretentious,” he replies, switching to Korean. I push myself up - immediately missing his warmth - to look at him incredulously.

“Really? I’m the pretentious one? Mr ‘my favourite colour is black’, ‘I only drink black coffee’ ‘I’m good a literally anything I try’?”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook laughs, guiding me back down. “You’re right, I'm the pretentious one.”

“Thank you.”

He smiles down at me, brushing the displaced hair off my face. I think he’s doing the same thing I am. Memorising this moment, so there’s something to hold onto when it's over. I want the image of him, bathed in moonlight and staring, like I’m the only thing in the world worth looking at - etched into the backs of my eyelids. Maybe even my soul. Of it’s own accord my hand comes up to trace his features, mapping his face. If this was a movie this would be one of those endlessly giffed moments. The camera would do a close up. The entire fifty foot screen devoted to the view of my fingers, the rose coloured nail polish and silver rings glinting in the moonlight, dancing over Jungkook’s perfect lips. One of those times in the cinema where you can barely breathe. My fingers glide back, tangling into his hair. Using that I bring him into a short kiss. I’ve been yearning to kiss him again since the bathroom. There’s something addictive about it. Being the person Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want to stop kissing. I let him go, this isn’t the best position for prolonged kissing. His eyes flutter open, a soft smile spreading across his face.

As our stolen hour comes to an end I’m sitting up right, leaning back into Jungkook’s chest. Our hands are intertwined inside the pocket of the hoodie. We’ve spent the last hour alternating between making out, like the make free teenagers we never got to be, and just talking. I never want it to end.

“Do you ever want to run away? Give it all up and just fade into obscurity,” I say, more to the moon than Jungkook. I’m not really looking for an answer. But I feel the vibrations in Jungkook’s chest as he hums his acknowledgement.

“Yeah, I’ll never do it. But I think about it a lot. I’ve got it all planned, have since I was about fifteen.”

“You want to tell me.”

“Okay, but you can’t go stealing it,” I joke, twisting to look at him. He laughs, tucking me closer to him. As I turn my face back to the sea he leans to rest his chin on my head. “There’s this town back home that my family used to spend summers in before I was ‘Aurora Kim-Wiseman, when I was just Rory. My mum used to go there as a kid with her family. It’s this little seaside town called Hopeman, barely more than a chip shop and the caravan park we used to stay in. Well, on the cliffs there’s this house with huge windows on the cliffs that’s been for sale on and off for years. I keep saying the next time it all gets too much I’m going to buy it, do it all up and just disappear. I’ll buy a dog, we’ll go on walks down the beach, and no one will know who I am. Or care.”

Jungkook presses a kiss to my head, mumbling into my hair;

“It sounds nice.”

“It is. The sun sets over the sands and sometimes, in the summer, you can see the northern lights. On clear days you can see across the Moray firth to Sutherland… Do you ever miss just getting to exist?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“But you can’t give it up.”

Not yet.”

“I know - me too,” I sigh, curling deeper into his arms.

I stand up first, holding my hand out to help Jungkook up. He doesn’t actually need help,I’ll just use any excuse to touch him. He’s apparently on the same page; taking this opportunity to steal a quick kiss from me. It becomes a pattern. As we fold the blanket each time we come together is punctuated with a kiss, and laughter at our antics. He draws me in for a deeper kiss after I pick up my shoes. One of those ones that make you feel like melting. That makes the whole world shrink down to just your fingers in their hair, their hand digging into your waist, the feeling of their thumbs skimming your rib cage. Just them.

We walk away slowly. I’m pressed into Jungkook’s side, my arms wrapped around his torso. His arm is slung over my shoulder, tucking me even closer so he can intermittently place absent kisses to my hair.

There are two black cars waiting on the street. This is where we say goodbye this time. I want to throw caution out the window, kiss him one last time under the street lamps. But it’s too risky, anyone could see and it would be both our careers on the line. So we stand a respectable distance apart.

“Best first date ever.” It comes out sadder than I thought it would. All longing mixed with already missing the past.

“I’ll take you on a real one next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Silence lulls over us for a second.

“I want to kiss you goodnight,” Jungkook says.

“Me too, I breathe. I close my eyes for a second and an idea comes to me. It’s from a tv show, I think, I can’t remember which one.

“Close your eyes,” I say, not opening mine. I wait for him to says he’s doing it before continuing, “Right, so, imagine that my hands are on your cheeks as I rise onto my tiptoes bringing you down so I can meet you halfway and kiss you. It’s soft and slow…”

“I’d rest my hands on your waist, pulling you closer because I can’t get enough. We’d draw back, I’d rest my forehead on yours and say something cliche and romantic like ‘I miss you already.’”

I can’t help the smile that drifts onto my face as I open my eyes.

“I miss you too.”

The smile Jungkook gives me is endlessly bittersweet. We part then, me to one car and him to the other. I curl up in the backseat, pulling Jungkook’s hoodie up to cover my head. Nestling into the smell of him mixed with ocean air I can already feel that ache in my chest. I catch Mark looking at me in the mirror.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow, eh?” He winks. In reply I sink lower in the seat, mumbling,

“Refuse to believe you’ve read Romeo and Juliet.”

“Nope, Love the Baz Lurhmann film though,” he replies before pulling away from the kerb.

#bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook fic #fic:esos

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years ago

Text

Ouroboros (S2, E8)

The hiatus almost killed me. So glad we have new content <3

As usual, my time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:04 - That scarf is so extra.

0:26 - OH LOOK THE FIRST SUNSHINE SIGHTING OF SEASON TWO!!! It only took 8 episodes. *insert eyeroll*

0:40 - Ugh. This montage makes me hate Hoxley. He embodies the type of human I abhor: self-important, egotistic, obsessed with appearance.

1:19 - “No I didn’t.” LMAO. Mr. David is so done with Martin’s bullshit.

1:36 - That makeshift shiv in the dude’s arm.....that’s Daryl’s shiv from a few episodes ago right? Am I going crazy?

2:25 - Sooooo Birdie hasn’t left New York? She’s moved into the Milton’s “Murrayville Building”. Huh. Wait. Was Birdie in the house when Malcolm and Ainsley fought? Do you think she heard?!? Birdie might become a problem for the Whitly’s later this season....I hope?

2:43 - Jessica doesn’t know about the contents of the fight. Interesting. How long has it been since the end of 2x7?

2:58 - “I’ll be there at 8.” hahaha OMG. I swear Malcolm was a terror during his ‘rebellious teenager’ phase.

3:38 - Yep. This fog horn reinforces the fact that I believe Hoxley is a dick.

3:40 - Awww.... the way Malcolm jumps/flinches at the fog horn is both hilarious and adorable.

3:58 - “And who the hell are you?” YES GIL. YES. Don’t let him talk like that to Malcolm <3

4:04 - Duuuuude. Gil looks pissed and scared. He does not like Europol snooping around his crimes. ALSO I’m like 95% sure that Gil knows (or at least has a hunch) that Malcolm is somehow involved with Endicott’s murder. I’m pretty sure Gil is scared that this dude is going to try and arrest Malcolm.

4:07 - OMG. JT is adorable. “You’re that guy. The mind sleuth.” Personal headcanon: JT read Hoxley’s book to try and understand Malcolm better.

4:22 - DANI IS MY QUEEN. SHE IS MY ICON. I LOVE HER SO FREAKING MUCH. “No.” This girl is fierce. <3

4:23 - <3 <3 Malcolm’s heart eyes, head tilt, and visible pride is so so so precious. THIS is why he’s attracted to Dani. She’s not afraid to assert herself.

4:31 - “And then took in his son.” ....Okay, so this infuriated me. Nothing Hoxley is saying is untrue. BUT something about the way he’s saying it just gets under my skin.

4:45 - I think Hoxley is pissing me off so much because he’s psychoanalyzing Malcolm in front three of the people Malcolm trusts and loves most in the world (3 out of a very very short list of people). He’s trying to humiliate Malcolm and I hate it. I hate that Dani, JT, and Gil haven’t told Hoxley to shut up. I hate that Hoxley is trying to drive stakes of doubt into the three people whose opinion Malcolm treasures.

5:25 - “Aim a little lower, Whitly.” and and and.....then Hoxley looks to the team as though he wants them to laugh. I’m furious.

5:32 - THANK YOU GIL. STEER THE CONVERSATION AWAY FROM MALCOLM

6:04 - Malcolm is so obvious. There’s no way that the team doesn’t know that he was involved with Endicott’s murder. If they didn’t before this episode - they HAVE to know now. Right? They’re detectives. Malcolm is a terrible liar.

7:00 - Oh. So now Ainsley cares about the crime. Now it’s “how much trouble are we in”. And let’s be real. Ainsley doesn’t even seem very worried or scared. She’s concerned that the crime will get out - she’s not sorry she committed the crime. She’s not sorry that her big brother tried to take the fall for her.

7:15 - “We said no more secrets.” ...when. When did you two say that? Was there a ‘fight part 2 - the tentative truce’ that we didn’t get to see?

7:33 - A mention of Sophie Sanders. Finally. I still hope she comes out of the woodwork and takes the fall for this. I want more closure on her. Did the team ever find out that Malcolm found her? How did the Eddie murder finally get resolved (I’m not satisfied with the “not every case gets solved” line)?

7:42 - Yo. I don’t care about the time constraint of a 45 minute episode. I don’t care that it was required to move the plot along. The fact that Ainsley starts typing frantically into the computer at about 7:42, stops typing at 7:47ish and has found at least 4 different articles relating to murdered random people (who apparently helped hide Endicott’s body?) is SO UNREALISTIC. I just can’t. I can’t suspend my disbelief on this one. The article headlines say nothing about ‘couriers’. It’s stuff like ‘Local fisherman found dead’. HOW THE HELL WOULD AINSLEY KNOW THEY WERE HELPING MALCOLM IN LESS THAN 10 SECONDS OF GOOGLING?!? Nope. I can’t justify this one. Fedak - you dropped the ball.

8:40 - Poor Malcolm looks terrified. :(

9:04 - My first impression of Natalie was that she’s a beautiful young lady who seems really sweet and a little socially awkward. Kudos to the actress.

9:41 - Another mention of Sophie. God - I hope she becomes a twist in this season’s storyline. I’m not content with how her story arc ended.

10:21 - “I didn’t have anything to do with Endicott’s death and neither did Jessica.” Yep. Gil definitely knows (or at least suspects) that Ainsley and Malcolm are somehow involved with Endicott’s murder. It’s killing me that we’re not getting the big “team and/or Gil find out and/or confront Malcolm about it” moment.

10:31 - OMG. Alan Cumming’s eyebrow wag here. hahahahaha

10:35 - Look at how pissed off Gil is as soon as Hoxley suggests that he and Jessica have a romantic history. 1) Gil still has it bad for Jessica (and is hurt that she rejected him again 2) Gil’s a pretty private dude and probably doesn’t like his personal business being speculated upon by a total stranger with ill intent 3) Gil is also getting protective of the Whitly’s. Not just Jessica but Malcolm (and maybe Ainsley) too.

10:58 - Europol agents aren’t allowed to make arrests?!? THEN WTF IS THE POINT OF HOXLEY’S CHARACTER?!? TO DRIVE DOUBT INTO THE MINDS OF THE TEAM WITH REGARDS TO MALCOLM?!? FOR REAL. WHY?! TO FORCE GIL TO ARREST MALCOLM AND AINSLEY?!?!

11:08 - “To watch you put the cuffs on Mr.Endicott’s killer. Deal?” “Deal.” oooooooohhhhhh no. I do not like the foreshadowing here. If Gil has to arrest Ainsley and/or Malcolm.....idek. Part of me wants to watch it for the emotional whump (of all parties - including Jessica). Part of me wants to ugly cry at the thought of it though.

11:39 - “How do you know so much about yachts?” ....THANK YOU JT. DANI HAS A STRANGE AMOUNT OF NAVAL KNOWLEDGE IN THIS EPISODE AND WE ALL KNOW “I watch a lot of Below Deck” IS UTTER HORSE CRAP. Ugh. I want to know more about Dani and JT’s personal lives. So. Badly.

