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honeyhotteoks · 1 year

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this night together - chapter four (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter four: a funny little feeling

chapter summary: your heat finally breaks, leaving you to relive every moment and every touch with a clear head. but you're sure you'll be able to just stay friends.

warnings: smut, all the a/b/o/omegaverse warnings, extreme horniness, masturbation, fingering, nipple play, rough sex, knotting, serious aftercare, emotional rollercoaster of hormones

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, abo/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 7.9K

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They’re dead asleep when the pain passes over you again, and after all the hours they had put in helping you come again and again, fucking and filling you over and over, you can’t bring yourself to wake them. Neither of them are in a rut, and this has to be getting tiring for them, even though they can share you, with a heat this hard you’re demanding constant attention and stimulation. There’s no way you won’t be feeling this for at least a week when it finally breaks.

Yunho is laid out flat on his back, head turned away from you and his lips parted softly as he exhales little puffs of air. His upper arm is pressed along yours, but otherwise he isn’t touching you at all. Mingi on the other hand is curled over you, situated higher up on the bed than you, one broad hand resting between your breasts and a knee hitched up over your hips.

No longer in the hazy space of peak heat, you’re able to breathe and take in the feeling of them so close. You can hear your own heartbeat, feel the thready hiss of your breath, but still they sleep on.

Your nipples harden into painful peaks, a light sheen of sweat across your body once again, and your cunt pulsates with need. What you should do is wake them, beg them to knot you again until you can sleep a little longer in plump satisfaction, but you bite down and hold your tongue.

It takes a moment to maneuver Mingi’s leg off you, his weight extra heavy while he’s deep in sleep, but you manage to push him off. That leaves you naked in the center of the bed, lying between both of them.

You slip your fingers down your body and between your folds, finding your core wetter than you’ve ever been, so slick you can barely catch any friction where you need it. A soft whine bubbles from your lips, but it’s still almost a whisper and they don’t make a move.

Steeling yourself, you arch your hips to give your hand better access, and wipe away as much excess slick onto your inner thigh as possible, returning your fingers to your swollen, throbbing clit and finding now, finally, you can feel something. At this stage of your heat it’s always harder to orgasm from manual stimulation alone, your body knowing intrinsically that what it needs is a knot, but you have to try.

You circle your fingers, pressing firmly down over your clit and chasing as much feeling as possible, cupping your breast and tweaking your sensitive nipples to drive some additional sensation through your body. They sleep on beside you, and you bite down on your lip as you rock your hips up to meet your fingers a little better, trying all the while to keep quiet. Your legs widen on their own as you try to get what you need, but your thighs connect with each of them since they're crowded so close to you in the bed and you stutter to a stop to see if you’ve woken them.

Yunho makes a heavy sigh but doesn't move and that’s all the permission you need to sink two fingers inside yourself and pick up the pace of your hips. A shuddering breath pushes out of you when you start hitting the tender point of your pleasure just inside your tight channel and your legs widen further. You’re losing yourself now, no longer cognizant of anything but your own need.

Mingi’s hand shifts and cups your breast, but when you jerk your head to the side to look at him, he’s still fast asleep.

Just a little more. All you need is just a little more.

You’re caught looking at Mingi’s plush, parted lips. His forehead smooth and mind unbothered in sleep, and you admire his features. Masculine and sharp, with a softness to his eyes even when they’re closed. Heat pulses through you, and Yunho’s hand shifts.

He sleeps on, his hand coming to rest on the juncture of your thigh and hip, and you whine softly as you continue thrusting your fingers into yourself, canting your hips up to meet every downward jut.

Their hands on you feel electric, their scent filling you and making the atmosphere of the room heady. You’re so close, it’s right there for you. You widen your legs more, your thighs pressing further against them, but you don’t even care. Yunho shifts slightly, the sheet over his bottom half stretching taut and your mind buzzes - the hard line of his cock is suddenly clear and you stammer out a moan.

Yunho inhales sharply, his fingers tightening on your thigh, and Mingi makes a small, sleepy noise next to you. When Mingi draws his hand back and inadvertently drags his palm over your nipple the sensation is just enough to finally push you over the edge. You moan as it crashes into you, your body locking up in pleasure and twisting in the sheets, and your breath is coming in short sharp pants as you ride out your sudden release.

Your body shifts suddenly, and your eyes flutter open. In the dim light of the room you register quickly that Mingi has pushed you onto your side to face Yunho, who’s awake and looking at you with a blown out, flushed expression.

“Ah, Mingi,” You stammer as he hikes up your leg to open you up to him.

He doesn’t respond with words, but he crowds you with his body and aligns himself with your wet core, thrusting up inside you with one smooth stroke. You curse, gripping down on the sheets at the sudden sensation, but he pulls you closer still like he needs to touch every inch of your skin. His teeth close over your shoulder, far enough from your gland to be safe but still making you start in his arms and try to twist to find his eyes. Hot hunger strikes back up through your body at the sensation, but you know you don’t want him quite like this.

“Mingi, baby,” You reach for him, threading a hand into his hair, “l-let go,”

His teeth sink into you a little more, not enough to break the skin but certainly enough to hurt and his hands tighten.

Your eyes flick to Yunho’s and you watch his face clear suddenly from the primal haze he woke up in, and he meets your eyes. He wets his lips and eases down in the bed a little more, “Mingi, stop,”

Mingi breathes out heavily, a hot stream of air across your damp skin.

“Mingi,” You murmur softly, knowing that he needs a little help snapping out of the haze, “alpha, please let me go,”

His jaw relaxes and he pulls his mouth away from your shoulder. He’s still holding you tightly, but you feel him coming back to the surface, realizing that this isn't a dream.

Yunho cups your cheek softly, “You okay?”

You nod, shifting to kiss his palm gently before reaching back behind you for Mingi, “I’m good, I promise,”

“Jesus, did I hurt you?” Mingi’s grip softens as he finally realizes what’s going on around him.

“No,” You answer clearly, no space for ambiguity with something like this, “I just knew you were still kind of out of it,”

“I bit you,” He registers

“And I liked it,” You squeeze his hip where you reach around, “just not while you were that out of it,”

“What happened?” He manages.

You blush scarlet, “I woke you up by accident,”

Yunho smiles, a little amused at your choice of words. He had rocketed into consciousness and watched you finish the minute you moaned, fighting the urge to sink his own fingers inside you as you came apart in ecstatic pleasure right before his eyes.

Mingi pushes up onto his elbow to see you better, his expression confused.

“You were both asleep,” You explain softly, adverting your eyes from his, “and I didn’t want to wake you, but I needed to take the edge off,”

He smirks when he realizes your euphemism, “Oh,”

“It didn’t work out like I planned,” You duck your face into the mattress and sigh.

“You missed out,” Yunho smiles at you, dragging the back of his knuckle down your chest and back up again, “she looked gorgeous,”

If you could blush more, you do.

“Mm,” Mingi nuzzles you, “why wouldn’t you just wake us? That’s what we’re here for,”

“You’ve got to be exhausted by now,” You explain softly, “I thought I’d give you a break,”

Mingi hums quietly, dropping his lips to your shoulder to kiss you tenderly, and then his hands tighten again and he snaps his hips, dragging his cock out of you and plunging it back in, “Do I feel exhausted to you?”

You moan tightly, reaching out and gripping onto Yunho’s arm as you recover from the sudden sensation, “God, fuck,”

“God, fuck?” He teases you, “Yeah?”

“Oh, shut up,” You sigh, grinding your hips back a little to feel him deeper.

He groans and gathers you close in his arms, “You’re so cute,”

You want to make fun, but something inside you sings at his praise and you smile softly, “Yeah?”

“Aw,” Yunho smiles, “you’re blushing,”

“Mm,” Mingi kisses your head, “do you not hear that enough? Should I tell you more?”

“Mingi,” You make an attempt at protesting but your body flutters around him and you’re acutely aware of the sweat trickling down your brow and the feeling of his heart pounding against your back.

“Cutie,” Mingi nips at your ear, tugging softly on the lobe, “did you take the edge off or do you need me?”

Orgasm aside, your body is starting to fall back into the needy, desperate tendencies of heat and all you can manage is a gentle whimper.

“Oh, pretty girl,” Mingi sighs, dropping his hand over your belly and nuzzling your head, “you need my knot, precious?”

“P-please,” You choke, and even though a few minutes ago you might have been sated enough for sleep, the idea of it is enough to rocket you right back into desperate wanting.

“Can I help?” Yunho murmurs softly.

“Anything,” You nod, a little breathless and frantic.

Mingi groans as you press your hips back into his and reach for Yunho, connecting your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Mingi snaps his hips again and you gasp against Yunho’s mouth.

“Harder,” You reach back for his hip, nails scraping along his soft skin to try and get him to respond the way you need.

He says nothing, but his hands shift to hold you steady, one on your hip and the other on your shoulder and then he starts to thrust. He listened perfectly - not faster, but harder, deeper. Every sharp click of his hips up snaps your hips against each other and drives his aching cock so deep you can’t think straight.

You want to come so badly, you want to spasm around him so hard you make him come inside and you want to take every bit of it. Your brain is still a little blurry and you let your eyes close as you focus on the sensations. Mingi stretching you wide, his tight grip, Yunho’s hands caressing you gently in a dizzying contrast to the way you’re being fucked open.

You whine at a particularly hard thrust, the head of his cock connecting with your cervix and lighting a bubble of pain up inside you, but it’s no worse than your intense hot cramping.

“God,” Mingi pants, his hips canting up a little faster, “you’re so fucking hot,”

Yunho smiles, and then presses forward to catch your mouth again. His fingers trace down from your chest to your belly and back up, one hand cupping your breast and a thumb flicking across your nipple.

You moan hard, breaking away from his mouth and dropping your face into the pillows, “Again,”

He flicks again, and you bury your face deeper into the pillows as you moan.

“No, no,” Mingi’s hand on your shoulder shifts up into your hair, pulling your head back slowly, “don’t hide,”

Your muscles lock up around his cock and he hisses.

“You like that?” He pulls your hair a little harder, yanking you against his shoulder so he can hold you still.

You whine out an affirmative response, one hand reaching for something and finding Yunho’s chest.

“I want to hear you come, beautiful,” Mingi’s breath is hot on your ear, and he adjusts his body slightly so he can drive his cock into you again and again at a punishing pace.

“More,” You manage.

“Y-Yunho,” Mingi groans, “play with her some more,”

Yunho makes a hungry noise and then you feel his mouth close over your nipple.

“Oh, god,” your body arches hard into them.

You’re sandwiched tight between them, and then Yunho sucks hard and the sensations flowing through you double.

“Do that again,” Mingi pants.

Yunho obliges, sucking hard again and then flicking his tongue firmly over your pebbled nipple, his fingers coming up to tease the other.

“I’m gonna fucking come,” You stammer, “I’m- I’m,”

“Taking your alpha’s cock so well,” Yunho bites at your breast, “our good, good, girl,”

“The fucking best,” Mingi chokes.

Good, the best. Theirs. Your brain bubbles over with the praise and you cup Yunho’s head in your palm, pressing him closer to your body and forcing more of his mouth over you. Your legs start to shake, and Mingi’s hand on your hip slips down and his fingers start to circle your clit. Frantic and fast.

“F-fuck,” You hold onto them for dear life, “I’m coming, I’m, ah, fuck,”

“Shit,” Mingi thrusts up hard and you feel his swollen knot, “oh shit,”

“Inside,” You beg, “alpha, please,”

He all but growls, and it burns, but he pushes in. Your fluttering channel expands just enough to accept him inside and then you feel him swell properly to lock in place, spilling seed so deeply that for a hazy moment inside your orgasm you daydream that not even your implant could prevent that from taking root.

You can barely feel your body, all of you shuddering and panting after the intensity, but slowly you feel Yunho kiss along your breasts and up your chest, and Mingi’s hands soften to smooth over your skin in a comforting pattern.

“She asleep?” Yunho mumbles as he kisses more of your chest.

“Maybe,” Mingi responds and then he squeezes your hip, “baby, you with us?”

“Mm,” You manage.

Mingi chuckles, “Does my knot feel good, tiny?”

You sigh pleasantly.

“I think that’s a yes,” You feel Yunho’s smile on your skin, “she’s practically glowing,”

“Beautiful,” Mingi murmurs.

Yunho’s gone suddenly though, and your eyes flutter open, “W-where?”

“Getting you water,” He soothes, still on the bed just a little bit further from you than he was, “I need you to drink some of this and then we can cuddle all you want,”

You take the glass, eagerly drinking as much of the water as you can at this odd, twisted angle and Mingi chuckles again behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“That’s good,” Yunho smiles when you pass the glass back.

“Come back,” You reach out again, needing to feel him.

He drops the glass on the side table and eases himself back over until you’re pressed front to back between them both. Every inch of your skin that can touch one of them does, and you finally feel at peace. Yunho wraps an arm around you both and kisses your hair, “Better?”

“Don’t leave,” You mumble, sleep clinging to you once again.

“We’ve got nowhere to be, jagiya,” Yunho soothes, kissing your lips softly.

“Hmm,” You sigh, your tense muscles releasing one by one, the warm feeling of Mingi’s hard cock inside you washing over you like a salve.

“Perfect,” Mingi murmurs, and then sleep takes you under.

It continues like this for what feels like hours. You wake in needy desperation and one of them is suddenly inside you. You lose count, if you ever had count to begin with. They knot you over and over again, make you come over and over again. On their fingers, their tongues, dragging your slick aching cunt across their thighs if that’s what you need. You lose track of time, and if they’re being honest so do they.

Nothing exists now but this bed and their bodies.

Nothing until it all breaks.

Coming out of heat is always stark and sudden. Where pre-heat lasts hours, sometimes days and you can feel your body changing and adjusting to accommodate the surge of hormones, when it ends it just ends. It feels final and stark, like you’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water, and all the aches and pains in your body that the endorphin surges drowned out come back tenfold.

You know it the minute you open your eyes, no hazy feeling in your limbs or pulsing between your thighs. This time it’s all over, and with strange clarity you realize just how fucked you are.

“Fuck,” You breathe softly, remembering every detail from the past few days and how stripped down and bare you were in front of two men that not only are you not involved with, you work with.

A small groan to your side brings you out of your thoughts as Yunho wakes and registers your soft curse, “Shh, shh,” he hums, “I’m right here,”

“Oh,” You open your mouth to tell him it’s over, but his hand is already pushing between your thighs.

He pushes himself up onto his side, his hair messy and eyes bleary, “There we go,” he murmurs, hoarse and low as his fingers find your clit.

The overstimulation is immediate and you hiss, pulling back with your hips, “Ah, ah, no,”

His fingers raise, “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah,” You manage, “Yunho, I’m,”

“That’s okay,” He swiftly cuts off your words, still sunken into his soothing alpha tone, “I won’t hurt you, jagi,”

“I know,” You manage, looking for the right words to tell him he doesn’t need to do anything more, but he smoothly finds your entrance with his fingers, still wet with leftover slick and cum, and pushes two inside you. He’s slow and deliberate, watching your face for any discomfort, and even though it burns a little it’s also a dizzying pressure that leaves you moaning softly in his arms.

He drops his lips to your shoulder as he rhythmically pumps his hand and he sighs hot against your skin, “There’s my girl,”

His girl. Your heat addled brain had been desperate and aching for it, ready to make them both your alphas for life in the thick of your delirium, but this… this would just be sex. It feels suddenly dishonest, uncomfortable and wrong. They had offered to help with your heat, but that part of whatever your relationship with them is, is now over.

“Yunho,” You stutter out, and he hums, mistaking your sounds for pleasured whimpers. You blink hard and steel yourself, “Yunho, stop, please,”

His fingers push forwards and then stop immediately and he adjusts quickly, pulling them out and turning to look up at you in the bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Can I have that sheet?” You nod towards your legs where the sheet tangles up around your legs and he fishes it up immediately. Once it’s tucked around you, you feel a little better about meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry,”

“Why?” He shuffles closer, wrapping an arm around you and you hear Mingi starting to stir to your other side, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” You assure him, “but it’s done,”

“Done?” His eyebrows knit together and you remember he’s never done this before.

“My heat broke over night,” You explain softly, “you don’t need to do anything else,”

“Oh,” He blinks, “just like that?”

“Mhm,” The intimacy of his arms around you feels so, so right, but you also know it’s part of this manufactured moment. You wouldn’t be here in bed with them both if it weren’t for a biological imperative that you can’t control by yourself, and a rational voice in the back of your brain is telling you to cut and run before this gets messier.

“Are you okay?” He whispers.

“I’m fine,” You nod, “a little sore.”

