#trauma center spoilers

[scuffle-with-spirals]

I swear people don't talk about the shit that just happens in DS visual novels enough. Like yeah okay we lawyering but you better get this parrot to cough it up on the stand. Hey let's do a detective story but have the presentation be just one of the most impressive uses of the hardwares capabilites and be the most visually interesting shit ever just because. Yes you are a surgeon slicing and dicing and laser beaming the fucking patient but can you disarm a bomb

[pwurrz]

truthless recluse really disassociated so hard he basically became a completely different person. he fought so hard to convince shadow milk cookie that all the torture and torment he was putting him through wasn’t effecting him, that he was finally broken down and apathetic to all that was happening around him.. but on the inside he was terrified.

the trauma of everything he’d experienced, of learning his entire life, everything he worked for, what he had decided was his entire worth and purpose in the world was destined for a path of corruption before the moment he was even born shook him to his very core, but he couldn’t let that show. he couldn’t even hint at how lonely and full of pure despair he was because that’s a sign of weakness, and he knows very well how shadow milk cookie responds to that.

i can’t imagine how utterly miserable pure vanilla must have felt at that moment in time. the light inside his eyes died, nothing left but a lifeless husk of the person he used to be. when he offered to become a cookie of deceit, to share his soul jam with shadow milk so they could rule the world together through chaos and lies… i almost believed him.

and then he pulled the rug out from underneath everyone’s feet by taking control of the soul jam, once he had gotten shadow milk to trust him and put his power into it, shattering it and creating a new one using nothing but sheer willpower. do you understand how insane that is?? the soul jam was given to the ancient heroes as gifts from their ‘gods’, granting them immortality as well as unprecedented power. it’s divine power, a power that took a team of the world’s greatest scientists with the most advanced technology to figure out how to borrow and wield even a fraction of its power.

and pure vanilla not only broke that, but then proceeded to forge an entirely new one.

i lost the plot somewhere along the way, but the point was originally supposed to be: don’t let anyone tell you cookie run kingdom is a childish game for children. it absolutely is not. the fact that they’re all cute cookies is a way to lower your guard before ambushing you with the most fucked up and traumatizing establishing lore ever seen in a mobile game about fucking baked goods.

[its-a-me-mango]

YOU CANNOT USE ANYTHING RELATED TO TRAUMA CENTER AROUND ME AND EXPECT ME TO FOCUS ON ANYTHING ELSE, THIS IS ALL THAT HAPPENED, THIS WAS THE WHOLE EPISODE.

[dravidious]

In Trauma Team the surgeon is this emotionless cool guy and whenever he finishes an operation he say "Let this disease pass from this world" and that's really cool and badass and stuff. But then a person gets caught in an explosion and needs surgery. For explosion injuries. And when the surgeon guy finishes he says the thing. "Let this disease pass from this world." The disease of Explosion. Incredible.

[ct-multifandom]

Trauma Center chapter 1: we have to pull broken glass out of a car accident victim’s arm

Trauma Center chapter 10: we have to cure Hinamizawa Syndrome

[flavored-soda]

i have so many thoughts on the recent episode, but y’all ain’t ready for those yet.

however,

i will still be writing bucktommy fics and buddietommy fics

[antirepurp]

as much as i love stone ocean im just so bummed that we didn't get an explicitly queer reading of jolyne because anasui was changed from a woman to a man before his proper introduction. anasui being a woman wouldn't of course change the weirdly unfitting romantic dynamic he and jolyne were shoved into at the last minute (i do think they have a dynamic it's just infinitely more interesting from a platonic perspective) and like i've mentioned before at worst it would play into the predatory lesbian stereotype today but i would've been much more okay with jolyne ending up together with a woman by the end, and i don't think it's just because of my own biases. i think it could've played into the growth she goes through in stone ocean, even in a kind of poetic sense with stone ocean starting with jolyne going through one of the worst break-ups with her then-boyfriend, getting over her daddy issues over the course of the story which helps her stand on her own and not seek the approval of others constantly, and by the end finding love with another woman who truly and genuinely cherishes and cares about her. it's not like jojo as a series is void of queer themes anyway, so something like it wouldn't have been terribly out of place in the grand scheme of things, and it's gonna be hard for me to not think about this whenever i look at the unfortunate wet poodle that is narciso anasui

[lunarrolls]

the phrase “volta arc” does not mean anything to anyone except like two other people whom i’ve had this discussion with but i will just say that last night ashton started their volta arc and i cried so hard

[mediacircuspod]

This scene was absolutely beautiful BUT it’s also the crux of the issue. You guys this is where the problems start. Because—because Crowley’s already cast out, he finds COMFORT in the idea that they are lonely together. “As far as he can” becoming “as far as they can” is an END to his complete “otherness” and something to appreciate, to covet, and to find solace in. He’s finally not alone.

But—and this is important.

Aziraphale does NOT feel that. He can’t.

This moment is completely and utterly devastating for Zira. He finds out he’s not damned and sure, he’s relieved. But he’s no longer “an Angel” in the way that he’s learned is right. He’s now unchangeably and forever; less holy—a concept that is dearly important to his identity. “[Going] along with heaven as far as he can” is a FAILING on his part. Not heaven’s(at least to him). There is no solace or comfort—he finds existence like that—just the two of them—achingly LONELY. And that’s just how his perspective demands to be taken. It’s the only perspective he is capable of in that moment AND after it, too.

Take into account Crowley has went from having no one AT ALL to having SOMEONE. And he puts EVERYTHING he has into it. This is not good. It’s unfair to Aziraphale. And it’s unfair to himself. On the opposite side, you have Aziraphale. Who has just went from having the ENTIRE HEAVENLY HOST, to having this SINGLE demon— who, one minute ago, Aziraphale thought would be dragging him off to hell.

And the part that aches is that this perspective hasn’t changed. Aziraphale feels like his existence is lacking because he wants so badly to be GOOD. And good is Holy. Good is heavenly. He’s the problem for having morals that are misaligned.

Spoilers for the last episode:

Aziraphale has just been given the validation that he is not only GOOD but the most HEAVENLY Angel there is, the Supreme Archangel, even. And if heavens morals are now HIS morals, then that’s EVERY PROBLEM SOLVED. With a bow even, because Crowley’s basically on heavens side anyway, he’s GOOD, isn’t he? He’s been good this whole time, so why wouldn’t heaven want him back? Reinstating him as Angel would fix everything. They can be together, and they can be good, and they can be HOLY. All Aziraphale’s conflicting emotions about loving Crowley can be packed away because Crowley will be perfect again—and surely Crowley wants to be perfect—wants to be forgiven.(sorry everyone, that hurt me too, oof) Aziraphale is SHOCKED by Crowley’s refusal. He’s devastated that his version of perfect is treated as something naive and distasteful.

Crowley’s devastated too. He’s just lost “their side”. A concept that for 5000+ years has been THE ONLY THING he puts love into besides his car and perhaps his plants(And humanity, but he’ll never admit to that—I’m looking at the “No more dying” scene). Crowley is constantly being devastated by Aziraphale. He’s “too fast”, he’s too evil, he’s too good sometimes. Crowley has always been TOO MUCH. But this is different because for four years, he’s had “them”(on their own side) without the hiding, and without the denial and without Aziraphale constantly putting former jobs between them. PLUS he has a mountain of trauma centered around the concept of “forgiveness”, so that’s not great considering Aziraphale’s last words to him(THAT HE HASNT SAID ALL SEASON EVEN WHEN HE MADE CROWLEY APOLOGIZE IN THE FIRST EPISODE, AHHHHH). He’s losing everything and he’s desperate: Why isn’t he enough, hasn’t he been enough these last 4 years? Hasn’t HE been enough the last 6000?