11:44 - <3 <3 <3 The look Malcolm and JT exchange when Dani claims that she watches a lot of Below Deck is absolutely precious. It’s like they’re best friends and/or brothers. They both knew Dani was lying. <3

11:54 - “At least he’s the real deal.” Ouch. I honestly can’t tell if JT is just teasing Malcolm here or if JT genuinely believes this. ....Is this JT’s way to letting Malcolm know that he has suspicions about his involvement with Endicott’s death?

12:06 - “Says the guy who bought his book.” HA. Dani is on fire this episode. The snark queen. Look at how pleased Malcolm is that Dani is defending him. <3 Warms my cold dead heart.

12:09 - annnnndd now JT is definitely teasing Malcolm. “What our boy Bright needs is a moniker.” hahaha watching Dani and JT come up with stupid profiler monikers was so cute. I love it when the team gangs up to (lovingly) tease Malcolm.

12:30 - “No. Nothing yet.” Again - Malcolm is a terrible liar. The team must know that he’s involved with this thing. They’re detectives.

12:59 - Martin’s physical reaction to Malcolm saying, “No. That woman does not deserve to die.” Is HILARIOUS. Martin is so freaking desperate for Malcolm to become a serial killer that he doesn’t even care the Ainsley has already murdered someone.

13:19 - “He has a perfect track record.”.....what? So does that mean he’s solved every case he’s ever worked on? Taken credit for solving every case he’s ever work on? Hand picked the cases he works on so he knows he can solve them? Probably a combination of the above. Sometime about Hoxley reminds me of Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter. You feel me?

13:23 - The fact that Tom Payne (a Brit) is being told that Hoxley has “perfect teeth. For a Brit” by a Welsh man is hilarious.

13:34 - Does this fish packing joint have no security?!? Like Malcolm didn’t have to pick a lock or anything. He just walked right in (and he’s not being quiet).

13:51 - “I can think ruthless. I don’t know if I can be ruthless.” THIS. THIS is Malcolm in a nutshell. Think about Nicky Covington. Malcolm wanted to act ruthless but he couldn’t. He ended up saving Nicky because he couldn’t go through with his ruthless plan. That’s the difference between Malcolm and (quite frankly) the rest of his family. Jessica, Martin, and Ainsley can all be ruthless. All of them. Jessica on a lesser degree but Martin and Ainsley are confidently ruthless. Often.

13:57 - Ok. For real though. HOW HAS NO ONE OVERHEARD THESE PHONE CALLS BETWEEN MARTIN AND MALCOLM. THE PHONES HAVE TO BE TAPPED RIGHT?!? IN A SECURE MENTAL INSTITUTION FOR MURDERERS?!? and I stg that Mr. David knows things. That man is not a moron and he’s pieced stuff together (not from this scene obviously, but still).

14:13. - “Why don’t I break out.” The fact that Malcolm hasn’t mentioned that Martin wants to escape to anyone (since 2x4) is really stressing me out. I know Martin’s going to break out - the promos have made that very obvious but I’m still anxious about it. Mostly I’m worried for the health and safety of Malcolm (and Gil, Jessica, Dani, JT, Edrisa...).

14:17 - “We all go on the run together.” Martin is delusional. He thinks that the whole family will go on the run with him?!?!? He might be able to convince Ainsley. He might be able to blackmail or threaten Malcolm. BUT Jessica? She’s not going willingly. Hell - she might kill him herself if Martin escapes and tries to come near her (which.....I would actually kind of like to see).

14:48 - The fact that Malcolm apologizes to a corps is so precious. Really reinforces the fact that Malcolm is not a killer.

15:00 - Oh look. Another scene for Malcolm’s nightmares. “The time I cut off a dead guy’s thumb to protect my sister”

15:24 - annnndd Malcolm is really close to having a panic attack. Look at that face. :( Someone give this guy a hug. Please.

15:34 - Where the HELL is Edrisa!?!?!?

15:42 - Malcolm, you utter moron. What possessed your stupid ass to show up at a crime scene with a soaking wet arm and draw attention to your arm by shaking it?!?! WHEN THE BODY WAS JUST DRAGGED OUT OF A VAT OF WATER. AND YOU TAMPERED WITH THE BODY?!!? YOU DUMBASS.

15:52 - This is Gil - terrified. He’s scared because 1) he knows Malcolm is lying , 2) he’s concerned for Malcolm’s mental health and 3) he’s starting to think that either a) Malcolm killed this guy, b) Malcolm knows who killed this guy and is obstructing justice, or c) Hoxley is going to pin this on Malcolm and Gil won’t be able to save him.

16:14 - “I’m never buying frozen fish again.” hahaha Dani is killing it this episode. <3

16:23 - Check out how Gil is staring at Malcolm. Gil totally thinks Malcolm has the thumb.

16:50 - “Older model” Shit. Seriously? Are finger print scanners on phones old?!? My phone isn’t that old......I got it 6 years ago?

17:16 - MALCOLM IS A TERRIBLE LIAR. Honestly, the pure terror on his face throughout most of this episode screams “I KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THE MURDER.” If the team hasn’t pieced this together yet they’re not worthy of being detectives.

17:29 - I’m not going to lie. I had to fast forward through the Martin/Capshaw scenes for the rewatch. I find them so upsetting to watch. I just can’t do it more than once. Their whole dynamic is gross, creepy, and just ugh.

20:00 - Jessica and Hoxley talking about Endicott’s death is so satisfying.

20:35 - “Jessica Whitly. Played for a fool. Yet. Again.” Ok Hoxley. You are not allowed to disrespect my girl Jessica like that.

21:10 - The biggest problem with Jessica and Gil’s “mock interrogations” by Hoxley is that neither of them mention Ainsley or Malcolm. It’s super suspicious. They mention other people by name. People who should be connected to Ainsley and/or Malcolm given the context of the sentence. Hoxley is a moron for not nailing Ainsley and Malcolm for the crime during this episode. It’s so so so obvious.

21:19 - hahahahahahahaha Jessica grabbing the martini out of Hoxley’s hands. hahahahaha I stan.

21:35 - annnnnd Jessica is a terrible liar as well. Seriously - why doesn’t she just say “ENDICOTT WAS KILLED OVER HERE!!”. Another parallel between her and Malcolm though. Malcolm + Jessica can’t lie well. Ainsley + Martin are expert liars.

22:54 - Again. Ainsley is intrigued at the fact that Malcolm has a thumb in his freezer. Much like Martin would be if he knew. Jessica on the other hand shares Malcolm’s fear and disgust about the situation.

23:00- “We”?!!?!? AINSLEY YOU HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING. MALCOLM HAS BEEN COVERING FOR YOUR ASS. YOU JUST HAVEN’T TURNED YOURSELF IN AFTER YOU REMEMBERED. THAT’S YOUR ONLY CONTRIBUTION TO THE “KEEPING ENDICOTT’S MURDER A SECRET” SITUATION.

23:07 - “Do you even see what you are doing to him.” This line both terrified and delighted me. On one hand - I’m grateful that Jessica can see how much emotional pain Malcolm is in because of this situation. One the other hand - Ainsley looks pissed that Jessica is blaming her for Malcolm’s general brokenness. If Ainsley goes full serial killer - Malcolm is going to be on her list. “The brother that overshadowed her.” “The favourite child” “The reason she had to be a perfect daughter” “The reason she was ignored”

23:32 - “Got it.” Damn. Ainsley is bitter. She wants to control this situation. She doesn’t like taking orders from Malcolm.

25:00 - MR.DAVID IS RIGHT THERE. IF HE DOESN’T BLOW THE WHISTLE ON THIS I’M GOING TO BE SO DISAPPOINTED.

25:12 -”The Brain Fart” hahahahaha OMG.

25:53 - “You’re being rude Hoxley.” ......Martin being the nice guy? I’m genuinely disgusted.

26:26 - “Your son Malcolm.” THIS. THIS is why Ainsley is so pissed off. Everyone has always thought Malcolm would turn out like Martin. Ever since they were kids. She’s pissed off that no one considers her to be a threat. They’re all concerned for and scared of Malcolm. Not her. She’s invisible. Why do you think she became a TV reporter? To force people to see her.

26:50 - I’ve never wanted to Martin to kill anyone more than I have in this moment. I do find Martin’s protective love for Malcolm interesting though.

27:37 - How long was that phone in water before Malcolm grabbed it?!? Anyone ever drop a phone in water? I don’t care how much rice you have. It’s toast 90% of the time.

27:44 - Malcolm explaining murder to Sunshine is so cute.

28:22 - And my heart rate has skyrocketed.

29:10 - “To protect your sister.” Huh. I find it interesting that Hoxley has considered that Malcolm may have killed Endicott to protect Ainsley. It suggests that he thinks Endicott was a threat to Ainsley alive. Makes me wonder about what happened to Ainsley before Malcolm got back to the house in 1x20.

29:16 - “You all had something to gain.” Did they though? Martin had something to gain - keeping his cushy Claremont cell. Ainsley had something to gain - “A news story.” Jessica had something to gain - “safety”. But Malcolm? He didn’t personally have anything to gain. He wanted his Mom and sister safe but he never thought about himself.

30:11 - “Perhaps the murder weapon is still among your mother’s silver.” I find it interesting Hoxley has pieced that together. I also find it highly unbelievable but that’s just me.

30:15 - Hoxely, rich people don’t carve their own Christmas roasts. The Whitly’s have staff for that.

30:24 - “You’re still just a scared little boy. Hungry for daddy’s love.” Ouch. It’s true but it still hurts. This is not helping Malcolm’s mental state. At all. Istg if we don’t get a Malcolm mental health crisis soon I’m going to have my own mental health crisis. Seriously. I want to see this boy lose it. I’m a monster. I know. I want ugly crying. I want panic attacks. I want him to go catatonic. I want someone to comfort him.

32:35 - Nat’s a good liar. Very convincing. Too bad Malcolm’s a good profiler.

33:53 - Check out Spider Monkey Malcolm. <3

34:14 - Earlier this episode when Malcolm said he can think ruthless but not be ruthless? This is the proof. He could’ve sat back and let Natalie kill Hoxley. In some ways - it would be good for Malcolm. But Malcolm’s not ruthless. He values human life. He’s an A+ dude. For better or for worse he tries to help people.

34:26 - Really Hoxley? Do you plan on stabbing Malcolm?!? (FYI - this scene is very reminiscent of Lockhart pulling his wand on Harry and Ron in the Chamber of Secrets #justsaying).

34:45 - “I’m going to be killed by a millennial. What a twist.” hahahhahahahahhaa

35:22 - “I’m British.” hahaha I love this scene so much.

37:14 - FINALLY THE PAPA!GIL CONTENT WE”VE BEEN WAITING FOR. (it’s weak but I’ll take it)

37:39 - AHHHH the fact that Gil and Malcolm are both non-verbally communicating that Natalie didn’t kill Endicott is killing me. Does Malcolm think that Gil hates him? Does Gil really think Malcolm killed Endicott? Or just that Malcolm covered it up? I NEED TO KNOW.

37:46 - Concerned!Gil and a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. <3 <3 <3 My icy heart has melted.

37:54 - annnnnd Hoxley ruins the moment.

39:39 - I’m not content with this ending. It’s all too convenient. Hoxley still thinks Ainsley and Malcolm did it. Mark my words. This isn’t over.

39:53 - Ainsley is so smug here. I want to slap her. She’s elated that she’s getting away with murder. She doesn’t care about how it’s hurting her family.

40:00 - Did they really do the interview inside Jessica’s house?!?! Gross.

40:17- I might be the only one but I love that polo on Malcolm. Something about it is adorable.

40:22 - ......is Ainsley really trying to take credit for “putting this Endicott mess behind us”?!?! Because - she didn’t. OMG. She absolutely didn’t. Even if she did - she’s the reason they’re in the mess to being with!!!!!!! I can’t. I just....can’t.

