#with any luck though i suppose extreme suffering may make her want to move my surgery date sooner

[msburgundy]

oh boy, the next couple months are going to be rough

[robininthelabyrinth]

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 4 -

Jiang Yanli wasn’t sure her parents had ever agreed on anything, ever, in her life, but they were in complete accord now that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were missing.

Admittedly, that was the only thing they agreed on – that they were missing, not dead, not dead – but it was a good start.

It had all started when that strange woman with the very ordinary face had arrived, she thought. It’d been late when she first arrived, after Jiang Yanli’s parents had stopped receiving audiences; they’d asked her to wait until morning and then got busy and didn’t receive her until nearly midday, even though the woman had been pacing around anxiously in the waiting hall. And then there was a whole lot of arguing before finally they sent out some disciples to go check –

The disciples returned, pale-faced, and reported on what they’d found: a pool with signs of swimming, a spilled but empty lunchbox, and the bodies of seven men, covered in cloaks to suggest an identity as rogue cultivators but wearing Wen sect insignia underneath.

No sign of Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng.

Everything had very quickly gone to shouting after that.

Jiang Yanli was worried, too, of course, but she was only thirteen and a poor cultivator besides, average in every respect – looks, skills, power – and no one ever listened to her; she knew she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t give orders to go search with a solemn expression that she’d never before seen on her father’s face, eyes filled with panic and shoulders bowed with premature grief, the worst result already expected even as he denied the possibility of it; she couldn’t stalk around with so much rage that it felt like the onset of a thunderstorm like her mother, making sure that everyone was doing everything they could. She could only wait patiently by the gate to see if anyone came back.

Maybe it was her patience paying off, or maybe it was just luck, but she was the first one to see the cultivator arrive, late into the night. It wasn’t very ceremonious – he didn’t announce himself or anything, just swooped down with his saber until it was close to the ground, released the bundles he was holding in his arms, took a step forward and then collapsed onto his knees, face pale.

“Da-ge!” four voices shouted, distressed, and two of them were extremely familiar.

Jiang Yanli jumped to her feet and rushed forward, still disbelieving but overwhelmingly joyous. “A-Cheng! A-Xian!”

“Jiejie!” “Shijie!” they shouted, and she was so happy to see them, so happy, but they didn’t seem anywhere near as worried as she’d been; instead, they started talking at the same time. “You have to get someone, he’s used up too much spiritual energy –” “I can’t believe he carried us that far, and back, and after such a long trip, too –” “And a fight! Maybe he got injured?” “Impossible! But we should get a doctor just in case –” “Yes, and soup – shijie, can you make some –”

“Enough,” the cultivator rasped, lifting his hands to his face and rubbing it. He looked exhausted. “Thank you for your concern, all of you. I will see Sect Leader Jiang first.”

“It won’t make for much of a talk if you fall over!” one of the children she didn’t recognize said – the younger one, about her brothers’ ages, face full of baby fat. “Meng-gege, you’re older, tell him –”

The remaining child was about her age, if she had to guess, although he was short and looked gentle.

“Nie-gongzi is right,” he murmured – his accent sounded more Yunmeng than Qinghe, even if the oversized outer layer he was wearing looked more like Qinghe Nie than anything else. It probably belonged to the cultivator that had brought him, judging from the size. “You will not be able to make your case if you are unconscious.”

“I’m fine,” the cultivator insisted, and staggered up to his feet. “There’s no time, there’s still Lanling –”

There was no way this cultivator was flying all the way to Lanling.

“My parents will see you,” she interrupted. “They’ll be very happy to see A-Cheng and A-Xian are all right.”

They were, too, and Jiang Yanli assumed that only pride kept them from running over to grab them into an embrace – Jiang Cheng did run to their mother, and Wei Wuxian followed close behind to go beam at her father – but they were very puzzled to see the cultivator.

“Sect Leader Nie?” Jiang Yanli’s father said, and Jiang Yanli blinked: was that who her brothers’ savior was? “What are you doing here?”

“I received information,” he said. “Regarding the Wen sect –”

“We heard something similar,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said shortly, and glared at her husband.

“Unfortunately, we initially disregarded the warning of our spy,” he admitted. “And then we found the Wen sect cultivators’ bodies…your doing, I take it?”

Sect Leader Nie looked embarrassed for a moment, but then squared his shoulders. “Yes,” he said. “I was flying in to speak with you when I saw the attack taking place, and intervened.”

“They were coming at us with their swords!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “There was one right in front of my face, and then da-ge dropped down from the sky with his saber and – bam! Woosh! Urk!”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Yanli’s mother snapped, though not as harshly as usual. It was almost long-suffering rather than cross. “Have some respect for Sect Leader Nie!”

“It’s fine,” Sect Leader Nie said. “I don’t mind. Are you prepared for invasion?”

“Invasion?” Jiang Yanli’s father said, frowning. “You think –”

“Wen Ruohan had given orders that the sect heirs of all the Great Sects be kidnapped or killed, not to mention your ward here and a few sundry others,” Sect Leader Nie said. “What is that if not a declaration of outright war? Surely he’d know that such a move, if successful, would lead to us all declaring war on him – he must have a next move planned out already.”

Jiang Yanli’s parents exchanged looks.

Sect Leader Nie pretended (badly) not to see it. “I’ve activated defenses in the Unclean Realm,” he said stiffly. “As you know, I’ve always thought…well. At any rate, we’ve made plenty of preparations, and they’re being put into action now. If it would be convenient, I was thinking of sheltering some of the targets there – I’ve already invited the Lan boys – and it would be no difficulty to have yours as well.”

He’d already assumed that they wouldn’t be prepared, Jiang Yanli thought, and saw her parents hear that unspoken message as well. He’d known they wouldn’t take the threat seriously and acted accordingly, and it was only due to his decisiveness that her brothers were still alive.

Her parents looked at each other again, gazes full of meaning.

“Very well,” Jiang Yanli’s father said after a long moment, voice heavy. “I will have to prevail upon your kindness, Sect Leader Nie.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sect Leader Nie said, and then frowned. “My concern is in regard to Lanling Jin...they have closer ties to Qishan Wen than either of us, and may discount the information, especially if it comes from me –”

“I’ll go,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said at once. “Madame Jin is my childhood friend. She will listen to me, provided it’s not already too late.”

Sect Leader Nie’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded. “He may as well come to the Unclean Realm as well,” he said. “Lanling City is large and Jinlin Tower spacious and luxurious, but there are many holes through which a snake might burrow.”

“I’ll bring him,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said. “Yanli can come with me.”

Jiang Yanli looked up, surprised. “Me?”

“You’re an heir, too,” her mother said. “You might not have been on the list, but you’re still at risk, especially if there’s going to be a war – greater risk, even. Anyway, Madame Jin will be more inclined to send her son to a safe place if she thought it was a way to build ties.”

The Jin sect heir was Jiang Yanli’s future fiancé. She supposed it was a good idea to meet him – and at least this way, she’d be going to the Unclean Realm with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, rather than staying behind.

“You should get something warm to wear,” Wei Wuxian advised her. “It’s cold when you fly!”

Jiang Yanli had developed her golden core just this year, right on schedule, so she doubted it, but she appreciated his consideration.

“Really cold,” the child in Nie sect colors said – the smaller one, since the older child, the Yunmeng one, was doing his best impression of a transparent plane of glass. “And we’ve been flying forever – we flew all night to get here from home, you know, and that was before da-ge fought seven Wen sect cultivators. And then we had to fly even more! Someone said something about soup. I want soup!”

“You should rest,” Jiang Yanli’s father said to Sect Leader Nie, abruptly sounding concerned. “Do you or any of yours require a doctor..?”

“Something to eat and some rest will be sufficient,” Sect Leader Nie said, which was probably a lie. “I’ll want to head out first thing in the morning, traveling by flight – I know it’s uncomfortable for the young ones, but I want to be back at my sect as soon as possible. You can send any additional luggage after us by horse.”

There was more talking then - mostly about how crazy Sect Leader Nie was to think he could make such a long flight with so many children, and, when he insisted, making him promise he’d take many breaks along the way - but luckily not much, and then there was saluting and Jiang Yanli was being swept away by her mother to go to Lanling City.

She knew it was wrong to be excited by the prospect of war, but she couldn’t help it. What an adventure!

[theweasleysredhair]

Falling For You [J.P.]

Character: James Potter

Word Count: 1572

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: soulmate au: feeling each others’ pain

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: not much happens in this really, I just had a storyline idea I couldn’t shake (we all know I’m a sucker for soulmate aus) and this is what happened - enjoy!

+ + + + +

You knew from a young age that your soulmate was prone to injury. Scratched knees, a broken arm (multiple times!), a dislocated shoulder, shattered ribs (that hurt) - you’d had it all and more before the age of 10.

Your mother always said your soulmate must either be an athlete, extremely clumsy or always fighting. You hoped for either of the formers, however with your luck, you were expecting the latter.

It was worrying sometimes, as there was no way to reach out to make sure your soulmate was okay, however you knew that as long as the pains kept coming through, he was alive. Sometimes he’d go long periods of time without hurting himself and you’d forget how clumsy he was, until you’d suddenly get winded or suffer stabbing pains, making you curse him under your breath.

As soon as you found out who he was, he’d be getting an earful from you about the pain he’d put you through. Especially considering the worst you’d done to him was a sprained wrist or twisted ankle now and again.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. There was the time Snape “accidentally” dropped some of his potion on you, leaving your skin burning and peeling. You hadn’t done anything to warrant the action, you just happened to catch him on a bad day - something about him falling out with a friend and being hung upside down outside.

It was now your final year in Hogwarts and the Quidditch season was just beginning. Whilst you didn’t play, you did enjoy watching the games with your friends, especially when it was the final game of the season, which it was - and thus meaning the winner of the Quidditch Cup would be revealed today, based on the scores.

Gryffindor vs Slytherin, always a nasty game, lots of house rivalry and players that would do anything to get the opposing teams’ players away from the snitch.

“Who do you think is going to win?” Y/f/n asked excitedly, grabbing ahold of your arm as you followed the masses of students heading toward the Quidditch pitch, all waving their banners and yelling in support of their chosen team. “(Y/fave/team), obviously! That is, if they all play fairly... which we can’t exactly count on,” you said as you pulled your scarf around your neck - the sun may be shining but it would be windy and cold stood outside in the stands.

“That’s true... last time Gryffindor and Slytherin played, Malfoy hexed Gryffindor’s brooms. Busy day for Madam Pomfrey...” Y/f/n trailed off in thought.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad this time,” you said as you took your place in your house stand, “I mean, McGonagall checked the brooms thrice over and Dumbledore is supposed to be keeping an eye out for any cheating off either side.”

You were silenced by a loud cheering rippling through the stands as the players took their place in the middle of the pitch. You faintly heard Madam Hooch’s voice announce the beginning of the match as the brooms raised into the air and the three kinds of balls were released.

The first half of the match was pretty uneventful - a couple of goals per team, nothing extraordinary. It was only when the teams flew higher - where it was harder to spectate - that the crowds began to whisper amongst themselves. The match was clearly getting more aggressive, with bludgers being hit towards chasers on both sides at an alarming rate. At one point, the Gryffindor seeker must’ve caught sight of the snitch as there was a sudden movement on his part, before he was hit out of the way by the Slytherin seeker, who mustn’t have been able to see the snitch himself and resorted to distraction instead.

Then suddenly there was the sound of two players crashing into one another, a plethora of gasps and a few screams, as a body started to descend from the air, followed quickly by an empty broom.

You saw Dumbledore quickly stand up from his place and hear him yell out a spell to limit the momentum of the fall, however the dark haired boy still hit the floor with force.

Then you heard more screaming, louder than before and you wondered where it was coming from until you realised it was coming from you, as you collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain. “Y/n! Y/n are you okay? What just happened??” Y/f/n called out, the last thing you heard before blacking out.

***

The room was silent when you finally opened your eyes and the only light was from the end window, the others having curtains pulled across. The last thing you remembered was a Quidditch player falling off their broom and considering the pain you felt, you could only draw the conclusion that he was your soulmate - the one who had been causing you pain your entire life. It made more sense - you figured it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen during training or games, but you knew that it was never this bad.

You could still feel faint aching around your body, giving you confidence that your soulmate had in fact survived. As you swung your legs out of the bed, Madam Pomfrey bustled through, “You’re awake dear! Nice to see you’re okay. I assume you must be feeling a bit run down, so take this potion, quickly now, and you’ll be right as rain in no time.”

You gratefully took the glass and sipped it, your face contorting at the taste.

“Madam Pomfrey? Could I ask... who was it that fell from the broom?”

She gave you a knowing smile, “Ah yes, you’d be referring to Mr Potter, dear. Nasty fall, dreadful it was. It was lucky Professor Dumbledore slowed the fall - wouldn’t want to imagine the damage if not. If you want to see him dear, he’s two beds over.” Madam Pomfrey took the empty potion glass you had drank and quickly made her way back down the Hospital Wing, as you stood up and slowly moved towards the bed she had referred to.

Mr Potter.

James Potter.

James fucking Potter was your soulmate.

You pulled the curtain back that was separating him from the rest of the room and couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips as you took in the sight of him. There was a nasty cut on his forehead, a trail of bruises down his jawline and towards his chest, one arms was in a sling, the other bruised and battered, and his legs were reclined upwards - you assumed he’d been given multiple potions at some point, judging by the empty glasses and syringes next to his bed.

You took the seat beside his bed and gingerly took one of his hands in yours, your fingers slowing running over the cuts on his knuckles.

“James Potter, once you survive this, I’m going to kill you,” you whispered as you gazed at his face, his soft eyelashes fanning down onto his cheeks.

‘Why was it fair that boys got naturally nice eyelashes?,’ you wondered, frowning, side tracked by that thought just as a raspy voice spoke out, “L/n?”

“James!” You locked eyes with him and he looked confused, his gaze floating down to where your hands were joined.

“Oh! Oh um... you’re probably wondering what happened and why I’m here instead of your friends and why I’m holding your hand and oh Merlin, I’m holding your hand? And well... you fell off your broom and hit the floor with quite the momentum and I can only imagine how much it hurt - well actually, that’s not strictly true, seeing as I also felt it - very much in fact as I’ve been here in the hospital wing as well overnight - and-“

“Y/n?” James whispered, effectively cutting off your rambling. “Yes?” You winced looking down. “Are you my soulmate?” He asked softly, running his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Well... yes. Yes, I do believe I am. And if I’m correct then I have a bone to pick with you because you’ve caused me a right amount of pain over the years... but I’ll wait until you’re better to get mad about that,” you told him with a nod (and a blush at the feel of him squeezing your hand tighter).

James chuckled, pulling his hand from yours momentarily as he reached up with his bruised arm to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, before returning his hand to you, “Can’t wait for that love, I promise I’ll get better as quick as I can. For now though... what’s an injured guy gotta do to get a kiss from his soulmate?”

You returned his grin as you leant down carefully to press your lips against his soft ones. He kissed back immediately as his hand held the back of your head, pulling you towards him to close any kind of gaps and deepen the kiss as he ran his tongue across your bottom lip, nibbling gently and eliciting a gasp from you, making him grin and attempt to pull you on top of him.

It was the perfect first kiss that would be followed by many many more...

and if Madam Pomfrey found you both snogging in his hospital bed a little while later... well, it definitely wouldn’t be for the last time, that’s for sure.

[vodkassassin]

world state: refresh, chapter two

Last chapter: “—From the description, it’s basically the same as the synopsis of your run of the mill VRMMORPG anime, except the virtual games are real worlds.”

“Sure, but if they’re real worlds, then what does being a Game Master mean?”

Shen Yuan grins down at him.

“Hey, Airplane,” he says. “How do you feel about being an actual god?” [Read ch. 1]

—

“Oh, yaaawn!” She throws herself back onto the plush surface behind her and stretches her arms above her head. “Man, what a chore! Hey, Dorazou, make a note to always double check the Mission Rating before accepting an Assignment in the future. No way in hell am I gonna be doing that again!”

“AwRAWRight!” The tiny avatar cheers, pumping a little red scaled fist into the air. “Reminder set! Hey, Host, if it’s any consolation, this system thinks you totally aced it!”

“Hmm,” she crosses her arms and stars at the collection of screens that have popped into existence before her. “The mission grading will be the judge of that. Let’s see, here…. Oh, awesome! I earned a double S score! You know what that means!”

Dorazou gives another little roar cheer that sounds more like a kitten's mew than anything. Ah, so cute! “Host may close her next Assignment! Congratulations!”

The agent gathers her hair up into a loose and messy bun at the top of her head, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Awesome. Let’s choose something easy, why don’t we? That last world was only an A-rank, but it gave me a lot more trouble than I bargained for. It should have been labeled at least S-tank! Dorazou, bring up all available Assignments. B-rank or lower only, please!”

“Gotcha!” The tiny dragon-themes sprite gives a little twirl, it’s clunky arms flailing adorably. “Assignment list set to: Easy!”

“Perfect, thanks! Let’s take a look, now… Otome-world…. Fantasy style cooking show star, haha. I have zero talent in that area, so please decline it for me, Dorazou…. Another Knights Order needs a Pure Heavenly Maiden for such and such ritual, ah, that honestly just sounds so sinister, decline! And here we have yet another otome assignment, damn. These things are such pests. Oh, what’s this?”

Sitting up, the agent leans in and peers closely at the screen, eyes bright in excitement. “Hey, Dorazou! This one calls for a team of agents!”

“That is correct!” Dorazou says, beaming. The dragon floats up to sit comfortably on the girl’s shoulder. “System Agents 74 and 81 have put in a request for additional manpower in the Game Master Assignment for World-120MAX. If Host accepts, she and four other agents will be tasked with working under the leadership of Agent 74 in creating and managing a Game World.”

She tilts back again, kicking her legs up into the air with some excitement. “What’s the deadline?”

Dorazou is quiet for a moment as it studies the screens. It gives a hearty cheer and pats the agent on the head. “No deadline! Host will remain on Agent 74’s GM Team until it is decommissioned by the Team itself!”

She jumps off the beanbag entirely to float up into the air, catching the little dragon sprite and hugging it to her chest. “Awesome! So it’s basically a neverending paid vacation, if we want it to be? That totally rocks! Dorazou, we lucked out with this one!”

“AwRAWRight!” The tiny system cheers, looping its scaly arms around her neck in a hug. “Is Host choosing this Assignment, then?”

“As if I’d ever turn down a chance like this! System Agents hardly ever get to work together! Dorazou, please confirm my acceptance!”

“Assignment chosen! Does Host wish to rest in the home space before starting?”

“Nah, I’m way too pumped now,” she clenches her fists and grins. “Dorazou, let’s go meet our new friends!”

“RAWR! World-120MAX loading! Twenty-eight percent! Fifty-percent! Eighty-three percent! World load complete! Entering database now!”

The agent grins as she dissolves into light. This is gonna be sweet!

—

“Nice to meet you! My name is Myra Khol, System Agent 23! I’m here for the Game Master Team Assignment!”

“The what?” The boy says, expression just positively befuddled as it has been when she’s first loaded into the world, and Myra tilts her head in slight confusion. Has this guy never met another agent before?

She hops down from the tree and steps over to him, a little surprised when he takes a step back in return. Man, this guy is shy! How cute!

“Wait a minute, did you just say ‘System’?” The boy straightens up, his eyes going even wider than they’d already been. “Does that mean you are also a transmigrator?”

“What else would I be?” Myra huffs out with some bemusement. “You guys clearly haven’t put any people in this world yet, so the only ones you’d be seeing are yourselves or another agent.”

“Agent…” the boy echoes, holding the fan up to his lips in thought. It’s an endearing gesture, something so old fashion being slightly out of place with the futuristic fantasy design of the boy’s outfit, and yet it still somehow fits him.

Myra blinks at him, and then decides to take pity. From the looks of it, this kid is a noob at the job. She remembers when that had been her. The good old days!

“Didn’t your Systems explain it to you guys yet?” She asks.

At her words, the boy’s expression darkens. “The System? No. Why would the System explain anything?”

Oh. That sounded like anger, there. Myra reaches out a hand and nervously scoots her precious Dorazou over until it’s hidden behind her back. The little dragon makes a tiny noise of confusion, but goes along with it.

The boy narrows his eyes at her action. “Speaking of systems… is that one yours?”

“Um, well,” Myra coughs. “Yes? But! Dorazou is such a sweet little thing! Wouldn’t harm a fly! Please take care of it!”

The boy looks confused. “Wouldn’t harm a fly! Have you never been threatened with Punishment Protocol?”

Myra gapes, aghast. “No! That’s reserved for triple S class worlds on the highest difficulty setting! Why would an Assignment like that be given to newbie agents?”

The boy stares at her, face pale.

“Oh.” Myra presses her hands over her mouth, staring at him in horror. “I mean, I’ve heard it happening only once. Someone being given an extreme-difficulty Assignment for their very first world. It was basically an impossible mission, but she luckily managed to complete it successfully. The Assignment Parameter glitch that led to it was suppose to have been fixed since then, though. Are you really saying…?”

The boy lets out a weak sounding laugh, bowing his head. He rubs the back of his arm across his eyes, and Myra feels something in her chest ache at the sight. These two agents… they’ve really been through the wringer, haven’t they?