“Can I get you anything?” He brushes your hair back from your cheek like a lover.

“I think I just need,” Your voice cuts off as Mingi rolls towards you both, snuggling up to your opposite side and exhaling heavily against your hair.

“What’s going on?” Mingi mumbles, sleep still clinging to him.

“My heat’s over,” You rip the words off like a bandaid.

“Shit,” He blinks, pushing himself up onto one arm, “I should have known, you smell different,”

“Do I?” You glance between them.

Yunho takes a deep breath, his eyes slipping closed and then he nods, “Milder,” he agrees, “chamomile and willow now, the honey is less pronounced,”

“Give me a minute,” Mingi shakes his head, as if he’s willing sleep to stop clinging onto him, “I’ll get up and get you what you need,”

“I’m fine,” You reiterate, and that’s mostly true, except for the thumping anxiety in your chest and the fact you’re desperate to not be naked in bed anymore.

Mingi rolls his eyes, “You’re stubborn, I know you’re probably aching like hell,”

“I really just need a shower,” You shake your head, “and then I can get out of your way,”

“That’s not a great idea,” Mingi shakes his head, “you shouldn’t try and rush the comedown,”

“Take it easy,” Yunho agrees, “there’s no work today anyways. Just relax, and I can drive you home this afternoon if that’s what you want,”

What you want is to run. Your chest feels tight, and you’re so aware of their hands on you. Your brain gets stuck like a record skipping again and again, Yunho saying clearly that he can take you home.

“If you need a couple more days,” Mingi jumps in and offers, “you should take them, I know this was a hard one,”

“Really,” You need to move, so you start to sit up, “I’m okay,”

You shimmy forwards and wrap the sheet around yourself as you slide out of Mingi’s bed. It’s not graceful and you’ve probably just flashed more skin than you want to, despite all the parts of you they’ve seen and touched the past few days, but you make it up to your feet. Pretty much immediately you feel like you might faint.

“Whoa,” Mingi rolls out of bed fast, hands out and ready, “you okay?”

“I’m good,” You brush him off, taking a step backwards, “just a little headrush.”

Yunho looks nervous, watching you intently as he locates a pair of his sweats and pulls them on, “I think you should slow down, you’ve been here for days, what’s a few more hours?”

You ignore him, “Do you mind if I use the shower?”

Mingi’s lips press together hard in a line and you can tell he’s confused and not exactly happy with you, but he nods anyway.

“Great,” You gather the end of the sheet so you can walk and then push yourself into the bathroom. Blissfully, they don’t follow you.

Moving quickly you get the hot water going and lay out some towels, and while you wait for the temperature to adjust you collapse against the counter and take a deep inhale. Their apartment feels suddenly claustrophobic. You had really liked them, a tiny piece of you even day dreamed about dating Yunho when you first started. You shake those thoughts away and pull yourself into the warm spray, leaning hard against the tile wall. A flickering memory, Yunho holding you against his chest, Mingi cupping your cheek as they carried you out of the shower and back into bed. They took such good care of you, you can hardly believe they’re real.

You shower until the water starts to run tepid, until you’re out of time again and need to go look them in the eyes. While you washed your skin again and again you thought about it all. Your stomach flips with nervousness, the idea of seeing them with your head clear alone making your palms clammy.

The bedroom is empty when you get back, sheets stripped off the bed and piled high in the corner, the widow behind it pushed up and open. Your stomach twists painfully at the sight. They’re already airing out the nest and it makes you feel suddenly empty. You need to get home, wrap yourself in a tight cocoon of blankets and try not to think about what work tomorrow is going to look like.

You dress quickly, pulling on your last pair of clean underwear and leggings, avoiding the sudden urge to wear Mingi’s hoodie again, and instead slip back into your sweater. You braid your wet hair back, pack up your things, and quietly order yourself an Uber. In ten minutes, you’ll be gone.

You’ll have to see them one more time before you go, your stomach fluttering with sudden anxiety, but you brace yourself and head down the hall.

“Um,” You clear your throat softly as you step into the living room, “hey,”

“Hey,” Yunho smiles wide, “feeling okay?”

“I’m good,” You assure him, watching as they both get to their feet, “but I really should get going,” you say it, but your stomach twists at the idea.

“Already?” Mingi says.

“I can’t steal more of your time,” You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “I really can’t thank you both enough for helping me out of the office the other night… and, you know, everything else,” your cheeks heat with blush.

“You don’t have to thank us,” Mingi steps towards you, as if to reach for you, but he stops himself.

“Right,” You glance down at your phone, your car now six minutes away.

“Let me drive you home,” Yunho reaches for his keys on the island.

“No, no,” You wave him off, “I already have a ride,”

“Oh,” He lets his hand fall away from his keys.

A beat of silence stretches between you all and you swallow, “I’m sorry, this is awkward isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Mingi says with ease, “we just spent four days naked and locked in a room together,”

His blunt honesty makes you laugh and you clap a hand over your mouth, “Oh god, we did, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Mingi smiles, “I don’t think we need to be shy now,”

Your shoulders relax, the air clearing, “Everything just felt like a lot, but you’re right,”

Mingi shakes his head, reaching for you without asking and pulling you into his chest, “Just because you’re not in heat anymore doesn’t mean we’re strangers now,”

“I know,” You let his familiar warmth relax your body further.

“So, let me ask again,” His hand smooths up and down your back, “how are you feeling?”

The word ‘fine’ sits on your tongue but you bite it back and choose honesty instead, “Overwhelmed,”

“I thought so,” He hums, “cancel your car,”

“What?” You pull back slightly in his arms.

“You can’t just run away the second we’re not having sex,” He calls you out so easily it flusters you and you duck your head into his chest, “we need to talk, and you need to sit down and rest. And I know you’re hurting, so just take a breath,”

You nod into him and then lift up your phone, “Okay,”

You feel it lift out of your hands and you don’t hesitate, you wrap your arms around his back and grip him tight, soaking up his warmth and the steadiness of his breath.

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, his voice low and soft, “can you make some tea?”

“Got it,” Yunho says softly.

You don’t know why you suddenly feel like crying, but you do. The body remembers trauma, but it remembers tenderness too. His arms feel right, even without the needy cloying of your primal brain, his body so warm and so steady that it cracks your emotions wide open.

At your first, sharp intake of breath, sounding wet and locked up with tears, Mingi moves. He scoops you up with ease, settling you both back down on the couch and tucking you into his broad chest, “Shh, shh,” he soothes, “I’m right here,”

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” You hide your face in his shirt with a sob.

“That’s okay,” He nods.

“This is so embarrassing,” Your voice is strained and thick with tears.

“Why?” He tuts, “You cry if you need to cry,”

“Hey,” Yunho sounds worried immediately as he comes back into the room, “what’s going on, what’s wrong?”

You sniffle and shake your head into Mingi’s shoulder, your head feeling floaty as you try to focus on getting your blurry emotions under control.

“This is normal,” Mingi says to Yunho, his voice even and low, “just like how flattened out you feel after a rut. It’s a lot of hormones, a lot of emotions, that’s why I wanted her to stay. She shouldn’t be alone just yet, and it’s an alphas job to help ground their omega,”

“I didn’t realize,” Yunho murmurs, and you feel the weight of the couch shift as he sits down with you both.

“Nobody explains,” Mingi shakes his head as he strokes your back, “all they teach you in Secondary Gender Presentations is knotting and pups, but there’s a lot more than that,”

Hot emotion courses through you, and you sob again, “Mingi,”

“Come here,” He pushes your arms a little, prompting you to wrap them around his neck and burrow closer, “You can feel me, right? I’m holding you, I’m right here,”

“Mhm,” You exhale, shaky and broken.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He soothes you, “okay, omega? I’m not leaving, Yunho and I are not leaving you.”

You didn’t even know that’s what you needed, but his words soothe you instantly, the hammering panic of your heart settling slower and slower in your chest.

Mingi clears his throat softly and readdresses Yunho, “She needs to know she’s not alone, especially after a heat that intense. It hits some people really hard, my ex used to be inconsolable after,”

“Jesus,” Yunho murmurs, “I’m really fucking glad you’ve done this before,”

Mingi’s chest jerks as he huffs out a laugh, “There’s a lot more to it, isn’t there?”

Yunho makes a small noise of acknowledgement and slowly you start to feel your emotions level out.

“M-Mingi?” You murmur wetly into his neck.

“Yeah?” He squeezes you.

“Thank you,” You sigh.

“Mhm,” he soothes, “are you still feeling overwhelmed?”

While your tears have subsided, bubbling anxiety still crawls under your skin and you nod against him.

“Are you afraid?” He murmurs, picking up on your trembling hands.

“I don’t know why,” You wish you could articulate it, reach deep down inside yourself and pull free this thread of niggling panic to get to the root of it, but you simply can’t.

“That’s okay,” He assures you, “how about you let me take care of things, hmm?”

“What things?”

“Today,” He explains, “I know you’re stressed and I know you want to go home, but right now I think we should all stick together a little longer. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yeah,” You breathe.

“Good,” Mingi murmurs, “y/n, can Yunho hold you for a little while? I need a few minutes,”

You unwind yourself from him and nod, sitting back so you can see his face. He smiles softly, wiping away your tears with his warm, broad hand. A little piece of you wants to kiss him, settle your fluttering heart once and for all, but it’s probably just the lingering pull from your heat so you push it aside.

Yunho shifts on the couch and positions himself next to Mingi properly, “Hey,”

“Hey,” You smile, sliding off Mingi’s lap and into his, “are you doing okay?”

“Me?” Yunho’s brow raises, “I’m fine,”

“I’ll be right back,” Mingi murmurs, brushing a hand along your hair, and you watch as he disappears into the kitchen.

“Don’t be worried about me,” Yunho says, bringing your eyes back to him.

“You’ve been quiet,” You tell him, “I just… I’m really trying not to fuck everything up just because I couldn’t afford my stupid suppressants,”

His face screws up in confusion, “Fuck what up?”

“Our… friendship,” You manage, “and the studio, and everything,”

Nervous panic strikes through you again and you take a deep breath, closing your hands into tight fists and focusing on the pin pricks of pain in your palm as your nails dig in.

“y/n,” Yunho shakes his head, “not a chance.”

“You say that, but I know how these things go,”

“Why?” He brushes you off with an easy smile, “You think just because I saw you naked I’m going to fall in love with you or something? It doesn’t really work like that,”

Blush flushes your cheeks, “Please, don’t,”

“Fall in love with you?” He clarifies, still smiling.

“Yunho,”

“Why can’t you fall in love with me in this scenario?” He nudges you, trying to make you laugh and break the tense knot that’s been here since you woke up, “I selflessly took off work to have copious amounts of hot, hot sex with you. I made you food, cuddled you all night, basically gave you a sponge bath,”

Your hands relax. “You did not give me a sponge bath, Yunho,” You roll your eyes, “god, you’re annoying,”

“Annoyingly lovable,” He clarifies.

“Fine,” You nod, “annoyingly lovable, but I’m not going to fall in love with you.”

“Then I guess we’re good then,” He assures you.

“And work won’t be weird?” You check.

“Work won’t be weird,” He shakes his head, “is that what you’re worried about?”

“I guess,” You press a hand over your chest, the nervous flutter of your heart still there, “I just… I love this job. I’m finally getting what I want, and I’m making friends, and I have a mentor,”

“Am I your mentor?” He interrupts, eyes widening a little.

“Shut up,” You dismiss him, “you know how much help you’ve been to me,”

“Mentor,” He smiles, looking a little elated.

“Yunho,” You sigh and he clicks back in to your words, “what I’m trying to say is that… sex complicates a workplace, especially heat sex. I don’t want this to…. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m trying to say,”

Yunho catches your fluttering hand in one of his and cups your cheek with his other, “Sex can just be sex.”

“Can it?” You chew the inside of your lip, “For us, can it?”

“If that’s what,” He starts to say.

“Okay,” Mingi returns with an armful of goodies and a warm smile, “I’ve decided it’s a Netflix and nap day,”

“Wait, hang on,” Yunho shakes his head, getting you to face him again, “listen to me. You’re afraid that spending your heat with us is going to change things, affect our relationship and make work different.” You nod a little and he smiles, “I can’t tell you everything will be exactly the same because honestly, we just are closer now. It was intimate, and I don’t know about you but I feel closer to you, but that doesn’t mean it changes our friendship or fucks up our ability to work together. It means whatever we want it to mean,”

Mingi drops the blankets and pillows in his arms and steps closer, “Yunho’s right, y/n,” he murmurs, “we’re adults, this isn’t going to ruin anything if we don’t let it.”

“Friends, then?” You glance between them, “Sex can just be sex, like you said?”

Yunho swallows hard and then nods.

“Friends,” Mingi says.

The panic in your chest starts to recede. “So, we’re okay?” You ask finally.

“We’re okay,” Yunho nods, “we’re perfectly okay.”

“We’re okay,” Mingi agrees.

You nod, exhaling a long breath, “So,” You nod towards the steaming cup on the coffee table, “is that tea for me?”

“Yeah,” Yunho gives you a soft squeeze, “here,” he shifts you off his lap and passes you the warm mug.

“You really don’t mind if I stay a little longer?” You check.

Yunho shakes his head immediately, “I would like it if you did,”

“Okay,” You sigh, the knot inside you finally gone.

“Great,” Mingi goes back to his project, “just hang on one sec,”

You watch as he reaches inside the front lip of the side of the couch you’re not sitting on for a handle and then he pulls, the couch opening up and producing two more large sections of cushion that turns that half into almost a bed.

“You do a lot of napping?” You tease him.

“Ha, ha,” He shakes his head as he tosses out some blankets and pillows, “we have guests sometimes,”

“Ah,” You nod.

He disappears for another moment and when he returns he’s well equipped once again. He waves you over, “Okay,” he says, “tuck in, get cozy. I’ve got some pain killers for you, water, and snacks. I figured we could just hang out, watch something dumb on TV and then if you feel better later or like you want to head home, we’ll take you then.”

You want to kiss him again, and when Yunho smooths a hand down your back and smiles brightly at you, you want to kiss him too. Whatever that means is too complicated to think about for the moment, so you don’t.

When it’s all said and done, you’re sandwiched between them on the pull out, tucked under Yunho’s arm and falling into absolute hysterical laughter at the reality show Mingi threw on. He called it a guilty pleasure with a shrug despite your teasing, and fifteen minutes into the first episode you and Yunho both are ashamed to say you’re hooked.

You can feel sloshing waves of emotion inside you as you let yourself relax, but their proximity keeps you calm and collected. It’s sometime after lunch when you finally take the opportunity to ask Yunho again, Mingi thankfully asleep to your left side.

You prod his leg gently under the covers, “Hey,”

“Hmm?” He glances down at you.

“How are you doing?” You ask softly, prodding him again.

“I’m fine,” His brows knit together in confusion, “why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Using his chest for leverage you shift off him, turning towards him eye to eye now so you can actually have a conversation with him. “You still seem kind of quiet,” You explain, “and you’ve both been so fixated on me and what I need, but I’m just checking in. It was your first time going through someone’s heat, so, I don’t know what that’s like for you,”

Your mind flicks back to the moment you begged him to claim you, desperate and clinging to him, the way his eyes blew wide with wanting and he almost, almost succumbed. His whisper on your throat as he held himself to his promise - Not like this, sweetheart, never like this.

He hesitates, and quietly under the blankets you move your hand into his.

“Yunho,” You prompt him, “it’s okay to tell me,”

“I mean,” He studies your face and then sighs, “I am fine, really, I am, but do feel different.”

“Different how?” You murmur.

“Clingy, still?” He offers, but you can tell he doesn’t really know what to make of his own emotions, “When you said you were leaving I felt sick,”

“Me too,” You nod, “but it makes sense,”

“Does it?”

You shift closer, your legs leaning on his now, “Mingi’s right, we spent four days locked in a room together. All we did was be intimate and share emotions…”

“Then why did you want to leave so quickly?” He asks, no judgment in his voice at all.

“Yunho,” You smile, “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it or not, but I’m not the best at sharing. Or admitting I need help.”

“So you were running,”

“I guess,” You nod, “I was just embarrassed and then before I knew it I had one foot out the door,”

“I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about this,” He shakes his head, sliding his hand up your arm, “I don’t like that.”

You sigh, “I know, but the idea of being back in the studio after this? I mean I’ve worked with you for what, two months? We really barely know each other, I’m the new girl. How am I not supposed to worry about us being too familiar after this?”

“So we’ll be familiar,” He presses, “I promise, it really is okay. Mingi and I are not going to treat you any differently where the work is concerned, but we can be friends.”

“Friends,” You repeat the sentiment with a nod, “you’re right, and these feelings will fade,”

“Feelings?” He says softly.

