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greensaplinggrace · 4 years ago

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honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

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sinnamonrasinslut · 4 years ago

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The Ease With Which We Hurt [I] ICorpse Husband x Fem!ReaderI

A/N: You guys. I have never simultaneously loved AND hated a piece that I wrote. I really don’t know how I feel about this, but I promised myself last year that I wouldn’t overthink my writing, so here we are. This is part one of most likely four, but we’ll see about that. Thank you to everyone in my inbox who gave me ideas to turn this into a multi chapter fic! They’re all coming, I promise :)

SYNOPSIS: Corpse loves her, she loves Corpse. But both of them are too dumb to realize it, and too afraid to admit it.

It started, like most good things in his life, out of the blue.

He met her three years ago. Well, not met, but befriended her three years ago when her podcast was just taking off. He remembers sending her a DM about how great her work was, remembers her being gracious in her praise of his own narrations after and he remembers talking to her well into the night until she fell asleep. The rest, to Corpse, is history.

And yet, all he knows of her is a voice, a name, and the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. she chooses to wear a mask every time they FaceTime, just for the formality of the entire ‘faceless’ situation. She’s told him she thinks it’s ironic, how she feels like he knows her inside out, and she’s still afraid to show him her face. It’s not like corpse can blame her. She doesn’t even know his name, let alone what he looks like, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t filed him away as some no face creep by this point.

But she hasn’t. She’s still here, after three years of being her friend, and almost a year of seeing her eyes and convincing himself that she’s his friend, damnit, she’s still here. It’s already a lot more than he can ask for.

He’s been holding himself back from falling in love. Or rather, he’s been in love for as long as he can remember, but he's been adamant on denying it; because he knows how this goes. It’s never gone well for him in the past. And he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s afraid. But sometimes, she tells him things that make his heart break, just out of the realization of how absolutely fucking stupid he's being, holding back from her.

He’s convinced that when he dies, she’s going to be the light at the end of his tunnel. That heaven means nothing more to him than a place in her world, however small, however insignificant, as long as he gets to see her eyes for the rest of eternity.

Every part of corpse tells him that it's love. But he tries to push it away, suppress his own feelings till he's nothing but a walking contradiction, overflowing with voices that only say her name.

But he’s tired. And he's scared. Because he’s been down that road before, opened himself up to people who haven’t liked what they saw and left with pieces of him he’s not sure how to tape back. He’s unsure if he's willing to let her try.

So, he settles for a small corner of her world, a little piece of her existence that gives him life, and every time he talks to her, hands flailing as she animatedly tells another story, he pushes the yearning to the back of his head till it crawls down and clings to his windpipe, unsure and immeasurable, and he can’t speak anymore without choking. But then she says things that make his heart jump into his throat, and then he’s choking but for entirely different reasons.

“What would you do if I was gone?”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Well, he does, a little bit, but his brain isn’t taking over every part of his body trying to convince him he’s unwanted, so he doesn’t mean it like that. He’s only curious, maybe in need of a little reassurance. And nobody does reassurance better than her.

She doesn’t say anything for a very long moment. Corpse knows the gist of her impending answer but the pause still blooms unnecessarily in his chest. But it’s not like they haven’t done this before.

“I’d write about you.”

“Huh?”

She only huffs a laugh at his confusion. She pulls a blanket closer around her and props up her phone to rest against what he assumes is a wall.

“You’re not easy to forget, Corpse,” her voice is soft, truthful without flattery, provides comfort without justification. “if you were gone, I’d write about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s the least I’d need to cope.”

It’s not what he thought he’d hear, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that it’s exactly what he needed. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

“Besides,” she continues, hair falling in her face as she adjusts the blanket, “there is no place for me in a world without you in it.”

And he physically feels his heart stop and clench in his chest. The thought of meaning this much to anyone, to her in particular, is more than he knows how to handle. So, he doesn’t follow that up with a quip, no teasing laughter, no suggestive, exaggerated winks that only he can see. He only lets himself bask in the warmth of her honesty, lets her smile at him in that way only she does, the way that makes him freeze and ache and crumble.

He chooses not to talk after that, settles for listening to her tell stories about her childhood. Her voice is the purest thing he’s ever heard, he’d hear her talk till the world ended if he could, and the sweet lilt of her voice lulls him to sleep hours after she’s hung up the phone.

He doesn’t get to talk to her for almost two weeks after that. He misses her a little, but he keeps that to himself, and instead, tags her under dumb twitter memes and sends her pictures of cats that he’s saved specifically for times like these, and another video of two geckos fighting on a tree captioned ‘u and me’ .

There’s no place for me in a world without you in it.

The words wrap around his ribs like a noose, tightening by the second. Some days, when his heart is fast enough to beat out of his ribcage, it grounds him just as much as it hurts. But when she’d said it to him, it passed through him like a train wreck, distorting all semblance of control he’d convinced himself he had.

He knows it’s ridiculous, but he loves her. She’s only a voice through his phone and eyes on his screen and he has no clue what the rest of her looks like, but he’d be damned if he lets himself deny it one more time. He loves her. And that’s the most terrifying thought he’s ever entertained.

It doesn’t take long after that realization takes root, for him to send her a picture. He doesn’t let himself think too much about it. Taking pictures of himself is still new to him, but he tries his best. Don't think about it too much, he reminds himself, and unsurprisingly, it's her voice in his head that does all the soothing. He captions it something stupid, more out of habit than anything else (my hair makes me look like Dora the exploraH), with his name across his forehead and ‘Dora’ in brackets beside it.

Momentarily, he wonders if he’s ever asked her if she even wants to see his face. (He has, and he distantly remembers her agreeing as long as he’s comfortable with it.)

He hits send before he has the chance to stop and think.

Then he waits.

Her response is quicker than he’s prepared for, her name flashing across the facetime request on his phone. He’s giggling before he even picks it up.

“CORPSE, WHAT THE FUCK!”

For a very long moment, they just stare, taking each other in. This is his endgame, corpse thinks, he’s never going to need to show anyone his face after this, nothing, no one will matter as much.

With a jolt, he realizes that she’s not wearing her mask. He can see her, all of her, and that on its own should be enough to take him out.

And then she smiles.

If there was any doubt in his mind before about how head over heels he is, she’s taken it out of his mind and stomped it to the ground. He’s not the poet in this friendship, but he’s assured he could write entire paragraphs about the way she smiles. And he tells her exactly that.

“I’m curious to see how that would fit with fine lass nice ass cat ears and she uwu,” she teases, eye twinkling with mirth, “but I'm sure you’ll figure it out.”

He’s both amazed and amused at how quickly they go from fawning to bantering. But perhaps that’s the thing about her that feels so familiar.

“I will write a song about you baby, don’t tempt me.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a confession,” he shrugs, suddenly shy, unsure of where to lead with this. Thankfully, she interjects before he has to say anything else.

“That’s an awfully bold confession for a man called Corpse.”

“I’m also awfully alive for a man called Corpse, but you don’t see me complaining.” Awfully alive and not enough husband, he wants to say, but he keeps that to himself.

“You complain about being alive everyday, Mister Husband,” she counters and Corpse groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“I say that to you in confidence,” he grits out, playfully glazing at her.

“You also tell about a million people on stream, I’m not special,” she laughs.

“You are very special to me.” His voice is soft, shy, almost afraid to tell her the things he’s saying, “I did say I’d write a song about you. Pretty special if you ask me.”

She hums, taking a huge gulp of water and nodding enthusiastically.

“Correct, me, the cat girl and the e girl. What’s the next single, Corpse? Faceless Girls are ruining my life?”

“You’re a rascal,” he chides as a familiar warmth settles around his heart, and grips.

“It is one of my finer qualities, yes.”

Distantly, some part of his brain registers that this is the first time he’s seen her, but there is no sense of hesitation in his head about her. It feels just like it always has, with her on the phone saying the silliest things, and him responding with equal enthusiasm. This is the way they’ve always been.

While she talks, hands animatedly moving around, Corpse allows himself a small moment of reprieve to think. He knows he loves her, but he wonders briefly if it’s too soon to be in love with her (he concludes that probably it is, given that she remains unaware of his feelings, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter)

Because while Corpse loves her, he’s sure he doesn't know how to love her. Doesn’t know her favourite flowers even if he knows her coffee order by heart, doesn’t know her ideal date even if he’s memorized every poem she loves.

The meanest parts of his brain tell him she deserves better, and he knows they’re wrong. But a small part of him can’t help but dwell. He’d rather have her and her unnecessary hand movements in his life as his friend than not at all. So he pushes away his feelings for another day, and just listens to her talk.

Corpse is perfectly content with that.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #the ease with which we hurt #coco writes #friends to lovers #we love that trope in this household #if you reblog with stuff in the tags i WILL read it and cry #also if u reblog it with ur favourite part quoted i will cry #i just will cry thats a personality trait lmao #Sometiems i feel like the continuity of his chapter feels rushed #but idk i dont have the patience to fix it so i wont

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colormeyondublue · 4 years ago

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First fic ever! Honest feedback time!

This is my first ever fan fiction and I want your complete honesty. If you love it, great! If you hate it, that’s totally fine! If you have any tips or suggestions for a first time writer let me know!

Secrets: Yondu x Reader

A/u where Yondu survived Ego, and the guardians are still aboard the quadrant....

For a couple months now, Mantis could tell something was wrong with her best friend. You were always so cheery and up-beat. You would never tell her what was bothering you, no matter how much she asked. This was completely unlike you because you always told Mantis everything. She wanted to know what was making you feel and act so weary and tired. You seemed so stressed and the others started to notice too. Anytime someone would ask what was bothering you, you would just shrug it off and make something up. But the excuses were getting old.

“Come on y/n, I bet you would feel so much better if you just got it off your chest.” Peter poked you in the side as he bugged you about it for what felt like the millionth time. “Plus, I’m just super curious now. You’ve been sulking for weeks.”

“Just leave me alone Peter!” You snapped. You winced at your words and then took a deep breath. He was just trying to help. It’s not his fault you felt this way. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just dealing with something personal right now, and I would prefer to do it on my own.”

You heard those signature clunking boots come through the doorway behind you, “Do what on yer own?” Yondu asked with his hands on his hips and a quizzical look on his face.

Yondu and Kraglin were still hanging out on the Quadrant with the Guardians since the events with Ego. They were in the process of getting a new ship and a new crew after Yondu blew their old crew to all hell.

“Nothing. It’s absolutely nothing, Yondu.” You were irritated. Yondu was the one person you didn’t want to push away, but you felt like you had no other choice. You tried to push past him and leave the room, but his large hand caught your shoulder.

He looked you dead in the face, and you turned your eyes from him. You couldn’t keep your knees in check if you caught those crimson eyes for too long. His voice was low, “Hey, we don’t do solo missions and we don’t work alone. Ya got something ya have to do, ya take someone with ya. Ya already know that.”

“This isn’t about some mission.” You kept your stare at the floor between your feet as you continued. “I’m not going anywhere, just - leave me alone.” You pulled your shoulder away and quickly returned to your bunk.

You walked into the cabin that you and Mantis shared, throwing yourself onto the bottom bunk in a huff. You let out a long sigh with your face in the pillow. You were too emotional to think straight. You’ve never felt so many conflicting emotions at once and it was driving you insane! If you didn’t vent soon, you’d explode. Nervousness, happiness, guilt...the list goes on. Nervous, because Yondu gives you butterflies to which the likes couldn’t be described. Happy, because you get to spend every single day around him...but on the other hand you feel guilty because you don’t want to put anyone in a weird position. He’s Basically Peter and Kraglin’s dad! His age didn’t bother you one bit, but you certainly didn’t want to ruin any family dynamics going on around the ship. You could accept the truth in your head, but saying it out loud was a whole other matter. The truth was, you had fallen in love. Stupid, annoying, nerve wracking, inconvenient, love. Everything about this situation was so messed up.

Part of you wanted to just give in and fall straight into the arms of the man you’d fallen for. The other half of you was screaming at you to keep your mouth shut. So far, the screaming side of you has been winning. You honestly didn’t think he would return your feelings, and you genuinely thought he was way out of your league. He was brave, strong, smart, cunning, and downright gorgeous. You were short, clumsy, a little curvy, and the weakest of the team. The only thing you had going for you (and the only reason you were able to join the team) was your incredible shooting abilities. Back on Terra, you were super talented with firearms. The transition from guns to blasters wasn’t too bad. You knew Terran guns inside and out. You were definitely a good shot, and you weren’t afraid of anything - except maybe your feelings for the Centaurian on board. Over your time with the guardians you got really good with intergalactic weapons, with some help from Rocket of course.

“Y/n..........Y/N!”

You jumped out of your thoughts, sat up in your bunk and looked frantically at Mantis who was eagerly trying to get your attention. “Are you okay?” She asked with a curious, yet concerned, expression on her face.

“Ugh, yes, Mantis. I’m fine. For the thousandth time, I’m just fine.”

“I don’t believe you. Something is wrong, and you leave me no choice. You mean a great deal to me, and I need to help. I am very sorry, but I feel I have to do this.”

Before you could get another word in, Mantis had her hands gripped around your wrist. Just as you began to pull away, her antennae glowed their bright yellow light and her eyes burst open to look at you.

“Mantis, please, you are my best friend in this entire galaxy. Probably in the entire universe - you cannot tell anyone!”

She stared at you, wide eyed. She couldn’t believe what she felt. So many emotions at once. It was such a surprise! Regardless, she was very excited for you.

“Y/n, this is so exciting! It is happy news. But, also confusing. You feel so many things. Why must this be a secret?”

“Because!” You shouted, a little louder than you intended. “Mantis, this isn’t what you think. If this gets around it could jeopardize the entire team. He may not feel the same way I do, and that would be a humiliating disaster. Look, if it helps, all you have to do is wait until Yondu and Kraglin are able to leave with their own ship and crew, and then once that happens you can shout it to the stars. Deal?”

A low, raspy voice travels through the doorway interrupting your conversation, “so, what happens when Kraglin and I get our own ship and leave?”

You and mantis snap your heads toward the door with nervous expressions. Yondu’s presence and voice sends a chill down your spine. Butterflies are bursting into a frenzy in your stomach. You both just stare at him, completely unsure of what to say.

“Well?!” He boomed. “Why ‘ave ya been acting so fidgety ‘round me lately? And wha’s sis ‘bout waiting fer me and Kraglin ta leave?”

Mantis looked at you, then back at Yondu, and back at you again. “Y/n, you know I care for you very much, and you are my best friend, but I think this is something you two need to talk about.” With that, she ducked past Yondu and fled the room.

You stood up and yelled at her as she ran, “THANKS BESTIE! I’LL GET RIGHT ON THAT!”

You turned to look at Yondu, who was still sporting that classic scowl he wears all the time.

“What?” You snapped. You seriously hated being so crass with him, but building walls was your specialty, and it was the only way to protect this weird little family you’d grown to love. If Yondu ever found out how you felt, it could all come crashing down. Not only could you lose him, but everyone else too.

He eyed you suspiciously, “Ya know, I only known you for a coupl’a months, and you don’t seem right. Mind tellin’ me what that’s ‘bout?”

“No.” You said flatly. “I have nothing to tell.” Heat was rising to your cheeks as you lied right through your teeth.

“Ya lyin’. You’s a bad liar ya know it?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Fine, if ya won’t tell me, I guess I’ll go pry the information I need outta poor little ol’ Mantis.”

“Leave her out of this! She doesn’t know anything.”

“Ah, so there is somethin’? I knew you was lyin’.”

You began to get defensive. “Yondu! UGH just stay out of it! I don’t need to tell you anything! I don’t want to tell you anything.”

Yondu turned his back on you as if he were going to leave. You felt a quick moment of relief until you heard the door slam shut and the bolt click into the door frame. Shit.

He turned to face you again, he took one large stride toward you, and now he was just inches from you. Those butterflies from earlier were trying to come up your throat, but it was getting so tight you could barely breathe. Your mouth was dry, and you swallowed hard to push them back down.

“Now, ya gonna tell me what I wanna know. Why’sit so important that Kraglin and I leave? You plannin’ somethin’?” His voice was intimidating and came out as a rumble. His words made you realize that, even after all this time with the Guardians, he still didn’t trust you completely.

You put on your best poker face and said, “No, I’m not planning something. Stop being paranoid. I would never hurt anyone on this team. Especially not you!” You froze at your last words. Damn it...maybe he won’t think too much into it.

His eyes blazed into yours for what felt like an eternity. You broke eye contact by rolling your eyes and scoffed, “Ugh - I don’t need this.” You tried to push past him and unlock the door, but it was no use. He caught your arm and pulled you back to him. His touch lit your entire body on fire.

“Ohhh ho, no ya don’t. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. Spill. Now. There ain’t no secrets on this ship.”

“But you aren’t the Captain here, Peter is.” You protested.

He shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Okay, yer right. I’m not the Captain here. But I am the one you’ll hafta get pass’ to unlock the door.”

“You’re so infuriating! Why are you even on this?! Why is this so important to you?!” You could feel yourself getting more and more defensive.

“I don’t like secrets.” Yondu said matter of factly.

Of course he doesn’t, you thought to yourself. He just dealt with a pretty nasty mutiny a few months ago. With a deep breath you relaxed, “Look, all I’ll say is this: I am not planning anything, I am not going to hurt anyone, and you really don’t need to worry. I’m going through some personal stuff and, like I told Peter, I just want to deal with it on my own.”

He pondered your words for a moment. “Fine.”

“Fine?” You asked.

“Yep, fine.” He turned to unlock the door and walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

That was definitely weird. He let it go just like that. It wasn’t like him to just let stuff go. You decide to keep to yourself for the rest of the day, buried in your thoughts.

Yondu, however, was not done with this. He waited a while before making his move. After an hour or so he went to find Mantis. She was up front on the flight deck chatting with Drax.

“Mantis, come ‘ere. I need to ask you somethin’.”

She looked at the Centaurian hesitantly. She stood and walked to him, fiddling with her hands. “Did you and y/n talk about what’s been bothering her? It was such a surprise to me, but I am very happy! I hope she will be happy too. You are a very good man.” She said discreetly.

Yondu just stared at her, totally lost. Mantis picked up on his confusion rather quickly. She began to fidget and shift nervously.

She leaned in and whispered softly so Drax wouldn’t hear, “She did not tell you? Oh, no. Well, I cannot tell you anything. I am her best friend and she is mine and I will not tell!”

Yondu lowered his voice as well, “Look girl, I’m juss as worried about ‘er as you are. All I’m askin’ is for a way to help.”

Mantis thought his words over, and hesitated. “I don’t know...she seemed very intent that you never find out. If she didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I should.”

“Come on girl, ya wanna make sure she’s alright, right? I thought you’s was friends. Besides, I sorta have an idea of what’s goin’ on anyways. Juss tell me.”

Mantis’s big, innocent heart won her over and she decided it would be best to tell him if it meant helping you.

“Y/n has been experiencing very much stress and anxiety because she likes you. More than likes you, loves you. There is very much love and sexual desire. She is nervous, excited, and happy, and angry, and sad, and feels guilty too. I felt it all right before you walked in on us talking about her conflicting emotions. It was very confusing. I certainly would not like feeling that way. She is afraid that if you found out, you would reject her and she would have to leave. But...I don’t want her to leave.” Mantis slumped her shoulders at her last words.

Yondu didn’t know what to say. You liked him? Loved him even? But why all that other stuff too? He had to find out. No more games, no more secrets. “Thanks girl, ya been a big help.” Yondu patted her shoulder and walked from the flight deck back to the bunking area.

Yondu sighed and knocked softly on the door. “Mantis, I told you I’m not talking anymore! I’m fine!”

The door quietly opened. “It ain’t Mantis.” Yondu said gently. “Can I come in?”

You sit up on your bunk and look at him, “Sure, feel free to lock the door while you’re at it.” You said sarcastically.

He grinned over his shoulder at you, and locked the door. “You and I gotta talk.”

You begin to panic, it’s happening. He knows, Mantis squealed. “What did Mantis say? I told her not to say anything!”

“Don’t blame her, it ain’t her fault. I made her tell me.” Yondu said with a sly smirk. “So - now that it’s out there, let’s talk.”

The butterflies were back in an instant and about to burst out of your mouth, but what came out instead was just plain sad, “Let’s just get this over with. You’re gonna tell me you know how I feel about you, and then I’m gonna say ‘yeah it’s true, I do like you - like a lot’, and then you’re gonna say, ‘well, sorry, I don’t feel the same way’, and then I’ll take that rejection and shove it way down into the depths of my soul. After that, you turn around and walk out, and I start packing. Okay, great. Are we done?” You stood up and walked toward your trunk that contained your belongings to hide your humiliation and distract yourself.

Yondu looked at you with slight surprise on his face and chuckled. “Uhh no. That ain’t what I was gonna say at all. What I was gonna say was, ‘m flattered. Truly. Women ain’t exactly chasin’ after me these days. I’m just a washed up ravager. No crew, no ship, and I ain’t as young as I used ta be.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued. “A pretty young thing like yasself shouldn’t be pinin’ over someone like me. I ain’t worth it.”

You snapped your head his direction and almost yelled, “EXcUSe ME?! Not worth it?! Do you even hear yourself?”

The Centaurian stood there, dumbfounded as you continued.

“Do you have any idea who you are?!” Here it comes - word vomit. You couldn’t stop, it all came pouring out like dumping water out of a bucket. “You are Captain Yondu Udonta. The fiercest Captain of the 100 Ravager Clans! You’re known across the galaxy! You have more experience in open space navigation, survival, and armed combat than I could ever dream of having. You’re incredibly strong, and cunning, and more charming than any man I’ve ever met. AND you’re just plain handsome. Not to mention that arrow of yours! Don’t ever sell yourself short, because you are more than worth it....if anything, I’m not worth it!

Before you could continue your rant, Yondu quickly stepped toward you, whirled you around and pulled you away from your trunk to kiss you passionately. His lips were the perfect combination of rough, yet soft. He tasted strongly of whiskey, and his hands roamed over your body until one twisted its way into your hair and the other pulled you into him by your waist. The kiss was open mouthed, hot, needy, and absolutely perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back desperately and you felt a little chuckle fall from his lips as he pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Ya have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ ta do that.” He said.

“How long?”

“A few weeks after Peter introduced us. Ya started ta really prove yaself with this group a misfits, an’ the rest of ‘em really took to ya. Including me. I never imagined ya’d be fond of someone like me.”

You both stood in your bunk area holding one another closely. “Well, I have to be honest, I didn’t expect this to happen in a million years.” You admitted.

Yondu pushed you to arms length to get a better look at you. “Why’s that?” He asked.

“Well I mean....look at me? I’m just a dumb little Terran. I’m weak and I barely know anything about space. I’m so new to it all, and I don’t exactly fit in around here. You guys have such incredible abilities and talents. I’m just...me. Terran. What I wouldn’t give to be like...I don’t know, Gamora. She’s breathtakingly beautiful and a total badass! I’ve been contemplating going back to Earth anyway because I just feel like I’m holding you all back.”

Yondu looked over your body and face admiringly and said softly, “I am lookin’ atcha, and none ‘a that’s true. I’m glad your here, and I’m sure as hell glad we met.” He grinned down at you, showing off those gold capped teeth. He leaned in to kiss you once more, deeply.

He pulled away lightly to whisper on your lips, “I can show ya everythin ya ever wanted to see, and teach ya everythin ya ever wanted to learn about bein’ out here.

I ain’t lettin’ you get away.”

#yondu x reader #marvel #gotg #gotg fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fans #yondu udonta #yondu #reader #gotg vol 2 #sfw #short fiction #secrets

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sentofight · 3 years ago

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faty i lov u so much im SO eternally glad we met & that we still are mutuals & write & all that, because knowing u has been an absolute blast and i ADORE the way u come into ppls(my!) ask boxes with random stuff or just to expand on some other post, i think its all soooo endearing and each time u pick up a muse im always HEART EYES and im so happy for each dynamic...like gran&chrom??? leaders who can be so childish?? i think its EXCELLENT and is so needed for gran... hinata&machina are SO funny, and im rly glad theyre (somewhat) hitting it off, cuz i think at the end of the day hinata would kind of understand machina (WHICH i also love how eights like "dude its ok if ure not feeling good, but u should get help & not just disappear", i love eight. thank u for also loving eight). AND IM LOSING MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT but. thank u for all of this, its such a delight to know u and im always so so grateful...u make writing SO fun and i appreciate that everyday

????????????????????????????????????/

im legit confusion atm. this is so sweet my brain dysfunction and unresponsive.

uh im not crying. ninja cutting onions are back at it. god who to pay to get rid of them haha ...

uuuh ... this is really ...sweat. really. and honestly i needed it ;u; it blows my mind that we know each other for that long and just you didnt give up on me because time and different fandom we got into. i’m happy u got me into writing ch/rom, you and arph tbh. i still think about how i only wrote chrom for the risen king shenanigans then he is forever rotting in my brain now. so thank you for this curse lmao seriously thank you for always being the one to watch my shitty posts and press the like button to them and supporting my ted talk endeavors even though they are 90% me crying about one thing or another. type0... type0 dude is a fandom i thought i would give up on when everyone just disappeared but welp. rent free class zero in my brain weee. i did give up for a bit but then eight came back like henlo i require attention yes bring me back. then i added machina for the sole purpose of shenanigans then ..hahaha here comes the boooy~ hello boy~ welcome~ he’s never gonna give anyone up haha before them our ocs ... i love them so much. i love how einar, hinata and arph’s oc..im sorry i cant remember his name because einar refused to remember his name and kept calling him suzaka’s rat ...im sorry arph. but he is suzaku’s rat so where is the lie. hinata being the smol boy among them lmao. lays on the ground...final fantasy type 0 ocs..i will love them as if they were my own flesh and blood hand them all over to me. might frick up and work on more if it weren’t for the dead sign over the fandom but haha when did that ever....stopped me hohoh ....aaaaaaaaaa words words...words...i really dont know what to write????????/how to write??????? to express how much i want to squish your face and give you all the love you rightfully deserves???????????? ????? 2022 virtual hugs when??? i really really appreciate you sticking with me on every blog, on every whim i make and just roll with it and provide me with chef kiss asks when i need them. thank you so much for existing and love THE poteighto.

#OOC.| FATY SPEAKS #toestalucia #SAVING FILES.| B L O G #[[i need to look at this every day #[gotta print this and put it near my bed now #[[i can destroy a mountain now #[this peak positive energy is legit making me cry #[[excuse me i need a moment ....

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luthien-t · 4 years ago

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Resurfaced Memories. chapter one.

Loki x Female reader

warning: swearing, use of tobacco, angst slightly

Summary: Being the goddess of Victory, Sigyn. You Devoted your eternal love to Loki, but ever since his reveal of being the Jotun, Odin decides to separate you both to prevent all chances of him seizing the throne. Casted -More like banished- to Midgard with no memories of your previous life, you believe you are the same as the ones around you, the midgardians. You gave yourself the name Y/n. With plenty of help and guidance you finally have a life, what will it be of Loki when he finds you during his trips with his brother?

word count: 1.6K+

(Im going to pretend that Thanos NEVER happened, so loki 2012 never happened -the avenger did happen tho, just not bc of loki- loki is on good terms with them, him and thor come visit every once and a while, thank u thank u)

A/N: Tell me what you think! Send me a message if you want to be in the taglist and thank youu! Happy readingg

1945, New York.

You are walking, where? You don’t know, you don’t recognise half of the things you pass. People are dressed differently than you, looking down at your gown, it was muddy and damaged, your hair was out of place and your bare feet cannot handle any more of the wet mud you’ve been walking on, it was raining, heavy. You find a house with the lights turned on and walked towards it. Your mind was spiralling with thoughts, unsure of what happened or where you’ve been before, you knock on the door once, tears start to dwell in your eyes, you can’t deny how terrified and confused you are. Knocking again on the door, you were greeted by a woman, a shotgun in her hand earning a gasp from you.

“Who are you and what are you doing on my porch?!” She had the gun aimed directly towards you, as soon as she noticed your tears she put down the gun, scanning you from head to toe, a frown appearing on her face as she noticed the ripped and muddied clothes before pulling you in and looking around outside the house, trying to find any sign of danger. You stood behind her, mouth dry, your brain can’t even comprehend the situation you are in, you are trying so hard to remember but all you get is headache.

“Darling, are you safe?” She locked the door before turning to look at you, concern visible in her face and you only shrug, words won’t come out, almost like you have forgotten how to think or use them. She walked to the living room behind you, telling you to follow her as she grabbed a blanket to wrap around you. “What is your name?” She asks, quietly. You look up at her, trying to remember, your eyes moving around and closing them as if you will remember, but nothing comes to mind. Growing frustrated a sob escapes and your body shakes, she frowns and sits down on the couch in front of you. “Have a seat, sweet heart.” She said in a soothing voice, you sit down and violently wipe your tears before looking down at your hands resting on your knees.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.” You hear yourself say, although it came out through your gasps and broken sobs. She shook her head and leaned forward. “Nonsense, as long as you’re here, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you” She rested a hand on your knee, leaning her head down to look at your face.

But that is the thing, you don’t even know if there is anyone or or anything, you can’t remember where you were or how you got here, your eyes locked to the woman in front of you and you nod. “I don’t remember anything” Thats the only thing you are sure of, you don’t remember.

“Parents? Family? Friends? Anyone I can call?” She asks slowly and you shake your head. “I don’t remember anything, I swear.” Your body begins to shake again and she tightens the blanket around you, trying to give you some form of security. “That’s alright, we will figure this out.” She smiles softly. “I’m Linda, Linda Johnson.” She sits back and watches you, unsure of how to handle your situation. You nod. “I’m-“ You want to say, want to know your name, but your mind won’t cooperate with you whatsoever, your tears appearing again and you sigh. “I don’t know.” You say and look up at her, a frown printed on your face.

She was wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, her hair was orange and she appeared to be younger than you could imagine. She tried to have a conversation with you, talking about her past in simple details, she used to work with the Armed forces. “You don’t look like you live here.”she said then told you that you are currently in New York in the united states, she is about 28 years old, lives alone ever since she left her job. You wanted to interact with her and tell about yourself but your mind won’t budge one bit.

“I will send papers about you, maybe a family or a friend will recognise you and call. We will check up with a doctor tomorrow to see if there is any thing they can do” She reassured you, all you can simply do is nod and thank her.

1947, New York.

It has been two years since you found yourself in New York, you’ve gotten used to the way things work around here. Living with Linda was making everything easier for you, everyday you learnt something new from her. A couple of months into your first interaction, she decided to give you a name.

“You’re not going to be cramped up in this house all day long, you can help me and I can help you,” She started, “It has been 3 months since I put the posters up about you, but we have to see every outcome.” She was starting to worry, she wondered if you even had a family around here. “How does y/n sound?” She said and you smiled wide at her. “I love it” You say and repeat the name, it was simple and easy to remember.

After a year or so, you started to have a life here, you also learnt the reason why Linda left her job, she talked about how a scientist named Abraham Erskine tested a chemical on her, she felt unsafe and had to leave.

“There was no effect, I didn’t feel a thing, he called it the super-soldier serum, I was there to help when he first started working on it. Which is why he tested on me, when nothing happened to me he realised that the serum needed more development, but I couldn’t risk my life for some bullshitted serum” She says as she lights her cigarette and you nod. “So you’re still the same? No effects?” You ask, stirring a cup of tea in your hand and she shakes her head. “Oh no, honey, I had some reaction, my wounds heal faster and I look like im 20 when I’m actually 47, I can run fast, the super strength ingredient was apparently the only thing missing, but I had to get out or else he would’ve kept testing and trying.” You nod again and take a sip from your cup.

“For all we know I might live past the normal human age” she chuckled and you smile. You wonder how old you are, the doctors who checked up on you all gave you the same answer. “Our machines are not that upgraded and we could only assume that you are in your twenties.” They were all amazed at how your cells regenerate quickly and how immune you are to diseases despite not knowing what a vaccine is.

Your days always passed quickly with nothing to do but help Linda in her house, you found a new passion towards gardening and reading, you spent your free time reading every book Linda had and sometimes you’d go to the library and read the books there, you enjoyed norse mythology the most and absorbed every knowledge you could have cramped up inside your mind.

Back in Asgard.

Loki spent the last two year, alone. Yes, he had his brother and his friends, but no one was able fill the gap that you left. He wondered if he ever treated you wrong for you to leave so easily, without a goodbye or a letter, his thoughts taking over him. He mostly spent his awakening hours in the library, sometimes in the garden under your favourite tree, hoping maybe one day you will return with an explanation.

“Still waiting, brother?” Thor said, looking down at Loki who was sitting under that wretched tree he loved dearly.

“That is none of your concern, Thor.” He replied as he flipped the page of the book he pretended to be reading, Thor knew him more than anyone, he was the only one who was able to see through his lies ever since you left.

“She will return, don’t fret, Loki. Everyone was envious of the love you two had for eac-“

“I would rather not talk about her, thank you very much.” He shut his book and looked up at his brother. Thor only chuckled and sat down next to him, anger started to coarse through Lokis veins, How dare he sit where my beloved sat before him!

“Father is as distraught as you are, you know.” Thor looked at him with amusement in his eyes, trying to calm his brother down. “She was the only one keeping you from causing all this trouble!” This time, Thor laughed and Loki looked away. “Father loves to pretend, Thor, you should know this by now.” He crossed his arm and remembered the last time Odin mentioned her.

“She forced heimdall to open the Bifront, Loki, she succeeded at treason. I would not want a criminal roaming this castle or this realm.” Odin told him calmly, Loki was drowning in his own guilt and pain that he was unable to see the lie presented in front of him.