Clearing her throat hesitantly, she asks, “The Assignment said there were two agents behind the request. Since you’re here, where’s your partner?”

“He’s on the other side of the Level, touching up on some persistent glitches that are occurring in quadrant five,” the boy releases an aggravated sigh. Then, he glances at Myra in surprise. “Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? My name is Shen Yuan, it’s really nice to meet you.”

Myra grins back at him, relieved. “Is it? For a moment there, I thought you weren’t happy to see me.”

“Are you kidding?” Shen Yuan laughs again, and this one is much lighter. It suits him way better than the faintly grieved sound from before. “I am ecstatic to meet you. It’s nice to know that we’re not as alone as we thought. Here, I’ll take you to my… partner. He should be about finished by now.”

Myra bounces onto her toes in excitement. She grabs Dorazou by the tail and troops after Shen Yuan when the boy turns his back and begins to walk away.

“Man, not being given a tutorial world really sounds like it sucked,” Myra says, side eyeing her new teammate as she comes up beside him.

Shen Yuan has an odd smile on his face when he replies. “It was… definitely something, yes.”

“You want me to lodge a complaint with Management?” She asks, a pinch of worry between her brows. “If all three of us do it, they’ll have to take another look at the glitch and make double sure that it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

Shen Yuan is quiet for a long while as they walk along the quaint little dirt path. The silence stretches into minutes, and Myra decides to leave him to his thoughts, because it looks like he’s pondering something pretty deep.

She busies herself with checking out their surroundings as they move along. Shen Yuan has called this area the Level, and she’s assuming it’s the first of its kind, and therefore intended to be the Starting Area for the Players when they enter into this world. She’s done her reading while loading into the Assignment, so she’s fairly confident in her ability to assist Shen Yuan and his partner with whatever sort of administration work they need help with. So far though, from what she’s seeing, the two of them are actually off to a really good start. One or both of them must have some sort of experience in world building.

What a perfect Assignment for them, if that’s the case.

Especially if what Shen Yuan says is true, and he really had suffered through a triple S class of extreme difficulty for what was suppose to be their tutorial world. He really deserves a paradisal vacation such as this, where he can recuperate from the troubles he’d faced.

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Shen Yuan finally says, voice so quiet that Myra wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the world around them wasn’t dead silent. It seems the audiosphere hasn’t been set up, yet.

Myra glances over to her side, and finds Shen Yuan staring down at the ground with a frown on his pretty face. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

“You said they already patched the glitch, so it shouldn’t have happened. They — whoever they are — clearly didn’t do their job.”

Myra bites her lip, and hugs a strangely quiet Dorazou to her chest. “Yeah, so we should file a complaint, right? And we can get the rest of the team on board with it, too, once they get here. I’m sure they’ll agree, too.”

“The rest of the team?” Shen Yuan asks, frown still present. He flicks his wrist, and the fan opens with a sharp snap and a skillful flourish. Myra stares at the action in awe. So refined! So graceful! And the fan itself was exquisite.

“I’m sorry, could you elaborate on the… Assignment Parameters you mentioned before? Xiao Lei and I just needed help, and the system said we’d have it. It didn’t explain what that help was, or where it would come from.”

Xiao Lei must be the other agent, Shen Yuan’ partner. Myra files the name away and directs a bright smile in the direction of her new teammate.

“Sure thing! Basically, your request generated a new Assignment in the listings for agents. It asks for five agents to form a team directly under you and your partner, though Agent 74 is suppose to be the team leader. That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Shen Yuan blinks at her, before his frown returns in full force. It looks faintly irritated this time, and the boy calls out, “System, what is my, uh, Agent number?”

There’s a faint sound of static, before a slightly stilted and robotic voice replies, “Host is filed as Agent 81.”

Myra glances down to see a Siamese cat, tail poised elegantly in the air and ears perked upright, weaving between Shen Yuan’s every step like a ghost. The cat glances up at her and blinks it’s bright blue eyes at her with an indifferent gaze.

“Oh, is that your System? It’s so cute!” She squeals.

The cat glances away from her, and Shen Yuan huffs.

“It’s an absolute snob, is what it is,” the boy refutes.

His system doesn’t look back up, and Myra feels a little bad for it, but…. Well, she supposed, if she’s been trapped in an SSS-rank hell world for her first Assignment, she might have some resentment toward her system, too.

She clutched Dorazou to her chest at the terrible thought, and is comforted when the little dragon spite turns around to nuzzle her back. It seems she’s really lucked out, huh?

“Does your system have a name?” She asks, scratching Dorazou behind the ear.

“Does it need one?” Shen Yuan asks coldly.

Myra cringes, glancing down at the aloof-looking cat that darts between his legs. It doesn’t even twitch at the way that it’s host speaks about it, and Myra decides to change the subject least the air becomes too awkward.

“So, um, I guess your partner is the designated team leader, then!” She tries, her smile fixed in place.

Shen Yuan shrugs. He flutters the pretty fan in front of his face and holds his other arm behind his back. He looks like some sort of regal young master of an ancient dynasty, with a posture like that. Myra wonders what the setting of his last world had been. Imperial court drama, perhaps? That sort of plot was almost always a guaranteed S rank.

“It suits him,” Shen Yuan says. “He has the most experience in creating worlds, so I guess I’d follow his lead even if he wasn’t the boss. Though, I’ll definitely be there to advise him, so he doesn’t get too carried away.”

“Carried away?” Myra wonders.

“It happens, sometimes.” Shen Yuan grimaces. “If it’s true that we’ll be a team, then I’ll be counting on you to keep an eye on him, as well.”

“Yes, of course!” Myra is a little confused, but Shen Yuan obviously knows his partner best, so she’ll take his words to heart. She salutes him. “You can definitely rely on me for that!”

This gets her a faint smile, and she inwardly cheers. This boy is surprisingly difficult to get a response out of. Myra hasn’t met someone like him in a long time.

Suddenly, Shen Yuan pulls to a stop, and gestures ahead of them. “We’re here,” he says, and then sighs. “Looks like he’s not finished… I wonder….”

Myra looks ahead of them, to see a huge structure looming in the distance. The forest they’ve been strolling through has given way to an open plain, grasslands mixed with an opaque sandy desert. A few hundred meters away sits a hulking building, which in closer examination is not a building at all, but in fact some sort of autonomous being. It’s collapsed on its side, limbs askew, a central panel of its torso gaping open to allow its mechanical insides to be strewn about throughout the grass and sand around it. There’s faint noises of metal hitting against metal coming from within it, and when Myra squints, she can just make out a tiny figure perched on the very edge of the thing’s opened chassis.

Shen Yuan takes a step forward, and Myra keeps back. He closes his fan with a satisfying clack and slips it into the pocket of his shorts, and then cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Shang Lei! Come here!”

Oh, so the other agent’s name was Shang Lei, not Xiao Lei.

Myra pokes at her lip in thought as she watches the distant figure poke it’s head up out of the mechanical innards of whatever creature they were tinkering around inside of. Shen Yuan, Shang Lei… those names both sound pretty Chinese to her. And in Chinese, Xiao is often used as a diminutive or an endearment. So, this must mean that Shen Yuan and Shang Leo are actually very close friends, right? Myra covers her smile with a hand.

Due to context gathered from Shen Yuan's earlier words, it must also be likely that they were partners in their last world. Meaning that Shang Lei also experienced what was, in layman’s terms, called a Hell Assignment. And it is likely that the Hell Assignment was also Shang Lei’s first Assignment, given that Shen Yuan has no idea about a lot of System Agent common sense.

If they were partners all this time, if Shang Lei had previous transmigration experience, he’d have schooled his partner on it by now. And yet, Shen Yuan was ignorant of a lot of things.

Myra presses both her palms to her cheeks and sighs quietly as she watches Shang Lei approach them. Shen Yuan has stepped up to meet him, but she can clearly see the hesitant way that Shang Lei holds himself, the wary way that he eyes her. The way that he slides himself into the shadow of Shen Yuan’s barely taller stature when he realizes she’s looking back at him.

She sighs in her heart, as well, and clutches Dorazou in one arm like a teddy bear. Her system pays her on the hand.

“—apparently posted an assignment asking for other agents to come and lend us a hand.” Shen Yuan is explaining quietly to his partner — his friend. He gestures at her with a hand. “This is Myra Khol, the first one to accept the mission.”

Myra steps forward the smallest step she can take without it seeming like she’s wary of them, too. It still makes Shang Lei duck even further behind Shen Yuan. She does not let it dim her smile.

“Hi, I’m Myra, System Agent 23! I’m pleased to meet you, boss!”

Shang Lei peeks out from behind his friend with wide eyes. There’s a complicated expression on his face.

“... Nice to meet you, too,” he mumbles, and curls back behind Shen Yuan as soon as the last word is out.

That is it! Myra has decided! She will help these two to the best of her abilities, not because it’s the Assignment, but because she wants to!

Dorazou! Edit Assignment self parameters!

[[Host!]]

The dragon sprite makes a soft noise from within her grasp. She sees the way that Shang Lei’s eyes dart down to it, and the frown that graces his face as he glances shyly back toward her with an expression that almost looks faintly concerned. For her. And given the fact that it’s very possible that Shang Lei’s opinion of systems is the same as Shen Yuan’s, due to their not-so-great past experiences, the look that he’s sending her now makes Myra’s heart melt.

[[Assignment parameters, self edit mode!]]

Myra’s smile broadens.

Take care of Agent 74 and Agent 81! Priority!

[yanderecandystore]

How would Jack react to an artistic s/o, like he carries a sketchbook with him at all times and once Jack saw that he had at least a full page of just Jack doodles and sketches

Yo, hello there! I'm sorry for taking so long to answer you, I was trying to find the right time to write! :3

Do y'all mind if I changed it up a little bit? Changing a little bit of "reader's role" in this headcanon, instead of always being the "one of his gang's members" and such. I decided to add a little more than one page of sketches though •v• because I'm an ass.

Also oh my God, I'm sorry for babbling so much at the start ;-;.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

A cool and peaceful breeze in the middle of all Hell [Yandere!Delinquent OC Male artist!Reader - Headcanon]:

Let's set the stage, dear.

You're one of many students inside Saint Bernard's School for Prodigies, a place that since it's building process, was meant to be a safe environment to all gifted students, and even students that didn't seem to have any talent at all. It was built to be a welcoming place.

It was built to rival Amaryllis Academy. While Amaryllis was focused on a specific group of people (coff coff rich families coff coff), Saint Bernard's was supposed to be the… "Common crowd alternative".

It never got to the same level of development as Amaryllis did. Although there are rumours about the Academy being a breeding ground for prejudice and discriminatory behavior (involving a lot of bullying towards students that had paid their way into the scholarship), Saint Bernard's was basically disfuncional.

The only thing granting a base for it's failed and shaky structure, was government income and the rumours around the school. Student deaths, delinquency, gang fights, fragile authority that fails to reinforce school regulations, contraband inside school grounds, no security for both the faculty's staff nor the students, severe cases of bullying, etc, etc.

You heard that a billion times. And don't get me wrong, it is not like there aren't good people here, good people that can't afford a better place to go. But the bad overthrows the good.

So here you are, just another boy trying to pass through the school year like any other student. A guy trying to keep under the radar of… Basically, every single student and teacher in this place. You came with terms that, sadly, you couldn't trust no one here.

You saw what happens if someone like you starts to get comfortable around these people. They're brutal. The thought of getting out of this place has crossed your mind many times, but you don't really know where else to go. It's the nearest place to your house, and it's literally free to enter.

You're the silent type, you're not exactly antisocial by any means, you just prefer to be left alone with your pens and your trust sketchbook, although, it's kinda not having much space left, is it?

You don't have more money to buy a better set of materials, and to be honest, you're aware of how unkindly people would treat you if you bring something a little more pricey. There were students who were already picking on you for the fact that you just kept drawing and being a lazy bun, if they saw you with things that clearly looked (even a little bit) expensive you would never hear the end of it.

You remember seeing a poor girl (I mean literally) who had saved her money to buy a new pair of shoes, since her's were clearly old and tearing apart. Her tenacity was something really admirable, as she saved more than enough money to buy something actually good for her. Something she probably didn't seem to be accustomed with, as her reaction to getting her new shoes destroyed in front of her own eyes was absolutely heartbreaking.

Chills still run down your spine, as you remember one boy saying something like-

"- It's her own fault. She shouldn't have come to this place wearing that."

You really hate this place, the only shine of light though was what you heard another boy say.

"- Yeah, it sure is a poor girls' fault that a bunch of imbeciles are jealous of her accomplishments." That sarcastic tone was more than enough to get your attention, looking at the direction of the voices talking you saw the two boys that were talking.

One was clearly discomfortable with the situation, like he just said something stupid and is trying to not sound as bad as it was, and the other one who was not even looking at the asshole beside him, and oddly enough, he wasn't looking at the situation happening in front of everyone anymore. He felt like someone was looking at him, and coincidentally, there you were.

Of course, he looked at you like he would simply get up and beat the shit out of you for staring at him, he thought you had a problem with him, and he wouldn't mind starting a problem with you if that were the case.

The cold look was enough to send you the message, and not wanting to cause any trouble, you just moved your attention to somewhere else, ya know, like the girl suffering in the middle of the school's hall, maybe you shouldn't have looked at him for so long.

I guess you were just, caught up in his features?

Okay, maybe you have a problem now. You can't help but keep drawing him! Like, okay, you thought that maybe just one sketch would be fine. He has a lot of nice facial features and- and he is always with a closed expression. No emotions, just pure angst. You found yourself liking to draw him, and when you noticed, you had enough material to cover two pages. Two fucking pages filled with a boy don't even know!!

[Y/N], come on, get to your senses. You heard about the boy, he is one of the many delinquents running this place, if not the leader of one of the most influential gangs around this hellhole. Jack, was it?

Imagine having that guy and his gang come beat you up for being extremely nosy and drawing him so many times? You want to know what's worse though? One of these sketches were from a specific moment you saw this man without his jacket on, his shirt being see through and almost non-existent.

You need to burn all of them. Immediately. Or otherwise your school year will go from manageable to completely fucked. But some of these make great art studies tho-

"- Yo. I need to talk with you." Oh dear lord, your time has come.

"- S-Sup!" You try to hide the sketchbook before he notices some interesting depictions of himself. But honestly, it was too late boo, he already knew about it.

"- Mayday told me you've been stalking me." Jack said, not sounding even a little bit concerned about being "stalked".

You don't really know who is "Mayday", unless she is one of his gang's members. Actually, you may have a guess on who she is. You think you saw some girl giving you odd looks here and there, not really mean looks, but just "concerned looks", and now that you think about it, you saw her walking around with Jack.

Wait, was she the girl that got her shoes destroyed that day?

"- Oi! Aren't you going to say what the fuck is your problem?" While you were thinking about who that girl was, Jack took the opportunity to come closer and snatch your sketchbook.

"- Give me that. You better answer me or you won't see this until then." Jack had started to open the sketchbook up, to his absolute luck and to your demise, he opened up on that exact page.

"- Wait! Hold on, don't open it!-"

Too late though. His face said everything.

"- Woah. Interesting." Jack knows absolutely nothing about art and drawing and stuff like that. Yeah, he may know a couple of things about writing but, it's completely different to him. He is impressed with how talented you are.

That's so quite flattering details you managed to put in there, does he really look like that to you?

"- This is your work right? Is this why you kept staring at me?" He asks you, but honestly, what would answer? This guy has a whole group of people that can easily hurt you, so telling the truth can both free you and damn you.

"- Yeah, I did all of these… I'm sorry if it seemed like I was stalking you, well, I mea- I'm sorry if it made you feel awkward, I just thought you were a interesting model I guess?" There is no imaginable way of saying this without sounding like an stalker, right? God, this is so embarrassing…

Jack is absolutely flattered by this. Oh, yeah, it's creepy as fuck, love. But does he really care? I mean, dearest, do you really know him?

Mayday wasn't the first one to notice you staring, of course he felt someone drooling over him. It facinates him how ever since that day you kept being more prominent in his life, or rather, in his mind, as he never really made a move to physically interact with you.

He is surprised by how his acting skills have improved, he thought that he wouldn't find a way to convince you of his surprise when noticing your drawings for the "first time". Throughout this whole time he has thinking about you, is funny to see that in a way you were also thinking about him. Well, partially, you probably saw him as only a way to improve your art.

And honestly, he doesn't mind being your muse.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 7: Shall We Dance

• Something I didn’t consciously realize about this film until reading Hannah Hyam’s book is that Astaire and Rogers don’t dance together until nearly an hour in. That hasn’t happened since Gay Divorcee. What was anyone thinking??

• Shall We Dance suffers from a lot of extra crap that it didn’t need, such as extraneous characters, far too many interruptions in the Astaire and Rogers relationship, and a bunch of weirdness like life-sized dolls, life-like masks, and backbending ballerinas. The film also has a lot of wasted potential, including a great score and songs by George and Ira Gershwin. 

The Gershwins were already well acquainted with Astaire and Rogers. The duo had first met when she was starring in the brothers’ show, Girl Crazy, and Astaire was brought in to help with choreography. Rogers was close friends with George and even dated him. Astaire had known the brothers prior, having starred in a few of their shows with his sister, Adele. 

• Our characters/actors: Peter “Petrov” Peters (Fred Astaire), Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers), Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton), Arthur Miller (Jerome Cowan)

• Around the time I was first really into classic Hollywood films, including these ones, my family and I adopted a new dog. I annoyed my parents to no end by suggesting we name him Peter P. Peters. Don’t know why I latched onto that name but I did. 

• Even in the massive portrait of Petrov, you can see Astaire has his fingers curled in rather than fully extended.

• Astaire’s ballet attire lets us once again see just how skinny he is. 

• Always loved how Peter does a little tap at the rhythmic sound of his name and birthplace: Pete Peters, Philadelphia PA.

• Rogers’ cardigan with all of its baubles is truly awful looking. It will only be out done by a terrible floral dress she wears later. 

• I do however like that she shoves her handsy stage partner into a fountain. Why are men constantly the worst?

• “And why must there always be a kiss at the second-act curtain?” is YET ANOTHER example of these films trolling us. Not once up until this point has any act of an Astaire/Rogers outing included a kiss between them. 

• Linda’s disinterest in even meeting Petrov is based on the assumption that he’s a “simpering toe dancer.” While that’s incorrect, she’s not wrong that he is indeed another man who has seen a picture of her and wants to tell her he can’t live without her. So she gets partial credit. 

• If Peter wasn’t totally smitten before, Linda’s jab, “It’s just a game little American boys play” gets him. 

• As a mixed race number, “Slap That Bass” is incredibly unusual for the era. Astaire was a great admirer of African-American dancers and was strongly influenced by Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. I love the blend of all of the voices in this song. 

• The dance portion of “Slap That Bass” gives Astaire a chance to show off more of his innovative mind and choreography. He dances in time with the sounds of the ship’s engine and compels the camera to follow him across and up the vast set. The dance is also special in that we have behind the scenes footage of Astaire rehearsing, thanks to a home video shot by George Gershwin. 

• Peter making Jeffrey believe the boat is rocking may seem a bit unbelievable but having been on a large ship myself, sometimes you don’t realize it’s rocking until you see other passengers weaving or a giant chandelier swaying. 

• I usually skip most if not all of Jeffrey and Arthur’s scenes together. They slow down this film soooo much.

• Like in all of their films, songs are sometimes heard in the background before the actual musical number they appear in. But because this film is scored by the Gershwins, there’s an array of shorter pieces of music that are all their own, such as the whimsical score heard while Rogers and then Rogers with Astaire are walking her dog.

• The dog Peter borrows to give himself an excuse to talk to Linda hits his bark cue perfectly and looks extremely happy about it. 

• I would love to know what exactly Astaire and Rogers are talking about while walking her dog. Maybe they were given lines that were then not recorded or maybe it’s improv. But it seems very natural. 

Rogers did say that Astaire was a wonderful conversationalist and was adept at talking while dancing, something she noted most men couldn’t manage. 

• Wow do I love it when Rogers gets to be extra sassy

Peter: “Isn’t it wonderful being here tonight like this? Still on the same boat together.”

Linda: “Oh, I seldom change boats in mid-ocean.”

• “Beginner’s Luck” is such a charming, fast song that Astaire delivers wonderfully. He hardly seems to take a breath. 

A jazzed up version of “Beginner’s Luck” is the song Peter tried to dance to in Paris but the record kept getting stuck. 

• Something this movie fails at is letting Linda and Peter’s relationship continue to progress before throwing more obstacles in their way. We know from the gossip of the ship’s staff that they have been spending a lot of time together. When we see them, they are having a relaxing evening that’s incredibly domestic: sitting side by side on the deck while she knits and he smokes. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see more of this part of their relationship? 

• Why on earth did Peter think sending Jeffrey to fix the false baby rumors was the right decision? Jeffrey can’t handle a single thing. 

• Infuriated at the rumors that she’s married to Peter and pregnant with their baby, Linda tries to call him. “Operator! Get me Mr. Petrov. What? Don’t you dare congratulate me!”