“Like Mingi said,” You tell him, “it keeps coming in waves, but the consistent thing is that I don’t want to be apart yet, even not touching feels wrong.”

“Exactly,” He nods enthusiastically, “every time you get up to pee I feel like I should follow you and guard the door it’s kind of ridiculous,”

Laughter bubbles out of you and you cover your mouth, glancing over at a still sleeping Mingi, “The protective alpha instincts are really no joke, I guess,”

“Mm,” He smiles, “Mingi has a handle on it, it was just so much more than I expected it to be,”

“How long were he and his ex together?” You ask.

“Two-ish years?” He says, “So yeah, he has a good handle on himself.”

“Do you think he feels the same way as you do?” Your eyes dart back over to Mingi’s fully peaceful face as he sleeps.

“Probably,” Yunho shrugs, “but he’s very good at only letting people see what he wants them to see,”

“I’m getting that,” You murmur.

There’s a long beat between you and finally you twist back to look at him, “I know it’s just the hormones,” you tell him, “but can we cuddle?”

“Sure,” He scoots down on the couch, gathering you close, your head now resting on the crook of his arm, “This okay?”

“Perfect,”

Now that you’re not looking at him, the next thing you say feels so much easier, “I have to thank you for what you did,” you smile, “or didn’t do, I guess,”

He’s quiet for a moment and then, “I almost did though,”

“I know,” You remember the sensation of his teeth dragging along your throat, “but you stopped,”

“I didn’t realize how right it would feel in the moment,” He says softly, “and I just wanted to make you stop hurting,”

You pat across his chest until you find his hand and you lace your fingers together, “You did,” you fight the urge to kiss him, “and for what it’s worth, Mingi was right. I don’t think I could have gotten through this at home by myself, I’ve never had a heat this hard,”

“Now I’m really glad we brought you home,”

“Mm,” You nod, “I don’t know what I would have done,”

He hugs you a little more tightly, “I keep meaning to ask you something,”

“Anything,” You shift to look up at him.

“Suppressants,” He says, “when will insurance cover the ones you need?”

“Nineteen days,” You recite, “nearly there.”

“You’ll be alright until then?” He asks.

“Should be,” You nod, “I’ll have time to onboard before my next heat so everything should be much more manageable,”

“Good,” He brushes a hand along your hair and then settles it high on your back.

You expect him to offer, to indicate a next time, but he doesn’t. Something distant in your gut twists and the thought that maybe this really is a one-time thing. You know it should be, you work too closely together to muddle it all up with all these emotions, especially when you can barely tell now if it’s your biological need for an alpha or if you really do just like them. But the thought of leaving and never being held by them like this again hurts a little, more than you thought that it would.

When Mingi wakes a little later you all stay cuddled up a little longer. You eat dinner together and by the end of the meal, you’re all sitting a few feet apart. You still want to be here with them, but the desperate pull to touch them has faded almost completely by the time you’re done with your spicy noodles.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, and you’ve been away from work and insulated with them for so many days that you feel distantly like it’s the last day of summer and the night before school. You want to stretch out the seconds, avoid getting out of this car and going to bed at all costs, you know once you do life will be back to normal. Four days with them made you yearn a little for something more than normal.

“Well,” You clear your throat softly and pull your bag up from the passenger side floor, “I guess that’s it,”

“Take tomorrow,” Yunho says, twisting to the side from the driver’s seat to face you, “we’ll go back to work and you take one more day.”

“Okay,” You nod, knowing that it’s the smartest way to not seem obvious about sharing your heat with them.

“We had the flu,” Mingi offers, “and it’s just weird timing.”

“Weird timing,” You nod, “okay,”

“What will you tell your roommates?” Yunho asks.

“I’ll think of something,”

Your legs feel like lead as you swing open the door and start to climb out of their car.

“You sure you’re alright?” Yunho leans over to catch your eyes.

“Mhm,” You nod, but suddenly you don’t really trust your voice.

“If you need anything,” Mingi says, practically hanging over the passenger seat from the back to see you too, “tonight, tomorrow, whatever,”

“I know,” You manage, “I’m okay,”

Mingi opens his mouth and closes it again. His hand tightens on the seat. You drag yourself back a few steps and nod, “Drive safe,” It feels like the stupidest, most empty thing to say after everything.

Yunho smiles softly, “Always do,”

“Good night,”

“Night,” Mingi says softly.

“Night,” Yunho leans back in the driver’s seat again, returning his hands to the wheel.

It’s time. You hate it.

You push the door shut, offering a wave, and you force your legs to move as you turn around and trudge up to the apartment building ahead. A nervous bubble blooms in your throat. You want to turn around, but you don’t. The steady sound of the car still idling behind you doesn’t change. When you make it inside, your apartment is blissfully quiet and you tuck yourself away in your room fast before anyone can come and check up on you.

You want to go back, but you focus hard and try to shake it off.

With a deep breath, you allow yourself one tiny moment of weakness and you pull your bedroom curtain aside. Their car is gone, not even the blue glow of their headlights left on the street ahead. They’re gone, and you’re alone again. You don’t even bother to take off the clothes you were wearing, you collapse into your bed and bite back the sudden rush of tears.

All you can smell is stale lavender, and suddenly you wish more than anything for a thunderstorm.

#this night together fic #ateez #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez series #ateez smut #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho fic #yunho smut #mingi #song mingi #mingi fic #mingi smut #yungi x reader #yungi #yungi smut

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mortemappetens · 2 months

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The official fanbook states that Toge’s biggest source of stress is morning assembly and I find funny (although, considering his manner of speaking, I can’t blame him):

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It’s Monday, 8.30am, and because it’s summer the students are gathered outside. Jujutsu High is so far from a normal high school; but for some reason Principal Yaga insists on subscribing to some of the more typical and, frankly, mundane high school experiences.

Morning assembly, being one.

The schedule looks a little bit like this:

All students (wow, six of them, what a crowd) are to be gathered and organised by year at the bottom of the steps of the main campus building.

By 8.30am, all school faculty (all four of them, the fifth being on unpaid sabbatical while the third years are suspended) and the principal should also be present.

On confirming all attendees, they proceed with singing/mumbling the national anthem, voices drowned out by the inappropriately loud speakers blaring out an instrumental accompaniment.

Principal Yaga then takes centre stage to remind everybody of the school rules (perhaps because at least one is broken on a daily basis), before then moving on to students accolades.

General announcements follow, and if there are any, teachers step up to share their own announcements.

Before they end at 9am, Principal Yaga leads a very embarrassing stretching exercise to the beat of some 80s electropop music, then closes with a five minutes’ silence for “quiet reflection”.

And even if it is only once a week, Toge still sweats. Every single Monday at 8.30am, he sweats. It is particularly terrible during the summer, because it feels like he is trapping steam under his uniform. This Monday isn’t any different.

The moment the familiar trumpet instrumentals crackle out of the speakers, Toge feels the eyes on him, the grinning, even hears a giggle, and he is ready to put everyone to sleep just so he leg it the fuck out of there. Because-

Because he’s fucking singing out the list of ingredients for one of Musubiya’s more popular rice balls to the tune of Japan’s national anthem.

Like every Monday, he almost dies on his feet when he hears Panda “discreetly” transition from appropriately singing the anthem to singing rice balls ingredients. Why is Panda even here? The fuck does Panda have to be patriotic about anyway? Aren’t pandas from China? And Toge is pretty sure the materials he is constructed from is made in China, too. Fuck off, Panda.

Like every Monday, Maki sings a very unpatriotic bastardised version, a game of rice balls Mad Libs. This morning, she decided that the opening verse should be, “May the nori of the onigiri last for ten thousand servings […]”. The fuck is that supposed to even mean, Maki?!

Like every Monday, Nobara tries her best at channeling her inner pop idol and belts out the lyrics, each week louder than the last. But of course, with the antics of her upperclassmen, she punctuates each verse with a cackle - each week louder than the last. Come on, Nobara, pop idols never break character.

Yuji is a relatively new addition. He doesn’t know the drill very well. Toge is grateful for it. It is a refreshing change to have someone sing the lyrics of the anthem without inserting any laughter or culinary flairs. He does stare a lot, though. Toge can feel his comically large eyes burn his ears red.

And Megumi- Well, like every Monday, Megumi stands perfectly still, lips slightly parted though no sound is uttered, his eyes resolutely shut. Toge wonders how long it took him to perfect his talent for sleeping anywhere, on his back or standing upright.

And it’s not like any of them can be ignored. There’s just the six of them. There’s no cacophony of voices to drown out Toge’s, no sea of bodies to duck behind. There isn’t the anonymity that comes from being just another student, another face. And surely, most definitely, none of the teachers miss what each of them is doing.

But Jujutsu High is no ordinary high school staffed with ordinary teachers, run by an ordinary principal. And Toge’s no ordinary student. So Principal Yaga doesn’t say a word, Gojo sensei sways to the morose beat of the anthem, Dr. Ieri takes a leaf out of Megumi’s book, and Kusakabe sensei scrolls through his phone. And Toge (and Panda, and Maki) ends the anthem with a mumbled “pickled plum”, wiping the cortisol saturated sweat from his forehead.

At least the worst of it is over. Now he just has to mentally prepare for Principal Yaga’s fucking morning aerobics.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk crack #jjk fanfic #inumaki toge #maki zenin #jjk panda #nobara kugisaki #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #yaga masamichi #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #kusakabe atsuya

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satancopilotsmytardis · 3 months

Text

Changing Currents Ch. 2 Sneak peek

Oh this chapter is gonna be a beefy boy, enjoy a sneak peek because I can't help myself.

Toga, Kenji, and Jin are excited for the party, which means that they are more than happy to take Dabi under their care and bring him along the reef to one of the smaller spires. This one is particularly well-suited for reef-wide revelry, built over years by their sorcerers carefully carving out the rock. It looks the same as the other sharp spires along their reef, with sharp walls high enough to hide that inside it has been carefully hollowed out. There are levels going through it, until at the top, there is a large pool in the stone for those more comfortable in the water, but with plenty of room around the edges for a fire to be lit and for tables of food and drink to be brought for their indulgence. The ship that Toga and her school sunk was more than stocked enough to bring them the means for them to have four or five more large-scale celebrations which he can't say that he's exactly looking forward to.

Parties, open to all of the reef, are just excuses for people to come and try to ply him with alcohol to earn favors or make requests. Or try to seduce him. Make no mistake, Yotsubashi is a strong community organizer and he could really have no one finer in charge of their supplies, but he does not want to get romantically involved with him, even well before Dabi was pulled in by the tide. At least when his father is here there are less Folk trying to pull his attention to get this or that without going through the appropriate channels. At least Shuichi is as uncomfortable in these large crowds as he is and usually will stay nearby to help him out of conversations that he doesn't want to engage in. Atsuhiro also does a good job of distracting, and honestly if Tomura wasn't well aware of how sharp his mind is, he would wonder why he didn't become a bard himself with how he loves to entertain and perform.

He watches Dabi as he's pulled onto the dance floor, Kenji and Atsuhiro quickly surmised that he's more comfortable moving on the land than through the water and showing him how to move along with the music and dance. Like with everything else that he has been shown, Dabi adapts rapidly. He learns that the other two are moving to the rhythm and he watches what others do around him. He has a sharp mind himself, able to watch and build his skills based on the new information he takes in. He dances, holding Kenji or Atsuhiro's hands as they pull him in and out, as they spin him around between the two of them, for a while, but soon he's laughing and smiling, dancing between stone and water to his friends. Their friends. He has been told in no uncertain terms that if he does not do right by Dabi all of his companions will be very cross with him.

He sees Toga and Kenji pull him over to one of the tables, picking up three different bottles and a goblet and thinks that he should probably save his lover before he ends up with an awful hangover, he's stopped as a familiar and unwelcome voice at his shoulder.

"Your Highness,"

He schools his expression into one of disinterest rather than disgust as he turns to the shrimp. "Chisaki." He greets carefully.

The other Folk bows just enough for it not to be considered an insult before straightening up without being given permission. "I trust that you're doing well this evening?"

"Very well. The sirens more than deserve the revelry after their hard work these past few months. Their bounty has brought good tidings to us all."

"That's true," but he doesn't give a fuck about that. "Though speaking of bounties, it could be favorable to look to the future, could it not?"

Here it comes, "I hope," he lets some of his annoyance slip through. "That you aren't attempting to suggest an idea that would infringe on our neighbor's territory and bring us to war. An idea," he stresses as he sees the other Folk start to open his mouth, "that was dissuaded by your late father, the King, and myself on multiple occasions."

"An idea that was unrefined," he says smoothly, though he sees his pincer twitch slightly. "But one that I took the criticisms of and used to create a better one. This kingdom could stretch across this entire reef--"

"It will not." He says putting a bit more force behind his tone. "Our people flourish because we maintain our territory carefully. We keep our reef in balance. Extending our reach in a war that will kill our people for land and resources we don't need is misguided at best and entirely foolhardy at worst." He turns from the other Folk, looking to see where his friends have taken his mate. "We will not be discussing another one of your proposals again, Chisaki. Good evening." It's not often that he uses his status as the prince to end a conversation so bluntly. He's usually more tactful, but neither he nor his father are really interested in war. Not now. Though he would, on a very personal and petty level, like to destroy Hollow Barrier for what they've done to Dabi. But he doubts his mate would actually appreciate that sentiment and he is not going to risk the lives of his people to take revenge that doesn't belong to him in the first place.

He doesn't look back to see if Chisaki is seething, if he rejoins the party or if he departs to sulk, it doesn't matter much to him. Not a surprise though when Shuichi comes up to his other side to check in, "Should I have Jin's people make more patrols near his district?"

"Yes. He's getting more discontent, I would rather know sooner than later if he decides to do something as foolish as attempt a coup." He considers for another moment. "Coordinate with Toga as well, I want to know if any of her school have made their way to his area and anything they might have seen. If anyone can supply evidence of his treason, they will have the pick of his innards."

"He really pissed you off tonight, huh?"

"I'm tired of him nipping at my limbs. No matter the service that his father provided mine, that does not make him above or equal to the crown. He will learn to bow or I will have him broken."

"And you're sure you're not just extra pissy that he distracted you from making sure that Kenji and Toga don't get your boyfriend drunk?" He would normally have let that go, for as frustrated as he is with Chisaki and his lack of respect, there is a difference between him and his lieutenants. The circle of friends and community leaders that he has relied on to ensure that each part of his kingdom works harmoniously together. Friends he trusts to do their jobs well and professionally, but who are his friends when they aren't working. But there is an edge in Shuichi's voice that gives him pause now. The lizardfolk must have heard it too because he winces slightly, looking for all the world like he wants Tomura to ignore it.

"What is it?" And he comes to a full stop, giving a glance at the other Folk around them and very quickly having a section all to themselves to talk.

"...So you're just gonna kidnap him?"

Tomura feels a frown tug at his lips, his friend not meeting his eyes. "Is that what you feel we did to you? You know that if you want to leave, we'll find a way to get you home."

Shuichi runs a hand through his hair. "That's not what I meant. I was a slave on that ship, I was sold by my family. This is the best place I could have found myself. But I don't want to leave. What about him? Just cause he likes it here doesn't mean he's gonna want to stay forever. Doesn't he have family he actually cares about?" He finally meets his eyes again. "I don't mean to overstep, but what happens if he gets homesick? Are you really just gonna let him come and go as he pleases, knowing that he's going back there to starve? And what happens to him? If his people find out where he's been going, who he's mated to, what he's been eating?" He huffs a breath, bubbles billowing out of his snout. "I'm glad you're happy, I am, but you're normally more level-headed about stuff than this, Shig. If you really want to spend your life with him then it might be time for the honeymoon phase to end and for you two to have a serious conversation about this."

He pauses, mulling over the words before he speaks. Friends who keep him grounded and focused where his father encourages his whims and passions with a single mindedness. "We haven't even had the honeymoon yet." He says somewhat mournfully.

Shuichi snorts. "Yeah we know, he would have been more black and blue if you had."

He's well within his rights to smack him across the back of his head with a tentacle. But he does take what he said to heart. "You're right. We have been having some of these conversations, but not all of them." And they should. He would like to know where they stand on this before his father returns and he has no idea how soon or far that might be. "I do appreciate the concern. Though this isn't something I thought you would be interested in discussing with me."

"Oh, trust me, I would have much rather not, but the rest of them are hopeless romantics. Atsuhiro said that every first love should be a whirlwind, but you don't do things without commitment anymore. Figured someone should check in that you're thinking about what that looks like long-term." He leans against the edge of the stone lip, "Besides, we like the guy. Can't have you fucking it up."