“This is her home! What will happen of her if she is denied of returning to her own realm!” Loki protested, taking a step closer to Odin.

“I will not command Heimdall to bring her back, she may have left on her own accord but she will not return so easily! This is final.” His father stood up, his staff slamming down on the floor, Loki fought the anger and tears from appearing and left without another word.

Odin watched as Loki left and whispered. “One day you will understand.”

#Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odison x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki layfeyson x reader

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archivedatl · 17 years ago

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Old Blogs

Howdy. I’ve noticed some concern over the loss of my old blogs here n’ there so I decided to post all of them in one large, comprehensive blog-a-verse. Hope this brings a smile to a few faces. Our Street Corners Keep Secrets This is me asking for a brick to be thrown through my window, a message attached that reads, "Why can’t you just wake up?" I am not a star, don’t look up to me in hopes of finding something more. That which is out of reach does not promise anyone a goddamn thing. Hope arises in possibility, but possiblity is fragmented and selfish, so don’t think for a second that I am safe ground to walk on. I will sink beneath the feet of a thousand travelling companions, and make ruin of any city’s foundations, because concrete and steel can never tell a soul how it feels. Our street corners keep secrets, and our road signs only suggest, never deciding for us, never knowing if the destination to which they lead, is where we truely belong. Life’s greatest tragedy is not that it will some day end, but that most of us just live to follow directions, and many times we end up totally lost. I am a landmine. Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none. I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed.  I-O-U.  Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room.  Pick me up, Read me every now and then, I won’t disappoint. *I am* witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m *dying* for attention *without* any means of telling *you*. I’ll talk the talk, you take care of the rest. What up thugs?  I’m alive and well, realizing how eternally grateful I am for everything going on in my life day by day... Its a lot like learning to walk - at least, that’s how I’d like to think of it. We’ve all been there, so I won’t waste your time painting a pretty picture of how it all goes down... I want to talk about other things... First and foremost, I’ve come to understand that as of late there have been a lot of people finding this little piece of my life tucked away on the web; moreso than usual, and for that reason, I’d like to extend my proverbial hand to anyone and everyone who may have something - anything to say to me. Thank you for taking an interest in who I am and what I’m attempting to do with my life. I am opening myself up, as much as possible, to anyone who may be interested. All I ask is that whoever you may be, wherever you may be, understand that I am only human - two hands, ten fingers, and a life... I’ve received a few messages from people, upset that I haven’t been able to respond to their previous comments or private messages, and who now probably think less of me for it. I hope this isn’t the case, but its bound to happen. What I’m saying is that I don’t live my life on the internet... I’m sorry if there’s a message I never got around to responding to... I’m just not that good at keeping up with reality, let alone a virtual one. I will, however, try harder from now on... And understand that even if I don’t respond, I probably have read your message. I don’t just clear my inbox and move on. Thats plain rude. :)  To all my good friends, the ones I should talk to more often, the ones I left back home, the ones I will never stop loving, thank you for still hugging me when I come home... I know I don’t always show it, but I’m forever indebted to you all for everything you’ve ever done for me...  That brings me to my second point. The closest friends you’ll ever have are the ones you’d take a bullet for, but they’re the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well. ;)  Think about that one.  That’s it for now. I can’t believe I’m up at 5:14am. Touring has made me an insomniac, but I feel fucking great.  Have a good one y’all,  Me Lawyers and Liars I am a liar. I am self absorbed. I am in this for me. I am seeking recognition. I am not concerned with politics. I am attempting to rise to the top. I am never going to forget my intentions. I am allowed to worry about my own life above the lives of others.  -------AFTER ALL---------  I am human. Part Deux: Colors, Sounds and Feather-Downs  Current mood: happy I had a long, goofy conversation several weeks ago with an interesting girl who I haven’t seen since, in a diner I have yet to revisit, but it stirred up some thoughts that I found pretty interesting. Maybe I’m just nuts. Anyhow, the discussion began on a simple basis; I inquired as to what her favorite color might be. She said she didn’t know. I replied, "How can you not know? Its a simple question." -- She paused, looking sort of surprised, as if someone had never pressed her for an answer before, and then replied, "Well... It changes... Today its yellow."  I didn’t know what to say... I didn’t understand.  How can your favorite color just change? What happened to yesterday’s favorite color? If, on a whim, something of such esteem and value can be replaced with another, then on what grounds was it ever of any more value to begin with? When I was little, my favorite color was green. It stayed that way, no matter what I said to be trendy at the time (IE. 8th grade was my "black is such a raw and expressive pigment" phase, but everyone goes through that shit.) As of late, I’ve become more partial to blue - Light blue in particular, but that’s not that important. My point is that something happened that caused me to send green packing, and to fall absolutely head-over-heels for blue. (Stay with me on this...) Now, such a dramatic change in attraction doesn’t just happen - I mean shit, I know we’re only talking about colors here, but this kind of switch-a-roo has only happened ONCE in my entire life. Green ---> Blue. Just like that. Must mean somthing, right? Pablo Picasso went through a "blue period", at which time he was broke and mourning the loss of a dear friend. There’s a similarity there somewhere. Please don’t get me wrong, I am by no means depressed, nor do I have any reason to be, but perhaps color - every, individual hue, represents to each of us a state of being, and in turn, helps us to deal with whatever it is we may be going through. I’m not talking mood-ring shit here. What I mean is that there are things - simple things - that without our knowing, mean the world to us and when they change, they change for our own good, because whether we like it or not, we are looking out for ourselves. We do it unconsciously - But we do it. We do it to stay happy and to stay alive... And above all else, that’s what matters. On this note, I’d like to attempt to make my point - Don’t throw yourself out on another’s whim. People change, as do intentions and as a result, consequences. Live for yourself - love those around you, but realize that they’ve got their own agendas. People will screw you - You will screw people... Green ---> Blue. Get it? I’m not sure I do... Always consider that your life will venture in new directions, but be aware that other’s will do the same, and in accordance, understand that to be happy, people must exist in their own light, cast in and of themselves, not by the light of their peers. Conflict will arise because of this. Conflict is to be expected; conflict is a part of life. Find ways to work through conflict, even if it means picking a new favorite color...   I hope this makes a little sense.   I’m tired and rambling, and perhaps just a misguided fool, but I think there’s something in this - something that I am learning and accepting as my fingers punch these keys to an inviting, hypnotic rhythm. I feel like they’re leading me somewhere, and I’ve decided to follow.  ____I’m going to bed. Take from this what you will.  Love,  Alexander William Gaskarth  *I feel fine* The first of many, I hope.  Current mood: happy So I’ve decided to spill it; the beans, the juice, my guts... Whatever you want to call it, consider it spilled. Up to this point, I feel like I’ve done an excellent job of keeping just about everything true about myself, to myself... and for good reason - what people don’t know, people can’t use against you. I guess that’s my first confession. I fucking despise the way people operate. The way people go out of their way to find things out, only to throw them senselessly (BLINDLY) into conversation later. I don’t know if its intentional, (I guess that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t,) but frankly, it gets to me. Its the same kind of prying aggravation I feel when someone starts moving shit around in my car, or on my computer table. Stop putting hills in my rugs! Please. Call me OCD but if I put something somewhere, chances are, I wanted it there and it should remain that way. Its the same for anyone else. Let one’s own business remain that way. Anyway. I’ve fallen into a depression lately - not emotionally per say, but I feel like my ability to open up to people has peaked over the past two years. I used to be so ready to say anything, without caring how it affected me, but recently I’ve become so protective of myself, not because I’m afraid of getting hurt by others, but because I might make myself look bad. It’s disgusting. I never used to be so self-absorbed. Its like in every situation, I’m wearing a mask... Not just one mask, in fact, but many masks; Masks to hide masks between people - to hide certain sides of myself from those who disapprove where others don’t. I try so hard to win the approval of everyone. Why? Fucked if I know. I just love being the center of attention I guess. And all this time I thought myself to be humble. No sir. But then, who really is humble? Everyone wants to be loved, right? So am I wrong in looking out for my own well being? Who knows? It makes me sick to my stomach, regardless. I’ve unknowingly stumbled across so many insecurities lately that I feel like a different person at times. It’s like I’ve been born all over again, to a world where I have to carry myself differently. I’m still opinionated, I’m still eagerly in search of answers, but my motives have changed. I do it for myself now; for the praise and admiration I earn as a result of my actions, not for the simple pleasure found in just "doing it". Maybe its all just part of growing up, as they say. Maturing... You know? But does it continue to change? Will I stop acting like such an asshole? Who knows. It worries me. I don’t want to be like this, but its who I’ve become... What’s worse is that I don’t know who or what to blame for the transformation. That would be too easy, right? I digress. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate. My dreams are coming true right before my very eyes - I have a band - We’re going somewhere - This time next year I hope I’m far, far away from this place. I want to see Japan. I’ve wanted to see Japan for a while now; call it a calling. Haha. I don’t know what I want when I get there - I don’t even like the hustle of big cities for too long. Gives me a headache. But there’s something about it. I’ll see it soon enough. The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday and Thursday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I? I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks. I have some good friends. We get hammered sometimes and forget about everything. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. Awww. I also like to kiss people. It gets me into trouble sometimes. Whatever. Certain individuals need to stop looking for love in the wrong places. --I can’t talk. --I’ve found love in the worst places. --Its not an easy thing to deal with. --Doesn’t change the way I feel about them. --Its ok. --As long as I’m happy. There I go being selfish again. ___I’m done confessing for now. Take from this what you will. Love, Alexander William Gaskarth *I feel better.*

#Alex Gaskarth #2008 #So Wrong It's Right #MySpace #blog #text #ap tour

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witched-the-watcher · 5 years ago

Text

Geralt and Yennefer are living their well earned happily ever after and Jaskier is mortal. Jaskier is happy for Yen and Geralt after everything is said and done. Together with Ciri they brought peace to the land and finally made their relationship work after much hardships. It is a hard won decision, but Geralt, tired of all the fighting, decides agrees to take a break from being a witcher and just retire for a while with Yennefer by his side exploring and enjoying their new relationship.

The plan for their retirement doesn’t involve Jaskier and he doesn’t ask to accompany them. This is the ending of their story and he was never a protagonist. Side characters have no role in the happily ever after and he came to terms with a long time ago. All of them walk together side by side not quite ready yet to say their goodbyes. In his heart he knows it will be the last time they’re together like this, but he refuses to say the words out loud clinging to the hope that he will see them all again. The immortals by his side don’t notice the inner conflict, he hides with song and laughter.

First to go is Ciri, who has become like a daughter to him over the years even if the sentiment isn’t quite shared. To her, he ponders, he must be more like a fun uncle she can turn to when she needs a break from Geralt and Yen. He gladly gives her everything she needs and asks for and is so proud of the strong woman he helped raise. When she depards, eager to find her own place in the world, she leaves them alone in a clearing far enough from Kaer Morhen for Yen to use her portals.

Who would’ve thought the witch would grew on him so much over the years. A deep and chaotic friendship connects them now and knowing she finally found the love she’s been looking for all her life fills him with joy. The jealousy he used to feel towards her seems an eternity away. She deserves all the love she’s getting and gives so much back in return. Thanks to her hardly a day goes by without Geralt smiling and even with his smiles mostly directed at Ciri and Yen, Jaskier can’t find it in his heart to be discontent.

Geralt, grown so very soft compared to their beginning, initiates a hug and Jaskier allows himself to indulge in a fantasy of what could’ve been and never was. He imagines a life full of secret glances and stolen touches, whispered confessions over the campfire and a warm bed to return to. He imagines Geralt turning his embrace into a passionate kiss asking him to run away with him somewhere far away and then he lets go.

“See you around, Geralt.” He says with a smile as Yen leaves with him through a portal and he is left alone on the clearing.

Tears he held back for weeks flow freely down his cheeks now that there is no one is see and Jaskier takes his time to collect himself again before starting his journey again. It’s nearly dusk already and he should start putting it all into song. Audiences love a good happy end.

His bones ache.

Time passes and the story of the witcher, the mage and the lioness becomes a legend, told and sung about far and wide. Jaskier has spend his last active years as a bard spinning them into an epic tale immortalising them for all generations to come. He can’t stand the thought of the world forgetting the trio and their deeds.

Yen and Geralt have all but disappeared from the face of the earth, but Ciri keeps up with him those first few year through letters and visits. She is a busy woman however and with time their contacts becomes few and far between until they cease completely around the time Jaskier decides to move to the coast to live out the last of his years.

He doesn’t blame her. She, like her parents, wasn’t made for a mortal life and why would you count the decades if you’ll live for centuries. By the time they will think of him again, he can only hope his songs will be enough for them to remember him by.

Living by the sea is all that he thought it would be. He loves the unpredictable beauty of the ocean, the stormy winds and the salty air. The people are rough but merry and welcome the old rich professor from the big city with open arms, even though he’s grown completely useless over the years. His time as a bard is long since over and neither his hands nor his voice allow him to create the music he prides himself in anymore. All he has left are the stories of his youth, that he gladly shares with everyone in town.

One late spring day a big commotion is running through the little coastal town. A witcher has arrived and everyone is excited. They heard the heroic songs and stories about witchers and want to catch glimpse of the living legend. As the oldest in town and the only one who has any experiences with magic folk the townspeople steal him out of his cozy home and bring him out to talk and negotiate with the witcher.

He sees Geralt standing in the middle of the market square surrounded by curious and excited people of all ages, who dare not approach him just yet except for a couple of children held back by their parents. He is scowling. Of course he is scowling, Jaskier thinks as his heart begins to soar again. He tries telling himself that he is far too old for such silly romantic feelings, but he knows that him giving up on romance is just as likely as Geralt giving up on scowling.

The witcher has obviously been in a fight. His clothes are torn and there are bite and scratch marks all over his body. The people must’ve told Geralt to wait for him before talking to anyone because as he arrives inside the circle Geralt immediately faces him clearly annoyed at the whole procedure and asks

“You’re the elder here?”

Jaskier nods dumbfounded. For once in his life he does not quite know what to say as he tries to keep the tears from falling. Geralt clearly doesn’t recognize him as old and wrinkled as he is and Jaskier isn’t sure if he wants him to or not. Age has always been a bit of a sore spot considering the ageless company he liked to keep. In his youth he tried everything to look as young as possible but not even the best moisturizer in the world could help him now, he thinks slightly bitter as Geralt continues.

“Finished the job. I want my coin and place to stay for the night.”

The job? Jaskier is momentarily baffled. As far as he knows there were no monsters around except for the couple of teenage mermaid messing with the fishermen for the last couple of weeks but surely they couldn’t have banged up Geralt this badly.

“With the job you mean the mermaids?” He asks carefully trying to keep his voice steady.

“Hmm” Geralt grunts as eloquent as ever and Jaskier loses it and starts laughing. Decades later and Geralt still thinks “hmm” is a good enough answer to give. Decades later and Jaskier still understands him perfectly. He loves this beautiful idiot so much it hurts.

The way to the square and seeing Geralt again has tired Jaskier out and he needs to sit down. Thankfully someone in the crowd already brought a chair expecting him to need a rest after this encounter and guides him gently to sit down. Jaskier would’ve thanked the man if it weren’t for the fact that he’s still wheezing thinking about Geralt’s most recent heroic fight.

“You got beat up by a bunch of teenagers? How out of shape are you? You know you were just supposed to scare them a bit, right?” Jaskier manages to spit out in between his giggles.

“Now listen here, old man. You don’t-” Geralt starts through gritted teeth, unamused, only to be interrupted by Jaskier’s continuous laughter.

“Old man? Really, Geralt. We both know you’re much older than me in age and in spirit.”

Jaskier can see Geralt freeze up, confusion and dread slowly overtaking his expression but he continues talking unperturbed. Let Geralt figure it out for himself

“Seriously though you must’ve really let you go in your retirement. Yen’s magic made you lazy didn’t it? Please don’t tell me you’re hiding a potbelly unter all those armor. No, no Yen wouldn’t let you get one, I’m sure, but for you to lose your touch so completely. You must admit this is pretty hilarious.”

Tears have filled Jaskier’s eyes and he tries to wipe them away struggling to keep his laughter under control. Meanwhile, Geralt stumbles a bit, so out of place for the normally unfaced witcher. His eyes have grown wide in shock and his face pale. It’s proof enough for Jaskier that Geralt really didn’t realise how much time has passed between them and he feels lighter, relieved knowing Geralt hasn’t meant to forget about him for so many years. Who is he to judge Geralt for getting caught in the storm of love, when he’s standing here before him looking so vulnerable and scared all of a sudden.

“J-Jaskier?” Geralt stutters in a fragile whisper and Jaskier’s heart clenches in his chest. Seeing him like this is hurting the witcher and there’s nothing he can do about except for making light of the situation and smiling through it just like in the good old days.

“Took you long enough, old friend. I was already scared you might’ve gotten forgetful in your old age.” He teases and notices the murmurs and stares of the bystanders all around them. In a dramatic motion he raises his hands and tries to shoo everyone away.

“All of you scram. Shoo! Let me catch up with Geralt in peace. Satisfy your curiosity tomorrow after the poor man had a proper bath. And you,” He faces Geralt again and waves him over. “Come here and help me up, will you. You can stay at my place for the night. Melitele knows I could use the company.”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that, Jaskier notes grimly as Geralt winces slightly at his words. He promises to be better and make this visit count. It’s unlikely that he’ll have another chance to be with Geralt like this and tainting their last time together with thoughtless remarks and accusation just would not do. He wants his love to have some good memories when he thinks of this in the future.

Almost mechanically Geralt obeys and ,unnoticed by anyone but him, hesitates only for a second before helping him him up.

“My house is not far but this might take a while. I’m not as fast on my feet as I used to be. But then neither are you it seems.” He says with a laugh gesturing at Geralt’s torn clothes. The only retort he gets is a grumpy growl as he links his arm with the witcher’s using him as a crutch and leaning into him just a little bit more than absolutely necessary.

The people scatter around them some slightly disappointed but mostly cheerful. Jaskier knows the town will go and prepare a surprise feast for tomorrow with Geralt as the guest of honor. And Geralt will pretend to hate it as much as he will secretly enjoy all the positive attention he’ll be getting. They make their way towards his house and it’s once again up to Jaskier to fill the silence. He tells Geralt about the town and its people, acutely aware of the stares Geralt is giving him. It must be hard for the witcher to see him like this all frail and wrinkled.

“I may not have your magical witcher senses but even I can feel your staring, Geralt. What’s the matter?” Jaskier asks knowing full well the reason behind his behaviour.

Sometimes Geralt needs to be forced to talk or else his quiet brooding will consume him and every attempt at conversation will be for naught. To Jaskier’s surprise however one question is enough to make him talk. Looks like he’s not the only one who changed a bit over the years.

“You look old.” Geralt blurts out, making Jaskier raise an eyebrow. “Yeees, that’s because I am old. Very old in fact. Still younger than you of course, but not everyone can be an ageless immortal like you.” He responds. Geralt has to do a little better than that.

“No, I mean you look older. You never looked older before. I didn’t realise how long it’s been. I forgot…"

Regret oozes out of Geralt’s words and he doesn’t bother hiding it. It reminds Jaskier of his apology after the mountain disaster and he’d much rather not be reminded of that chapter of his life again, so he takes pity on Geralt and continues for him.

"You forgot that I’m just mortal. That I’m ageing like a normal human. I don’t blame you, my dear. Back then I was obsessed with looking young and terrified of growing older. Thought you wouldn’t want me around if I wasn’t uh pretty enough anymore."

Geralt tries to interrupt him, likely for things he already knows or god forbid to apologize again for the mountain incident but Jaskier simply shushes him and keeps going.

"That was a load of horse dung of course. You should’ve seen me in my sixties, Geralt. I was the most sought after professor in Oxenfurt history. I broke so many hearts in those days.”

He sighs dramatically. “I gave the distinguished gentleman look a whole new meaning. Turns out graying hair and a couple of wrinkles just made me look more dashing. Even you wouldn’t have been able to resist my charms.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Geralt answers sounding amused and the thought of Geralt visiting him back in Oxenfurt makes him stumble.

It had been a foolish fantasy of his. He used to imagine Geralt finding him in Oxenfurt during a lecture and suddenly becoming captivated by his new more mature side. After the lecture Geralt would be overcome with passion and drag him into a side corner, kiss him and apologize for how long it took to seek him out again. It would’ve been worth the wait.

Geralt holds him steady and helps him catch his footing. He is pretty winded after their short walk and needs a moment to catch his breath.

“You don’t have to take my word for it. There’s a painting of me in Oxenfurt somewhere on the campus. You should check it out next time you’re there.”

“I will. I promise.” Geralt says looking at Jaskier with an honest expression.

He feels heat rising in his cheeks and splutters. “Eh, um right well. Ah, here we are. My house. It’s not much but enough for an old man like me. Let’s go in.”

A bath was already waiting for them when they arrived. Marie, his housekeeper, had rushed home as soon as she heard Geralt would be staying with him and made the necessary preparation. He hired her some years back to help him around the house after he broke his leg in a stubborn attempt to do everything himself despite his age. His leg healed but Marie stayed. At least twice a day she comes around to cook him food, take care of the chores and keep him company for a bit.

After Jaskier introduces her to Geralt and thanks her for her efforts she excuses herself to cook dinner leaving both men alone once again only a bath between them. He carefully sits down on the stool next to the bathtub and makes a silent note to give Marie a raise as Geralt undresses and gets in. Sexual pleasure might be beyond him now but her can still appreciate the form and Geralt even after decades of retirement is a sight to behold. He wonders briefly, while admiring the muscles before him, if witchers were even capable of losing their well toned bodies. Imagining Geralt skinny with no muscles or as big and soft man however does nothing to make him look any less appealing in Jaskier’s mind and he absentmindedly pours some of Geralt’s favourite bath oils into the water.

An old routine is overtaking them and for a moment Jaskier forgets about his aching bones and brittle body. Feeling young again he prepares to help Geralt wash and hums a little melody.

A silly little song he once came up with a couple of years into their friendship. Just the two of them under the night sky, a warm fire illuminating their camp as they had one too many drinks. He was teasing Geralt about something insignificant and Geralt retorted by singing a couple of lines back to him. The alcohol relaxing him enough to smile at Jaskier and with a sudden clarity the bard realised that he wasn’t feeling the simple fleeting infatuation he was used to, but something different entirely. Something true and lasting and all consuming. This was the love he sang about in his songs and had yet to fully grasp. This was the kind of love that could push him up to the greatest heights or leave him wanting forevermore. He listened to more of Geralt’s tone deaf singing and let himself fall, damn the consequences.

“I missed this” Geralt says relaxing into the bathtub.

You couldn’t have missed it that much or you would’ve come to see me sooner, Jaskier doesn’t say, instead he replies with a simple “Me too” and gently pushes Geralt’s head into the water.

“It’s a shame you cut your hair though.” He continues running his hands through the white hair. “Washing it was always my favourite part.”

“I forgot to take care of it and after a while it got all tangled up. Had to cut it in the end.” Geralt explains and Jaskier rolls his eyes exasperated.

“I spend so much time and money caring for your luscious white locks and you just forgot. I can’t believe it. My poor beautiful white hair. Where was Yen in all of this? I know she knows how to take care of long hair. How could she let this happen?”

Geralt lets out a chuckle that leaves him breathless as he glances at him with an oh so fond smile on his stupidly handsome face.

“She’s fine with me as long as I don’t smell too badly. You’re the only person invested enough in my personal hygiene to help me bathe.”

Jaskier, embarrassed, slaps a bunch of soap on Geralt’s head as a response and starts massaging it in. Geralt however moves away from his touch and takes Jaskier’s hands in his examining them carefully.

“You don’t have to do this.” Geralt frowns, worry in his eyes. “They must hurt.”

“They don’t. They’re just a bit stiff and hard to move. You won’t hear me play the lute anytime soon but this I can still do.” He reassures him. Today is one of the good days and meeting Geralt made him feel much more energized than usual. He can barely feel his aching joints and the moment.

“Now turn around like a good boy and let me have my fun.” He orders and Geralt obeys with a hmm.

After the the bath they treat the worst of Geralt’s few remaining wounds and make their way to the kitchen. Marie left their dinner neatly on the table before leaving for the day most likely to help the others out with the preparations for tomorrow.

They eat in comfortable as sun sets through the window illuminating the small room in orange hues. Jaskier doesn’t have much of an appetite and leaves his food for later in favour of watching Geralt eat. Neither him nor Yen knew how to cook anything more complicated than plain vegetable soup and from the way Geralt is devouring Marie’s cooking they haven’t bothered to learn it in his absence either. Idiots,the both of them.

“What are you smiling at?” Geralt asks him noticing him staring.

Jaskier ignores the question and proposes to go outside and watch the sunset instead. A couple of minutes later Geralt finishes eating and helps him around the house to the backyard and onto the bench facing the ocean. He had to be carried for most of the way there, his legs giving out under him at last. It’s been a long and he’s exhausted, only the thought of Geralt finally being at his side again keeping him awake.

Jaskier leans against the other man resting his head on his shoulder and watches the ocean waves move back and forth glistering under setting sun.

This is it, he thinks, this is what pleases me. He had been right all those years ago on the mountain when opened his heart to Geralt and asked him give him a chance to prove himself. A quiet life like this, just the two of them and the sea, would’ve been enough to calm his yearning heart.

“You’re quiet.” Geralt remarks, breaking the serene silence.

“Hmm.” He teases but Geralt’s mind is somewhere else. He seems uneasy, concerned.

“Have you ever been married? Are there any children?” The witcher blurts out blunt as ever-

The questions make him chuckle. “Of course not.”

“Why not?” Geralt pushes. “You said you had a lot of admirers back in Oxenfurt. There must’ve been opportunities.”

“Certainly.” He agrees lightheartedly and pats Geralt’s arm. “But how could I marry someone else when my heart already belonged to you. That wouldn’t have been fair.”

Geralt’s face crumbles. “Jaskier, I-”

“Oh don’t give me that look, Geralt.” He interrupts him. “We both know you’re much more observant than people give you credit for and I’ve never made loving you a secret.”

Jaskier takes Geralt’s hand in his and places a kiss on his knuckles.

“I never once regretted it. Any of it. So please no more apologies, my love.”

“Okay.” Geralt whispers and squeezes his hand tightly in response letting silence fall between them once again.

Okay, Jaskier repeats in his mind as he closes his eyes for the last time to the sound of the waves and the wind and Geralt’s slow and steady heartbeat. He is happy like this. It’s good enough.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #unrequited geraskier #don't know how writing works or english grammar #but i tried #thank god jaskier is immortal in canon #major character death

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takonei · 4 years ago

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Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 5, daily life (Part 4)

Note of the author: I had a stroke writing this and you will have a stroke reading this. Sincerely: me.

Chapter 5: An oath to one’s lost humanity - Daily life

...

"It hurts."

"It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts."

"Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts."

"It... It hurts..."

"It hurts... It hurts so much..."

...

Day 20 since the beginning of the game.

8:00 AM.

The morning announcement rang as usual. Shuichi slowly woke up.

Tomorrow could be the end of humanity itself or the end of the killing game. There weren't any other fates awaiting for them.

Hopefully, they would manage to get through the exisal hangar and destroy them.

Kaito's idea may be completely crazy, but that type of madness is what they need right now.

The others were probably waiting for him, so he got dressed up and immediately left to go to the dining hall.

He didn't encounter anyone on his way, though.

Once he entered, he noticed Kirumi was already there with Miu.

"Hello there." Kirumi greeted him.

Shuichi took a seat next to her. "Have you two slept well?"

Miu scoffed. "I slept like someone who's fate is decided tomorrow. But thank you for asking."

It's not like they could have anything else on their minds.

The three started eating in silence.

Kaito and Kokichi came in soon after.

Of course, Rantaro and Ryoma were still in their own labs.

Once they were done, Kirumi left to get Rantaro since Ryoma wouldn't leave his lab until tomorrow.

The medic didn't seem to get better. His empty eyes held the same heaviness for the past three days. The only thing that changed was how good he was at composing himself in front of them- an ability that seemed to worsen over the days, but that no one commented due to how he would potentially react.

"So? Did Ryoma finish the weapons?" Kaito asked.

"He said he'll be done by the end of the morning. After we eat lunch, I'll get the weapons and you guys will be able to enter the hangar." he replied.

After lunch... It was fine. They would have enough time. And besides, he could prepare himself mentally for this operation.

"Hold on, you're not coming?" Miu asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. There are still things I need to do. Besides I don't think all of us going will be useful. Can I leave this to you guys?"

"Don't worry, we'll take care of these, no sweat!" Miu gave him a thumbs-up.

Rantaro had a point. There were only five exisals. Six of them going would be a waste of time.

"What do we do in the meantime?" Kokichi glanced at the others.

"Well, we can still train, right?" Miu suggested. "It can be useful for later!"

"While on the subject of training..." Kirumi mildly raised a hand. "It has come to my attention that someone here might need more than just training."

Shuichi felt her eyes on him.

"I will take Shuichi with me for this morning if none of you are against the idea."

He swallowed.

The others didn't comply, to his dismay. He glanced at Kaito whose eyes simply said: "Good luck."

Training with Kirumi was probably going to be the most painful experience yet.

The group separated, Rantaro still going to do... 'His own business' as he puts it in his lab and the rest of them left to do their own training.

He followed Kirumi to Tenko's lab. He didn't even want to know what she was going to do to him.

Unless... She had ulterior motives?

Once inside, Kirumi closed the door.

"So."

Shuichi turned to her.

"Now that we are alone, we can finally talk in peace."

He let out a sigh of relief.

"We are not going to be able to talk to Ryoma until the time limit. That's going to be very problematic."

"Y-Yeah..."

Should he talk about how he found Rantaro yesterday? At the same time, this looked like a really personal matter, but Kirumi was the only one he could talk to about the situation.

"We're going to have to proceed differently. Forcing him wouldn't help, I know that, but when I went to get him, he was asleep on his desk. And I mean 'collapsed' asleep." she explained.

"Huh? What was he even doing in his lab?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Beats me. There were different products on the table. Different types of painkillers, from weak to very strong ones."

He hummed. "Were all the bottles opened?"

"I did not make a thorough inspection, but overall most of them were opened at some point, I think."

Shuichi thought back at what could possibly have happened in the lab. And more importantly, the syringe he managed to get a glimpse of. Did it have anything to do with it?

After a moment of silence, Kirumi sighed, rubbing her eyes. "This guy really is giving me a headache."

He couldn't disagree. At least with Kokichi, they knew what was wrong and now know how to avoid problems when it comes to his trauma, but they didn't even know what was up with Rantaro since he refused to talk to anyone other than presumably Ryoma. And the latter didn't talk to anyone else either.

"So... What do we do?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "... You have Kiyo's notebook, correct?"

His eyes widened. Of course!

"Y-Yes, hold on..."

He rummaged through his pocket and took out the small, dark blue notebook of the now-deceased therapist.

"Kiyo trusted you with this notebook. Not me. It's for you to make a decision whether you tell me what it says about Rantaro or not."

She was right... He did judge Kirumi trustworthy enough, but he still hid things from her.

"... I think I'll judge after I read it."

She closed her eyes. "Understood."

The mercenary looked back at him. "For now we should keep a very close eye on him. Even more than ever."

"Do you think we should go to his lab?"

She slightly shook her head. "I will go alone. For efficiency purposes."

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "What will we tell the others?"

After a short silence, she made a quick movement under her skirt and took out her monopad, before putting it on the ground.

"You will stay here to read the notebook while I try to check on him. I will not be gone for long, but if the others do end up getting here before I come back, just tell them I had to get something in my room."

He nodded. "U-Understood."

But before she left, he muttered some words.

"... I didn't know you would care so much about him."

She stopped in her tracks.

There was a moment of silence. Had he said anything wrong?

"If that is how you see it. I simply feel like we should make sure he doesn't end up hurting himself."

The mercenary closed the door behind her.

... Kirumi was also a mystery, in some way. While Rantaro helped from the light, she was helping from the shadows.

Even if she hadn't gained the trust of everyone -even sometimes hated for her talent-, she was the only one aside from him to see through Rantaro's decomposing cover and willing to investigate.

His eyes stayed fixated on the door for a while.

Perhaps he should start reading the therapist's notes.

How was that thing even organized?

There were several bookmarks of different colors. Some were folded, some were not.

He opened the first page.

Angie Yonaga - Ultimate craftswoman

Upon a quick glance, he realized everyone was listed in alphabetical order. As for the bookmarks, he tried to see why some were folded, but he quickly put two and two together when he realized only eight of them were not folded.

To read them all would be useless at this point. He turned the pages when he stumbled upon Kirumi's.

What had the therapist deduced about her? Perhaps it could have answers to some of his questions.

He shook his head. The mercenary had left to check on the medic, and his role was to read about him.

Perhaps he still could try to look after reading his part.

He turned the pages to find the green, unfolded bookmark.

Rantaro Amami - Ultimate war medic

He took a deep breath and started reading.

Day 1 report.

Like for everyone else, I am using this notebook to keep track of everyone's behavior, and possibly help them adapt to this environment.

I did not have time to talk much to Rantaro, but he is of the people who stood out the most to me. He seems to already want to take the lead- in a good way. I can sense he has the instinct to do so. He says he is a war medic, I wonder if he was the chief of a crew or if it's just in him to lead people in dangerous situations. Both are plausible, but I shall study him more to see what enabled this behavior.

I do wonder if he has any sort of trauma linked to war, though.