• The theme of this movie is supposed to be the blend of dancing and music styles. Peter’s ballet and Linda’s jazz styles are one example, George Gershwin’s varied score, which switches from jazz to waltz to foxtrot to classical, etc, is another. But it’s a fairly weak concept that doesn’t quite land and reportedly, neither Astaire or Ira Gershwin was wild about it. 

• I love the new version of “Slap That Bass” that plays as Peter and Jeffrey enter the rooftop club. 

• When Rogers sings “They All Laughed,” she is singing to an off-screen Cary Grant, her friend and sometimes date who was visiting the set at the time. 

She is also wearing a dress with a horrible pattern. It’s supposed to be floral but it always makes me think of amoebas. Maybe it looked better in color?

• Astaire clearly has fun during the part where Peter hams it up a bit with his ballet next to Linda’s tapping. 

• In some ways, “They All Laughed” is reminiscent of “Isn’t it a Lovely Day.” They’re testing each other, trading glancing as they see whether the other can keep up with the increasingly complex steps. Until now, Linda didn’t know Peter could dance this way so her surprise and amusement unfolds slowly as the routine progresses. But he has been grinning since the start because he’s hoping to win her back through this dance.

• This is another duet where it takes a long time before they touch. The first physical contact is just her executing a series of spins with the help of his fingers. And it’s during this part that Rogers finally breaks into a wide smile.  

• When he spins her up onto the piano the first time, she happily waits for him to retrieve her. And when he spins her into a seated position and upright again a few times don’t miss how he looks at her with a wry, slightly mischievous smile. 

• The Linda doll is so creepy and not lifelike. Who was fooled by this?

Also, Arthur is terrible. Jeffrey is terrible too but he’s an idiot so I’m more willing to let it slide. 

• Peter walking out of Linda’s bedroom in the morning in his robe right in front of her fiancé while she is in her negligee is pretty funny. 

• Peter and Linda’s nice day out is just further proof that this movie should’ve spent more time on the two of them together rather than breaking them up every few minutes. 

• “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” is a fun song, though Astaire gets most of the good words imo. However, Rogers does do an extra affectation to some of her lyrics and that makes them funnier. 

At one point when she’s singing, he turns to her and for just a moment his face goes soft in that way it does sometimes when he looks at her. 

• Some film historians have labeled this dance as not that great when compared to other Astaire and Rogers numbers. But I’ve always found it very enjoyable and innovative. While Gene Kelly probably takes the gold medal for dancing on skates in It’s Always Fair Weather, Astaire and Rogers did it first, did it well, and deserve some extra credit for a duet on skates rather than a solo. 

Rogers also deserves some extra credit since the idea to dance on skates was supposedly hers. And probably deserves even more credit for doing this dance on skates while also in heels. 

• For some reason I really enjoy that they perform this number in their hats and street clothes. It’s so informal and feels like something you do on a fun date. 

• Throughout this dance, Peter continues to be the playful one, as he’s been in their interactions in the film, and Linda is the more serious one who needs to be coaxed into having fun. Maybe this is why Astaire frequently glances at her and even spends long seconds watching her at different parts as they move into the next series of steps. Rogers is more reserved in her expressions but whenever they are face to face, she appears happiest. 

A few times she looks triumphant, leading me to wonder if they or she had finally nailed a section that was giving them or her trouble. 

• Can’t say for certain but I swear she almost falls when they do the backwards steps. She just baaaarely snags his hand in time. 

They had to film this dance something like 150 times so I imagine there was more than one time where at least one of them did indeed fall. 

• The circular dance they do leading up to the end is based on a dance Astaire and his sister made famous in their time on the stage. 

• Apparently the grassy bank they tumble onto wasn’t padded so those fake grimaces of pain aren’t that fake. Their exchange after the tumble feels very much like married banter to me:

Peter: “Yes, it was my idea.”

Linda: “Have you any more of them?”

Peter, exaggerating: “No.”

• They’re such a good match:

Linda: “Peter, you’ve got to marry me.”

Peter: “Why, Linda, this is so sudden.”

• Oh 1930s Hays Code humor. The cop who overhears their conversation thinks she’s pregnant and pressuring the father of the baby into marrying her. Hurr hurr hurr.

• Heh:

Linda: “I beg your pardon but what are grounds for divorce in this state?”

Clerk: “Marriage.”

• It will never make sense to me that a dance was not planned in this film for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” It’s a truly lovely song. I know Astaire and Rogers will dance to it more than ten years later in The Barkleys of Broadway but it’s just not the same. 

It’s also a good reminder in the film that Peter has legitimate feelings for Linda and she does for him but they’re far more conflicted. Though he must sense he’s hooked her in a bit since he becomes very aloof once they return to the hotel in the stupid hope of making her want him more? Idk, men are dumb. 

• “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” carries special poignancy because it became a form of consolation to Ira Gershwin after his brother suddenly died two months after this film was released. 

• Oh Linda’s face when she walks in to see Peter with the loathsome Lady Tarrington is so sad and crestfallen. Ever thought you and your crush were finally on the same page only to find them canoodling with someone else? 

Although, she could’ve knocked first instead of just walking straight into his room…

• The ballet portion of the finale is weird and unappealing in every way. Harriet Hoctor was known for the backbend dance she does in this film. Maybe it was something spectacular in 1937?? but it doesn’t hold up. 

One thing I’ll say about Astaire’s duet with Hoctor, it’s a great chance to see him in a romantic duet with someone other than Rogers and notice how different he acts. No secret smile, no lingering looks, no whispered words, no soft expressions. 

• “Shall We Dance” is another upbeat song that deserves more than being featured in the remaining few minutes of the film. Their dance is far too short but wonderful all the same. Her delight when he finds her always makes me smile. She also executes some impressive full length lunges that I couldn’t do at this moment much less in a dress and heels in the middle of a dance number. 

For a few seconds, his fingers press into the exposed dip of her spine in yet another example of Victorian hotness. 

• And so we finish film number 7. Shall We Dance underperformed at the box office and wasn’t a critical darling. Everyone, the actors included, started to feel the magic was coming to an end. Coming up next is a film I pretty much never rewatch: Carefree. 

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

Double posting- let’s go! Part 18

Here’s part 17 for a refresher but the rest of the story is in the fate and fortune tag. Head kinda empty when I wrote this, no proofreading...

Moots :3 @fyre23 and @risottoneroo

The usual tw- its still JoJo over here

Sleep alluded Vera in the early morning so instead of sulking about in her room she returned to the hospital to be with Kakyoin. The nurses objected fiercely as she simply strolled and phased through hallways to get to the redhead.

She gently knocked on the door and spoke- so as not to startle him since he was a bit more vulnerable that usual. “Noriaki. It’s me. Can I come in?”

When she didn’t get an answer she pushed through regardless.

“Vera.” The relief in her voice made her heart do a backflip. He sat up in his bed, bandages around his eyes but seeming to look in her general direction. “You’re alright.”

Vera didn’t say much as she approached his bed and took his outstretched hand. “I’m so sorry, I should have been able to help you but I-“

“No, Vera no. You had already been injured- I wouldn’t have asked the impossible from you.”

She moved in closer, gently slipping her arms in around his. “I was so scared I had lost you.” His hand tightened the grip on the shirt in her back at her words- “I thought the same.”

Fortune materialized beside her, bringing their hands to her side of Kakyoin’s head to start healing his eyes. “I guess I was so frantic I couldn’t just reverse you wounds. No going back now...”

Kakyoin’s grip on her wrist tightened. “Vera... I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time.”

“Ask later, just let me heal you.”

“Please... wait, before you continue.”

Reluctantly, she took both of his hands in hers- Fortune stopping- and squeezed his hands. “I’m listening.”

“As crazy as it sounds... when I went under during the attack- my mind was racing like crazy and I couldn’t escape this question anymore. You seemed so tired yesterday- even as we said our goodbyes. Am I wrong to think moving time forward is strenuous on your life?”

“What? No! Where would this come from?”

“You’ve been greying this whole trip, Vera. Beautiful as you are with or without the grey... I can’t help but think you’re glossing over the fact that you’re giving months, even years of your own life for us.”

Has it really been this way? The cost was no surprise to her but... if she truly was truly simply transferring time to heal other’s wounds... “It’s my choice. I’ve always known the consequences of what I do.”

Kakyoin gave a soft smile, his hands squeezing hers tighter now. “Is it strange to think I could hear the uncertainty in your voice just now?”

“I can’t just let you suffer through the pain.” Her hand came up to cup his cheek- wishing frantically that he could see the tears she was holding back.

“Vera... I’d like to spend a bit longer than 50 days with you and Jotaro, you know. We can’t do that if you give your years away like this.”

Before Vera could move her hand away from his cheek he brought his hand to it, leaning into her touch as if he would miss it. “You’re not letting me heal you, are you?”

He turned his head so as to kiss the palm of her hand. “Nope.” He took said hand enterlaced it with his- pulling her in closer until she was back in his arms, resting his chin on her head. “I’ll be fine.”

Vera stuck around for the prognosis with the others in the room as well- she’d gotten a firm admonishment from Avdol for leaving her hospital room... not knowing what she had done in the hotel room. After explaining his refusal of her help and well wishes on the next leg of the trip, they paid the medical bills and were soon packed and off to Kom Ombo.

“So you say all your ability to move time back-“

“It’s extremely strenuous. I’ve tried reverting something as simple as my hair being dry but even that makes me feel like I had just ran a mile.”

Avdol’s held his chin in throught as Vera sat on the railing near the nose of the felucca. “All of this has changed in the span of three days?”

Vera tilted her head to the side. “Three? We arrived in Aswan yesterday.”

“No, Vera. After we had arrived in Aswan I was admitted into the hospital for observation and you were still unconscious due to the blood loss. When you woken up and they were busy with your second blood transfusion- your blood pressure had dropped dramatically for some reason and I had just been been discharged.”

Admittedly the memory was fuzzy- after being admitted into the hospital... it didn’t seem so unlikely that she had slept after going under but it was still kind of shocking.

“Which brings me to ask- why do the hospital not have record of you after 3 am?”

Vera took a drag of her cigarette, sliding off the the rail to sit where the wind wouldn’t catch her and ashing in the tray she had brought for herself. “Because I was in the morgue freezer?”

Avdol’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“I was having a pretty bad fever.”

He gaped at her in shock.

“More specifically a stand fever?”

Avdol didn’t often react in the way he did in that moment- his hands flying up to his temples as he tried to ease a headache quickly approaching. “Another stand fever?”

“I know, it’s bizarre- but Fortune is a bit different, if her change in abilities isn’t obvious and I had the strangest nightmares. I wouldn’t confuse it with another fever.”

Avdol’s shock and frustration soon turned into concern. “I’m supposing you were looking for some kind of relief. When did it end?”

“Uhh well...” she recalled her bumbling self getting dressed and calling the cab outside the hospital with the night shift nurses well asleep and her ice bath in the hotel room. “After that I went back to the hospital to be with Kakyoin.”

After a moment Avdol sat down beside her, holding his hand out for the cigarette which she gladly handed over. “Of course only you would get up to this nonsense and manage surviving a stand fever like that.”

He took one drag and took a steady exhale as the wind howled around them. “I worry about you, Vera.”

“Well I mean easier said that done but, don’t. I can handle myself.”

Avdol gave a huff of laughter, taking one more drag before handing it back to her. “There’s no shame in asking for help, though.”

At their stop, Vera had take it upon herself to stick to Polnareff for the day- stopping him from ripping up a merchant’s papyrus. “Thank you for the demonstration but he’s French-“

Before Polnareff could protest her argument he was too busy getting distracted by Iggy stealing the gum straight out of his hands. “Fuck, when Jotaro said it’s like babysitting- he meant it, huh?”

She jogged after Polnareff, struggling to keep up with the giant of a man. “He really gave the slip.”

“Of course he did, he’s only half a foot tall.” Vera followed after cautiously in the ruins- feeling some or other ominous presence look over them.

“You feel it too, right?” Polnareff slowed down a bit for their pace to sync a bit better. Vera nodded, not sure what it was but waiting nonetheless. When a man in her right fell in line with them and walked a few paces in sync, Polnareff pulled her closer by her wrist to bring her out of the way between the two men. At the stand still Polnareff confronted the guy directly, their gazes never meeting.

“Divine Anubis, huh? Y’know my dad used to be a devout worshipper himself. They actually spoke of a sword forged by Anubis himself that had been lost to turmoil and time- made of Anubis’s shadow.”

True to Vera’s suspicion- held to Chaka’s hip was a sword and maybe her hint at Polnareff would be well received but she simply knew it wasn’t.

Polnareff ordered her to stay where she was- closer to the crowd and watch as they shelled but like hell she was going to allow it.

At the first hit on Polnareff’s chest she hopped up and followed the crumbs to where the sheath of the sword laid almost forgotten in the sand. She followed the ruckus back- bringing Fortune to heal Polnareff’s chest before standing between the two.

“Now I may only have done light fencing in high school but honestly- I’m pretty sure that’s not how you wield a katana.”

At the insult Chaka moved as she’d expected- sword forward to plunge into her but with just a it of luck from Fortune the sword slid straight into its sheath and up and over Chaka’s head.

“Admittedly, it’s pretty but...very cursed.” Vera clicked the sword back into its sheath fully started carrying it back to Polnareff. “I tried to give you a hint- did it not catch?”

Polnareff seemed affronted at her question. “When did you throw me a hint? The legend of a sword formed by Anubis? Ring any bells? I told you it was made out of Anubis’s shadow?”

“That was the hint?”

“What? You think I just like talking about ancient rumors for fun?”

Iggy’s barking brought their attention back to the others calling the from the foot of the hill for the next stretch of travel.

“You did fencing?” Polnareff asked, looking as confused as ever.

In Endufu Vera sat on the desk of the hotel they’d be staying in, swinging her legs out in front of her as they considered the sword. “So if it’s an artifact- how did it get in the hands of a commoner?” Mr Joestar hummed as he observed the jewel encrusted sword.

“I’m guessing it has some effect on non-stand users. Is it just me but seeing an expensive sword like that I would have peddled it for money to the historica. If it’s a stand it probably has a sway of making someone become its user.”

Avdol picked up the sword- turning it around to see if it had any effect on him.

“I think the best course of action would be to hand it to the Speedwagon Foundation to lock up. Vera, think you could make the call and get it to the right place?”

As promised, she had handed the sword to the boys as she made the call for an emergency pick up. It was scheduled for about an hour so she took the time to slip into the shop- hand Polnareff the sword and tug Jotaro out for a smoke break. Or at least so she had planned.

After pulling him aside from public eye- she was about to bring her lips to his but when Jotaro’s eyes stopped at the scars running down her arms. He held her forearms gingerly in his considerable bigger open palms.

“Stop it.” Her hand shot up to hold his face to look at her but his eyes followed. “It wasn’t you.”

Those aquamarine eyes seemed to hold an unbelievable sadness as his gaze moved to meet hers. Tiredly he seemed to do all he could do- bring her in against her chest for a moment of peace for the both of them... until the glass shattered behind them and she knew it was probably Polnareff.

One heavy sigh and some nasty close calls later, the sword was sinking to the bottom of the Nile.

“So- thus far we’ve had an orangutan with a stand, a dog with a stand, a baby with a stand and now a sword... yeah if Dio had two stand would you really be surprised?”

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 4, daily life (Part 2)

Note of the author: Ok uhhhhhh I didn’t expect that shit to be that long so the daily life parts (normally ‘1 part = 1 day’) are going to be '2 parts = 1 day’.

Chapter 4: Dance, dance, hanged puppets - Daily life

Day 14 since the beginning of the game.

7:30 AM.

Shuichi woke up earlier than expected.

Not because he gave up on sleeping. He simply didn't feel like going back to sleep.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the grey card on the table, in the middle of the room.

The ‘Sanzu key’ as Monokuma called it.

What was he even planning?

The violinist took a shower, trying to forget about those worries for a while.

But he couldn’t.

Monokuma’s motive always came the day after the new labs opened. This time they had a part of the motive, but the bear specified that the whole thing was not ready yet.

What did that even mean?

After his usual routine, he left his room. Surprisingly, Kirumi was leaning against a pillar, and Miu was laying on the ground, head resting on her arms, staring at the ceiling.

Ryoma was also there, fidgeting with his Sanzu key.

The others turned to Shuichi.

“G’morning. Breakfast canceled, we stay here.” the street artist said with a hint of sarcasm.

He blinked. “What’s... Happening?”

Kirumi shrugged. “No one knows. The dormitories’ door is locked, so we can’t go out. We’re locked here.”

... What? Was that the motive? Being quarantined in their rooms? That sounded like a bad joke.

“We tried calling Monokuma and even the monokubs and no one came.” Ryoma explained.

That sounded fishy. Extremely fishy.

They could only wait.

Rantaro, Kiyo, and Tsumugi came out of their rooms one by one. The situation had to be explained each time.

...

8:00 AM.

The morning announcement rang, but the message was different.

“All students are required to go out of their rooms, this is a direct order from the principal of the academy!”

Did Monokuma want them all at once? Usually, when an announcement was made they were all supposed to go to the gym. Why the dormitories this time?

Speaking of the devil, the bear and his cubs appeared before them.

“My, my! It’s as though almost everyone is here!” he cackled. “Only Mr. grumps and Mr. gloomy are missing!”

Shuichi flinched at the nicknames.

The two cubs started their shenanigans that Shuichi didn’t even bother listening to.

The only emotion he could feel when the monokubs appeared was a pure annoyance. Not even hatred. Pure annoyance.

He couldn’t even bother being mad at them. It just felt like each time they visited them, his only desire was to see them disappear forever.

Minutes felt like hours, Shuichi silently praying for Kaito and Kokichi to just come out from their room already so the green and red bears would shut up.

Kaito was the first to come out, surprisingly. his appearance was less messy than yesterday.

Shuichi noticed him glancing at Miu, the latter avoiding his gaze.

He muttered a quiet “Hey.” as he came down the stairs. The biker immediately separated himself from the group to lean against a pillar.

After another couple of minutes waiting for Kokichi, the boy opened his door, stumbling out of his room. He didn't seem to have slept well.

“Next time, do not come late to the principal’s announcement! I’ve waited way too long for you two to come out!” he raised his paws in the air, voice a bit too loud for the two who had woken up minutes ago.

“So, what do you want from us this time?” Rantaro was straight to the point.

“Sheesh, stop being so eager for the motive, I can’t even prepare the surprise!”

So it was the motive.

“Anyway, let me present you the next motive, starting from today to the moment someone dies...”

“... The Sanzu garden!”

That raised more questions than answered them.

“And what is the ‘Sanzu garden’?” Ryoma raised an eyebrow.

“To put it simply, this entire academy was renovated just for you guys!”

Something that involved the whole academy?

“Before explaining the motive, perhaps I should tell you a story passed through generations... Have any of you heard the legend of the Sanzu river?”

Tsumugi put a finger on her chin. “From what I’ve heard, the Sanzu River is a mythological river of the Buddhist religion. Souls joining the afterlife must pass the river by one of the three crossing points, depending on the actions they made in their life, also known as ‘karma’.”

Kokichi visibly flinched at the explanation.

“Great! I may also add that a cost is required to cross the river. Six mon to be specific.” the bear explained.

“In other words, this academy has been transformed into a great garden! And the cost of living for another day must be paid! However, the cost isn’t six mon like the legends told since we live in a modern society with better ways to pay your lovely headmaster!”

Kaito raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “So what, someone must kill within 24 hours so the others can live?”

“Better! That’s where your Sanzu keys play their part! They serve as bank cards to pay your fee to live for the next 24 hours!”

“Wh- bank cards??” Miu exclaimed, taking out the card.

“There are two locks with your icons hidden in the academy, specific to each of you. You will have to activate the locks each day with your card keys to continue living. One lock must be activated between 8 AM and 3 PM, and the other between 3 PM and 10 PM. It doesn’t matter in which order you activate the locks.” the bear explained as everyone listened carefully.

“Also, do not even try to activate another person’s lock! This will not work in the slightest! And the locks’ placements will be different each day! They can be in the labs, common rooms, and even outside!”

Rantaro, who had sat down, joined his hands. “Let me get this straight. We have to use cards on locks two times a day and look around the academy to find them?”

“Where’s the catch.” Ryoma bluntly asked. “That’s way too easy. There’s a catch.”

The bear laughed. “Puhuhuhuhu... I’m glad you asked! The catch is also the reason why we are meeting in the dormitories after all!”

This did not reassure Shuichi in the slightest.

“Did you know? The Sanzu river takes its name directly from the Japanese ‘San’, meaning ‘three’ and ‘Zu’, meaning ‘way’ for our non-japanese audience!”

... What?

“This garden has a similar mechanic! There are only three choices offered to those entering it!”

“... To die, to kill or to suffer.”

... Huh?

“This academy is a garden of traps in every corner. Both outside and inside. From pitfalls to spears to arrows to spikes, everything is here to hurt you. But my favorite part is...”

“... Some rooms will lock themselves and whisper your worst fears to you.”

“Of course, none of the traps will actually kill you, that would be a shame if someone was accidentally killed!”

“But I meticulously put everything in place so you guys could enjoy this academy of nightmares!”

Monokuma raised his paws in the air with excitement.

... This could not be real.

An academy of nightmares??

“There is one zone that is free of danger, which is where we’re standing!”

“The dorms are safe?” Kirumi raised an eyebrow.