"I'm sorry am I claiming him or are you all?"

"Eh, you belong to us and he does too if he decides to stay, and we get to decide if you two are better together or apart. Watch out, Kenji thinks he's a cutie."

"I hate you all, you're insufferable. Tell Jin to put his people on Chisaki's territory."

"Yes, Your Highness." Shuichi takes the dismissal with far less frustration than they began the conversation with and departs to find the starfish.

Tomura doesn't watch him go. He is more interested in getting over to Dabi as quickly as possible as he sees Kenji pouring his cup full and Dabi eagerly bringing it to his lips. Oh no. He weaves his way through the crowd and swims up to the edge of the pool at Toga's side.

"How many has he had?"

"Tomura!" Dabi immediately starts purring, choosing to kneel down against the stone so he can lean in and unabashedly nuzzle their noses together as his purrs get even louder. "Where did you go? I missed you. Will you dance with me?"

"We let him try the rum and the gin--"

"Blech," His mate immediately sticks out his tongue like a guppy and Tomura thinks he's going to perish from how cute he looks like that.

Kenji snickers, "Yeah, he didn't like those, but he is partial to the whisky and red wine."

He sees his lover start to look for his goblet again when he hears the names of the drinks. He uses a tentacle to take it from the stones and shove it into Toga's hands. She, at least, can hold her liquor. "How partial?"

Dabi makes the saddest little chirp at him. "'on't talk around me. I'm here. I'm not small," And there's a slight tremble in his voice that breaks his heart. He catches his mate's face between his palms and purrs back at him softly.

"You're right, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Do you remember how many drinks you've had?"

"...No. Can I have another?" He looks up at Kenji and oh, he is going to let Dabi kill her for the hangover he's going to be suffering in the morning.

"I thought you wanted to dance with me?" He distracts before Kenji can enable him.

Dabi brightens immediately, "Can we?"

"Of course we can, precious." He coaxes Dabi back into the water, he is absolutely not dexterous enough to move on the stone with any kind of coordination, and his mate comes with him eagerly. He does glare at his friends over his shoulder, slashing a tentacle through the air to tell them very firmly that Dabi is cut off for the rest of the night. He has no idea how the other Folk will react to the alcohol and he would much rather not have his first experience drinking end with him needing to see Shuichi for healing.

He's never been one for dancing, but it lights Dabi up the same way he'd first seen when he'd started being able to catch his own fish. A joy fills him up behind his skin that makes Tomura achingly aware of just how empty he looked when they'd first met. His chest aches as he twirls Dabi through the water and his mate laughs loud and bright, blue eyes shining with his glee. He seems so much happier here.

But Shuichi is right. No matter the abysmal relationship with his father, the strained one with his youngest brother and sister, he loves his mother and other brother. He wants them safe and thriving. If Dabi disappears, then he'll be presumed dead. His food rations will stop going to their home, stop going to his mother. He won't want her to starve. He wonders if he would bring her here. He would happily open their home to her. But that's something they have to talk about. There is so much that they have to discuss.

Dabi spins into his arms and gives him a messy, happy kiss before he's darting away again, moving like his body isn't sure if they're playing or dancing. But that's all things that can come tomorrow. Or maybe the day after, given how relentless he's sure his hangover will be in the morning.

#tanco speaks #shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #fic wip #fic excerpt #mer!au

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theonlyren · 1 year

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Ryme City Sylveon

This is Vivi. He’s my Sylveon partner.

Not enough people talk about the Ryme City Incident.

I don't blame 'em. Hell, Ryme City doesn't wanna talk about the Ryme City Incident. Enough near-world shattering crises happen across all the regions on a semi-annual basis that, honestly, our little spat must have seemed comparatively minor. The bullshit with Chairman Rose and Galar literally happened like not even a year later, and what happened here quickly became history. Doesn't change the fact that I've had to take years of therapy just to get to the point where I'm comfortable talking about it, or at the least blogging about it. So... hey, here we are.

I was a Sylveon.

I'd like to talk about that, at least, in the best way written words can allow.

It lasted maybe ten minutes, fifteen tops? I didn't even want to attend the damn parade, but my job had me stationed downtown and it was a big city holiday, so I brought Vivi (the Sylveon in question) with me, found a table at a cafe whose name I can't remember, and decided to just relax. The floats go up, and next thing I know, R Gas is flooding the streets, and my normally sweet and bubbly partner is going fucking feral. I try to calm him down, and then-

I remember recovering from the disorientation. Being on all fours, and the ribbon-feelers in my view. I remember panicking, stumbling on unfamiliar legs. I remember the feedback loop from my own panic as a feeler touched my own head. I remember seeing Vivi's reflection in a tinted window, but not my own, and it all fucking registered then and there. "Holy shit, I'm a Sylveon. I'm Vivi." No, I'm not dreaming. Yes, this is real. I remember just staying stock still, not moving, not doing anything, in utter disbelief at what I was looking at. That lasted maybe a few minutes before I hear someone saying to get out of the gas, I turn and see it's an Arcanine. How the fuck do I understand what an Arcanine is saying? Oh right, I'm a Sylveon, that would explain it. What the fuck is going on!? We crowded around a clear part of the sidewalk, the Arcanine, who I presume is a RCPD Officer, and is just as disoriented as I am, is just trying to keep us in order, asking us if we remember our names, our homes, that sort of thing. Normally I'm an ACAB sort of guy, but bless this dude in particular, he tried so hard.

And then it hits me, "Wait, what the hell happened to my Vivi." I'm in his body, but I don't know what happened to his mind. And frankly, that scares me more. There's no universe where this is okay to begin with, but definitely not if it cost me my actual Sylveon. I'm cognizant enough to not begin screaming for him like he's lost. I recognize I am him. But I still miss him.

As I'm putting all that together, I think the gas finally starts wearing off and... This is where words kind of fail, but, I sensed him, I feel his mind or consciousness or whatever rubbing against mine, and the sheer relief we felt, and then the confusion, and then just... acceptance. Joy. Love.

The Love.

We take that shit for granted.

I will repeat myself.

We take that shit for granted.

If you have a Sylveon partner, I guarantee whatever amount of love and adoration you feel for it is not even a fraction of a fraction of the love it feels for you. I'm not even trying to undersell you. I'm sure you love your partner dearly. Sylveon really is a somewhat unique case. Eevee has to love you in order to evolve into a Sylveon. And when you return and reward that love in kind, It's just...

I'm crying as I remember this.

For maybe a few minutes, I felt and truly understood just how much Vivi loves me. How much it dominates his being, his soul, his very fucking essence. I felt literal Infinity Energy channeled in the form of Love. And no, it wasn't anything untoward. I don't wanna marry my Sylveon or anything and he doesn't wanna marry me. But he was so ride-or-die that his consciousness taking a back seat to my mind and soul piloting his body didn't bother him in the slightest. Shit, it excited him, because he realized he got to share his feelings for me in a way that would have otherwise been impossible, and sweet Arceus did he share.

And then Mewtwo broke the spell, and it was over. Our minds split apart and I had my body back. We just stood and stared at each other. Vivi eventually got brave enough to grab me with a ribbon and...

We hugged for a long, long time when we got home.

How do you answer that? How do you live after feeling love like that, raw and unfiltered, and having it sheared away? Knowing your Pokémon loves you in inexpressible, infinite, uncontrollable ways that makes your own love for it in return pale in comparison? In the aftermath, there were some days where I just couldn't look Vivi in the eyes because I felt like I didn't deserve him.

I can't. Match. That.

And there was fucking nothing I could do about it. It depressed me for years and still does. What could I do? What, leave him? Push him away? Resent it? Fuck no. Those feelings are a fucking gift and it took me a long time to understand that fully. He wouldn't have that love if my own pitiful-in-comparison love didn't spark his evolution. Not a day goes by I wish 5/10 didn't happen. But in the same vein, I appreciate that it did. Howard's vision was misguided, flawed to its core, and despicable. Being my Sylveon was terrifying, wondrous, and beautiful. I'm almost certain I'll never feel love like that in my life ever again, and I'm resigned to live with it. But I am happy, overjoyed even, to know it's there, directed at me and no one else.

I love my Sylveon. And he - capital "L"- Loves me.

#unreality #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #Detective Pikachu #I think about the climax of that movie a lot #Like half the humans in the city easily were pokemon for a hot minute #And it's just kinda glossed over #You could have a sequel based on dealing with the aftermath of that shit alone #Art by Jingo824 on Reddit/FA

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foxmonkey · 20 days

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Yay, eclipse! Eclipse day was great. :-D

I worked from home today, and I had the NASA channel on in another room. Everyone was so excited, I loved it I loved hearing the cheers of the crowds in the path of totality, which sadly, didn't include me. I think we experienced 90-95%.

I went outside to peek..I left my eclipse glasses at work on my desk, I cannot believe it...so I used a pair of UV sunglasses and a welder's helmet. Worked *great* but probably wasn't the most responsible choice. Still, it worked great! I was extremely excited when I saw it happening and kept saying, "This is so cool!" No, this wasn't my first eclipse, but it really is SO COOL.

Bees! I heard the announcers saying something about animals but as I was working, didn't think about it much until...

A carpenter bee (the big fat ones that bore holes) was flying around the back porch (which they do sometimes, since the wood isn't painted). It's getting warm, so I wasn't surprised. Then another one showed up, and they started getting a little more aggressive than usual. I went back in the house for a few minutes so they could calm down.

But! When I went back out another couple of bees had joined the first ones so now there were about four or five of these things flying around, and they were much more aggressive than they usually are. Most of the time they just kind of hover and bumble and don't dive bomb you. But! One of these bees followed me out into the yard and buzzed my head when I tried to stay out of their way! I didn't think about it until a little later, when I heard one of the folks on TV talking about animal behavior during the eclipse. And sure enough, after the eclipse was over, those suckers were gone.

Also, I loved that weird supernatural darkness.

And! Since I had no filter for my camera, I used an old phone for the following picture which doesn't capture the excitement of the moment in the least:

So all in all, a 10/10 experience, would recommend (except the bees).

#eclipse #eclipse 2024 #not just my imagination! per online sources those bees *aren't* generally aggressive (they never have been until today)#they weren't too pleased with the eclipse I'll tell you that #columbus ohio

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krishna-sangini · 9 months

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The Surprise

It was a cloudy day. Not too gloomy, the clouds were just the perfect shade of grey. I was getting ready to spend my day off laying on my couch, reading ‘Hold Still’ for the umpteenth time. It was Sunday, the beloved day for all to go hang out with their friends and family. But I had none, at least not where I lived.

I lived in Bengaluru then, working my new job. It was a great offer; so, even though I had to leave my family back in Odisha, I decided to take the job. The first few weeks were manageable; I was busy with shifting and putting things in order in my tiny new apartment. But after everything was settled, I started feeling the initial pangs of homesickness. I started missing my mom’s cooking, my sister’s annoying giggles, and even our street dogs’ unending howling. In short, I missed even the most annoying things about my hometown.

Work was good, though it was tiring. We had to work continuously for five hours before getting a one-hour break, and then again work for four long hours. The compensation we got wasn’t bad either; uninterrupted weekends at home, and a decent salary along with social benefits. The toil was worth the fruit.

I sat down with my breakfast tray, the T.V. remote in hand. I surfed channels until I reached the news channel. Just when I was about to take a bite out of the aloo paratha, I got a call. A smile spread on my lips as I saw the name on the screen, ‘Rashmi Aunty’. I picked up the call after pressing ‘Mute’ on the remote.

“Hello, Aunty! Namaste!” “Yes, beti. Namaste. How are you?” “I’m good, Aunty. How about you?” “Yes, dear. I’m all fit. By the way, I have a favour to ask.” “Sure, Aunty. What is it?” “Can you call Priyal to check where she’s reached? That brat isn’t picking up my call. She left home yesterday to give you a surprise visit.” “What- O-Okay, Aunty. I’ll call her right away. Bye!” “Bye, beti.”

Priyal is my best friend. We’ve been friends since kindergarten. And yes, she lived back in Odisha. I really had no idea that she was visiting. I was happy and, at the same time, was a bit disappointed that Aunty spoilt the surprise. I smiled and picked up my phone, hiding my excitement even though I lived alone. I turned my back to the T.V. as I walked into the kitchen, ignoring the news playing on the channel.

I scrolled through my contacts and pressed Priyal’s name. The call rang for a few moments, but it was unanswered. I tried her other number; that too was unanswered. “My girl is so dedicated to surprise me. Poor child! I’m just gonna act surprised,” I said aloud. “Ah, dumb me forgot to ask Aunty how she’s getting here,” I said with a facepalm. After another call with Rashmi Aunty, I got to know that Priyal had boarded a train to Bengaluru which was to arrive that day at 10.30 a.m. I looked at my watch, it read 9.55 a.m. I decided to go pick her up from the station myself, intending to surprise her instead.

I changed into a pair of denim jeans and a black oversized hoodie before hopping on my scooty and starting for the station. On reaching, I saw that the station entrance was unnaturally crowded. People were screaming, yelling, and rushing in and out of the station. There were multiple ambulances with sirens; the medical staff rushed into the station with stretchers. Many people were pouring out with bloodied clothes. I began panicking.

I parked my scooty hastily and ran over to an ambulance. I went up to a nurse and asked, “Sister, what is this situation?” The maiden, who had just finished writing something in a register, looked up at me with distressed eyes and replied, “There has been a severe train accident a few metres from the station, ma’am. There have been many casualties. Please move out of the way and make way for the patients!”

I stumbled aside as I saw a severely wounded person being brought on a stretcher into the ambulance. My mind went blank for a few moments. The only image that came to my mind was that of Priyal; she had boarded a train to visit me.

She had boarded a train to visit me.

I rushed into the station and started screaming out Priyal’s name like a mad woman. I collided with many people, some desperately searching for a loved one, some desperately wanting a loved one to find them. Everyone was in hysterics; the atmosphere was one of pure chaos. The air was heavy with dust and the pungent smell of blood. As I neared the edge of the platform, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. A great relief washed over me as I saw the name ‘Piyaaa’ flashing on the screen.

“Hello, Piya?! Are you fine? Where are you right now?” I yelled into the phone the moment I picked up the call. “Hello? Am I speaking to Miss Nayani?” came an unfamiliar voice from the other side. “Yes? Who is this and where is Priyal?” I screamed into the phone, my voice getting louder with each word. “I am very sorry to inform you this, Miss, but your friend…”

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

I ran to the reception and asked for the whereabouts of Priyal. The receptionist gave me a room number and a floor number which I blindly jabbed into the elevator. My legs seemed to have a brain of their own as they carried me to a large crowded room. There were around 30 beds in that room. Each bed was occupied by a patient, maimed and still. And beside almost every bed was that loved one who was waiting for their surprise visit. I scanned the room for the face I was looking for; I found it in a corner. I rushed over to her side. A doctor had just finished examining Priyal and was moving on to the next patient with a disheartened look.

“Doctor, doctor! What is wrong with her? She will survive, right?” I asked desperately, grabbing the doctor’s arm. She held my hand gently and said, “I’m afraid, Miss. You don’t have much time together. We tried all we could. Her spine is badly damaged and 20 of her vertebrae have been crushed. I’m really sorry.”

These words fell on my ears like lightning bolts. I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. ‘Rashmi Aunty’ was the name on the screen. The phone slipped from my grip. I slowly walked up to Priyal’s bed. She had the same face twinkling with mischief, only it was covered with dried blood and hastily wrapped with bandages. Her whole body was bloodied; her arms and legs were covered with bandages too. Her purple tee was discoloured with blood and was torn in many places. The doctors had probably shifted her to this room after examining her condition, and ascertaining that there was no hope of saving her.

There was a drip attached to Priyal, but there was no oxygen mask. The doctors probably didn’t want to waste the precious gas on a lost cause. There was a heart monitor, however, with a feeble reading. I kneeled beside her and took her hand gently.

“Piya?” I called quietly. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at me blankly. After a few seconds, a light of recognition flashed in her eyes as she squeezed my hand. Tears started blurring my vision as I squeezed her hand back.

“Why… Why didn’t you wait for a few more days… Why you…?” I muttered in between sobs. Priyal’s pale lips curled into a weak smile. “Surprise, honey!” She whispered using all her strength. I could say nothing; all I could do was hold her hand and cry my heart out.

“Heiii! Now don’t send me off all messy like that,” I heard Priyal’s feeble voice again. I looked up at her. Her eyes were filled with the same innocence that she had when we were kids. I made a shaky attempt to wipe my tears. Putting on a smile as best as I could, I said, “Shut up, dummy. You’re getting back on your feet within days and we’re celebrating my birthday at my place. No excuses now!”