40:45 - The episode ends right here for me. I know Capshaw and Martin kiss. It makes me want to hurl and I refuse to watch it again. I also know that Capshaw takes the scissors away from Martin. I think their whole dynamic is upsetting and creepy. I’m like 95% sure that Capshaw is a serial killer on the DL. Or at least some sort of psychopath. Martin and Capshaw are both manipulating each other and it’s too stressful to watch.

I didn’t love this episode. It was a bit all over the place. If you stuck around this long - thank you. I’ll see you guys next week. <3

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livia-ackerman · 4 years ago

Text

the scouts during corona virus / headcannons

Levi Ackerman

ok I think we all know that Levi is a clean freak. Covid would probably be one of the worst things for him lmaooo 😭

he would always wear his mask properly outside, no matter where he is. He would probably put another 5 masks in his bag too, just in case

he would wash his hands everytime he touched something, he would even spray his self when he gets back home from somewhere

my boi levi hates germs. I imagine him carrying around hand sanitizers and disinfectant wipes so he can clean every surface

he would yell to strangers if they wore their mask in a wrong way or didn't keep their social distancing. Atleast 2 meters long lmao

and lastly, the only reason for Levi to go outside is food and of course cleaning supplies. He would have a bunch of masks and hand sanitizers kept in his house so he won't worry if he ever run out of them

Mikasa Ackerman

she wouldn't really care for herself but she would be really careful only because she doesn't want others to get ill, especially her friends

she would wash her hands everytime she got back home from outside and message ereh to remind him to wash his hands too

she wouldn't really care about the social distancing but if someone doesn't care about covid in general she would throw hands

and she would always make sure ereh is fine and carry an extra mask in case he forgets to take one on his own

Eren Jeager

he would probably wear his mask under his nose or forget to wash his hands because he doesn't have enough time to care about it lmao don't come at me

he wouldn't keep his social distances nor wear his mask properly and Levi would whoop his ass

but of course he doesn't t want his friends to get ill too so he is trying to be more careful around them and carry a hand sanitizer too

and of course he would be annoyed by mikasa's actions because he thinks that she is overreacting and that he can take care of his self

Jean Kirstein

he would most likely say that covid doesn't even exist lmao 😭 ok but i'm 100% sure that this is something he would say

he would always forget to wear a mask or wear it under his nose too, saying that he can't breathe easily

he wouldn't carry a hand sanitizer with him or anything else but he would wash his hands as much as he can because his friends scold him

he would also throw hands with Eren because others say that they are alike and he doesn't like being compared to the "suicidal maniac"

Sasha Braus

ok but i'm pretty sure that her mask would always be dirty from her food or she wouldn't wear a mask at all because she can't eat when she is wearing one

but when she is in a crowded place she would wear her mask properly because she cares for others and doesn't want them to get harmed in any way

she would always forget the hand sanitizer but mikasa has Sasha's back too

and lastly I believe that Sasha and Connie would have matching masks because they are besties lol

Connie Springer

he definitely doesn't know how to wear his mask or he wears it upside down

he would pour a lot of hand sanitizer in his hands for once saying that it's enough and his hands are clean enough

he would try to be very careful but he always gets distracted from something

he wouldn't care about social distancing and he would always be close to Sasha to make jokes or pull a prank

and as I said above, he would have matching masks with Sasha. Only then he would wear his mask properly because he wants to show off lol

Armin Arlert

Armin might not be a clean freak but he would be as careful as his captain

he would always carry extra masks for his friends because he cares about them

he would never wear his mask wrong, and would politely ask others to do that too

he is lowkey afraid of covid so he would try to mantain social distancing even from his friends too

he would carry a lot of hand sanitizers with him to make sure he is clean

Hange Zoe

oh damn this madwoman wouldn't even understand

there is no way she would wear a mask because she would always get distracted by something random and forget it

levi gets disgusted from her and scold her ofc or shout at her to get washed

she would most likely do experiments and bring ill people to her laboratory to examine them and find everything about it

moblit wouldn't be really satisfied by her actions because he is afraid of covid too and wants Hange to be safe but he wouldn't really mind, since he is always there to remind her to wash her hands

Erwin Smith

oof you should be ready for him giving a speech and theories about covid everyday

masks and disinfectant wipes are a must, never forgets to wash his hands

he would ask others politely to keep their distances like a gentleman

he would try to stay home as much as he can but my man gotta jog atleast once a day or else he will go feral lol

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pi-creates · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think is the best storyline/conflict that the game has ever given us, and what do you think was the worse? (in terms of how entertaining and well done it was)

I’ve been thinking on this one for a while, and I’m still struggling, so forgive me if this is just a ramble. A lot of the conflicts just don’t feel as consistent as our “goals”, ya know? Like, I find it hard to differentiate between what would be considered a storyline conflict, and what would be just another hurdle considering how quickly the drama can be moved on from. Semantics, maybe, but it makes things fuzzy for me.

When I think of the best storyline, the one that jumps out at me is still the entirety of season 1 episode 2 - Starved for Help. It is a complete arc that delivers a multitude of moral quandaries before ending on a note that the repercussions of what happened aren’t so easily forgotten. Lilly’s mental state is destroyed, Kenny’s connection to the rest of the group is either shattered or reinforced with an iron grip, and your humanity is in question after how you dealt with your allies, enemies, and an unseen other who’s ill fortune can be your gain. Everything here is heavy, ominous, and still satisfying when the conflict passes.

And so much happens, some of which is easily forgotten but it all comes back around to make the bigger picture more complete. That bear trap at the start could just seem like an excuse to add more to the cast, but then we see it’s a sign of how far the St John’s reach actually stretches. Clem’s missing hat and Jolene start as a weird tangent of a stranger being too close for comfort, which works well enough as foreshadowing to the progress of the season, but it also gives us more seeds of doubt when she too seems involved in this conflict between the St John’s and the bandits. And then the final choice - are you bigger than that? Are you going to be the random person in the woods prepared to take something meant for someone else’s child for your own? Because we should remember how that looks, to see something that belongs to someone we are meant to protect in the hands of someone else - someone who has their own bigger story that we won’t ever know.

I like all of that. The one negative would be that Mark is introduced as a character we are meant to at least be mildly familiar with, but also not so familiar that he can die. I don’t like that part - I kinda feel like it would have been more interesting if Travis survived the intro and they used him in Mark’s place... but ya know, flesh him out more. I don’t feel like greater familiarity (though a false familiarity) with Mark actually made his end any more horrifying - it’s still horrifying even if that person is new to the group.

As for worst... I think the big problem here is that I think the worst conflict the game could present would be one I don’t remember. That would be the ultimate failure of a storyline. So I feel like whatever I say here is still not that bad since it clearly still left enough of an impact for me to remember it.

I’m literally trying to think of what storyline has left me wondering “why did that even matter?” the most. And I think for me that’s the entirety of the time spent at Howe’s Hardware in season 2. I don’t feel like anything I did there mattered... at all.

It is a plot point, but it doesn’t feel like an interactive one like it should in this particular game series. And the conflict itself doesn’t feel all that fun to me. Maybe it’s a pacing issue, I’m not sure, but it didn’t feel desperate enough to me to be satisfied when a problem is overcome. Also, a lot of the additional hurdles in this part of the story occur because people behave stupidly. Mistakes or miscalculations are good hurdles to prolong the escape plan, but instead it feels like someone did something stupid for the sole purpose of adding more drama. That’s not fun, that’s tedious and adds an element of frustration because an 11 year old has more sense than any of them.

Though this is another one of those issues where I think a big part of me feeling that way is because I expected so much from this location. My own imagination saw so many ways we could deal with being held captive, and all the pitfalls of either being too cooperative or combative to the force keeping us there. But there wasn’t deviations, so I was left underwhelmed and wondering why this entire section wasn’t just a cutscene with QTEs and no illusion of choice. Like... the only choice here that I feel makes any impact is the one where you can choose to watch Carver die - and that isn’t story impact so much as a theoretical impact on Clem’s psyche that is on the player’s shoulders to interpret.

So while I don’t necessarily think this storyline is completely awful (it does serve a purpose for the plot), it is still unsatisfying to me in terms of the way it’s told and how it plays.

#twdg talk #i really did struggle with this one #i don't usually think of things as best or worst #more just 'like' and 'dislike' without tiers #so it's hard to make distinctions

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zintranslations · 4 years ago

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 54

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations

Chapter 54: The Sixth Door

A few months later, Lin Qiushi was to face his own sixth door.

He thought that like last time, Ruan Nanzhu would have him pass it with Cheng Qianli, who was on door six himself. However, Ruan Nanzhu intentionally separated them this time.

Though he didn’t know why, Lin Qiushi didn’t ask further, trusting that Ruan Nanzhu had his own logic.

With about ten days left, Cheng Qianli received his own clue. Typically, everybody helped to research the clue, but this time was an exception. Cheng Qianli’s clue was kept secret from everybody in the mansion, known only to himself and his brother.

Cheng Qianli became rather cheery after he got his clue. When Lin Qiushi asked what he was so giddy about, Cheng Qianli replied, “hehehe, my brother told me not to tell.”

Lin Qiushi, “...” Even though Cheng Qianli was foolish sometimes, he still listened to his brother about important matters.

Once Cheng Qianli was done giggling, he said to Lin Qiushi, “After I come out, I’ll tell you in private. Have you gotten your clue?”

Lin Qiushi shook his head, “not yet.” Ruan Nanzhu had yet to give him anything, and seemed to be contemplating something.

Cheng Qianli, “you got Ruan-ge with you, so don’t worry, nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Mh.” Lin Qiushi nodded. “Good luck to us both then.”

“Good luck.” Cheng Qianli just kept grinning in shameless glee.

A few more days passed before Lin Qiushi finally got the clue to his own door. This time the clue was simple: the slender shadow.

“What’s this?” Lin Qiushi asked upon first receiving the clue, confused, “some kind of legend?”

“It’s a foreign urban legend,” Ruan Nanzhu replied. “People also call it Slenderman, have you heard of it?”

Lin Qiushi thought a bit before nodding, “vaguely.” He thought he’d seen a movie of the sort.

Ruan Nanzhu tossed him a file.

“Take a look first. There's not a lot, but it’s better than nothing.”

Lin Qiushi began looking through the file.

The file recorded in detail this slender ghostly shadow. It was a Western urban legend about a kind of humanoid monster with long thin limbs and no face. With spindly arms and legs, this monster looked somewhat like a human spider. It appeared in rural spaces or small towns and preyed primarily on children left on their own. Of course, it attacked adults as well. The children it targeted simply disappeared, but the adults would start manifesting odd symptoms, like nosebleeds, nightmares, and even seeing their own worst fears.

The file continued to describe Slenderman's distinct methods of killing, such as spearing people on tree branches and bleeding them to death. They also liked removing people's organs and putting them in plastic bags… Regardless, urban legends like these were terrifying enough in real life, for more faint-hearted people, not to mention inside the world of the doors.

Lin Qiushi quickly finished reading and thought that was all the prepwork needed. To his surprise, Ruan Nanzhu suddenly said they were going shopping for clothes.

Lin Qiushi, bewildered, “for clothes? What clothes?”

Ruan Nanzhu smiled, “clothes for you to wear inside.”

Under the pitying gazes of everybody else in the mansion, a still-befuddled Lin Qiushi left for the mall with Ruan Nanzhu. The first few items were still normal men's clothes, but then they came to the women’s section…

Ruan Nanzhu, who was obviously used to this, announced he was buying clothes for his girlfriend. His gaze, however, surveyed Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi didn’t understand at first, and asked like a fool, “Nanzhu, you have a girlfriend?”

Ruan Nanzhu, "no."

Lin Qiushi, “then why are you buying women’s clothes?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “I’m not buying, you are.”

Lin Qiushi, “but I don’t have a girlfriend either…”

Ruan Nanzhu, walking up front with a few bags, turned.

“It’s for you to wear. What girlfriend.”

Lin Qiushi’s brain bluescreened for three whole seconds. When he finally comprehended what was going on, shock and fear entered his eyes.