Aziraphale has always been enough for Crowley. But being enough for Crowley doesn’t fix how Aziraphale has never been enough for himself, not since Job. He looks at this offer as a chance for HIM to be enough, and for Crowley to be FORGIVEN. Crowley looks at it as a betrayal because it’s Aziraphale saying Crowley ISNT enough, and he NEVER has been.

But that’s not what Aziraphale is saying. He’s saying, “Let me fix it for you”. Crowley is hearing, “Let me fix you for it.” Two completely different and completely horrifying concepts.

And then Crowley needs to say HIS piece(oh my gosh, btw, this was heartbreaking).

“Let’s be together on our terms” is basically what I’ve distilled it down to. But Aziraphale hears, “Let’s run away from our problems”

Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away, and Crowley doesn’t want to change who he is.

They both want to be together so badly but they don’t understand why they each want it so differently. And Aziraphale can’t compromise because he’s brainwashed and LOATHES himself. And Crowley can’t compromise because he’s traumatized and LOVES Aziraphale just as he is. Crowley doesn’t want to be good on heavens terms. He can see Heaven for what it is; “toxic”. He hates heaven not only for what the Host did to him, but for HOW THEY TREATED Aziraphale.

They both don’t understand each other because for all the pleading and presenting and monologuing, they never once in that whole conversation, actually talked.

[its-a-me-mango]

YOU CNANNT USE TRAUMA CENTER SECOND OPINION MUSIC AORUND ME AND NOT HAVE ME GO INSANE AND CRAZY ALL AT THE SAME TIME IM GOING TO TRHWO UP EVERYWHERE THIS ISN'T A JOKE I'M PHYSICALY ILL NOW I LOVE TRAUMA CENTER SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS DOES TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 6)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

SotR SPOILERS

Part 5

“Y/N’s become too Capitol for the districts, she’s losing her pull there.” Anyone with eyes can see that’s been Snow’s plan all along. Sever her ties with the people.

“How do we fix that?” Haymitch wonders.

“We don’t,” Plutarch decides. “We let her play her hand and wait.”

“How long?” How many recordings? How many tributes? How many of her tears will waiting cost?

Plutarch lifts a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine. But when the time comes, she’s our in with the Capitol.”

This news does subsequently nothing to make Haymitch feel better. If anything he feels worse. Downing the rest of Plutarch’s prized liquor bottle before returning to the tribute center. They won’t be provided passage home until the games are over.

The penthouse is quiet now, without Maximus and Denali. Y/N can’t cry anymore about it, not now. She’s had one too many glasses of champagne. Making quick work of the buttons on Haymitch’s shirt, as the door of their suite closes behind them.

Alcohol is nice, drugs are better, but nothing brings the temporary tidal wave of euphoria like Haymitch. His mouth pressed to hers, reducing her brain to mush.

Haymitch rests his hand over hers. “You ok?”

“Not really,” Y/N admits. “Need something to take the edge off.”

“I can get you-”

“You,” she breathes, “I just want you.”

Haymitch tightens his hold on her. I want you too. More than I want to want anything.

Her dress joins his shirt and then his pants, until they’re laid bare. Not district, nor Capitol. Perhaps because they are meant to be neither; they belong to each other.

Nothing exists outside of the gentle rocking of his hips. Nothing to do but breathe him in.

Y/N’s fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him closer.

————————————————————————

They aren’t made to stay past the announcement of Cashmere’s victory. The tribute’s caskets are loaded onto the train and they’re off to twelve.

“Do they have family?” Haymitch asks.

“No.”

“Not even extended? No aunts or uncles?”

“I don’t know, Haymitch.” Y/N sighs. “They’d been going it alone all their lives, if they had someone, I’m sure they would’ve been there.”

Haymitch nods.

“I can ask Cherry and Tucker if they have room.” Tyson’s parents have a little cemetery outback, couldn’t bear to be parted from their son. A few others from the seam take up residence in the spaces beside him now.

Again he nods, before tipping his empty glass upside down and rising to his feet. “I’ll be in the bar car if you need me.”

Y/N lowers her gaze, waiting until the door slides closed behind him to stand. She is headed elsewhere, to the car where two coffins rest, side by side. Collapsing to her knees in the small space between them and resting a hand over each.

Her gut tells her that under her right palm lies Denali, the spitfire of a girl who showed up the careers. And beneath her right is the little boy who clung to her in the elevator. Maximus. But Y/N has not the want nor will to push back the lids and prove her theory.

She remains there, holding vigil until her legs ache. Shifting position enough to lie down and cry herself to sleep.

Once he’s nice and wasted Haymitch stumbles down to the train car farthest from their sleeping quarters. The sight of Y/N’s feet poking out from between the caskets is an unwelcome reminder that this is standard practice for her.

He crouches down, giving her leg a little shake.

“Haymitch?” Y/N lets out a sleepy sigh.

“Come to bed, angel.”

“I don’t wanna leave them.”

“I know,” Haymitch breathes.

“You can go, it’s ok.” She won’t be alone.

“I’ll stay,” though the notion is still foreign to him.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s first stop after departing the train station is the Carrell’s front door. Her district partner, Tyson, had taken care to list off each of his siblings favorite snacks, then his Ma and Pa. Y/N takes equal care to make sure she never comes to them empty handed.

His parents, Cherry and Tucker, embrace her with open arms. Growing together through their collective loss.

Today is different. His siblings are sent to their rooms and Y/N finds herself strapped to the dining room chair.

“What are you doing?” She laughs. Surely this is a joke of some sort.

“What are you doing?” Tyson’s father bites out.

“I brought you cinnamon rolls.” Y/N stammers, “you don’t like them anymore?”

“Don’t do that.” Cherry snaps.

“Do what?” Y/N is starting to panic now, struggling at the rope binding her hands behind her back.

“Act like you’re the same. Nothin’ about you is the same.” The woman says. “You stopped goin’ to the hob, stopped comin’ to see us. Married a man who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire, started chummin’ it up with those freaks in the Capitol.”

Tucker shakes his head.

“Uh, uh, not my girl.” Cherry presses on, “I started askin’ around, tryin’ to make sense of what I was seein’. Turns out, somethin’ like this happened before. With the McCoy’s girl.”

“What are you-”

“They took that baby for the games, but she didn’t make it that far. Those animals did somethin’ to her, replaced her with somebody who had a bug in her ear. Didn’t fool her parents none.”

“Like a body double?” Y/N asks.

“The Callow boy died a while before she did and didn’t smell half as foul when he got home.” Tucker recounts.

“I don’t understand.”

“She was long gone before anybody knew and that was over a decade ago.” Cherry murmurs, “imagine how good they coulda got at passin’ people off for somebody else in fourteen years.”

“You think I’m someone else?” Y/N frowns, “a body double from the Capitol?”

“Maybe not a double, maybe they did somethin’ to you.”

“Nothing like you think.” Y/N assures them.

“I love you like my own, so I’m only gonna ask you once.” Tucker drawls, “did they put something in your head?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “If you have questions about what happened to the girl in the Capitol during the Quarter Quell, Haymitch might know.”

“I don’t trust Haymitch any further than I can throw him,” Tucker runs a hand over his grief stricken face. “And right now I’m not even sure I can trust you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Then tell us what happened. And it better make a hell of a lot more sense than what you’ve been saying, little girl.”

Y/N pauses, collecting herself. “Snow was going to sell me to the highest bidder. Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Why would President Snow give a damn if you married him or not?” It doesn’t make any sense.

Y/N tells her. “A victor has never married a victor before, the curiosity was there. Snow just took advantage of it, he recorded us together and sold that instead. Threatened my family, if I didn’t perform, I’m willing to bet that includes you too… So I performed.”

The room is silent.