She chuckled, and I giggled. Tears spilt out of our eyes without us realising. She tightened her grip on my hand. “Baanhi yaar… Tell maa and baba that I’m sorry for not being able to see them for the last time,” Priyal said, sniffing while smiling. “Don’t talk rubbish, Piya! You’re walking out of this horrid place,” I said as if I was consoling myself.

She smiled wider as I felt her grip loosen. “I love you, Baanhi. I’m really happy to have you here with me now. I’m at rest and remember, I’ll be watching over you always…” said my best friend on her deathbed. “I love you more, Piya. I always will…” I muttered. Priyal’s smile never faltered, but the heart monitor did. It showed a flat line.

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

It’s still a cloudy day, even after 10 years. The clouds are the perfect shade of grey, yet it feels too gloomy. It’s Sunday, and I’m on my couch reading ‘Hold Still’ for the umpteenth time. I’m still in Bengaluru, with no family or friends to visit me, except for the bright jolly girl in a purple tee who still watches over me.

My phone rings, and a smile spreads on my lips as I see the name on the screen, ‘Rashmi Aunty’.

“Hello, Aunty. Namaste!” “Yes, beti. How are you?” “I’m good, Aunty. How about you?” “Yes, dear. I’m all fit… I have a favour to ask, by the way.” “Sure, Aunty. What is it?” “Please live well, my child, and be happy.” “I will, Aunty. I definitely will…”

-T.P.N

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

A story that I wrote inspired by the recent triple-train crash in Odisha... The fact that hundreds of people were left waiting for a loved one forever absolutely pained me. I can never imagine the amount of pain these people must have felt...

My heart goes out to those people and the ones who had to leave untimely...

#short story #sad ending #dark #train crash #my_musings

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weekend-conspiracy-theorist · 8 months

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an entry in the tim&steph role swap au

"Bullock," Jim said, just pointedly enough to drag his detective's attention away from the shitty breakroom coffee he'd just spilt on his eternally hideous tie. They'd paused in the bullpen on their way out of a conference room, where they'd been discussing the kind of case that made Jim feel ever closer to retirement.

God, he missed Montoya. She'd have had something incredibly crass to say that would at least have made him want to laugh, even if he wouldn't. He couldn't say she hadn't seemed to be happier with whatever it was she was up to these days (he, very purposefully, did not know what that was), last time she'd caught him for a drink, but he still missed her on the force.

Harvey grunted, glancing up as he snapped his fingers at a nearby officer and made a hand gesture that could easily have meant something rude rather than "go get me some paper towels." Luckily, Marquess caught his drift, and with a roll of her eyes she set aside her pen and rose from her desk. "What?"

"Who is that." Jim tipped his chin across the bullpen, sipping from his own terrible paper cup of breakroom coffee.

Harvey looked over. Squinted. "Berkowitz, I think," he said, and then caught Jim's unamused glower out of the corner of his eye. He squinted again--this time not focusing on Officer Piper Berkowitz, who Jim knew at least by sight because Jim made it a point to know all of his officers (and also because she was taller than every other person in the bullpen), but on the maybe-teen with the big camera and the piercing eyes who was inducing that look of begrudgingly amused annoyance on her face. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her hip propped against her desk; closed body language, unwilling to be convinced by whatever had her conversational partner gesturing so passionately, yet where he looked combative, there was an answering tick of a smile on her lips.

Even as Jim watched, his officer unfolded her arms, sighing, and there was a flash of smug victory in the kid's eyes.

Harvey grunted again. "Some kinda PI. He's popped up a few times recently. For one, he was at that club Supergirl and Wonder Girl busted up, few months back."

It was Jim's turn to grunt. What a headache. It made him appreciate the Batman all the more whenever he had to deal with the young adult super powered set. Even if most of the Bat's brood weren't metas, he had no idea how the man handled that many teens and twenties vigilantes at once.

He sipped more of his coffee. Watched the PI lean on the back of Berkowitz's chair as she pulled up what looked like a license plate search on her computer. "Why's he here and what's he want with Berkowitz?"

"What do they ever want?" Harvey asked dryly. "Information he's supposed to be asking for through official channels, I'd assume."

Sure. But why Berkowitz? was the more important part of the question. She was a beat cop with no particular pull in the department; he only even knew her name because he made it a point to know all their names. He hadn't thought she was crooked, or easily bribed or cajoled--no more than anyone else, anyway--nor especially brilliant at her job. He'd know more than just her name, if she stood out from the crowd, either positively or negatively.

Marquess returned from the bathroom, one hand full of paper towels which she shoved into Harvey's chest. "You're welcome," she said, pointedly, and Harvey scowled at her.

"Keep an eye on it," Jim said.

"Sure," Harvey grunted. He was already more focused on blotting coffee off of his tie.

Jim sighed.

***

The PI--the junior PI, he learned--wasn't any kind of priority for Jim. There were a couple dozen private investigators floating around the city, most of them attached to three or four larger detective agencies, most of them getting their work from law firms and bond agencies. The kid's age and his attitude made him an oddity, but--

Jim was a busy man, with a horrible, thankless job. Oddities were just--

Oddities.

Harvey brought him tidbits occasionally, when he bothered to remember that Jim had asked him to be paying attention. Tim Drake had recently turned 21; he worked for Red Bird Investigations; he owned controlling shares in Drake Industries, a company formed and previously run by his now-dead parents, but he had as little as possible to do with the business; one week, he brought in enough evidence to close the case on a string of robberies that had stretched across the East End, after a young woman grew frustrated with the GCPD's progress and hired him on; the next, he broke the nose of one of Jim's officers after getting in between him and one of Gotham's many sex workers. (The incident was under investigation; no charges were being pressed until it was determined whether the officer had in fact attempted to sexually extort the young man as was alleged.)

Most of Jim's rank and file officers seemed to dislike the kid, and the feeling was clearly mutual. Harvey said it was because Drake made himself easy to dislike, but Jim knew it was deeper than that. He was fighting a constant, losing war with his own people to remind them that they were not above the law; that they were public servants; that just because the man or woman beside you wore the same badge as you did, didn't mean you automatically trusted their word above that of the civilian on the other end of their gun. He just could never seem to convince them not to blindly close ranks around each other--even the clean ones seemed to think camaraderie trumped the need for objective detective work.

Tim Drake afforded Jim's officers none of the respect that they believed they deserved for wearing their badges, and that was what they disliked. Berkowitz, Jim assumed, was one of the few officers with her head on straight enough to recognize the kid could be a useful source of information, if an annoying one.

Jim told Harvey to shut it down, next time he heard anyone talking shit about any private investigators, but he knew even as he said it that he was wasting his breath.

***

"Piper."

It wasn't a shout, but the sheer command behind the name had every head in the bullpen whipping towards the door, including Jim's--

He saw disheveled black hair and wide, pale eyes, a swollen nose and heavy bruising blooming across a tense jawline, and then Officer Miles Franklin threw up his arm and stepped in between Tim Drake and the rest of the bullpen. Berkowitz was pushing her way out of the breakroom, but even her lofty height and broad shoulders had a hard time parting the sea of gawking policemen.

"What are you doing in here, Drake?" Franklin demanded. "This isn't open to the public--"

"Out of my way, pig," Drake snarled, actually snarled, and brushed his arm out of the way. "I need to talk to--"

"The fuck did you just call me?!"

Jim had been halfway out the door into the stairwell on the opposite side of the room when Drake burst into the bullpen, but he still found himself shouting and his feet moving the moment Franklin grabbed the front of the kid's shirt, knowing Drake was about to get shoved bodily into the wall--

Drake moved, faster than anyone Jim had seen without a mask over their eyes, and Franklin was the one plastered against the wall as Drake twisted his arm up behind his back.

Half the room was yelling, but Drake's voice carried. "I don't have time to play games with you when there are kids in danger, you self-aggrandizing scum of the earth goddamn poli--"

Berkowitz yanked Drake backwards by the collar of his tshirt. His feet actually briefly left the ground. "What kids, Tim?" she demanded. Steady; calm; a distinct counterpoint to Drake's trembling fury.

"Fuck," he cursed, with feeling, and even before his toes touched back down he was fumbling in his messenger bag for that same massive camera Jim had seen him carrying the last time he was in the precinct. "Piper, I found Carrie Prentiss--"

"The runaway?" Franklin asked scathingly, as he yanked his uniform shirt back into place.

Drake and Berkowitz ignored him, though she shifted between the two of them to break his line of sight on the PI. "It's a fucking trafficking ring, at least ten kids involved, and I think they're moving them tonight. I've got--"

He barely had to shove the camera into her hands before she was already flipping through the pictures in the gallery, her own jaw tightening.

When she noticed a presence leaning over her shoulder, she whipped her head around, something nasty on her lips--but it died when she realized it was Jim. Neither of them had noticed him telling the rest of the room to shut the fuck up and stand down.

"Where is this?" he asked Drake, gruffly, as he took the camera out of Berkowitz's hands; Drake rattled off an address down near the docks, his hands flexing at his sides and nearly vibrating in his boots. Had to have taken him thirty minutes just to get here. "You couldn't just call 911?"

"And have them send a marked cruiser to check my story? Make them move those kids immediately?" A trickle of blood had begun to leak slowly down his upper lip, and he swiped it away with his shirtsleeve, adding sardonically, "I also may have stumbled into some of Falcones' boys in my haste to put enough distance between me and their people to safely make a call to Berkowitz. I was three-quarters of the way here before I shook them."

"Your fucking luck," Berkowitz said flatly. "That's got to be the third time this month you've 'stumbled' into some kind of enforcement bullshit."

"It's a talent. Comissioner, please--"

Jim had seen enough. License plates; faces; identifying marks. Zip ties on wrists too small for handcuffs. "I need SWAT on the phone yesterday," he snapped. "Simmons--"

***

It was a long night.

Most of them were long nights, but this was--

It was a long night.

"Thank you," he said, gruffly, and resisted the urge to give Berkowitz a side eye. She was a full head taller than him; he wouldn't get much out of it.

Berkowitz was the one to bring him coffee, looking tired and faintly apologetic, as he observed Drake's after-the-fact questioning. Jim suspected he wasn't the only one on an adrenaline crash; despite his typical standoffish and abrasive demeanor, the kid had turned over his SD card readily, additionally offered up the case notes he also had shoved into that messenger bag, and was at least neutral, though not quite polite, as he walked Simmons through the work that was going to result in fourteen reunited families, by the time they finished tracking the rest of the kids' parents down.

(Carrie Prentiss's mother was out in the bullpen, holding her daughter tightly and sobbing, comfortable in the knowledge that her decision to hire a private investigator had saved over a dozen lives.)

She just sighed, staring through the mirror at Drake. "He been behaving himself this whole time?"

"More or less."

"Minor miracles."

Jim snorted. He sipped the coffee. "How'd you end up in the middle of this?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. "Not exactly your beat."

"No, not my beat at all," Berkowitz agreed, and there was something in her tone that had Jim turning, his eyebrows rising. She scrubbed a hand over her face. Left it pressed against her cheek as she watched Drake through the mirror.

"Four years ago," she said quietly, "I'd had my badge just long enough to think I knew a little bit about what I was doing, when me and my partner of the time got dispatched to the aftermath of a home invasion. The paramedics were already there, and it was--well. There've been way nastier murders in Gotham, but not ones I've personally been on the scenes of. The guy's sixteen-year-old son had got home right after the perps left, tried to do CPR; he was covered in blood, had been going so long he'd broken some of his dad's ribs, was refusing to let the paramedics pull him away. Turned out I actually had absolutely no goddamn clue what I was doing, that had become clear the second I stepped into that house, but someone had to get that kid out of there. So I picked him up under the armpits and carried him right out the door." She held her arms out straight, demonstratively. "Kid cursed up a blue streak, fought like a demon, and I just held him there on the front lawn, let him go at it until all the fight just... left him."

Berkowitz breathed in slowly through her nose, letting her arms fall. "When the tabloids came knocking, wanting the scoop on the most violent murder in Bristol since the eighties, straight from the lips of the first responders who had pulled Jack Drake's son off of his lifeless body, I was the only one who told them to go to hell. Guess Tim appreciated that. There are a few other officers he's willing to work with when he has to, but I'm the only one he ever seeks out willingly. He's a perceptive little brat, probably knows I have a hard time holding his attitude against him when I know where it comes from. When I don't always disagree with him."

Jim, as deliberately obtuse as he ever was, definitely did not think about a coat draped over a young boy's shoulders or a black cape that may have one day replaced--

He didn't think about it. "This goddamn city," he said, instead, and Berkowitz snorted.

"Every day I wake up and I think, 'This is it. The day I finally fucking quit.' But I never do it." She scrubbed a hand over her face. "Sometimes I think Tim's probably right, when he gets frustrated with me for acting too much the cop and starts getting nasty about my life choices. I don't know if we can really change things from the inside. But what the hell else am I supposed to do?"

It wasn't like Jim had never asked himself the same question.

"The best you can," he told her gruffly, and drained the rest of the coffee she'd brought him.

***

Jim had added new data points to his list about Tim Drake:

The kid was, objectively, a genius. He was also, objectively, an asshole, and a trouble magnet, and suffering from a terminally self-important case of "being twenty-one years old." It all formed a picture of a brilliant, traumatized teenager who was growing up into an ewually brilliant adult with a massive chip on his shoulder, but Jim didn't--

There were still questions.

Where the hell the kid's boss ever was, for one. It had been a minute since Jim had brushed up on the State of New Jersey's training requirements for private investigators, but he was pretty sure Drake shouldn't have had as much free rein as he did. Why even a traumatized millionaire's son would turn to private investigating instead of running the company he wanted nothing to do with and nonetheless refused to let go of. How he got half the information he turned up with, because even a genius didn't have encyclopedic knowledge of Gotham's crime families because he "liked to keep his ear to the ground," as Berkowitz reported, making scare quotes and rolling her eyes.

The oddity was becoming a genuine concern, low in Jim's gut. Drake only seemed to be blunt and standoffish; Jim became more certain, every few and far between time that he watched the PI move around his precinct, that Tim Drake was a man who played his cards close to his chest; who never gave up more than he got back; who was pulling strings to get what he wanted even when it wasn't clear what that was.

It was time for a second set of eyes.

***

Jim wasn't surprised that Drake figured out what was happening before they made it to the roof of the GCPD. Those sharp, pale eyes of his didn't miss much; they certainly didn't miss the ROOF ACCESS sign or the keycard Jim swiped to open the door.

"Gee," Drake drawled, massive coffee cup in one hand and the other tucked nonchalantly into his pocket. "I don't think I'm supposed to be up here, Commish."

Jim had been amused to realize, the first time he had an actual talk with the kid, that Drake was utterly torn between his instinctive dislike of police officers and his begrudging personal respect for Commissioner Gordon, and he tended to compromise by alternately being sarcastic or quiet, rather than boldly rude and antagonistic like he was with most of the department.

An expression twisted across Drake's face, there and gone before Jim could identify it.

"Special circumstances," Jim said gruffly. He didn't even have to look to find the switch for the Bat Signal; his fingers found it on autopilot. He'd summoned the Bat on accident more than once when he'd come up here to smoke and didn't notice himself going through the motions. "You've helped us close a few big cases recently, and I like to make sure all my resources are familiar with one another."

"Makes sense," he said, with another unidentifiable note in his voice. Amusement, maybe. Not that that made sense.

The Bat wasn't going to take long to show up--Jim had given him something of a heads up in advance--and so Jim was particularly on alert as he lit his cigarette. He didn't go so far as to peer directly into the shadows, but he kept his attention on his lighter and searched his periphery. He felt the shift in the air when he arrived, but wasn't sure yet where he'd landed. Was that corner there darker than normal?

"Batman," Drake greeted calmly, turning his chin to gaze at a different shadowy corner, and Jim felt his eyebrows raise as Gotham's Dark Knight stepped slowly into... well, not into the light. But out of the worst of the gloom.

"Tim," Batman returned, as unflappable as ever.

Jim took a drag of his cigarette, fighting back the surprise that wanted to blossom across his own face.

"OH MY GOD!"

The excited shriek split the night, and Drake--who Jim had yet to see wearing any expression that wasn't some combination of stoic, smug, or pissed off--lit up like a Christmas tree. His coffee cup sailed towards the trashcan by the door (missed, barely) and he sprinted towards--

Jim took an involuntary step forward, a gasp strangling his voice, as Drake leapt off the roof.

He seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and then a second figure, blonde hair and a grapple line streaming behind her, slammed into him. Drake's arms flung around her neck, Batgirl's arms flung around his waist, and she spun him in a circle once her boots touched down on the rooftop, laughing delightedly. In a move too fluid to be improvised, their grips reversed as she was setting Drake down, and then he was spinning her around instead.