“Me? Wear?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "yes, you."

Lin Qiushi, “But— Can I wear them when I look like this—”

Ruan Nanzhu’s expression went strange, “what do you think you look like?”

Lin Qiushi, “just a regular guy."

Sinking into silence, Ruan Nanzhu’s gaze on Lin Qiushi went stranger and stranger. Goosebumps rising from that gaze, Lin Qiushi forewent further questions and obediently followed him back to the mansion.

Three days later, Ruan Nanzhu plucked Lin Qiushi out of hiding from his room and made him change his clothes.

Lin Qiushi, who had been an office worker for some time, couldn’t be said to be particularly fit. He had an average male physique, with features that were nonaggressive and clean: double-lidded eyes that weren’t too big with a pretty smile. Ruan Nanzhu sat Lin Qiushi down and began taking out makeup tools.

Lin Qiushi’s eyes went wide with trepidation. “Nanzhu… Can we talk?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “talk about what?”

Lin Qiushi asked faintly, “can we not do this?”

Ruan Nanzhu was expressionless. “Didn’t you ask if I really liked crossdressing so much? Rather me explain, why don’t you just experience it yourself?” His eyes narrowed with a fake-looking smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you once we’re inside.”

Lin Qiushi nearly cried.

He knew none of the makeup items before him, and felt only Ruan Nanzhu rubbing and patting all these things on his face. So much time passed that he was nearly asleep when Ruan Nanzhu finally straightened and patted off his hands. "Done."

Lin Qiushi, "....."

Ruan Nanzhu handed a mirror to Lin Qiushi.

“Take a look, then pick a hairstyle you like.”

Lin Qiushi took the mirror, and was a bit dazed by what he saw: a woman’s face. “She” wasn’t astonishingly beautiful, but was certainly attractive enough to draw the eye. This face was gentle and the expression ill-treated, inspiring pity and sympathy.

Lin Qiushi couldn’t help himself, and declared, fuck.

“Dirty mouth on a lady,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Do you like long or short hair?”

Lin Qiushi, “long…” He meant he liked long-haired girls, but Ruan Nanzhu just picked up a wig and began putting it on him.

Lin Qiushi, "....."

Once that was done, Ruan Nanzhu began finishing up the last details. He probably planned for Lin Qiushi to wear a dress at first, but upon seeing Lin Qiushi’s expression of utter terror—he looked on the verge of fainting—relented on this kind of shock for Lin Qiushi’s first time. The end outfit was fairly unisex.

Once it was forced onto him, Lin Qiushi only wanted to turn and run—he’d learned his lesson about running his mouth.

Everything was finally ready, and Ruan Nanzhu examined the person before him with a satisfied expression. Lin Qiushi wasn't the chiseled sort of handsome, but rather a mellow and personable sort, which meant makeup could easily smooth out the more discordant details. Paired with Lin Qiushi's gentle nature, it actually all came together quite finely.

"I have to wear this?" Faced with the big man himself, Lin Qiushi couldn't exactly express a temper. He could only attempt to pitifully plead, "Nanzhu, I know I was wrong. Can't we..."

Ruan Nanzhu lifted a brow.

"No."

Lin Qiushi, "....."

Lin Qiushi, "but I don't know how to speak in a fake voice." Ruan Nanzhu's voice inside the doors was slightly unisex, but definitely did not ping as boy.

Ruan Nanzhu, "so practice."

Lin Qiushi, "I only have ten days or so..."

Ruan Nanzhu's insincere smile: "Take your time, there's no rush. We have plenty more opportunities in the future. This time though, if you can't talk, you can always pretend to be mute."

Lin Qiushi, "....."

Ruan Nanzhu tapped his finger against the table. "A frail and fragile mute girl, isn't that an interesting character?"

Lin Qiushi, "....." Tan Zaozao, come get the man for your entertainment circle, and the next Oscar was sure to go to China.

After saying what he did, Ruan Nanzhu still provided Lin Qiushi a "generous" second option: if you don't want to play a mute girl, you can always play a man with a passion for crossdressing.

In the end, Lin Qiushi, not wanting to field odd looks, still opted to play mute.

Because of the outfit, Lin Qiushi had to bear the ridicule of others in the mansion.

"Hahahaha Lin Qiushi, so you've come to this too." Cheng Qianli was the most impertinent. "But you actually look good like this, much better than Chen Fei."

Lin Qiushi, "hah?"

Chen Fei glowered from the side. "Fuck if you're one to talk, Cheng Qianli. Looked in a mirror recently?"

Cheng Qianli, "hmph, I'd be drop dead gorgeous as a girl."

Ruan Nanzhu, "oh yeah?"

Cheng Qianli, upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's voice, did a full-body shudder. "No no no, Ruan-ge, I'm only kidding."

Ruan Nanzhu peered once at him, then sat down at the table. "How are preparations with your brother then?"

Cheng Qianli, "good, actually." He took a bite. "This next world seems pretty easy."

Ruan Nanzhu only hummed in response, and didn't ask any follow-up questions. He seemed confident enough in Cheng Yixie—Lin Qiushi just didn't know what the argument he overheard on the rooftop the other day was about.

Considering his personality, no matter what, Cheng Yixie didn't seem the type to easily get into arguments with people.

But in the end, Lin Qiushi didn't figure any of this out, because the time to enter the door quickly arrived.

Ten odd days later on a random afternoon, Lin Qiushi had been snacking in the living room with Cheng Qianli, but after eating and eating, he turned around and suddenly found Cheng Qianli gone without a trace.

His first thought was to wonder if Cheng Qianli had gone to the bathroom. After a while without Cheng Qianli returning however, he realized Cheng Qianli had probably gone into the doors.

About half an hour later, Cheng Qianli suddenly reappeared on the sofa.

His face was awfully pale and he clutched at his chest, sucking in deep breaths. Seeing him like this, Lin Qiushi quickly asked, "are you alright? Qianli?"

Glancing once at Lin Qiushi in panic, Cheng Qianli bolted for the stairs without a word.

Seeing him so distressed, Lin Qiushi hastily followed.

Cheng Qianli went straight for Cheng Yixie's bedroom door, twisting the knob without bothering to knock.

The door opened to reveal Cheng Yixie, having just returned as well, sitting on the bed. He was still mostly expressionless, looking up at the agitated Cheng Qianli.

"What?"

"Ge—" Cheng Qianli threw himself onto Cheng Yixie, clutching on for dear life. "I thought you didn't make it, I thought you didn't make it—"

Cheng Yixie didn't reply, only patted at Cheng Qianli's back with a gentle hand to calm his brother.

Cheng Qianli seemed to have been well and truly terrified; his face was still colorless, and looked much worse off than Cheng Yixie.

The brothers stayed in the embrace for a little while, until emotions have settled. Slightly embarrassed, Cheng Qianli wriggled himself out of his brother's lap and scratched his nose. "I'm hungry. Gonna go eat something."

Cheng Yixie didn't stop him, and watched him go.

Once everything seemed fine, Lin Qiushi made to leave as well, but Cheng Yixie's voice suddenly came behind him: "Lin Qiushi, if anything happens to me, will you help Cheng Qianli?"

Lin Qiushi startled.

"Never mind," Cheng Yixie said. "Go on."

With that he closed the door, not giving Lin Qiushi an opportunity to respond.

Honestly, the usual Cheng Yixie didn't seem anything like a sixteen year old. He tended to be cool and calm, a lot like Ruan Nanzhu. Perhaps this sixth door really had been a close call, to have provoked him to say something like that.

Lin Qiushi felt an inexplicable ache in his chest.

Back in the living room, Cheng Qianli had started on the snacks again, but he didn't seem to be enjoying them at all. He looked thoroughly exhausted.

Lin Qiushi asked after him for a bit, and found out the world they'd gone into this time was a medieval post-war battlefield. There really had been some close calls.

Fortunately, they'd managed to escape in the end.

"My brother and I both have a genetic disorder," Cheng Qianli spoke as he snacked. This was news to Lin Qiushi. "We can't do sports, and when it's really serious, we can barely walk. The doctor says neither of us will live past eighteen."

Lin Qiushi listened.

"Then my brother entered the doors first," Cheng Qianli said. "His illness got better… Then I went in too." Scratching his head, he laughed, "sometimes I think, that the doors aren't really scary at all. Without them, we wouldn't have been able to lead normal lives, or live at all. We've already got more than our fair share."

Lin Qiushi said, "don't think like that. There are more days ahead of you."

"Yeah, more ahead." Cheng Qianli's gaze suddenly seemed lost. "And I don't know at all how I'll end my life."

This was hard to listen to. It was in this moment that Lin Qiushi fully realized that everybody in the mansion was dying. Some were emotionally prepared, some weren't, but there was no exception—they'd all caught on their breaths the scent of death.

"Good luck on your next door." Cheng Qianli stood. "I'm going to rest for a bit, I'm exhausted…"

And when he yawned, Lin Qiushi nodded and watched him go.

Probably because he had nothing in particular to cling to, Lin Qiushi could enter the doors with relative calm; he would take death, but he'd also happily welcome each rebirth.

Lin Qiushi's door and Cheng Qianli's weren't that far apart; the midnight after Cheng Qianli returned, Lin Qiushi started awake in his bed, left his room, and walked out into the hallway with those twelve metal doors once more.

The first five metal doors were sealed off, and the seventh onward all could not be opened. Only the sixth door allowed Lin Qiushi to pull it open with ease.

After the familiar spinning, Lin Qiushi found himself on a paved pathway. It was empty all around the path, with only a black sign pointing forward, on which was written the blurry text: Throughwaters Village

It was chilly, and Lin Qiushi wrapped his clothes tight around himself before starting forward. The path was wide and swathed in thick fog. After about six to seven minutes, a human silhouette finally came into view. The figure was familiar. Lin Qiushi's eyes lit up the moment he saw it, and called out, "Mengmeng—"

The person turned. The face was a stranger's but the disposition was not. He asked, "candy?"

Lin Qiushi, "love it, can't get enough. I like mint and strawberry flavored ones."

He replied, "I don't like them, because I've got an ache in my fourth tooth."

With the secret signal and each other's identities confirmed, Lin Qiushi could finally sigh in relief. He said, "I didn't think we'd find each other so early… Hang on, why are you dressed as a guy?" His eyes went wide.

Ruan Nanzhu replied, "did I say I was going to dress up with you?"

Lin Qiushi, "....."

Ruan Nanzhu put a finger to his lips and smiled. "A mute person can't speak so much."

Lin Qiushi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Can't I…"

“No." Ruan Nanzhu already knew what he was going to ask and heartlessly refused. "Be a good girl now."

Lin Qiushi, "....." Giving his hair a tug, he discovered that the wig did in fact become real hair, and for some reason, his height inside the door this time was shorter than usual.

"Come on, let's go find the others first." Ruan Nanzhu scanned their surroundings. "This fog's all kinds of irritating."

So the two headed onward.

Walking behind Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi discretely snuck a glance inside his pants. He exhaled in relief when the important bits were all still there.

Thankfully, it was only the hair that changed and nothing else, or he’d have found himself gone catatonic about it.

They kept going ahead, until finally different scenery grew visible: a ragged little town emerged from the fog before them. This town had clear Western influences, but most of the signs were still in Chinese.

Suddenly curious, Lin Qiushi asked, "have you ever ended up somewhere foreign?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "sure, aren't we in one now?"

Lin Qiushi said, "but the signs are Chinese."

Ruan Nanzhu, "they probably factored in people's standard cultural knowledge and figured sticking with Chinese was best." He glanced at Lin Qiushi. "After all, some people can't even read that."

Lin Qiushi knew Ruan Nanzhu was teasing him for pretending to be illiterate in the last door, and could only mutter awkwardly, "those were extenuating circumstances though…"

They walked into the town and found a group of people gathered in the small village square.

With a single sweeping glance, Ruan Nanzhu was able to count, "eight."

Lin Qiushi was already getting into character, and didn't reply.