Shuichi almost forgot there was a time Rantaro was the true 'leader' of the group. It felt like an eternity since then. So many things happened from the moment they were captured to now. Half of them have died already and there was a possibility the rest of them would die tomorrow, killing off the last glimmer of hope for humanity.

But the last sentence of the paragraph made him wince. It reminded him of how innocent he seemed back then- before almost killing him.

If Kiyo had a feeling on the first day, then surely he would have gotten more info about it over the days.

Day 6 report.

Rantaro is once again taking the lead by making us watch all of our motive videos to gain our memories back. I thought he was going to get us not to watch the videos, but I was proven wrong. He is more of a strategist than I thought. I do wonder if he has any other tricks up his sleeves to face Monokuma or not. He seems to already know someone is going to kill.

This afternoon only confirmed it to me. He seemed extremely forgiving of Miu's murder attempt, although I could also see a hint of uncertainty. Which is normal when you almost died. I hope he manages to play his cards well.

I cannot help but wonder if this side of him is genuine care for her or 'white manipulation' if you could call it that way. He doesn't seem to have any ill intentions, but if Miu learned she was being manipulated (even for a good cause), she would react very badly, I'm certain of it.

For now, I will stay silent, as I do not know his intentions completely, and to throw accusations would destroy the work he has started.

But if Rantaro is indeed able to manipulate people into acting according to his plans, I can't help but worry about what he could possibly do in the future.

I do hope he will not have to do this again, even though that is necessary, to an extent.

"White manipulation...?" Shuichi muttered.

He did notice how well Rantaro could act. Now he wonders if back then he had only done this to make her side with them.

He does feel bad though, to know that there was a possibility Rantaro was only taking advantage of Miu's feelings for him, completely disregarding the love and respect she had for him.

Shuichi really did hope there was at least a glimpse of sincerity in his words.

But right now, manipulating them? He indeed wanted everyone to act according to his plan to stop Monokuma, but now he wasn't so sure if there were any other intentions behind it or not. Rantaro never attempted murder... if he didn't count 'that' time. He saw it for himself: He was the most useful in the trials, always pointing out details on either the autopsy and major clues to continue.

Right now he was alone in his lab -with possibly Kirumi-, Ryoma was in his own lab and the others were training. But... that was necessary if they wanted to stand a chance against Monokuma.

... Perhaps he should continue reading.

Day 8 report.

Both Kaede and Maki are dead, but the trial let me see strange facets of some of them. Especially Rantaro.

He looks so dedicated to his job, I don't think I've ever seen such loyalty before. As Tsumugi was pushing him over and over again in the hope of getting info out of him, he felt insulted at the theory he would betray us. The emotion he put through his speech- that was genuine. A genuine pride and honor tied to his title as the ultimate war medic. He even insisted he would rather die than betray us.

While I am rather glad someone seemed genuine in his words of never committing treason, it stills makes me feel... Uneasy. I did feel chills hearing that last sentence.

“And I would rather die than to betray this loyalty I swore to myself.”

Those are definitely not the words of a normal person. I can tell he has gone through a lot as a soldier, but then again he never seemed to show any explicit signs of trauma.

I feel like I can trust him. He seems reliable enough as well as a very intelligent person who was a great help during those two trials. And while I do hope we are not going to get a third trial, I am pretty sure he would be just as useful if that happens.

While some of his methods are a bit unorthodox, they do end up being efficient in the end. To entrust Ryoma with his lab key so he wouldn't be able to be pinned for a crime was a smart move. I do hope no one gets the wrong idea with him, though.

As for hiding Miu's murder attempt... He managed to be extremely rational and not let his emotions take the better of him. He could have told everyone about it but preferred to gain her trust instead. Although as I said a few days ago, I do not know for sure if this is about genuine care or manipulation.

Miu did try to kill for her son but backed down because she was unable to actually do it. I think Rantaro sensed her will to fight and is trying to turn it against Monokuma. That's what we are all supposed to do but are too afraid to act because of the consequences. He is trying to redirect us to the path he judges right.

Overall I do not see him as our enemy, but rather as one of the people I trust the most, for now. I hope I will not get proven wrong over time.

'Unorthodox methods' was an understatement.

Shuichi was ready to tell the others about what Miu did, but Rantaro had immediately decided not to. Any normal person would lock her and make sure she couldn't harm anyone else, but he decided to give her a chance, and he was right to do so. That was a huge gamble that paid off in the end.

And to enable their will to fight, not against each other but against Monokuma... That was what he called white manipulation.

He thought about the time he and Kaito had gone to his lab during the third investigation. When they learned Rantaro had kept the lethal aspect of his products a secret. It was like he had managed to plan everything in advance extremely quickly.

Shuichi supposed it's his own talent that granted him this sense of organization.

But Kiyo explicitly said he never showed any worrying signs... Which didn't help in the slightest.

Day 10 report.

Rantaro has volunteered to take care of the ones touched by the despair disease. It is a noble gesture, and a part of me knew that was going to be the case.

Right now there are no more 'leaders' since he will not be with us to limit the risks of contamination. He even asked Himiko not to stay here too much. And while I cannot talk to him face to face, his words still feel genuine.

As a war medic, he should know better than us about this type of situation, so in the meantime, I shall help those who have trouble coping with the killing game.

He looks trained enough to do his job and I trust him for this. For now, I should focus on those I can talk to.

Nothing much to learn here...

Kiyo doesn't seem to doubt Rantaro, but he does not give any sort of information that would help him.

Day 12 report.

Rantaro started giving me mixed feelings. I feel like half of what he says is genuine, and the other half feels... Not exactly wrong, but forced. Like he is forcing himself to act in certain ways. To do certain actions.

Himiko, Keebo and Angie died today. I'm still having a hard time processing it all. But right now I am focusing on things I noticed in Rantaro's attitude.

When most of the group separated to investigate, I stayed with both Ryoma and Rantaro to guard the corpse. Right after everyone left, Rantaro probably became the most expressive I've ever seen him. He was truly mad at Himiko's death, and that was genuine. A feeling of guilt I also sensed after the others' death, but Himiko was the one to stand out the most, and I am sure it is because of her cause of death.

When he found out later the most important parts of Angie's plan were made thanks to his lab, plus the fact she tried to pin the crime on him must have accentuated his guilt. He was trying to hide it so he could solve the trial, but it was there.

The rage against Monokuma when he declared Angie had the bloodlust disease is completely genuine as well, I do not doubt it for one second.

However, when he grabbed Monodam to make him face Himiko's mangled body, he was clearly forcing himself. Was he trying to prove a point to the robots? To encourage us to fight? Or is it something else entirely? I could tell he knew that was not a good idea and that he had the emotional capacity not to snap. He did it with rationality and I cannot tell why he took such risks.

I want to believe in him, but this is starting to worry me. I should try to keep an eye on him.

He is.. pretending? But for what?

What would he even prove to Monokuma by threatening his cub? The bears had much more power than him at the time. Taking risks without any reason behind it was not like Rantaro at all. Was Kiyo wrong?

At least it's more than he ever learned. But still, he knew Rantaro was hiding things, but to fake irrationality... Why? He knew showing signs of weakness could cause the others to lose hope, so why do it on purpose when everything he has done up until now is trying to get them to fight Monokuma?

Or was it like the second theory- to encourage them to fight?

Shuichi had no idea what the medic was thinking, although that was not new.

He should read more.

Day 14 report.

Once again Rantaro took the lead for the 4th motive.

It's not that I mind, but we will have to stay separate for the most part, and Rantaro seems to want to stay with Ryoma for the time being. The two seem close, now that I think about it. And both often give their inputs in the trials, although Ryoma is a bit more silent. I suppose their experiences as soldiers must have made them closer than with anyone else. I do hope I am not wrong by making this assumption.

Although there is something that worries me. Ever since Himiko died, Rantaro seems more on edge. My guess is that since her death was more brutal than the executions themselves added to the fact that he was drugged the time this crime was committed, he must think he could have done better and even save her had he been less 'careless'. I do not know if he knows that it is not his fault, unfortunately. I can only hope. If someone had asked me a few days ago, I would have said with no hesitation that he knew that. But now I'm not so sure anymore.

He may have faked his reaction back in the shrine of judgment, but if more actions end up feeling genuine, I might have to step in.

Himiko's death had shocked everyone, not just Kokichi. Even though the boy was the most mournful, they all deeply missed the astronomer.

Her death changed them all in some way. Miu became way more motherly, Kiyo acted on his own because he judged he was the one to blame for this, Kokichi was torn apart because his disease was the reason she died, and now Shuichi learns that Rantaro was actually feeling the exact same guilt as everyone else.

But finally, he was getting a glimpse of what was wrong- something related to his past on the battlefield and the guilt he is holding.

Surely Kiyo would have...

...

... He didn't have time to get any more information, did he?

This note was written one day before his plan to stop the supposed mastermind. He didn't have time to write more.

However, there was one last note, hastily scribbled on the last page. It looked like Kiyo was in a rush when writing it.

This is the final note I shall write. Everything has gone wrong, and Shuichi, since you are probably the one reading this, I am sorry for lying to you all. I am sorry for betraying you and I shouldn't have made this disastrous plan in the first place, but I need to write this.

It's not that I'm distrusting Rantaro, but something is deeply wrong. Something I don't have an explanation for, and of course I cannot ask him because I have to pretend to investigate with you all.

But the way he was standing, the heaviness in his eyes, the way he reacted to Tsumugi's death, this intense guilt in his expression... It's not something I've ever seen before from him. He always had a comforting smile and a genuine will to help. But now it's different. It's like he completely shut down, only leaving an empty shell deprived of reason.

But that doesn't make any kind of sense. He didn't show even a single sign of trauma up until very recently. Not a single time. I've noticed his actions started feeling off during the motive and brushed it off because I was focusing on the mastermind, but there was a hint of hesitation, of uncertainty that was never present in him. But now that Tsumugi is dead, he has been showing those signs of trauma -whether it is indeed PTSD or something worse- more than ever.

I fail to see the meaning of this, but that may be because I didn't have time to talk to him at all. He might have just completely snapped all at once. It's very rare to be able to swallow all the pain that well, but if we keep in mind his early life, that actually might not be that much of a stretch.

Anyway, I know this is going to be hard considering he is not the type to let himself crumble -besides the eventual faking-, but I need you guys to keep an eye on him and possibly help him with this. He is the one who will need it the most.

I will not be here to help you and I don't have the time to write methods on how to deal with PTSD, and I do not know how to deal with war trauma of all things. Added to the fact I didn't get to witness it much, all I can say is good luck. I know you can help with patience and perseverance.

I have faith in you all.

...

A note before the trial. The last thoughts of the therapist about them. But...

What did this even mean?

Somehow he could understand the 'shut down' part due to what he witnessed these last few days... But he could not even apprehend anything else on this note.

"He showed subtle signs and then... broke d-

The door opened, startling him. He instinctively closed the notebook, letting out a high-pitched noise. "Ah!-"

Kirumi stared at him for a moment. "... I'm back."

"I-I can see that."

She approached him. "So? Anything new?"

Shuichi looked back at the notebook for a moment. "He... never mentions any sort of trauma. Only that it seemed... sudden."

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. "Sudden...?"

"He said he only showed very subtle signs of trauma but never mentioned anything else about it. Only that he seemed to have snapped when Tsumugi died."

She pondered for a moment. "... Which does not help us apprehend the situation at all."

"He only mentioned PTSD or 'maybe worse', but he never got to talk to Rantaro about it."

"Rantaro stayed with the ill ones during the third motive, and we had to stay separated during the fourth motive. So I can understand that part."

Shuichi stared at the notebook for a moment. "Was the mastermind... trying to do that?"

She looked back at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Trying to separate Rantaro from Kiyo- the therapist. Rantaro is one of the smartest ones here... Were they trying to make sure those two couldn't talk?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I am starting to think this is a possibility."

"They have managed to manipulate Kiyo, I wouldn't be surprised if they took Rantaro's trauma at their advantage. To exploit the weaknesses of the ones causing them the most trouble."

He winced at the thought. "Which means we'll have to keep an eye on him at all times... If he lets us."

"Which I doubt he will. You should know Rantaro by now as well as I do."

He could only agree.

"Wait, how did it go? Did you... talk to him?"

She went silent for a moment. "I did confront him, yes."

He felt his heart skip a beat. "S-So...?"

"He refuses to say anything. I did try to ask him to join us in our training and at least be with someone, but he snapped at me saying he already trains alone, and has the medicine to prepare. I couldn't get a single thing out of him."

"Oh..."

There was a long silence.

"Should we... train anyway?"

"Sure. What I do is more of an aiming exercise than something physical. A technical exercise, if you will."

At least he wouldn't get exhausted this time.

Kirumi first gave him a simple exercise with the target and the darts from Kokichi's lab, which at first didn't sound too bad. That is, until they changed the difficulty from 'peaceful' to 'throwing knives at a moving target.' At least his aim at the end of the training was decent.

Finally, Kokichi went to get them for lunch.

After that, Rantaro would get the weapons and they would finally make their way to the exisal hangar.

Hopefully, his plan would work.

They reunited, but lunch was pretty silent as they didn't have much to say.

After eating, they stood up.

"So? What about those weapons?" Kaito asked.

"I will go to Ryoma's lab. You guys can still train in the meantime if you want." the medic replied.

Did that mean it was going to take longer than expected?

Either way, Rantaro was already on his way.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi looked at the others.

"I guess we're back on preparing ourselves." Kaito shrugged. "Not like we have much to do."

"Then how about we go to the warehouse? There are still the dumbells here!" Miu suggested. "And you will have to train your strength one day or another!" she pointed at Kokichi.

"O-Okay??"

They made their way here. But as soon as Miu started going through the boxes, the lights suddenly turned off.

They stood there for a moment. The sun still shone through the windows, but the additional lights were gone.

"Weird... Aren't they always turned on?" Kaito raised an eyebrow.

"That is strange. None of us pressed a switch or anything similar." Kirumi noted.

"I'm guessing the power went out..." Shuichi noted. "But it never happened in the academy, did it?"

Kaito shook his head. "Nope. Not even once."

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything." Miu shrugged. "Should we go outside instead?"

They didn't have many solutions. It was still too dark to do proper training.

The group made their way outside. Since Rantaro would soon come with the weapons, they decided to do simple exercises outside.

Shuichi was still anxious about this. Sure, he knew a way to open the hangar, but would the weapons work? Surely, Monokuma would try to do something, right?

Who knows.

Around fifteen minutes, later, Kaito broke the silence. "What's taking him so long? I know Ryoma's lab is on the fifth floor but still."

"Agreed..." Shuichi muttered.

"Should we go and see what happened? Maybe the blackout did something." Miu suggested.

"No need for it. He's right here." Kirumi said, head turned towards the main door where Rantaro just appeared.

He had a backpack that Shuichi assumed to be full.

He approached the group, put the bag on the ground, and opened it.

"Those are the weapons we used for the tunnels and new ones. There are now grenades in there that are powerful enough to do heavy damage, so be careful keeping a safe distance when activating them. You guys should be able to disable the exisals with that." Rantaro explained.

Grenades powerful enough to destroy exisals?

That was definitely not what he had in mind, but... Perhaps they could change their plans, if Kaito accepts giving up on his dream to pilot the exisals.

"So you are still not coming with us?" Kirumi asked.

The medic thought for a moment.

"... Perhaps it should be better if I go with you guys indeed."

Rantaro didn't say anything as he distributed the weapons to everyone. The grenades looked very small compared to the damage they are supposed to do. They were about the size of a tennis ball, with Ryoma's sigil printed on them. They were a bit heavier than what Shuichi expected an item of this size to be, but it wasn't too bothering.

"Shuichi, I really do hope your method will work." Kaito said.

"Even if it doesn't, I'm pretty sure these will be enough to destroy the door." Rantaro eyed him.

He did hope this would work indeed. Not that he disliked the bombs, but it still worried him.

They made their way to the exisal hangar.

Shuichi noticed the lights were still on, which meant the blackout hadn't touched the hangar.

"That's weird... I thought the blackout happened in the entire academy." he noted.

"Yeah, that's right! Is it because it only touched the main building or something?" Miu added.

"Strange. Rantaro, did you also get it on the fifth floor?" Kirumi asked.

"I did experience it. Fortunately, there were emergency lights in Ryoma's lab. He said he'll work a way to create a sustainable light source in case this ends up being a long term problem."

Shuichi wondered if all the labs had those. Probably, but he would have to check sometime.

This made him worry about the state of the academy. Perhaps throwing bombs around and using hacking guns could do serious damage, and without electricity and thus heating, refrigerators, and many other essential elements in the academy. they were better off dead.

At last, they reached the shutter.

"So? Will you finally tell us your technique?" Kaito asked again.

Shuichi nervously approached the pad where he had to type the password.

"... Kokichi, could you come here for a second?"

"Um... Sure..."

The smaller boy placed himself next to him. "What... do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Let me just..." He placed a hand on the keys, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

He could sense the others silently wondering what he was up to.

"... Actually no. Miu, can you come here too, please?"

She raised an eyebrow. "O...kay? What's the big deal?"

"I want you to press keys at random until I say stop."

They all looked at him with dumbfounded eyes -except Rantaro, who somehow already knew what the plan was-.

"What the fuck?! That's your plan?" Miu exclaimed.

"There's one in a trillion of a trillion chance she'll get it right! Did you seriously think this would work?!" Kaito added.

"No, it can work."

Everyone turned to Rantaro.

"There is a chance it can work. Right Kokichi?"

The smaller boy jumped. "Y-Yes... I think she can do it."

"If karma is fully on her side, then I think she can get this one in a billion chances."

Her eyes widened and turned to the violinist. "You planned to use karma for this??"

He nodded. "That's why I'm asking you to type the code. You out of all of us are the most likely to succeed."

The street artist felt the gazes of her friends on her.

"I... I'll try."

She placed her hands on the pad. "So... I just type random numbers?"

"Yes, don't think while you type. And stop the exact moment I tell you to."

She paused in front of the pad. Shuichi closed his eyes to focus.

Miu closed hers as well and started typing, the beeping echoing through the room.

The intervals between the noises were short, but keeping track of them wasn't much of a problem.

beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep-

"STOP!"

Miu instinctively took her hands off. "Is it good?"

Shuichi swallowed. "I think we can press enter."

He was very nervous. He really hoped this would work.

tic!

A loading logo appeared on the pad, everyone staring at the machine with anxiousness.

Password correct!

Shuichi's eyes widened. "It... worked?"

Miu laughed and started ruffling his hair. "It worked! Shuichi, you're a genius!"

"I-I guess? Thank you?"

"And thanks for the karma, Kokichi! We couldn't have done it without you!"

He weakly smiled. "T-Thanks, Miu."

Kaito cracked his knuckles. "Alright! Now that this thing's open we can get in!"

"We shouldn't let our guard down. We don't know if Monokuma is ready to stop us or not." Kirumi advised.

"Agreed." Rantaro added.

They proceeded with caution as the door opened for them.

They slowly entered the hangar, checking every side to see if the bear was here to stop them.

... But nobody came.

"So." Rantaro approached the first exisal with his hacking gun, pointing it at the machine. "If the gun works, the exisal opens."

Kokichi looked unsure. "And... What if it doesn't?"

The medic shot a quick glance at him.

"... Then we're blowing this place up."

Shuichi felt his heart skip a beat. When he had requested weapons to Ryoma... This isn't what he had in mind in the slightest.

"H-Hold on! Ain't that a tad too dangerous?" Kaito exclaimed.

"Well, do you have any other plans?"

The biker went silent. "N-No..."

"If they don't open with the guns, we have no choice but to destroy them."

He took the grenade to look at it. "Ryoma made these specifically to destroy them. He is the ultimate weapons maker, I'm pretty sure those bombs are more than enough."

Shuichi was still worried. If Ryoma's bombs were as powerful as he just said, weren't there risks they would hurt or even kill themselves?

He could only hope the guns would work.

Rantaro pointed the gun at the blue exisal and shot it five times.

But it didn't move.

"Perhaps we should check if we can open it." Kirumi suggested.

She approached the engine and tried to move it...

... Without success.

"S-So the guns don't work?" Miu asked, already knowing what's coming.

"Nope. That means the system to open them isn't electric, but mechanical. We can't do anything with the guns." Rantaro noted.

Kirumi crossed her arms. "I had inspected them several times the day we discovered the hangar. They don't have an opening mechanism that can be used by hand."

"Then... We have to destroy the exisals?" Shuichi looked at the two.

"... We don't have a choice."

He didn't expect Miu to say that.

"We have a way to put an end to this, so let's blow these up!"

"Are you sure about this?" Kaito turned to her.

She nodded. "If you want to, you can wait for us outside. Just give your bomb and we'll take care of it!"

Since Kaito couldn't run, to escape the explosion would be hard. Perhaps he should indeed distance himself so he wouldn't have to risk his life.

The biker gave his bomb to Miu and left.

"See you soon, good luck!" He waved at Miu, who waved back. "Gotcha!"

Everyone had their bombs in hand.

"You pull the grip, throw next to the exisals and run away as fast as you can. Ryoma told me we have ten seconds to run before they explode. Which should give us enough time to distance ourselves from the explosion. Got it?"

Shuichi nodded.

"3..."

He held firmly the grenade.

"2..."

Hand on the trigger, hoping this would go well.

"1..."

He was about to pull the grip, but-

"AHEM!"

A familiar robotic voice was heard from behind them.

A voice they all hated.

They all turned around to see Monokuma had made his apparition.

"My, my! That was quite the elaborated plan! I'm sad you guys don't put that much effort into killing! To use Kokichi's karma to open the door, then grenades to destroy the exisals? I didn't think you would go that far!"

... Well. Shit.

Of course, Monokuma would barge in at some point. It was about time he did something to annoy them.

"However, that would be very unfortunate for me if you guys end up destroying my precious exisals!"

Rantaro glared at him. "You just had to ruin our plans, didn't you? I was surprised you didn't show up sooner."

"I wouldn't call it 'ruining your plans'. You see, I call it 'Killing game management'!"

Kirumi rolled her eyes. "So? Stop beating around the bush and tell us what you're planning to do."

He groaned. "Impatient, aren't we? Let me at least make things enjoyable for our audience!"

Kaito looked at him with a deadpanned expression. "Stop fucking around, you stupid dramatic theater kid. No one is watching and no one cares."

"Fine! Fine! I simply added an additional rule for our lovely stay at the academy! Make sure to keep it in mind!~"

Shuichi took out his monopad that just vibrated and turned it on to see the new rule.

#17: Any person damaging the headmaster's personal property (Exisals, kids) will be faced with punishment.

"Oh, come on!" Miu yelled. "Couldn't you tell us sooner?!"

"Puhuhu! Why would I? It was fascinating to watch all of you prepare this meticulous plan, and to almost destroy my precious exisals! By the way..."

The bear took out a set of keys he span around his paw. Four keys, each marked with a color- blue, red, pink, and yellow.

"Those exisals can only be opened by my precious cubs! I would never -ever- give you guys the keys!"

If the cubs had the keys and Monokuma took them back after their deaths, then only Monodam had his key left.

Although that didn't mean he would help them.

"Now, shoo! You wouldn't want to be executed for such an idiotic mistake!"

Shuichi was mad. But he had to restrain himself. He glanced at the others.

They didn't have a choice but to leave, no matter how much they wanted to complete their plan.

The group slowly walked out, disappointed by the outcome of this mission.

They had to go back to the original plan, to fight the exisals once the time limit comes.

Miu explained to Kaito what happened back there, the latter also mad at Monokuma.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi asked.

"We'll stick to what we planned to do. You guys continue your training, I'll bring back the bombs to Ryoma."

Shuichi didn't expect anything else.

He thought about the notebook. Should he make an excuse to read more of it? Perhaps he could try to understand better what Kiyo was trying to say, and he was also curious about Kirumi.

But at the same time, he had to train with the others. They wouldn't be able to survive if he doesn't get fit before the next day.

Rantaro left to go to the main building.

Kirumi was keeping an eye on him. She obviously didn't like the idea of leaving him alone.

And neither did Shuichi

"K-Kirumi? You did aiming exercises with Shuichi, right?" Kokichi turned to the mercenary.

"Yes, I did. I am guessing you would like to train with me?"

He nodded. "I know I don't have any kind of brute force, but... I still should try to get better at aiming, right?"

She hummed. "It would be preferable, yes."

Miu put her hands on her hips. "We may have failed now, but we're not giving up! C'mon, Shuichi! I heard from Kaito you weren't exactly the strongest~"

Shit.

"R-Right..." he faked a smile.

Kaito wrapped an arm around his neck. "You're coming with us whether you like it or not!"

He could throw the plan to keep an eye on Rantaro in the trashcan, then.

But they were right on one thing: They needed to train.

They headed to the main building, but noticed the blackout was still happening.

"When will Monokuma bring the lights back? Sheesh, he could at least do that instead of giving us stupid rules." Miu groaned.

"Do we still train here or...?" Kaito crossed his arms.

She hummed. "I guess we can take the dumbells outside. That's gonna be our first exercise!"

... He was going to be the one transporting them, wasn't he?

The trio got to the warehouse, thankfully still illuminated a bit by the sunlight.

"Hey Shuichi! Take those dumbells outside, would ya?" the street artist grinned.

I knew it.

They ended up encouraging him as he transported the heavy box outside. The encouragements didn't do much, but it was still nice to have them by his side.

The three trained for a while. Shuichi was getting better, to the others' pleasure.

Good thing those two were good at motivating.

"I'm... I'm exhausted..."

Kaito laughed. "Alright, alright. We can take a break."

Shuichi laid on the grass and looked up to the sky- or rather the fake sky.

It may be nothing but a screen simulating the day/night cycle, but that was also the symbol of all the efforts the Gofer project scientists had put to ensure their survival.

They could not fail this fight. Not now.

There was a long silence.

...

"Do you think we're going to make it?" he asked.

Ryoma could make weapons, yes, but would that be enough against Monokuma?

Did he have any other trick up his sleeve?

What would... What would the one behind it all do?

"I have hope in us."

As expected, Miu was the one to talk.

"I said it before and I say it again. We can't consider defeat as an option. Whatever is in front of us we will fight it."

"I promised to Kaz that I would live, that I would be one of the salvagers of humanity, and I'm keeping my promise."

"And I want you guys by my side too."

But no matter how many encouragements Miu would give, his worry would never die down.

However, seeing her so determined about this helped a little anyway.

After a long pause, they decided to continue the training, this time he and Miu cheering for Kaito who was trying to run with dumbells. He did end up falling more than once, though.

But every single time he got back up. Sometimes needing help, but overall being more than able to help for the next day.

Perhaps those training sessions did more good than he thought, both physically and mentally.

Some long hours later, they could see the sunset in the distance as they all sat on the ground.

...

"This... This may be the last time we ever see the sun setting. If we can even call it that way." Kaito broke the silence.

Miu groaned. "What did I say earlier?! We are going to fight! And we are going to win!"

"I know! I know! But still!"

Miu turned to the source of this beautiful golden light. "... But I get what you mean."

The screens reflected almost perfectly the colors they used to watch on summer nights, back before the killing game.

When everything was normal.

...

"Oh, you guys are here!"

A voice came from behind- Kokichi.

"Hey there! Have you guys trained well?"

Kirumi, who was accompanying Kokichi, approached the group as well. "We are fine."

The two turned to the sunset as well. A calm and peaceful scene.

A wave of nostalgia hit him. Of summers spent with friends, dancing around the beach with their families watching them.

Moments he wanted so much to live again, but couldn't.

...

"I see things are going well on your side."

Shuichi almost jumped at the voice.

Rantaro had joined them as well, to his surprise.

"I'm glad you guys are still up to this very last battle." he said with a weak smile- a weak smile still not hiding the emptiness in his tired eyes.

"Anytime, sweetie! We're ready to fight!" Miu gave him a thumbs-up.

Shuichi couldn't help but smile as well. "I've been getting stronger thanks to you all. I think... I think we can do this."

"T-That's right! We've been training and I'm sure that with Ryoma's weapons we can end this!" Kokichi exclaimed- although his voice was still lower than most of theirs.

"Then I believe we can survive this fight." Kirumi crossed her arms, her voice low, but confident. "I believe tomorrow this killing game will end."

It was rare hearing such words from her, but they truly felt sincere.

"Then how about we take a break?" Kaito suggested, standing up. "We've been training all day, how about we relax a little?"

Rantaro sighed. "As much as I hate it, I have to agree. Perhaps we should indeed end for today."

Shuichi smiled. Finally, the medic admitted taking a break was necessary.

The group stared off into space.

The sky may be nothing but a pale copy of reality, but those rays of sunlight still warmed their hearts.

They were here. Six of the seven survivors of humanity. And if they were chosen as ultimates to save it, then they were going to fight until their very last breath.

Their journey was coming to an end.

A long and painful journey of what felt like endless suffering.

Tomorrow would mark an end to this game, and they would finally live in peace.

But right now, they just enjoyed the silence. The comforting artificial light from the dome.

Though the wind was not present, Shuichi could almost feel a light breeze on his face.

A calm before the storm, and hopefully then, calmer than they ever have been.

...

Shuichi turned back to the group. "How about we relax for an hour and then we get to dinner?"

"Sounds good to me! I need a shower." Miu stood up as well.

They all agreed, heading back to the dorms.

Shuichi started walking but noticed Rantaro was staring at the building- or the void, most likely.

"Are you okay, Rantaro?"

He turned back to the violinist. "Huh? Sorry, I'm coming."

Once in his room, Shuichi let out a sigh. He really needed a shower as well.

After that, he looked at his monopad. 45 minutes left before going to the dining hall. Perhaps he could finally read a part of Kiyo's notebook.

He sat on his bed and opened it to Kirumi's page.

The violinist may be worried about Rantaro, but he was curious about her as well.

Kirumi Tojo - Ultimate maid (?) mercenary

Shuichi forgot for a moment she was known as the ultimate maid for a while. But if he did note a question mark, did that mean he was doubting her even before the reveal? That wasn't that surprising actually.

Day 1 report.

Like for everyone else, I am using this notebook to keep track of everyone's behavior, and possibly help them adapt to this environment.

I do not know this person well, I will admit. However, I am pretty sure she was lying about her talent, at least partially. She may be in a maid outfit, but I have a feeling she is hiding things. I do not wish to point things out so soon. After all, cooperation is the key to survival in a killing game. One simple thing could lead to a disaster.

Who knows what would happen if I exposed her as a liar so soon. Besides, I lack concrete evidence to do so. I should keep an eye on her to see if I can get any information out of her behavior.

Even on day 1? Shuichi didn't know what he expected, but certainly not that soon.

Good thing he didn't expose her back then, though. He doesn't even know how he would have reacted.

He did learn it during a trial, which was why he had to brush it off rather quickly to solve the current mystery, but had she been exposed at any other moment he would have probably panicked a lot more.

At least Kiyo knew what consequences it would have had.

Day 5 report.

Kirumi is definitely not the ultimate maid.

I have heard from Tsumugi's group that Kirumi wished to stay in her lab for a moment before any of us could even enter. She may have gotten out of her lab afterward, but I have my doubts.

I did end up talking to her, though, in her lab of all places. The lab did look like it belonged to a maid, but something is amiss, I can feel it. And I am pretty sure she knows I know. She looks like she is carefully choosing her words every time she talks to me.

In her lab, our conversation was rather interesting, although I do not doubt for one second that she was lying through her teeth about certain things, mostly her daily life. I have a few theories about what she could be, although my main theory is that she is indeed a criminal, and not the 'robber' type. I would not be surprised if she revealed to have killed people in the past. How many? That I do not know, but she surely did.

I do understand why she stays silent about it, though. Even I, the first day, realized anything can make us crumble. I do not know if we will ever know one day, but knowing Monokuma, he would surely find a way to rat her out.

Although there is one thing that reassures me, is that she does not seem like the serial killer type. If she really took pleasure in killing, she would have done so during the first blood perk motive.

So I am guessing she is a retired mercenary or assassin. I do not know what could have made her stop her career, perhaps I should talk to her once her talent is fully out.

Even back then he knew about her being a mercenary, or at least an assassin.

He was really glad he didn't tell anyone. But was it the reason why Kirumi got Maki's motive video instead of hers? Monokuma did blame it on his cubs, but there is a possibility this was on purpose.

After all, how else would she get her talent out in the day? Just seeing her lying about her talent must have given him the will to expose her himself with the second motive.

He was glad Kiyo acted carefully back then.

Back then...

He preferred not to think about the fourth trial again.

Day 8 report.

So she is indeed the ultimate mercenary, just as I thought.

A strategical woman who does not wish to take unnecessary risks. She looked unhappy to have her talent exposed by Keebo and Ryoma, which is more than understandable. However, they did not specify if she was retired or not, which worries me a little. But since she is a mercenary and not an assassin, I think she does not wish to kill someone unless there is a reward behind it- most likely money.

Although I fail to understand why she didn't kill anyone during the first blood perk if she knew how to kill. Actually, now that I think about it, it might be because she realized the same thing as me- the fact that Monokuma may or may not have been lying about letting us go scot-free. And since Kirumi is intelligent as well, that is the most plausible possibility. A distrustful and independent nature has its perks.

I will try to talk to her about it during the next few days, but I will have to balance her with a few others, such as Kokichi, Rantaro, and Tsumugi.

Kirumi had mentioned retiring if she could, which meant she was indeed still active before the game.

And she did tell him about the reason why she didn't try to kill anyone for the first blood perk. And as Kiyo said, it was because she realized Monokuma may have been lying.

A strategical woman indeed.

But Kiyo also seemed to have realized that Monokuma may have been lying as well, but perhaps he feared the direct consequences of exposing him.