“It’s up to you, believe me or don’t. I came here to make sure you were ok and to ask if I could bury my kids in your backyard.” No secret Capitol agenda.

“Tell us something only you would know.” Tyson’s father demands, wanting to believe her but needing to be sure.

“The first flower I left for Tyson was a dandelion. When it died, I replaced it with a daisy, and a bluebell after that.”

This is Y/N, as best they’ll ever be able to tell.

“Should I keep going?”

Cherry cuts the rope around Y/N’s wrists. “Why do you want to bury them here?”

“They didn’t have a family before, I thought it might be nice for them to have one now.” Y/N massages the blood back into her hands.

Tyson’s mother joins his father, in front of the younger woman. “Sorry about all that.”

“It’s fine.” Y/N sighs, “no one has ever gone to the trouble of tying me up for an intervention before. You guys must really love me.”

“You do what you gotta, from now on Ma and Pa are with you.” You’re the closest thing we’ve got to our boy.

Y/N thanks them, allowing them to hold her for as long as it suits them. The same way she always has.

Eventually she finds her way back home, back to Haymitch and the house in Victor’s Village. He’s the only one who understands her now.

“What’d they say about the kids?” Haymitch wonders.

“They said yes.”

“You were gone a while.”

“They tied me to a chair for interrogation.” Y/N tells him.

What in the hell? “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually. They thought I was a Capitol body double or that I had a bug in my head.”

Oh.

Part 7

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00 @solacestyles @inky-sun @dadbodfanatic-x @sandorcleganeslutt @indigoashh @mustainelove @darkened-writer @ch3rrybutterfly @boredomquest @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial @kisskittenn @kwllakka @feeblemindedfool @oopsieikilledan @that-one-fangirl69 @just-levyy @thisisthepartwhereishutup @alixxhere @quackitys-amor @pepelachanel @lurkingsparrow @faithalsip09 @cwallace02sblog @animaloversammy @peachiesnsilk @libbyaller @juiceboxfullofslime @libra-2409

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Star-Crossed Lovers Of District 12 (Part 1)

Prologue

Summary: Y/N returns to district 13 with the rebel who claims to be her husband. All hell breaks loose. SoTR Spoilers!

Haymitch Abernathy x Wife!Reader

Y/N wakes to the lights of the hovercraft, she’s upright, resting against something soft. Fingers card her hair, muttering against her ear, though she can’t make out the words. Her head throbs, she needs her medicine. She can’t get her medicine, because they took her. The rebels.

She pushes against the gentle hands that restrain her. He’ll kill her…unless…

“It’s alright.” The man clears his throat, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your husband. You remember me telling you that, don’t you?” He’s still attempting to assess the damage.

“I remember you telling me that, but you could tell me anything, you’re a rebel.”

“And who are you?” He challenges.

“Well, I’m the victor of the sixtieth hunger games.” Y/N says, “I’ve lived in the Capitol ever since, designing clothing and-” oh no. There’s a hole there. A detail missing. The doctors warned her not to lose herself searching for it, brings on the headaches tenfold.

The man grabs her skull, turning her head from one side to the other. Tugging at her ears as he peers down the canal toward her eardrum.

“What the hell are you doing? Stop!” Y/N pushes away from him.

His eyes are stern, mouth set in a scowl as he pulls her back into his lap, on the floor of the hovercraft. “Is there something in your ear?”

“I don’t think so,” Y/N shakes her head. “Even if there was, I’m sure all the yanking shook it loose.” She massages the tender shell of her ear.

“Sorry,” he grimaces. “So uh, how long had you been down there? In the tribute center?”

“Since the Quarter Quell, I think.” The rebels blew up the arena and took a bunch of tributes, to do God knows what to.

The man nods, “that’s actually impossible.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t in the Quarter Quell.”

“I’m the only living victor from district twelve, of course I was.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he huffs a laugh, “you’re one of four, angel. You didn’t go to the Quarter Quell because Katniss took your place.”

“Katniss?” Who’s Katniss and, “why would she do that?”

“Because you were-”

“Was I sick?” Y/N looks to him with renewed interest. This must be it. The hole, the gap between what she remembers and the memories she lost in the explosion caused by the rebels.

The man opens and closes his mouth, gaping at her.

It is not uncommon for our minds to try and fill in the blanks. We see this often in patients with head trauma.

“Please, I need to know.”

“That’s enough for now, we’re landing.” A second rebel reveals himself. Dressed in all black like his counterpart.

“Boggs, do you think you could keep an eye on her? I have to go tell-”

“You can’t just leave me,” Y/N protests. “I mean, you’re my husband. Alleged, but still. Don’t leave me to the wolves.”

The man exhales, “think of all the trouble I went to, to get you here. You really think I’m gonna leave you somewhere it isn’t safe?”

Her eyes search his, who are you?

“My name is Haymitch, down here, they refer to me as Soldier Abernathy. They’ll probably call you the same until we get this sorted. If you need me, have someone from your med team page me.”

Haymitch. The name feels familiar to her, as though she called for him often, in another life. Y/N blinks at him, “down where?” The hovercraft jostles, taking its place on the landing pad.

“Welcome back to district thirteen.”

The underground lights are disorienting at first, Y/N steps off the hovercraft, hoping to get her bearings. She has about ten seconds before her vision is clouded by a tuft of dark brown hair.

“Y/N.”

There’s a girl in her arms, nearly as tall as her, not her sister, Madge. Or anyone she would recognize at a glance. Y/N brushes the wayward locks from her face.

“I thought you were dead.” The girl says, tightening her hold.

Is it you? Y/N wonders, do you fill the holes?

“Katniss,” Haymitch interrupts, putting some distance between them. “She isn’t herself.”

“What do you mean?” The girl, Katniss, holds Y/N at arms length to examine her.

“She doesn’t remember who you are.”

Y/N is equally devastated at the look on her face. “You’re the rebel girl, the mockingjay.” Katniss! “The boy used to scream for you.”

“Peeta?” Her voice breaks over his name. “Is Peeta here?”

“We had one medic on standby, they’re working on him now. Making sure he’s stable to transfer down to the hospital.”

“I need to see him,” Katniss insists, breaking away from Y/N and Haymitch to rush up the loading ramp.

Something collides with Y/N’s back, again with the hugging. For a bunch of blood thirsty lunatics, they sure don’t seem to be in any rush to take her out.

“Mom!”

“Mom?” Y/N grips the little hand around her waist. There is another just beneath it, belonging to a younger child.

“Mommy.” A second voice says.

“I’m mom?” Y/N mouths to Haymitch, who stares back at her in horror. This must be who he’d needed to warn about her…condition.

Finally the man nods. Hoping beyond hope that the woman before him won’t shuck them off.

Y/N pats at the arms, slowly turning to face them. “And you’re dad.” Her laughter verges on hysteria. The boy is his, through and through.

Haymitch comes around to the opposite side, standing with a hand on each child’s shoulder. “Alright you two, mom needs to get check out by the doctors.”

“Are you ok, mommy?” The little girl, wearing her face, asks.

Did they make you from my DNA? Grow you in a lab? “Yes I’m…ok.” Y/N lies. “I just have a headache.”

Haymitch’s tiny clone releases her first. “Come on, Arista. Let’s go find, Aunt Madge.”

Madge? “You have my sister here?”

“Where else would they have me?” Madge smiles, rounding the corner with an infant in her arms.

“You had a baby?”

“What?” Madge peers down at the child in question, “no. She’s yours.”

Y/N’s knees buckle, “oh no.” Her vision spotty, tunneling into darkness, “mommy’s gonna pass out now.” Grown in a lab or not, she doesn’t want to crush these children.