“Thaaaat’s right! The dormitories are the only place without any traps!”

Shuichi couldn't even say anything.

As if the academy wasn't already the place where they all had to kill each other, it just had to be trapped for the sole purpose of making them suffer?

What did whoever put them into the killing game even want from them?

If he even dared to ask Monokuma he would probably say "despair".

And at this point, is the truth even worth knowing?

Was there even an explanation of why they had to endure this?

"Of course it would take a loooong time to search through the whole academy for the locks, so I'm giving you one hint each day! They will be available on your monopads! How generous of me!"

Shuichi wanted to vomit.

This entire motive made no sense.

"That was all the explanations for the motive! Any questions?"

No one even dared to speak.

That was even worse than the last motive.

Even if he even managed to survive, what even would be the next motive?

"No? Then good luck! And don't forget..." the bear smiled.

"The garden will be shut down when a dead body gets discovered."

He left immediately after, the two remaining monokubs following behind.

Everyone stared at each other.

Rantaro slowly approached the door and opened it.

No traps were visible, but Shuichi knew the moment someone would set a foot outside a trap would activate.

"Give me a sec." Ryoma approached his dorm and entered the room.

About a minute later, he came out with a set of tennis balls, supposedly won at the monomono machine. He took a ball out and threw it outside.

... Nothing happened.

"Was Monokuma lying about the traps?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow.

"I think it just means that it's not a trap activated with a motion sensor. There's a possibility the trap is activated when you step foot on one of the path stones." Kirumi shook her head.

"Before we go head first and get us all killed how about we get organized? We know the dorms are the safe spot of the academy, so we'll likely spend most of our time here." Rantaro turned to the others.

"We'll still have to go outside to find the locks." Kiyo added. "We will have to think collectively or else we will not keep up for long."

Shuichi checked his monopad to see what the hints were.

Memories of lavender.

Senses and intuition ~ Follow your heart.

Of course it was going to be some kind of riddle that he didn't get.

"So? What's your plan, boss?" Ryoma asked Rantaro, hands in his pockets.

He pondered for a moment. "First off we should move as much food as we can to the dorms. It will be safer to eat here than in the dining hall."

Kirumi nodded. "Although for now, we should focus on searching at least one of our locks. We have a time limit for each of them."

"But... Do we separate or do we go in groups?" Miu asked.

Rantaro sat down to think. "There are nine of us. Since I think it's too dangerous to leave someone by themselves, I suggest we go by groups of 3 whenever we move from here."

"And our groups shouldn't change for the day so no one gets confused." Ryoma added.

... This clearly wasn't appreciated by some of them. Noticeably Kaito and Kokichi.

Tsumugi crossed her arms. "So? Who gets with who?"

"I suggest we separate Ryoma, you and I since we're probably the most qualified to detect the traps." Kirumi raised a hand. "One in each of the groups seems reasonable."

The prodigy nodded. "That is fair."

She took a few steps away, and so did Ryoma.

After some debating, the groups were made.

Rantaro, Ryoma, and Kaito were the first group.

Kirumi, Kokichi and Miu were the second.

And finally, Shuichi, Tsumugi, and Kiyo formed the last group.

"So now it's pretty much 'the first group finding all their morning locks gets the food'?" Tsumugi fiddled with her hair.

"For now, that is the plan. If we find each others' locks, we share the info however we can." Kiyo replied.

"Well, how do we even do that?" Miu tilted her head to the side. "If we're separated, we can't do anything."

Shuichi pondered. "The most we can do is yelling, I mean my hearing is pretty developed but there are limits to it..."

Ryoma fixed his beanie. "We'll only better our strategy if we face the danger at least once. Staying here won't do any good."

The others agreed.

The strategy was fixed.

The groups would go out one by one by intervals of five minutes to investigate where their lockers would be.

Kaito, Rantaro, and Ryoma left first. The others watched them go to see if everything was fine. They were walking slowly to make sure they didn't activate anything.

For now, everything seemed fine. But Shuichi preferred not to get his hopes up.

The two remaining groups talked about their riddles. They looked pretty strange.

"Hey, Kiyo... Do you have an idea of what my riddle could mean?" he asked the therapist.

"Let's see..." he took the violinist's monopad and read the two sentences. "I don't think your riddle is too far fetched. Does the color purple remind you of something nostalgic and positive?"

He pondered. "I... No, I don't think that's it."

Kiyo shook his head. "All theories could be right. Your riddle says to 'follow your heart'. Your answer could be right."

He looked at the tablet for a moment. "My... My cousin has lavender hair. And I do miss her."

Then it clicked. "Ah! My lab! That's where Miu made her portrait when we got the motive videos!"

Kiyo weakly smiled. "That sounds plausible. We will check your lab once we get to the main building."

Shuichi stared back at the tablet. "So was that the first or the second quote?"

The therapist shook his head. "I don't think one quote is for one lock. Both locks must be linked somehow."

"So the other lock is also hinted by the riddle?"

"I think so." Kiyo nodded. "Perhaps..."

He pointed at the second quote. "You found a potential solution with your intuition. So the second could be linked to your senses."

"My senses...? Something purple that could be linked to my senses?"

Hearing? No. His lab was already for one lock.

Taste? The only thing popping in his mind was that type of soda with a taste you could only describe as 'purple'. Which he didn't like in the slightest.

Touch? That would be unlikely...

Sight? Too vague...

Smell? That could be it since the riddle said 'lavender'. Perhaps...

"The wisterias from the courtyard? They're purple, right?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Does it remind you of something nostalgic?" Kiyo asked.

Shuichi weakly chuckled. "My cousin always had two long braids. Somehow it always reminded me of those flowers..."

Kiyo put a finger on his chin. "So both of your locks are related to one person. To me, we are on the right path."

Just as they stopped talking, Kirumi's group was prepared to go.

Well, Miu and Kirumi were prepared to go. Kokichi was barely keeping up.

The two girls made sure the smaller boy was following when they left, nervousness written all over their faces.

The three ones left in the dorms looked at each other.

"So, did you two find out where your locks could be?" the prodigy asked.

"I'm guessing one is in my lab, and the other should be at the pool." the therapist replied.

Tsumugi nodded. "Good, good. And you?" she turned to Shuichi.

"Oh, um... I think one is near the wisterias and the other should be in my lab as well..."

She frowned. "Three in a row."

"Huh?"

"All of us have a lock in our respective labs. I'm thinking Monokuma put them here as some sort of guide for the first day. The next days are probably going to get harder and harder."

... What did 'harder' mean?

"What about you, then?" Kiyo asked.

"One should be in my lab. The other in the library."

The therapist nodded. "I see. Do you have a strategy for which places we check?"

She started pacing around slowly. "We have both of them in the main building except Shuichi who has one in front of the dorms."

She stopped. "For now we are also requested to help to transport food to the dorms, but there's a possibility the other groups will be done with the locks before us. So I think we should go to the ones that are not in our labs." She narrowed her eyes. "Although for the next days we should find out the locks' locations before forming the groups."

They nodded.

Enough time had passed since the last group left, so they decided to go as well.

They reached the wisterias with no problem, and a black podium with an icon was indeed there.

Before they could go under the pergola, Tsumugi glanced at the structure. She took off her jacket and threw it on the table. Spikes suddenly rose from above, impaling the piece of cloth before it could reach the table.

"... We'll have to find ways to activate traps in advance. We won't use my jacket each time. The tennis balls were pretty effective." the prodigy picked up the jacket from the floor where it had fallen.

The three made their way to the podium, which had Shuichi's icon on it. A red LED was on, indicating that the violinist had not yet activated it.

After taking out the Sanzu key and approaching it to the icon, a small jingle rang, with the LED turning green.

At least the 'paying' process was easy.

"Next up is mine, at the pool." Kiyo turned to the two.

Surprisingly, their way to the main building was quite silent. 

Perhaps the paths outside were never trapped, and it was only the main structures?

Kiyo carefully opened the door.

A black podium was right beside the deckchairs.

He glanced around to see if there were any traps, and carefully approached the podium. After the small jingle rang, he joined the others so they could move on.

Two out of three.

Something didn't feel right for Shuichi. That motive looked way too simple.

Would it be like Tsumugi said, that this was going to get harder and harder with time?

They left the pool and approached the door to the main building.

When they opened it, Shuichi took a step and immediately stopped when an arrow was shot right in front of his face.

"Ah!-"

He took a step backwards and touched the bridge of his nose.

Pecks of blood tainted his fingers.

"Are you okay, Shuichi?" Kiyo asked, worried.

He turned to the therapist. "I'm- I'm fine, this just surprised me. Perhaps we should crouch to pass this door."

He rubbed his nose with his wrist. The wound was pretty light, but it still stung.

The three made their way to the central hall, luckily not activating any more traps.

"Now let's go to the basement. Once we're done with the library we'll be free for now." Tsumugi declared.

They slowly went to the corridor leading to the stairs, until...

*click*

They stopped and looked at their feet.

Kiyo had just stepped onto a pressure plate.

Shuichi's heart skipped a beat when a wall of concrete came down from the ceiling behind them, crushing the grass on the floor.

Then another. And another.

They ran as fast as they could to the stairs, walls menacing to crush them if they were not fast enough.

The trio tripped, fell down the stairs and crashed against the wall.

"Ouch..."

"At least we're alive."

"Even though Monokuma said those traps were not going to kill us we almost ended up crushed."

"Could you two move? I can't breathe..."

"Tsumugi is on top of me, I cannot move either."

The prodigy stood up, brushing dust off her skirt. "I thought you two would be physically stronger than that."

Shuichi could barely mutter under Kiyo's weight. "Well, I'm a violinist, not a biker nor a soldier..."

The therapist stood up and helped Shuichi get on his feet.

Just as the three recovered from their fall, Rantaro's group appeared.

The medic blinked a few times in confusion. "Are you three okay?"

Shuichi rubbed the bridge of his nose to wipe off the rest of the blood from earlier. "We're fine. It could be worse."

Ryoma appeared from behind. "Tsumugi, there's a lock for you in the library. We deactivated the trap here so don't worry about anything."

"I guessed it from my riddle, but thank you."

Kaito was also there but did not seem to want to contribute to the conversation.

"Anyway, our group is done with the morning locks. We'll be getting the food." Rantaro cracked his knuckles.

Kiyo pondered. "Our group only has one more morning lock to activate. We'll be able to join you shortly."

"In that case, we should go to your lab, Rantaro." Ryoma crossed his arms. "We'll need medical supplies in case someone gets injured."

The medic nodded. "Sounds good. So you three can bring the food in the meantime?" he turned to Kiyo.

"Count on us."

The two groups separated. The concrete walls were gone- they were made to make them hurry, not to lock them in the basement, fortunately.

Just as Ryoma said, the trap was deactivated in the library. It seemed to have made some of the bookshelves fall. Tsumugi's lock was right in front of a table.

The jingle rang as she approached her key.

They left the basement to get to the dining hall. No one seemed to have gone there yet.

Shuichi approached the pantry but suddenly...

The floor disappeared beneath his feet.

Kiyo thankfully caught his arm before he could fall.

Don't look down don't look down don't look down don't look down-

"T-Thanks a lot, Kiyo..." he mumbled.

The two others helped him up.

He sat on the ground for a minute, trying to calm down.

How deep was that hole?

"Tch. I knew something would happen." Tsumugi quietly spat.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Kiyo narrowed his eyes at her.

"Excuse me if I don't express every single intuition I have."

"We're in a situation where we could die instantly. Every single intuition could save a life."

"It could also make us paranoid for nothing. You should know as a therapist that paranoia could also kill us."

"I prefer to be paranoid over careless."

Shuichi knew that is he didn't stop them they could argue for hours.

"Guys! Please..." he stood up despite his feet trembling. "I'm fine. Let's just... Get the food."

The two exchanged glances and stepped in the pantry, avoiding the giant hole in the ground.

"We don't have a refrigerator in the dorms, so we'll have to take durable food." Tsumugi noted.

"We have access to drinkable water in the dorms, I don't think drinks will be necessary." Shuichi added.

Tsumugi looked around. "We don't have any bags. And my jacket is too small to make a substitute.

Shuichi thought back at when Himiko and Kokichi here going to the dorms using their jackets as bags for objects they won at the monomono machine. But...

The astronomer wasn't here anymore. He had to accept it.

He shook his head. "That's better than nothing. I still have my own just in case."

"And mine." Kiyo added.

"Also, perhaps we should take cutlery. To eat and to serve as a decoy for the traps." Tsumugi suggested.

The three started taking food. Mostly canned food since it was the safest option.

Shuichi had suggested taking rice and other starchy foods, but since there was no way to cook them in the dorms, the idea was rejected.

Shortly after, Kirumi, Miu, and Kokichi joined them.

"It's nice to take food that doesn't expire soon, but we should take food that doesn't take much space." Kirumi explained. "We will not go in this building too much, so we'll have to take as much as we possibly can." 

Miu pondered for a second. "How about we use kitchen furniture to transport food? That's two in one!"

Tsumugi perked up. "I didn't think about that."

"However the kitchen furniture will be useless to us since we do not have anything to cook food." Kiyo advised.

"But that's still better than using our jackets to transport food... And perhaps we'll find a way to cook." Shuichi countered.

"Then the pots will be the best for both cooking and transport." Tsumugi declared.

The 6 of them took time to choose which food to take. Canned food, rice, noodles, dry food but also some fruits. They took enough cutlery for both the group and to use it as a trap decoy.

They left the dining hall with all the furniture.

Shuichi hoped they wouldn't have to run with that much in their hands.

Miu looked at the pot she was transporting, full of fruits. "We said we would take the pots but any idea on what to use to cook? We know there's no lighter or some kind of portable stove..."

Tsumugi pondered. "We have the candles on the fourth floor and wood in Angie's lab. But that will require maintenance."

"I believe there are tools to keep the fire alive in my lab since there is a fireplace. We should take a look this afternoon." Kiyo suggested.

"That sounds fair to m-" Tsumugi interrupted herself when she heard a click.

A series of needles was shot from the walls on the group, stabbing each of them in all places.

They ran as fast as they could to get out of the building. Shuichi is pretty sure some of the food fell on the floor, but now was not the time to retrieve it.

His cheeks hurt.

They pushed the door to get out of the building.

Shuichi heard a loud noise, of someone falling to the ground.

When he turned around, his eyes widened.

Miu was less covered than the majority of them. She only had a crop top and a short overall. The needles did much more damage on her than on the others.

She wasn't bleeding, but there were way too many of them, on her arms, legs, and even her face.

"Miu!!" he kneeled before her. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I-I'm fine. D-Don't worry about me." she stuttered.

Everyone took off the needles that stuck on their bodies, Shuichi helping Miu get hers off.

Kiyo helped her getting up. "Rantaro's group went on the third floor for medical supplies. He'll help you once they come back."

She weakly nodded.

Kirumi had taken Kiyo's pot so he could help Miu walk.

Fortunately, no more traps activated on their way to the dorms.

When they opened the door, they realized Rantaro's group was already there, organizing the medical supplies.

The medic rushed to the group. "Are you guys okay?"

"We activated a trap and Miu ended up getting more injured than us. She needs your help, Rantaro." Kiyo explained.

The group organized the food and cutlery, except for Miu and Rantaro, the latter disinfecting the former's wounds.

Kirumi prepared lunch with Ryoma since Miu was unable to do anything. Shuichi hadn't realized they took that long to activate a few locks and transport food. But at least they had enough for the day, and perhaps the day after if they managed to save enough.

For some reason, Rantaro, Ryoma, Kirumi, and Kokichi already seemed to be used to be light on food, considering how little they ate.

The group ate in silence on the floor of the dorms. Canned food was not the tastiest, especially considering what Kirumi and Miu could usually cook, but they didn't have a choice.

This motive was already starting to get the better of them. Would they even be able to continue like this for long? Long enough for Monokuma to perhaps get bored and stop the motive?

Since there wasn't much to do, everyone either stayed in their rooms or talked in the lobby.

Shuichi was already tired from the morning, so he laid on his bed for the time being.

They could only use the locks after 3 PM. Monokuma already knew they would be going to rush and unlock both if he didn't add the rule.

He thought about the situation. They were surprisingly organized.

Surprising...

Was it, though?

Their group had two soldiers, a mercenary, an intellectual genius, and a therapist to help them get organized.

They were teenagers more mature than any normal person their age.

A maturity that came from the harshness of their past.

The fact that they were able to get organized so well...

... That was definitely not surprising.

-

At around 2:50 PM, he left his room to join the others. (The others being: Kirumi and Rantaro).

He only noticed after that Ryoma was knocking on Tsumugi's door.

"Um... Is everything alright?" the violinist asked the two.

"Well, we're trying to think about how the traps work, and that's why we need Tsumugi." Kirumi explained.

Speaking of which, the prodigy joined them with Ryoma.

"We need your opinion on this, Tsumugi." Rantaro looked serious.

"I'm listening."

Kirumi crossed her arms. "We're saying that the more we are in a group, the higher are the chances of activating a trap, and possibly a huge one."

She pondered for a second. "From the traps we activated, I think that could be true. The needles were quite ferocious, even if they didn't look like it."

She perked up. "You're saying we should try to go individually and not by groups?"

Shuichi blinked. "Go individually? Isn't there a risk we could get injured without being able to be helped?"

Rantaro nervously bounced his leg. "I've inspected Miu's injuries earlier. This was not pretty to look at. I'm the only one who can treat serious wounds, so I have to admit going separately would be safer."

So the opposite strategy from earlier.

But if that was the best strategy, then it could be for the best.

...

Shuichi wished he could be as smart and strong as them.

-

At 3:00 PM, the others came out of their rooms.

After a short explanation, they decided to go by groups of two, even though they would separate at some point.

They also decided that those on the fourth floor would bring candles and wood, and Kiyo would get the tools for the fire.

Kirumi and Ryoma went first.

Then Rantaro and Kaito.

Tsumugi went alone.

Then it was Shuichi and Kiyo's turn. They wished Miu and Kokichi good luck and left.

"... I'm still nervous about this strategy." Shuichi admitted.

"For now it's for the best. This is the first day, we will decide which strategy is the best for tomorrow." Kiyo replied. "However we can go together with a distance between us so we do not activate unnecessary traps."

Shuichi smiled. "If it doesn't bother you of course."

"At the sole condition that you help me carry the tools from the fireplace."

He chuckled. "Alright. I accept."

They reached the building, and Shuichi crouched to enter the entrance hall. Perhaps the arrow trap wasn't there anymore, but he preferred not to take a risk.

The walk to the second floor was silent and surprisingly peaceful. They avoided a few traps in the corridors, going one after the other.

This strategy seemed to work.

The fewer people were together, the lower are the chances to activate a trap.

...

Monokuma wanted to separate them. Even Shuichi realized that.

The violinist entered his lab and activated the locker.

He sighed in relief. At least this was over for now.

Just as he stepped out of the lab, he joined back Kiyo, who was waiting for him near the stairs to the third floor.

"So, was your lock in your lab?" he asked.

"Yes, I managed to activate it." Shuichi nodded. "Thank you for helping me this morning."

The two made their way to the fifth floor.

...

This was too silent. Something was wrong.

"Are you coming, Shuichi?" Kiyo asked when he saw that Shuichi slowed down.

"Ah yes I'm..." he trailed off when he heard a faint noise. A voice?

He paused to focus.

"Shuichi?-"

"Shhh!" he raised a hand to ask him to be quiet.

There was a voice. It was definitely a voice.

Wait-

It was not a voice. It was several unfamiliar voices.

Kiyo raised an eyebrow.

...

Something wasn't right.

He walked down the upper set of stairs since the voices were definitely below them- on the fourth floor.

Kiyo followed him.

He could barely hear anything, but voices were coming from somewhere, he was sure of it.

"..."

"... -where... ... stops-"

"..."

"... Rats..."

"..."

"... Rats..."

"..."

"... Rats... Rats... Rats..."

Shuichi had a very bad feeling.

He stepped forward to go down the other set of stairs...

... But stopped when he heard a blood curling scream. Not a scream of pain. A scream of pure terror.

And by the pitch of the voice, it was...

"... Kokichi?" he instinctively muttered.

The violinist and the therapist exchanged quick glances.

Shuichi panicked.

He ran.

He didn't even care if a trap activated. He knew where the voices were from. Where the scream came from.

He ran through the fourth floor despite Kiyo telling him to stop.

The voices were louder and louder as he ran.

Some were talking and panicking. Some were repeating the same word over and over.

"Rats."

"They're everywhere- Someone just kill them!"

"Rats. Rats."

"Stay away from me!"

"Rats. Rats. Rats. Rats."

"God please have mercy on our souls- There's no God! We're going to die like rats!"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats"

"I- I think I'm infected too- STAY AWAY FROM ME!!"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats"

"WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS??"

"Ratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsratsrats-"

Suddenly the voices stopped all at once.

Shuichi entered the corridor leading to Kokichi's lab. A second door had shut down, eliminating every possibility of entering the lab.

"Kokichi!! Kokichi!!!!"

... Nothing.

Kiyo joined him, his monopad in hand. "Kokichi isn't the only one in here."

He looked at the therapist.

"Miu is here as well."

Shuichi kept slamming the door with his fist.