It's not like he could ask him now.

Day 9 report.

Kirumi is indeed an interesting person. Now that her talent is out I got to experience her real self. She is still helping with tasks, this time with Miu by her side, that I am glad didn't isolate herself from the group after the incident.

Miu aside, Kirumi seems to have mixed feelings about her own job. That if she had any other opportunity, she would retire, but that circumstances didn't allow her to do so. I did ask her how it was affecting her- to kill people for a living. However, the moment I even tried to talk about the subject, she glared at me and immediately closed herself off. It isn't anything surprising, really. To bring yourself to describe your killing career must be very hard. But in that case, she just doesn't want to, I think.

She doesn't show any signs of trauma, though I could be wrong. Since she is a strategist, she must know that showing weakness could cost her a lot. For now, I will try to focus on other people, since she seems very reluctant to talk about her feelings.

Although she did talk about preferring to end her targets' lives as painlessly and quickly as possible. That making people suffer and torturing them was not part of her job. On that point, I can respect her. She knows killing is wrong, and I can sense a respect for the dead coming from her. A necessity not to kill those who aren't involved with her job.

At least she is more reasonable than I first thought when I heard about her talent as a mercenary.

To respect the dead... That was exactly what she talked about a few days ago when she reproached them that they didn't respect those who died and their wishes. Kaito had taken it the wrong way, but this was what she really meant.

When they talked later, Shuichi learned that she wouldn't kill if she didn't have to and that she mostly did so to survive, putting her life before her targets'. It was a selfish mindset, but... Could he blame her?

Killing was horrible, and it is an unforgivable crime. He knew that more than anyone.

But as Kiyo said, at least she hated making people suffer.

He was really glad she was on their side.

Day 13 report.

Himiko's death was a shock for everyone. There is no questioning that. But Kirumi's stone-cold facade finally crumbled enough for me to see some specks of humanity in her.

Although she does have experience in killing, her reaction upon seeing Himiko's corpse was almost just as normal as ours. Pure horror. I didn't expect Himiko to be tortured in such a way either. I wanted to vomit.

But to see her shocked about her death proved me right on a point. She does respect the dead a lot. I do not know how exactly she achieved this mentality, but I presume this is because of her job. To watch people suffer weighs a lot on someone's mind, so making things quickly would limit the damage on her psyche.

Deep down she does feel the same horror as us to this madness.

And her last interaction with Angie only intensified this feeling. When she grabbed Kokichi to torment him, Kirumi was the only one who had the nerve to step in and slap her away, denying whatever similarities the two could have, and I suspect this mentality is the 'why'.

Two killers, yet drastically different ideologies, although I do not think I can consider Angie's bloodlust disease as an ideology.

I should try to get through her again if I have the chance.

...

There is nothing else in the notebook about her.

Kiyo had stopped writing about the others to focus on his plan. Each time he remembered that, his heart stung. Tsumugi's death, the trial, everything coming after... That was a horrible memory in his mind.

Upon reading Kiyo's statements, Shuichi had an answer to one of the questions he didn't dare to ask Kirumi.

How could she live with so much blood on her hands?

Being a mercenary must be an extremely hard job, especially if you hate killing. So this... this mentality helped her bear through this.

He did wonder if she sometimes wished for her targets to be happy in the afterlife.

... He preferred not to think about it too much.

Shuichi checked his monopad. It was almost time to leave.

After putting his shoes back on, he left the room.

Kaito and Kokichi were already there waiting.

"Oh, are you two waiting for the rest of us?"

The biker smiled. "Yup! We might as well go together, don't you think?"

He nodded. "Yeah... We still have to wait for the others, though."

Time passed, and Miu, Kirumi, and Rantaro left their rooms soon after. They all had noticeably taken a shower, for obvious reasons.

The group went to the dining hall to prepare what could be their last dinner.

They noticed the blackout was finally over, and they could at last cook in peace.

Miu had asked everyone to help- and they did. Shuichi wished Ryoma was there with them, though.

The dinner was nice, although Shuichi could see a hint of nervousness in the entire group.

The last dinner before the end of the killing game, whether they win or lose the fight.

"Alrighty then! We're gonna sleep and tomorrow is the big day! So sleep tight everyone!" Miu announced.

Rantaro chuckled. "I still have some things to do in my lab so go on without me."

How much of it was a lie?

The street artist narrowed her eyes for a moment. "Just don't stay up late. Got it?"

"I know, I know. Don't worry about me, okay?"

She slightly blushed at the remark. "A-Anyway! C'mon guys!"

Shuichi saw Kirumi shooting one last glance at the medic before following the others.

He couldn't do anything but go back to the dorms.

He laid on his bed, wide awake.

He couldn't sleep knowing Rantaro was up to who-knows-what at this point.

Carefully, the violinist opened the door, making sure no one would witness him, and stepped out of the dorms.

He quickly made his way to the main building.

Checking his monopad, he saw Rantaro's icon right in front of Ryoma's lab on the fifth floor, and Ryoma's icon in the lab.

... Were they talking?

Shuichi felt bad, but he didn't have a choice.

He walked through the corridors, but on the stairs leading to the fifth floor, he heard some noise.

Or rather, tapping, coming from both behind the door and from the hallway.

taap, tap tap tap tap, tap. taap tap tap tap, taap taap taap, taap taap, taap tap tap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap taap, tap, tap taap tap, tap. tap tap taap, tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap, tap tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

This was from behind the door. And it oddly sounded like...

... Morse code.

A rhythmic tapping of fingers on the door. Quick, but understandable if you are experienced, he supposed.

tap taap taap tap, tap taap tap, tap, taap, taap, taap tap taap taap. taap taap, tap tap taap, taap tap taap tap, tap tap tap tap. taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap. tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap taap, taap tap. tap tap, taap tap tap, tap, tap taap.

This one was from the hallway.

He hadn't mastered morse code at all, he couldn't understand a single thing.

But what if...

Shuichi quietly went down the stairs. If he grabbed a pen and paper, he could try to note the conversation.

If only he could go to Kiyo's lab where he knew were stored many notebooks.

But perhaps Kaede's lab had enough of them as well.

He ran there, grabbed a pen and a notebook, and sprinted back up.

He took out a piece of paper and focused.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. tap tap tap, tap tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap. tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

It was a bit hard to follow the rhythm, but he could do it. He had to thank his good hearing for that.

tap taap, taap tap tap tap, tap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap, tap, tap taap tap tap, taap tap taap taap.

Supposing Rantaro was the one talking here, what is he even saying?

tap tap. taap, tap taap tap, tap tap taap, tap tap tap, taap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap, tap tap tap. tap tap, tap tap tap. tap tap, taap tap, tap tap tap, tap taap, taap tap, tap. tap tap. tap tap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap tap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap taap, taap.

taap taap taap, tap tap tap tap. tap tap. taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap tap tap, taap taap taap, taap tap, taap. tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap taap.

A pause.

taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap. tap tap, tap tap taap tap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. taap tap tap, taap taap taap. taap tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap tap, tap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap taap taap, tap. taap tap taap tap, tap taap, taap tap. tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap, tap tap tap taap, tap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, taap tap, tap...

... taap, tap tap tap tap, tap, taap tap. tap tap. tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap. tap tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap.

...

tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap.

...

tap tap taap taap tap tap.

...

tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap tap taap tap, tap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap, taap tap tap. taap taap, taap tap taap taap. taap taap, tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap, taap taap taap, taap tap. tap taap taap, tap taap, tap tap tap. tap tap tap, tap tap, taap taap, tap taap taap tap, tap taap tap tap, taap tap taap taap. taaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaptap

Shuichi couldn't even take notes anymore. This was way too fast. He wondered how Ryoma could even understand anything.

taaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaap-

BLAM!

Shuichi jumped at the brutal slam on the door, echoing through the large, empty corridors.

There was a long silence.

taap tap taap tap, tap taap, tap taap tap tap, taap taap. taap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap, taap tap. tap tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap. tap taap. tap tap tap, tap, taap tap taap tap.

taap tap tap tap, tap taap tap, tap, tap taap, taap, tap tap tap tap, tap.

Shuichi could hear Rantaro's heavy breathing from the stairs.

What the hell happened?

He doesn't know how much time he spent waiting for an answer before the tapping came back from behind the door.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. taap taap tap, taap taap taap, taap taap taap, taap tap tap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

tap tap, taap taap. tap tap taap tap, tap tap, taap tap, tap.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. tap tap tap, tap tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. tap taap, tap tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap. tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. taap tap, taap taap taap, taap.

taap tap, taap taap taap, taap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap taap, taap. tap tap, taap. taap taap, tap taap, taap, taap, tap, tap taap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap tap, tap tap, taap taap tap, tap tap tap tap, taap. taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap.

...

A long pause.

taap, taap taap taap, taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. tap tap, taap, tap tap tap. taap taap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap, tap taap tap.

tap tap. taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap.

tap taap taap taap, tap tap taap, tap tap tap, taap. tap tap tap, taap, tap taap, taap tap taap taap. tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap taap tap, tap.

tap tap. tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap.

...

Shuichi felt bad eavesdropping like this.

Perhaps he should leave. This felt so wrong.

He looked away for a moment and left.

He had heard enough.

And he had no right to interfere. If Ryoma was already taking care of the matter, then he had no choice but to leave it to him.

After closing the door of his room, he looked at the notes he had taken.

They looked like a mess. But hopefully, he would manage to translate it.

He put the paper and the morse code guide on the desk and started writing.

...

After what felt like an eternity, he had the full dialogue -if he didn't count whatever Rantaro was rambling about for a moment.

- You sure this will work? - Absolutely - I trust you but this is insane I hope you know that - Oh I know don't worry - But if you do believe we can save everyone... then I will follow you - Save ... - ? - I have failed my mission was simply ????? ... - Calm down for a sec. Breathe. You good? - I'm fine - You sure as hell are not - Not that it matters right now ... - Tomorrow it's over - I know - Just stay safe - I will

That's all he got.

But at least he got to learn one thing...

... It's that his auditor was indeed Ryoma.

Why, though? They could talk face to face. They have no reason to complicate things for each other. So why the morse code?

He didn't get it at all.

The second thing he learned from this conversation is that Rantaro was not getting any better.

But what could he even do?

Tomorrow was the final day. If they all survive the battle, they would finally be able to rest. And both Ryoma and Rantaro knew that.

Just one more day.

Shuichi laid on his bed, closing his eyes, a lot of things lingering on his mind.

Tomorrow they would fight.

They would end this.

Once and for all.

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

13 notes · View notes

lastluvbug · 4 years ago

Note

Dude your little fool me once and twice series just stabbed me I'm the feels like, dude I am legit crying. XD WE NEED SOME FLUFF IN THIS PIECE SO ITS UP TO ME TO REQUEST SOMETHING! (if you are willing to do it you don't have to just saying.) So can you do a request where the MC (Yuu) has had a stressful day after dealing with some bullies that she has been trying not to tell anyone about but Kalim and Jamil end up finding out. What will they do?

Ahh!! Thank you thank you for the ask! Of course I’m willing to do it!

Warnings: Bullying

Desert Flower

“Fgnaaaaaaa!!!”

Yuu was roughly torn from her ever enigmatic dreaming by a scratchy scream and a distinct flush of heat to her side.

Yelping through her disorientation, she pushed herself away from the source of the burning, rubbing her eyes to clear away the sleep induced fuzziness. “G-Grim! Hey, what’s wrong?!” She cried, hands hovering just above the cat-like creature who was writhing on the bed, blue flame encircling him.

“Grim! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare!” She took the monster into her arms, biting back a wince as her hands were scorched by the heat, fading after a second as Grim’s eyes snapped open.

“Yuu...! Yuu, he was going to eat me!” He sobbed, cuddling into her embrace.

“Who? What was happening in your dream?”

“It was Jamil’s shadow! He looked so hungry, like he was going to...”

Yuu wanted to laugh, but she smiled softly instead, smoothing out Grim’s fur and petting lightly over his ears, quelling his hysteria. “It wasn’t real. I thought you were a great hero! A hero’s not afraid of anything, right?” She tempted, playing with his small paws.

“Absolutely! I-I’m not afraid of some silly monster!” Grim agreed, taking Yuu’s bait. She was going to reply, when a loud rumbling promptly shut her down, making her laugh briskly. “...But I am scared of this appetite! I’m starving, let’s eat!” He cheered, throwing a curled paw up.

“Hmph, so brave...” She sighed, setting Grim down, “go on down. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay~!”

Grim leapt off the bed, mumbling something Yuu couldn’t quite catch as he left, kicking the door shut behind him.

Giggling at her friend’s antics, the smile was quickly forgotten as her hands began to sting, sharp as first but easing as she relaxed the muscles. Peering down at the soft skin, she groaned at the cherry red sight, slightly swollen and puffy from the burns they suffered. “Guess I have to be even more careful than before... just until this heals up, that is.”

Yuu was cautious as she stood from the bed and fixed her uniform, brushing out her hair and changing her sleepwear. She hesitated briefly as she glanced herself over in the mirror above the forever unlit fireplace, cringing at her face.

It was apparent she hadn’t gotten enough sleep, as usual, even without Grim’s little interruption. Further still, perhaps unnoticeable by anyone besides her, a dark, defeated darkness twisted her lips in a frown, her bright eyes dimmed with an unnamed melancholy.

She knew the reason why. She knew the reason why she hesitated in every class, why she started eating less and less, why it was becoming difficult to look anyone in the eye.

Pushing the room door open silently, Yuu headed down the hall, flexing her hands slowly in front of her as she sucked in a sharp breath. “That sure looks painful, did the kitty do that to you?” Yuu screamed at the sudden intrusion, jumping back a few feet as she glared at the ghost.

“Do you absolutely need to do that?” She scolded, growling.

“What do you want me to do? Wear a bell and jingle everywhere I go?” The chubby ghost joked, laughing heartily at Yuu’s unimpressed expression. “My concern is real, y’know. I’m not sure you should leave today, especially if you’re going to be hounded by those bullies again.”

Yuu flinched, clenching her fist despite the screaming pain that followed. That one had been her accident.

Ever since arriving at NRC, Yuu was accutely aware of her misplacement, both because of her gender and because of her lack of magical abilities. As if the self doubt wasn’t enough, it wasn’t long before some of the students made the same realization, and used it against her in the worst ways. Tormenting her, they called her names, ridiculed her, broke her down inch by inch.

It wasn’t until she happened to stumble upon a certain pair of classmates that she found a way to cope. She couldn’t remember exactly how she met Kalim Al-Asim and Jamil Viper, but could vaguely recall bumping into the shorter during lunch, earning a snide remark from the vice and a carefree laugh from the head. From there, she found herself spending more and more time with the duo, eventually earning the trust and friendship from them, though it took a while to break down Jamil’s guard.

That was how she managed to hide her secret for so long. She’d met so many people, made so many friends, but none like Kalim and Jamil. She knew that they had a full plate as it was, but adding her problems to it? No way, she wanted to prove that she could handle herself, that she could stand up and face the problem head on.

So one night after a particularly cruel session of verbal abuse, she tucked Grim into bed, rushed to the rundown lounge, and cried. She was sure to be quiet, covering her mouth with her hands and suppressing her whimpers, but cried nonetheless, completely unaware of the ghosts that watched.

When they emerged from the shadows to comfort her, that was when Yuu spilled her troubles, pleading with them to keep it a secret.

“I’ll be fine! After all, I’ll just do what I always do; works like a charm!” Yuu waved him off, shrugging the memory away.

“...Yuu. It’s not healthy to hide these things. Maybe you should tell someone.” He suggested, brows creased.

“No! I can handle this on my own. Now, thank you for your time, but I should be getting to Grim and class. Bye!”

“Just be safe!” The ghost warned, fading back into the walls as Yuu hopped down the steps.

She didn’t respond as she caught Grim in the kitchen, shoveling tuna into his mouth as she laughed. The almost unbearable heat of hunger flooded her gut, but pressing a hand to her stomach and swallowing thickly, she pushed it away. Not now.

“Come on, Grim! I want to go meet Kalim and Jamil!” Yuu smiled, bending over as she placed her hands delicately on her knees.

“Fgna... go yourself, I’m busy.” Grim refused, licking out the rest of the can.

“U-Uh, alright! See you later!” Yuu stammered, feigning bliss as she headed out, crossing her arms defensively across her torso.

As she trudged down Main Street, she glanced around anxiously, heart skipping a beat as sweat beaded on her temples. It wasn’t often she was this nervous, only the times when she was utterly alone in the open. Her bullies never targetted her when she was with someone else, aware that she had a way of guarding herself with another person.

Yuu was climbing the steps to the school building when she noticed them; the four boys leaning against the doors. “Well, looky looky! Up bright and early for the day, birdie?” One of them crowed, making her cringe at the use of the distasteful nickname.

She could recognize them by the colors of their arm bands. Two were from Savanaclaw, one from Heartslabyul, and one from Pomefiore, each with their own way of ripping her self esteem to shreds. “Please leave me alone.” She clipped, keeping her gaze to the concrete.

“Bowing your head? Please, even Riddle could pull off a better act.” Heartslabyul sneered, kicking off the wall.

“No no, I think it suits her,” one of the Savanaclaw lackeys croned, “prey should know their place.”

“You’ll never be like us. You’re just a little girl, meant to serve and nothing more.” The other added.

“And with that face? She’d be lucky to find a man at all!” Pomefiore finished, drowning the staircase in wicked laughter. “Lose a few pounds and we’ll talk, sweetie!”

Yuu grabbed at the hem of her shirts, absorbing every comment, eyes unfocused and blurry. Bearing through the abuse yet again, she pushed through the boys now crowded around her, entering the building and shutting them out.

“It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true,” Yuu whispered to herself, covering her ears with her burnt hands as she followed the scent of breakfast to the cafeteria, pleasantly illuminated with the lantern light.

She hadn’t even taken a step inside when she heard the call, beckoning. “Yuu~! Over here!”

Yuu looked up, dropping her hands as she met the eternally smiling face of Kalim, arm above his head as he waved her over, Jamil pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment at the scene. Wiping her upset look off, she redrew a cheeky grin onto her glower, refilling her eyes with joy.

“Hey Kalim, Jamil! What’re you up to this morning?” She prompted, feeling a warmth build in her stomach.

“Eh, the usual. Breakfast.” Kalim responded, gesturing to his plate. “Jamil made it all, so it’s super healthy and delicious!”

“Ha, I’m sure it is!” Yuu nodded, revealing her pearly whites in a grin. It faltered as her gut grumbled, quietly enough to only be felt by her.

“Would you like some, Yuu? There’s plenty to go around.” Jamil offered, setting his silverware aside. “I’ll get a plate if you’d—“

“No thanks! I’m alright!” Yuu all too quickly deflected, digging her nails into her thighs.

“Hm? Are you certain? It wouldn’t be a bother.” Jamil pursued, Yuu feeling yet another hunger-caused groan arising in her torso.

“Yep—you know me! I’ll eat later, I’m not very hungry right now.” She lied.

“...If you insist.” Jamil conceded, resuming his meal.

The only thing ringing within Yuu’s ears was the hurtful smear on her body; she’d always believed she was beautiful, inside and out. It didn’t matter that she had her flaws, everyone did, she loved herself. Until someone took those flaws and paraded around like her feelings didn’t matter.

“So Yuu, what are you doing after school today?” Kalim asked, surfacing Yuu from her abyssal mind.

“Hm? Oh... nothing, I think. Why?” She played with her hands, and the feeling of aching soreness that occurred whenever she wiggled her fingers.

“Kalim and I have a freed schedule. I was curious as to know if you’d like to join us later, maybe for a board game or two?” Jamil smiled mischievously.

“Uh—yes! I’d love an excuse to see you two show off your rivalry!” Yuu joked, repressing her urge to eat.

“It’s settled then. We’ll come get you after class.”

“Yeah, and don’t be late! I’m so ready to kick Jamil’s ass in Mancala!”

“How many times must I defeat you in that game to drill it into your thick skull that I’m better than you?”

Kalim merely broke out into a fit of giggles, the joy rather infectious as Yuu joined in, even earning a small grin from Jamil at the absurd banter.

It was a blink before the bell rung, and as she parted from the oppositional duo, Yuu strongly regretted turning down the meal. Her stomach was knotted, groaning as it ate away at itself, sickeningly warm and unpleasant.

“Yuu! Wait for me! I’m not big enough to walk that fast!” Grim ushered behind her, panting as he ran on his short legs to catch up.

“Ah, Grim! Did you enjoy the rest of your food?”

“Obviously! There’s something just so enticing about fish, don’t you think?”

Yuu gave an awkward smile. “Uh, sure...” She lifted him into her arms, carrying him gingerly as to not disturb her burns, which were still hidden away from her animal-esque companion.

Taking a seat in her normal spot, Yuu felt the unmistakable sense of eyes trained on her, and spun around, looking for the source. When she found it, she recoiled, tilting her head downwards as if to hide her presence behind the curtain of hair that fell around her daintily beautiful face.

Two of her harassers sat a little ways behind her, glaring as they snickered, attentive to Yuu’s semi-vulnerable position. Still, with that fire breathing raccoon, they couldn’t do anything to her directly.

Yuu could barely focus on the class, with the combined forces of physical pain and mental distress working to keep her very preoccupied. Even reminders from Mr. Trein didn’t snap her from her internal stupor, though she knew her bullies were cruelly ridiculing her every time she received a clip from the teacher.

The worst part was, there was no escaping it. In every period, it seemed like the problem was chasing her. She couldn’t avoid those judgemental glowers, or the hushed lampooning that always managed to hit so close to home.

Like most other days, Yuu skipped lunch, her stomach now having gone quiet thanks to the use of her continued starvation. She sat with Grim, joking lightly as she watched him eat, wishing she could do the same without the guilty thought of ruining her body.

And, through hour after hour, the school day ended with a piercing ring, all students being dismissed with an armful of homework and an array of deadlines, Yuu included. “I’m beat! I just want to go home!” Grim cried, stretching. He started to walk away, but stopped when Yuu didn’t follow. “Coming?”

“Uh, n-not today! Kalim and Jamil are going to walk me over to their dorm.” Yuu explained, leaning against the doorframe. “You could come with us, if you wanted.”

“And sit around, watching you do God-knows-what? No thanks. I’m heading back to the safety of my kitchen.” He refused, uninterested.

“Oh wait! Then... could you take these with you?” She held out her homework, significantly less than the average student thanks to her lack of magical prowess, but still enough to take up a good chunk of her free time.

“Eh? Why can’t you do it yourself?”

“Because I want to be here when Kalim and Jamil show up! And besides, the Great Grim can handle such a little job, right?”

“Man, I hate when you use that as you excuse...” Grim sighed, taking the papers, “but of course I can! Now I’ll be off. See ya later, Yuu!” He hopped off, leaving Yuu in the dead silence.

The feeling from earlier that day returned, hands becoming clammy, heart rate accelerating, and limbs becoming stiff as Yuu stood. She despised being alone, especially because she knew the situation she was in, but her stubbornness turned away any thought of asking for help. She couldn’t do that, and let her friends believe she was too weak to face her own problems!

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing outside that classroom, but as soon as those brawny figures emerged from thr shadows, she wished for nothing more than to dart into it. Fear kept her paralyzed, even as they trapped her in a circle, back preser to the wall. “All alone? Do you never learn from your mistakes? How dense can you be?”

“Please, stop. Haven’t you done enough?!” Yuu fought, never once making eye contact.

“Done enough? You’re lucky we’ve been this kind to you!” One of them laughed, earning grunts from the rest.

“Kind? You think calling me names and criticizing me is kind?” She didn’t know where this confidence came from, but she felt her adrenaline spike because of it.

She was finally going to stand up for herself.

<————>

“Ahh! I hope Yuu’s okay! I sure got an earful from Mr. Crewel...” Kalim worried, rubbing the back of his head.

“Only because your such a dunce,” Jamil rolled his eyes, “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s been a little... off as of late, but we’ll sort that out when we’re back at the dorms.”

“I know, I know... ugh, I’m going to go on ahead! I need to apologize!” Kalim decided, jogging to meet up with Yuu.

He’d screwed up a potion in class, earning a huge mess to clean and a lecture from Mr. Crewel as a reward, Jamil staying behind to help despite Kalim’s protests against it.

Rounding the corner, Kalim froze midstep, darting behind the wall once again to listen in on the event he stumbled upon.

Yuu stood with her back to the wall, face hidden in her hands as a group of four surrounded her, laughing. “No more spunk? I thought you wanted to fight back, birdie!”

Yuu didn’t respond as she sobbed, a pitiful sound that cracked the dorm leader’s heart into pieces.

Kalim quickly assessed the situation, identifying the four boys. He was more than aware of the fact that if he charged straight in, a fight would occur, and he was outmatched. The best thing he could do was get help.

Spinning on his heel with guilt encumbering his steps, he silently darted away, racing back to Jamil. “J-Jamil! Yuu needs help!” Kalim panted, pointing to down the hall.

The usually stoic vice flinched, eyes widening as he stumbled back a step. “What do you mean?” He asked hurriedly.

“Yuu, she’s—just get down there and keep them busy! I’m going to get Headmaster Crowley!”

“Got it! Be quick!” Jamil nodded, rushing down the corridor, silently forming a plan. He didn’t know who “they” were, or how many he was facing, but he knew he had a not so secret weapon he could use if worse comes to worse.

Darting out from the end of the hall, Jamil was almost half convinced that he was going to see nothing, but was proven sorely wrong when he realized the position Yuu was in.

“Just leave me alone!” She screamed, trying to swat away the enclosing boys around her.

“Oh, the gusto! Think you can hit back now?” A Savanaclaw flunkey grabbed Yuu’s hand roughly, making her cry out.

Like a lightning bolt, Jamil lurched forward, moving with an unmatched agility as he grabbed the unsuspecting student’s shirt, yanking him away as he protectively held Yuu, her face buried in his chest as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He growled lowly, eyes clouded with a dark rage.

<————>

Yuu wasn’t sure where it went wrong.

One minute she had the confidence to face her foes, the next, tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks as she hid behind her hands.

Just after the bully roughly seized her hand, her burns sending stabbing agony down her arms, she was suddenly pressed close to someone’s chest, their grip tight enough to show their anger.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She recognized that voice, and the animosity it was thick with.

“So the birdie really did get help! Took long enough.”

“You’ll do well to refrain from speaking like that,” Jamil warned, a hand snaking into Yuu’s hair, “lest you wish for your own defeat.”

“Big talk. What’s someone so scrawny like you going to do anyways? Hiss at me, Viper?”

“Yuu, get behind me and cover your eyes,” Jamil whispered, releasing his grip on her. She did as she was told, though trembling slightly.

“You four worms will fall to your knees and bow to me, your master. Snake Whisper.” Yuu listened to the sultry tone of Jamil’s voice, cognizant of the sheer power his unique magic carried.

The sound of grunts and bodies hitting the floor echoed in the tall corridors, and Jamil turned around, practically crushing Yuu in a warm embrace. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

“J-Jamil... I—“ Yuu silenced herself with a hiccup, wrapping her arms around Jamil’s bigger frame, who responded by running a hand through her hair gently, shushing her cries.

“Yuu, Jamil!” She looked over Jamil’s shoulder, seeing Kalim rushing towards her, Crowley following close behind. “Hey, are you okay?!” He demanded, placing a hand on her shoulder as she broke away from Jamil.

“N-Not really...” She was finally truthful, wiping away a new wave of tears.

“Excuse me. What happened here?” Crowley snapped, arms crossed as he glared through his mask.

“I believe I may know. Kalim, please take Yuu back to Scarabia, I’ll meet you there when I’m finished taking care of this.” Yuu cringed at the end, imgination running wild at the implications.

“Roger that. See you.” Kalim too seriously answered. He extended his hand to Yuu, who hesitantly shook her hear. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Kalim asked, red eyes brimmed with unnatural worry as they walked farther and farther from the four boys.

“My hands...” Yuu trailed off, revealing her burns for the first time that day. Kalim stopped, taking her wrists as opposed to her hands to avoid agitating the sensitive area. His skin felt smooth and cool, somewhat calming her heartbeat.

“Did they do this to you?”

“No, I did. It was an accident this morning.” Yuu explained quietly, keeping her head low.

“Hey,” Kalim said softly. He let go of her wrists, hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. “You’re safe now. Come on, let’s get those burns healed.”

“Alright...”

<————>

Snuggling into the plush pillows at her back, Yuu sipped from her tea in the Scarabia lounge, lit by a few unscented candles, courtesy of Kalim.

It was a sweet, minty flavor that warmed her core, tears dried for the time being as she drank, wincing every so often at the enhanced sting in her palms.

“Can I see your hands, Yuu?” Kalim asked, sitting on his knees before her, a small container of something placed gingerly on the floor.

“Sure,” she nodded, setting her cup down as she exposed them to him. She sucked in a breath, they looked so much worse than that morning. Candy red and splotchy, it was inevitable that they’d crack and blister eventually.

Twisting open the cap, Yuu eyed the cloudy cream within, watching intently as Kalim dipped his fingers in, scooping out a little and smearing it on her palms, to which she smiled as the pain was relieved to some of extent. “Aloe vera. Jamil would always put it on my skin whenever I got burned.” Kalim revealed, grinning as he capped the container.

Yuu hummed, flexing her hands as Kalim watched, silently debating. “Yuu... how long have they been hurting you?” He said at last, fisting the floor.

“T-They... since before I met you.”

Kalim gasped. “What? Why didn’t you talk to me—or Jamil?! We would’ve helped you! We could’ve—“

“I didn’t want to seem weak!” Yuu shouted, silencing Kalim. “I wanted to show you I could handle myself... that I can be strong, like you guys! That I... that I...” She sniffled, using the back of her hands to block the tears that now threatened to fall.

“Oh, Yuu...” Kalim softened, scooting so close that their knees touched. He pried her arms away all too easily, threading his larger hands in the softness of her hair as his palms laid over her cheeks, wet with water. “I promise, I promise, I’d never see you like that. Never. It doesn’t matter if it’s daytime, noon, or night, always rely on me. I’m here, Jamil is here, and we care about you so, so much.”

At that, Yuu openly cried, grabbing onto his sleeves despite the fresh cream painted over her flesh. Kalim pressed his forehead to hers, using his thumbs to wipe away the glistening beads, hushing her sobs tenderly.

Kalim’s ears perked up as he heard approaching footsteps, looking over his shoulders to see Jamil, knuckles reddened as his glare morphed into a look of pity. Extending an arm, Kalim invited him over silently, to which he accepted.

Yuu’s eyes opened as she sensed someone kneel beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders like before. “They told me everything. I gave them what they deserved, and rest assured, each of thise imbeciles will be facing due punishment.” Jamil said, bruised knuckles a testimony.

“What if... What if they were right?” Yuu asked, voice cracking terribly.

“What?” The two asked in unison.

“All those things they called me... what if they were right? I really am just an incompetent waste, I should just go back to where I came from!” She wailed, Kalim and Jamil sharing beyond surprised gapes.

Kalim hesitated, opening and closing his mouth, unable to form coherent words. So Jamil did it for him. “Yuu, Yuu no. No, I can’t explain how wrong you are. Do you know how much you are loved in this school?” He asked, barely whispering.

“I... am?”

“Yes, of course you are! I’d miss you so much, everyone would!” Kalim admitted, looking to Jamil.

“But why? What do you see in... me?” Yuu continued doubtfully.

“Hm, well how about this for starters,” Jamil looked to Kalim, both of them sharing the same idea, “maybe because you’re funny, and can make me smile even when I’m frustrated.”

“Or because you’re kind, and always willing to lend a hand to someone that needs help,” Kalim followed, sliding a hand into Yuu’s.

“You’re gorgeous, like the sun, radiant and breathtaking.” Jamil ran a hand through a stray lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear.

“And you’re happy, just a bundle of laughter and smiles! You go along with all my crazy ideas, and I have so much fun with you!” Kalim finished, booping Yuu’s nose and making her giggle.

“You’re perfect, Yuu. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says.” Jamil smiled so genuinely, eyes squeezing shut.

“You’re a perfect desert flower, impeccable and extraordinary.”

Yuu covered her mouth as a new kind of tear streamed down her face, ones that spoke her gratitude rather than her sorrow. She laughed, twinkly and unfiltered, throwing her arms around Jamil and Kalim, pulling them into a bone crushing hug.

She didn’t say anything, just locked them in her embrace as she laughed and laughed, mixing with the sounds of Kalim and Jamil’s.

Swathed in the mingling warmth of her two best friends, Yuu’s chest was feather light for the first time in a long while, every insult and wound forgotten thanks to the sincerity poured into the boys’ speech.

She believed things could get better. She had faith, and now had her friends to anchor that faith.

Yuu beamed, as beautiful as a desert flower.

Oh boy, I may have gone a little overboard with this.

This was a wonderful prompt, I had so much fun with it! Thanks to @sanata101 for my first request! I hope you enjoyed!!

Stay lovely!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #kalim al asim #twst #mc/yuu #thanks for the ask!#dire crowley

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hobi-gang · 5 years ago

Text

community | knj/ot7

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 – an unlikely group of people at a Greendale Community College form an unlikely Spanish study group. One thing Kim Namjoon wants to know about the standoffish girl from Spanish class is; "What's her deal?".

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 – pure crack, humor, community college au, angst if you squint, they’re all 100% stupid

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 – knj x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 – 9.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 – mentions of aspergers, mentions of past drug abuse, namjoon is a bit of a dick oops, smoking (cigarettes)

𝐚/𝐧 – this is like... a straight up copy of the pilot to the tv show ‘community’, but i desperately wanted to see bts in that hilarious enivornment. i do not own the show ‘community’ nor do i own bts. this is just straight up crack. mcthank you.