————————————————————————-

She startles awake to the familiar beep of bedside monitors. Am I home? Back in the Capitol? What happened to the rebels? What happened to- “Haymitch?”

“I’m here,” his chair screeches against the floor as he springs to his feet, rushing to her side. “I’m right here.” Haymitch’s hands are carding her hair again, staring down at her with the softest look in his eyes.

Oh, you poor man. “I’m sorry, I still don’t remember anything.”

Haymitch shakes his head, “that’s ok.”

“No I-“

“If nothing else, you know that I’m not gonna kill you now.” Haymitch hushes her, “it’s important to build a foundation of trust.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Y/N wonders.

“That’s what I’d like to do.”

“Ok, well…ok.” If he’s not going to kill me, this may be my best chance at freedom.

“And I want to say thank you for what you did yesterday, with the kids.” Haymitch clears his throat, “that must’ve been a lot for you.”

“I’ve been out for a day?”

A slight bob of his head confirms it. “They were able to run most of their tests.”

“Where do they think I am? The clones.”

“Our children?” Haymitch chuckles, “they think you’re having tests run.”

“Good.”

“We had them the old fashioned way, just so you know. No cloning or laboratory needed.”

Y/N nods.

“Aren’t you gonna bite my head off and call me a lying rebel?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “I am incredibly attracted to you, Mr. Rebel. And of all the things you’ve told me in the past twenty-four hours, I find that the most believable.”

“Good thing you didn’t lose your sense of humor.” Haymitch retorts, “that’d be a deal breaker.”

“You said um-” damn you, stop looking at me like that. “They ran tests?”

“Yeah, I asked the doctor to come back once you woke up to discuss the results. I’ll go see if I can flag down one of the nurses.”

“Thank you, Haymitch.” Y/N tries to relax into the pillows, but her head is pounding something awful.

When the door opens again, it is Haymitch who asks, “can you give her something for the pain?”

“Of course,” the doctor smiles, filling a syringe and injecting it into Y/N’s IV port.

Relief is near instant, allowing her to focus as the team of doctors and nurses fill the room.

“Upon reviewing your scans, there is clear swelling along the anterior lining of the brain. Indicative of a severe head injury.”

“Will it heal?”

“In time, yes.”

“Given the extent of the injury and the progress she’s already made… we have reason to believe that Y/N may have spent a month or more in a medically induced coma; attempting to speed up her recovery.”

“Why?”

Johanna stumbles into the room, crossing both arms over her chest. “Because she did it to herself.”

“What?” Haymitch blanches.

“Snow wanted to use her to get to you but,” Johanna lets out a low whistle, “she bashed her pretty head against the table, until it was lights out. Best he could do after that was subliminal messages and of course tossing in a few of your propos. God, that stupid voice would play on a loop all day and night.”

‘My name is Y/N Undersee. I’m the only living victor from district twelve. I live in the Capitol, designing clothing, I am very happy here. The rebels are after me. The rebels destroy everything that is good. The rebels are coming to kill me.’

‘My name is Y/N Undersee. I’m the only living victor from district twelve. I live in the Capitol, designing clothing, I am very happy here. The rebels are after me. The rebels destroy everything that is good. The rebels are coming to kill me.’

“I’d probably believe you were there to kill me too,” Johanna admits.

Part 2

[andrewwtca]

on Sephiroth's manipulation of Cloud (an analysis)

— Rebirth + OG FF7 spoilers

how Rebirth tackled puppet Cloud is so unique and so so good, and I just needed to talk about it. first things first, let’s talk about what Sephiroth means by ‘puppet.’

throughout the OG FF7 and Rebirth, Sephiroth refers to Cloud as a ‘puppet.’ it may seem strange at first glance, because it seems to imply that Sephiroth is manually taking control of Cloud, puppeteering him or that Cloud is inherently empty.

it also doesn’t fit with his encouragement of Cloud’s rage. if Cloud is a puppet, why doesn’t Sephiroth just give him rage?

because that’s not what he means. when Sephiroth calls Cloud a puppet, he means that Cloud’s mind can easily be shaped, similar to how a puppet’s identity is dependent on its master. he says that what Cloud feels is fake because Cloud’s mind is a collage of identities, his own and Zack’s, all with Jenova’s and Sephiroth’s influence. Cloud’s feelings are just his master’s feelings.

Cloud’s mind is malleable. he is his own person, the real Cloud Strife is there, but due to the self-esteem issues he’s harbored since childhood and the trauma he’s endured for the past five years, the presenting Cloud Strife can greatly differ. Sephiroth is intensely aware of this, and takes advantage of it.

the persona we see of Cloud is his SOLDIER persona, the tough badass he always wanted to be, a mixture of his interpretation of Zack and his interpretation of being a hero. but the facade cracks quickly and frequently, in either direction. mostly, it cracks to let us see the real Cloud. there’s no one single moment where he shines through: Cloud taking on odd jobs with no real gain other than him helping someone, Cloud doing something stupid and silly, Cloud getting flustered. all the moments of him being kind and dorky is the real Cloud shining through. it’s impossible for Cloud to bury all of himself beneath his persona, so these cracks are only natural. however, the other cracks in his persona are due to Sephiroth’s manipulation.

in Rebirth, Cloud kills multiple people on multiple occasions—one can argue because they were Shinra, they deserved it, but that doesn’t change the fact that Cloud isn’t a killer. even his SOLDIER persona accommodates his desire to help people; so how does he kill people so easily? if you answered Sephiroth, you get a prize!

Sephiroth manipulates his SOLDIER persona in two ways: feeding into ideals and planting ideas. for the first, he (off-screen) encourages violent and/or anti-social behavior in Cloud. while we, the player, and everyone around him views this as strange, in Cloud’s mind, it all fits into what he’s supposed to be. he’s supposed to be a badass, and badasses kill people and dismiss their friends’ feelings, right?

when Cloud is in this mental state, it’s very hard to reason with him. in Chapter 13 (one of the greatest pieces of puppet Cloud literature), Cloud’s entire goal is to reach the center of the Temple in order to acquire the Black Materia. he doesn’t listen to any warnings that the Cetra give or his teammates, becoming wholly focused on retrieving it. but even then, even if Cloud’s behavior doesn’t seem strange to him, why does he want the Black Materia?

that’s due to Sephiroth’s other form of manipulation: planting ideas. it’s easy to force Cloud to become violent because it fits the narrative of badass SOLDIER, but lots of other ideas need time to nourish. case-in-point: Tifa isn’t the real one.

we are introduced to this idea at the very beginning of the game, Cloud walking through the inn at Kalm when he sees Sephiroth who tells him that this Tifa isn’t the real one. the conflict seems to become resolved when Cloud repeats the idea to Tifa who completely dismisses it, but they’re nowhere out of the woods.

next, Sephiroth in Chapter 5 instills the idea that Jenova is capable of impersonation. this doesn’t seem to go anywhere until Chapter 9.

first, Cloud enters that intensified SOLDIER state-of-mind, killing all the Shinra troopers around him. with his mind already fragile, Sephiroth repeating the idea to him now becomes fact: Tifa isn’t real. she is an imposter from Jenova. both the ideas Cloud’s been fed are twisted and he pushes Tifa off the edge.

Cloud snaps out of this state of mind right after, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened. as long as Sephiroth plays his cards right, he can manipulate Cloud into doing nearly everything for him. hence, the ‘puppet’ label.