"Tim!" she cried, throwing her arms up as she leaned back into his grip. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"When the hell did you get back from space?!" Drake demanded.

He tried to put her down, but Batgirl was suddenly clinging to him, octopus-like, with all four limbs. "God, check your messages. Literally, I had walked into the Cave when B was like, 'Oh, I've gotta go to the GCPD,' and I was like, 'Fuck yes, it's been forever since I got to hang with the Commish,' and stowed away in the Batmobile. Wonder Girl and Impulse say hi, by the way, and--"

Batman cleared his throat.

His expression, even through the cowl, even through the gloom, was long suffering. Jim--remembering the migraine he'd gotten from dealing with Supergirl and Wonder Girl--felt an uncommon surge of pity towards the man in the cape.

"Go find another roof for your meeting, B, we're busy," Batgirl told him sternly, but she did disentangle herself from Drake, leaving only one arm possessively curled around his shoulders.

"I take it you've all already met," Jim said, with nominal good humor and just enough bite to remind the Bat that their flow of information was meant to be a two-way street.

Batgirl's eyes got big behind the cowl, reflected in the way it pulled at her cheeks. "Ooh, is that what this was supposed to be?" she stage-whispered to Drake. "What'd you do, huh? Break another cop's nose?"

"Another?" Batman repeated.

"Don't worry about it," Drake said calmly. Batgirl cackled as Batman's expression grew further pained. "Officer Pickens has bigger things to worry about. Like the IA investigation." He paused, squinted at the Bat, and added, "Don't give me that look. Unlike all of your little minions--" he flinched as Batgirl pinched him in retaliation-- "your disappointment has literally no effect on me."

Batman, visibly, took a breath. "Honestly, Jim," he said, just a hint more exasperated than gravelly, "I was trying not to jinx you. You don't deserve to have to deal with this."

"What am I, Beetlejuice?" Drake asked dryly. "You say my name three times and I'm summoned from the ether?"

Batgirl pressed her nose to Drake's ear, whispering something that made his mouth curve up in a wicked smirk. He tilted his chin towards his shoulder, telling her quietly, but not quite quietly enough, "Robin and I bonded while you were gone. I think it's giving him a better idea of the kind of shit we used to pull, and he wishes he was still oblivious."

Used to pull, Jim thought. (Didn't think, not really, because he didn't want to know.) They'd clearly known each other a long time. He couldn't remember any male, black haired, teen vigilantes in Gotham when Batgirl had been Robin, which meant--

He wasn't thinking about it. He genuinely, deliberately, would not be looking for 5'8"-5'11" blondes in Tim Drake's personal life.

(Especially not ones who intersected with his own daughter's.)

Jim took a drag off his cigarette. Although...

"There was a kid," he said slowly, "who used to 'run messages' into the precinct on behalf of some anonymous tipster. Montoya always suspected he knew more than he was letting on. Kid had such a baby face, wonder if he's lost it now that he's an adult."

Neither Drake nor Batgirl reacted, in a way that was a reaction in and of itself.

"Sounds irresponsible on behalf of the tipster," Drake managed, keeping his face as straight as possible. "Getting a kid involved like that?"

Batgirl coughed.

"I'm gonna stop asking questions before the answers keep me up at night," Jim decided, stubbing his cigarette out on the side of the Bat Signal--there was a bare spot in the black paint, just there--and tossing it into the trashcan. It stuck on the coffee splattered against the lip, drawing attention to the cup on the ground next to it, and Drake looked faintly embarrassed.

Batgirl cocked her head to the side. "You could've almost looked cool if you'd actually made that."

"I hate you," Drake told her.

"You wish you hated me," Batgirl told him.

"I wish I'd never had children," Batman told Jim.

Batgirl brightened, even as she picked Drake up in a fireman's carry--he yelped, scrambling to hold on--and grabbed her grapple gun off of her belt. "Good thing I'm not your kid!" she said, cheerfully, and for the second time tonight someone jumped off of the GCPD roof.

Jim tucked his hands in his pockets, surveying the living gargoyle in front of him. He waited long enough he thought the kids were out of earshot, then waited some more until the Bat gave him a slight nod. Figured they'd tried to hang around to eavesdrop. "I take it that whatever ulterior motives I'm detecting in him, they're probably nothing to worry about."

"Hngh." Batman shifted, and his cape brushed gently against the concrete rooftop. "I recently found out she's been manually deleting him off of my World Domination Predictive Algorithm spreadsheets for years," he admitted. "There's a lot of uncertainty to those anyway, of course. And I... trust her judgement."

"You trust his?"

"Nominally." The barest hint of a smile. "As far as I can tell, he hasn't ever tried to take over the world."

Jim snorted. "Your opinion has been noted."

"Anything else you needed me for?"

Jim crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the wall. "Word on the street is Black Mask has been making moves into Triad territory. Any ideas why."

"Mm. Three weeks ago..."

#jim gordon #tim drake #stephanie brown #all those words just to get to commissioner gordon trying to introduce tim to batman #bruce wayne #the tim&steph role swap au #acab but the veil of fiction lets us pretend there are Some cops really truly trying to make things better etc etc

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xtruss · 10 months

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10 National Parks To Avoid The Summer Crowds

From rugged hiking trails to pristine beaches, upgrade your summer at these under-the-radar wilderness areas.

— By Elizabeth Kwak-Hefferan | June 2, 2023

Two spelunkers explore Lechuguilla Cave—currently reserved for scientific research—in Carlsbad Caverns National Park, home to some of the deepest, largest, and most ornate caverns in the U.S. Photograph By Robbie Shone, National Geographic Image Collection

The most popular national parks in the U.S. such as Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon attracted record crowds last summer. For some, it might be worth fighting traffic or walking packed trails to see the towering granite monoliths in Yosemite or fireflies in Great Smoky Mountains. But, there are 63 national parks across the country, many with far fewer visitors—and just as many hikes with epic views, wildlife-spotting opportunities, and kid-friendly excursions.

Here are 10 of the country’s least trafficked parks, plus what to see and do in them.

Best Water Excursions: Channel Islands National Park, California

Hikers and kayakers find ample ways to explore this constellation of five wild islands off the coast of Santa Barbara. Beginner-friendly paddling trips, like the one from Scorpion Anchorage on Santa Cruz Island, let visitors take in abundant sea caves, kelp forests, and wildlife such as gray whales, dolphins, and sea lions. Strong currents and shifting weather make going with a guide a smart move.

Remote islands like Santa Rosa have hiking trails through rugged mountains with glimpses of wildlife, including tiny, endemic island foxes, at dawn and dusk. Spend the night at Santa Cruz Island’s only lodging option, Scorpion Canyon Campground, a half-mile hike from the beach.

Composed of five tectonically formed islands and surrounded by an extensive marine sanctuary, Channel Islands National Park offers dramatic sea views, epic wildlife watching, and scenic hikes. Photograph By Robert Schwemmer/Alamy Stock Photo

Voyageurs National Park, Minnesota

More than a third of this Northwoods network of boreal forests and rocky islands is covered by water—four huge lakes plus 26 smaller ones. New environmental protections make now an ideal time to experience these waterways via a tour boat, canoe, or kayak. Easy-access shoreline campsites line the park’s major lakes, but the wildest, quietest destinations sit deep in the interior of the Kabetogama Peninsula. Reserve a backcountry campsite along the Chain of Lakes or on the central peninsula’s waters, where your only companions for a spectacular aurora borealis show will be the loons and moose.

Best Wildlife Viewing: Kenai Fjords National Park, Alaska

This coast-meets-mountains reserve takes wildlife watching to the next level. Use the park’s only maintained long trail to the outlook over Harding Icefield for breathtaking panoramic views of this expansive, icy landscape. Along the way, keep an eye out for grizzlies, black bears, wolverines, lynx, wolves, and mountain goats. From a kayak or tour boat, look out for orcas, humpback whales, and dolphins among the waves and Steller sea lions and harbor seals on the beaches

Carlsbad Caverns National Park, New Mexico

Brazilian free-tailed bats are a star attraction at this Chihuahuan Desert park. Each year, these flying critters make their way back from their winter grounds in Mexico to roost in the park’s intricate network of limestone caves. August and September bring the best bat watching when the year’s babies take to the skies with their parents. Around sunset, the bats spiral out of the cavern’s Natural Entrance by the hundreds of thousands to eat insects.

Top: The glacial landscapes and coastal waters of Alaska’s Kenai Fjords National Park provide ideal conditions for viewing wildlife, like these Steller sea lions pictured. Photograph By Cagan Sekercioglu. Bottom: Thousands of bats spew out of a cave in Carlsbad Caverns in search of food. Photograph By Michael Nichols — National Geographic Image Collection

Best Hiking Trails: North Cascades National Park, Washington

Known as the “American Alps,” this park holds more than 400 miles of trails that take hikers and horseback riders to wildflower meadows, old-growth forests, glacier viewpoints, and remote lakes. One standout is the Desolation Peak Trail, which leads to a mountaintop lookout cabin where Jack Kerouac spent a summer. North Cascades remains well off the radar: Just over 30,000 people visited last year, a mere 2 percent of the traffic of its southern neighbor, Mount Rainier. The terrain is so remote and wild, the park is considering restoring grizzly bear populations here.

Mesa Verde National Park, Colorado

Explore the sunset-colored canyons that ancestral Pueblo people called home in Mesa Verde. Here, skillfully designed cliff dwellings, some with up to 150 rooms and large enough to house one hundred people, remain tucked into protected stone alcoves, just as they’ve been for 800 years. In summer, rangers lead hiking tours inside some of them, including Cliff Palace, the largest such village in North America, and Balcony House, which involves climbing up cliffside ladders and crawling through rock tunnels. After dark, look up. Mesa Verde’s skies are well-protected from light pollution, earning it International Dark Sky Park status in 2021.

Tourists visit the ruins of Cliff Palace in Mesa Verde National Park., Colorado.Photograph By Phil Schermeister, National Geographic Image Collection

Best Cultural Experiences: Dry Tortugas National Park, Florida

Accessible only by boat or seaplane, this park offers pristine beaches, exceptional snorkeling, and the chance to explore the historic Fort Jefferson. Located on Garden Key, the second largest of the park’s seven islands (70 miles from Key West), the military stronghold was the largest masonry fort in the Western Hemisphere during the mid-1800s. During the Civil War, it became one of the nation’s largest prisons.

Visitors who brave the two-plus-hour trip by boat or 40-minute ride by plane to get here can tour the grounds where Union prisoners (like the doctor who set John Wilkes Booth’s broken leg) were imprisoned during the Civil War. After strolling the grounds, explore Dry Tortugas’s other major attraction: superb snorkeling among coral reefs where you might see octopi, nurse sharks, reef squid, and barracudas.

Haleakalā National Park, Maui, Hawaii

More than 30 miles of trails wind over ancient lava flows and through endemic silversword patches before plunging into the summit crater of Haleakalā. Native Hawaiians consider the summit a sacred site, where they held religious ceremonies, studied the stars, and quarried basalt for centuries. On the other side of the park, visitors can still see their village ruins and fishing shrines at tropical Kipahula, an 800-year-old coastal settlement that’s now better known for its crashing waterfalls and the idyllic Seven Sacred Pools of ‘Ohe’o Gulch.

The famed Haleakalā Crater is a vast depression—but it's actually not a volcanic crater. It was formed as erosion ate away a ridgeline, joining two valleys in Haleakalā National Park. Photograph By Pete Ryan, National Geographic Image Collection

Top: To avoid crowds, visit Haleakalā summit after 3 p.m.; its sunsets can be as spectacular as its famous sunrises. Bottom: Erected in 1958, the Haleakalā Observatory is Hawaii’s first astronomical research planetarium. — Photographs By Babak Tafreshi, National Geographic Image Collection

Best For Family: Indiana Dunes National Park, Indiana

Kids will find more than just a day at the beach in this welcome pocket of nature amidst the nearby bustle of Chicago, a 45-minute drive away. An impressively diverse number of ecosystems in this compact park let families explore wetlands, oak savannas, pine forests, prairies, and 15 miles of sandy shoreline in a day.

There are also opportunities for kayaking the coast of Lake Michigan or canoeing the Little Calumet River (the park was upgraded from national lakeshore status in 2019). The in-progress Indigenous Cultural Trail features murals and interpretive signs that teach about the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi and the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma, two of the area’s original peoples.

Top: Mammoth Cave—Kentucky’s only national park—contains more than 400 miles of caves, making it the longest cave system in the world. Photograph By Phil Schermeister, National Geographic Image Collection Bottom: Park visitors stand up paddle board along the Grand Calumet River on the outskirts of Lake Michigan in Indiana Dunes National Park. Photograph By Keith Ladzinski, National Geographic Image Collection

Mammoth Cave National Park, Kentucky

Escape the summer heat by exploring a labyrinth of underground caverns that maintain a refreshing temperature of 54°F year-round. To see the caves, you’ll have to take a ranger-guided tour. These vary in difficulty, with options for families with young kids to enjoy the stunning stalagmites, stalactites, and tunnels. Or for the older kids, try the longer, more challenging tours by lantern light.

During the guided tours, park rangers point out remnants of early inhabitants’ mining activity dating back to 1200 B.C. and tell the stories of enslaved Black cave guides from the 1830s and the “Cave Wars” between rival tourism developers in the early 1900s.

#National Parks #Summer Crowd #Wildlife #Cultural #Family #National Geographic

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apocalypticavolition · 9 months

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Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 3: The Peddler

Welcome back to my reread of The Wheel of Time with all sorts of hideous spoilers you should be running away from if you don't want to know them. Run like your britches are on fire, or I guess the opposite of that since if you're on fire you should probably stop.

Anyway, this chapter begins with the Dragon's Fang symbol, which typically symbolizes male channeling, Dragons real and false, and sometimes Darkfriends in these early books. This time around it's probably mostly about the news that's come into town.

The man on the wagon was Padan Fain, a pale, skinny fellow with gangly arms and a massive beak of a nose. Fain, always smiling and laughing as if he knew a joke that no one else knew, had driven his wagon and team into Emond’s Field every spring for as long as Rand could remember.

It is just a wee bit unfortunate that Fain's got the Jewish-coded nose situation, what with him being a merchant and also having a low-key obsession with murdering the current incarnation of Jesus.

Also the joke is he hates you all and hopes you die.

Fain, however, spoke freely if often teasingly, and spun out the telling, making a show to rival a gleeman. He enjoyed being the center of attention, strutting around like an under-sized rooster, with every eye on him.

It's probably this character defect that explains both why he fell to the Shadow and rose so quickly through the ranks to end up a lowkey Forsaken type. Dude probably heard that saying the Dark One's name got his attention and started chanting it under his breath wherever he went to the point that a Darkfriend had to be dispatched just to get him to STOP.

...his friendliness had always been of a peculiarly distant kind, backslapping without ever getting close.

Just practicing for the backstab, that Fain.

He'd be a great villain if in addition to sidestepping fate itself he didn't end up sidestepping the plot. Guess in a series all about fate, doing one is necessarily doing the other. But that's something else to get around to later.

“I had been thinking you were going to stay out on the farm through the whole Festival,” Perrin Aybara shouted at Rand over the clamor.

It's Perrin. I'd be excited about this but... Meh. He's probably my least favorite of the six main characters. I don't hate him but... Well, we'll get there.

Nice of him to finally show up though. (Nice of the show to put him in the mix right away.)

He could easily have pushed through the throng, but that was not his way. He picked his path carefully, offering apologies to people who had only half a mind to notice anything but the peddler. He made the apologies anyway, and tried not to jostle anyone as he worked through the crowd to Rand and Mat.

Note here that Perrin's way is "Do something in the least efficient way possible while offering up a lot of performative bullshit that does absolutely no one any good and is completely ignored anyway." We'll be coming back to this in book four if not sooner.

Rand’s last words exploded into utter silence, catching the peddler with an arm raised dramatically and his mouth open. Everybody turned to stare at Rand.

I dunno, the "protagonist accidentally shouts something that everyone hears due to an unexpected silence" shtick works better when it's genuinely hurtful or embarrassing. You'd think a bro telling someone "We'll talk later," would be the exact kinda shit you'd expect to hear right as it goes quiet at this kinda shindig.

His friends shifted uncomfortably, too. It had only been the year before that Fain had taken notice of them for the first time, acknowledging them as men. Fain did not usually have time for anyone too young to buy a good deal of things off his wagon.

Considering that none of the three of you have the means or reason to buy a good deal of stuff off of the wagon even now, I suspect Fain's interest is based a lot more in the whole hunting you down thing.