"What is 'community college'?" A voice blared through the speakers around the quad, causing many students to pause and look at Dean Bang on his small podium with his microphone at the center of the busy square, the stupidly bright sun shining a light on him and all his khaki and white button-up glory. "Oh, wait, that's... That's the wrong card, let me start over."

After an awkward moment had passed and Dean Bang had properly sorted his notes, he spoke up into the microphone again, "Okay, good morning! Many of you are halfway through your first week here at Greendale Community College and as your dean, I thought I'd share some thoughts of wisdom and inspiration," he smiles then continues, "What is 'community college'? I know most of you have heard that it's loser college for remedial teens."

At the mention of remedial teens, Jeon Jungkook, a young boy with dark brown hair and jock attire, stopped scanning the campus map for his English class and looked around himself to find the source of the voice behind the speakers, tugging on his Letterman jacket nervously.

"They say it's for 20-something dropouts."

____ looked up from her Spanish study book and her eyes fell on the Dean and his pathetically small podium, rolling her eyes at him and feeling somewhat attacked and embarrassed by his accurate but harmful words.

"Or middle-aged divorcees."

Kim Seokjin, a tall and straight-back young man with kind eyes, plump lips, and short brown hair stops reading the pamphlet in his hand given to him by a member of the Chess Club that passed him by, looking around to find who's voice was blaring from the quad speakers. I'm not middle-aged... am I? he asked himself thoughtfully.

"And old people keeping their minds active as they circle the drain of eternity."

Min Yoongi's ears perked up at the mention of that, sitting up on the bench that he was slowly falling asleep on. His light violet hair making him stand out, he pulled his hoodie over his head so only his face was visible through the opening, scowling at the words 'old people', being reminded of how often he gets called a grandpa by his classmates for his somewhat lazy demeanor. I'm not middle-aged... am I? he asked himself thoughtfully.

"That's what you've heard, however," the Dean grins excitedly, "I wish you luck!" He thrusts his arm into the air in a victory pose.

He looks around at the small number of students that had bothered to stay in the quad in front of his small podium, looking at them expectantly before realizing and looking at his cue cards, "Oh, okay. Uh-oh. There's actually more to this speech. Can you all look around your immediate areas," He asks the students awkwardly, "There's a middle card missing, I actually really wanted to finish that properly-"

"I'm actually fully Korean, the son of immigrants. My parents are U.S citizens now, but they're not threats to national security. A lot of people wanna know that because my dad has an angry energy but he's not angry at America, he's just angry at my mom for leaving him. Although she did leave him because he was angry and he was angry because she wasn't. My name's Taehyung by the way."

"Well, Taehyung," Namjoon says wearily, glancing next to him at the younger, slightly shorter boy with ridiculously bright blue hair and a boxy smile following him like an eager puppy around the quad, he shakes his hand, "It was nice to know you and then meet you, in that order," he says to him with raised brows, "Now, about that question that I asked?"

"Oh, it was," Taehyung checks his watch, "11:05 when you asked-"

"Taehyung," Namjoon says abruptly, raising his hand to stop the younger boy from walking beside him, nodding towards the young girl across the quad with her face stuffed in a book. "What's the deal with the hot girl from Spanish class?"

"I only talked to her once when she borrowed a pencil," Taehyung says monotonously which makes Namjoon deflate a bit but he is quickly impressed by what the younger boy says next.

"But her name's ____, she's 23, birthday in September. She has two older sisters and one of them teaches a dance class that I might wanna lookup. Oh, and she thinks she's gonna fail tomorrow's Spanish test so she really needs to focus and she's sorry if that makes her seem cold," Taehyung finishes his gesturing and his confident spewing of words, looking up at the older, pink-haired boy with no indication of emotion.

Namjoon's mouth hangs agape for a moment, "Holy crap, Taehyung," he says in awe, "I see your value now." He pats Taehyung on the shoulder and gives him a meaningful look before he turns to walk into the school, leaving the younger boy behind.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!" Taehyung shouts to his older classmate as he's walking away, his finger pointed in the air as if for exclamation.

"Kim Namjoon, genius at law!"

"You gotta stop saying that, Lee Hyun... I'm kidding, keep going," Namjoon grins widely, closing the door behind him and stepping forward into his former client's cramped office to shake his hand across his wide, messy desk littered with papers and tools of all sorts.

"So," Hyun leans his arms atop the slew of papers on his desk and tilts his head slightly to look up at his much taller friend, "Tell me. What is my lawyer doing here?"

"Actually, I'm... a student now," Namjoon says with a timid smile, taking a seat on the couch of Hyun's office.

Hyun raises his eyebrows in surprise, "Well, that can't be an inspiring story."

"I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm in a bit of a kerfuffle... The state bar has suspended my license and they found out that my college degree was... less than legitimate." Namjoon confesses with as much confidence as he could muster, finding it difficult to spill the beans to his former client turned friend.

"I thought you had a degree from Columbia?" Hyun questions him, brows knit in confusion.

"Now I have to get one from America," Namjoon chuckles then sighs longingly, "And it can't be an email attachment."

"Well, you've picked a fine school," Hyun smiles, leaning back in his office chair with his arms crossed behind his head.

Namjoon snaps his fingers and agrees, "Yes! And I'm hoping that our friendship will yield certain advantages. You're the psychology professor, y'know, so I could really do with some academic guidance, maybe some moral support and... every answer to every test for every one of the classes that I'm taking this semester," Namjoon pulls a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his sport's jacket. "This is my schedule-" "Okay, Namjoon, just by asking that you are insulting the very integrity of this entire institution," Hyun chastises his friend, abruptly standing up which mildly alarms Namjoon but he is surprised to see Hyun grabbing a cane next to his desk and knocking on the window behind him. Through the open blinds and dirty windows, Namjoon can see the shape of a person that appeared to be urinating on a garbage skip. "Oi! Not a bathroom. Not. A. Bathroom." Hyun shouts out the window and then he scowls when the assailant quickly tucks their business away and runs off.

Namjoon exhaled noisily through his nose, "Hyun, you seemed less into integrity the day I convinced a dozen of your peers that when you made that U-turn on the freeway and tried to order hot wings from the emergency call box that your only real crime was loving America." He said with the hope that Hyun was finally going to turn over for him and help him cheat his way through college.

A moment passed and Hyun sighed, "I'll look into it."

"Thank you," Namjoon immediately took to his feet and reached over his friend's desk to shake his hand one last time. "Hyun, you are a good man." he smiled, going to the door.

Hyun rolled his eyes, "Namjoon, are you familiar with the adage 'cheaters never prosper'?"

The taller of the two scoffed and opened the door, "No, and if I wanted to learn something, I wouldn't have come to community college."

Hyun sighed and gave his friend a concerned look before waving him out of his office.

Namjoon found himself wandering the maze-like corridors of the school and ultimately ended up in the cafeteria. After purchasing a bottle of water and a suspiciously cheap packet of apple slices, Namjoon was lucky to spot a familiar head of soft brown hair. Walking over quietly, he steps closer to the girl from his Spanish class and spoke to her with an expression of surprise, "Oh, hey, Spanish?"

"Don't hit on me, okay?" the brown-haired girl answered with an annoyed tone, too engrossed in her work to even look up at the person speaking to her.

"I... wouldn't dream of it," he saved face, chuckling nervously. "I just wanted to let you know about... my Spanish study group!"

At the mention of a Spanish study group, she finally looked up and couldn't hold back the snicker bubbling inside of her at the prospect of who was standing right in front of her. Though his ego was a little hurt, he put on his charming smile paired with his signature dimples, almost as if he were modeling for her.

"Woah, the guy sitting in the back of class playing on his phone all day has a Spanish study group?" she gasps with faux excitement, raising a brow of suspicion at him. "Can I sign up twice?"

"Ha-ha," he precedes, "I'm taking the class for an easy credit, I'm actually a board-certified Spanish tutor," he says in a matter of factly manner to sound as convincing as possible.

"Can you say that in Spanish?" the brunette girl quickly responded.

Namjoon was stumped for a second but said the first few Spanish sentences that first came to his head. "Duermo tarde español, una hora más, no rasque mi coche," he said as smoothly as possible with a smirk. He didn't know it, but what he actually said was "I sleep late Spanish, one more hour, do not scratch my car," and he was praying that she didn't know either.

The look she was giving him was making him nervous, it was as if she knew he was lying and he was just about to tell her that he was lying until she slammed her book shut and leaned closer to him with wide, desperate eyes. "I really need help with Spanish," she confessed in a low voice.

"Yeah, I was willing to bet," Namjoon chuckled, extending his hand to her as a sign of goodwill. "I'm Namjoon by the way, or... Jefe," he smiled as she took his larger hand in her much smaller one. The comparison alone made his heart just a little bit more tender.

"The, uh, group meets in the library at four."

"I'm ____, and thanks." She smiles up at him, letting go of their handshake. She gathers her things and shoves them into her well-used canvas side bag and she stood up to leave.

"You're gonna be there, right?" he asks her and she just smirks at him one last time before turning her back on him and walking away.

"Un poquito más!" he shouted after her. "That means 'see you there'!"

Nope. It really meant 'a little more', but he could care less as long as she believed that he was right.

Namjoon sat alone at an eight-seater table in one of the library's study rooms, repeating the phrase for 'good afternoon' to himself in solitary, the library's population lowering as the minutes went by.

"Buenos tardes, buenos tardes, buenos tardes..." he repeated under his breath while tapping his pencil against the table, making sure he was right. With such a simple phrase, he couldn't get it wrong otherwise the hot girl from Spanish class would finally figure him out and he just can't let that happen.

"Hey," she enters the study room with a cheeky grin, her heavy bag slapping against her hip as she walked.

"Buenos tardes!" he says to her with pride, immediately straightening his posture and giving himself an internal high-five for getting it right, "Welcome to my Spanish study... uh, group. I've got the whole table."

"You've got the whole room," she adds with raised brows, taking the seat closest to him.

Namjoon digs around in his pocket for a piece of paper and he brings forth a crumpled chess club pamphlet that he remembers getting from the quad earlier that day. He flattens out the paper as best as he can before thrusting it towards her on the table along with his pencil. "Here's the, uh, contact sheet. Just put your number down there," he asks her and she snickers before accepting his pencil and jotting down her number.

Namjoon pretends to look around the room and out the doors to the rest of the library with exasperation, "Man, where's the rest of the group? They must be running late... But you and I can get acquainted in the meantime."

She finishes her jotting and puts the pencil on top of the paper before pushing it back towards Namjoon, "You might have noticed earlier in the cafeteria, I'm not that great at small talk."

"That's actually kinda great, I like big talk. What's your deal?" he smirks, leaning an elbow onto the table and raising his brows at her.

"That's not small talk?" she tilts her head to the side with a tight smile.

"What's your deal and is God dead?" he quickly adds to his previous question to make it fit her requirements.

She inwardly scoffs and lays her hands flat onto the table, "Okay, you wanna know my deal?" she asks him and he nods in response, "My deal is, above all else, honesty."

"Honesty..." Namjoon repeats, biting his cheek nervously.

"Yeah, if you're honest with me, I will like you. If you lie to me, I will never talk to you again. That's my deal."

With it all laid out in front of him, he felt compelled to tell her the truth. Sure, he may have lied to her before but he won't just lie to her now that she had just asked the truth of him so... He'd give her the truth. Well, an incomplete truth. It wasn't entirely lying but it wasn't entirely telling the truth either. It was a gray area, and as much as he liked this girl in front of him, he also liked having a smidge of integrity.

From the first day, he saw her in Spanish class and his attention was mostly on her throughout the entirety of each lesson. He'd look above the screen of his phone to watch her soft brown shoulder-length hair moving against her slender neck, he'd observe how her back was always straight and her shoulders were always pulled back. He also observed her unique and incredible fashion. He liked the bold, solid-colored sweaters and t-shirts and her high-waisted, wide-leg pants paired with stylish shoes of all kinds, all of it just made her hard to ignore, though she always carried the same, tattered canvas bag. Her sense of style clearly indicated that she preferred comfort over the other hundred pleasantries that women's fashion often offered, such as heels and skinny jeans. He liked that about her.

Today, her bright orange shirt and beige high-waisted, wide-leg pants only managed to highlight her feminine features more, making his focus and his breathing stray by just the smallest bit. The smallest. He didn't want to admit just how breathtaking she was, and she tended to take his breath away a lot without even trying and that's what was driving him to do whatever it took to keep her there in that study room with him, within reason of course.

"That's a pretty good deal," he told her honestly, irony aside.

"So," she crossed her arms over her chest, "what's your deal?"

"My deal?" Namjoon repeated, and she nodded in return.

The incomplete truth.

"I..." he looked at her and gulped, "I would, um, I would have to say... Uh, honesty. Because... I, uh, would say anything to get what I want and I-I want you to... To like me," for the first time since he had known her, and that hasn't exactly been a long time, he looked away in embarrassment and didn't look back up at her until she spoke up.

With a reluctant hmph, she says "That was a very honest answer. Okay, I like you now." And that makes his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really? Wow, you're easy," he says with disbelief, his heart slowing down just an ebb.

"Hey, guys!" someone spoke up behind Namjoon, making him turn in his chair to see that familiar head of bright blue.

The young brunette squealed with joy, "Taehyung in the house! Woo, yeah!" waving the blue-haired boy over excitedly.

"Woo!" Namjoon unenthusiastically whoops, brows knit in confusion watching as the boy grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and bringing it over to the table. "Woo! Woo-why?" he laughs confusedly.

Taehyung places his chair in the middle of both of their chairs, seating himself between the brunette girl and Namjoon. "Oh, ____ invited me! Is that cool?" he smiled, looking at the older boy with an oblivious smile.

"I can't think of a single logical reason why not!" Namjoon says through gritted teeth, a faux smile gracing his features. His eyes fall on the sheet of paper on the table, he immediately thrusts it towards the blue-haired boy, urging him to put his information on the paper.

"Cool... Cool, cool, cool," Taehyung murmured to himself as he slowly wrote his number down onto the paper. "This is kind of like Breakfast Club, huh?" Taehyung quips randomly.

"We are in a library," the brunette girl points out, patting Taehyung on the knee. Namjoon spotted that gesture out of the corner of his eye and felt the jealousy growing in his chest. Jealousy aside, he looks at Taehyung's number on the paper and he pulls his phone out, drafting a text to send to the blue-haired boy seated between him and the girl of his dreams.

"Yeah, I'm sure we've all got an issue balled up deep inside us that would make us cry if we talked about it," Taehyung says to his peers nonchalantly, but the worry etched on the brunette girl's features were all too serious.

She places a hand on his forearm and earnestly asks him, "Do you have something balled up inside of you?"

Taehyung looks up to the ceiling as if in thought and he responds, "Well, I do have a little doozy in the chamber if thing's get a little emotional."

Suddenly, Taehyung's phone pings and Namjoon puts his phone away, looking at the blue-haired boy expectantly, watching as the boy brings his phone out from his pocket and his eyebrows are raised in surprise, "Ooh, it's a text message! Let's give this bad boy a read," he says cheerily.

Namjoon panics, realizing that if he reads the text aloud, then the brunette girl sitting across from him would find out that it was him. "Oh, Taehyung," Namjoon says nervously, "I think it might be private."

"I've never gotten one of these before," Taehyung continues, ignoring the older boy's urgencies. Namjoon would've felt a little bit of pity in his chest at the sound of how sad that sentence actually was if it weren't for the fact that he was very close to being exposed.

"Say you have to pee, I need to talk to you." The blue-haired boy reads aloud with a confused tone. "Say you have to pee," he repeats, holding his phone screen towards the brunette girl so she could read it and she looked just as confused as he did. Her confusion quickly turned to suspicion, looking at the two boys sitting next to her.

"That is weird," she commented. "What does that even mean?" Taehyung questions both of them and Namjoon quickly shrugged.

"I don't know man, that sounds strange. Do you even have to pee?" Namjoon asks and Taehyung shakes his head 'no'.

"Hmm," Namjoon murmurs, "I'm stumped, that sounds very creepy."

"That makes two of us," Taehyung concurs with a shrug. In the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see the brunette girl eyeing him and he knows that she knows that it was him.

Namjoon's phone chimes and he looks to make sure that it wasn't Taehyung messaging him back and further making him fall into a pit of mortification. He reads the text that was sent to him and realizes it's Lee Hyun, his former client and now his possible conspirator and hero.

'con-4-s-8-tion on football field now!!! - Hyun"

"What's that?" The brunette girl asks him and he is brought out of his bubble.

"Does it say 'you have to pee'?" Taehyung asks.

"Oh, no, it's just someone with an impossibly bad grasp on abbreviations. I've gotta step out for a bit," he says, getting out of his chair and shoving his phone into his pocket, "I'll be back in like five minutes but, uh, go ahead and start studying verbs... In, uh, Spanish," he concludes, waving to his peers before stepping out of the study room.

Once he's out of ear-shot, the brunette girl smiles and nudges Taehyung on the knee, "What's your read on that guy, Taehyung?"

Taehyung looks at her and tilts his head to the side, appearing as though he were analyzing her.

"You look like my interpretation of God," he says randomly, making her raise a brow in confusion.

"Ethnically ambiguous," he adds, and she forms an 'o' with her mouth and nods at his words.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Namjoon's light jogging has turned into a brisk walk as he finally spots his friend standing at the edge of the school's football field, the football team on the field practicing on a variety of equipment in the heat.

"Suppose I say to you 'it's possible to get those test answers'?" Hyun says aloud once he realizes Namjoon is next to him.

"I would say 'go with that' and 'you could've put that in a text'," Namjoon responds frustratedly. "I'm asking you if you know the difference between right and wrong," Hyun eggs on.

"I discovered at a very early age that if I talk long enough, I can make anything right and wrong. So, either I'm God or truth is relative. In either case, booyah."

"Oh, interesting! It's just that the average person finds it difficult to say 'booyah' to moral relativism."

"Hyun, you don't have to play the shrink to protect your pride. I accept. You're chicken," Namjoon smirks at his friend, expecting a reaction that came faster than he anticipated.

"I'm a professor, you can't talk to me that way!" Hyun huffs loudly.

"A six-year-old girl could talk to you that way!" Namjoon retorts with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, because that would be adorable!" Hyun thrusts his arms into the air in exclamation.

"No, because you're a five-year-old girl and there's a pecking order!" Namjoon bites back.

"Fine, I'll do it!" Hyun argues back with his hands flapping about.

"Thank you," Namjoon smiles, patting Hyun on the shoulder before walking away and leaving Hyun to stand in the field by himself with a look of shock etched into his face.

Namjoon found himself getting closer to the entrance of the library study room and began reciting his prepared excuse aloud from memory, "You guys aren't going to believe this but the rest of the study group-"

The words were snatched right out of his mouth when he finally came to the doorway and found that all but 2 seats were full. 2 empty seats remaining for him and... for the brunette girl from Spanish class.

"Is here..." Namjoon finishes under his breath, looking at each of the new faces in the room, except they weren't very new. He recognized them from somewhere, he just couldn't pinpoint where.

"Are you the 'board-certified' tutor?" One of the new faces asked, his light violet hair peeking out from beneath his hoodie and both hands tucked into his pocket, a bored expression on his face.

"That means you'll do my homework, right?" A rather young boy with a letterman jacket spoke arrogantly, a cheeky grin on his face and his hand already extending out towards Namjoon, a thin stack of papers gripped between his fingers.

"I'll need to call my babysitter if we're gonna be staying later than 10," Another young man spoke up from the table, his proper attitude shining with his posture and articulate words, his plump lips pulled into a gentle smile.

"What board certifies a tutor?" A rather small and slender boy speaks up from the side of the table, his eyes examining Namjoon beneath his clementine bangs with a speculative gaze, both arms crossed over his chest tightly.

"Aren't you the guy that plays games on their phone in the back of the class?" A giddy boy chirps from the other side of the table, his round cheeks and light brown, gleaming eyes drawing his attention.

Namjoon raised his brows at the group of rather attractive young men gathered at the table. His gaze falls on Taehyung's bright blue head. "Where's ____?"

"Not sure, but I invited more people from Spanish class. Is that cool?" Taehyung says. Ah, so that's where he can recognize them from.

"That's the... coolest," Namjoon manages to squeeze out from between his teeth with as enthusiastic a tone as possible, trying his best to hide his frustration. Taehyung gives the older man a thumbs up and a smile. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Namjoon begins to say, collecting his things that he had left on the table previously, "and I'm gonna bring my jacket, wallet and my keys with me... In case there's a fire."

Namjoon tucks his items in his arms and leaves the study room.

Exiting the library, Namjoon bumped into someone and almost chastised them until he realized who it is.

"Busted," she says with a smirk, making Namjoon's heart pound in his chest. "Uh, listen-"

"Now you know. I'm a smoker," she says shamefully, lifting a lit cigarette into view and putting it back down to her side so the smoke doesn't get in their way.

"Yeah, but... They're filtered so that makes them safe," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, making her smile after she had made quite the admission.

"You ready to get started? Looks like the rest of your group showed up," she asks him, teasing him with a gentle bump of her shoe on his shin.

Namjoon hisses in faux pain and laughs, "Yeah, that's not my group. I think maybe Taehyung took out an ad on Craigslist," he says with uncertainty, "and I was trained never to say this but... I think that group may be untutorable."

"Oh really?" she says in a sing-song fashion, only egging him on.

"So, why don't you and I study verbs over-"

"Dinner?" she says in an attempt to finish his sentence.

"Or, uh, drinks..." he shrugs carelessly.

"I think we should actually prioritize here and study first and then go to dinner," she offers, "And if they really prove to be untutorable, we'll slip out early."

Discarding her finished cigarette butt to the ground and stomping out the heat with her chunky sole, she slipped into the library and the look she gave him before slinking away behind the closing door made Namjoon bite his cheek to contain his excitement. "Oh they'll be untutorable, alright," he says to himself, his minding already running with ideas on how to make or ruin the fastest study session in history.

Namjoon wanders into the study room and finds everyone in their seats, looking up at him with anticipation. He finds himself at the head of the table and he musters up the energy to try and turn this night into a disaster or into the fastest study session anyone has ever seen.

"All right," he begins with a tight smile, "Look at this group, ready to study all night."

"Well, I can stay at least till ten," The proper young man says amongst the quiet murmurs coming from around the table.

"But," Namjoon interjects, "Who studies with strangers, right? My name is Namjoon."

"Namjoon, it's a pleasure. My name is Min Yoongi," the man at the end of the table stands up to reach over the table at an attempt to shake Namjoon's hand, "And yes that is Min as in Min's Mics," Yoongi stops his reach for the handshake, making Namjoon awkwardly slink back into his chair, "The award-winning microphone production company."

"I was just about to ask..." Namjoon bumped his eyebrows up in annoyance.

"I'm also a toastmaster, so perhaps I should do the introductions!" Yoongi insists with a lazy grin.

"Definitely!" Namjoon encourages, already sensing that Yoongi's loose and unbothered energy was bound to mess things up in the room.

Yoongi claps his hands again and immediately gestures to the brunette sitting beside Namjoon, "You already know ____,"

The brunette girl immediately corrects him and Namjoon can't help but snicker at the incredibly fast screw-up.

"Hockey sock," Yoongi points toward the boy sitting to Namjoon's right side.

"It's Hoseok," the brown-haired boy spoke up, pausing his sketching to correct the man at the other end of the table with an amused look.

"Tater tot."

"My name is Taehyung," the blue-haired boy chided.

"Junk food."

The boy sitting beside Yoongi gave him a look of confusion, "I literally just told you my name like four minutes ago, dude, it's Jungkook."

Yoongi then gestures to the orange-haired person on the other side of the table, "That's Prince Jam."

"Jimin," the young boy narrowed his eyes at the self-proclaimed toastmaster.

"And finally, this is Seokjin," Yoongi smiled gently, staring for just a second too long at the man sitting right next to him.

"Is that even close?" Namjoon asks the supposed 'Seokjin', and he receives a timid nod in return, the young man squirming uncomfortably under Yoongi's continued gaze.

"Can you teach us how to say curse words in Spanish?" Hoseok asks, tapping his pencil against the table. "Unfortunately, no," Namjoon answers with a sigh.

"How do I become board-certified? And I actually agree with Jimin, what board certifies a tutor?" Hoseok persists, Jimin agreeing with his questions with a curt nod.

"That's actually a really great question. Next?" Namjoon smiles innocently, turning his attention elsewhere to avoid any more questions about his faux tutoring origins.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to know why I had to find out about this group on accident," Jimin sits up, raising his chin in a show of confidence.

Taehyung's brows are knit in anticipation, "Oh this is getting way more like Breakfast Club now."

"There's breakfast?" Yoongi asks confusedly.

"Okay, um, maybe we should-" the brunette girl began to speak up in an attempt to break the tension.

"You know," Namjoon interrupts her and he receives a glare in return, "I've been a part of a lot of study groups that fell apart because of unresolved tension. Shouldn't we address Jimin's concern? Did we not invite him?"

"Oh, Jimin, honey, it's not behind your back. We just didn't want to-" Seokjin tries to comfort the younger boy sitting next to him but is immediately interrupted. The brunette girl was starting to notice that interrupting each other was becoming a trend, and she didn't like it at all.

"Can we stop with the 'honeys' and the 'sweeties'? Being younger does not make me inferior, if anything, your age indicates that you made bad life decisions!" Jimin responds sharply, almost shaking with equal amounts of nervousness and irritation.

Seokjin inhales quickly and starts shaking his head, making noises of disagreement, as though he were trying to hold back the hurtful words that wanted to slip off his tongue by instinct.

"Seokjin has a reply to that," Namjoon says, making the brunette girl's head snap in his direction, utterly confused as to why he would try to stoke the flames of this argument.

Everyone around the table except for the brunette girl murmurs their agreements, seeing Seokjin narrow his eyes at the smaller, younger boy sitting beside him. "Okay, okay. I'm sure... I've made s-some bad life decisions, I am a single, divorced father of two after all but maybe Jimin's life decisions will be better! But I think he needs to decide whether he wants to be considered a child or an adult because children get pity but not respect, and adults, they get respect! They also get the back of their heads grabbed and their faces pushed through jukeboxes!" Seokjin quickly says at the end of his sentence, his eyes wide, fierce and full of unsubtle rage.

"Why don't we try learning 'jukebox" in Spanish?' The brunette girl speaks up, trying to divert everyone's attention but it doesn't appear to work.

"What are you doing? Are you seriously falling asleep right now?" Seokjin says aloud, everyone's eyes falling upon the purple-haired Yoongi at the end of the table, who is dozing off on the spot.

Jungkook snorts, "Really, grandpa?" he says jokingly to his older classmate, Hoseok unable to hold in his laughter at the teasing going on in front of him.

"Hey. I am a prominent business leader and a highly sought-after dinner guest and I will not be made fun of by some- some teenage boy," Yoongi responds with a sloppy snarl.

"Well, this teenage boy is a quarterback and a prom king," Jungkook retorts, adding a flourish to his argument with a tug of his collar.

Jimin scoffs amusedly, "You're not prom king anymore, Jungkook. This isn't Riverside High."

"How'd you know I went there?" Jungkook asks Jimin with a confused expression.

The orange-haired boy's smile falters from his face but he straightens his back nonetheless, "Because you're still wearing your stupid letter jacket, and more importantly... I sat behind you in Algebra!" Jimin scans Jungkook's face for any sign of realization and he feels a bit better once he sees it flash across Jungkook's features, but his stomach drops with what he hears next.

"Wait, aren't you the guy that got hooked on pills and dropped out? You're little Jammy Jimin," Jungkook laughs, clapping his hands and doubling over.

Jimin gasps, "Oh yeah? And you're a stupid jock who lost his scholarship by dislocating both shoulders in a keg stand!"

"Keg flip! They are very hard to pull off! No-" Jungkook corrects him, then everyone erupts into overlapping arguments. As everyone begins shouting at each other, the brunette girl's face is that of a witness to absolute horror, especially once she sees Namjoon looking at all the drama unfold with an amused look. Suddenly, Taehyung slams his hand down on the table, garnering everyone's attention and effectively shutting them up.

"You know what I got for Christmas? It was a banner year at the Bender family. I got a carton of cigarettes. The old man grabbed me. He said, 'Hey, smoke up, Johnny.'," Taehyung says animatedly, "No, dad! What about you?" he ends with one last shout, leaning back in his chair, the satisfied smile on his face indicating that he had completed his bit.

"Well, that actually was from Breakfast Club," Namjoon points out and everyone finally understands what Taehyung was talking about, their mouths forming 'o's.

"Nobody puts Baby in the corner," Taehyung murmurs again. "Dirty Dancing," Namjoon responds and he receives a smile and an excited 'yeah' from the blue-haired boy in return.

In the midst of everyone looking at each other with confused expressions, Namjooon's phone buzzes once again and sees that someone is trying to call him.

Namjoon answers his phone and is greeted by Hyun talking in a deep, unusually gravelly voice. "It's Professor Lee Hyun, come to the parking lot now."

"What's wrong with your voice?" Namjoon scrunches his nose at the unpleasant sound coming through the receiver. "I'm... disguising it." Namjoon was about to smugly inform his friend that there was no point in trying to disguise his voice if he was going to tell him his name in the first place, but Hyun hung up on him before he had the chance.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he announces to the group that he is leaving for a bit, "but while I'm gone, you guys need to hash this stuff out. No stone unturned... Go!" he declares, quickly escaping once more. Before he even laid a step outside the study room, he could already hear the sounds of their bickering - a sign of their very close and very eventual turmoil and his very inevitable date with the hot brunette from Spanish class.

As soon as Namjoon stepped outside the school gates, he spotted Lee Hyun in a comically small blue smart car right in the front of the school. After managing to squeeze his gangly limbs into the passenger seat, he slammed the car door shut and reached out for the large and thick manila folder that was resting in his much smaller friend's hands.

"Every answer to every test in your curriculum this semester," Lee Hyun said proudly. "I knew you could do it, buddy. Thank you," Namjoon sighed thankfully but Hyun was snatching the folder away before he managed to grab a hold of it. "Woah there, cowboy. What do I get out of all this?"

"Uh, the satisfaction of being even?" Namjoon says as if it's the most obvious thing that there was. "Even, fairness, right, wrong, there is no God, booyah, booyah," Hyun listed off in an annoying tone that made Namjoon cringe.

"What do you want from me?" Namjoon asked reluctantly.

"Your Lexus."

"My car? For a semester's worth of answers?" Namjoon scoffed in disbelief.

"Will it be just a semester though, Namjoon? Won't you be taking the easy way out for the next four years? I want payment in advance. I want leather seats with built-in butt warmers," Hyun grinned mischievously.

"What am I supposed to drive?" Namjoon asks through gritted teeth, "You should take this car! It's good for the earth," Hyun smiled at him.

"So is wiping your butt with a leaf but it's not how a man gets around!" Namjoon shouted in frustration. Hyun visibly deflated, shoulders slumped and manila folder waiting patiently for the taking from the palm of his hand. Namjoon eyed the folder in his friend's hand and weighed the options in his head. With a groan, Namjoon snatched the folder out of his hand and hopped out of the impossibly cramped blue smart car as quickly as possible.

____ spots Namjoon weaving through the library entrance and she darts out of the study room to leave the arguing mess of a study group to confront its creator. "It is a disaster in there!"

"Yeah, untutorable. Do you like Thai food? I love Thai food."

"Wait, so... This is a game to you?" the young brunette girl asked with arms crossed over her chest and resting her weight on her right leg. "You put a group of human beings into a state of emotional shambles just for a shot at getting in my pants?"

"Why can't you see that for the compliment that it is?" Namjoon stressed.

"Unbelievable," she sneered, clenching her fists against her chest in anger. Namjoon didn't mean to look at her chest at that time, it was just where her hands were and the sight of them clenching and unclenching somehow made his heart race. It wasn't fear or disbelief, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what the emotion was. As he noticed that her brown eyes were intensely watching him, he quickly averted his gaze and pretended to submit to her to see what she wanted and if he felt like he was bothered enough to keep jumping through these high hoops for her.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks her, tilting his head to look down at her. "Oh, maybe one decent thing you can do is go in there and clean up your mess," she tells him, looking at him expectantly.

Namjoon pursed his lips and looked into the "Okay, if I do that, then dinner... Right?" he questions her with a perked brow.

The young brunette's mouth hung agape in disbelief and she laughed quietly, her eyes unable to leave the sight of the unbelievable man she'd ever seen. As selfish and egotistical as he was, there was an underlying part of her that felt flattered by his drive and want for her. It was a very small part and the group's needs very clearly trumped that.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," she said with a shrug, stepping back into the study room. "As if there's a dinner on earth that can make me forget that you are a shallow douchebag."

Watching her walk away was something he had the pleasure of doing a handful of times already, and each time felt better than the last but this time, he couldn't quite find the appeal when she was very clearly mad at him. "Oh, you are gonna eat those words when you see my new car!" His face falls when he remembers the trade he had just made with the psychology professor just moments ago.

"Alright, everybody!" Namjoon shouted above everyone else, slamming his Spanish textbook onto the table, everyone's attention now on him. "I wanna say something. Everybody, sit down." "You don't have to yell," Seokjin muttered under his breath, situating himself back into his chair, the others following suit.

"You know what makes humans different from other animals?" Namjoon asks rhetorically, but Jungkook immediately answers, "Feet."