Emerging from the fog, the two drew some attention. Some eyes fell on the stunning Ruan Nanzhu, but some even fell on Lin Qiushi.

The current Lin Qiushi had long hair and, due to being shorter, an apparently frail frame underneath the clothes. He was also pale and seemed a bit frightened, looking up at Ruan Nanzhu with dark eyes wide with helplessness—or at least that's what it looked like to outsiders. The reality was…

Lin Qiushi: fuck, fuck me, they're all staring at me.

Ruan Nanzhu: let them stare, what's the harm.

Lin Qiushi: what if they discover I'm a guy?

Ruan Nanzhu: whip the big guy out and scare them all to death.

Lin Qiushi: .....

And after the above transpired through nothing but meaningful eye contact, Lin Qiushi knew there was nothing more he could say.

Somebody was approaching. Probably because Ruan Nanzhu seemed harder to get along with, the person's attention completely targeted the poor, weak, and helpless-looking Lin Qiushi.

Before Lin Qiushi even had time to react, Ruan Nanzhu extended a hand to halt the person in his tracks. "Yeah?”

"Nothing." He was a handsome young man in his twenties, clad in a stylish outfit, and he seemed very interested in Lin Qiushi. "I just wanted to ask if you two needed some help."

"I don't think she can talk." Staring the guy down, Ruan Nanzhu blockaded himself in front of Lin Qiushi.

"Can't talk?" That person seemed even more interested now, and said, "Hi, I'm Wang Tianxin."

Ruan Nanzhu, "Lu Meng."

Seeing Ruan Nanzhu's protectiveness, Wang Tianxin smiled.

"Do you two know each other then?"

Ruan Nanzhu said, "no, but meeting the moment we entered feels a bit fated, doesn't it."

Lin Qiushi fished out his phone and typed: I'm Yu Qiuqiu, it's a pleasure to meet you both.

They both read the text on Lin Qiushi's phone screen, and Wang Tianxin said, "oh, so you're called Yu Qiuqiu. That's a cute name." He was a bit shorter than Ruan Nanzhu, and bent forward now with a friendly expression. "I'm Wang Tianxin, and if you'd like, I think we can try to be friends."

Lin Qiushi pretended to be a bit frightened, and ducked slightly behind Ruan Nanzhu. To be so solicitous without cause, the man was sure to peddle treachery or crime; Wang Tianxin's eager friendliness toward complete strangers obviously had ulterior motives. And though Lin Qiushi wasn't scared, he also wasn't stupid enough to step right into some kind of plot.

Ruan Nanzhu also didn't bother to be cordial: "she seems scared of you. Why don't you stay away from her."

Wang Tianxi looked at Ruan Nanzhu, but then actually turned and walk away.

Lin Qiushi didn't anticipate him giving up so easily, but Ruan Nanzhu let out a cold laugh—he seemed to have guessed Wang Tianxin's intentions.

The team of people for this round gradually gathered.

There were two newcomers again, both male this time. One appeared steady enough, but the other had completely broken down, crying and wailing the whole way here.

Fortunately, aside from all the crying, the new guy didn't do anything too extreme.

After giving up on Lin Qiushi, that Wang Tianxin quickly found himself another girl. In just a short amount of time, that girl and Wang Tianxin seemed to have grown very close, chatting and laughing with good cheer.

Lin Qiushi peered at Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu knew what he wanted to ask, and replied under his breath, "there's always that kind of people inside the doors. They like finding teammates. Of course, the teammates aren't just good for teamwork, and can be good for something else as well."

Lin Qiushi: such as?

Ruan Nanzhu just watched him. His smile was meaningful, but he said nothing further.

Lin Qiushi was shocked into understanding by that smile.

Wang Tianxin was clearly an expert of this way, and found his targets with precision. Upon gathering, he approached delicate-looking women with care and concern, easily winning their trust.

And Lin Qiushi, a woman with a disability, was even more clearly his type. It was only because Ruan Nanzhu got in his way that he had to change targets.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "you better follow me closely, and don't get hoodwinked by others."

Lin Qiushi shot him a glare, and thought so what if he was hoodwinked, he'd only have to whip off the skirt and compare sizes a bit...

Author's Note

Ruan Nanzhu: there's no way we're not getting a show, if I don't act someone else has to.

Lin Qiushi: .....

[Ch. 53] | [Ch. 55]

#kaleidoscope of death #cnovel #xi zixu #chinese translation #i'm doing these for practice it's so fucking funny #it's also fascinating to see translations side by side for comparison

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soprano193 · 4 years ago

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Not a Couple

Chapter 4

Constance:

"Maura, no!" Her cry made her seven-year-old jump, her hand rapidly retreating from the still hot curling iron that rested on the bathroom counter. "What are you thinking? Do you want to hurt yourself?"

Maura's eyes welled up, her hands knotted in front of her stomach. "I wanted my hair to look like yours." Her head fell, her eyes looking at the floor. It made Constance's heart break.

Walking forward, she attempted to soften her tone, plugging in the curling iron and tapping her child on the shoulder. "Next time, just ask for help." It was more blunt than she meant, but in the long run, was a lesson Maura needed to learn. "I would be happy to help you curl your hair like mine." The iron on a low heat setting, she wrapped a section of honey blonde hair around the barrel. Maura's hair curled easier than hers, so it didn't take long for her to have loose ringlets bouncing on her shoulders. Maura was quiet the entire time Constance fiddled with her hair, her hands tapping a rhythm on the sides of her legs. When Constance was satisfied, she turned Maura towards her, twirling the last ringlet around her finger. "All done. Now go pick out a dress."

Maura's hands came up to touch the navy blue strap of her mother's dress. "Is this what you're wearing?"

"Yes. Now go pick out your dress, we don't have much time." This spurred the young girl into action, and she dashed from the bathroom, her feet hitting the floor with a heavy thud as she ran down the hall.

As Maura frantically dressed, Constance switched over her purse and spoke on the phone with the gallery director, apologizing for the need to bring her daughter. "She is very well behaved, you won't even notice she is there." The woman on the other end seemed annoyed, but consented to the added person. As if Constance had any control over the nanny falling ill, or her husband's busy schedule. She yelled down the hall for her daughter one last time. "Maura! We need to leave, now!"

"Coming, Mother!" After a few moments, the young girl appeared in a navy blue dress of her own, and little pink heels. Her dress had short sleeves, and buttons down the front, but the color matched Constance's almost exactly.

"Maura, dear, what happened to your black shoes?"

The you girl's shoulders dropped and she shuffled her feet. "They don't fit. I know I don't match." It was futile to ask her to put on a pink dress instead. She wanted to match her mother, not her shoes, and they were running late.

Constance let out a sigh, but beckoned her daughter to come closer. "Regardless, we don't have time for you to change. Come along." Her daughter grinned, and clomped along behind her, reaching a hand out to walk with her mother.

Art installations always put Constance out of her mind. There was a lot going on, many people to talk to, pieces to sell, and she always seemed to lose track of time. Thankfully, Maura managed to stay close, always within reach, yet silent for the most part. She had always been a shy child, and large groups of strangers could make her anxious. So she stayed close to the one person she knew, and focused on the art pieces she could see.

When the event started to die down, Constance placed her hands on Maura's shoulders and looked up at the piece she was admiring. It almost reached the ceiling, with splatters of red, green, and orange prominently featured. "What do you think of this one, dear?"

The girl leaned back into her mother. "I like it."

"Why?"

There was a moment of silence before she answered. "The colors. They make me happy."

Before Constance could answer, someone walked behind them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Can I get a photo for the newspaper?"

Both of them turned, Constance nodding in the affirmative before walking towards better lighting. "Of course. Maura, stand right there for a moment, dear."

The photographer flashed a soft smile and addressed the girl, who tried her best to put on a brave face as she stood alone. "Hi, sweetie. Do you want to be in the picture with your Mom?" Maura nodded, but waited for her mother to hold out her hands. Constance knelt down and put her arm around Maura's back, careful not to crush her curls. "Beautiful!" The photographer gushed as she sapped a few photos. "Beautiful like your Mama."

"You think I look like her?" The seven year old beamed, turning to face her mother with excitement.

"Absolutely. You even dressed alike." The photographer grinned as she lowered her camera. "I used to dress like my Mom, too." She turned her attention to Constance. "I can get one of just you, if you'd like."

"I think what you have will do. Thank you." She rubbed her hand in circles on Maura's back, who was still beaming from the photographer's compliment.

"She said I look like you, Mom." Her body thrummed with energy. She didn't hear it too often. Most often they guessed that Maura must take after her father, when in reality, she didn't look like him either.

Constance twirled a loosening ringlet around her fingers, meeting Maura's eyes with pride. "She did." She took her daughter's hand in hers. "It's time to head home."

"You aren't usually the type for nostalgia, Connie." Her husband's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, the newspaper clipping of her and a young Maura dropping back into the box. He sat at the table next to her, picking up a picture at random. "I don't remember this one." He passed it over to her, looking for an explanation. Here, Maura was around four, a handful of weeds in her hands, the strap of her yellow dress falling off her shoulder.

"I don't remember this one, either." It pained her to admit it, but she didn't remember a lot of the photos that were currently spread on their dining room table. "I think that the Nanny might have taken this." She moved the photo to the left and picked up another. Maura with bulky safety glasses on, her Halloween costume when she was nine. She laughed as she passed it to Arthur, making a note to put it aside.

"I don't remember this either." His voice was quiet as he sat it down.

"You aren't the only one that missed her life, Arthur." She picked up another unrecognizable picture, with a two-year-old Maura dancing toward the camera. "But we can be there for her now." She reached for that picture with the safety goggles, placing it in a small pile with similar photos.

"So what brought all this on?" Arthur had started gathering piles of photos, leaning back in the dining room chair as he looked at each one.

"Maura's friend, Jane, sent me an email. She needs pictures of Maura as a child, with a preference for 'especially geeky and sciency pictures, please'. I think she said something about a slideshow for a party." Jane was a frequent subject as she worked on reconnecting with her daughter. Maura was always describing some new joke Jane told, or filling her in on the latest Jane gossip. It was clear the woman was a big part of their daughter's life. "You would like Jane, I think. She's very direct, a straight shooter, but very protective and understanding of Maura. They're a good fit." She grabbed her husband's hand, shot him a knowing glance, and pulled the photo of Maura with a ribbon from the science fair off the top of his pile.

It seemed to take a moment for Arthur to get it, but when he did, his eyes widened and he lowered his pile of pictures. "Wait. You don't think…"

"I do."

His brows furrowed as he processed the information. "But she never showed any indication that she might be interested in females."

Constance let out a breath as she picked up her own pile. "I'm not sure that's true." At his puzzled expression, she continued. "Do you remember when Maura came home for her first Thanksgiving break? We were all sitting for dinner, and Maura was going on and on about Biology." She could picture it perfectly, Arthur at the head of the table with a journal open as they ate, while she tried to dab at a cranberry stain on the front of her shirt. Maura was looking in Arthur's direction as she spoke. "She was rattling off facts about all the species they had seen homosexual relationships in. Mammals, birds, fish, she had an example for just about everything. And I made a mistake." Arthur raised his eyebrows, his pile lowering completely as he gave her his full attention. "I asked her what she was trying to tell us. And it came out so harsh, I think she thought we wouldn't approve." Maura protected herself the only way she knew how. She shut down the topic, moving to something else, refusing to be swayed. "I have found out from a source that Maura experimented in college, and she may not have hated it."

"Is that source Jane?"

This made Constance chuckle. "No, Jane doesn't tell me anything Maura doesn't want me to know. Jane's mother told me."

"Wait, how does Jane's mother fit into all of this?"

Constance put her pile of photos down, focusing on her husband. "Angela lives with Maura. They have a good relationship." A relationship she was envious of. But she was trying to do better. "Every time I see her, I try to drop hints about how open-minded I can be, but she isn't picking up on them."

This had Arthur laughing, his baritone bouncing off the walls. "You can't drop hints with Maura, Connie. You have to ask her directly."