"Kokichi!! Miu!! Say something!!"

No one was answering. The second door was soundproofing the lab. Which was why the voices had 'stopped'.

They didn't stop, they were just contained in the lab.

Shuichi couldn't hear Miu and Kokichi, and neither of them could hear Shuichi banging at the door.

"Miu!! Kokichi!!!"

... This was hopeless.

He thought back at what Monokuma said earlier.

“... Some rooms will lock themselves to whisper your worst fears to you.”

That was what he meant.

He meant psychological torture.

Shuichi and Kiyo would only wait, powerless over the situation.

The violinist fell on his knees.

Just the thought made him want to puke.

Kokichi and Miu were stuck in a room made for psychological torture.

And they had no way of getting out.

[whumpster-fire]

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi posted this awesome prompt about slicing a merfolk’s finger webbing, which inspired me to do this. I’m crediting by link-back instead of reblogging because this is technically minor whump and I don’t know whether you’re comfortable with, like, having that as a direct reply to your post or what the best etiquette for crediting inspiration is. I apologize if I’m doing this wrong!

Anyway, I’ve been on a dragon kick lately so I wrote about dragons instead of mers.

Dragon Fun Fact: If a dragon’s wings look like this, it won’t be able to fly!

It would be simply awful if some person or persons were to do this to a dragon. It would be a shame. I cannot endorse mutilating a sapient being in such a cruel and inhumane way. Especially not if it’s just a little wyrmling. Sure, it’s a powerful, dangerous, intelligent creature, not like a defenseless human child, but it’s still the equivalent of a child, and it would be wrong to -

Wait... did you say it’s a chromatic dragon?

Oh. My mistake. Never mind, it’s fine, the little bastard deserves it. That’s what it gets for stealing sheep, and robbing travelers, and starting that forest fire that ended up spreading and destroying people’s homes and livelihoods. The one survivor of the last party of militiamen that went up into the mountains to try to stop it said after they wounded it it burned the whole forest around them out of sheer spite. Even cut off their escape routes, trapped them downwind of the flames. Dragons are spiteful, ruthless, vicious. The damned thing even enslaved that entire goblin tribe, made it do their dirty work and give them treasure so it wouldn’t eat them - not that gobbos are innocent either, that’s why they weren’t given any mercy, can’t have them living in the woods raiding the villages either - but it’s the principal of the thing.

CW for: Monster whump, minor whump, fantastic racism, torture, mutilation, wing whump, sickness, poisoning, emeto, child abuse/death mention, execution, ambiguous ending.

Evil, cruel, vicious, greedy monsters. The avarice of a dragon is legendary. You know, they found enough gold and silver in its cave to buy the whole town twice times over - just hoarding all that wealth even though it had no use for it. Now it’s back in the right hands: by law after expenses one third goes to the crown, one sixth to the Duke, and one twelfth each to the Baron, the Lord Mayor, and the Church’s tithe, and the rest is divided among the soldiers with a double share going to the families of the ones the beast killed. Hopefully they spend it on better arms and armor, there’s another peasant revolt a few days away - something about the taxes being too high and the levies for the war - you know how these frontier towns are, never grateful for being protected.

Good men died fighting that dragon - family men, with wives and kids back home to feed. Hell, some of ‘em were barely boys, so no kids, just mothers and fathers and sweethearts. Look - I know I mentioned the levies but don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not like the crown’s just sending people’s sons off to die against their will. Mostly it’s second and third sons joining up. You know how it is, no inheritance, so they sign up to make their fortunes or die trying - and dragon slaying does pay well - it’s like being in the first wave through the breach in a siege, if you’re brave enough to face that monster and lucky enough to live to tell about it, you can buy yourself a good few acres, enough for a hardworking man who’s still got all his limbs to make a comfortable living for life. Or it’ll pay for a few full nights at a brothel.

But dragons aren’t like that: they don’t care for their own like humans do. If a female’s already got a full nest of mouths to feed and there’s more eggs coming they’ll just lay them someplace out of the way and forget about them - or sometimes they’ll keep some of them but leave the runts to fend for themselves. Or if a stronger male moves in on her terf she’ll chase the youngsters away since the males’ll kill ones that aren’t their own... yes, yes, I know about John’s stepdad - sorry John. But I have to stress that that’s extremely unusual in humans - really, you too Rob? I’m so sorry, I never knew. Oh - and Derek? Your sister? Really? Oh, Gods... anyway, I was talking about dragons. Heartless creatures. Disgusting. This one was probably abandoned, luckily.

Don’t feel sorry for it, though. Dragons are self-sufficient. They’re deadly from the day they hatch, their hearts as cold and ruthless as their flames are hot. And they’re crafty, too. It’s been pretending to cry out for its mother. Bluffing. Trying to act like there’s a greater threat. But most of the soldiers don’t know a word of their language, and the ones who do are smart enough to know you can’t trust a damn word a dragon says. No one’s coming to save it.

You can’t trust a dragon. Not a chromatic, especially not a Red. It doesn’t matter if it’s begging for its life – that makes it even more dangerous. A dragon always avenges every slight, every defeat, every humiliation. If you let it go it’ll come back and burn the whole damn town to the ground. If it gets away and survives and grows up it’ll always remember. It’ll track you down – it’ll track your children, your grandchildren down and kill them in their sleep if they inherit so much as one wretched piece of silver from its hoard. That’s how greedy, how possessive, a dragon is. It’s not a child, it’s a monster. It’s lucky that it took the bait of going after the poisoned meat. Dragons are smart, but they’re arrogant, they don’t think anyone else could possibly outsmart them, and they love to prove how superior they are. That’s their downfall.

And it was a really clever strategy by the baron, you see. Declare that he’s having a grand feast in honor of the dragonslayers’ arrival, and that anyone poaching the prize lambs chosen for his table will be put to death – put them in a locked barn with armed guards and all. Now a grown dragon probably wouldn’t fall for that but an arrogant wyrmling? It could hardly resist! The guards shoot a few arrows but they run off for reinforcements as soon as the dragon attacks them, but by then it’s already made off with one lamb and torched the rest. And the poison’s clever too – a new concoction the royal alchemists came up with. It’s harmless to humans, but when it’s exposed to a firedrake’s stronger body heat it activates.

Mind you the poison was supposed to kill it, not just make it sick, but it did weaken it enough that it couldn’t fly, although it still put up a hell of a fight. Bloody fiend killed four men before they got it in the net, three more wish they’d been among the four. It’s a monster, a savage. After what it’s done – well, a human who murdered royal soldiers wouldn’t get a quick, clean death either. But seeing it just flapping around trying to fly was what gave them the idea.

The dragon deserves to have its wings sliced to bloody ribbons. It deserves to be bound in chains and muzzled so it can’t breathe fire, and dragged through the town square on horseback and left chained up for a bit while the townsfolk throw stones at it. It deserves to be starved until it’s desperate enough to choke down rotten meat – dragonfire doesn’t really cook things too thoroughly, just chars the outside, and if it’s bad enough even a dragon can’t stomach it. Think of all those farmers who can’t put food on the table because of it. Think of those soldiers who’ll be begging for scraps after their share of the loot runs out. It deserves to have the townsfolk laugh at the so called powerful, superior being while it pukes its guts out like some stray cat that’s eaten a three-day-old fish head.

Dragons are sadistic. They’re cruel. They toy with their prey, they revel in the pain and suffering of other beings that they, in their hubris, think are better than them. That’s why it’s so satisfying to see one put in its place, brought down to the level of us “lowly” humans. I once heard of a dragon that kidnapped a woman for ransom, but she begged and cried to go home so much that the dragon got so annoyed it changed its mind. It promised her it’d take her right back to her own cottage, and true to its word, it flew her there… and dropped her on it from the Gods know how high in the air. The guy who told my the story says she hit the chimney dead on, and one of her legs and a few organs he didn’t look close enough to identify ended up in the fireplace. That’s why I keep saying you can never trust a dragon. You can’t trust it when it says it just wants to go home. The sleeping potion’s not all the way worn off yet, perhaps it hasn’t realized where it is. I suppose it deserves some credit for picking up so much of our tongue so fast.

See, we’re true to our word. This may not be its lair – only a fool would let a dragon go back there – but we let it go free, right there on the mountaintop where a sharp-eyed shepherd first saw it looking down on him. Like it was so superior for getting up there with its wings. Now let’s see how the blighter likes being up there! It’s sheer cliffs all around, at least a thousand feet down. That’s why it probably chose that perch, it’s a nightmare getting up or down without wings – or without the rope bridge made to get it up there – now burned. Reds are superb climbers of course, but that’s when they’ve got their wings as a safety net. Look it pacing around, right up to the ledge and looking down. Cowardly. Pathetic. Not so brave with its wings ruined. Not so brave with no way to save itself if it slips and falls.

It’s cold and windy up there. There’s no trees, no caves, no shelter from the damp and the chill and the mountain winds. Dragons might have fire in their hearts, but for the little young ones it’s not a strong flame. If it’s cold enough, even they’ll feel it. There’s no food, no water. Not that it could probably keep it down now anyhow. It could try it’s luck but it’s already half-starved, weak, and still sick as a flea-ridden dog in a plague pit. It can still be heard crying for help, but no one is coming to save it.

The Crown’s Army and the Royal Dragonslayers’ Guild highly recommends slicing a dragon’s wings to tattered ruins. A dragon that can’t fly is helpless. It can’t climb down a sheer, slippery cliff, or out of a deep, dark, damp well knee-deep in cold, muddy water. Dragons are cowards. Especially if you get ‘em while they’re young. And the dragon deserves this. If it’s the wrong color of dragon, that is.