(that’s also why Cloud wants the Black Materia. Sephiroth tells Cloud to bring him the Black Materia—and even if Cloud doesn’t want to, the thought is engraved in his head that he should retrieve it for Sephiroth.)

but here’s what’s really special. as we’ve noted, the intensified SOLDIER persona is violent, anti-social, just an all around dick. he doesn’t care about his friends, doesn’t care about anything except getting what he wants (see: what Sephiroth wants.)

but we see something very different at the end of Chapter 13. Cloud isn’t rude and dismissive. he pushes Tifa, but he doesn't do it with the same malice as in Chapter 9. he does it in an attempt just to get her away, just to chase after the Black Materia.

in his pursuit of Aerith, the things he says are the farthest thing from rude. he’s not threatening or demanding her to stop. he’s asking her to talk, appealing to her desire to trust him and save the planet, even starts calling her name in a teasing way like he’s playing a game.

Aerith! Let's talk. I need it... Aerith... Give it to me. Please? You can trust me. Let's save the planet together. (playfully) Aerith.

when Aerith finally gives him the Black Materia, what does Cloud do? he could just walk away. he could just run straight to Sephiroth. but, no—he makes sure to say “thank you” first.

it’s pathetic (I type this in the most endearing way) the way Cloud acts. why is that? what is the difference between these types of manipulation? the answer is who Sephiroth manipulates. for the most part, Sephiroth manipulates SOLDIER Cloud. but here, Sephiroth breaks through Cloud’s SOLDIER persona to manipulate the real Cloud.

we know when we see the real Cloud: if you need a refresher, anytime Cloud is kind or acts like a dork is usually a tell-tale sign. here, Cloud is kind, saying please and thank you. and it’s almost cute, the way he playfully calls out to Aerith. this is the real Cloud, buried under piles of piles of trauma, self-hatred, and alternative personas.

and what is the real Cloud’s utmost desire? to love and be loved. he wants to be a hero, to be worthy of the ones he holds dear; no, to be worthy of anyone. this is a big factor into Cloud’s construction of his SOLDIER persona, he creates himself that hero mask that he thinks will lead to the love he craves.

Sephiroth knows this, and twists his desire to be a hero to a desire to please Sephiroth at all costs. Cloud is still himself, but he wants to make Sephiroth happy no matter what. Sephiroth wants the Black Materia? then Sephiroth will get the Black Materia.

that’s what’s so heartbreaking (and deliciously good) about Rebirth’s depiction of puppet Cloud. he’s not hollow and empty. he’s desperate. this is the most of the real Cloud we get to see. we see fragments of him, but here is the longest consecutive period. this is the realest he acts in the game, kind and silly and so fucking desperate for love, for Sephiroth’s approval.

in short, Sephiroth knows exactly how and when to break Cloud. he knows how and when to manipulate SOLDIER Cloud and he knows how and when to manipulate the real Cloud. this is why Sephiroth calls him a puppet: as long as he plays to Cloud’s desire for approval and love, he can puppeteer him in every direction.

thank you for reading! I hope you learned something new or just understand Cloud better. Cloud is such a fascinating character and Sephiroth really brings out the most pathetic parts of him ❤️ here's to hoping Cloud gets all the love he wants

[luvsophen]

The romanced Inquisitor and the Redeem ending (Veilguard spoilers)

I often see misunderstandings and critical comments, especially on Reddit, about the role of the Inquisitor in the redemption ending. I want to explain how I see it from a narrative designer's perspective. I'll approach the topic from a broader angle, so I ask for your patience and understanding. Long read.

To understand the ending and why the Inquisitor is written the way they are, we need to revisit Solas's motivation and psychology as presented in the game. Even in “Inquisition”, it’s clear that Solas clings to the past as if it were the ultimate truth. He asks the Inquisitor to prove him wrong, but that idea feels doomed from the start. Just as I thought ten years ago, I still believe that his primary motivation isn’t solely about his people but rather a deeply complex internal crisis. Solas is a complex and layered character, and his motivation should reflect that complexity according to all the rules of storytelling. It’s incredibly unfortunate that the story arc involving the rebellion and the spirits was cut, as this truly simplified his character and didn’t give players a chance to ponder his beliefs more deeply. But we know that this motivation exists in the background and is alive. We only hear about his motivation related to his people, that is, the spirits, in the final choice with Rook. Naturally, the fact that Bioware put his personal regrets and trauma front and center is psychologically accurate, but the player should have come to this conclusion on their own, discovering it themselves. It’s too obvious, but such are the modern trends in storytelling.

Now, regarding Lavellan. The ending with a romanced Inquisitor suffers from the same issues as the rest of the game — lack of variety and exclusive choices.

I see that some people are disappointed with the ending because the Inquisitor's love and pleas were not enough. I assure you, it was never intended to make it enough. If the Inquisitor’s love/friendship had been enough, Solas's story in “DAtV” wouldn’t have even begun. Solas is as immersed in his past as any millennia-old being could be, leaving no room for anything but his burden, guilt, and despair. Left to his own devices, he will always choose the path of least resistance to his trauma, repeating his mistakes in what he believes is for the greater good until he reaches the point of ultimate self-destruction. He is truly a broken man because of all the terrible things he has done and the horrors he has endured.

The point of the storyline was to showcase the depth of his regrets, the weight of his burden and moral downfall. The Inquisitor (friend/lover) affected him in a way that no mortal ever could. Solas runs from them, and there are objective psychological reasons for this beyond simply not wanting to hurt someone he cares about. Lavellan isn’t wrong when she says she could influence Solas. Yes, if they had years and time for such conversations, but that opportunity doesn’t exist. He doesn't leave her a choice and decides for both of them.

The logic of the ending is that you need to peel back Solas's “layers”. In the finale, Solas is deeply wounded and exhausted, and it’s the perfect moment to play on his emotions while he’s so vulnerable. From a dramaturgical perspective, the focus was correctly placed: the present, future, and past must come together to lift the burden from his shoulders, show him a new path, restore his wisdom, and give him a new purpose. This is how the writers envision his salvation without killing him or distorting his spirit.

Rook represents the present — the modern world and its people. And the modern world asks Solas for mercy, pleading with him not to destroy their lives even more, reminding him that more violence won’t make “the flowers” bloom as Solas wishes. Rook delivers the first logical blow: “Who benefits from tearing down the Veil —you or all of us? You’re lying to yourself and drowning in regrets”. Solas knows this, but knowing and accepting are different things for the psyche. That’s why Rook, as a representative of the world Solas aims to destroy for the “greater good”, steps forward first, asking him to reconsider his true motivations. And Solas does ponder. By this point, he’s already filled with doubts, born long ago, but he’s still not ready to make another choice. The massive burden of the past and a graveyard of sacrifices remain on his shoulders. Solas rejects Rook, rejects the desires and opinions of the present, the modern world, just as he always has. As he must. For now.

Then the Inquisitor steps onto the stage. Whether a friend or a lover, the Inquisitor was the first to show Solas during their time together that he was wrong, cracking his convictions. This is especially clear in the letter to his beloved Lavellan.

Look at how he acts in this scene. How he freezes upon seeing the Inquisitor, how he lowers his head and dagger, the sadness and regret on his face, the tears welling up. In Lavellan’s case, he exhales painfully: “Vhenan”. After all these years of separation and his betrayals — “My love, my heart”. For me it was a emotional moment of vulnerability.

The Inquisitor is here to give Solas two things: forgiveness, which Solas cannot grant himself, and a reminder of who he is, who he dreamed of being, offering him a choice for the future. But even these gifts may not be enough for Solas because a person trapped in the past and overwhelming regrets, committed to self-destruction and mass deaths, sees no reason to choose a different future.

He has lost all hope for it. He believes he deserves neither happiness, love, nor forgiveness. And when Lavellan says she forgives him, Solas doesn’t understand why. What’s the point of forgiveness after all he’s done? Look at his face in that scene. He can’t forgive himself. He tries to prove to himself that he doesn’t deserve forgiveness: “I lied, I betrayed you”. The contrast with his self-justifications in “Trespasser” is stark. And yet, she forgives him. It means a tremendous amount to him, and he turns away from this gift in disbelief. It will take years before he truly forgives himself.