"No, no. Come on, beers have feet," Yoongi said smugly but by the look on Seokjin and Jimin's faces, it was clear he was wrong.

Namjoon quickly put them back on topic, "We are the only species on earth that observes 'Shark Week'. Sharks don't even observe 'Shark Week' but we do, for the same reason I can pick up this pencil, tell you it's name is Steve and go like this," Namjoon picks up his pencil from the table and snaps it in half, earning a quiet chorus of gasps and pained groans.

"And part of you dies just a little bit on the inside because people can connect with anything. We can sympathize with pencils, we can forgive a shark and we can give Ben Affleck an Academy Award for screenwriting."

Yoongi cringes at the mention of Ben Affleck and Taehyung agrees with him, everyone at the table nodding their agreements.

"People can find the good in just about anything but themselves. Look at me, it's clear to all of you that I am awesome but I can never admit that because that would make me an ass but what I can do is see what makes Jimin awesome," everyone turns to look at Jimin who is fighting the rush of blood that is desperate to get to his cheeks and the pull of a smile against his lips, "Jimin is driven. We need driven people or the lights go out and the ice-cream melts," Namjoon says.

"And Yoongi. We need guys like Yoongi. This guy has wisdom to offer," Yoongi scrunches his nose. "Is this part of the grandpa joke? Come on-"

"We should listen to him sometime! We wouldn't regret it. And Seokjin," Namjoon gestures to Seokjin with a pointed finger, "Seokjin has earned our respect. Not as a husband, not as a father, but as a man. And don't test him on that because the thing about the jukebox was way too specific to be improvised," Seokjin's eyes widened a little bit at Namjoon's speculation but he gave no indication as to whether he thinks Namjoon had stumbled upon the truth or not.

"And Hoseok, the guy that keeps asking questions. We need intuitive people like that, we need people that keep asking questions otherwise people we will never find the answers, Hoseok is the answer," he points at Hoseok who is giving him a shy smile in return.

"And Jungkook. Who cares if Jungkook thinks he's all that? Maybe he is," Jungkook looked nervous from the moment Namjoon started giving his opinions on each of the group members but a small smile fell on his face after hearing the caring words that the older boy had for him.

"And Taehyung. Taehyung is a shaman. You ask him to pass the salt, he gives you a bowl of soup. Because you know what? Soup is better. Taehyung is better. You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself," Namjoon tells them, his gestures becoming wilder to continue to be engaging as his speech went on.

"Soup?" Yoongi says confusedly.

"Turn to the person next to you," Namjoon tells them. He watches as Jimin turns to Seokjin, Yoongi turns to Jungkook, Taehyung turns to Hoseok, as the young brunette girl turns to him and looks up at him with her wide, gleaming eyes.

"I want you to extend to the person the same compassion that you extend to sharks, pencils and Ben Affleck. I want you to say to that person 'I forgive you'."

He watches Jimin, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok express their forgiveness to each other, inwardly smiling to himself at the warming sight but his attention is piqued when he sees that Yoongi is being reluctant.

"I forgive you," Jungkook says to his partner earnestly. Yoongi rolls his eyes and calls him a little twerp. "Yoongi," Namjoon urges, "I'd like you to say 'I forgive you'."

Yoongi exhales slowly through his nose, his features tense as he quickly and quietly mumbles out an "I forgive you" to Jungkook who grins in return.

"You've just stopped being a study group, you have become something unstoppable. I hereby pronounce you a community," Namjoon proclaims proudly.

Seokjin awe's, "Oh, that's nice," he shares with a gentle smile, joining the rest of the people on the table in applauding Namjoon for his powerful speech.

"This isn't like Breakfast Club anymore, now it's like Stripes or Meatballs, anything with Bill Murray really," Taehyung adds with a pointed finger. "I agree with Taehyung here, tonight has been very special. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner engagement with ____," Namjoon says, looking down at the brunette girl with a grin and an extended hand.

She looks up to him sweetly before saying, "I lied. Thanks for calming everyone down but since you're not a Spanish tutor, just a lying creep who purposely upset everyone in an attempt to get with me, I'd appreciate it if you left and stopped wasting all of our time."

Namjoon quickly digested his shock and muttered out, "Fine, and I'm happy to report that one of the benefits of being a lying creep is having all the answers to tomorrow's test," he gestures to the thick manila folder on the table in front of him. "And I'm happy to share them with anyone who's time I've wasted more than they've wasted mine," his eyes glance over to the young brunette beside him, noting the way she is glaring at him with, somehow, adorably flared nostrils.

"Uh, Namjoon. If you have all the answers, why the hell did you start this study group?" Yoongi asks with an appropriate amount of confusion.

"I don't have a study group, I made it up," Namjoon stated frankly.

Jimin's brows knit in dejection, a small but noticeable pout becoming more obvious as his bottom lip starts to tremble just by the slightest, "But... What about your speech?"

"I made it up! That's what I do, I make things up and I got paid a lot of money to do it before I came to this school shaped toilet, I was a lawyer."

Everybody moans and groans at the mention of the fact that Namjoon was a lawyer, eyes rolling and noses scrunching.

"I thought you were Bill Murray in any of his films, but you're more like Michael Douglas in any of his films," Taehyung tells Namjoon with the same monotonous tone he'd been using all day, though this time it seemed to be tinged with a bit of disappointment.

"Oh yeah? Well, you have Asperger's." Namjoon says bluntly before gathering his things in his arms and slamming the study room door behind him. The young brunette girl's gaze falls to the vacant spot at the doorway left by his vacuous presence, horrified at his change in attitude. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that this dude was sketchy, from the moment she laid her eyes on him at the back of Spanish class, sitting uninterestedly in each lesson with his phone in his hand paying attention to nobody, not even the teacher which she considered to be quite the feat since the Spanish teacher was... an inconceivable character, to say the least.

What was scary was that she had also doubted that he was telling the truth about his deal with her earlier. Maybe he really is honest. The real difficulty in this was deciding whether that was a good thing or not.

"Did he just say 'ass burger'?" Jungkook snorted, slapping the table.

"It's a serious disorder," Jimin tells Jungkook, "It really is," Seokjin concurs, becoming upset that Jungkook, and now Yoongi, appear to be making fun of the name.

"If it's so serious, why don't they call it 'professional burger'?" Yoongi wheezes, lightly slapping Jungkook on the arm as they quietly laugh with each other.

Taehyung didn't seem to mind one bit. If he did, he didn't show it which helped to settle the brunette girl's worries by a smidge.

Namjoon stepped outside the library building with a huff, exasperated from being in such a draining situation. In the back of his mind, he couldn't believe that he had done what he did to these strangers. Well, they were his classmates and that made it worse, him realizing that he would have to see these people again in the future. Pushing those thoughts to the very darkest depths of his mind, he inhaled the cold air of the outside, staying under the light of the library veranda so he could actually get a good look at those papers that Hyun had given him. At least one good thing came out of this day, or so he thought.

Opening the seal at the top of the large manila, he proceeded to pull out a thick pile of papers, the first of which appeared to be blank. Namjoon's heart began to race as he flipped through the hundreds of papers in his hands to find that they were all blank on both sides except for the last paper which had the word 'booyah' written in all caps in Sharpie.

"Hyun," Namjoon growled under his breath, shoving the papers back into the manila folder angrily and making his way to the professor's office.

There sat Hyun with his feet crossed on top of his desk, leaning back in his office chair and sipping on a glass of brandy when Namjoon slammed his office door open.

"Okay, now before you say anything, I want you to think about the gift you've been given," Hyun hummed happily, raising his glass to Namjoon leaning against his office doorway.

"An excuse to punch a pathetic professor at a community college?" Namjoon tilts his head with a far too serious expression.

Hyun coughs, "Erm, no, not that. An important lesson, my friend. You see, the tools you acquired to survive out there will not help you here at Greendale. What you have here my friend is a second chance at an honest life."

"Give me my keys," Namjoon demands from him, clearly ignoring his friend's pitiful attempt to teach him a lesson about integrity, honesty or what have you.

"W-what? No, I have to keep your car for the lesson- Okay, don't hit me!" Hyun shrieks and tosses the car keys to Namjoon once he begins to storm over to his friend's desk with rage-filled eyes.

Namjoon walks away quickly, desperate to be anywhere but at that school at the moment. "Are we cool!?" Hyun shouts out the door as soon as he's gone, pausing for a moment to wait for a response. When he gets nothing in return, he just shrugs and sips his brandy, "We cool.".

"I like you, Namjoon," Yoongi says to the younger man as he spots him walking briskly past the entrance to the library, "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

Namjoon pauses and sighs, hanging his head low at the prospect of being similar to this older and, from what he's seen so far, a horribly awkward but entitled individual. "I deserve that."

He walks up the stairs to sit next to the older boy, seating himself one step down on the stairs so they were equal in height. "Y'know, I've been called grandpa nine times now? I mean, there are literal grandpas here on campus but even they don't called grandpa. They get called by their first names, like normal grandpas. Sometimes I think I'm doing something wrong."

Namjoon put his hand on Yoongi's shoulder and said to him, "Maybe it's because of the way you act. You fall asleep everywhere, you always ask the most random questions and you scowl at everyone and you say stuff like 'when I was your age' to people that aren't that much younger than you. You've gotta stop doing that, man."

Yoongi sighed, "I've never looked at it that way..."

"Hey guys," Hoseok spoke up, coming up from behind them.

"Oh, hey," Namjoon said to him. "Aren't you guys supposed to be studying right now?"

Jungkook emerged from around the corner and shrugged, "It kinda got boring after you left," he admitted. Following him out of the entrance of the library was the rest of the group, Seokjin, Taehyung, Jimin and the brunette girl.

"Shouldn't you be rolling around on a bed covered in test answers," the brunette girl smirked down at him, her hands holding the strap of her bag.

"I don't have any of the answers," he said with a tight smile, abandoning the manila folder on to the steps below him, "I'm just gonna fail the test."

"If you just study for like an hour, it's not that hard," Hoseok told him, "Yeah," Jungkook agreed. "You seem pretty smart, you have a sports coat," Jungkook told him, gesturing to Namjoon's jacket.

"Well, the funny thing about being smart is that you can get through most of life without ever having to do any work. So, uh, I'm not really... Sure how to do that," Namjoon confessed with solace, hanging his head low.

Behind him, the group began silently gesturing to each other. Jimin mouthed to the brunette girl, "Please? he's so sad." In return, the brunette girl mimed, pointing at Namjoon and then putting a finger in her mouth and pretend-puking. Seokjin expressed saddened shock, clasping his hands together as if he were begging the brunette girl into agreeing with them.

Taehyung looked at the scene with confusion and he spoke up, "What's going on? Can you guys hear me right now? Am I deaf, can you guys hear me talking? Can you guys hear me talking right now?" the group all said "Yes" in response. "Ah, okay, good," Taehyung said, giving them a thumbs up.

"Y'know what? Namjoon, we actually didn't get that far without you so if you wanna come back inside..." the brunette girl said to him.

"Really?" Namjoon asked with an uncertain tone.

"Well, it is your study group." The brunette girl said with a lopsided grin, turning around and stepping back into the library.

"Come on, let's study," Seokjin said to him sweetly, following the brunette girl back into the building. "Sounds good," Yoongi replied, patting Namjoon on the shoulder and going back inside with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin trailing behind him.

"I'm sorry I called you Michael Douglas and I see your value now," Taehyung said to him, stepping past Namjoon and entering the library.

"Well, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Namjoon said to himself, pushing himself off the steps and walking back into the library to join the unlikely group that he had just created, a group that he somehow feels he will be close with. Sure, they had gotten off to a rocky and deceitful start, but he can tell that some of them are already warming up to each other despite having argued for hours both in and out of his absence. That's gotta say something.

Perhaps it's saying that they really are a community now.

8 notes · View notes

kae-karo · 5 years ago

Note

Hi can you write 13 and 21 please sry if I ask for too much :)

for context (x - make me write things!)

oh my gosh first of all please do not feel like u have to apologize i love any opportunity to write my fave ships and this was no different also i just need to say ur icon and header are amajiki and kiri two of the best Best Boyes on the entire show i literally love them and would die for them

anyway! thank u so much and i hope u enjoy and don’t mind that i put these as two separate lil prompts

13. “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.” - hawks - [read on ao3] - this is loosely based on the idea of hawks having bird-like qualities, specifically raptor stress grip (x) but also the idea that he likes being preened

21. “This might sound selfish, but I don’t care about the world - I only care about you!” - villain!denki - [read on ao3] - go read this (x) first cause i feel like this suits a part 2

–

13 - [read on ao3]

Hawks’ grip on his arm is something unusual - not quite strong enough to be classed as painful, but strong nonetheless. Any harder and it might border on the feeling of his father dragging him around as a child, his hand so tight it threatened to snap his arm. But this falls short of that, and Dabi’s grateful.

He’d rather that anything associated with Hawks be positive, or at least not remind him of his past.

“You’re sure it’s fine?” Hawks asks for the twelfth time in the past ten minutes. Dabi huffs out a breath of laughter.

“Yes, it’s totally fine,” he reassures Hawks yet again. He’s only ever done this to Dabi once before, but it already feels strangely comforting to know that, in some way, he chose to seek out Dabi when he’d become overwhelmed.

It’s a stress thing - something to do with his quirk, Hawks told him - and Dabi wonders if he should really be appreciative of something that’s a source of unease for Hawks. Not that he knows what exactly happened, but he assumes if it were important, Hawks would’ve told him by now.

Maybe it’s selfish, but he kind of hopes Hawks continues to stay stressed out. Dabi’s not used to having him this close for however long it takes him to calm down, but he’s starting to enjoy the company.

Dabi watches patiently as Hawks’ gaze flicks around the empty room - Dabi’s room, where he’d been going through some profiles for other potential recruits before Hawks had burst in. The last time this had happened, it’d only lasted for maybe fifteen minutes, which means his time with Hawks is likely running out.

Although Hawks doesn’t look any less stressed than when he’d rushed in, not that Dabi’s complaining.

“You should, uh…” Hawks nods at Dabi’s papers. “I didn’t mean to take you away from whatever you were doing.” Dabi shakes his head.

“You didn’t interrupt, it can wait.” Dabi can wait, he could wait an eternity with Hawks clinging to him like this. Hawks’ fingers tighten on Dabi’s arm just slightly.

“No, that’s-” He shakes his head. “It’s really not helping, worrying that I’m keeping you from doing stuff.” Hawks’ voice is relatively even, but his eyes never stop wandering the room, and Dabi’s starting to wonder if this is going to last a bit longer than the first time. He crushes down the little spark in his chest that says he hopes it does.

Hawks is clearly still stressed, and Dabi shouldn’t be taking advantage of that. No matter how it makes him feel to have Hawks so close.

So he picks up a paper, the one he’d been looking at before Hawks barrelled in and plopped down beside him on his bed, and scans it superficially.

At first, it’s truly just with the intent of appeasing Hawks’ nerves and pretending he’s focused on his work instead of the warm grip of Hawks’ hands on his arm, but it soon becomes a genuine effort. He’s pretty sure he’s the only one in the League actively searching for potential new recruits, and he’ll be damned if this whole thing falls apart while Shigaraki is away. Not that he had officially dubbed Dabi his replacement, but Dabi’s pretty sure it was implied.

Besides, nobody else is really fit to take up the mantle.

So he loses himself in the various pages he’d printed - his eyes started hurting from staring too long at a computer screen - and searches with intent for the right qualities that might make another useful member of the team. Or pawn, depending on what they bring to the table.

With his eyes buried in endless pages, it takes him nearly an hour to realize Hawks’ head has slowly drifted to rest on his shoulder. In fact, it takes Hawks huffing out a breath that might be laughter for Dabi to notice this new position, and he has to reign in the sudden racing of his heart to prevent it from scaring Hawks away.

But his hands haven’t moved from their spot on Dabi’s arm, and Dabi lets his gaze drift to the tufts of hair tickling his neck.

“You really think that kid’s going to be of any use?” Hawks says, his tone light and humorous but more than obviously forced. Whatever’s going on in his head, his it’s clear that his concerns haven’t subsided. Dabi’s starting to wonder if he should be asking about what happened, why he’s so stressed all of a sudden.

“I think he has potential.” Dabi rearranges the pile of papers he’d just set this profile down on top of. “Why, you don’t?” He hadn’t said a word about what he was doing, but Hawks must live up to his name - he must have incredible observation skills to notice how Dabi has been organizing these people, to recognize which pile was for the ones he deemed useful.

“Your criteria are too superficial.” Hawks’ head shifts on Dabi’s shoulder, but he doesn’t lift it. “Powerful quirks, high-up connections, anger management issues? It’s too broad, they won’t hold together in the long run.” Now it’s Dabi’s turn to blow out a breath.

“For someone who got recruited by me, I feel like you’re not really in any position to judge,” Dabi says. He’s pretty sure his tone contained enough sarcasm to warrant a laugh, but Hawks’ hands just tighten on his arm.

As much as he’s enjoying Hawks’ company, he’s not sure it’s healthy for him to be on edge for this long. He shifts and picks up another paper, but he’s not really reading it.

“What do you normally do?” Dabi asks, trying to keep his voice soft. He was always terrified of his father’s yelling, to the point that even hearing him talk too loudly would kick his panic up a notch.

“What- what, for recruiting? I don’t really do that, I mean I guess I do for the agency, but not-”

“No, no,” Dabi interrupts Hawks’ rambling. He does his best not to smile at the reaction - Hawks is stressed, it’s not something he should be considering cute.

“When this happens,” Dabi gestures to his arm and Hawks’ hands clinging there, “what do you do?” Hawks exhales a breath and a soft ‘oh’.

“I don’t, um…” he trails off, and Dabi waits patiently, his silly hopes fluttering in his chest. He’s not usually one for hugs, but if Hawks is gearing up to ask for one, he might be willing to make an exception.

“I’m not usually around anyone I can trust.”

Now it’s Dabi’s turn to let out an equally soft ‘oh’. Hawks trusts him? Trusts him, of all people? A villain, someone who could set him on fire with a single touch? He trusts Dabi in spite of that?

“Okay…” Dabi fumbles for words in the silence, not daring to look over at where Hawks is still resting on his shoulder. He can’t tell if the air has suddenly become thicker, coating his tongue and throat and lungs and making it impossible to breathe, or if he’s just overreacting.

“Is it…normal for it to last this long?” Hawks trusts him, and he should trust that Hawks would say something if this was unusual, but it doesn’t stop his concerns from bubbling over and falling from his lips.

Hawks stiffens and clears his throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t think it would, I’d stop if I could, I just-”

“No, that’s not-” Dabi sighs. “Is…is there anything I can do to help?” He’s not trying to get Hawks to leave, but it’s clear this whole thing is only continuing to stress him out. Not that Dabi has any clue what got him to this state in the first place, but if he can help him calm down, maybe he can find out.

Hawks shifts beside him, and he sucks in a breath. Dabi expects he’ll release it along with a suggestion for how Dabi can help, but he just exhales. So Dabi waits a few more seconds, then a few more after that, until it’s most definitely been too long.

“Well?” Dabi tries again. Hawks sighs, and his hands tighten on Dabi’s arm. Dabi can’t imagine how on earth trying to calm him down would somehow stress him out more, but-

“Look, I know you’re a hardass…” Dabi freezes - is that what Hawks thinks of him? Hawks takes a deep breath, and his voice barely comes out above a whisper. “But can you play with my hair? It would…really help.”

Hawks goes still, totally and completely still, as if his own words have startled him, and Dabi stares hard at the paper in his hand. It’s all a blur of black and white, letters that don’t turn into words but mix around on the page and blend together into all shades of gray. Hawks wants…he wants Dabi to touch him?

Just his hair, just to help him calm down, Dabi reminds himself. This isn’t anything, it doesn’t mean anything. He tamps down on the voice in the back of his head that says Hawks trusts him. That doesn’t mean anything either.

With as much care as he can manage in spite of his sudden nerves, Dabi lifts his hand to the mess of hair on his shoulder. Hawks doesn’t move, doesn’t shout out a last minute ‘wait, stop!’, doesn’t pull himself away, and Dabi lets his fingers comb gently through the wild locks.

Hawks’ breath slows almost immediately, and Dabi wishes desperately that he could see Hawks’ face right now. Not that he needs much reassurance that this is truly helping Hawks - the grip on his arm loosens, and Hawks leans into his shoulder. A rustling sounds behind Dabi’s head, but it’s not til the expanse of a wing flops into view that he realizes Hawks must’ve let them droop to the bed.

Dabi holds his tongue, afraid to ruin whatever’s happening, afraid to set Hawks on edge again when he clearly needs to relax, but questions buzz inside his head and demand to make an appearance.

“That’s helping?” he asks first, and his lip curls up in an admittedly self-satisfied smile when Hawks nods into the crook of Dabi’s neck.

It’s soothing, both the repetitiveness of his hand in Hawks’ hair and the comforting warmth of Hawks leaning further and further into him, and the warmth spreads through his body and up to his brain, encasing it in a pleasant fog. He’s vaguely aware he’d wanted to ask something else, or maybe several somethings, but they’re lost behind a veil of comfort.

Before he can stop himself, Dabi leans back toward his pillow, gently pulling Hawks with him. His brain isn’t exactly capable of coherent thought right now, but he’d like to imagine it’d tell him what a great thing he’s doing, how this is definitely helping Hawks.

And he’s pretty sure he’d be right.

Hawks’s grip doesn’t release from his arm, but it’s loose enough now that he manages to comfortably curl himself against Dabi’s side, and his head lands on Dabi’s chest.

Dabi’s eyes drift shut of their own accord, and he doesn’t even bother with the excuse to himself that he’s just resting them. He’s warm and Hawks is here and everything else is drifting into the background so what else even matters?

“Thank you,” Hawks mumbles into his shirt, and Dabi’s chest feels like it’s exploding. But the pretty kind of explosion, like art. He feels like artwork, with Hawks pressed against him, like something far more than himself.

“Anything for you, little bird.”

———————————————

21 - [read on ao3]

“You asshole!” Denki screams, and the wooden chair creaks as he struggles against the bindings. Hitoshi dips his head.

“We need to know what you know,” Aizawa says again. Denki coughs out a bitter laugh.

“I don’t know anything, I’ve never known anything, and there’s nothing you could do to me that would matter anyway.” His words cut like ice - he’d said that once before, before all this had happened.

“I swear I don’t know anything, can you tutor me, Shinsou?” And god, Hitoshi had fallen for it. Fallen for everything Denki said.

Fallen for Denki.

“I thought we were saving Kirishima!” Denki shouts again, and Hitoshi is grateful for the soundproofed room they’re in. Aizawa has some weird resources, but he supposes they’re useful.

“We did,” Hitoshi argues.

“And then you brainwashed me.” He’s never heard Denki like this, his tone so acidic it rivals Mina’s quirk. Hitoshi’s head hurts as it tries to reconcile everything - Denki’s betrayal with his prior kindness, Hitoshi’s own promises to never do something like that to a friend with the question of whether Denki ever was a friend.

Friends don’t betray friends.

“We need information,” Aizawa butts in, straightforward as ever. “There are lives on the line.”

“There are always lives on the line, why does it suddenly matter so damn much?” Hitoshi turns away - the Denki he knows would care, at least a little. He wanted to be a hero, what the hell happened?

“Man, I swear I have to get way better with my quirk or I’ll never be a real hero!” Hitoshi had laughed at that, at the idea that Denki would be anything other than exactly who he wanted to be. Hitoshi always found himself laughing around Denki.

“Why- why does it matter?” Aizawa’s clearly losing his patience. Hitoshi inhales a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm. But how the hell is he supposed to be calm when his best friend turned on him? On the entire school?

How was he so easily fooled?

“Shinsou, please, keep an eye on him,” Aizawa grumbles, brushing past Hitoshi and out the door. “I need a minute.”

Hitoshi doesn’t want to turn around. He doesn’t want to see those bright yellow eyes turned hard and brutal against him. He would rather remember the way his mouth opened a little too wide when he laughed, the way he hung around Hitoshi even when he didn’t think he wanted the company, the way he could quote Shakespeare word for word then turn around and ask Hitoshi if birds could see the same colors as people.

“You’re no better than I am,” Denki hisses at Hitoshi’s back, and the words creep up Hitoshi’s spine and worm their way into his ears. He wishes he could pull them out, throw them to the ground and squish them under his feet.

“You betrayed me, and I betrayed you, so we’re even now,” Hitoshi says to the wall. Denki coughs out a laugh.

“Perfect, you can let me out of here, then.”

“Not until you tell us who you’re working for, who your contacts are.” Maybe Hitoshi’s been spending too much time with Aizawa, but his mentor is right, there are lives at stake, and Denki might have the intel that could help save them.

“I don’t know,” Denki says again, “what the hell do I have to say to get you to believe me?”

“I did believe you,” Hitoshi says, though he wishes he hadn’t. His tongue refuses to stop now that it’s started, though, and all the damn emotions he’s been holding back come spilling from his lips.

“I believed you wanted to be a hero, I believed you wanted to help. I believed you were my friend.” He does turn around now, and he almost regrets it - Denki’s staring back, eyes wide and lips parted like he might be about to argue that point. Hitoshi wishes he would, wishes he would say something and make Hitoshi believe it.

But nothing comes out, only an aching silence that makes Hitoshi want to scream, but he doesn’t. He won’t lose himself in front of Denki, not when he’s taken everything else. No, Hitoshi can hold onto his anger. That’d been a gift from Denki, after all.

“I believed you loved classic literature and didn’t understand geometry and liked pranking the other students and wanted to control your quirk and I believed you cared.” Hitoshi’s out of breath now, but the lack of oxygen only fuels him. He lifts his voice modulator.

“I like you, Shinsou,” he says in Denki’s voice, and Denki’s eyes drop to the ground. Hitoshi lowers the modulator. “I believed it when you said that, too. And look where that got me.” His hand clenches in a fist at his side and tears prick at the back of his eyes.

“I could kill you right now,” Denki says, his voice so low that Hitoshi almost doesn’t hear him. As soon as he does, though, he wishes he hadn’t. “Electrocute you and Aizawa and find a way to get free once you’re dead.”

“Do it, then. What’s stopping you?” Hitoshi grits his teeth to keep his lip from trembling. Denki would kill them. Kill him.

“I don’t…want to.” He sounds so resigned, and Hitoshi blows out a shaky breath.

“That’s reassuring,” he says, hoping the dark humor will help dispel some of the ache in his chest. It doesn’t, but Denki laughs, a real laugh, and Hitoshi’s breath comes in a little easier this time.

Maybe, somewhere in the depths of his imagination, he can pretend Denki’s going to break down and tell them it was all a ruse, just a clever manipulation and he’s really one of the good guys, he really is a hero. And maybe there’s absolutely no reason Hitoshi could even begin to justify that hope inside his head, but it refuses to leave him alone.

“This was never…it was never about UA, or class 1A or Aizawa or any of them,” Denki says, and Hitoshi looks up to find him staring at his shoes. “It wasn’t even about you, not at first.” Hitoshi stops himself from interrupting - information, that’s what they need. That’s what he did this for, to save people. He can still be a hero, even if he couldn’t save-

No, he won’t give up on Denki yet. He can’t, it would break something inside him to do that.

“Why, then? Why all of this?” He waves a hand in Denki’s direction. Were we not enough to change you? Was I not enough? He can’t ask that, though. He can’t even begin to consider hearing Denki say that he wasn’t.

“I had to keep myself safe, keep my family safe,” Denki says to the floor. The chair creaks as he leans forward, his hair falling to block his face. “I thought…I thought I wouldn’t care.”

Hitoshi stills at the words. Did he care, then?

“I thought…it’d be easy to do whatever was asked of me - and no, I don’t know who it was, the whole thing was anonymous.” Denki’s staring hard at him now, but Hitoshi can’t come up with any words. “I didn’t think-” he pauses, then his gaze softens. “I wasn’t there to make friends.”

Hitoshi blows out a breath - the same thing he’d said to Denki from day one.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” He means it as a joke, almost. Almost, except for the gaping hole left in his chest after Denki’s betrayal. Almost, except for the memory of raucous laughter turning soft as Denki leaned closer to Hitoshi. Almost, except that Hitoshi had been willing to hand his heart over. Almost, except Denki had run away and left it broken.

“I thought I could protect you too,” Denki says, and he sounds almost as shattered as Hitoshi feels. “They said they’d keep you safe, and I believed them.” Hitoshi squeezes his eyes shut, desperately fighting back the wave of tears that threaten to overwhelm him.

It takes several moments too long, but he manages to shove them back down, and he takes a deep breath as he opens his eyes. Denki’s still staring at his feet, and Hitoshi wants nothing more than to lift his chin, to tell him things will turn out okay in the end. That he doesn’t need to worry, Hitoshi is a hero and he’ll keep Denki safe now.

But it’s Denki’s fault they’re in this mess. A real hero would see that, wouldn’t they?

“You put the entire world at risk to keep me safe?” He hopes his tone comes off angry - hell, he should’ve just switched on his modulator and flipped to Bakugou’s voice. That’d have done better than letting his own words betray how hurt he is right now.

Denki just blows out a breath of bitter laughter.

“I know this might sound selfish,” he shakes his head and lifts it just enough to catch Hitoshi’s eye, “unheroic, even, but I don’t care about the world.” Hitoshi clenches his jaw. “I only care about you, Hitoshi, I just wanted to keep you safe.” He shakes his head, leaning back in the chair. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

Hitoshi does his best to ignore everything Denki’s saying, everything that isn’t useful. Emotions aren’t useful, not right now.

“What’s coming, then? What do we need to protect ourselves from?” He takes a few steps closer, hoping it comes across as intimidating.

“I don’t know, they won’t tell me, but it’s big, Hitoshi…” He exhales a slow breath, and Hitoshi watches the line of his throat as he swallows. “I don’t know if we’ll make it.”

Hitoshi startles at the tears pooling in Denki’s eyes - he’s never been one to cry, as far as Hitoshi’s ever known, but that alone is enough to set his heart racing. Something big, something Denki’s not sure they’ll survive…

“We just gotta stick together and we’ll be fine!” Hitoshi says into his modulator, and it comes out as Denki’s voice - sure, they had just been training, it was just practice, there wasn’t a real threat like there is now, but those words had helped him then and maybe they can help Denki now.

Maybe he can still figure this out, maybe he can still bring Denki back to the right side. Maybe it’s not that Denki doesn’t care, but that he cared far too much. And maybe Hitoshi cares far too much, too.

#bnha #dabihawks #shinkami #dabi #hawks #shinsou #kaminari #prompterinos #i-have-too-many-husbandos #ask #kt

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joonsrack · 5 years ago

Text

+Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+Genre: One shot, college au, fluff, kind of established relationship but not.

+10-31, nonhyeon dong series: Part I | Part II | Part III

+Word count: 8.3k

+Summary:

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?" Seokjin freezes for a half a second, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?" He feels the room fall silent around him. "What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands. "What?" He tries again. "We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

+Warnings: SFW, Stalker (not between the same pairing), bad dad jokes & sarcasm.

A/N: Apology to VIXX fans, i didn’t know who they were back then and just picked a random celebrity name. Lee Jaehwan just happened to be there, i don’t hate him or anything.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

whrr thr f ar u

Kim Seokjin 21h 43:

I forgot to feed the cat.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

ur almoat ahour lte .

ANd we dnt hava catr .

Kim Seokjin 21h47:

You’re the person with the highest IQ I know, yet it takes a PhD to make sense of your text, honestly.

Kim Namjoon 21h 53:

(...)

You've been shining by your absence for almost a hour now , your club members have been throwing me weird looks for the most part of it because they do not know my business here .

Also , ywe do not own a cat.

Kim Seokjin 21h 54:

No need to get your underpants in a twist, Shakespeare. Just make it readable .

Kim Namjoon 21h 54:

Y ou're late . Your club members are w e i r d.

Kim Seokjin 21h 55:

Tell me something i don't know.

Kim Namjoon 21h 59:

It would take 10,000 helium balloons to make your ass fly over here.

Hurry . the fuck. up .

Kim Seokjin 22h 03:

Roger that .

Hey you want to hear a joke about helium ?

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

Hyung.

No.

Kim Seokjin 22h 04:

Almost.

The correct answer is Na, though .

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

hyuNG .

******

‘Best friends’ is what most people would use. Sometimes, there's the odd ball that calls them soulmates.

Honestly, Seokjin thinks neither apply.

The rest of their misfit roommates calls them oemma and appa. They also talk about their wedding as if it already happened. As a joke, of course.

Because they're not married.

He thinks to himself, as Namjoon spends most of the night with his arm wrapped around his waist. For his defense, they're acting like a couple to discourage a creep from Seokjin's club that's been becoming increasingly annoying in the last few weeks; Seokjin is never having drunk sex with kind-of-friends again, however horny he might get. Nothing good ever comes out of it, and now he's gotten himself the worst kind of STD: a stalker.

It only took a passing mention during their weekly TV Thursday night for their roommates to plan out a way to get Seokjin out of his awkward situation.

(It got past awkward territory when he asked you for the fifth time if you were sure you didn't want to go on a date with him Friday night, Yoongi said.

He might have been right.)

The solution they came up with then is to pretend Seokjin’s eternal Uni celibacy is a thing of the past, Namjoon being the logical choice as a fake boyfriend since the whole University already think they are dating.

Namjoon is also the logical choice since their noisy friends seem hellbent on having them married with five kids ever since Jungkook and Taehyung put their big boys pants on (or off) and confessed to each other. Now it's like it's their four friends goal to get Namjoon and Seokjin together next (Yoongi probably doesn't give a shit about anything else other than his music and Jimin's ass, so Seokjin isn't counting him in).