The Royal Dragonslayers’ Guild would like to remind the reader that by order of the King, any man, woman, child, or any other subject of the Crown not covered by those categories, who spares a dragon’s life or offers aid or comfort to a dragon, is a traitor and shall be punished by death.

~~~

A/N: I love D&D, but my god I can’t stand the whole trope where entire species of sentient creatures are inherently evil and okay to indiscriminately slaughter, even the children. Like, if it’s literal demons or undead or eldritch horrors that consider humanity as important as insects or bacteria, sure, but when it’s creatures that are in any way “natural” and they’re just evil with no more justification than “Uhh... the gods did it?” or something, I don’t like that.

On the other hand, in-universe application of this trope is amazing. I seriously cannot get enough of sad monster whumpees being persecuted by ignorant humans.

If I think about it, dragons are the epitome of this, though, since there are stats for every age category. I can’t think of any other iconic D&D monsters like this, aside from things like mind flayers that have distinct larval stages. There’s a lot of “Oh, here’s a bigger, older version of the same monster” but generally the stats are only given for adults. Sure, the players massacring orc or goblin children may well be a possibility, but the game doesn’t devote page space in the Monster Manual to describing exactly how many hit points an orc toddler has. Dragons are specifically and intentionally designed to let the players kill their babies.

But hey, the motto is: “If it has stats, the PCs can kill it.” My motto is: “If it has stats, I can ignore those stats, especially the annoying ones like climb speed and immunity to nonlethal damage from cold etc. and especially ignore the ‘Alignment’ section.

[poyomon2]

let's play "Sentence prompts": #26 for Angelmaker, pretty, pretty please :> (and may I request big fluff with it? only if it's okay... !)

I should probably post this one shouldn’t I. It’s been forever. Probably not as fluffy as I’d like but I tried!

26. “Did I just say that?”

The crack of thunder shook the two of them out of their focus on their schoolwork, making them both look up in surprise.

Rain was coming down in sheets, causing muddy rivers to flow down the various paths of the park. 

Aoi stood up from her side of the table set, walking to the edge of the gazebo. “When did it start raining?” She asked, looking back in Yusaku’s direction.

He shrugged. He wasn’t sure either. He began to pack up the various books and materials they had, stacking them into a pile, before joining her at the edge.

He peered at the sky, frowning. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon.”

Aoi groaned. “Of course not. Just our luck. My place is too far from here to make it in any reasonable amount of time.”

Yusaku pondered the distances for a moment, then nodded. “My apartment isn’t too far from here, and if I’m remembering correctly, there’s a store along the way we can buy an umbrella at.”

Aoi hummed. “Are you sure? You’ve never wanted me to visit in the past.”

“That was-” before it stopped mattering whether or not she knew he was Playmaker. He still hadn’t told her.

He recognised the reason for what it was, though. A flimsy excuse. There wasn’t really anything in his apartment that could tip someone off to the fact that he was Playmaker. Especially now that Ai wasn’t around.

He knew, inside himself, that he just didn’t want to ruin her opinion of him. He didn’t know what she would think when she saw he lived in such a run-down place. He could tell he had budding feelings for her, but he didn’t want to mess anything up between them.

So he kept putting it off, telling himself that she could visit another day.

‘Another day’ had come, he supposed.

“Fujiki?”

He gave a start, realising she was still looking at him. Waiting for him to finish his sentence. He waved a hand. “Nevermind. It’s fine.”

He stared out into the rain, then turned and picked up the stack of books. “We should go before it gets worse.”

Aoi blinked, looking back and forth between him and the rain. “I don’t think it can.”

“It will, just for us.”

Then he ran out, moving between what little cover he could while sheltering the books from the rain, ignoring her call to wait for her.

She hurried after him, laughing slightly. “You could have let me carry some of the books!”

—

The two burst through the door, out of the rain, panting with exhaustion. The store hadn’t ended up having any umbrellas, so they were both soaking wet despite their best efforts.

They’d managed to keep the books from suffering any permanent damage, though, so that was good. 

“It’s better than outside, but it’s still cold.” Aoi commented.

“I’ve got a heater in my room. We’ll be going through to there.”

They passed several rooms, before coming upon a door which Yusaku opened, waving her in. Descending some stairs, she noticed that there wasn’t much in the room, aside from some basic furniture.

“Welcome home, master!” A cheerful voice greeted them, and Yusaku gave a tired, sad smile at the small robot at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m back, Roboppy. We’ve got a guest today.”

“A guest!” The small robot cheered, waving its arms in the air. Aoi giggled slightly, but stopped at its next words. “According to data from my previous iteration, it has been five hundred and twenty four days since anyone else stepped foot in your home! Congratulations!”

“Five hundred-” She began, but hesitated.

Yusaku gave a short, dull laugh. “Thanks, Roboppy. Please be silent while she’s here.”

“Understood!” The small robot moved to the corner, powering down with a happy tune.

Aoi paused on the stairs, looking at Yusaku’s back as he continued down them. He suddenly looked extremely tired.

“I can come back another time if you want.”

“It’s fine.” Yusaku set the books down on the table, leaning down to turn on a heater. Before long, the room had started to become warm enough for them to be comfortable.

Aoi put her books down, too, then they both sat down on the floor.

“Your parents aren’t home?” The moment the words left her mouth, she realised the apartment wasn’t big enough to comfortably support more than a single person, and winced.

As she expected, Yusaku’s eyes slid sideways and looked down at the floor. Her heart reached out to him as she instinctively knew what that reaction meant.

“Sorry.” She leaned forward and grabbed a hold of his hands. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“It’s fine. I never really knew them anyway.”

He stared at her hands holding his, giving a small smile, before shaking them off and reaching to remove his jacket. He placed it on the floor in front of the heater, then beckoned for her to do the same, so she did.

He pinched at his shirt, then looked at her. “I’m going to get another shirt to wear. Uh-” He hesitated. “Would you like to borrow one for the time being?”

“Ah, if you don’t mind.” She looked away to hide the slight red on her cheeks.

“Alright.” He walked back up the stairs, exiting the room and leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She regret agreeing to visit. She was a mess, her thoughts were a mess, and she didn’t really know how to interact with him. She didn’t think she could focus on the schoolwork anymore, either.

She sat down against the bed, contemplating what to do when he returned.

A few minutes passed, and she heard the door to the room open. Turning her head towards the sound, she got a face full of shirt as she heard the door close again.

She laughed under her breath at the action. He could have at least said something.

Nonetheless, she changed her shirt before calling that it was okay.

Yusaku tentatively stepped back into the room, descending the stairs once more. He threw his wet shirt down next to hers by the heater before sitting down near her.

“Should we do some of the work now?” He asked.

She looked down at the floor. “I don’t know. I can’t really focus now.”

“Oh.”

They fell silent.

Yusaku wasn’t sure what to make of the situation anymore. He’d invited her over for once in order to get the work done, but now they weren’t going to do it.

He felt comfortable, though. Having her around made him feel happier, and he realised how lonely it could be without someone else around. It was silent, but it was a nice kind of silent.

Now that he thought about it, compared to Takeru, or, if he had to, Naoki, he much preferred Aoi’s company instead.

He smiled quietly to himself, then glanced at Aoi.

He froze. She was staring at him with a blush on her face.

He blinked at her, confused for just a moment, then it hit him.

“Did I just say that?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Is there… a reason for that?”

He looked down at the floor as his face flushed red. “It’s just that- Shima is kind of obnoxious to be around most of the time, and Takeru doesn’t really stop talking for large stretches of time. You’re much quieter in comparison, which makes me feel a lot better instead. I don’t have to feel like I need to keep up with everything going on at once.”

She smiled at him, then shuffled over to sit closer. “Thanks.”

“And- I just feel comfortable around you. You don’t prod too much. Even now- you didn’t ask about what Roboppy said, nor about my parents.”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded, then leaned back to lie on the floor, turning onto his side. “Maybe I will another time. Sorry I keep so many secrets.”

“It’s fine! It was obvious you were, but it’s not my business.” She laid down facing him with a smile. “I can come around more often if you’d like.”

“That would be… nice…” He smiled back at her.

She extended her hand out to sit between them. He stared at it for a moment, then hesitantly reached his hand out to touch it, before grabbing hold of it lightly.

The sound of the rain began to lull them to sleep, both content with the other’s presence.

Aoi later had to stop herself from screaming her brother’s head off when she was woken up by his call.

[twi-sight2020]

Genesis

That’s how the book begins, with a quote from the Bible. And, I get it, it ties in with the forbidden fruit theme, a classic, if not a a bit overused, trope. Not a whole lot to unpack here, even with my Religion minor. And so we move forward to the preface. This I remember pretty damn well, Our narrator-Bella- though not yet named, muses on death and sacrifice. The movies do a good job incorporating it in BUT, they leave out my favorite line. ‘When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.” Just...damn. There are a lot of times when this book falls into the flowery language, no teen talks like this, trap, but this line...it makes the rest of it worth it...mostly. But chapter one, that’s when we really get to know Bella, and I develop a love hate relationship with her. I know we’re supposed to see her as selfless with her giving up her “Life in the sun” in favor of moving to Forks, just so her mother can be happy, but I can’t help but feel Bella relishes in being a martyr. Then again, maybe it’s just me being too far removed from being a teenager? I remember how everything that went wrong seemed like the end of the world back then. And moving is a challenge even when you’re an adult.  Of course, in chapter one, we don’t don’t have the full story of why Bella moved, only that her mom tells her she “doesn’t have to “ Bella “Lies” and says “She wants to.” And she describes it as an “exile.” it almost leads one to believe that their is some dark secret behind this, that Bella is moving because of something she did that is compelling her to move. But alas...no.... And then, then, she complains about it being too green. which, as an allergy sufferer, I do to, but Bella ....not exactly sure what her issue is other than it being different from home. But, she’s been here before so...*shrug* again, teenagers. However, before everyone begins to think all I’m going to do is harp on Bella, I do suddenly gain a moment of respect for her. She loves  her big ass truck. The thing most teenage girls would bitch and moan about, she embraces. And this, well this strikes a cord with me. When i was a kid , my great -grandfather used to drive me around in this HUGE diesel running monstrosity, and it remained basically my favorite thing for years. suddenly, I’m feeling a kinship with Bella I haven’t felt in a long while. Also, her appreciation of a non-hovering parent does not go unnoticed. I empathize, Bella, really I do. If only because I have a few relatives that are quite....overbearing? And I’m definitely a type that likes to be left alone to read or write, and sometimes wish I’d grown up around people that weren’t so, verbose. Charlie=best parent Bella being scared of Fork’s high school is amusing to me. I grew up in a small town, with a School that sounds suspiciously how the school is described. Of course, i live on the otherside of the country buuuuuut....it does rain a lot here...is incredibly green and mountainous.....yea I get it Bella. You can hate it all you want because i grew up in one of these places and...I couldn’t stand it either. Of course, then she goes back into teenage “Not like other girls” and “I don’t fit in” mode and I’m back to doing a deep sigh for a hot minute. I just have to keep reminding myself that ,yes, even I used to sit and stare in a mirror and feel like I was the only person in the universe who saw the world the way that I did. Melodramatic? Yes. Annoying? of course. But, there is something to be said about an author getting pretty into the mind of a teenager, flaws and all. Her first day of school starts out pretty slow, not  alot to say other than we realize that Bella has already read everything in the English curriculum and is not above getting her old essay to reuse. You know what, good on her! I like these small tidbits we get of personality  that the movies don’t give us. Like, Bella is Smart and yes, a bit shrewd. We get more of this in a few moments when Eric pulls his “You don’t look very tan and she retorts with “My mother is part albino” and notes that he doesn’t understand this and she;s worried that after a few months in town she’ll forget sarcasm. book Bella has a snarky side that the movies seem to have forgotten, and i had as well. Also, Bella hates trig,and that makes her basically me at all forms of math, rip me. And then, we get it, Lunch, The Cullen’s, EDWARD. I’m not gonna go all crazy on the descriptions and how they differ from the films, BUT....I do have a few notes.  -Jasper is described as taller but leaner than Emmett. Taller -Alice is supposed to be thin in the extreme - and, despite how beautiful they are, the Cullen’s are supposed to have shadows under their eyes. described as purplish and bruise like. That’s the thing the movies never quite conveyed. Yes the family is beautiful, but they are beautiful corpses. Incredibly “chalky” pale, circles under the eyes that Bella compares to one recovering from a broken nose. and features that are perfect and angular. I’m not trying to be morbid, but they truly look like beautifully made up corpses, beautiful, yes, but unsettling, inhuman. perfect but....imperfect in their perfection. Small note that Jessica’s first really bitchy moment isn’t so much of just ‘Edward is too good for anyone here” thought she has that to, but implying that Mr. and Mrs. Cullen’s kindness in taking in kids is lessened because she “Can’t have kids.’  Again, while the movies made her seem simply shallow, this also conveys that she’s got a true mean streak. Then the biology class, Edward is ....weird. That’s really the only was to describe it. And, though we know what his secret and problem is now, I can see how Bella would be baffled and bit concerned.  i do love this contrast with Mike and “He obviously  didn’t think I smelled bad.” I admit this got a laugh from me. I also had forgotten that Mile had also moved from out of state, and that the two bonded. And that he noticed how odd Eddie boy was acting. Yea, Subtly is not Edward’s game. Personally, if I have been Edward, i would have immediately faked sick and left the room, might have made less of a stir then glaring daggers at the girl, but...what do I know? Bella hates gym, another thing we have in common! Edward trying to change classes, sigh, oh boy Edward, if Forks school as anything like mine, you have the first like...four days of the semester to change. After that? Tough luck no matter how charming or handsome you are. Maybe , just maybe, you should have looked into homeschooling. I wasn’t particularly sure why Bella was fighting tears all the way home, was it because of Edward? Or just the over emotions of moving and starting a new school? Sidenote: Did anyone else find it weird that she literally started school the next DAY after moving? Like this flight and settling in and then BAM school? Just saying, all those changes at once are rough on a  well adjusted adult, much less a teenager. And that’s it, Intro and first chapter. I was going to do more, but....this  kinda turned out longer than I planned, tbh. And, since I’m on an all liquid diet for a medical procedure tomorrow, I’m more than a little tired. But, if I’m feeling better later I may try to get up chapter two.

[dangerwatson]

            SO, MS. WATSON. YOU WANNA MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

It’s ya girl Lin back on my ‘ let’s cry about a beautiful woman together ’ bs. Here’s MJ ! It’s long, but that’s to have all her relevant information in one place should you ( or me more than likely ) need to hit it up for future reference. I’m excited to have her here ya’ll.

BASICS.

Given / Birth Name : Mary Jane Watson Nickname / Preferred Name : MJ, Red Alias(es) : N/A Birthdate / Age : June 19th 1991 / Twenty - Seven Place of Birth : Montoursville, Pennsylvania Current Location : Little Italy, NYC Gender Identity : Cis Female Sexual / Romantic Orientation : Disaster Bisexual Ethnicity / Race / Cultural Heritage: African - American && German Marital Status : Single Occupation : Field Reporter && Political commentator for Weekly Review Religious Beliefs : Agnostic. Raised Christian.

CHARACTERISTICS.

Height : 5′8″ Weight : 135 Body Type / Build : Entirely Average. Could stand to go to the gym, but honestly who has that kind of time. Don’t compare her to fruit she hates that. Eye Color : Green  Hair Color / Texture : Auburn. Worn natural, 4b curls and all. Sometimes braided, sometimes weaved, sometimes in bantu knots or covered by headscarves. She’s very particular with her hair - touching it can and will lead to physical harm against the perpetrator if unwelcome. Recognizable Features / Scars : Big ol’ dimples and a slight cleft chin. Dusting of dark freckles across nose and chest. Speech Patterns / Accent : Has a deeper voice, boarding whisky worn. Because she’s moved around the majority of her childhood MJ has no discernible accent, giving her a modulated tone that’s perfect for clear annunciation across media platforms. Languages Spoken : English, French, ASL Powers / Skills / Abilities : No powers, however MJ has a nose for good stories, and tends to follow wherever they take her.  Overall Health : Good.

RELATIONSHIPS.

Order of Birth : Youngest Number of Siblings : 1 Father’s Status + Relationship : Phillip Watson, alive. An abusive alcoholic, former High School English teacher. No relationship amends have been made. Mother’s Status + Relationship : Madeline Watson nee Rains, deceased. A starry eyed dreamer, former actress turned stay at home mother. Left Phillip after he struck Gayle, bounced both children through various family members. Passed away shortly after from congenital heart failure exacerbated by stress and lack of access to treatment. Sibling Status + Relationship : Gayle Watson, older sister by almost five years. Unlike MJ, continued to have a relationship with their father. Married her schoolyard sweetheart and had two children. He divorced her around the same time MJ graduated high school, leaving both sisters ( and her nephews ) living under Aunt Anne’s roof. They’re nearly estranged. When she visits her aunt and nephews, both sisters make a point of keeping their conversations short -- if they happen at all. Loyalty / Affiliation : Outwardly neutral, though subject to change behind closed doors.

PERSONALITY.

MBTI : ESFJ Hobbies : Dancing. Doesn’t matter where, when, why or how. Catch her pulling an n*sync routine in her living room at 4 PM on a Tuesday. MJ also has a knack for exploration. There are a lot of ( read : free ) things to do around the city and magically finds them all. Who cares if you have no interest in the Fungi Festival, there are booths everywhere for a quick way to kill an afternoon. Tried needlework one afternoon, didn’t stick and now there’s an abomination of mutant looking cats hanging above her bathroom door. Bad Habits : Smoking. Fixing / hyper - focusing on her hair when uncomfortable or stressed. Jumping head first into the dating scene only to find out it’s the shallow end. Providing 20 second long fart sounds whenever someone asks “how are you?” Taking care of others before taking care of herself. Three Positive Traits : The silent Mom Friend. Allow me to explain : MJ is traditionally that bitch^tm making sure you get home okay after hanging out, she ensures your soul is as well nourished as your body. For all of her outward party-girl aesthetics and a forced mean girl perception on her by others, she makes sure her friends are in good headspaces. That they feel encouraged to follow their ambitions and ultimately celebrate every success no matter the size. It’s the type of selflessness that she’d wanted for herself growing up, so I’ve labeled it as her BEST trait. She’s incredibly outgoing. An extrovert through and through, getting her battery charged by being around people. It’s what makes her an attractive personality. When in a battle of small talk, MJ not only listens and remembers those small shared details but she knows how to keep the conversation going without making it seem like a chore. I love how in tune she is like that, girl vibes hard with new and old friends alike. Finally, MJ would make a professional bargain hunter blush. She grew up poor and as a direct result is extremely careful about what she’s doing with money. And yes, being financially responsible during these trying times as a Millennial trying to earn that bread is pretty much a given good quality. We all wish it wasn’t, but here we are. Three Negative Traits : MJ is stubborn to a fault. When she digs her heels into something it’s hard to get her to stop until a desired outcome is achieved ( or undesired, event depending ). While this is usually reworded as a positive asset —- being so DRIVEN and MOTIVATED —– that’s simply not the case with her. She’s lived through all consequences resulting from this inability to budge and none of the supposed rewards. Been fired from more jobs than she’d care to admit for telling former bosses where to shove unrealistic worker expectations, or coworkers where they can file passive aggressive bullpucky. She’s also incredibly stunted emotionally. As mentioned, she’s a silent Mom Friend, but reciprocation of her actions isn’t met with as much of an openness as one might expect. MJ keeps her feelings to herself, and it usually builds up until she suffers a full scale breakdown triggered by something mundane like … dropping a fry or seeing a lady bug stepped on. Decompressing is a word in her vocabulary, for sure, but it was easier to partake in as a 20 year old than as a near 30 year old with responsibilities and bills to pay. Picky puts it in palatable terms, but MJ knows what she likes and how she likes it. When she doesn’t, then she’ll quickly find a preference. In the meantime we’ll say she’s very particular about what styles she likes to wear, how her make up is, how her hair looks, and over all what image she’s presenting to a general public. It’s a habit she hasn’t been able to shake. Moral Alignment : Neutral Good

ASSOCIATIONS.

One Song : Dead and Lovely - Tom Waits One Quote / Piece of Art : “Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.” One Fear : Following the Watson Women path of horrible no good very bad mistakes and poor life decisions. One Strength : Persistence One Object : Breathe Right Nasal Strips One Place : May’s kitchen One Food : Garlic One Scent : Cinnamon. One Lucky Charm : Old tattered friendship bracelet

-----------------------

Pretty typical “American Dream !” 50′s family dynamic. Everyone looking great in their Sunday best photos, father with a steady job, stay at home mom to save on daycare, two daughters and a stray cat named Sir Stinkybottom.

Father started facing emotional breaking points brought about by lack of what he considered satisfactory income and inbound midlife crisis. Turned to drinking, ( turned into a right train wreck. )

Mary-Jane, Gayle and Maddie hopped from various family member’s couches to crash for a couple of weeks at a time during the separation process from Phillip.  This lasted a year.

Maddie passed away when MJ was around 10 and Gayle 15, Gayle instantly taking up the role of Mother Figure to MJ’s wild child foil. MJ maintains she doesn’t remember all that much about her mother while Gayle remembers everything and that becomes a point of contention. 

Father returns into their life. It’s messy, he eats away at their still developing ego’s like the cancerous human blob he’s chosen to become. Their Aunt Anna, who they live with, intervenes when she can.

Gayle gets the fuck outta there by marrying her high school sweetheart, moving to the midwest and popping out two adorable munchkins named Kevin and Thommy.

MJ has the pleasure of dealing with their dad alone for the next five years. Which she does by a little thing called home avoidance. Garners the reputation quickly as a party girl at Midtown, someone ready to go anywhere and everywhere at any time. 

Began solidly working around fifteen to help Anna out, sometimes in Diners, sometimes in retail. Her ability to sell her brand began early and honed with surgical precision during these years. All currently reflected across media platforms where she became a 2010 influencer ( and paid for little more than modeling ).

Started college at seventeen, typical move. Took 6 years for her to finish as she paid her way through without loans. The last thing MJ wanted when finally breaking out of Queens was a student dept choker. Graduated at 23 with a dual bachelors in journalism and political science.

Bounced between larger broadcasting industries for a few years as an underpaid intern before growing concerned by their lacking criteria. The burnout was real.

Tirelessly sought employment at her favorite ( but SMALL ) news agency. By luck of the draw she was screen tested and hired on for a slot as field reporter.  

She’s been with Weekly Review since. Now having two years under her belt ( still extremely Green in her industry ), she’s pushing for higher scope investigative journalist pieces. And for once, they’re not telling her no.

[lavenaaa]

My Journey With Deppression

17/8/2021

Introduction

I’m an introvert. I realize I have depression a few years ago because of my horrible mood swings and I cried most of the time without any reason. Most terribly, I had very frequent suicidal thoughts. But I never took any action because I hope it could go away by itself. I tend to hide my emotions and pretend I am okay all the time because I hate to spread out negative vibes to others. Whenever I know I am depressed, I would rather lock myself in the room until I am managed to hang up my “happy” face. At those time, frequent visit of depression is my daily life and I thought maybe this is just me, I get used to deal with all those pains. I never see any future in me, and I always wonder when will my life end. Today? Tomorrow? Or maybe next week? I don’t get interested in anything and I can’t feel any joy most of the time. I hate myself a lot and I am afraid to be left out. But luckily, I am smart enough to react the way people would expect so that I would get a real happy face in return. I know I seems pretty normal to everyone, including my parents. Sometimes, I tend to wonder whether I really suffer from depression. This continues until I went to college and I met my roommate, Ling. She is one of the main reasons that make me wrote this book.

As I continue college, I realize my depression gone worse. I struggle to perform well as I want to meet up to the good student expectations. I always have an urge to meet up other people’s expectation as that’s the only way I know to get a happy face in return. Until, I realize Ling also suffer from depression. As we get close, we realize a lot of similarity in each other and could really understand each other feelings. As time goes, I realize I am not alone and it can be treated. And this inspired me to get help – visit a psychiatrist. As a saying goes, in order to help others, you must know the way first and I wish I could do something.

In the psychiatric clinic, I was given a set of depression questionnaires to answer and interviewed by the psychiatrist as part of through psychological assessment. The psychiatrist confirmed the depression with anxiety, and I was not surprised with the diagnosis, in fact I feel relieve to know an answer.  This is because even though I realize about my symptoms, I still really wonder whether I suffer from depression. I’ve doubts, plenty of it – I keep thinking that it’s just me instead of depression. I feel very confused, lost and of course, depressed. There are times that I break down and cry. I feel like I’m at a crossroads, not knowing what to do and how to get out of this depressive “shell”.

This is certainly a very challenging assignment as it is painful to write down the stormy journey of depression. My tears flow like a river; my heart oozes with “blood” of sadness. After every page of the journey, I got to make effort to sooth myself.

Nevertheless, I’ve got no regret in taking up this challenge. I now know that I’m not alone; there are many others with similar experiences. I hope that my sharing can help others to have a better understanding of depression. May you be at peace with your depression, able to cope with it and move on meaningfully with life. Last but not least, thank you for your interest and time spent reading my journey.