“What could be worse than wolves killing sheep, and men?” Cenn Buie demanded. Others muttered in support.

This is a very low-key thing to note in the Jordan Gender Jamboree, but as you'd expect for someone of his age, and not as you might expect for a land that is supposed to be gender neutral and might even be a bit pro-woman (nowhere near as much as real life is pro-man though), the gender neutral term for a person is "man".

“It’s evil times! No one claiming to be the Dragon Reborn for twenty years, and now three in the last five years. Evil times! Look at the weather!”

Gonna be six (add Taim, the unnamed False Dragon of Haddon Mirk, and Rand himself) in as many years in just a few months. Everyone except the dude who confused the DR with the DO is being pretty reasonable despite the general sense that they're being a bit panicky. Life's about to suck for you people.

“I didn’t hear Fain say this was a false Dragon. Did you? Use your eyes! Where are the crops that should be knee high or better? Why is it still winter when spring should be here a month?”

Again, Cenn Buie isn't quite as wrong as the narrative tries to play him off as. Logain ain't the real deal but he and the weather are portents of the end of the age.

A stunned silence fell. Rand looked at his friends. Perrin seemed to be seeing things he did not like, but Mat still looked excited.

This is dramatic irony because of course Perrin will be the kinder friend when it turns out Rand can channel and Mat will be a little racist about it. Though Perrin does dip out sooner while Mat stays to be helpful as long as he can.

“Enough of that from you, boy.” Cenn shook a gnarled fist in Ewin’s face. “Show a proper respect and leave this to your elders. Get away with you!”

And here's where Cenn veers back into the unequestionable dick category. Ewin's also got a point, and the narrative and Moiraine will be answering his question ("Why would a man channel if the taint ensures a fate worse than death?") soon.

“A party of them has ridden south from Tar Valon. Since he can wield the Power, none but Aes Sedai can defeat him, for all the battles they fight, or deal with him once he’s defeated. If he is defeated.”

And this right here is the driving force behind all of the societies of the Third Age (and one of the subtle indications that the AoL wasn't all that great, because they're actually mid-tier in their answer and below the modern west): how do you deal with channelers? Sadly, most societies chose to answer with, "Not very well."

That was Wit Congar; he hunched his shoulders at the stares some of the others gave him, but he held his ground.

Wit's priorities check out. Logain's in Ghealdan, which is close but not so close as to be an immediate threat. Daise is right here in town and she's already pissed and she wants her fucking pins.

Aes Sedai and wars and false Dragons: those were the stuff of stories told late at night in front of the fireplace, with one candle making strange shapes on the wall and the wind howling against the shutters. On the whole, he believed he would rather have blizzards and wolves.

This isn't quite dramatic irony because on the whole Rand's opinion never changes. Dude wants blizzards and wolves instead of the crap he has to deal with the whole damn time.

“Not if it means Aes Sedai here, either,” Rand added. “Or have you forgotten who caused the Breaking? The Dragon may have started it, but it was Aes Sedai who actually broke the world.”

Way to pass the buck, Mr. Dragon.

But I think a lot of the fandom forgets about this misconception when they're confused about why people are so mistrustful of Aes Sedai. The average person doesn't fully parse that "dude Aes Sedai went crazy and fucked the planet," they miss that first word and so in many ways Tar Valon is a potential powder keg in their eyes.

“What kind of need would be great enough that we’d want the Dragon to save us from it?” Rand mused. “As well ask for help from the Dark One.”

Answering your own question there, aren't you?

“Burn me!” Mat growled. “I’m only telling you what the guard said.”

Sorry Mat, I have to side with Perrin here and I never like not taking your side, but the last few years have taught me pretty well that people who repeat bullshit are just as much of a problem as the bullshitters.

Mat’s grin broadened. “It was last spring, just before the cutworm got into his fields and nobody else’s. Right before everybody in his house came down with yelloweye fever. I heard him do it. He still says he doesn’t believe, but whenever I ask him to name the Dark One now, he throws something at me.”

It's rough being an atheist in a world where at least one sort-of deity is perfectly happy to fuck you up, isn't it Bili?

Nynaeve al’Meara stepped into their huddle, the dark braid pulled over her shoulder almost bristling with anger.

Nynaeve! <3

It's going to be so wonderful when you put the sticks down and start beating people with the power of your soul instead, though. I can't really approve of a society where anyone, man or woman, is allowed to walk around beating people, even if it's someone as wonderful as Nynaeve is going to be.

Egwene stood a few paces behind the Wisdom, watching intently. Of a height with Nynaeve, and with the same dark coloring, she could at that moment have been a reflection of Nynaeve’s mood, arms crossed beneath her breasts, mouth tight with disapproval. The hood of her soft gray cloak shaded her face, and her big brown eyes held no laughter now.

And the last of the EF5 appears! Egwene's a really interesting character because of how well she throws herself into whatever culture she's in, so it's only natural that she starts out aping Nynaeve perfectly.

At the best of times he was never very nimble with his tongue when talking to any of the village girls, not like Perrin...

It's the first appearance of the fandom's favorite running gag. All three of the boys are absolutely convinced they're the worst at talking to girls. I think the narrative wants to suggest that they're all mostly alright at it except under big pressures, but I take a different tack: they are all equally awful at it and so wool-headed they don't understand that their best buds are just as bad as they are.

"...If I know them, they’re asking all the wrong questions and none of the right ones. It will take the Women’s Circle to find out anything useful."

This is taking the battle of the sexes really almost too far just because I can't possibly understand what questions Nynaeve thinks are wrong or unasked.

“Will you dance with me tomorrow?” That was not what he had meant to say. He did want to dance with her, but at the same time he wanted nothing so little as the uncomfortable way he was sure to feel while he was with her. The way he felt right then.

It's too abrupt a segue, he's lucky Egwene likes teasing him or she'd never have said yes.

Somehow, it had never occurred to him that she would reach marriageable age at the same time that he did.

It is pretty odd! Egwene is two years younger than he is and generally the sorts of societies where girls are eligible younger instead of at the same time are patriarchal ones where they're traded around like livestock. With livestock, when dowries are involved.

A proper egalitarian society wouldn't be rushing girls into adulthood and marriage sooner, especially since at 16 plenty of them will still be physically maturing. (And note that even at 18 both sexes are still mentally maturing.)

Egwene gave an exasperated sigh. “Well, maybe I’m strange, too. Maybe I want to see some of the places I hear about in the stories. Have you ever thought of that?”

Since I'm going to give Jordan lots of gender-related shit, I will give him props for having a story where the boys all really wanna stay home and not deal with epic adventures while the main girl is desperate to set out, see some interesting sights, and make something of herself in the process. It's a good and universal motivation and more fictional women need it!

“Of course I have. I daydream sometimes, but I know the difference between daydreams and what’s real.”

Not for long you don't! Of course, Egwene won't either due to her T'A'R habits. Really, by the end of the series both of you will have come to the independent conclusion that the world of dreams is the baseline, true reality while the physical world you inhabit is just a collective daydream everyone's having.

“That wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about me. Egwene?”

No Rand, you definitely were talking about both of you. You really are bad with the ladies and in this fight Egwene is not being silly at all to take offense to your words. Maybe you should see if Tam can buy a dictionary off of Fain while he's here so you can perfect your rhetoric.

“So he believed you,” Rand said, but Perrin shrugged.

Luhhan never gets the attention that Tam does, but he's definitely a good father figure. Bonus points to him for not ever dying or nearly dying.

“And you’ve been spreading these tales. Sometimes you have no sense, Rand al’Thor. The winter has been frightening enough without you going about scaring the children.”

One of Egwene's more unfortunate character flaws is her tendency to see the worst in all of her friends whenever the opportunity arises. I'm probably going to discuss this too because I have very complicated feelings about her - when she's aces she's aces but... Well, being snippy at Rand here is not the worst of what's to come. Frankly, Rand doesn't even get her at her absolute worst.

...the door of the inn opened and a man with shaggy white hair came hurrying out as if pursued.

Hooray for Thom! With his arrival, we've seen the entirety of the main TEotW party, though there's still several more main characters this book is going to introduce (and really we don't stop meeting mains until like book 9). Sadly, this is the end of the chapter, so I'll be stopping here.

Next time: Queen Elizabeth II! Sally Ride! Advice columnists no one remembers anymore! Nuclear annihilation! Stuff happening contemporaneously with the narrative instead of occurring some ten thousand years prior!

#let's read #wheel of time #the eye of the world #wot spoilers #wheel of time spoilers #rand al'thor #tam al'thor #mat cauthon #perrin aybara #egwene al'vere #nynaeve al'meara #padan fain #thom merrilin

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mareastrorum · 10 months

Text

WIP Wednesday: TF&TS (Bounties)

Here are two related scenes from early chapters of a longfic I am working on.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the encounter with the Iron Shepherds, but a short time later, a spirit had begun hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

This fanfic will be posted on AO3 starting hopefully by Friday 7/28.

3 FESSURAN 835 PD

“I have encountered some ‘inspiration’ to improve on my work. Acquire some specimens for me.”

The man picked up a slip of paper with scribbled notes. “How many?”

“An initial set of twenty will do for now. Ten thousand gold for living subjects. One thousand for remains. I anticipate that obtaining survivors will be implausible, considering their abilities. However, I will take any live ones you can find.”

“Is there a deadline?”

“Preferably as quickly as possible, though there is no particular end date. To encourage expediency, hint that the bounty will be reduced as more subjects are obtained.”

“Any other conditions?”

“Unspoiled. Deduct from the pay for lost limbs, severe damage, et cetera. Use your discretion.”

“Very well. I will get word out to the appropriate channels immediately.”

“Be sure to keep this anonymous. They are all dissidents, but with this new war, there is no need to risk further social upset. A quiet purge of the more heretical Julous remnants is best.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Find more on that one from today. He had a team as well—look into them, especially the Xhorhasian.”

“Yes, Archmage.”

* * *

17 CUERSAAR 835 PD

Bull wasps were such an interesting species. Other than the usual diet of pollen and fruit, the aggressive insects also hunted. In addition to spiders and insects, they used mandibles to cut into corpses and harvest flesh from within, feeding the next generation on the fallen. They had an uncanny memory for faces, recognizing their foes and attacking without hesitation.

However, bull wasps preferred live prey. An apt symbol for the Archmage of Dysology.

Master Doolan Tversky had lived nearly two-hundred years by now, and the clever gnome had never quite grown out of her enjoyment of pulling things apart. Tversky was responsible for researching arcane biological threats to the Empire. Biological weapons were rampant in the prior age, and her research into the monstrosities of Molaesmyr, Shattengrod, and Xhorhas ensured the safety of Western Wynandir.

At least, that was the explanation provided to the Crown so that its representatives would stop asking annoying questions when the Cerberus Assembly took steps to understand such magics.

And now, the Assembly had provided a project far more intriguing than mutated and extraplanar monsters. A domestic threat, long tolerated because of their usefulness in eradicating fiends, undead, and fey without cost to those in power. Simple, non-magical mortals capable of using their blood to evoke enchantments. How intriguing such a weapon would be in the Assembly’s hands. How dangerous it would be in the Crown’s. How profitable it would be in the Myriad’s.

How fortuitous it would be in Tversky’s.

The operating room was too crowded, but there was no helping it. They had to work quickly in light of the unnaturally rapid onset of postmortem decay. Dozens of assistants, dressed head to toe in medical gowns, face masks, and hair nets shifted about five tables busily, like wasps tending to their queen’s commands as they prepared the dead for processing.

Tversky stood atop a floating disk and looked down at the corpse before her. She began dictating while an enchanted quill rapidly took down notes. “The date is the 17th of Cuersaar, 835 post-divergence. Subject number 21 is an adolescent human, estimated fifteen years of age, approximately five-foot-four-inches tall, weight one-hundred-fifty-one pounds, no remarkable identifying features other than numerous inch-long scars on the right palm.”

The other teams called out their confirmation of the same scars on their subjects. One of the assistants was sketching the hand and scars in case the arrangement was relevant. Another inspecting the skin raised their hand.

“Master Tversky, there are small scars on the outside of each upper leg,” the woman noted. “They resemble hyper-pigmentation spots. Same position, each approximately equidistant from the hip and knee.”

“Subjects 5, 13, 20, 29: confirm,” Tversky droned as she moved to inspect the scars herself. It would have been easy to miss if they had not matched. Within seconds, four more voices replied to confirm their subjects shared the same marks.

“Subject 20 has similar marks on upper arms, also equidistant from shoulder and elbow,” a man called from another table in the operating theater. Without instruction, another voice confirmed the same for subject 29. Tversky checked the human before her; indeed, there were two matching scars on his arms. She made a verbal note, her quill dutifully recording.

“Subject 29 also has matching marks on hips,” a woman added. No one else confirmed. This human did not have that set either. Odd. The larger subjects had more marks.

Interesting.

“Gather records of control subjects of the same race and sex for comparison,” Tversky instructed. An aid standing by made a note and disappeared out of the operating theater. “The rest of you, I expect careful dissection of each section bearing those matching scars. Continue.”

The others droned in the background as the teams shifted around their subjects and dictated their own reports. Buzzing insects hovering as they collected information.

“Subject 21 was deceased upon arrival, reportedly due to resisting arrest…” Tversky continued narrating as she inspected the wounds. Severe contusions on a right broken arm—the blow of a blunt weapon. Burns on the face, likely from some magical attack. But the lethal strike had been a large laceration across the neck, severing major arteries, destroying the windpipe, and damaging the spine in a single strike. Bounty hunters were so indelicate with her subjects. Her assistants were much more adept at pulling the subject apart to understand them.

The pungent smell of rotten meat and sharp sweetness filled the air as they began to cut. The face masks hardly blocked anything, but there was no avoiding it. The work continued rapidly, a well-choreographed dance while voices hummed, flat and on numerous registers.

Limb by limb. Organ by organ. Piece by piece.

“Master Tversky, there appears to be no alterations to the blood,” a man called from behind.

Tversky frowned and shifted her hovering platform over to the machines behind the operating table. The assistant stepped back from an apparatus with a small monoscope aimed at a blood sample held before it. She looked through the lens and was disappointed to find normal cells magnified in her view. Nothing strange about the blood. No altered structure. No unexpected developments. No arcane glow. No hint of magical taint.

That couldn’t be right. How could these cultists use blood as a component for magical enchantments if the blood itself did not carry any power? Perhaps the blood itself was not the source of the magic, but merely a conduit. Or perhaps the effect only lingered while the subjects lived. Could the act of sacrifice have meaning? There was only one school of magic that operated on such rules.

Necromancy.

To think the Assembly had allowed the Claret Orders to operate within the Empire for so long, and this was what they had been up to. The Martinet would want to hear of this. Such power could not be trusted outside the Assembly’s control.

Tversky looked back at the dissected corpses, each attended by several assistants who were carefully cataloguing their findings. A dragonborn, two humans, a gnome, and a dwarf, so it was not specific to race. These particular subjects were seen casting spells, but others were not. So far, she had categorized them into four potential groups, and they all could invoke those weapon enchantments, so that had nothing to do with their other magical capabilities.

Even more confounding: most had been carrying marks or talismans of the Raven Queen. That goddess abhorred necromancy—rather, so the clergy claimed. Could it be that perhaps these cultists were intentionally offending her? Or was it that the common understanding of her followers was subterfuge?

Perhaps those ties should be confirmed before informing the Martinet. After all, he had a habit of disproportionately weighing theories of the gods’ machinations. Tversky preferred to follow clues to their logical conclusions. At least, at first.

Tversky waved her quill over and used it to begin scribbling notes by hand. Even if the blood itself was not magically imbued, there was some significance to the spellcasting. The Orders called themselves “blood hunters” after all. She would need to test it properly to establish what sort of component it was. Perhaps infusing test subjects with the blood would yield something interesting. She rapidly wrote a note for her subordinates, which folded into a wasp and flew out the door.

What else? Those short-sighted Cobalt Soul idiots could be sitting on something useful. They were close-minded morons, but they were still adept at hoarding niche information. Tversky’s subordinates would not be able to access any of it because of the organization’s ridiculous ban. She scribbled another note to Baroness Iresor, the paper rapidly transforming and on its way. That young woman was lazy and distractable, but she had a knack for getting information that was otherwise off limits.

“We are ready to proceed, Master Tversky,” one of the aids called.

Tversky sighed. Right. Next were the bones. She returned to her position by the subject, now carved open with several assistants recording their own notes by dictation as they readied their instruments.

“Proceed, then,” Tversky instructed. The sound of snaps and cracks soon filled the air as needles and blades carved into the remains.