This scene is meant to show how deeply he’s sunk into his past, into his own darkness, unable to step back even for the sake of his beloved or a friend, for another path and future. He’s filled with self-justifications.

Solas explains why Lavellan’ forgiveness isn’t enough: “And then I... and then she died for nothing”. No, not because “she/Mythal” died for nothing. Everything he’s been through, everything he’s done to the world—everything—was for nothing if he keeps the Veil. And how can he live with that? All the suffering must be justified. His millennia of fears, pain, and guilt—these are stronger than his feelings for the Inquisitor. This is realistically portrayed, even if it hurts his beloved, even if it hurts you as a player. He can’t release himself from his burden and guilt. He’s come up with a thousand justifications. You hear this throughout the game from Mythal, Ghilan'nain, Morrigan, and so on. Solas is an unreliable narrator.

The present, the future, the past. Mythal is the catalyst for everything. That’s why she has to deliver the final blow, and she breaks him. For the last time. I won’t touch on the ethics of this moment. His entire tragedy began with her; his downfall started with her. He ties all his burdens to her. She embodies all his past and all his pain. Through her more benevolent version in Morrigan, Mythal shares the burden of their joint crimes with him. She doesn’t apologize or express remorse to him but directly destroys his last justification—that it was all for her. She no longer needs it. He is free. The world has suffered for too long, Solas has suffered for too long. It is time to stop. And in the finale, there’s no time for him to create another reason to justify his “delusions” and mass deaths.

Solas no longer has the strength to fight himself, and he agrees to stop. His past, present, and future simultaneously redefine his purpose. Now he has a new goal. This suits him as a spirit bound to serve his purpose. But he can't forgive himself and that's logical. The romanced Inquisitor is here to demonstrate for him immense wisdom and generosity by mortal standards, a deep understanding of Solas's spirit, and the strength of her love for him. It should break through any rational defense of his psyche. He is seen, heard, forgiven, given hope and purpose, his fear of being alone is shattered, and he is loved so deeply that he can hardly believe it. These are all the needs and desires of Solas that we have learned about from the two games. He desperately needed it and Weekes gives it to him with the help of the Inquisitor, his beloved. This is intentional. Solas is so disoriented and broken that he can't say anything to her except to give her a choice, one last chance to turn away from him, because he himself will no longer turn away from her.

Narratively, the Inquisitor, friend or lover, represents a bridge between Solas’s past and future: a factual happy future and a new purpose if you are his lover and leave with him; or you grant him a new purpose, reminding him of who he is, if you do not leave with him or are his friend. Solas faces dangerous work both on himself and on the Blight; this is not a respite.

The Inquisitor, however, will never be freed from their religious and mythical role. This character will always be tied to that role in the story.

Lavellan here embodies almost a religious myth about the great power of love that surpasses all contradictions, a bond stronger than rational reasons. It’s pointless to rationalize, and you won’t find solace in that process — their relationship is meant to be a deeply emotional romance with an irrational, mystical and mythical connection between two lovers.

Lavellan performs a strictly narrative function here, but out of respect for those players who cannot associate themselves with such an Inquisitor, there should technically have been an option to not go with him into the Fade right in that scene, instead of at the tavern.

Narratively, the writers are concluding the arc involving the story of the Evanuris, Solas, the Blight, and the Veil. Above all, the writers focused more on this overarching narrative than on how to incorporate the player's various choices into the plot. Therefore, the canonical character of the Inquisitor takes precedence here — that's how the writers envision this character.

Canonically, The Inquisitor like the HoF, is a hero with a specific, grand purpose in the plot. This is a character who brings order to a world on the brink of madness. They think on a global scale and resolve global conflicts. They don’t create problems, they solve them. The same approach is shown with Solas. He is both a global and personal problem for Lavellan. Solas forces the Inquisitor (any of them) to endure a lot of pain and unpleasantness, turning their life upside down.

Lavellan’s resentments, wounded pride, and sorrow may later be expressed or dealt with differently, but right now, the fate of not only Solas but the world is being decided (quarrels will not help anyone solve the task on a global scale; Lavellan will not be petty, nor will she be too proud, just as she won't think of herself first when faced with the world's fate; she will only think about it once the world is no longer in danger). Lavellan cannot convince Solas, but will keep trying with the influence she has.

Personally, I believe that this type of love (type of the lover) is exactly what Solas needs for his personal growth.

The Inquisitor offers him forgiveness and understanding because that is their role here — to be above it, to be wiser than Solas, to show more mercy, patience, and understanding toward others’ nature and spirit than Solas ever did toward the modern world and mortals. And this is especially valuable for the narrative. Mortals (Rook, the Inquisitor, Morrigan) give Solas what he couldn’t get in the past: the freedom to be himself, and salvation and/or love. This idea is even repeated in the game’s cut files.

According to interviews, Bioware wanted to level the playing field so that any player with any world state/choices could choose the redemption ending — I'm not a fan of this decision from the perspective of character development, but after all, this is a game, not a book story.

I’m not too critical of the Solavellan ending, even though I’m not a Solasmancer; I just like him as an antagonist and a character. I don't find the ending with his solo redemption psychologically credible. I'm sorry they didn't add at least Cole to the game to help him on this painful journey.

In my opinion, Solavellan ending is the best thing that happened in the game for Solas (and in his whole life). At least somewhere, he was given happiness and something he didn’t even dare to hope for.

The game itself is a big disappointment in terms of narrative, but I don’t want to criticize Bioware too much without knowing the reasons why it turned out this way. And for this reason, you should try to look beyond the execution and focus on the content and context of the story to understand the writer’s intent.

Thank you for reading to the end!

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars Of Duty 4

MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.

~ 8,3k Words

Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood

A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.

It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.

Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?

You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.

Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?

You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.

Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.

You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.

You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.

You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.

Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.

You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.

Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?

Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.

Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.

Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.

It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.

Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.

For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.

Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.

But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.

The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.

No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.

It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.

It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.

A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.

You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.

There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.

You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.

Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.

Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.

You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.

When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.

Aggressive Hybrids are usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.

You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.

You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.

A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.

His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.

He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.

Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.

“STOP!”

Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.

Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.

The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.

“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.

“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.

“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”

He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.

“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.

Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.

Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.

He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.

You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.

“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”

He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.

“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”

You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.

It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.

“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.

You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.

You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.

With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.

While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.

But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.

As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.

He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.

The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.

The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.

They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.

The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.

You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.

The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.

You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.

His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.

Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.

Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.

A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.

For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.

Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.

After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.

The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.

You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.

Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.

How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.

You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.

You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.

But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.

You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.

Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.

You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.

Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.

You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.

“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”

Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.

“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.

She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”

You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”

You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”

Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”

“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”

“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.

“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”

Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”

You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”

She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”

You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”

Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”

You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.

That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.

“Oh good. I was looking for you.”

You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?

“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.

The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.

She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.

She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”

You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.

She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”

Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?

“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.

She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?

“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.

She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”

You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.

Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.

You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…

“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”

She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.

“He already signed.”

You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.

“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.

They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?

Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”

You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.

“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.

“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.

Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”

Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.

“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.

Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.

She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”

That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”

Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”

You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.

“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.

The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.

At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.

You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.

Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.

It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.

The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.

You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.

When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.

“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.

He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”

That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.

“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?

You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”

You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.

Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.

“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”

Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”

Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.

“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”

“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.

He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.

His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.

“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “

Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.

“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.

You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.

On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.

You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.

“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.

“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”

You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”

You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”

He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”

You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”

You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”

He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.

“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”

Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.

“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”

The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”

“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”

Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.

Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.

The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.

Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.

“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.

“It will be fine.”

Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.

The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.

His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.

Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.

“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.

You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.

Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.

“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.