"Well how do you suggest I do that? 'Angela told me about your ex-girlfriend, Sam, and now I want to talk with you about her?'"

"Sam?" He stopped laughing, eyes wide, and grabbed her hand. "She talked about Sam, I remember that."

"She talked about Sam in very gender neutral terms. And then stopped, probably whenever they broke up."

They both took some time to take it all in. Constance started putting the photos she wasn't sending Jane back into the box. Arthur's voice made her pause. "Has she dated other women since then? I feel like I've heard about a few guys."

"I don't know."

Arthur started adding photos to the box, looking at a few of them along the way. "What makes you think she is interested in Jane that way?"

She took her time to answer, thinking about what she had noticed as they worked toward rebuilding their relationship. "Well, she trusts Jane completely. And they understand each other. Both drop everything for each other, Maura even cancelled a night out with me because Jane needed her. And you know what I learned from that Thanksgiving night all those years ago?"

"I think you'll tell me."

"I learned how to listen to Maura. Really listen. To watch her face when she talks, to figure out the meaning behind her words. And I'm telling you, she has deep feelings for Jane."

Her husband was silent, holding onto the last picture, his eyes fixated on the young woman speaking at her high school graduation. "So what's the next step?"

"Keep up with her, regain her trust. I hope one day she can talk to me the same way she can talk to Angela, or Jane." Arthur regarded her answer with a nod of his head. He rose from the table and walked toward the front door. "Where are you going?"

He returned a half minute later with his briefcase, and pulled his phone out of the side pocket. "I'm going to reach out. I want to be around when she tells you."

Maura didn't answer. She hadn't spoken to Arthur in years, and never wanted to talk to Constance about it. But he was making an effort, as was she. It gave her some hope that their relationship would mend along the way.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzles fanfic #my fic #not a couple #I'm super late posting these chapters wow

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aseriesofvariousevents · 4 years ago

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The Legend Series

The Legend Series is yet another series I received for Christmas years ago and never finished. This break, though, I finished it in what quite possibly could be a PR for time it took me to read a series. I started the books on a Friday evening and was done with the series by Sunday afternoon. Marie Lu wrote a riveting saga of strength with characters wholly unafraid to stand for what they believe in.

*SPOILERS*

The first book in the series, Legend, is a strong start, though not perfect. I’ve technically read this book twice before, once as a physical book and the other as an audiobook during a long car ride, so I may be overly critical of my reading this time around, since I don’t typically re-read books, but I found parts of the story to be unnecessary. This may just be coming from my perspective as an “older reader” instead of a young teen, but I found Marie Lu did the characters a disservice by making them 15. The age itself is fine hypothetically, but the emphasis on the romance at times, especially toward the end, felt forced between the two characters and I think, at this point in the series, it would’ve made more sense for them to be just friends. I thought the author wrote June’s loss of innocence surrounding the world she grew up in very well and I truly felt for the girl who had to watch her world crumble around her, bit by bit. I did appreciate the Les Miserables analogy throughout the story, with the June realizing that there may be more to Day than she thought. I also enjoyed Tess’s characters and, briefly, Metias’s, though I found Tess to be a bit one-dimensional at times. Overall, I found the book enjoyable and thought it was a good start to an interesting series.

Favorite Quote: Each day means a new twenty-four hours. Each day means everything's possible again. You live in the moment, you die in the moment, you take it all one day at a time.

I found Prodigy to be an improvement overall from the first book (not that the first book was inherently bad in any way), but I still had some gripes with some of the plots Lu chose to explore. I really enjoyed the politics aspect of this book, with Anden’s utter desperateness to succeed as a ruler and the double crossing of the Patriots by Razor, lying about who is funding this assassination. I had a feeling Razor was not the character he was believed to be for a while, but I never put two and two together that it was the Republic behind the scheme, but when Kaede explained everything, it all made sense, which I found to be a really cool plot point. Once again, the romance in this book frustrated me to no end. The romance between the deceased Metias and Thomas seemed more like a throwaway gay couple than anything of significance, especially since Lu did not explore their relationship as anything other than friendship in the first book, with Thomas even flirting with June (though it was implied that that was all a ruse to keep her safe, but I found that a feeble excuse). It was intended to make us feel worse for Thomas and the “sacrifice” he made for duty, but it instead just made me more sad for Metias. Tess’s sudden love for Day seemed super random as well, especially since they were basically surrogate siblings for each other for years, and, at the end, June’s and Day’s break-up of sorts seemed overly formal for being fifteen-year-olds who had only known each other for a month or so. Prodigy was definitely a page turner, but aspects were still frustrating to get through as a reader.

Favorite Quote: My heart is ripped open, shredded, leaking blood. I can't let him leave like this. We've been through to much to turn into strangers.

Champion was a satisfying conclusion to the series (though I haven’t read Rebel yet, the newest book in the series). Eden’s character was sweet and it was exciting to see him as an actual character for the first time, and not just a sick child that Day constantly thought about. I appreciated that the Tess romance thing got resolved in this book, but Anden’s love of June was creepy to me, considering the age difference, and in the epilogue, I found it weird, but not unexpected, that the two of them dated, though I was glad they broke it off. Day’s illness throughout this story seemed out of place as a plot point for me, especially since it took five years for it to really develop, but I was glad he wasn’t “perfectly cured”, after getting shot. I’m not sure if Lu meant one of those last few chapters as an homage to Les Miserables, but June’s repeated pleads of “let him live” are in the song “Bring Him Home”, which I found to be a nice Easter egg in the story, whether intended or not. June being the cure made sense in a way, but I don’t understand how she got better completely. It’s implied that the colonies gave her some sort of cure and took the virus to spread, but how they got hold of a cure seems fishy to me. In the epilogue, when June sees Metias’s grave and says that they’re finally the same age, I teared up a bit. I can’t imagine having to come to terms with effectively outgrowing someone lost far too young, and I thought the author described her grief really beautifully here.

Favorite Quote: That's why I'm sorry. I'm sorry because you shouldn't have to be everything to me. I had you, but I'd forgotten that I had myself too. It's a new feeling, something I'm getting used to.

Okay, I know this is an unpopular opinion but this was my favorite book in the series. Although I found June and Day more compelling characters than Eden and Day in this book, I thought this story was so much more poignant and had a much more complicated and interesting villain. Ross City was fascinating and the class divide present there held such poignant implications about technology and so much more that I thought it was a much more interesting and complex setting than the original trilogy. Eden and Daniel's (still weird to refer to him by that name) bickering was tiring at times, but their relationship as siblings was really touching and I thought it brought out an interesting perspective of both of the characters. I didn't love Pressa at the beginning, but toward the end, she was such an interesting character and I loved her and Eden's dynamic. The very ending of the book was so so so good and definitely made me tear up a bit. I was wary coming into the book that I would just find it a totally unnecessary addition to the series but I actually really enjoyed it and I thought it added to the overall story (though I did miss June's narrations).

Favorite Quote: There is nothing to figure out, there is no how or why. Sometimes things just happen.

*END OF SPOILERS*

The Legend Series started out as an interesting, updated take on Les Miserables, but quickly evolved into something much more. Though not my favorite series in the whole world, there was never a dull moment and I’m really looking forward to reading some of Lu’s other works, hopefully finding them as immersive as the world of the Republic!

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Books in Series: Legend; Prodigy; Champion; Rebel

Author: Marie Lu

BONUS REVIEWS

Life Before Legend is a duology of two short stories surrounding June and Day prior to the events in the Legend series. I much preferred June’s story to Day’s and found that her story had more heart to me and was more interesting. It was cute, but I found largely unnecessary, but still enjoyable nonetheless. Fun for lovers of the series!

Favorite Quote: Someday, someone out there will see you for the girl you really are. Someday, you’ll find someone who understands you.

Fun to see the epilogue of Champion from Day's perspective. Not a ton of new info but definitely a cute little story that fans of Legend will enjoy.

Favorite Quote: I loved you. I love you still. I want to be with you.

Really short but sweet nonetheless! It's nice to see June and Day together again with his memory mostly intact. Like the other Life After Legend story, didn't offer really any new info but it was exciting to see the duo interact once more, however briefly.

Favorite Quote: Your past is forever part of you, just as it is a part of me. And I loved that person, just as I love you.

Bonus Books: Life Before Legend; Life After Legend; Life After Legend II

#legend #prodigy #champion #marie lu #the legend series #certified nora review #four stars #life before legend #life after legend #life after legend ii #rebel

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blogging-time · 5 years ago

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Mealybugs

Send me a random word and I will attempt to write a Hurt/Comfort Fic containing/based on it. My Fic Masterlist

Word: Sick - Submitted by @3amthebitchinghour!

Summary: Roman couldn’t deny the fact that he’d found Patton’s seemingly unjustified concern to be somewhat endearing at first... but now things were quickly getting out of hand...

If only Roman had known why Patton felt so protective over him, it could have saved the pair oh-so much heartache.

Warnings: Mild illness/fever. Very brief Remus mention.

Pairings: Platonic Royality. (Can be interpreted as romantic.)

Word Count: 3,595

~ ~ ~

Roman couldn’t deny the fact that he’d found Patton’s seemingly unjustified concern to be somewhat endearing at first. Despite his well-sown fear of appearing both feeble and childish, there was just something about the dad Side’s ever-blossoming kindness that chipped away at the prince’s protective thorns until he was nothing more than a delicate collection of crimson rose petals in the botanist’s careful hands.

Perhaps to Patton, Roman was little more than a single clipped rose, powerless to fight off the tender love and care that he had deemed the prince beautiful enough to be deserving of. Still, Roman had enjoyed every last moment he’d spent simply being a part of his friend’s heavenly garden. Every day he’d let his roots embed themselves further and further into the soil until there was seemingly no moving him, and every day his friend would come by to perform his routine check-up.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you flourishing, kiddo!” his friend would chirp with a carefree smile.

But even the most attentive of botanists will one day see their flowers wilt. Even the most well-tended gardens can become victims of disease. And when this happens, perhaps one of the worst things you can possibly do for an already suffering rose is overwater it.

In the beginning, the whole thing had seemed as innocent as a timid field mouse cautiously poking its head up to greet the cold evening breeze. True, you typically wouldn’t want to see any type of rodent rummaging around in your garden, but there had just been something so careful and genuine in Patton’s eyes that had made the man seem far sweeter than any succulent berry he could possibly steal away.

Besides, Patton had been Roman’s faithful botanist, not some common thief. The prince knew there was nothing in this world that his friend would intentionally deprive him of. However, the intention doesn’t always match the outcome, and one simple observation was all it took to set off a rather unfortunate series of events.

~ ~ ~

“Oh, kiddo… you’re sick,” Patton had commented, concern dripping from his voice like melted ice-cream.

“Oh, Padre, you’re too kind,” Roman had joked back, hoping against all odds that he could bury the dad Side’s concern with his quick wit.

But Patton’s heart was not so easily satisfied.

“What in Thomas’ name do you think you’re doing out of bed? You should be resting.”

The prince sighed before answering, “It’s just a passing cold, Patty-cakes. There’s no need for you to be getting your buns in such a twist.”

“You leave my buns out of this, little mister,” Patton countered, taking a step forward and gently placing his hand on the ill man’s already damp forehead.

Looking back, perhaps the moment Roman instinctively let himself melt into the touch of the moral Side’s cool hand was the moment he’d sealed his fate.

The botanist’s persistent supervision began not long after that.

~ ~ ~

It had all started with a humble offering of chicken soup.

“Now you just lie here, Roman, and I’ll serve you up one of my very own Patton-patented pawsitively palatable poultry plates in just one moment!”

“Now look who’s paid a visit to the alliteration station!”

Then came the many cutesy looking coffee mugs, almost all of which contained some different variation of Healthline’s ‘Top 10 Healthiest Herbal Teas You Just Have to Try!’

“As the wise Uncle Iroh once said: Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights!”

“Padre… we’ve known each other for almost thirty years.”

“And yet this dashing prince simply never fails to fascinate me!”

And who could forget all of those simple yet tedious everyday tasks that Patton had offered to fulfil in Roman’s steed?