 1.Hopeless

They are like shadow, always sticking around.

When I’ve relapse of depression, I felt completely hopeless and useless. Feeling frustrated, I wonder why my life has to be this way. What is the point living if I’m going to feel terrible like this repeatedly?!

 2.Useless

Why am I even existed?

I feel I am so useless. I’ve disappointed so many people in my life. Why is life so hard? Whenever I thought about my divorced parent, I would blame myself as the cause of the divorced. If I was cleverer, if only I was behaving better, I am just a bad luck. I am completely useless! 100% useless! – no doubt about that. I often tell myself. I hate myself so much.

 3.Guilt I’m not a good people.

Sometimes, my mood swinging terribly and I needed a quiet moment for myself. As usual, I hid myself in the room. That one day, my sister came in and talked to me. Like a mad girl, I lost completely and yell her out of my room. My sister was frightened by my inexplicable behavior. After I calm down, I felt extremely guilty about my own behavior. What is use that I have read lots of books about self-control.

 4.Burden

I always feel like a burden to my family and my close friends. Everyone is busy with their lives. How much patience and tolerance can they have for me? Deep down inside my heart, I know nobody is interested and patient enough to listen to problems over and over again. In fact, I don’t think anyone can really understand my feelings. Sometimes, I can’t even understand and tolerate myself. I feel frustrated and fed-up with myself when I’m not be able to cope with my negative emotions. I really hate to be a negative spreader. Several times, I was thinking of ending my life so that I don’t have to burden those people whom I care about. Maybe they will feel sad but at the same time relieved. I’ll feel relieve too. Right?

 5.Gloomy evening

I love quiet gloomy weather, as I feel like the world could understand me. Gloomy weather makes me feel connected. Unlike the full spirit energy with the sun, I felt pain as its hard for me to be as motivated and energetic like people around me. Gloomy weather allows shadows of hopelessness, helplessness, loneliness, listlessness to haunt me. It’s a time for battling with depressive and anxiety storms. When that happens, I’ll normally lock myself in and cry profusely. Yes, crying does help to release painful emotions. And crying along the sky allow me to feel less useless.

 6.Suicidal thoughts

Life is full of suffering and pain. Will ending my life be the end of pain? I have no future anyway... Whenever I think of ending my life, I feel sharp pains in my heart, like being stabbed with a knife repeatedly. My family will feel very sad when I’m no longer around. Will they?

 7.Selfharm

I know I’m not supposed to kill myself, but I have no idea what is the point to continue living without having the control power of my emotions and behaviors. Finally, I discovered a way to feel better. Instead of letting depression pain creep in, I choose to hurt myself emotionally willingly. This causes more painful mental torture of depression- I can’t stand it, I’m so helpless. “But, that’s better than ending my life”, I console myself.

 8.Struggle with medicine

The struggle with medicine is not from me but from my mom. Before I finally seek help from a psychiatrist, I’ve done thousands of researches about medicines and I clearly understand that the medicines are important and safe for me. No matter how many times I tried to explains to mom about the effectiveness of medicines, mom still feel very reluctant for me to take them. She is worried about potential side effects and she still refuse to accept I have depression. This causes a lot of stress for me and got me doubt that the medicines will work for me. I still sometimes doubt that I have depression, and think it may not work for me as I don’t have any depression. Maybe it’s a big mistake of wrong diagnosis. And other main reason is because of medical fee is quite a burden. My psychiatrist was kind enough to give me some discount. Soon I realize that medicines are not everything; but they are essential together with other treatments for depression. Such as family support, exercise, nutrition, spirituality, etc.

Medicines are not everything but they are very important.

 9. Not my True Self

In the first month of my medication, I don’t see any different in myself other than calmer in anxiety wise. My mind was full of negative thoughts as usual. As I am used to being depress for a few years. “We will add a new medication,” said my psychiatrist as I struggle about hope of healing. The new medication caused me to slept most of the time for a few days; I slept most of the time as my body needed time to adjust to the new medication. However, I also noticed that the new medication made me feel calmer. The mood was better with less negative thoughts. But I felt weird with my new self as I was used to the me with horrible feelings. I just felt numb. Not really become happier, but just less negative. That really prompted me to look into myself – Who am I?  Which is my true self? What is my purpose of life? What makes me happy?

  10.You are not alone

My depression symptoms are persistently for more than two weeks and it was affecting my daily life. Please seek for help from mental health professionals. Always remember that you’re not alone in coping depression. Depression symptoms includes depressed mood or crying spells, loss of interest or pleasure in most activities, sleeping too much or not able to sleep, slow thinking or movement that others can see, fatigue or low energy, feeling of worthlessness or inappropriate guilt, loss of concentration or indecisiveness and recurring thoughts of death or suicide, etc.

I’m blessed to choose to treat my depression. I feel less lonely these days as I’ve a group of supportive friends with me along this journey; some of them also have depression like me. We hold one another’s hand tightly as we overcome challenges and discover meaningful experience in life. In each battle with depression, I’m becoming stronger and stronger.

 11.New discoveries

Pulling weeds, I need to plant good seed too.

Recently, I had a new hobby – gardening. I started to plant various type of plants including snake plants and pumpkins. In the process of taking care of my plants, I think of a sentence- Mind is like a patch of garden. When my mind is full of weeds, I never bothered to pull out the weeds. Worse still, I “fertilized” them. That’s how I end up with depression and anxiety. Besides pulling out those weeds, I need to plant good seeds in my mind garden so that the flowers and fruit of happiness can grow. I did as advise but was impatient; I dug out all the seeds before they had a chance to sprout and grow.

I realize I tend to do a lot of good deeds like helping friends in all sort of problem and things that are conducive to healing of my depression like exercise, meditation, study about depression, etc. People compliment and thank me for what I do for them. But I still feel that I’m not good enough – I blame, criticize and find fault with myself. To avoid a depressive relapse, I got to constantly remind myself, “You are good enough.” Even though I always doubt myself, I remind myself whatever I’m doing is not perfect but good enough – keep it up and you’re on your way to recovery.

Everyone will respond differently when depression hit them. Depression is not by choice but respond is by choice. I know that I can’t depend on my medication. I’m responsible for my healing. Psychiatrist can only guide but not support me all the time.  

 12.Lets be friends

 Dear depression,

You ruined me by intruding my life. You create so many painful emotions and sufferings. Do you know how much I hate you? You have spoiled everything. Worse, you even introduce me your “friends” – hopelessness, helplessness, uselessness, loneliness, guilt and anxiety. They take turns to visit and torture me – it felt terrible! I’m frustrated and don’t know how to deal with you. I can only hug myself and let you torture me. I’m very sick of you, of us. In order to make a change, I have thought of a way – to be a friend to you. If I can’t beat you, at least allow me to make peace with you. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of you since the day we met each other. Sorry for being rude to you as I always chased you out from the door and treat you like a monster. Thank you for coming into my life. You make me stronger and wiser. Because of you, I learn that I need to love myself more. I can also share “our story” and “relationship” with others. I will welcome your visits and learn from you. I believe that everything happens for a good purpose. I might not find out the purpose for now, but I have faith that it’s just a matter of time that the understanding will unfold itself.

I’m sure you are my teacher that will guide me towards a more meaningful life. Who knows – because of you, I will have the chance and knowledge to help people with depression and other mental illness one day? Let’s march forward, transforming Depression into wisdom and compassion.

I’m grateful to have you with me in this life journey. You have given me an opportunity to see things in a different perspective, clearer and better.

“He who has a WHY to live can bear almost any HOW” - Friedrich Nietzsche

I love you, my dear depression.

 With love,

Lavena.

  13.What Depression benefits me?

1.      I’m more empathetic. I understand more about people with depression.

2.      Depression helps me to reprioritize my life

3.      I understand and accept that I can’t control everything in life

4.      I appreciate life more. I’m grateful that I’m alive

5.      I know who are the ones who really care for me

6.      I’m more kind to others.

7.      Depression is like a compass; It reminds me about self-care and focusing on what’s important in life.

8.      I have learned to be less serious and laugh at myself.

9.      I realize I’m not weak, in fact I’m stronger than I could imagine. If a person could survive from mental illness, this person could deal with anything in life.

Content of my book.

[stripesthesupervillain]

Questions from Kings

I was... I was going to make a shitpost. And then this happened, my first Batman fanfiction. This may have a few... implications. Nothing NSFW, but just warning you.

Summary: Whilst in the asylum, Jonathan notices something peculiar about Jervis that brings up several questions. He decided to get these answers through a game of chess, and while Jervis is more than willing to participate, he can’t help but wonder why Jonathan asks them in the first place.

Jonathan Crane quietly drummer his fingers along the small table in the recreation room, looking off to the side as he caught the tail end of a joke Harleen had made to the other inmates. From the way Harvey’s lips (or what was left of them) were upturned in a reluctant manner informed him it must have been one of her better attempts at humor. Another wheelchair joke, he assumed. Joker seemed to have a taste for them after paralyzing another one of the lesser inmates that looked at him funny. Fortunately, he wasn’t here today because of it; many of the patients weren’t here. After a recent breakout, many of the more dangerous convicts were forced to stay in their cells. It wasn’t that Jonathan wasn’t as dangerous as his peers, but it was just that he and Harvey caused a lot less trouble than the destructive natures of Pamela and Joker. Speaking of which, he was beginning to wonder if the same had happened to his acquaintance.

His eyes flicked up to the door for a swift moment, expecting to see the guards bring in the small-statured Englishman, but there was no such luck. Jonathan glanced back down at the chess board before him with a silent huff, preparing to be disappointed again. While giggly and excitable in nature, he knew Jervis could definitely cause a bit of a wreck when suffering from his delusions. It was a shame, really, as they had both been looking forward to playing a few games of chess before Joker would inevitably shove the pieces into someone’s socket. Of course, he could play a game against the Riddler, but what stable man with goals and aspirations would want to do that? Though, with as limited the time they had, he might just want to ask for the sake the few precious hours he had outside of his cell. However, there was another reason he so eagerly wanted the smaller male to appear; he had a few questions he would like answered.  

It had only been yesterday that the former doctor had noticed it. He couldn’t help but to scold himself internally; he had known the little Hatter for a decent period of time, and he’d only now noticed the sure subject of any doctor’s strict attention. Of course, despite how open he was to anything, it wasn’t like Jervis flaunted it around. He was always out to seek the camaraderie of others, not their pity.

It was yesterday that Joker, before being sent off to solitary confinement, asked the two for help setting up the (now missing) Monopoly houses into a small village on the floor. Why this village had so many hotels, he couldn’t answer, but Joker wanted it done before their free time was wasted. Jervis had been happy to help, rolling up his sleeves and collapsing onto the ground to get started. Jonathan preferred to watch, being sure to ask the clown what this was all for. It turns out the preparation was so he could recreate Godzilla starring Miss Dahl, the smallest of the inmates. Mary wasn’t too uncomfortable, it seemed, and once the Monopoly village was set up, she stomped around with a roar and flung them around, but to Joker’s crazed delight. Jervis watched in amusement, giving Mary a small round of applause and glancing up at his friend with a grin that showed off his large overbite. That’s when Jonathan noticed it.  

He’ll admit, he stared a little longer than he really should have, but he’ll blame it on the subtle surprise he felt at that moment. He wouldn’t have ever really expected to see such a thing at the moment. Had he not had the education and precise observation he did, he probably wouldn’t have even recognized it. With his background and experience, however, it was practically his job to recognize these sorts of things, and seeing Jervis with them caused a twinge within himself that he could only think to be unease. Of all the inmates with their psychological disorders, including himself, he would have never actually suspected the mad-as-a-hatter Mad Hatter to be capable of such a thing. Despite Jonathan himself having run the idea on his mind in his younger years, there was never an attempt at it, but he would sooner suspect Dahl, Harvey, or even Harley before ever thinking Jervis capable. Well, “capable” didn’t seem to be the right term. The man never hesitated to deprive the guards of their free will; he was capable of practically anything just short of reaching the top shelf. “Willing” or “contemplative of” seemed to be more fitting.  

The smaller male had seemed to notice the larger’s stare rather quickly, giving a strained smile as he walked back to their table. Jonathan didn’t bring it up as they returned to their preferred pastime. He would need the time to think, as well as formulate a way of bringing the subject to light with his extensive knowledge of psychiatric methods and treatment.

And so now, here he waited. He silently wondered if his noticing the man’s afflictions had somehow sent Jervis off the deep end again. He wouldn’t doubt it, really; Tetch was about as predictable as, well, the Hatter.

A squeaking of the rusty hinges of the door was what caught his attention next. Crane sat up straighter upon watching Jervis be led through the door by two armed men in padded outfits and protective headgear. With the Mad Hatter involved, one had to be extremely cautious, no matter how harmless he looked. The lack of a wild reverie within the smaller man’s eyes was what told Jonathan he was on his medication, subduing the rumination of his Wonderland. That was a good thing, the professor supposed, as he would prefer Tetch to be focused instead of being dragged away early, shrieking his absurdities and how he didn’t want to be beheaded. Despite the pills used to calm his usual nature, Jervis still noticed Jonathan with glee and hurried over to the table, taking his usual seat. “Apologies for my tardiness,” he quickly hummed, setting up his side of the board. “Problems problems problems as usual. Let us not dilly dally. Black, I assume? You won last time, yes?” Crane gave a curt nod, straightening his pieces as he waited for the other to hurriedly set everything in place. It was time to set the treatment in motion.

“Understandable, Tetch. Now, before we start, I would like to play a small game with you,” he told him, catching the other’s attention. “Now, it’s not an actual game, but think of it as… additional rules to our chess match.” “Rules? Please elaborate,” the other requested, placing he last rook in its rightful spot in the corner. “Oh, just a few questions,” Crane hummed, intertwining his fingers as he rested his elbows on the table. “Every time I capture a piece, I get to ask you a question. Vice versa for you.”  Jervis noticeably pursed his lips, already recognizing Jonathan’s doctor-like methods. He knew the Scarecrow wanted information, and seeing as he was using the techniques of his former psychiatric past, this information would most likely be personal. Still, the blonde didn’t see why not; yes, Jonathan could be very prying, but the questions never went too far. The good doctor was usually able to deduce problems with little information provided.  

“Alright, I’ll play your game. I don’t see why not,” the haberdasher complied. Crane gave a small smile, sitting up straighter. “Good to hear. Let us begin.” Without another word, he moved a pawn forward.  

While chess usually prohibited any form of communication between the players, that was the only rule the two disregarded; their cells were quiet enough as it was. Jonathan was the first to take a pawn. “So, tell me, Jervis, how are you today?” Tetch grinned softly, the answer already clear. “Simply delightful, Hare,” he replied. Ah, that nickname. The other let out a simple chuckle. During their first few months of getting to know each other in the recreation room, that given pet name had bothered him to no end. Despite that, he had gotten used to it the more they worked together; the Hatter named almost everyone he bothered to get to know after a character from his books. Hell, he even named Batman. He had learned to take it as Jervis’ way of saying he saw him as a friend. “Good to hear, Hatter.”

Jervis was the one to get the next pawn.  

“How are you, Hare?” he asked, turning the question back onto Jonathan. “Fine, I suppose,” he hummed. “I haven’t been placed in solitary confinement once since I’ve been here. Though, the guards have been a little more rough with me since my last escape.” Jervis grinned giddily at the answer as he took another pawn. He took a second to think of another question. “Good good. And how is everyone else faring?” Crane blinked and looked around the room. “Well, I assume,” he replied, placing another pawn down. “Joker and Ivy have both been sent away to their cells, while Zsasz has yet to return. Harvey’s seeming much better after almost losing his coin, and unfortunately we’re being refused anymore entertainment since the Monopoly incident.” Jervis huffed at this, once again taking another pawn. “A shame. Why is Zsasz locked away again?”

“For attempting to kill his psychiatrist.”

“Ah. Well, how do you-?”

“Ah ah,” Crane interrupted. “You’ve already asked your question. Now, how do you see yourself?”

Tetch recognized that they were now venturing into more personal questions, though he didn’t see anything wrong with this one. It seemed rather easy, as well. “I see myself as the Hatter, of course,” he grinned, moving his knight, which was quickly cornered and snatched up after a few moved. “Of course you do,” he sighed, making another move and taking up a pawn. “So then how do you feel about yourself?” Jervis looked to to side, obviously contemplating as he moved his rook. “Well, I suppose I feel as well as I can,” he sighed, watching the other move his piece before proceeding with his move. “I mean, I’m in perfect health- perfect physical health, Hare,” he interrupted himself, catching the other’s glance. “However, am I completely satisfied? Err… no. Wouldn’t say that I am. Now, if I was free, had sweet Alice with me at a tea party, and a perfectly made cup of tea, I suppose then I would be satisfied with myself.”

A few moves passed before Jervis was able to take up another piece. He looked to the side, attempting to find a throwaway question. “So, why is a raven like a writing desk?” he asked. That was easy. “I haven’t the slightest idea,” was the reply, watching Jervis take up a few more pieces in the coming moves. While the Hatter hadn’t seemed too bothered by the questions, it was clear he was definitely putting an effort into this match to win. At this rate, Crane didn’t see this game ending in his favor. Still, it was answers he was looking for, not a win. Many of Tetch’s questions weren’t even real questions with an open answers; he would quote questions for the book that Scarecrow would answer with ease, having read the book front to back, or maybe he would ask simple greeting inquiries, seeming just wanting move on with the game. Luckily, the Master of Fear was able to get a few good questions in.

“Would you say that you are happy with yourself and your life at this moment?”

“Happy? Why, I’d say my life is rather frabjous!”  

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh poppycock, Hare, you know what I meant. Of course I’m happy.”

“What of your family?”

“My family? Why, I haven’t heard a word from the lot in years. Still in England, I presume.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Whom?”

“Your family?”

“Err… perhaps not as much as I should.”

“Have you ever had problems with them?”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed.”

Jonathan realized he was beginning to strike something here, noticing Jervis’ unusually curt response. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile to himself; he had forgotten how much he enjoyed finding these sorts of weak spots.

Finally, with Jervis in the lead, the smaller male asked his first real question upon taking the other’s queen. “Now, what is with your fancy of my personal wellbeing?” he interrogated, folding his arms after moving another piece, beginning to corner Crane’s king.

“Well, I suppose you could say I’m leading to a more revealing inquiry,” Jonathan replied, moving his king away near the other’s bishop, only to watch as his own was taken and he was forced into a corner.

“And what may this be, hmm?” Jervis hummed, quirking a brow. His tone had become more tense, seemingly irritated with the emerging questions. He wasn’t one to get annoyed easily, but he seemed rather impatient with all the prying his friend was doing. Jonathan grimaced, before taking his king and knocking over the other’s pawn, the only real move he could make at his point. As soon as the piece was down, he grabbed onto Tetch’s arm. The Hatter looked curious, if not a bit confused, and didn’t pull away as he watched Crane force his sleeve up his forearm.

“What are these?”

He visibly flinched, feeling thin, spindly fingers trail up the inner side of his wrist and tracing the narrow white lines that ran sharply against his skin. Jervis was a pale man, but the scars had been noticeable enough for Jonathan to notice. They were faded, having obviously happened long in the past. Another worrying factor was that they were angled downward, not parallel to his hand, as most would do. “Down the road, not across the street” as many would mock.

Jervis was silent, staring down at the marks blankly. It was the first time Jonathan had seen him look so emptily at something, all the joy and whimsical aspects of his nature drained. The Hatter looked away, mumbling a few incoherent words to himself. Then, with a smile back on his face, he jerked his hand away. “Oh dear, that’s nothing for you to worry about today, Hare,” he chuckled,  not looking up at his chess opponent. “Just a few unpleasantnesses is all. Perhaps it’s a story I’ll tell you another day over some tea.” Scarecrow watched him with an impassive gaze, sitting back in his chair. “Hatter…” he spoke softy, the firm tone always present in his voice now melted away to make way for a gentler hush. “I’m always here to talk if you need to.” Jervis let out a small titter, rolling his sleeve back into place. “Why of course you are,” he grinned, exposing that overbite and folding his hands. “That’s what you doctors do. You poke and you pry and you prod and you persist, but oh that’s just how you are.”

The thinner inmate visibly frowned, leaning forward to try and reason with the other. “Jervis, I just-“

Before he could finish, the Hatter took up his black queen, and with a flick of his wrist, knocked the white king off the table. “Oh, well it seems that you’re out of questions, Jonathan. Check mate.” He stood up, dusting himself off, ignoring the stares he was getting from some of the other inmates. “Hopefully out next game will be far more jubilant.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving Jonathan silent, but still with many more questions.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

Drabble request, memento mori as if Mulder is sitting through chemo with Scully, not Penny Northern

anchor

part of my series i’m writing as i rewatch txf

He doesn’t go straight to DC. He stops by the hospital to check on Scully first. The nurse directs him to Oncology and he finds Scully’s mother slumped in a chair in the waiting room. “Fox,” she greets him with some surprise.

“Hi, Mrs. Scully.” He should probably sit but he’s too tempered with energy, rocking back and forth on his heels. He needs to see her. “How is she?”

“Sleeping, the last time I saw her.” Maggie rubs her eyes. “She’s begun the treatment. I think another patient is in there with her now. An old friend, she said.” She sounds extremely weary, fraying. Like she’s starting to fall apart, or has been for a very long time.

Mulder chews his lower lip nervously. Penny Northern, he guesses. “What room?” 

Maggie relays it to him and he thanks her quickly before heading down the hall to find her. He’s going to make a deal that will hopefully save her life, he’s going to find out what happened to her. But first he needs to make sure she’s okay. 

He nudges the door to her room open and immediately sees her, curled in bed, hands clasped with Penny. She looks terrible, exhausted even though she clearly just woke up. “Mulder,” she murmurs when she sees him hovering in the doorway, red spreading over her cheeks like she’s embarrassed.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. He feels embarrassed for intruding, now. “I can go…”

“That’s all right,” Penny says companionably. “I should be getting back to my room. I’ll leave you two to talk.” She squeezes Scully’s hand gently and smiles at her before getting up laboriously. “Good luck, Dana.”

“Thank you, Penny,” Scully says, her voice rasping. Mulder almost winces at the harsh sound. 

Penny brushes past him on her way out of the room and he shuffles forward awkwardly to take her seat by the bed. “Hey,” he says softly.

“You said that already,” she mumbles, eyes closed. 

“I did.” Her hand is hanging off of the bed. He feels an impulse to take it so he does. It is small and cold in his. “How you feeling?”

She makes a small sound, an almost inaudible groan. “Better not to ask.”

Oh, Scully. He squeezes her fingers. He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell her that he is going to make a deal for her life, that he is going to save her, but he’s sure she wouldn’t respond well to that. He wants to tell her that she is not going to die, but there’s no guarantee, is there. So he squeezes her hand and anchors them both to earth.

“Mm, what are you doing here, Mulder?” Scully mumbles, shifting under the covers and covering her mouth with one hand. “I thought you were with Kurt Crawford.”

“I was,” he says. “We found a lead.” 

Scully makes a small sound of half-hearted interest, but it seems to be muted by her clear fatigue. “Are you going back to DC to pursue it?” 

That was the plan up until a few moments ago, but now, her cold fingers intertwined with his, it feels like the last thing he should do. “No, I figured I could see if the Gunmen could look into it for me,” he says. “I’ll stay up here, keep you company.”

The hints of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “You don’t have to do that,” she mutters.

He is stricken by the terrifying thought that if he leaves her he might never see her again. Maybe it’s just the sight of blankets tucked around her, hair rumpled and hands shaky. He’s not completely sure, but he knows he can’t leave. “Yes, I do,” he says. 

He holds her hand until she falls asleep and disappears into the hall to call Skinner and ask him to find the Cigarette Smoking Man when he gets back. “You deal with this man, you offer him anything and he will own you forever,” Skinner says sternly. 

“He knows what they did to Agent Scully,” he says loudly, fingers clenching around the phone, knuckles whitening. A nurse shoots him a sharp look, and he lowers his voice. “He may very well know how to save her,” he growls softly.

“If he knows, you can know too but you can’t ask the truth of a man who trades in lies,” Skinner growls back, considerably louder. “I won’t let you.” 

“We are talking about Agent Scully’s life,” Mulder hisses.

“Find another way,” Skinner says firmly. 

Tensions high, Mulder hangs up. He’s furious, blood pounding in his ears. He looks through the window into Scully’s room, and the sight of her asleep, hair falling across her face, breaks his heart a little. He can’t just sit back, he needs to do something.

He pulls out the phone and makes another call, to the Gunmen. He needs them to look for something.