So yeah, Seokjin wouldn't exactly use the term best friend or soulmates to describe his relationship with the younger man. More something in the line of puzzle pieces; they're different yet they fit.

It's chance that brought them together (or more commonly named: being bad dancers). The only thing they had in common back then had been overbearing mothers; one who wanted her son to gain control over his limbs and stop breaking everything, and the other having high expectations for her son's handsome face. Being the worst of their hip hop dance class, they bonded over always being put in the back during choreography.

They don't take dance classes anymore, but 10 years down the line and Seokjin couldn't see his life without Kim Namjoon's face in it.

Living together for university had been only natural, and along came the five other weirdos.

They drew the line at sharing the same room to have a break of each other's face from time to time. But if it comes down to it, Namjoon is probably the only person, other than his parents, who knows almost everything about him.

(More than his parents, actually.)

So, kissing him to make their act all the more believable doesn't feel as weird as he thinks it should.

Awkward, maybe, but not weird. He spent the best of the last few years trying (and failing) to avoid looking at Namjoon's pout, so it's safe to say he's already familiarized with it; well before Namjoon chuckles awkwardly and goes in for a peck under the gleeful look of his club members. He's pretty sure bet had been going on about them.

Of course, the only one who doesn't think so is Lee Jaehwan, stalker extraordinary.

No, he seems extremely surprised by this turn of event, and has the audacity to look affronted. He doesn't budge though, just press his lips together and raises an eyebrow, as if to say: you're not fooling anyone.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy, Seokjin thinks, irritated.

"Come on boys, we're all adults here, we're over the peck-on-cheek stage" someone throws from the back. Once Seokjin finds out who, he's cancelled.

It's too late though, and their club members are calling obnoxiously for an encore. The rest of the patrons at the bar are looking at them like the bunch of annoying kids they are, bringing a faint blush of embarrassment to his cheeks. Seokjin smiles nervously, his excuse all set and ready to go; but it gets lost in Namjoon's mouth.

There's a hand on his neck keeping him in place, but it's not strong enough that he couldn't push it away, if he wanted. Namjoon is just that considerate.

It takes him a moment to remember he can (and should) breath through his nose.

He has a split second of clarity to thanks god Taehyung and Jungkook couldn't make it to their club hangout tonight, before he wraps his arms around Namjoon's neck and sells his soul to the devil. He's already in love with the dude, what is it going to change to get a taste of him?

Once he relaxes into the kiss, it becomes all the more natural. Puzzle pieces, Seokjin's mind provides again. His mind has always been too noisy though, so he shuts it off. Namjoon kisses him like it's a challenge, and Seokjin knows he already lost. He lost well before their lips ever connected; he doesn't feel like a loser, though, once he realizes that he’s not the only one breathing hard.

Seconds becomes minute and his club members chants become catcalls, and when he opens his eyes again, disoriented but holding on to Namjoon's frame, he can see from the corner of his eyes Lee Jaehwan storming out of the bar.

"Mission accomplished" Namjoon whispers to him once Creepy McPants is out of sight.

He lets out a relieved sigh and sags a little in Namjoon's embrace. His dongsaeng passes a reassuring hand down his back, knowing him too well. Anybody else and Seokjin would be putting on an indifferent front, but it's Kim Namjoon standing before him.

"Since we're here, might as well drink something? I think I need to relax a little." He says and tries to meet Namjoon’s eyes but the younger man seems to be looking at everything but him.

"Sure" Namjoon shrugs, "I'll go get us something, just to escape from their crazed looks for a few."

"You snatched the prettiest one around, of course they'll be noisy about it, it's the drama club." Seokjin says, playing up the arrogant attitude to try and get rid of the awkwardness surrounding them.

"You're so modest"

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon looks pensive for a second, and Seokjin can only regret his comeback before his dongsaeng speaks again.

"We just shared 80 million bacteria" He answers, their eyes finally meeting.

Seokjin signs heavily, looking unimpressed with his friend. Of course, he's going to act as if they just didn't share some life changing kiss that's going to make it 300% harder for Seokjin to get over his infatuation.

That thing he did with his tongue?

He's ruined.

"You're not the only that can be a smart ass, Hyung." Namjoon shrugs again, then goes toward the general direction of the bar, probably to get him his favorite drink.

Because there's no reason why Namjoon wouldn't know Seokjin's favorite drink, is there?

******

"So how did your date go, hyung?" Jimin asks from where he's perched over the kitchen counter, licking a spatula full of what looks like thick white cream.

Yoongi standing frozen over the remains of a broken cup makes a lot more sense now.

Hoseok is whipping up cake batters for who knows what reason, and Jungkook and Taehyung are doing their weird foreplay rituals that includes playing violent video games and telling each other to eat shit.

Youngsters these days have weird ways to set the mood.

"Namjin 1; Jaehwan 0" He answers with no inflection. He just can't wait to be alone in his room to analyze every tiny detail of his new-found knowledge; Kim Namjoon aka Professional Mouth Licker.

"He looked pretty pissed though, when he stormed out" Namjoon says with a worried crease forming between his brows "You should probably be careful for the next few weeks... Try to avoid being alone with him".

"It's not like I have much control over that, we're in the same club, we're in the same play. He might have a pretty minor role put the mailman is a key character"

"Don't worry Hyung," Taehyung says from where his head is now pillowed on Jungkook's thighs. They've stopped playing to listen in, apparently. "We'll keep an eye on him. With Jungkook's muscles and my..." He looks down at his own body, frowning. "I won't be much help but Jungkook's muscles will do, I guess."

"But you do have muscles, hyungie" Jungkook says, trying to subtly shove a hand under Taehyung's T-shirt. 'Trying' being the key word here.

"Oh for fuck sake" Jimin says, fake gagging. "We should never have helped them get their shit together. I'll regret it eternally."

"Yah, when have you ever helped them," Yoongi squints. "You only wanted first row to the drama."

Jimin doesn't even bother looking affronted, sauntering off the counter with a smirk.

"You gotta admit Hyung, the tea was pretty good."

Taehyung and Jungkook get-together-story kind of became this year's running gag, generating hours of teasing and laughing from the rest of their hyungs. But they took their revenge by becoming gross. Grosser than when they were simply crushing on each other, as if that was possible.

Which is why Seokjin knows it's Taehyung's phone that starts making a racket as he pours himself and Namjoon a glass of water, since his different notifications sounds are recordings of Jungkook's various weird laughs.

(Once, Taehyung "forgot" his phone in his room, and he spent the whole night waking up to the Maknae's evil laughter. Seokjin still believe the phone had been purposely hidden there. Revenge had been written all over Taehyung's face when he came to collect his phone the next morning.)

But now he's so used to it that he barely reacts, until a loud gasp from behind startles him.

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?"

Seokjin freezes, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?"

He feels the room fall silent around him.

"What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands.

"What?" He tries again.

"We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

It's a little blurry, but you can clearly see Namjoon's tongue shoved down his throat.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, brain going a mile a minute to come up with a good excuse.

He can feel five hungry stares looking their way, and he's coming up blank; all he can focus on is the thought of his bed calling on to him.

He does the most sensible thing; grabs Namjoon's hand before anyone can react and runs for it.

"I'm sorry hyung, I wanted to help you out, but now we will never live this down." Namjoon whines from between his hands covering his red face, once they are safely hidden away in Seokjin and Yoongi's room.

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon goes to open his mouth despite his embarrassment, but this time Seokjin is faster.

"Don't.”

He can hear giggle from the other side of the door that he gratefully locked, thanking god for Min Yoongi and his appreciation of social interactions.

"You can't hide forever hyungie~" Jimin muffled voice calls out sweetly.

"Yes we can~" He answers, matching in sweetness.

"No you can't, not in my room."

"Shut up Yoongiyah, you go sleep in Namjoon's bed for the night." he says, since being the oldest has advantages. "Or better yet, I'm sure Jimin has some space to spare for your skinny ass." he adds as an afterthought.

There's a few choice words thrown his way, until he can hear Hoseok tell Yoongi to shut the fuck up and sacrifice his room to blossoming love.

A disgruntled sigh is all he needs to hear to know they won't be disturbed for the reminder of the night.

*****

The signs that escape his mouth is enough to shake mountains, but not Min Yoongi.

No, Yoongi ignores his arrival, still a little bit mad for having been locked out of his room couple days ago. Jimin is there as well, lazing on his hyung's bed with a pair of earbuds cutting him off from the world. Seokjin's catches a few seconds of what seems to be some studio dance practice.

He sighs again, this time his whole body melting into his bed.

"What." Yoongi's snaps. Because no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be able to hide the fact that he cares.

"Lee Jaehwan has yet to give up, it seems."

It doesn't take half a second before Namjoon's head pops into the room.

"I knew he'd be hard to shake off" he muses out loud, cocking a hip against the door frame

"If you two keep acting like a couple he'll get over it some days" Yoongi says, not stopping the rotation of his chair. It's making Seokjin dizzy.

"What acting?" Jimin adds from his spot, one of his earbud now dangling.

Ignoring his comment, Namjoon's takes place on the space left on the bed and puts a reassuring hand on the small of his back.

"My point" Jimin mutters again, but a pillow is thrown into his face.

"What happened?", Namjoon asks, and Seokjin groans once again.

"Nothing too dramatic... he asked me if I was serious about you and he got all mad when I said yes. Then he was just there, in the background. I could feel his wrath, literally. He made everyone tiptoe around him."

"He acted like a dickwad" Jungkook adds from the door frame, balancing Taehyung on his back. "The biggest dickwad around"

"Not to me" Taehyung says, and the room focus on him.

"He acted overly sweet and asked If I knew of anyone planning to move out of the apartment. And how much the rent was."

A grim silence fills the room, even Yoongi stops spinning.

"For fuck sake" Seokjin whines.

"Of course, I told him no one was leaving and he couldn't afford the rent. Then he acted like the biggest dickwad towards me as well."

"Well this Lee Jaehwan problem will not go away as easily as we thought" Jimin says, all business like.

Namjoon's chin is starting to protrude; he's getting serious.

The front doors screeches, and Hoseok erupts from the hallway a few seconds later, drenched in sweat, finding the six of them crammed into the medium sized room with a mix of worried and irritated expressions on.

"What'd I miss" he says, eyebrows joining his hairline, trying to squeeze past the two men combo blocking the door. "Why' we all crammed in here when the living room is perfectly sized to accommodate all of us?" He asks, but he joins Jimin on the bed anyways, to Yoongi's displeasure. They both ignores his protest as they get into a more comfortable position.

"The disrespect- I swear to god if my bed smells like sweat... How can you touch him right now Jiminie?"

"We're both dancers, we're used to it." Their matching indifferent look are enough to shut Yoongi up.

"What should we do next." Namjoon's puts the conversation back on track.

"Seokjin-hyung could act mean to him?" Jungkook proposes.

"Have you seen him? He doesn't know how to be mean. He's an eomma down to his soul"

"I can be mean," he defends himself against Jimin's jab, "I could tell him his... body proportions are bad?"

A groan spreads through the room. Even Hoseok who doesn't even know what they're talking about. He must be getting the idea, though.

"Tell him his acting sucks" Taehyung proposes. "Because it does. Then you're not being mean, you're telling the truth and saving him from a future of job rejections. It's a win-win.”

"We're not trying to destroy his self-esteem, just trying to make him see that Seokjin-hyung is not the one for him."

"Then tell him he doesn't fit your standards"

"I tried, but he laughed it off." He says, irritation permeating his words.

"It's like nobody here knows our university has campus security" Jimin sighs.

"Luckily for us or our precious Jungkookie would be in jail~" Hoseok singsongs.

The maknaes couple blush and escapes the room, Taehyung still perched on his boyfriend's back.

"They will never live this down" Yoongi's grins, then hits a couple of keys on his keyboards and jumps to his feet. "Alright, I'm gone"

"Hi gone, I'm Seokjin", he answers as an automatism, because he knows his classics. Dad jokes are life.

Yoongi stops in his track as a resounding groan crosses the room again, stares at him with the blankest look of disappointment possible, then leaves without saying anything else.

The sound of the door closing seems to startle Hoseok and Jimin into action as well.

"Didn't you say the studio was free today? I need you to look at a new movement I want to fit in for the next showcase."

"Sure, everything for my cute dongsaengie" Hoseok coos. Coos.

In a flurry of movement only flexible people can afford, they both leave the room with a goodbye thrown behind.

And they were two.

"Either my bad joke scared them away, or none of my dongsaengs care that I might be kidnapped and put into a cage only to be fed dry ass chicken by a creep that's counting on Stockholm syndrome to make me fall for him."

Namjoon scoffs but frowns again.

"You want to give a shot to extra PDA? I could come and fetch you after your club meetings? We could try walking together in the morning?"

“It’s not like we don’t already do that most of the time.” Seokjin sighs to the sudden quietness of the room. “But sure, ’cause I'm getting too old to put my back through the trauma of being restrained in a cage."

He pats the empty spot next to him and Namjoon takes the cue and lays down.

They wake up hours later disoriented and limbs tangled to the flash of a camera.

These damn youngsters, he swears silently.

*****

The next day, everybody seems to have a new lock screen.

Everybody but Yoongi of course, but Seokjin doesn't take it personally; Min Holly has been his phone screen ever since he had to leave his puppy with his parents while he was off to University.

And by the way he smirks at Seokjin first thing in the morning, he at least downloaded the picture into his phone.

It's a cute picture he has to admit, with him and Namjoon so entangled it's hard to tell which limbs belongs to who. He wishes he could find a way to subtly ask someone to send it to him. But that would be weird, right?

Right.

His paper on the influence of dramatics art on the development of kids is staring blankly back at him. He's supposed to hand it back in a few days but he can't bring himself to stay focused for two seconds, he's got too many things on his mind; like Namjoon's tongue down his throat or the borderline stalker walking towards him.

"Hey, Seokjinie!"

Lee Jaehwan is waving, and Seokjin debates acting like he didn't see or hear him, but being in the school library kind of makes it hard to play that card. Also the fact that they shared a nice and awkward eye contact.

"Jaehwan, hey" he answers, hoping his irritation isn't showing too much.

"You're working on the paper for Park Seonseangnim's class?"

"Yeah... Or I'm trying to. I'm having a hard time focusing here." Seokjin says with a small bite, hoping for the man to take the cue. Which he doesn't.

"Oh well, you want to take a coffee break? I'll buy.” he says, with a big smile full of teeth. Like a wolf in disguise. That wants to kidnap him.

And then put him in a cage and feed him dry chicken.

Seokjin closes the lid of his laptop just on the side of too hard. Here he was hoping to fit in a couple of lines, but that won't be possible now.

"Actually, I have to go, I'm meeting up with Namjoonie in a few."

"Right. Kim Namjoon. Your Boyfriend." He says with something close to disdain in his voice, the capital "B" clearly voluntary.

Seokjin starts gathering his things as Jaehwan carries on.

"You know it's funny because when I think about it just a few weeks ago you told you didn't want to date before finishing your degree."

He's still smiling and it's so fake, Seokjin can see right through. He can see the irritation and self-righteousness, and it's starting to get on his nerves.

"You're right, I remember thinking that. But I also remember being an adult who can take his own goddamn decision without anyone butting in, thank you very much."

He roughly shoves his books in his bag, struggling when the zipper gets stuck. Jaehwan takes the opportunity to grab him by the wrist and halt his movement, and it takes Seokjin everything to contains his rage at having this guy trying to invade his life.

"Wait, I didn't mean to make you mad. I'm just trying to figure out why you rejected me. You haven't even left me a chance. After that night you just acted as if nothing happened..."

"Honestly, I've told you in so many different ways that you don't interest me, if you still don't get it by now, then you're just plain stupid. I like them smart, so all the more reasons for me not to date you.” he hisses.

With that off his mind, he yanks his arm free and walks away. Some students stare as he storms out, but he's too irritated to feel bad for his loudness.

There's strange sense of satisfaction that comes with not acting nice. Is this how it feels to be mean?

******

That night when he gets home he starts whipping up a meal. It happens when he's stressed. Frying rice somehow helps him get his mind off things.

There's only three pair of shoes thrown hazardously by the door, but he always makes enough to have leftovers, so he cooks something for seven. By the time it's almost ready, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin come sniffing out of their room, drawn out by the smell of his kimchi fried rice.

Namjoon takes one look at him and at the meal he's cooking.

"Is something wrong, Hyung?"

Seokjin answers with a noncommittal sound and the subject is dropped, for now. Jimin takes the hint though and pops a chilled soju bottle and a couple of beer out of the refrigerator.

"Someak! Someak!" Taehyung exclaims, and gets the shot glass and beer glass from the cupboard.

They eat in relative quietness, talking in low voice of the highlights of their days and enjoying a few drinks. By 8pm, Jimin's and Taehyung's cheeks are reddish, and they laugh much too easily. Namjoon is telling them a story in a slower and deeper drawl than usual, and Seokjin is smiling at nothing. Or maybe he's smiling at Namjoon stupid handsome face, and low voice, and adorable dimples. Whatever.

Jimin and Taehyung offer themselves for the dishes, Namjoon having been banned from the task since the first few months of their cohabitation.

"You wanna watch something on my computer?" He offers Seokjin instead.

"What are my options?"

Namjoon thinks for a second, booting up his laptop.

"Are you feeling more something like Train to Busan or 100 days with Mr. Arrogant?"

"As much as I enjoy my fair share of teen classic, seeing zombies eating their way through humanity seems pretty ideal for my state of mind right now."

"Train to Busan it is." He says, and search through his files until he lets out a triumphant sound, the movie studio animation playing a few seconds later.

They settle more comfortably on Namjoon's bed, still a little buzzed from their drinks. The laptop is safely positioned on a nightstand, strategically moved to be the perfect TV stand.

He makes it through the first half relatively alert, but the screams of terror are lulling him to sleep, and he burrow a little deeper under the blanket. Namjoon throws a casual arm over him, like it's the most natural thing for them to cuddle. It probably is.

He doesn't know how he ends up the little spoon, but he's not going to complain; Namjoon's breath is ghosting over his neck, making goosebumps breaks out all over his skin.

It should probably make the whole experience uncomfortable, but it doesn't, truth to be told. This happened countless times over the last ten years, and it will probably happens again. They both know each other’s body by now, and he does know why he ended up the little spoon. He always is, probably because he ends up complaining whenever it's the other way around.

His lanky arms are just not made for Namjoon's head.

There's a finger rubbing circles into his skin, probably more unconsciously than anything else. The shape they're drawing is getting less consistent as Namjoon's breath evens out. Soon enough, Seokjin's eyes are losing the battle against the drowsiness weighting over them. There's a weird noise somewhere in the house, but he pays it no mind as his breath evens out as well.

With Jimin and Taehyung being the only one home, it's nothing new. But there's a weird feeling to it all. Nevertheless, he knows if it's anything major they'll come knocking.

It ends up being kind of major, but there's no knocking, and it's not who he thought it would be.

God, he wishes they had chosen his goddamn room to watch the movie, then he could have locked the door and wouldn't need to open his eyes to Lee Jaehwan's face.

"What the fuck." Is all he manages to say.

There's Jimin and Taehyung struggling to hold him back with pink latex gloves on, but they clearly kept on drinking so they don't seem to be the most efficient defence line.

Namjoon makes a confused noise when Seokjin's warmth disappears, following him as he sits up on the bed.

He looks confused by Jaehwan's presence, until he sees the door of their apartment gapping open down the hallway and his maknaes’s distraught states.

And then, he doesn't look confused anymore.

The only time Seokjin saw Namjoon looking like that was years ago, when one of Seokjin's ex cheated on him, gave him a STD, then called him on the phone to break up with him. That had been a funny night. That evening, Namjoon silently went out and came back hours later hiding his hands in his pockets. Seokjin never asked.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Calm and composed is, and always will be, the scariest kind of Kim Namjoon. He gets to his feet in an intimidating motion, ready to block off any attempt to get to his Hyung.

"Seokjinah, I need to talk to you"

"He's got nothing to say to you. Get out."

"I'm not talking to you." He tries to side step Namjoon but he's having none of it. He grabs him by the arm, hard enough to earn him a whine, and pulls him out of the room into the hallway and out the door of their apartment. He’s got his two hands holding on roughly to Jaehwan’s shirt collar, probably planning on slamming him into a wall, but before they can create a bigger disturbance, Seokjin stops him with a gentle hand.

"Go back inside." He tells Namjoon, his eyes on Lee Jaehwan

"Hyung..." He tries to argue, not letting go.

"I got this."

It's probably the look of steel on Seokjin's face that convince Namjoon to let him handle the situation, and after throwing a last look between the two, he reluctantly lets go and withdraws inside.

He's probably spying through the peephole, though.

"Let's walk." Seokjin, throws over his shoulder, walking towards the exit without looking if Jaehwan is following. The last thing he wants is noise complaints from his neighbour. He doesn't even know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was pushing 10, so it's probably getting late.

They walk down the staircase and out of the building in total silence, the only thing confirming the other man following being the sound of his steps close behind.

Once they step into the air outside, Seokjin takes the direction of the nearest subway station.

Jaehwan hurries his steps to be level with him.

"I know it's rude to barge in like that but I really needed to talk to you... and your roommates refused to go and get you."

"Reasonable, as they knew I was busy.”

"I didn't have a choice, you've haven't responded to any of my text. I couldn't find you after you left the library."

"Probably because I didn't want to talk to you. But we're here, so let's talk." He stops and turns around." I don't know how to make you understand that I don't have any interest in you, any intention to date you-"

Jaehwan tries to interrupt but Seokjin raises his hand and stops him.

"I'm at the point where I don't even want to try and stay friend with you. You're making me hate you."

"But the night we spent together-" he says, grabbing his wrist, again.

"Meant nothing. We slept together. That's it. I was drunk, you were drunk. We had a one off and honestly, I don't even remember half of it. From what I do remember though, you weren't really memorable. We're just not a good match."

"I was drunk, if we tried again-"

Seokjin snaps his wrist away and takes a step back.

"There is not going to be an 'again'. There was never going to be one since there's nothing between us."

"Seokjin..."

"You're making yourself look pathetic, and you're making my life hard. Just please, stop it. Don't talk to me outside of club duty."

"Why, because your boyfriend won't like it?" Jaehwan, says, taking a step forward to stay close, invading his personal space. Again.

"No, because I don't want to talk to you, that's all. Namjoon has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, come on Seokjinie, I know you're not dating him for real. You’re just trying to make me jealous.” Jaehwan says with a smile, as if he's gotten the upper hand. Seokjin hesitates a second but decides it's not even worth to try and defend the lie they crafted to discourage Jaehwan’s advances. Clearly, it failed.

“No, I told everyone we were dating so you would give up, but your head is so far up your ass that it didn't matter to you."

"Yah Kim Seokjin," he says, and take a couple of steps again, until he's standing in Seokjin's face. "I've let a lot of insults slip by because I know you're just playing hard to get, but don't cross the line. You keep calling me stupid and stuff, and it's not cute anymore. Let's just stop this game, ok? We don't have to tell anyone if you're scared for your image, we can just date in secret."

Seokjin is shocked frozen by the thickness of Jaehwan's skull. He's so deluded, and he's starting to regret not letting Namjoon handle him. No, he had to go and get them alone, at night, with no one around.

"I'm not playing hard to get. I don't like you. Leave me alone. How many times do I have to say-"

Lee Jaehwan grabs both of his shoulders and goes in for a kiss, shocking Seokjin who braces himself for the impact. He struggles to push the man away, but he's never been the muscular type, giving Jaehwan an advantage that he takes to keep a tight hold on him.

He can feel fingers digging uncomfortably into the meat of his shoulder, making it hard to avoid Jaehwan's attempt to plant one on him.

Seokjin is considering a nice and well timed headbutt, desperate times and all that, but it proves itself unnecessary as two muscled arms pull the man off him and make quick work of throwing him to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Never in his life Seokjin has been this happy to see Jeon Jungkook, modern day hero.

He's standing tall in all of his post workout glory, a gym bag hanging from his shoulder and his tank top showing off his impressive biceps.

Once Jaehwan sees who it is, he exclaims in anger, opening his mouth probably to shout about respects and social conventions.

Before anything makes out of his throat though, Jungkook interrupts him.

"Sunbae," He says, voice honey-sweet. He carefully places a foot on Jaehwan's hands, putting a light pressure. "I don't think you're showing a good example right now, with the bad touch and the lack of consent" Seokjin bites his tongue, knowing now is not the right time to bring up Jungkook's romantic history. "You should go home and reflect on that for the night." He says, and then add just a little bit more pressure on the hand squished between his shoe and the harsh cement of the side walk. "And If you ever touch Seokjin-Hyung again, I will break every single joint in both of your hands. Understood?"

His smile doesn't match his words nor his action, succeeding in creeping even Seokjin out.

He will never fight Jungkook for the last chapseolttoek ever again.

Jaehwan jumps to his feet, looking like he wants to run for his life, but he still takes the time to pull his clothes back in place, patting himself down while huffing out in displeasure.

"That's no way to talk to your sunbae. You better learn some respect Jeon Jungkook." he tries and fails to look intimidating.

Jungkook only cocks an unimpressed eyebrow, taking a step and prompting Jaehwan into backtracking. He walks away half running, throwing a worried look over his shoulder every few meters until he's a dot in the distance.

They stand in place in silence, looking at where Jaehwan left, until Seokjin snaps out of his shocked state and seeks the closest bench to sits himself on, head falling into his hands with a humourless laugh.

Jungkook takes the hints and sits by his side, putting a reassuring hand on his neck and gently massaging the tension there.

They stay like that a few minutes until his phone starts ringing, the line It’s gon’ get you in trouble resonating into the night and pulling him out of his silence.

Kim Namjoon is shining back at him with a picture of his friend holding up a small crab, excitement noticeable by his facial expression. It usually brings a smile to his face, but this time he signs before answering.

"Hyung, is everything ok? You've been gone for a while" He says the second Seokjin hits answers.

"Yeah I'm good, he's gone,” he says trying to sound normal.” but I walked into Jungkook so I forgot to text you back..."

"You sound weird, did anything happen?"

He takes a look at Jungkook, and the maknae stares back, probably having heard Namjoon's question in the quietness of the night.

"No, I'm just tired. But I think it's finally over, he got it. He seemed pretty... Deterred" he finishes, thinking about Jaehwan's scared face as he ran away.

Namjoon hesitates on the phone, probably not believing him one bit. He can hear Taehyung and Jimin anxiously asking for news, but Namjoon ignores them, probably overanalysing the way he sounds from the few words they exchanged and dressing hypothesis on why he sounds like somebody told him his jokes suck.

"Just... get home safely hyung" He ends up saying.

"Don't worry about me, I've got Mr.Muscle here guarding my ass." he says throwing a smile Jungkook's way.

After he hangs up and he and Jungkook are on their way, he takes a moment to put a hand on his Maknae's shoulder.

"I would appreciate if you could keep what happened tonight to yourself. I don’t know how Namjoon might react, but I don’t want him getting into trouble with the school."

Jungkook thinks for a second but seems to agree.

"He's going to be really angry if he finds out we kept it from him, though."

"I'll deal with him if it comes to it, alright?"

Jungkook raise an eyebrow, but Seokjin knows he can trust him.

"Aigoo~! our cute maknae is now a man capable of saving a damsel in distress" he says, changing the subject, pinching Jungkook's cheek.

"You're aware that you're describing yourself as a damsel in distress in this context, right?" He says as he slaps the hand away from his face.

"Whatever."

*******

Life without worrying about stalkers and fake relationship is... Regular. Back to normal.

He goes to school, goes to theater club, goes home, sleep, rinse, repeat.

Also, he tries not to think about how almost nothing changed about his relationship with Namjoon, going from normal to fake dating to back to normal. If he let his mind wander, he'd overanalyse how they acted as they usually did to make people believe they were dating. Huh.

Exhibit A.

Namjoon gets home to find him finishing a 10 funniest Britain's got talent auditions video.

"Hyung, not again. We talked about this. You should be writing your paper. You know when you watch one of these you can't stop."

"It's a rabbit hole, I swear to god. Plus, YouTube knows. It knows, and it just keeps showing me more and more recommendation of audition's video. They got me by the Balls, Namjoonie."

Namjoon's sits down on the couch next to him, and Seokjin does the most natural thing, which is, reclining back until his dongsaeng passes his arms around him to hug him to his chest. Then, he presses on the button for the next video.

Exhibit B.

Namjoon is in one of his mood where nothing can disturb him of the song he's working on, not even hunger. He's been sitting in front of his laptop for at least eight straight hours. Seokjin knows, he counted.

Namjoon's got his headphone on and his clavier out, and all of his mixing equipment he saved for years to acquire are spread out across his desk. He's bobbing his head one moment, then growling in irritation the next.

Seokjin puts the rice cooker to good use then, preparing some slim kimbap that he cuts into small bite size.

Yoongi watch him cook from the kitchen table where he's working on a cup ramen, slurping obnoxiously. He raises an eyebrow, scoffing when he sees Seokjin disappear into the room Namjoon has yet to come out since that morning.

He doesn't bother trying to win Namjoon's attention, just grabs the first piece and feeds it in his dongsaeng's mouth. Or more like shoves it. He's not against manually making Namjoon chew, but thankfully, even in his hyper focused state, Namjoon’s reflexes make quick work of the pieces Seokjin feeds him. Then, once the plate has been emptied, he swats at the rice stuck to Namjoon’s lower lips, just as Hoseok steps into the room.

His roommate takes two steps back and gets out the way he came in.

Exhibit C.

Namjoon's overhear Jungkook telling what transpired that night to Taehyung and all hell break loose.

Seokjin is not even mad at the maknae, who probably only wanted to brag to his boyfriend. But maybe he'll put a little extra gochugaru in his spicy cold noodle next time.

It's Saturday night, and before he has to give his soul back to the university, he's playing a little DS to relax. He's got his favourite DS-and-chill outfit on, and nothing can ruin this night.

Except.

He hears the front door slamming, then somebody running, then his door burst open to his maknae whose face has gone comically pale.

"Seokjin-Hyung, he- he Knows. Namjoon-Hyung knows."

That's all it takes for Seokjin to jump to his feet and run at the door, trying to stop Namjoon from getting himself into prison. He's pretty sure it’s not as glamorous as prison playbook made it seem. And Namjoon is not even a star player.

He attracts looks from passerby, maybe because the shoes he has on don't match. Taehyung's faux-fur moccasin do not go well with Jungkook plain puma trainer. It might also be because he didn't take the time to get out of his pink onesie. It even has a bunny tail.

"Namjoon! Stop!" He shout-whispers once he's a few meters behind him. Namjoon ignores him, power walking towards the subway station.

"Yah! You better stop right there Kim Namjoon!" He says a little bit louder. Suddenly, Namjoon takes a right turn into a smaller street. Dumbfounded, Seokjin turns the corner to follow after him, only to stops abruptly inches from the man's face.

He looks livid, and Seokjin almost has the reflex to take a step back. But this is Kim Namjoon we're talking about.

"Why didn't you tell me." He sounds cold and angry, but most of all, disappointed.

Seokjin crosses his arms, giving the younger man the sassy eyebrows treatment. The bunny tail makes it all the more credible.

"Namjoon, you're hellbent on whopping some asshole's ass when you're still in your slippers and haven't even heard the whole story"

Namjoon looks down at his slipper clad feet. Monstrosities Seokjin bought him as a joke a few years ago, when he dropped Cheonggukjang broth all over his old ones, rendering them a brown and stinky mess. The panda shaped slippers had been a fixture since then.

"If Jungkook hadn't been there he would have-"

"While I am truly grateful for our precious maknae's intervention, I am not as powerless as you make me seem, and I had a very powerful and teeth shattering headbutt up my sleeve that I would have used otherwise. Now; Let's talk about how you were about to go get your ass kicked out of school for something that did not happen."

"I-... Hyung."

"You need to learn how to control your anger. It's an issue; whenever something set you off you just spring into action without thinking. It's going to get you in jail someday."

"Hyung"

"Don't 'hyung' me right now, I’m being serious. You have a brain, and I know for a fact that you know how to use it, so use it." He says, poking a crocked finger into Namjoon's chest. The younger man grabs his hand as a whole, stopping his probing. He doesn't let go, leaving them in a weird hand holding position.

"I would gladly go to jail for you, Seokjinah" he says, avoiding his eyes once he speaks.

"Yah, I'm the hyung here, I'm the one who should do the protecting." Seokjin answers to Namjoon weirdly intense declaration.

"As if, you only use the hyung card when you want to win an argument, you're the tallest toddler I know."

"Kim Namjoon, you wanna die?" He says, irritation plaguing his tone. But his dongsaeng carries on.

"You're the biggest coward I know, even worse than Hoseok. So, I know for a fact that you aren't a natural born protector. I've known you for so long I also know that you would go to scary height to protect those you love. But you also tend to forget yourself and your own safety. And that's why I feel like it's my job to take care of anyone that fucks with you. So please, don't hide this kind of stuff from me."

"That's sweet, but I raised you better than for you to solve problems with your fist. You've been hanging out with yoongi too much recently."

Namjoon rolls his eyes but grabs Seokjin's other hand.

So, yeah. They're just standing face to face, holding hands. The silence stretches on, until Seokjin runs out of details to map out on Namjoon's face.

"Well." He says, more to put an end to the silent staring contest than to start an actual conversation. "This has been weirdly informative." His hands are getting moist the longer they stand around like a couple of love sick kids. Namjoon still doesn't say anything, just stare at him. "Moral of this story, don't go beat up anyone in my name, please". More silence.