“Oh, most sweet and noble knight of mine… are you absolutely certain that this quest I have assigned to you won’t prove itself far too time-consuming or demanding?”

The moral Side chuckled faintly at that.

“My liege, I can assure you there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see to it that Master Thomas gets his chance to rehearse this afternoon, and that the last of the required props are picked up from Ye Olde Hobby Lobby in plenty of time for supper!”

“You have my eternal gratitude.”

“And you, my tissues.”

One could easily argue that the feverish prince had been entirely too willing to comply with the botanist’s generous wishes during those first two days, but how was he to know just how overbearing his friend would become over the course of the next seventy-two hours?

It had all started with Patton’s refusal to let Roman prepare his own toast.

“It’s just a simple slice of toast, Doctor Ramsay,” Roman bantered, “And if it’s any consolation I’ll promise not to cut the bread with my sword this time – Prince’s Honour!”

“Kiddo, you shouldn’t be handling food at all while you’re not well; that’s how you end up spreading germs.”

“To whom? Myself?”

“You never know, Roman. Please… just leave all of the cooking to me for now. I can have everything done within five minutes.”

Then came the many unnecessary yet incessant visits to Roman’s room that Patton would make throughout the day.

“Knock, knock!”

“Oh, I wonder who could possibly be there?” Roman drawled.

Patton giggled weakly at that.

“Just your happy-chappy pappy checking up on someone sappy!”

“Somehow I don’t think I’m the sappy one here, Patton.”

And how could Roman ever overlook the fact that he’d practically been put on strict bedrest for multiple days when there were so many other things he’d rather be doing to elevate his growing boredom?

“Listen, nurse… I understand you’re just trying to look out for me, but I can’t see any good reason as to why I shouldn’t be allowed to go and play ‘Mario Kart’ with the court jester. I feel like I’ve done nothing these past few days, and besides, my temperature barely even meets the criteria for a fever anymore.”

“First of all, we’ve already spoken about you referring to Virgil as the ‘court jester.’ Second of all, the reason your health has been improving is because you’ve taken the time to do nothing. Thirdly, Roman you’re far too competitive to be playing videogames right now. You’ll just end up psyching yourself up too much and making your headache so much worse.”

The prince had done his best to tolerate this sort of treatment for five whole days before allowing himself to finally admit the obvious: Patton wasn’t his knight in shining armour; he was the dragon-witch responsible for keeping him locked up in a tower.

He knew confrontation was inevitable if he wanted to see the outside world again anytime soon - Too long now had he been kept inside of a restrictive vase as opposed to an open flowerbed. Still, going into the discussion, Roman had downright dreaded dealing with the resistance he would surely be met with from his fellow Side. Of course, he knew the moral Side would never be mad at him for standing his ground, but if he didn’t want his friend to worry then he felt he’d still have to prepare a solid rebuttal.

The creative Side had braced himself for his moral counterpart’s troubling frown. He’d fully anticipated his friend’s most frequently recycled justifications and prepared what he considered to be an adequate counterargument for each. Heck, the prince had even taken the liberty of preparing an evidence casefile should the dad Side ever demand to see proof of his ongoing recovery.

“Behold! The piece of evidence that clearly contradicts the witness’ testimony!” Roman rehearsed, finger pointing rather dramatically at his bedroom mirror, “If you take a good look at this thermometer, you’ll see that my temperature read as 98.6F this morning. Mr Sanders, you claimed I couldn’t leave the room for as long as I have a fever, but this device clearly shows I now have a perfectly normal body temperature!”

Undoubtedly Roman had done enough preparation to ensure that even a man as tight-lipped as Logan couldn’t help but feel proud of his work. If only history had been kind enough to repeat itself, then perhaps the creative Side could have even found himself standing in the middle of another ‘Sherlock Holmes Fan-Fic’ type situation.

However, there had been one rather unfortunate series of developments that the prince had not fully fortified himself for – one that had proven itself to be far more regrettable than unlikely, and one that the prince would have no choice but to embrace as he failed to sway the conversation back in his favour.

For within mere minutes of opening his carefully planned, well-constructed and adequately researched argument, both the poor over-watered wilting rose, and his apparently not-so-attentive botanist had completely abandoned their cool demeanours in exchange for a far more contentious persona.

“Roman, please, just be reasonable,” the dad Side pleaded, arms outstretched in a halting motion as he took yet another step back towards Roman’s doorway.

“Oh, my stars!” the aforementioned Side proclaimed incredulously, “Do my ears deceive me? Or is that truly ‘The Hypocrite of the West Coast’ sincerely asking me to be more reasonable?”

Had the man standing before the prince been anyone but his favourite fatherly figure, then surely he would have pressed him on the long sigh he just let out.

“Kiddo, I understand why you’re upset, but you know I’d never try to deter you like this if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary. I hate seeing you cooped up in here just as much as you do!”

“Then why won’t you set me free?”

“Because I believe-”

“Oh yes, because you believe it’s the right thing to do, don’t you? That’s always what it seems to come down to at the end of the day! Everything in the entire Thomas-sphere has to revolve around what Morality thinks is right and wrong! Honestly, what have the rest of us ever done to deserve a seat at the table?”

The moral Side’s entire body seemed to tense at that, his breath hitching as though he were trying to force some unsavoury words back down his own agitated throat. Tears were now threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, yet his gaze remained almost perfectly fixed.

“Roman…”

“No! I don’t want to hear it, Pat! I’m sick and tired of listening to what you have to say!”

“You’re sick and tired, full stop, Roman! Please, you should really just go back to bed while I-”

“While you do what, Patton? Are you planning on tucking me back into bed again? Perhaps you could infantilise me even further by reading me another bedtime story, or- Oh! I know! Why don’t you go and prepare me yet another bowl of your infamous chicken soup? I’m not sure the first couple-hundred bowls have made me entirely anti-poultry yet!”

Undoubtedly, hunched up shoulders and pointedly narrowed eyes weren’t a particularly good look on the usually oh-so-cheery dad Side, but he simply couldn’t help the fact that his composure was shrivelling up so fast.

“If you really want to get me out of your hair so badly, then why won’t you just let me take care of you? The sooner I can get you healthy again, the sooner I can leave you to your own devices!”

“Because it’s not your job to take care of me, padre!” the prince snapped back, this time sounding utterly exasperated. “I’m not some delicate little flower that you should feel obligated to attend to! You’re not my designated botanist! You… You know what you are? What you really are, Pat? You’re just some aggravating little mealybug that’s latched onto my leaves that now adamantly refuses to let go! You’re sucking the life out of me, Pat, and it’s causing me to wilt! How on Earth do you expect me to stand it?”

With those words, the last of the moral Side’s composure finally slipped away.

“I don’t know, Roman! How do you expect me to cope with losing Creativity again?”

The words had come barrelling out of his mouth before he could even think to stop himself, and the tears don’t fall too far behind.

The room fell completely silent in an instant, bar the sound of the dad Side’s sombre hiccups.

Try as Patton might, he genuinely couldn’t help the feeling that he was being cruelly suffocated and torn apart from the inside. It felt as though someone had forced him to swallow an entire packet of dandelion seeds, and now the unwelcome plant was blooming, stems sprouting painfully from the pit of his stomach before forcing its way up through his throat, and finally bursting out dramatically from his silently screaming mouth. It seemed that no matter how hard the botanist had tried to suppress this unruly weed, the truth was always destined to come to light in some horrific way.

“Patton…?” Roman hesitantly asked, his previous shouting voice having been replaced by an almost-whisper.

The man in question only let a single choked sob escape before continuing to speak…

“…He was just like you, you know…” he blurted out, voice sounding unnaturally strained from trying to suppress his own emotions. His eyes were now utterly transfixed on the floor, almost as if he were willing it to magically open up and swallow him whole.

The prince audibly gulped as he mentally prepared himself for the question he’d inevitably have to ask, regardless of whether or not he already knew the answer.

“Who was, Pat?”

Another choked sob escaped; this time followed by a long, shaky, uneven breath. The question seemed to hang in the air far too uncomfortably for far too long as one Side watched the other pathetically curl in on himself.

“The King,” Patton eventually rasped out, words slicing through the tension in the air so swiftly and so grotesquely they almost seemed to mimic the actions of a rusty lawn mower blade.

Roman could practically hear the machine whirring around inside his head.

“He told us all it was just a cold – That he’d be perfectly fine if we just left him alone for a few hours…”

“Patton…”

“He told us all to just go out and play… He promised us he’d come and join us as soon as he was feeling better… At the time none of us even realised that would be our last chance to run around in the garden together… Our last chance to marvel at the early Spring flowers together… Our last chance to weave intricate little flower crowns together with the King… and so we missed it… We missed our final chance to say ‘goodbye’ and then he was just… gone…”

As the well finally overflooded, allowing for two long streams to suddenly pour down the older Side’s fiercely flushed face, the young prince swore he could feel his own still beating heart immediately split in two.

“Patton,” he tried again, “Surely you don’t blame yourself for any of that. I highly doubt there’s anything you could have done to prevent such a fate from befalling the old Creativity – and even if there had have been, you couldn’t have possibly known any better!”

“I could have been by his side!” Patton snapped back, punctuating his words by gripping his upper arms even tighter. “I knew one of my friends was sick and I did nothing to help him! Worse than that, Roman, I left him alone to play hopscotch.”

“Darling, it’s not your fault for having such faith in an old friend. He was the one who told you to give him some space! You were only doing what was asked of you!”

A sudden wave of realisation swiftly struck down the prince’s confidence the moment he heard those words aloud.

“Oh, my dear little heart…” he cooed as he watched his shaking friend visibly shrink. “I’m so sorry, Pat… I didn’t mean to-”

“No… No, you don’t have anything to apologise for…” Patton sniffled as he tried to stand up properly. “I… I understand I may have been a bit… overbearing these past few days, but I…” He was getting choked up again. “I… I just couldn’t risk losing Creativity again… I couldn’t risk losing you. I love you so much, kiddo, and I genuinely don’t know what I would do if I ever-”

Roman decided to silence that oncoming tangent by abruptly pulling his spiralling friend into a warm embrace. Perhaps the experience would have been a little more pleasant had his own body not decided to start trembling mere moments ago, but none of that seemed to matter as the dad Side slowly melted into his soothing touch.

“Do you want me to let you in on a special little secret, padre?”

The dad Side merely nodded his response into the crook of the prince’s neck, causing the slightly calmer man to let out a faint chuckle.

“The truth is… when I first appeared here in the mindscape, I really didn’t know much at all about… well… anything! Sure, I had a decent enough hold on what sort of things inspired Thomas, what stories he wanted to tell and how he wanted to go about telling them… but when it came to Thomas’ internal ‘Breakfast Club’ I was almost completely at a loss! By all accounts your quizzical looks should have made me feel like a Roman gladiator thrown haphazardly into a colosseum without so much as a broken stick to defend myself!”

“I’m sorry if any of us startled you…” came a muffled response.

“But that’s the thing, Pat,” Roman recounted with a kind smile, “None of you ever did… In fact, from the very first moment I ever laid my dazzling eyes upon all of your startled yet adorable – if not slightly nerdy – faces, I honestly never felt anything but… safe, secure… welcome, even! Now I know that may not make much sense at first given how little I actually knew you all at the time, but I happen to have my own little working theory as to why I felt that way. Would you like me to share it with you?”

That question was apparently enough to make the dad Side look up from where he had been nuzzling his tear-soaked face into his friend’s now admittedly rather damp shoulder. The sight of his puffy eyes alone was enough to make Roman want to tear off his own crimson rose petals and use them as an overly extravagant tissue on the botanist’s grief-stricken visage.

Alas, a small piece of his velvety sash would have to suffice for now.

“Please,” Patton tentatively begged as the prince carefully wiped away at his cheeks.

“I reckon it’s because the Creativity you once knew never truly left. Even if I didn’t maintain the vast majority of his memories, I vehemently believe that all of those otherwise inexplicable feelings were the by-product of him having once loved all of you. He never felt betrayed… He never felt lonely… He never felt as though you let him down, padre, because it’s abundantly clear didn’t.”