His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.

Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.

For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.

[fallen-gravity]

some thoughts on the moana 2 novelization, as threatened promised <3 under a readmore for spoilers and also because I don't trust myself to keep it short

(friendly reminder that I do not ship Maui and Moana! you can rb, but don't be weird about it)

Genuinely right off the bat I can't get over how loving Moana is described to be? She just loves others so much. She always describes Pua and HeiHei as her friends rather than her pets because of how much she cares about them!! it's so stupid cute that not only does she refer to Pua as her "loyal, adorable friend", but it's also implied that she handmade the little satchel he likes to ride in just for him. It eats me up inside!! She cares so much!!

The center island she's looking for is spelled as Motufetū!! I always love getting confirmation for these things, it makes things so much easier as a fic writer.

One of the souveniers she takes back with her alongside the broken pottery is a "massive clam". hello???? foreshadowing??? did everyone know about the giant clam guardian??

"For a man who had once forbidden her from going beyond the reef, he now spent quite a lot of time beyond it himself." AUUWHAAHHH THAT LINE KILLED ME WE LOVE TO SEE GROWTH FROM TRAUMA

"He loved her enthusiasm, but she seemed overexcited, and she was still his daughter, and he wanted to take care of her" MOANA!!! IS!!! SO LOVED!!!!

Loto's tool is called an adze! also she's apparently only 17?? two years younger than Moana?? not at all what I would've pegged her as, honestly

The storytelling tapestries are called siapos!!! more terminology!!!

"Her eyes darted to the image of Maui carved into the wall. She hadn't seen him since her return to Motunui, and she missed him. Not that she would admit it out loud" STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU

"Humans, were in fact, why he was here now, in this unknown realm of the gods looking at the pinkish white ball in front of him. At least, he thought that might be why he's here. These missions to benefit humans didn't always come with clear instructions" immediately followed by thinking about the trip to Te Fiti with Moana. What a dumbass <3 "I'm doing it for them and I don't know why? totally unrelated note haha that trip to Te Fiti with Moana was fun :)"

Never saw any of that journey coming, never could brute force his way through it, worth every second. Only considers getting the hook back as an afterthougt, ougghhhhhhh

Homeboy sucks at pretending that he doesn't care about Moana. He's talking to Matangi for all of two seconds and he's all "I'm a changed person! For um. no particular reason! It was definitely because of the thousand year isolation and nothing else whatsoever!"

There's no finite explanation for why Maui's there, but he credits Moana for making him a better person for being the reason. Something about breaking the curse? It's never made clear, even in the book.

Mini Maui selling him out for bullshitting about hating Moana is even funnier in the book, like Maui goes "yeah lol that girl was just a tool I uused to get my hook back" and Mini Maui starts pounding on him. Homeboy Moana can't even hear you and you're still mad at Maui for bullshitting, it kills me. Maui tries shooting him down. "Mini Maui wasn't convinced" has me in stitches

Maui's internal dialogue shifting to "oh wait, yeah, I wanted to surprise her with a visit. Oops." while he's tied up also has me in stitches. ffs, maui, get your priorities straight

"He refused to let Moana be hurt or threatened" I am on the floor

Every time Tui calls Moana "my dear" it adds ten years to my lifespan

The siapo of Maui in the storytelling fale is so lifelike that "it's as if he were about to jump off the fabric at any moment and start teasing her." that's so stupid cute!!!! also so stupid sad that she probably talks to it a lot hoping that it'll work someday. ough.

"Maui was having a bad day. Actually, he was having a lot of bad days"." feels like it was pulled right from a fic I would've written in 2018, I'm screaming

"I don't need her to save me...again" swallowing the earth as we speak

Curly still being the default nickname is also taking me out I need to be given financial compensation asap

There's a parallel that got lost in translation from page to movie, there's the bit where Moana's like "I'm sure Maui's off doing important demigod stuff, wherever he is", but there's also a bit of internal monologue where Maui's like "I hope Moana's faring better than I am, wherever she is" I'm gonna conk their heads together y'all need to communicate

The book directly mentions Moana and her crew passing Te Fiti. Did I miss that from the movie? Did they show Te Fiti, or is this a book-exclusive detail?

Their little Kakamora buddy has a name!! Kotu we don't deserve you. Also he's the Chief Kakamora's son! I just thought he was second in command. That's a whole baby

Maui knows who Pua is, somehow! He sees Pua waddling around and his first thought is "okay, this is weird, why do these people have Moana's pig with them?". Doesn't even remotely click that she could be with them. He's actually about to leave until HeiHei shows face and boy is he absolutely mortified. It eats me up inside. Instant shift of "goodbyeeeeee random humans I don't liiiike!!!" to oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, where is she????

Incredibly suspicious that Moana is the human that has all the gods talking. Something too about Maui having to force himself not to care about her. Did someone do a little too much bragging about his favorite human?

"I thought you'd be...more." okay a) I def think Maui's been overhyping her and b) haha More callback we love to see it

Also, Matangi's just a demigoddess! Not a goddess at all. interesting, interesting, interesting

Moana also sucks at priorities, one single mention of Maui and she instantly shifts to oh, oh my god, is he here? is he nearby? where is he?

Moana recognizes the Portal of the Gods as similar to the entrance to Lalotai...does that mean Lalotai is connected to the Realm of the Gods, in some way? are they the same place under a different name? also all :') that the dance she does to open the portal is specifically meant to be a copy of the haka that Maui did in the first movie.

You know, I think you need her just as much as she needs you. WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???? YOU NEED EACH OTHER??? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW?? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW????

The first thing Moana does when she's back on her canoe is look for Maui because she thinks he's gone 🥹 wants to go back and look for him until she realizes he's the reason she's dangling in the air. Did he stop her from falling off the canoe? ough, I'm deceased

I can't get over Moana assuming he just wants to catch up, they are both such chronic babblers.

"His expression was both happy and annoyed." I'm losing my shit.

"But yeah, it is good to see you again" 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹.

"The fire in the sky lead us to you" can we stop with the written in the stars stuff. can we stop. my poor heart can't take it. platonic soulmates fr. "maybe we're supposed to do this together." THE GODS KNOW!!!! THEY KNOW!!!

"Maui bit back a smile." kill me. kill me. i'm dead on the spot. kill me.

Ohhhhh, I always love seeing what they do in place of the songs and the replacement for "Can I Get a Chee-Hoo?" kills me most of all, I think. Maui still goes to sit with her, but when Moana starts talking about all the people she's gonna let down, he comes to a screeching halt when she mentions Simea.

"If anyone should be upset, it should be me. Since when do you have a sister?"

"You would've met her, if you ever came to visit me." OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!!! She's trying to tease him but there's a tinge of hurt in her voice, like she feels like he doesn't care enough about her to take the time for her!! You need her as much as she needs you!!!!!

"Three years is a blip to me, princess," says the liar who thought about her on a near-daily basis!!!!

"Empathy wasn't Maui's strong suit. But he seemed to be trying- for her. and that dulled the pain a little" i am in my grave. i am in my grave.

"Why are you even here?" -> "Because...because I've been low before, and I couldn't see my path. And someone came along who I underestimated and she lifted me up. Someone I don't want to underestimate herself right now." THROWING UP!!!!!

"Wow, you're the worst at this." -> "Maui pretended to look offended" conking their heads together as we speak they are so SWEET!!!!!

Maui giving her all the credit for being the one to defeat Nalo!!! not himself!!!! her!!!!!!!

"Maui said he was better for knowing her. That had to count for something" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

It still destroys me that Maui's entire priority is keeping Moana safe!!! He's not just diving in to fight, he keeps going back to make sure they're all safe!!! that's all that matters to him!!!