Mulder confers with the Gunmen in between moments at Scully’s hospital bed. She seems to want to avoid company at the worst moments, opting to shoo either him or her mother out of the room in the midst of a coughing fit or an onslaught of nausea or vomiting. Mulder usually takes the opportunity to call and check in, blood pounding so hard that he can barely see straight. Every reminder of what’s been done to her, of all the suffering she’s going through. 

He convinces them to break into the Lumbard facility, to look for something to help her. Frohike promises to call him around the time of the heist, to keep him updated on what’s going on inside. Mulder thanks him, fingers tapping rapidly against the cafeteria table he’s slumped at. He’s full of nervous energy, frustration at not being able to do anything. On the phone with them, he almost regrets not going himself, but his mind wanders back to Scully and any regret is gone in that instance. He needs to be here with her. She lets him hold her hand.

He catches Maggie crying quietly in the hospital chapel at one point and his chest contracts at the sight of it. These men leave countless destruction in their wake; he should’ve known, should’ve driven her away a long time ago. For a split second, he wishes that the incident in Philadelphia and the resulting tension between them had been enough to drive her away, keep her safe from him for good, but it would’ve been too late then, wouldn’t it. Guilt rushes back up in an instance, stronger than ever, and he has to walk away for a minute. He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, forehead pressed against the clean glass of the mirror. He pretends the hot liquid spilling down his face is stray water from the sink.

It’s a long moment before he leaves the bathroom, wiping his face with scratchy brown paper towels. He finds his way back to her room; she’s alone, curled on her side writing furiously in a leather-bound book. She dissolves into coughs, turning onto her back and shifting the book with her. Swallowing hard, Mulder steps into her line of sight and taps on the door frame. “How are you feeling?”

Startled, Scully clears her throat as she snaps the book shut. “About as well as can be expected,” she says, “considering everything.” 

She nods slightly towards the chair beside her bed as if to confirm that he can sit. He moves closer and sinks down into it. “Where’s your mom?” he asks.

“She headed back to the hotel. I told her to go.” Scully runs her thumb over the edge of the book absently. “She’s exhausted, and I know how hard this is on her.”

There’s nothing left to say. Mulder licks his lower lip and reaches out to take her hand. Scully squeezes gratefully before pulling away, straightening the sheets and setting the book on the bedside table. “What have you been doing?” 

“Oh, you know. Getting into trouble. Stealing more things from more people with broken legs,” he cracks, or tries to, but the joke falls flat. Scully smirks at him, though, lying back against the pillow. She looks so tired. He holds back the urge to crawl onto the bed beside her, pull her into his arms. “I’ve talked to the Gunmen,” he adds. “They’re following leads in DC.”

Scully nods, her expression morphing into something he’s sure is supposed to resemble a smile but that doesn’t quite fit the qualification. “I’m grateful for the work you’ve done on this. I can’t tell you how grateful.” She clears her throat again, looking down at her hands in her lap. 

His throat aches. “Of course, Scully.” There’s no other option. I owe you this, he thinks. He can’t lose her. “We’re partners, you’re my… friend, I won’t let you…” 

“I know,” she says quickly. It’s too intimate for them, this, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She takes a deep breath, reaches down to intertwine their fingers. “I know, Mulder” she says, voice warm. 

He looks down at their callused knuckles, balanced on the mattress. There seems to be some silent understanding in the space between their palms. They sit in silence for a long minute.

Scully is the first one to speak. “Penny’s taken a downfall,” she says, her voice thick. 

“I’m sorry.”

She nods, hair falling across her face. “She’s my friend. Mulder, she was there for me… wherever they took me during my abduction… she comforted me, and I don’t even remember. And now…” She sniffles quietly. “It’s a horrible thing, Mulder, what’s she’s going through. And she’s so strong, so brave in the face of all this… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have that kind of strength.”

“Scully, you’re the strongest person I know,” he says immediately. 

“I don’t feel like it,” she mumbles. “Not right now.”

He closes his eyes, eyes burning. He thinks he’s going to cry again. He pulls her hand up to his mouth and kisses the curve of her thumb, the center of her palm. When he opens his eyes, he sees hers are closed, too. A tear rolls across her cheeks. He thumbs it away. She grips his hand harder, and they don’t speak.

Dr. Scanlon shows up to talk to Scully right around the time that Mulder is supposed to call the Gunmen to check in. He finds a decently secluded spot of the hospital to call and clutches the phone hard in his hand as it rings. 

Frohike reports that he and Langly are in a storm drain watching Byers inside the building. “We’re trying to get him in right now,” Langly says over speaker phone, the connection crackling. “He’s hit a road block.”

“Keep me posted, boys,” Mulder says.

“How’s Scully doing?” Frohike asks, a hint of urgency in his voice that Mulder remembers from Scully’s return from her abduction.

“Okay, all things considered,” Mulder says carefully. “She’s with Dr. Scanlon now.”

A sudden rush of muffled words, Byers’s voice. “Mulder… who was the doctor you said Scully’s with?” Langly asks, voice wavering. 

“Scanlon,” says Mulder uncertainly. “Why?”

More muffled words from Byers. “Byers saw his name through the glass door,” Frohike says. “A bunch of signs with other doctors names. A Dr. Kevin Scanlon is on staff here.”

Mulder takes in a sharp breath, pressing his fingers hard into his forehead. “Goddamnit,” he hisses. “Goddamnit, I have to go. I have to stop her treatment.” He hangs up quickly, tossing the phone across the room. He doesn’t bother trying to retrieve it. He walks rapidly down the hall, fumbling for his badge.

He’s running by the time he reaches the oncology ward. A nurse shouts for him to stop. He ignores her. She’s alone in there with him, while he could be doing god-knows-what to her. He works at a company who did things to Scully before. Who knows things about what happened to her, what’s happening now. He ignores shouts for him to stop, of, “Call Security!”, as he heads for her room. “Scully!” he calls, practically shouting. 

She looks startled as he thunders into her room, the book she was writing in sliding off of her lap. “Mulder, what? What happened? 

“Dr. Scanlon,” he says, breathing hard. “Byers found his name in a facility that may have something to do with your illness.”

Her eyes are wide, skin pale enough that he can count her freckles where her makeup has been washed off. “What?” 

“The Lumbard Research Facility.” He balls his hands into fists in his pocket. “I found your name in a file of theirs. But you’ve never heard of them, right?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but Scully goes paler. “Oh my god,” she whispers in horror.

“Where is he?” Mulder growls. He wishes he had his gun. 

“He left. I don’t know…” 

He turns so rapidly that he almost falls down, in time to almost run into a security guard. “Sir,” the man is saying, “I’m going to need you to…”

“FBI,” he blurts, flashing his badge. “I need to find a Dr. Scanlon. There’s evidence that he may have been harming my partner and other patients in their treatments by him.”

“Sir, there is no…”

“I need to find him and take him in for questioning!” Mulder snaps. “I need every person under Dr. Scanlon’s care to have their treatments discontinued and be checked for any abnormalities.”

“Sir…”

Scully appears at his side, flashing her own badge. She looks incredibly tiny in her hospital gown. “He’s right,” she says. “Dr. Scanlon needs to be found immediately. I’m sure my partner would appreciate some help.”

The security guard gulps, nods. “I’ll call in for backup and close up the exits.”

“Thank you,” Mulder says, near stammering. He turns to face her. “Scully…”

“I need to find Penny,” she says frantically. “I need to… my god, Mulder. I can’t believe…”

“It’s okay.” Unable to stop himself, he brushes some hair off of her face. “We’ll find him. It’ll be okay.”

She swallows and looks at her feet. “Not for her, Mulder.”

He and the rest of security search the hospital all night, but there’s no sign of Scanlon. He seems to have vanished into thin air. 

Byers appears at the hospital as the search is winding down, bursting into the emergency room where Mulder is talking to the security guards. “How is she?” he asks Mulder frantically. 

Mulder gulps. “I got to her. Scanlon’s gone, but she’s okay.”

“Thank god,” Byers breathes. “We were worried.”

Mulder nods, jaw clenched. “What did you find?”

The other man shifts nervously from foot to foot, hands in his coat pockets. “Mulder, I don’t know how to tell you this…”

“What?” he says, voice sharper than he expected. “What is it, what did you find?”

“Clones,” Byers says bluntly. “Hybrids working to save abductees. The same abductees who were essentially their birth mothers from ova harvested during their abduction.”

Something pangs in his chest. “What?” he repeats softly. 

“I’m sorry, Mulder. I found Scully’s name in there.” Byers gulps, pulls a vial out of his pocket. He holds it out to Mulder; it is cold to the touch. “I took it from the drawer… I thought she might…” 

Mulder curls his hand hard around the vial, tucks it into his pocket. “Thanks, Byers. I have to go.” 

He doesn’t let go of the vial in his pocket in the elevator. He can’t. It’s hers, it was stolen from her. Too much is rushing through his mind. He can’t believe this. He has no idea how to tell her. He’s trying to come up with the words when he gets to her room and finds it empty.

His pulse picks up, so hard he can almost hear the pounding. He draws closer, finds the journal she was writing in open on top of her bed. He recognizes her neat cursive, the rounded letters of his name scattered over the pages. He clenches his fingers around the hem of his pockets, turns rapidly and exits the room. “Nurse,” he calls out to a nurse passing in the hall. “Nurse, Dana Scully is supposed to be in her room. Where is she?” 

“She’s not there?” the nurse asks incredulously. 

“No, what happened to her?” he stammers. Visions of Scanlon coming back, the things he could be doing to Scully, crowd his mind.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, who the hell does know?” he says sharply, voice rising. 

“Sir?” A different nurse touches his arm. “Did you say Dana Scully?” He nods, turning to face him. “I think she’s still with Penny Northern,” the nurse supplies. “Miss Northern isn’t doing well.”

Mulder chews his lip, thanks the nurses and turns to leave. He finds Penny’s room and pushes open the door without thinking. Scully is there, wrapped in a large white robe and stroking the side of Penny’s face; she turns towards Mulder, her eyes full of questions, and he shakes his head slightly. His panic seems silly in the moment when he sees Penny in the bed. She’s okay, he shouldn’t have disturbed them. Penny is dying. “Dr. Scanlon isn’t coming back?” she asks Scully weakly.

Scully, now facing the bed, shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so, Penny.”

Though he barely knows this woman, Mulder is filled with rage on her behalf. She doesn’t deserve this.

“Dana, I want you to get well,” Penny says. “You’ve been such a comfort. You’ve got to be the one. You can’t give up hope.”

“I haven’t,” Scully says. “I won’t.”

Now he knows. Mulder closes the door as he leaves. He’ll leave them in peace now.

Mulder waits outside of Penny’s room for hours, doesn’t move until a nurse runs past him into the room. A minute later, Scully exits, padding down the hall with her shoulders slumped.

Mulder gets to his feet, calls, “She gone?” softly to Scully.

Scully turns to him and nods, chin trembling.

“I’m sorry. I know what she meant to you,” he says. She draws closer as he adds,  “When I came to find you, you weren’t in your room. I got scared that something had happened… and I read some of what you wrote.”

Devastation still etched in every corner of her face, she sighs, looking down. “I didn’t want you to read that,” she murmurs. “I had decided to throw it out. I decided tonight that, um… that I’m not going to let this thing beat me.” She looks back up at him, meets his eyes. “You were right, Mulder. I can fight this, and I will. I can find my strength. I came into this hospital able to work, and that’s how I’m leaving.”

He nods. He’d do anything for her, wants as much time with her as possible. “Scanlon’s gone,” he recounts. “We searched the whole hospital, and no sign of him.” Scully swallows and nods. “He may very well have killed those women.”

Scully’s jaw clenches. “That will have to be proven, if we find him.”

“When we find him,” Mulder says firmly. There will be no other option. Scanlon is a murderer; he killed Penny Northern and would’ve killed Scully, too, if they hadn’t found him out. They will bring him to justice. “Scully, something was done to you, something that you’re just beginning to remember. You can’t quite figure it out, but it can be explained, and it will be explained. And no matter what you think as a scientist or a doctor, there is a way, and you will find it, to save yourself.”

“Mulder, I can’t kid myself,” Scully says, her voice cracking slightly. “People live with cancer. They carry on, and so will I.” She sniffs. “You know I’ve got things to finish… to prove to myself, to my family... but for my own reasons.”

She smiles up at him and he can’t help the returning smile, can’t help pulling her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of his head. “Come on back.” Her cheek is pressed to his chest, her arms wrapped around him under his jacket. They hold each other tightly. “The truth will save you, Scully,” he murmurs. “I think it will save both of us.” 

He turns his nose into her hair, breathing her in before pulling away slightly to kiss her forehead, slow and gentle, stroking her hair in small circles with his thumbs. She looks up at him, another understanding passing between them: they’ll be okay. He strokes her hair again as she pulls away, turning to pad back down the hall. He watches her until she’s gone, the warmth of her not completely leaving him. 

He heads back to the sparsely used hotel room to catch a few hours of sleep before heading back to the hospital. Scully’s mom has to head home, and he promises to stay with her, drive her home. He sits by her bed for hours, dozing on and off until the next morning when a new doctor clears her to leave.

She seems to be recovering, regaining some strength. He helps her pack, folding clothes and putting them in her overnight bag. She scolds him for the sloppiness of his folding and he teases right back and it’s almost, almost normal. He tries to carry her bag and she won’t let him.

As they’re pulling out of the parking lot, Scully clears her throat, says, “Mulder, I wanted to, uh… thank you for staying with me.” Her voices breaks, just a little. “You were... I’m glad you were here.”

Whether she means the fact that he saved her from Scanlon or just that she’s grateful for his company, he doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. “Always,” he says with conviction. He doesn’t really believe there will be an end–not now, there can’t be, there can’t be–but if there is, he’ll stay with her the whole way.

[5hfanfiction]

Seasons - Chapter 01

“Do you believe in mythology? The kind with gods, heroes and monsters. If you don’t, you’ll start to believe it; if you do, you’ll know that everything is true. Camila Cabello found this out the unusual way possible, dipping into a completely new world, full of dangers, monsters and the worst; she have to deal with Lauren Jauregui, an annoying, arrogant and beautiful Zeus’ daughter. What she didn’t know was that along with Lauren and her new friends from Camp Half-Blood, she would become the center of a plot full of adventures, mysteries and romance.”

Summer: Once upon a time a day that wasn’t normal

Hi, I’m Lina and I hope you’ll like my story. It’s based on Percy Jackson’s books.

Camila’s POV

Early in that morning, I considered myself a normal teenager. Sure, certain things insist on deny this statement, but to the point of my life, I had an idea that I was just a normal girl with a peculiar bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was a 16-year-old girl, who craved everything a teenager could want that age. No, I didn’t think about boyfriends, actually, it was very difficult to think about having a relationship with other people when I was constantly moving. So maybe one of the things I wanted most was that I have friends, that I could spend at least two birthdays with the same people. But that wasn’t possible, and part of it was my fault.

Not that I was a rebellious girl. On the contrary, I always wanted to do the right things so I wouldn’t give my mom any trouble. She was an exhausted and hardworking lady who did a bit of everything, a writer who spent much of her money to cover so many moves. Sinuhe wasn’t my real mother, she married my father when I was one year old. When Papa was still alive, things were much easier, but since he had been found dead in a street, everything had been drastically difficult. I was only seven at the time and all I understood was that I no longer had my hero. In her place was a warrior, with her ups and downs, but at the end of the night she still came to my room to wish me good night and place a kiss on my forehead.

So what went wrong? This was a question that kept repeating in my mind like a bad and scratchy disk.As much as I tried, I couldn’t fight certain things. I had something that the experts called dyslexia and hyperactivity, I used to say it was a pain in the ass. I couldn’t concentrate on studies, as it was almost impossible to sit still for more than half an hour. What made me uneasy in the classroom, doing everything but getting pay attention to what the teacher said. Oh, but these disorders are common and can be controlled, right? In parts, if that was just my problem. Certain things happened. Things that I often couldn’t explain. Many times I felt persecuted or being watched. A psychologist even suggested that I had paranoid schizophrenia, light type. Add to my long list of problems, small facts like being clumsy, curious and stubborn. It definitely put me in trouble too.

This year was being a great year. I had received only three detentions this month, I wasn’t expelled from school yet and summer vacations were about to begin. It was a week that I did not feel that bad feeling I was being chased. That was supposed to be the most normal day of my life. Was.

I met Dinah in the school entrance, as always. Dinah Jane was a tall, expansive girl with an incredible sense of humor. She was as dumb as me, which made her the closest I’ve ever had to a best friend. She was also agitated, and although she didn’t have to say it aloud, she also had difficulty keeping her attention.

“I think a slug can arrive early at school than you,” Dinah teased as soon as her eyes fell on me.

“Don’t start, DJ”, I asked with my usual bad morning mood.

“Woke up the Ms. Delicacy Ever” Polynesian girl laughed and began to follow me through the halls. “Have you told Aunt Sinu that we are going out at night?”

“Yes, I did. She was reluctant, but she let me go” I shrugged my shoulders despondently. “I can’t believe that I’m going to…”

“It’s a teenage party, guess what, you’re one! Even if you look like an old spinster who complaining about life”

“I know you love me, that’s enough for me and I-”

My thoughts were completely cut off. Suddenly my body bumps into something and my lack of body mass was totally in favor of gravity, making me to fall to the ground. I looked up still in shock, but as soon as my brown eyes locked in the green eyes of that girl, my anger rose to my head. Of course, it had to be that stupid Jauregui.

“Don’t you look where you’re going?” I grumbled and getting help from Dinah to get up. “Oh, I forgot you just have no education.”

“If you were as fast as your tongue is to speaking stupidity, you’d avoid many disasters.” she shot back promptly .

Well, up to that point, it was normal. Lauren Jauregui a troublemaker class A. No one really knew much about her, just that it wasn’t good to get in her way. Okay, I’d follow this rule very happy, if she wasn’t Dinah’s friend of Dinah. To this day, I wonder how this was possible because Dinah Jane despite her outgoing and imperative way, she was a great friend. It wasn’t possible to associate someone who is able to get close to Jauregui for more than five minutes.

“Don’t even think about,” Jauregui threatened as soon as I opened my mouth, her eyes changed from blue and green staring at me so intense that I almost stepped back. “DJ, I need to talk to you at lunch”

“I hope it’s important”, Dinah grumbled. “I always end up without lunch right when it happens”

“It is always important!” the Hispanic girl snapped.

Then Lauren leaves tripping over everything before her. No one dared stand in her way, so it was likely that students prefer jumping off her course than be bogged down. I glared at Dinah, raised eyebrows and sharp look.

“No point on do it Mila, I won’t say anything” Dinah shrugged and adjusted her backpack. “Now let’s go, the bell will ring and my first class is physics. Blah, I hate physics”

I grunted and bit my tongue so I wouldn’t argue with my friend. It was always like this. Lauren appeared with her “good” education and practically summoned Dinah. They missed the whole lunchtime, and then Dinah said nothing about what happened. Sometimes she would come back tired, as if she’d been running all the time, or even lightly injured. I believe that they are part of something dangerous, like a school gang and had to face other gangs, skipping from school for this. But I soon dismissed that possibility, it was just my fertile mind seeking reasons to have my only friend stolen from me. And even more for��that girl.

While Dinah went to her physics class, I’d have my math torture dose. I hated math, and English, and chemistry, and physics… and every class. I had learning disabilities and instead of God making up for it by giving me a good advantage in sports, I had to be clumsy enough to almost suffer a serious accident every time I stepped on a sports court.

During class, I pretended to pay attention while trying to fool me, telling myself that I wasn’t bothered by Lauren have called Dinah for another secret meeting. I had to pretend I was ignoring that painful twinge of curiosity that always had when it happened. After all, Dinah was probably the only person on Earth who may know something about Lauren Jauregui. This girl was a real mystery, one that I didn’t care so much about finding out.

Prepotent, she didn’t follow orders or rules, violent enough to punch anyone in front of her. If I thought I had the records of going into detention, Lauren overcame me on showing up in that classroom for bad behavior or aggression.

Lunchtime came after a long and boring class in Political Geography. I was extremely discouraged to spend those thirty minutes alone when I saw Dinah and Lauren before they disappeared into a hallway. It was as if a little devil was whispering in my ear to follow them. I wondered where the little angel was saying I shouldn’t go, but he didn’t even bother to show up.

It would be just to know that Dinah was fine. Friends care about each other, right?

At least, that’s what I told myself as I almost ran toward that hallway hoping I wouldn’t lose sight of them. They both headed toward the deserted pool. The heater was broken and the principal never insisted on fix since the swim club trained in a school-affiliated club. I followed them at a safe distance, I didn’t want to imagine the Jauregui’s angry face or Dinah’s disappointment when she realized that I was following them. For a moment, I cursed my impulsivity and curiosity. But it was too late, I couldn’t go back, I had to find out what was going on, or I would be eternally tormented by my imagination.

They entered the empty building, and I waited a few minutes, looking for an alternative to enter without being caught. I went to a rusty window, just catching sight of Dinah sitting at the edge of the empty pool. Lauren remained standing, pacing back and forth, apparently nervous while argued something with I knew they were too distracted to notice my presence, so I managed to – incredibly – enter through the main door making no noise and direct me to some empty crates where it should be an old equipment of maintenance of the swimming pool.

“It may not be, Lauren,” Dinah argued tediously. “You said last week that Mrs. Turner might be a dracaenae, and even though she’s ugly like them, she’s just that, a grumpy old woman.”

“There’s something strange, Dinah!” Lauren huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “Last month there was that attack and I almost died because YOU said it was no big deal. And yet I was suspended for destroying the north courtyard” she stopped and pointed her finger. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run away with a tail between your legs”

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get another suspension, I would be expelled!”

What kind of argument was that?! Attack? Dracaenae? I frowned totally lost in what I was hearing. Everyone knew that Lauren had had an attack and broken things in the north courtyard, which luckily was empty for being class time.

“I still think Cabello is involved” Lauren said out of nowhere.

I almost stumbled forward with the scare I took to hear my name. How would I be involved?!

“She may be a sensitive human to the veil of mist.” Dinah let out a long sigh. “I stood beside her as much as I could Lauren, nothing much happened besides her having bad luck and a little persecution mania. You’re forgetting that Mila is 16, she’ll be 17 soon. Something should have already happened, it’s the rule now!”

“You know very well how they don’t follow the rules. Or I wouldn’t even exist, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry princess sparkle and…”

“Shut up!”

“Are you sensitive today?”

“No, shut up, there’s someone here!”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought they could hear my heartbeat and find me. I was starting to cringe and preparing an escape route, when everything changed. A strong, hairy and tattooed arms wrapped around me as if I was a rag doll. I screamed in panic more by instinct than actually processing what happened. I was easily lifted from the ground.

“Finally found!” a strong and masculine voice rattled as if he’d found his lost toy.

I looked up, meeting the new school janitor. I knew that just because I saw him and thought him was weird. It might just be my panic-stricken impression, but the man now seemed more than six feet tall, his muscles as strong as iron. But his teeth were so sharp eerily that my blood seemed to run away from my veins.

“Let her go now!”

Lauren ordered. Dinah had jumped from in the spot and now looked at me in pure shock and horror.

“No, I finally found the package Master asked for!” the janitor said and snorted. “My teacher said not to attract attention. But eating demigods isn’t to attract attention, right?” then he threw me against the boxes as if I really were a rag doll. “First the annoying one! Then it will be your turn, girl!”

My whole back ached from the impact, I had fallen awkwardly and my ankle was throbbing in pain. But I barely processed it. The janitor seemed to grow more, getting rougher, wilder. The full-sleeve shirt that made up his uniform ripped with his toned muscles, showing his arms full of tattoos I could barely identify. His hair was even curlier, more hideous, the air that surrounded him was savagery. His eyes weren’t smart, but showed a frightening force..

But Lauren wasn’t intimidated. Instead, her gaze became even more threatening, even sparkling. She took a lighter out of her pocket and pointed it at the janitor as if it were something dangerous, like a pistol or revolver.

“Last chance” Lauren threatened, chin up, higher posture. God, she was crazy!

“Mila, over here” Suddenly Dinah was at my side, speaking quietly. “Lauren will distract the Laistrygonian and we will escape”

“Di-Dinah, what…? Lauren, she… Holy shit!”

I couldn’t formulate a sentence. My mind was like a blind knot unable to untie. Everything seemed to get worse when Lauren, somehow, squeezed the lighter and it unfolded rapidly, growing and turning into a sword. It wasn’t one of those toys, it was an item you saw in epic movies, with warriors wielding and brandishing as if they were knives. My eyes widened refusing to believe the things happening right in front of me. Dinah was trying to pull me, but my body was simply petrified. I stared at her as if she wasn’t real. How could she be?

“Mom always said to play with food!” the janitor said.

Lauren groaned typically. Held firmer the handle of the sword and I could swear that a wisp of electricity went through the blade. The janitor stepped forward, trying to punch her directly. Jauregui just swerved, rolling her body to the side and moving away a little bit. She had everything in control.

“Mila!” Dinah slapped me in the face, finally waking me up. “We need to go!”

The sense of escape was almost suffocating. I knew I was in danger of life, the feeling of persecution almost sank me down. This time when Dinah pulled me, I followed her promptly, allowing myself to be carried away by my friend.I looked back one last time, worried about Lauren. But all I could see was a warrior girl dodging a sequence of blows and hitting the sword in the arm what I believed was our janitor. Her gaze was serious, intent on the task of attacking and dodging. I was sure that this wasn’t her first battle, just as I was even more sure of another factor: my morning started normal, had its end.

Little did I know that was just the beginning.