"Alright, so we're doing this weird staring into each other eyes while swinging our hands around, not awkward at all. Nope."

"You know hyung,-" Namjoon starts, voice steady, but with a weird nervousness to it.

Seokjin waits patiently.

"You know, I never told you this before but-"

Seokjin blinks, now curious about what is about to be said.

"You're very pretty."

Namjoon’s face flush a dark red after the comment leaves his mouth.

Seokjin thinks it's adorable. He also thinks hearing Namjoon compliment him is his new favourite thing in the world. But of course, his automatic answer is sarcasm.

He scoffs, and he could probably find a better comeback if he wasn't so busy trying to hide his matching blush. "Tell me something I don't know." He answers dryly.

There's a heavy silence hanging over them, and Seokjin wonders for a second what kind of weird knowledge Namjoon is about to drop on him this time.

"I really fucking love you, Kim Seokjin." Namjoon answers, squeezing his hands harder.

If he hadn't been shocked out of his mind, he probably would have been self-conscious about the river of sweat accumulating between their palms. But his brain has been frozen still, as the rest of his body.

"I've been in love with for so long, I can't for the love of god remember since when. And if you don't feel the same, I think we're all mature enough to not destroy ten years of friendship over it."

Seokjin opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and he just lets it hanging slack. It matches his eyes perfectly; just on the edge of popping out of his skull.

"But I really needed to say it. Because every time I look at you shoving food in your mouth, or hear you say a new dad joke even worse than the last, or doing that weird shoulder dance that makes you look like a moron, I fall a little bit harder in love with you. And I needed to know if I had a chance, because if I don't put a brake to my feelings soon, I'm scared I won't be able to love anyone else as hard as I love you."

It takes a moment for his brain to comeback online, and then Seokjin thinks about everything this could change, break and ruin. But it's only for a fleeting second, because he also thinks about the puzzle pieces. How him and Namjoon have fit from day one. How they've been each other's support system since the beginning.

Also how they've basically been married without legal contract or physical perks for the better of the last few years of their relationship. Being Facebook Official with the man he loves doesn't sound so bad.

"The kids are going to give us so much shit when we tell them we might finally make their marriage goal a reality." He answers, and Namjoon chuckles with a smile so wide his face might crack. They swing their hands still clasped together, looking at each other fondly.

"Sooo, are you going to kiss me or do I have to do all the work?" His boyfriend-future husband asks.

Seokjin snorts, grabs him by his stupid face and smash their mouth together.

*******

"Does that mean we can call you eomma and appa without you getting mad?" Taehyung asks, picture of innocence.

"That's hyung for you Taehyungah." Seokjin says. He's not about to be disrespected by his favorite dongsaeng.

"Alright, eomma-hyung.".

"These youngsters" he swears quietly.

#magicshopnet #bts fanfic #namjin fanfic #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #this was supposed to be straight up non established established relationship fluff #but i ended up using it to work through some issues lol #bangtanscenery

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vaguely-concerned · 6 years ago

Text

I’m back! Temeraire Let’s Read:Tongues of Serpents

- Tharkay literally shows up at the beginning of the second sentence; STRONG start, I highly approve, great improvement on every level

fsdafhsadkjlfh cooly tossing tables and throwing people’s drinks in their faces in the bar brawl fkjsdhfksdalfhasdj this ain’t his first rodeo huh

- these dumbasses having to clean up from the bar brawl before going home so their dragons don’t go out there and demand to have a word with the dudes who bullied their lil boys... oh my g o d

- “it was true, if one wished to be very particular about such things, that laurence was a convicted felon” t e m e r a i r e... ~*technicality schmechnicality*~ it was barely treason at all really

also temeraire being in super protective mother hen/older brother mode over the eggs is perfect

- Jane Rolands bluff, jovial letter writing is Everything

- “Have Temeraire throw him overboard,” Tharkay had suggested laconically, when Laurence had escaped to his quarters for a little relief and some piquet . . . “He can fish him out again later,” he added, as an afterthought.

A VISIONARY. An unmitigated joy. “Have Temeraire throw him overboard”. He says what we’re all thinking.

- AAAAAAAAH MUTUAL FIRST NAME BASIS!!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL WTF HAVE THEY BEEN DOING ON THIS TRIP TELL ME IN DETAIL WHEN THE SWITCH HAPPENED PLEASE (also I really like that the first instance we see is “But Tenzing, I cannot trust myself” b/c that was literally the whole point of that scene in VoE. laurence... yes you can. tfw your crush is the goodiest of twoshoes and can barely move for it and doesn’t even knoooow)

- y’know if Laurence could get over this thought that asking a direct question to a friend is just ~*intolerably rude*~ he could get so much shit done

(I guess tharkay, clearly a follower of the rosa diaz school of ‘no one is ever going to know shit about me’, is like fuck yeah I’ve struck gold with this one)

- “So spake the pot” oh I do love Actually Pretty Chill Dad William Laurence finally letting the snark out more frequently, it suits him very much (I guess his main claims to fame in a lot of circles is a) treason and b) spoiling his dragon rotten)

- rankin’s name is mentioned and everyone’s like HIIISSSSSSSS and RIGHTLY SO FUCK THAT GUY JUSTICE FOR LEVITAS

- temeraire is talking to the egg about consent and saying he’ll make sure it won’t have to do anything it doesn’t want to fjklsadhfkaslhfsd my heart

- lol lol lol weeeell in hindsight who could’ve guessed captain and second in command of the dragon pirates would have a materialistic superficial kid huh

- . . . Granby said, with a look half affection and half exasperation oh granby baby still carrying that torch huh

- lol lol lol just the implication of sara maden and laurence silently tops up his drink and he’s like ‘cheers’ and they’re both quiet for a moment flskdfs

if you think about it that must’ve been such a wild day in his life tho -- like first Laurence furiously fires him for being gone at a crucial moment and then immediately unfires him when it turns out he’s been chasing a lead and being the only goddamn person really working on solving all their problems (as is his wont), then he finds out his ex is getting married and steadfastly pretends it doesn’t even bother him, lol what are feelings I heard only losers have them (extremely relatable -- I guess he must have known it was in the cards though, because he specifically tells Laurence at the beginning he didn’t intend to go back to Istanbul, so it’s been over for a while?) then they go on a life and death chase through the sewers, and THEN, before he knows it, after half a book of being kind of a mistrustful dick to him, Laurence does a 180° and is there offering eternal friendship with big soulful eyes after seeing him get upset one time and y’know I guess I see why that got to him lol

- aw man I know it’s never going to happen but I am getting sort of wistful and teary-eyed over this pirate (cough cough I mean legally sanctioned privateer of course) AU that’s going entirely to waste

here are some tags I left on this superb piece of fanart: #I just got to the part where tharkay makes the suggestion and like... I know it's not happening #but what a shimmering tender mother of pearl dream to carry in one's heart lol #just a lil pirate family out there wrecking shit #temeraire would get wind of what the east india company actually does and they'd inevitably turn against them and fuck 'em up... *sigh* #fix it fic: the boys kiss and the east india company is stopped from committing further atrocities! all is well

so that’s basically my position on that

- “I’m sure there’s nothing too dangerous out there, in the fucking untamed Australian wilderness,” Temeraire said, tempting fate to a frankly anxiety-inducing extent

- hell yeah demane is the only one with presence of mind to actually find some food; you go buddy <3

- my boy tharkay slinking off in the middle of the night without telling anyone and solving everyone’s problems... *dabs at eyes* just like old times

- oh wow rankin really is just a piece of shit in every way huh

- fhasdklhfsadfsad temeraire being like ‘I know tharkay is a strong independent human who is perfectly capable of making his own decisions and don’t need no dragon... but also he’s clearly one of my humans tho why is he riding on another dragon :(’ THE CUTEST SHIT

- temeraire silently dissing his dad over refusing to believe in ghosts ~*except*~ for the holy spirit adslfhaskjdlhfs

- demane taking in the strange little hatchling... im crey... he truly hits me straight in the heart every time

also laurence steadfastly Doing The Right Thing and following his convictions is so deeply healing after all that bullshit he went through in the last book... makes me feel all safe and calm inside haha

- actually when you think about it it’s so fucked up that they apparently just straight up murder dragons with birth defects in england as a matter of course b/c like. dragons come out of the egg fully sentient and capable of understanding what’s being said around them. kulingile literally understood every word they were saying as they discussed whether or not they should be KILLING HIM. j e s u s thank god for demane and laurence’s stubborn insistence on being good

- temeraire going straight from mother hen to extremely impatient and jealous older brother the moment an egg hatches never gets old. all these dumb little babies just complaining and stealing his crew ugh (HOW FUCKING CUTE is him deciding kulingile could be a scholar or something tho #dragon rights)

- “I wish,” Temeraire said to Laurence, “I do wish that other dragons were not always thinking me peculiar . . . it makes one doubtful.” BABY BOY NOOOO he’s just so sweet and he’s so secretly scared that laurence might resent him a little after the whole treason business and OW right in the parental heart that fucks me up

- Temeraire’s indignant “Oh!”s always soothe my soul it’s so adorable

- little emily roland yelling “damn you all for cowards!” after a bunch of grown men fleeing while she reloads her gun and takes aim again is incredible poetic cinema (and also demane joining her... I love the bond they’ve got going on in the background here)

- aw poor sipho :( at least he still has temeraire to nerd out with and stuff but that’s some difficult shit to process for a kid

kulingile bobbing around tethered to temeraire like a small balloon at a fair is such an image, what a blessing, temeraire’s exasperated brand of babysitting is so funny

- laurence being a Dad to the kids in his crew... mana from heaven

- YESSS they crossed the endless miles of DEADLY AUSTRALIAN WILDERNESS so laurence could be MORTIFIED as the emperor’s adopted son at a party this is the content I am here for

- hell yeah let’s play a round of pimp my captain!!!!!!!!!!

“And,” Laurence said. “And you are certain that this should be appropriate for the occasion; not, perhaps, excessive?” I can’t b r e a t h e he can’t even say shit because his dragon boi is so happy fsaldfjsldhfasjlh and then granby making fond fun of him what a beautiful cherry on top of this sweet sweet laurence being embarrassed sundae

- william ‘I’m here to kick ass and describe menswear in fastidious detail and I’ve already kicked my own ass twice today’ laurence strikes again

- this description of the dragons sitting around squabbling as they watch shiny sparkly things is the most endearing few pages in modern literature do not @ me

- it’s kind of fucked up that the emperor of china is giving laurence more of the sort of warmth and validation a father should than his actual dad ever did lol. u did good curing the dragon plague, weird european adopted son I am proud of you

- every time temeraire is really upset about something my soul suffers a small wound

thank god he doesn’t actually know what opium is really used for most of the time yet (also I am obligated to divulge that I am entirely charmed by tharkay’s sardonic yet clear eyed cynicism on the issue, I cannot be anything but what I am and he hasn’t had enough proper page time in this half of the book so I will take what I can get)

- ...I kind of just realized that I imagine the sea serpents basically as long-ass gyaradoses... OH NO

I will say I respect the ‘give no fucks’ vibe they give off -- it’s a real ‘we’re here to eat fish & party and if you try to get in our way we’re gonna have you as a snack’ mood and I cannot fault them for it

- iskierka is such a fuckboi it’s glorious

- nOOOOOO tharkay is leaving again fuck ;_______; is his life just an endless procession of semi-unwillingly having to go back to istanbul again these days

Temeraire did not see why Tharkay should have to go so far, only to deliver news; and particularly when he did not seem as though he wished to go, very much. DDDDDDDD: THIS SUCKS you know that when a) he’s letting it show and b) temeraire notices it that he is dragging his heels big time over this lol

‘there can be very little to call you back to this part of the world any time soon’ LAURENCE YOU 24 KARAT IDIOT YOU ARE HERE HE CAME TO AUSTRALIA FOR YOU ALREADY WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

all that said whenever I see a ‘Tenzing’ on the page my heart does a happy little dance. ah well now let’s settle in and wait for what horrible catastrophe will happen now that tharkay is gone... come back soon buddy

- ooooooooooooh that is so good, using the last chapter + epilogue to show how the... idk moral wound I guess laurence received victory of eagles has finally healed, that’s so reassuring. he just wants to do good things for good causes and can’t be badgered, cajoled, threatened or convinced to do anything less anymore and it’s all so sweet and well earned. that’s some good development through this book too, from ‘tenzing I cannot trust myself’ to this. excellent stuff

- while I did quite enjoy this book for the character moments it is incredibly weirdly structured? like the beginning drags a bit with the quite uninteresting colony politics and stuff but then they’re finally travelling and then... nothing really happens plot wise before the sea serpents freak the fuck out at the end there lol. I’m mostly a character-oriented reader tho so I’m pretty fine with it.

ETA: actually now that I think about it I’d say that my biggest gripe with this book is that it doesn’t engage at all with the perspective of the native australian people? even though one of the dragons settles down with one group? god knows it’s not like there was no time to dive into it, considering all that time spent in the fucking wilderness lol

we’re going to the inca empire next tho apparently fuck YEAH!!! that’s such an underexplored and extremely interesting part of history, my body is Ready

#temeraire #tongues of serpents #his majesty's dragon #meta #back again after a brief pause! still crying a lot about tharkay! the more things change huh

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thefangirlingbarista · 5 years ago

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my family is celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow. And I just want to list some of the things i am eternally grateful for this year

My family, obviously. The thing is, if you would’ve asked me nine/ten years ago if i am thankful for them, i probably wouldve said no. my dad was a poison to us – still is at times tbh. but my mom filing for the divorce, though it was painful for all of us in different way (and probably not the ‘traditional’ ways) was the best thing she’s ever done for our little family. and now our little family is growing. my older sister and her family have troubles of their own, and things have happened to their kids that should never happen to any living soul, but they’re not only surviving it. they’re thriving. my brother and his family continues to grow. they’re a constant source of anxiety for me for so many different reason, but his oldest son is the reason i didnt commit suicide 7 years ago. that little cuddle bug of mine has my heart, as does his sister, and the little one on the way. they bring so much light and happiness in my life, that the loudness and chaos that’s never too far behind them is completely worth it. my baby sister and my mom, who have seen me at my darkest and lowest points and still love and support me. my papaw and cousins who help me remember my mimi in all the best ways.

My friends. God really has blessed me with an abundance of true friends. i’ve come to realize that a lot of people go their whole lives with only one – if that – true friend. And here I have @fangirlinglike and K and T and R&S back is Australia. I have Sara, who is perhaps the kindest soul on our planet, and who I adore completely. These people know the darkest parts of my soul, yet love me anyway. I don’t understand it, but I’m not going to question it. I don’t think I could do life without them.

My pets. I’ve lost more than I thought was bearable over the past years, but the ones that are still with me bring me joy like nothing else. Cookie is so emotionally intelligent and always senses when I need comfort. Nialler is a goob, who only has a half a brain most of the time, and brings me laughter throughout all the seasons of my life. Artie, who has more personality than any dog should ever have. Herc who yells at me and then loves me and is possibly the most bipolar cat i ever met.

My job and my kids. All of them. even the ones who have moved on. P continues to teach me new things even though he’s not mine anymore. all of them remind me of my purpose and calling, and though they are difficult and are causing me to go grey, i love them with my entire being. i wouldnt trade my job for the world.

technology. THANK U FOR THIS @ GOD. i hear my friends laugh that live half way across the world. i can talk to them and send them memes and vent and rant and gush about how much i love them even though they’re not sitting right beside me. technology is allowing me to keep up with friends i otherwise wouldnt be able to so easily.

music. it lifts my spirits, it bonds me with people, it reminds me of my childhood, of falling in love, of traveling, and adventures. it stirs my creative flame.

writing. I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS YALL and writing is an outlet. i fear without it, i would combust. i can create whole worlds that havent been touched by anyone else. i can create alternate universes for my beloved fictional children. i can write worlds that mirror my own but have a better outcome. when i have a pen in my hand, i feel unstoppable.

my church and the people in it. a constant in my ever changing life. a beacon that is constantly shining so when i lose my way, i can always find it again. a church for the unchurched. a church that is helping people learn how to know, love, and follow Jesus. a church that doesn’t condemn, but love.

planes trains and automobiles. without which i wouldnt know half the people i do, wouldnt be able to see 90% of the places i have been, wouldn’t be able to visit and see my loved ones.

Meds. i finally feel like myself, maybe not completely but im getting there. and im so glad that i am able to take this medicine without it increasing my anxiety. im so thankful that it works and im becoming my true self again.

I could probably come up with another ten, but im tired and my food is getting cold.

If you bothered reading this all the way through, don’t forget to tell people you’re thankful for them. They just might need to hear that this holiday season.

#life of jess #im thankful for all of u guys too #thanksgiving 2019

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kaibagirl007 · 5 years ago

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Come Undone 4/6

( the fourth part of a mini side-fic series to accompany my RP with @dragontamer05 )

During the couple of weeks since agreeing to their truce, Seto’s days had been spent on his own between worlds whilst he continued to monitor his descendant’s irrational and fluctuating mood via their spiritual link. It wasn’t ideal, but after having realised that his constant presence and persistence only made Kaiba more reluctant,- and disposition and health worse,- he had hoped that the timeout might help the other reclaim some stability and develop a more optimistic frame of mind that would work for them both.

Nothing was altered though, but a small success came when a positive mood change was sensed with no trace of narcotics in use. Was this it? Had his descendant finally heeded some of the advice so many had offered which had been rejected until now? Something had certainly lifted the other’s spirit and he was curious to find out what…

The screeching and screaming sound of what Seto had once been told was ‘music’, filled the cockpit of the dragon jet as his ghostly form materialised in the seat behind the pilot. He peered out at the view beyond the cockpit and groaned as the aircraft looped, causing him to feel queasy. ‘Be thankful I do not possess a physical form’

“You’re not a fan of flying I see.” Kaiba quipped back in amusement as he turned down the sound of the symphonic metal band he’d been listening to. He kept calm as he refused to let the other’s appearance ruin his last remaining pleasure and the good mood flying in his jet gave him. Besides, he was,- rather surprisingly,- starting to miss human interaction these past few days and secretly welcomed the company.

‘If man were meant to fly, Ra would have bestowed us all with wings.’ Seto responded as he timidly glanced down at the earth below them. ‘How can anyone possibly find this enjoyable?’

“Heh, I thought you’d be used to looking down on the world from the afterlife.”

‘Sometimes your ignorance is astounding.’

“Oh, I’m the ignorant one?” Kaiba scoffed. What the hell had he said to offend this time? “That’s rich coming from someone obstinate gaijin who expects his outdated gods, rituals and beliefs to still be relevant thousands of years later, and on a world-wide scale!”

Both exchanged annoyed looks towards each other via a small angled mirror that allowed the pilot to see his passenger behind him.

“I never asked for you to be here, so leave if you so greatly disapprove… But if you choose to remain, don’t preach to me about the past. All that destiny bullshit you’ve been spewing is nothing but just that; bullshit.”

‘Unfortunately for you, it is all true.’ Seto kept his cool as he spoke, though he was gravely disappointed with the attitude that had failed to alter at all in his absence. Maybe if he tackled things from a different angle he’d have a better response? ‘Anyway, I am beginning to doubt if you are even the slightest bit deserving of Kisara.’

“Reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me.” Kaiba smirked as he flew his jet higher. Had the other just tried to play on his ego and expected him to argue his self-worth? Someone really hadn’t been paying attention over these last six months or so. He wasn’t worthy, not after what he’d done.

Silence filled the cockpit as the current track playing came to an end and neither of them spoke during that void. For a moment, Kaiba considered turning his music off altogether before changing his mind as the next track started. He wasn’t listening to it though as his mind focused elsewhere. “Why me? What is it that makes you so strongly believe I’m ‘destined’ to be with Kisara?”

The pharoah’s bait had been taken as his descendant now willingly sought information. ‘That would be my doing.’ Armed with the knowledge that the other had witnessed certain events of ancient Egypt due to the powers of the Millennium Items, Seto’s eyes stared out from the small mirror as he began his explanation. ‘During the days that followed Kisara’s death, I allowed my heart to overrule my head and sought the gods help to free both her Ba and Ka from the stone tablet she had been imprisoned in. It was a decision that divided my council, but as the newly appointed pharaoh, my judgement was final. And so, with Mana’s help, she and I conducted a ritual that made it possible for direct contact with the gods where I attempted to bargain with them many times, each to no avail..’

As Seto paused for a brief moment, Kaiba’s quick glance at the mirror saw eyes glazed in the memories that were now being recalled. Eyes that were far older,- and presumably wiser?,- than any he’d ever seen. There was also a sense of sorrow that seemed to run far deeper than that felt for a woman whom the other had barely known.

‘Lucky for me, my persistence had not gone unnoticed and drew Osiris’ attention. It was him who came to me and made the proposal I would accept.’

“And what proposal would that be?”

‘I was told Kisara would one day be reborn many years from then.’ Seto felt pleased that some kind of progress was being made by the other finally hearing him out. ‘That she and my descendant would meet, perform a ‘union of souls’, and her Ba free to move on into the afterlife once their time together was over.’

Despite what had been said, Kaiba still remained sceptical. Was he seriously supposed to believe that him wedding Kisara was the solution to everything? “If that’s one part of her soul, then what will happen to the other?”

‘Her Ka,- the Blue Eyes White Dragon,- is as immortal as the gods themselves and will remain anchored to the stone tablet. However, she would become free to roam as she pleases. Currently she is tied to the stone tablet, Kisara and your deck. There was another territory for her too, which I believe you destroyed with your own hands.’

“I did no such thing!”

Seto remained calm as a defensive flare in the other’s mood was felt. Even so, he ventured, ‘Are you sure?’

Kaiba felt his breath catch in his throat. Could it be possible that the incident where he had torn the fourth Blue Eyes White Dragon card is what was being spoken of? Is that what was considered territory for the Ka to roam? No, it couldn’t be. If it was, then that would only add weight to the whole ‘destiny’ bullshit… This is all just inside my head, NONE of this is real, it never has been! I’m experiencing a mental breakdown-

‘This is not breakdown, Seto. You are my descendant and destined to be with Kisara. Her love still burns for you, as yours does for her. Stop hating on yourself and fix things!’

Eyes narrowed at the face staring back at him in the mirror. “Heh, there’s contradiction in your words. Either I fix things or leave it to destiny; which is it?”

‘Destiny made you in my image, bestowed my name on you, and amplified far too many of my negative traits in your personality.’ Seto could feel the other in the early stages of shutting down and did his best to remain calm as he spoke. ‘Not only that, but destiny entrusted Kisara’s Ba to the pregnant archeologist who helped uncover the Blue Eyes’ stone tablet. Destiny then brought you both together in a fateful encounter where you unexplainably fell for each other at first sight. The rest-‘

“Is down to me? Pfft, your prophecy turned out to be a dud. If I were you, I’d ask for a refund.” The jet’s controls made a crunching sound as Kaiba forced the levers and control stick so that the jet performed a twisting u-turn and begin the return journey to the island retreat he owned where he had been staying the last few days to avoid his brother’s surveillance.

The jet’s manoeuvre,- something he sensed had been done on purpose just to spite him,- made Seto queasy and prompted an angry burst. ‘I have not spent three thousand years in solitude just to watch you defy destiny!’

“Three thousand years in solitude? Heh, and people have the nerve to call me antisocial.”

‘Forfeiting my place in the afterlife was the price I paid to Osiris. I cannot move on from my solitary limbo until Kisara is free.’

“Then more fool you.”

‘Grr!’ Seto grit his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t take this much longer and was losing his patience. ‘If you love her as much as you claim you do, you WOULD NOT want for her to be trapped for all eternity!’

“DO NOT blame this on me!” Kaiba was fed up of being accused of predecessor shit he’d had no part of and certainly wasn’t going to foot the blame for something that had happened thousands of years ago. “If you had loved Kisara at all then you wouldn’t have let her die like she did!”

‘I did not foresee, nor could I have prevented what transpired. But I loved her, as was evident by my actions-‘

“Mhmm, you loved her sooo much that you went on to copulate with other women.”

‘YOU are one to talk!’ Seto growled furiously as he stared at his descendant’s reflection. ‘As pharaoh I had an OBLIGATION to find a queen and father an heir. It was NOT because I felt so very little self-worth within myself!’

“Oh yeah?” Kaiba contested defensively at having had his destructive behaviour made light of. “Well, I’m sure your queen and offspring were ‘thrilled’ to be nothing more than commodities for you-“

‘HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE THAT I DO NOT LOVE MY WIFE AND CHILDREN!!’

A nerve had been touched upon, but had not brought the satisfaction Kaiba had previously hoped it would. The other’s choice to use ‘do’ as opposed to ‘did’ told him all he needed to know. Instead of gloating, he found himself concerned for his doppelgänger now struggling to conceal the grief that thousands of years of being kept apart from those he loved had caused. “This whole thing hasn’t just been about Kisara, has it? You’ve an ulterior motive too.”

The soft rumblings of heavy metal played in the background whilst Seto avoided eye contact in the mirror. There was nothing more he wanted to say. It would only be used against him in highlighting his selfishness for wanting to advance to the afterlife. Silently, he looked out amongst the clouds and saw white fluffy dunes as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t too dissimilar from the midnight sands he’d often stared out across from his bedroom window during times of contemplation. Okay, so maybe this sky view wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d first assumed.

His thoughts drifted into memories thousands of years old. Memories that any living being would have long lost the capability to recollect so vividly, yet he did each and every day: the unexpected romance that had blossomed with his wife several months into their arranged marriage; the births of all five of their children; the untimely deaths of two of them; his own death on the battlefield as he lay cradled in his eldest son’s arms, followed by his family,- and kingdom,- mourning him thereafter.

Eventually, the pharaoh swallowed his pride and confided in his descendant. ‘A wounded heart struggles to believe that it will ever love again. I bargained with Osiris before realising I would heal in due time. Not only did I fail to heed the warnings from those closest to me, I naively sacrificed everything beyond life in return for Kisara’s eventually release. There is a part of me that still loves her,- no doubt there always will be,- but I went on to find love again. Even though we’re apart, my wife and our children are where my heart truly resides. The separation from them anguishes me greatly…’

“I’m sorry.” Kaiba’s apology was unexpected but nothing short of sincere. He could not even begin to imagine what the other’s pain felt like to be parted from those he loved for thousands of years. “Had I known, I would have thought twice before acting like such a jerk.”

‘You were acting?’ Seto mocked. He withdrew his gaze from the clouds and returned it to the mirror where he saw a look of compassion awaiting him. He was amazed that it had been his own unbosoming to have broken through the other’s defences. It was progress for both of them which continued as he gave his own apology. ‘I too am sorry, for the burden that destiny-‘ he stopped and amended his choice of words, ‘-for the burden that I placed upon you.’

Hearing somebody apologise so earnestly and profoundly to him was a rarity that Kaiba had only ever experienced one,- possibly twice?,- before. Feeling a slight awkwardness descend on him as a result, his eyes wandered to the sky beyond the cockpit. “Personally, I blame the gods. They’re the ones who preyed upon your grief, toyed with you and then failed to deliver what was promised.”

‘Does your acceptance of the situation mean you will-‘

“No!” Kaiba was quick to interject. “I will not set things right with Kisara… At least, not yet.”

Seto frowned as he felt his descendant’s self-confidence clouded over once more. The absence of the emotional wall between them was a clear indication that some progress was being made, but how long was it going to take before the other rediscovered and found acceptance within himself and realised he was worthy of Kisara’s love? Weeks? Months? A year, five, maybe ten? However long it would be, he wasn’t about to abandon him during the process, though he would let things proceed at their own pace without interference from now on.

“Knowing what you do now, would you have done things differently back then and not made the deal?”

A response was momentarily mulled over before Seto gave his honest reply, ’No. Love is not an emotion that you can just turn on and off whenever you please. At times it may feel like it makes you weak but in actual fact, it fortifies and makes you stronger. I will not deny that it can sometimes seem terrifying too, but once you tame that fear, love becomes nothing short of euphoric. And in my experience, there is no greater feeling known to man than when it is reciprocated.’

Once knowing that feeling himself, Kaiba silently agreed. Having allowed his fear to get so out of control though, he doubted his actions would ever be redeemable for him to feel it again. Maybe they weren’t? “What if… you’re mistaken and I’m not the one mentioned in the prophecy?”

’There is no mistake about it,’ Seto assured in a calm and patient manner. ‘You are the last of my line.’

“You’re forgetting my brother; he and Kisara get along quite well.”

The pharaoh shook his head. ‘My descendants are by male lineage.’

“I assure you, Mokuba is all male.”

‘That fact is not what I am disputing- Oh!’ Seto’s eyes widened with realisation and surprise. ‘You genuinely don’t know.’

“Don’t know what?” Kaiba’s eyes flickered from the view outside the cockpit to the reflection in the small mirror. Why was his ancestor suddenly looking so uneasy? “Wait a minute… are you trying to say that he and I don’t share the same father?”

‘Yes. I am sorry that you found out this way.’

What?! Kaiba shook his head as his face twitched. ”No, that’s… that’s not true… Our mother, she… she wouldn’t… No! You’re wrong! DON’T LIE TO ME!!”

Seto could now sense all of the progress that had been made crumbling fast as the other’s resistance to him began to rapidly reform. ‘Regardless of who his father might be, he is still VERY MUCH your brother. Do not EVER forget that!’

Hot, confused and angry tears silently seeped from Kaiba’s now vacant stare. How was he ever meant to look at Mokuba the same from then on? A half-brother that was the end result of infidelity or rape. More tears symbolised that the remaining happiness of his past had now been well and truly obliterated. He suddenly felt very, very empty…

’Say something,’ Seto gently urged as he did his best to try and console his descendant. ’Do not keep it all in. We both know that only leads to extreme heartache.’

No response.

Aware of not much else besides the fact he was zoning out as he flew, Kaiba attempted to ground himself by focusing on the words of the track softly playing in the background:

…(Blaming it on life will never make you stronger)

BE PREPARED FOR THE CONFRONTATION…

The operatic and death metal lyrics seemed to resonate with Kaiba, like some sort of great epiphany had just occurred. “Let’s play a little game,” he smirked as he pulled at the controls and took the jet even higher into the sky.

’A game?’ Whilst it wasn’t an unusual stance for his descendant to take when dealing with his issues, the pharaoh failed to see just how this had any connection to everything else.

“You want me to confront my fears, right? That’s what I’m doing.”

Seto made the mistake of looking down below them. ‘Holy Ra, this is EXTREMELY high up!’

Although Kaiba knew his jet was one of the most advanced out there, any higher than the 50,000ft he was now at, he’d be in danger of hypoxia; the air was already thin enough as it was. Not that it mattered, since he’d begin to descend soon enough. “I’m putting an end to this destiny bullshit once and for all.”

‘I do not understand how this-.’

“It’s quite simple. Will I hit the land/sea before the music track ends, or will I get the opportunity to pull up once the music track has ended? Destiny says I’ll live to fly another day, right?”

’That is NOT how it works!’ Seto argued in a panic. Judging from the wild look in the other’s eyes, he had very little chance of getting through to him. ‘What you are attempting to do is nothing but suicidal!’

“Oh, how easily you abandoned your faith!” Kaiba laughed. “Where’s your gods now, huh?” He cranked up the volume of the stereo just as the instrumental break led into more lyrics:

If you blame all your failures on someone else

You avoid every chance

(You've lost your last chance)

(To learn from yourself)

‘Don’t do this, Seto.’

Too late…The jet’s controls were thrust forward and it entered into a sharp nose-diving descent.

If you blame all your failures on someone else

Without any remorse

(Without your remorse)

’STOP THIS! YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!’

No response.

If you don't face the weakness of your own self

You will take the same course

(You'll take the same course)

Seto retreated into his descendant’s mind in the hope he’d be able to avert the situation from there. No such luck though as he found his route block by a fully erect wall and a sinister looking doppelgänger.

’ThIs OnE iS mY DiScIpLe NoW.’

We can't blame all our failures on someone else

FOR OUR OWN PROTECTION

(So much to protect)

’Who are you?’ Seto asked. He wasn’t the slightest bit fazed by the other’s appearance, the voice on the other hand gave him cause for concern.

’SoMeOnE yOu HaVe ChOsEn To ReNoUnCe.’ The doppelgänger’s face momentarily morphed into that of an animal which had been extinct for close to two millennia.

We can't learn from decisions in our own lives

WITHOUT SELF-REFLECTION

(We will never flee from contingency)

’NoW tAkE lEaVe, DeSeRtEr, AnD pRaY tHaT mY bRoThEr WiLl StIlL hOlD tRuE tO hIs WoRd.’ The god of chaos dematerialised through an otherwise impenetrable wall, and the pharaoh found himself banished to the realm between worlds once more.

WE WILL NEVER FLEE FROM CONTINGENCY

The track ended and the tail of the dragon jet skimmed the water’s surface as a sharp ascent was executed.

“I guess there’s actual truth to this destiny bullshit after all,” Kaiba mused aloud whilst experiencing the greatest adrenaline rush he’d ever known. He felt invincible,- no, he was invincible. Fuck everybody else, no-one was going to stop him from living life as he saw fit. TiMe FoR a PaRtY tO cElEbRaTe.

#my crappy writing #fanfiction #REALLY long post ;;>.>#rp stuff #dragontamer05 #tw: mental health #Sorry this took so long #It went through SO MANY rewrites >~<#It got deeper than I intended it to too ;>.>#The 'thing' about Mokuba is headcanon in ALL my RP verses (not sure what the likelihood of it coming up in the others will be) ;;>.>#I apologise for ThIs SpEeCh PaTtErN ^^;

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