God their little exchanges are so stupid they're killing me. "Nalo doesn't care about you!" "Yes he does! I'm Maui!!" "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!" dumbasses <3

oooh he really doesn't want to separate, his eyes keep going back and forth between Moana and the monster storm :')

Okay. okay. okay. listen. there's a lot more to Maui's goodbye in the book than in the movie. In the book it's an apology. It's a rushed explanation on why he hadn't gone back to visit her prior. He lied about not having the time for her. All his time has been about and for her.

The reason I didn't visit...was 'cause you made me want to be better. You deserve the whole ocean...I wanted you to have it. Watch yourself out there. I could pull up millions of islands, but if you're not there to land on them, what's the point?

FOR!!!! HER!!!!! EVERYTHING!!!! IS!!!!! FOR!!!!! HER!!!!!

He hated leaving Moana and her crew behind,

He trusted her.

God, coud you imagine? First movie Maui, getting his hook destroyed? Those three words hold more power than anything. He trusted her. If anyone can do this it's her. He trusts her. He trusts her.

His thoughts kept drifting back to Moana. Nothing else matters!!! He could be all full of himself and think about how heroic he's being for The Humans (other) and all he's thinking about is his Favorite Human.

The thought of failing her pushed on him as the weight of the water grew heavy.

WHO WROTE THIS!!!! WHO READ OUR FANFICS!!!!! WHO KNEW!!!!!

His tattoos glowing with the power of the gods the first time he tries lifting Motufetū.....were there other gods that were helping him? are there gods who know?? Te Fiti if you're out there,,,,,,,,,

Moana rushing to protect Maui when lightning barely misses him the first time is.........destroying me?? taking me out??? imagine being protective over a demigod literally pulling an island out of the sea. imagine trying to take many hits for him. using her conch shell to call out to the storm to hit her instead? Maui yelling at her to Not do that? probably because it's breaking his own heart to watch?? ough.

"It went against every instinct, but Moana knew she had to listen to him." THAT'S ALSO GROWTH!!! KEEPING THEM BOTH SAFE BY NOT PUSHING HERSELF FROWARD!!!! GROWTH!!!!!

Maui getting hit by three strikes of lightning, and he uses what he thinks are his last dying moments to say goodbye to Moana. He locks eyes with her, gives her a sad smile, and yells Find your way, kid. Just to her. Just loud enough that she's the only one who can hear. and oh boy is this book brutal about that fourth and "fatal" lightning strike. It's strong enough to fry him. It launches him up so high in the air that Moana can't even see him

So, uh...fun fact! The reason Moana doesn't instantly dive in the water to go after him is because she thinks she's too late and that he's dead on impact. She doesn't even see him hit the water.

"Moana gasped as she felt her necklace pop open and her shell- Simea's shell- toppled out. Frantically,she reached for it, ignoring the danger around her. She couldn't lose that shell. She had already lost so much."

She thinks of everyone she loves when she's about to dive into the water and reach for Motufetū herself and Maui's among them right alongside her family. God. If there were ever a more indirect found family confirmation............

Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky and filtering through the water. Moana hoped that her crew was okay. That Maui had somehow survived. RIGHT!!! FROM!!!! THE FICS!!!! I SWEAR THIS IS PULLED RIGHT FROM THE OLD FICS!!!

His hook was missing, but he didn't care. He dove in after Moana. Hi, yes, 2018-era me is screaming out from inside me. She's clawing her way out of my chest. This is everything she's ever needed.

Fun fact part two! I don't remember how it was in the movie, but Maui watches Moana die too!! I think in the movie he just sees her still body on the surface of Motufetū, but in the book he dives under the water just a moment sooner and helplessly watches the lightning strike through her body. He watches her go still and sink towards the ocean floor :) Now they both have the trauma of watching each other die! :) :)

He tries desperately to catch her before she hits the floor but there are multiple instances of him being knocked back by a shockwave :') The gods sure have found his weakness!!!

He pushed through it. Nothing was stopping him from reaching Moana.

The grieving!!! The grieving is so fierce!!

Isn't it fun?? He practically has a burial ceremony for her! He catches her before her body hits the floor, and he places her gently on the surface of the island so she can fulfill her story! God! I'm unwell! He places Simea's little shell next to her body so Moana can be close to her sister one final time!

Then, kneeling next to her, he put his hand to his heart. It rested on the tattoo of Moana that had appeared after their last adventure. It had been his constant reminder in the three years since how strong a human could be. 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

It's just...he doesn't even realize the ocean is creating a dome around them! He's that grief-striken!!

The ocean knows them. It knows what they need. He calls it Moana's. Moana's ocean. aUGGHHHHHH.

Hey so all of that talk about Maui not allowing himself to let the gods know that Moana's his friend and then he's begging them. He's begging the gods and her (her? his? huamnity in general?) ancestors to save her because she deserves more than this. she deserves better. If any of the gods knew nothing of the two of them they sure as hell did now, ohhhhhh boy is that gonna screw him over later :')

So the book never explicitly states she's a demigoddess either! It very ominously states that She'll never be the same.

Moana gets to see her ancestors this time! I can't remember if she woke up before they disappeared in the movie, but when she wakes up her thought process goes wait, where am I? to oh, shit, MAUI?!?!? to TAUTAI VASA? TALA?? HELLO??? someone please invent therapy already she's gonna need it pretty desperately

god imagine if she thought maui was also dead?? she doesn't but ohhhh. ohhhhhh the angst potential of her thinking they're all there to see her off. god.

Shock and awe. That's all Moana can get out of Maui's expression when she catches him staring.

Mini Maui, the more accurate voice, is bawling his little eyes out when he sees that Moana's okay

Moana understands the implications instantly. and she knows that she's only alive now because Maui prayed for her

"Arching an eyebrow, she nodded over her shoulder. It was time they raised an island- togehter". SICK!!! TO!!! MY!!! STOMACH!!!

"She saw Maui, a familiar comfort in this uncharted territory" [AGGRESIVE TABLE SLAMMING] THAT'S FOUND FAMILY BAYBEEEEE

:') there's a big group hug with Moana's crew and Maui tries to wiggle his way to the center. That's almost shot for shot a scene from one of the first Moana fics I ever wrote back in December of 2017 :') turning into a little lizard and skittering into the center of the hug where Moana is because he wants a proper hug too :')

Okay so I definitely know for sure that when it says the villagers of Motunui are shocked Maui's there because they've heard so many stories about him that it's just the regular old legacy stories. but listen. let me be deluisional. it's because Moana always tells stories and Moana's like. known around the island as his best friend. so it's like!!! oh!!! there he is!!! Tautai Moana's best friend!!!! :')

He calls Simea Mini Moana!!!! weeping and sobbing

Simea's big brown eyes familiar. He Also calls Simea tugging on his ear Very Familiar. That's so stupid cute. I wonder if he ever visited when Moana was out voyaging and he ran into Simea if he'd be able to tell that she was her little sister? :') also hilarious because I'm sure it implies Moana told him Simea wanted to yell at him and he went "yeah okay that's fair"

(still lowkey sad Maui never gets included in the family hugs. Ohhhh if they ever found out what he did to save her they'd pull him straight in for sure)

MAUI STAYS!!! CONFIRMATION THAT HE STAYS!!!!

He stays long enough for things to calm down. He and Moana head out by themselves to help their little Kakamora buddy reunite with his family (cough cough)

Moana goes from "that kid" to his "dear friend." cherished. beloved. it's not even relelvant to the plot. He just smiles at her and goes "where to now?" and it's just. that's his dear friend!!! god!!!! so beloved!!! that feels like it holds even more weight than best friend!!!

god. god. I really gotta write a fic where they talk about watching each other die

good shit!!! gooood shit!!! I'm gonna be screaming about this forever. god.