“But how can you be so sure his feelings never changed?”

“I don’t know, my own little Patton-ted Piglet… How can you be so sure they ever did?”

Something in the moral Side’s expression seemed to change in that moment… Something subtle yet unmistakable that let Roman know he’d finally gotten through to the man.

It was only a matter of time before a contented smile had taken place on both of their blushing faces.

“I suppose I never really thought of it that way…” Patton sheepishly admitted.

“Yet you’d dare to entertain the thought that your dashing prince would ever leave you?”

The creative Side had fully intended for his sentiment to come across as light-hearted. Rather unfortunately for him, it appeared his words only served to make the dad Side feel more guilty.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that earlier, kiddo… and I’m sorry if my paranoia ever made me act unfairly towards you… I guess I just let my parental instincts get the better of me sometimes…”

“I’ll consider it all water under the bridge so long as you promise not to tell Teach I had to take a leaf out of his book today,” Roman joked, earning a stifled burst of heartfelt giggling from his now slightly more chipper and upbeat friend.

When the laughter eventually subsided, the dad Side decided to take a step back and get a better look at Roman, consequently breaking the embrace as he did so.

“I can’t tell if you acting all logical is supposed to be a sign that your health is improving or deteriorating,” he playfully teased.

“Well whichever one of the two it is, I just hope all of this exposure you’ve had to my sorry-self over these past few days hasn’t been enough to infect you.”

“Oh, Roman, I hate to tell you this, but I was already sick,” Patton merrily admitted after only a brief pause.

“What?” the prince dramatically exclaimed, voice suddenly sounding perturbed. “Oh, padre… Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? We need to get you tucked into bed with some medicine and a bowl of chicken soup right away!”

Although Morality had tried to contain their mildly inappropriate giggling, he simply couldn’t help but be amused by the irony behind Creativity’s words.

“I’m afraid there won’t be any need for that,” he giddily reassured, “After all, doctors say there’s still no known cure for love-sickness!”

~ ~ ~

General Tag-List:

@lunamay2006, @not-so-innocent-bi-sander, @saphael-malec102, @anastasialestina

Note: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a fic, so this tag-list may be a little outdated. If at any point you want to be added/removed from my tag-list then feel free to let me know!

Secondary Note: I may come back and edit the ending a little at a later date. This fic had been sitting in my WIP’s for far too long, so I’m worried it may have come across as rushed due to the fact I really wanted it to be completed.

As always, feedback is much appreciated! I was very out of practice and sleep-deprived here, so I’m sure I’d benefit a lot from constructive criticism! I hope you’re all having a fan-der-tastic day!

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Royality #Platonic Royality #My Fic #Reblogs > Likes

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beerecordings · 5 years ago

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Do you mind explaining a little more of seven seven Henrik’s backstory? I checked the tag, but tumblr only gave me two posts for it -River

yeah, i’d love to! i haven’t talked about him much, this au comes mostly off the top of my head and then occasionally yanks me down into more complex scenarios, which i enjoy a lot.

okay this is long and honestly it’s a horror story so i’m going to put it under a read more. careful it is creepy and there’s a lot of talk of blood and stalking. seriously it’s a little messed up i used to be scared as hell of the Pooka when i was a kid lol. the short story, if you don’t want to read, is that a creature called a Pooka chased him out of Germany and nearly made him a prisoner, but Jackie and Marvin saved him!

but anyway yeah so Henrik is the seventh son of a seventh son, like I’ve mentioned, which pretty much means he A) is bizarrely lucky, impossibly lucky, B) can sense some magical activity and tell when things are supernatural even if they’re disguised to other humans, either seeing their real nature or just being able to tell that the thing in front of him is, on some level, not quite human, and C) a lot of people or creatures who are clued in to the mythological world might want to hurt him :( there are a lot of myths (Henrik doesn’t know how true they are) about how his hair or skin or blood could be used for really powerful spells or luck talismans or how even just keeping him around could increase luck or magical energy. to be fair, this does seem to be true in the households he’s lived in, as his family was really lucky with a lot of stuff when he was with his wife and kids, and recently his friends have been really lucky. he doesn’t consider this real luck at all, though - he’s constantly paranoid that something will come to kill him for a ritual or hurt him to get something out of him or just lock him away as a lucky charm for the rest of his life.

and he has good reason to be paranoid after what happened! A couple years ago, he caught the eye of a Pooka, a nightmare shape-shifter hardly more intelligent than an animal and generally not classified at the level of a human the way a Selkie or higher spirit or satyr or something like that would be. (okay there are some legends that make Pooka clever tricksters who come after bad people and others that say they’re even friendly but in the stories i was always told, Pooka were monsters and you did NOT want to be targeted by one, because they never let their victims go and enjoyed tormenting innocent humans for reasons never explained to me). Henrik still doesn’t know exactly what it wanted with him, because it never spoke. It’s just one night he woke up at the witching hour and sat up in bed beside his wife and outside his window there was a donkey.

but it was horrible, it wasn’t… it wasn’t normal. The Pooka takes a lot of different forms. usually a huge black dog, or a huge black bull, or a huge black hare, or a huge black-haired man, or the donkey. And the donkey, to Henrik, was the worst of them. It would be the body and head of a donkey, but it would stay on its hind legs like a man and wear a coat, and there would be something in his eyes far too clever for a donkey - an ability to watch, an ability to be interested in him, an ability to want to hurt him. That first night he thought it was a sleep paralysis demon. He held stock-still and stared at the blank yellow eyes with the rectangle pupils on either side of its head and wondered why it seemed to stare directly at him, as though hungry. It reached up a hand - grey and covered in fur, but the hands of a man - and pushed open his bedroom window.

His wife woke up and asked him why he was shaking so hard and when he whirled around to look at her, the Pooka disappeared again. He had to stay home from work the next day he was so afraid, and even though he and his wife had been having a lot of problems lately, she pulled him right into her arms and stroked his hair and let him cry because he was just so terrified. she’d never seen him that scared. his vision was telling him that thing was real even though he’d never heard of anything like it and wanted it to be a nightmare.

and the thing was, he was the only one who seemed to be able to see it.

He kept trying to go to work as usual, providing for his kids and looking after his family, but the Pooka began to get closer and closer. he would get on the subway and look up and the Pooka would be a dog sitting across from him, staring at him with donkey’s eyes, bigger than he was, big enough that its head touched the top of the subway and pressed its ears down. or he would be in the middle of an intensive surgery, and suddenly the window would open, and this hare the size of the operating table, with the yellow eyes of the donkey and all its horrible ribs jutting out, would crawl into the room and stare at him while he worked, sweating and trembling so hard he could barely perform, though he sometimes didn’t have a choice depending on how serious the surgery was and how far he was into it, the hare staring at him the whole time and just breathing. or the huge black-haired man, donkey-eyed and twice his size, stepping into his home while his wife and kids were all asleep, stepping over to him, its boots thudding across his dining floor, leaving blood in their wake, its yellow eyes fixed on him as he shook, shattering a coffee mug, trying to make his voice work, to say something like “what are you? what do you want with me?” but it never answered, it never spoke, just stepped closer and closer, fixed on him, staring at him, and then, for the first time, it reached out with its sausage-sized fingers, and it touched his fucking throat, and he felt blood come spilling out of his mouth for reasons he still doesn’t understand, and it swiped up the blood with its thumb and began to drink.

it turned to go after a drop of it, but it wasn’t satisfied.

Henrik, understandably, just about lost his mind with fear after that. he had seen the bull standing over his wife and kids enough times by then that he knew none of them were safe, and besides, no one believed him. his wife thought he was having a nervous breakdown or developing a psychotic illness or something because even though she knew about what he was, the story was just too ridiculous, too insane, and whoever heard of a donkey like that anyway? so he ran away. didn’t even think about it or mean for it, really, didn’t have time to leave them notes, to tell them that he loved them, just… ran and hoped the Pooka would leave them all alone. but it just kept following him. and now he was all along, and it started to get bolder.

it sat beside him on trains destined for countries he picked at random. it swam across the channel with him when he ran to Ireland. in his hotel room, it stood over him, and when he ran to sleep on the streets instead, terrified and exhausted, still it followed him, the donkey towering over him, the yellow eyes fixed on him, and it started to eat his blood whenever it wanted to, touching his throat and making it come welling up and drizzling from his mouth again while he was paralyzed by the strange power come over him, frozen still by the Pooka except for tears running down his face. he tried to run away again, but now, he found, it was no longer just watching, it would grab him and force him to stay in the hotel room, or snatch him off the streets while he searched for any help and drag him to the forest to drain him, and then it began pulling him deeper and deeper into the forest every time and letting him wander for less and less time, and then one day it brought him a big cup of milk in its horrible donkey hands, and he realized, in a moment that nearly killed him, that it was going to make him a prisoner for the rest of his life. but he didn’t know what to do. he’d been hunted for months. he was exhausted and terrified and exhausted of being terrified. there was no way to get free of it. in his dreams every night the Pooka made him see himself sat on the back of the great black bull, clinging on for dear life, blood running from his mouth, unable to throw himself off. it felt like a dream. in retrospect, it’s like it didn’t even happen to him, just like he watched it happen to someone else. it was extremely traumatic for him and he knew he was going to die and gave up on finding help.

until, of course, a little star spirit who loves to explore happened upon him. Marvin had never met a Pooka before and he was very curious when he noticed its spirit!! he went zipping off into the woods all excited and fascinated, but then he came upon the little man curled up beneath an outcropping in a worn doctor’s coat, shaking and passed out, anemic and freezing and very ill with the toll all this took on him. Marvin has rarely been so distressed in all his life. Henrik woke up to a very sweet white cat kissing at him and keeping him warm. he let Henrik hug him and pet him and mumble to him about dying and wanting to go and Germany and his family and blood from his mouth for a long time before he heard the Pooka come and decided this was too much for him to deal with alone. he zipped off to go get Jackie, but not before he saw exactly what the Pooka had been doing to the stranger. Jackie was horrified, of course, and finally here was someone who actually had an idea of what this creature Henrik had been ranting about to everyone he could think of actually was. In the end, it’s his luck that brought Henrik to Ireland, the homeland of the Pooka, where someone might know where it was and where a friendly star might wander onto him. they found Henrik silver spurs like in the stories Jackie had always been told as a kid and the next time he dreamed, Henrik could dig the silver spurs into the side of the Pooka and make it scream, a horrible shrieking noise like a half-dozen animals being slaughtered that has never left Henrik’s head since. The Pooka tried to come back and punish him a couple times, but Jackie and Marvin protected him and eventually it was killed with silver because, while Jackie rarely kills anything at all, it was clear that it wouldn’t stop coming for Henrik, perhaps having developed some kind of an addiction to him.

It took months for Henrik to believe it was really over. Jackie kept him in his home the whole time - apart from a brief sojourn to the hospital once or twice, since Henrik was seriously ill - and nursed him back to health with Marvin’s help. for the first couple weeks, Henrik was just silent, wrapped up in Jackie’s bedsheets staring at the wall, blue with blood loss and illness and a certain sort of grief that will never go away, letting Jackie and Marvin feed him and comfort him. eventually he started to get better, but he never left Jackie’s house. only place he really feels safe now. he has, however, set up a secret little clinic just a few blocks away, where mythological creatures in need of help can come to a doctor who has some understanding of what they are and real expertise, too. Between him, Jackie, and Marvin, they started picking up some pretty expansive knowledge about mythological creatures and he’s learned how to treat so many different things!! It keeps his life really interesting, especially now that he’s developing a national reputation among the other folk. and it’s how Chase and Jamie both came to be a part of their family!

What happened really haunts him, but luckily he has happened upon the best group of friends he could ever ask for and he has a great support system :) so that’s where he’s at!! that was very long but yeh!!!! i am filled with love of him!!

#blood tw #stalking tw #mythology au #seven seven henrik #schneeplestein #horror tw

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