Those cretins had better find a live subject soon. Tversky was bored already.

#TF&TS #wip wednesday #critical role fanfiction #the cerberus assembly #the claret orders #blood hunters #horror #autopsy #mild gore

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pixeldolly · 1 year

Text

SWAT - Round 1 - Singles

Evenings at the Singles’ house were lively events. Between the four girls (and, sometimes, their guests) the little living room could get pretty crowded. They could never agree on which channel to have on, either: Lola and Erin wanted the news, Chloe complained she wanted to catch up on her favorite reality show and Kristen wanted to watch the latest football game.

So, they devised a daily rotation system to keep everyone happy. Well, mostly; as they sat watching the Llamas face off against their adversaries, Chloe was muttering that now she wouldn’t get to see whether Dina Caliente got booted off Pleasure Island or not.

One program they checked religiously was the local weather bulletin, which day after day predicted more snow and freezing temperatures.

Erin: “Curiouser and curiouser...no pun intended, Lola.”

Lola: “Pun? Oh, right!”

Erin smiled, trying to cheer up Lola whose career as a comedian had come to an unceremonious end when her audience walked out after heckling her mercilessly. Now she worked as a mascot for kids’ parties.

Chloe: “I know, right? I swear I saw a fox out there the other day! A fox in Strangetown!”

Trista: “That was a skunk, babe.”

Chloe had been pretty drunk at the time, and Trista had had to drag her away from the animal before she got herself sprayed.

Lola: “By the way, Erin, I haven’t received your contribution to the household funds this month.”

Erin: “You’ll have it by the end of the week.”

Lola: “Okay, cool; just checking.”

Lola then turned her attention to her sister.

Lola: “Speaking of which, when are you planning to get a job, Chloe?”

Silence.

Erin: “Lola has point; it’s not fair that the rest of us contribute and you don’t.”

Taken by surprise, Chloe didn’t know how to defend herself. She’d had this conversation with Lola before, but never in front of others. And Erin! Why were they ganging up on her?!

Chloe: “I haven’t been able to find anything! You know how hard it is to get a job!”

Lola: “I haven’t seen you actually looking for one.”

Chloe: “I have! It’s just...not all of us have a fancy college degree, all right?! Not that yours seems to be much use these days...”

Lola was stung by that, not least because it was true. Her eyes narrowed as she faced her twin, who, if she was being honest, had always been a flake. Ambitionless, aimless, caring only about frivolous things.

Kristen was right. It had to end, one way or another.

Lola: “Listen, you’re my sister and I love you...but if you can’t pull your weight around here you’re going to have to find somewhere else to live.”

#sims 2 #the sims 2 #sims2 #ts2 #strangetown #sims 2 strangetown #strangetown with a twist #twst: singles #twst: lola curious #twst: chloe curious #twst: erin beaker #twst: trista shaw (redhead)

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eightysixed · 1 year

Text

She didn’t know why she was meeting him again, especially here. It was so dirty. For someone who was so clean that not even dirt stuck to the bottoms of her 4-inch Sophia Websters, she was finding herself enshrouded by the filth of this parking lot. A homeless looking man was staring at her. She tried not to show disgust, but her upper lip curled, and she tapped her toes impatiently waiting, in the cold and just-rained backlot waiting, waiting. Not sure what she was even waiting for.

She couldn’t remember when she’d seen him last without blood on his face. He liked that, though, revelled in it. The more blood the better, of course that was always the way.

A car drove past with headlights on and she backed up to avoid the splash of a puddle, pressing herself closer to a doorway that would at least partway conceal her. She didn’t want to be seen tonight, or any night really that she was meeting him. He drew crowds, large ones. And married women were not supposed to be seen in surreptitious parking lots at one in the morning.

“You couldn’t wear anything less conspicuous?” he said, and she immediately swivelled to the voice. She saw the cherry flare up ember-orange before she saw his face. It was hooded.

“And you couldn’t wait until too fucking late,” she responded. Now people were definitely going to notice them. She pulled her coat closer. “I don’t like this.”

“Does he know you’re out so late?”

She rolled her lashes skywards, heavy and thick as bear fur. She was close to leaving, so close, one heel turned slightly at angle, as if she was ready to sprint out of there at any sign of something. There were plenty of signs already.

“I mean it.”

“He’s out of town.”

“Oh. Is that why you came?”

The smoke smelled nasty and she wanted to pluck the cigarette out of his hands and stomp on it. She was not a violent person, though every now and then she got pushed to it — everyone did, that was human. But ten seconds in his presence and she was thinking the worst things.

“I...forget it. Don’t know why I came.” She swallowed the ‘came’. Huddled her arms tighter like she was cold and looked anywhere but at his face. There were goosebumps under her trenchcoat, but not from the rain.

“Uhuh. Look, if you wait five more minutes, we can get out of here.”

“I don’t have five more minutes.”

“You came here to tell me that?” He broke into a smile. She had missed it.

“Yes, actually.” No, she hadn’t come here for that. She had come here for the other thing. But looking at him, she knew. This was it. “I came here to say there won’t be any more. No more.” She tried to stop herself from having a panic attack, but it was hard. She was the kind of person who wore her heart on her sleeve, on both sleeves, and her pinafore, and everywhere else that was visible, every stitch of fabric. She couldn’t hide as much as a there-and-gone guilty twitch.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

Fuck this motherfucker. Fuck all the misery he had brought upon her just by virtue of being himself and everything he stood for.

But maybe she could be convincing, for once in her life. Sometimes she could be scary. She was going to channel that. She kept her eyes open, poised, a fox stood on all four haunches ready to dart — or attack. “I am. In fact, I’m going to leave now, and you’re not going to call me, you’re not going to text me, you’re going to forget I exist and that’s how this is going to go.”

“Wait, what?” Now he looked confused, and she could see that she got him. He flicked the cigarette aside, and it landed in a puddle. Another car drove by. She turned her back to it. “You’re serious now.” It was a question and statement all at once.

“Yes. I’m tired of your fu—I’m tired of this shit, and I’m done with it. I’m just done. That’s it. Okay? That was all.”

He could see the hurt on his face, she had broke through and gotten to him. Maybe it hurt her even more than she was hurting him right now, this much she could also tell, because she could see him building up the walls, every second that went by, that he looked at her. It didn’t take all that many seconds before the wall was impenetrable. But even there, behind that wall, she could see it. The well of a tear that would refuse to fall. He never let anybody see him cry, not even his own reflection.

“Yeah? Alright,” he said, nodding. He licked his lips and looked up, looked like he was about to take off for the hills and never come back. She didn’t know what she was doing, just that she had to do it. In an eve or two she’d call Neil, cry to him yet again. He’d invite her over and pour her a large goblet of Merlot from the grapes he grew in his garden, and she’d talk and talk and vent and pour all of herself down the drain and he’d comfort her with his words. Neil was always good like that. It wouldn’t help, but it sure would soothe. Not that anything was soothing her in this moment right here. She prayed to every spirit out there that she wouldn’t cry.

“You never wanna see me again? I can do that. Easy. Say no more, your highness.” He laughed in that really sick way she hated. Just before the wedding, he’d done that too. “You’ll never see me again.” He decided to make good on that promise starting now, and before she could even say another word more, he had vanished.

She had no business standing there any longer, someone was bound to find her, some nosy late night jogger, they were always all over the place in this town. She had crossed the length of the parking lot before she knew she had.

“Miss?” An unfamiliar voice called her. “Miss?” It called her two more times before she stopped in her hurried catwalk, turned on her heel to look. He caught up to her. “You dropped this.”

The white tie belt had slipped from her trenchcoat and now it was dirty, brown and wet.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it from the chubby hands. He stared at her for longer than was probably appropriate.

“Is everything good?” She nodded.

She tried not to make a scene at the train depot but it happened anyway. Sat opposite a mother and son with a panda backpack, the sweetest child that usually, under better circumstances, she would have smiled at. She would have unclipped one of the butterflies from her shoe and given it to him. But now all she was did was bury her head in her hands. Someone came over to check on her, one of the weary attendants that swept the perimeter. “You alright, ma’am?” Attracting too much attention when she wanted none, the story of her life. But perhaps the way she was hunched over, he thought she was drunk, or out of it somehow. It was raining outside now, hadn’t let up since before she got in the uber to the station.

“Yes. I’m fine.” She thanked him. The concern stayed etched on his face, but seeing her upright, he eventually left. He too, had things to do. Outside it rained, and inside it rained as well, the rain creeping into the platform past the arches that protected and sheltered the rest of it from the elements. Had it worked? She wasn’t sure. There had been so many ‘last times’. This one felt more final than most. She needed it to be true.

Hey...are you awake? Sorry I know it’s late. Ignore this if you’re sleeping or half asleep. Haha.

She sent the text to Neil. Then she regretted it. Maybe Curtis would’ve been a better idea. He wouldn’t ask questions. While she pondered over what she had done and what couldn’t be undone, what should have been or should not, her phone reminded her why she hated them and believed they were satan incarnate. A new memory for you! On this day, 2 years ago:

She opened it. She dry swallowed. She wanted to throw her phone onto the train tracks just as a train passed by. But no train was in sight, not even hers, which was due. The wait felt excruciating and unending.

#self para #idk what this is

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dis-nightmare-continues · 1 year

Photo

the nurturing son

he buys into the culture nature vs nurture vulture in the city vulture wearing leather with someone else’s cult advertised on the sleeve

experienced lingo of course he identifies

with the movement movement, between between, movement

of course

loud music in the park cocaine habit both his parents

he supports both his lovers

of course he buys into the culture curse the movement, vulture in the city of cocaine and mdma out in the sticks where he

shakes his hands out in the boonies where deals are real he shakes his hands

his leg in the city

charity he supports

in leather with someone else’s ego

advertised on the sleeve

his pleasure he sings he sings his pleasure every

chance he gets, his diet, his mind his body of course he sings

his pleasure every chance

he gets

on the side of a building in the alley it’s a busy night and there’s a streetlight out two cigarettes illuminate four baggy eyes under a moonless sky

new acquaintance, there’s recognition in the way they ash and schmooze pretending to know one another’s city better than they may if it weren’t for brandy’s voice

peeking through

some things slip through

the space between awareness

circumstance

a general understanding of shared

a sense of sincerity, or at least a thriving towards

such a sentiment through one’s gestures, and a

connection brick cold desert evening

dropped 10 degrees out of nowhere

pleads threshold my insatiable my own self

show me what it is that you know, he what secret let you through the to see beyond the absoluteness of desire and overcome my mistrust of

my own

mistrust in god the student and the teacher are roles

genuine feeling of needing

that we (must choose to) perform

seven years of exploration seven years of self reckoning with observer

found guilty on all counts

regeneration, healing arts long forgotten or undiscovered

now made available from within

A new sense of pride paired with an understanding of one's own limitations

moments come and go, people prove to be but ghosts whose purpose has since expired and lay wandering in your mind like

parasite and host

lost in memory, for illusion of contentment but who is it that you look to? Who is it that you're so afraid to let down?

false musings under a full moon, a group of pacifists with varying intentions and a unified goal carry their mothers wood body through the trees to burn

there's merit in this pyre, these throats they sing like toads in broken sadness, their toes cold but far from decay, protected in wool.

cold pale night breath thick as smoke they sing, sing to their mother they burn their mother the wood they burn

party concrescence

disco ball unleashed unto art studio floor it's your day comes crashing down the disco ball

comes crashing on to the art studio floor hard thunk

for cheap plastic all laugh no beer spilt all dance

all laugh

the opening continues drama intersecting unfolding narrative with an unspoken theme life of value

illusory revelation of which time in all its angles can be seen

toilet bowl alchemy it's a manifesto a flier on a wall in a yoga studio that serves as

a kratom speakeasy at night students Om in euphoric joy–perform improvised rituals of ecstatic movement men in black stand side by side, facing the crowd fluorescent psychonauts, right, I saw this in a dream once rainbow gathering motel party interdimensional speed dating and now it's hard to differentiate between the dream and what happened in reality

"You might want to go ahead and save my number, captain it's gonna be a long night and we aren't so well acquainted although I hope one day to be."

insufferable identity reclamation novel

I am hungry, wungry, and wise don't despise the water in your cup wet that whistle, watch it erupt you have so much dry brain how can you expect to write? Isn't the artist just channeling what someone else might? mites at your wrists on nights spent alone who knows who you could have been, reconciling what was lost–deep in thoughts but no way left to act. Act not and discover the sanctity of silence. The hermits delight. alchemical attachment, alternatively detached delight

————————————————

A lucid dream from long ago

projected into the present, I know this place, I mean I knew it even before I knew it from a dream.

A spiral of memory winds tight around sacral chakra threatens the lungs in restriction, neural pathways caked and calcified in dietary decisions long replaced

chipped away at by chaga, lions mane and MDMA, one moment at a time revealed now to the patient observer A time laps of seasons passed

you're too tired to skip over

waves of ideology, or a deeper sense of broadening one's own understanding of what's even going on–life lived through an unseen observer/ life lived for hedonistic pleasure/ life lived as a collection of memories, found

hardly anywhere at any given time

It's a way of being that tends to isolate–it inspires suspicion and runs you paranoid and hot, still your heart illuminates whether true archetypal inspiration is accessed or not

A long forgotten youthful dream of a lover who needed me, yes dear, this moment spent so close to you (hot breath, condensation, safe) was seen too, a premonition that saved me when I was a child with nothing to love or embrace

————————————————

False productivity

go ahead and explain this to my parents when I'm dead

I stopped believing in a consistent vision of reality. Ever changing ideology to match an ever changing world

and so set out to discover the times and the movement and found no great unifier just disconnected lexicon of youth who emulated what they didn't fully understand

It beat university commodification of consciousness a refraining of the same western values paying homepage to itself

shakers and tricksters make love in the woods, yearly ritual of everything and anything new age reductionism

Buddhist mistranslation psychedelic induced schizophrenia Smoke Smog Night

————————————————

this is where you were meant to go breathing in burning leaves in ritualistic sanctity. You don't quite fit in here, but you wear it nonchalant you've looked all across the country for a chance to lay your head at an inn with a view of the mountains. It's time now, those mountains, how they call, it's time now, cold at last, delightful cold your lover jumps up and down on

the wooden floors of her apartment. the bears are sleeping, but we do not sleep breath burning leaves

do we not sleep

————————————————

guilt don't pay the bills, so

don't go deeper into delusions of re evolution of the species

keeps you up at night how darwin

must have lost

sleep neurotic daydreamer

try to heat your cabin by candlelight

i moved out here to get away from everyone

who ever said they loved me search aimlessly

simply exploring urban landscapes for sake of

some sense of indoctrination into a reality i grew up fetishizing

disneyland too late

cleveland ohio too late

the post surrealist

pseudo industrial anti intellectual revolution will not be streamed on twitch

i wrestle with dopamine i take out my frustration on lower vibrational creatures for my envy of poets long dead

for i know not what life is like outside the framework of abandoned factories who roofs offered views that were once the furthest i had seen from home

————————————————

what good is an

art town without art a thick layer of makeup on a puffy corpse

Patagonia colonizers never seen at night offensive mediocrity on brutalized land

mother mountain's passive hand she watches from the Jemez for ignorants to ignore

to rest, to heal a cowards chore

#poetry #zine #chapbook #poet #raw poetry #modern poetry #words #funny poetry #me #scott mcmaster ii #santa fe #new mexico #visceral realism

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still-astray · 2 years

Note

ok so I have a request for Sophie! :) so basically it’s like Sophie gets injured during the maniac tour and the members reaction of the maknae getting hurt. I would say the injury could be a fracture in her ankle which takes six weeks to heal so she wears a medical boot and has to wear crutches. You don’t have to do this if u don’t want to! <3

a/n: no worries! i found this fun to write even though it did get a little angsty 🥲 thank you @mynameisnotlaura for the request! i wasn’t sure whether you wanted a scenario reaction or a bullet points reaction so i went ahead and did both <3 hope you enjoy!

taglist: @fromfreesia @skz-angel @skzfairies

•🧚🏻‍♀️•

Chicago Med

the Chicago performance goes a little haywire.

genre: slight angst, comfort

word count: 2.4k

bulletpoint word count: 715 words

total word count: 3.1k

warnings: mention of injury, brief mention of needles, hospitals, very brief swearing

•part one•

“Shit.” The word dropped from Sophie’s lips before she realized what she was saying, and she clapped her hands over her mouth, hoping nobody heard.

Hyunjin glanced her way, looking a bit surprised. “Wait, what’d you say?”

“Uhhh…. ship!” Sophie exclaimed, perhaps a little too innocently. “I uhh… I ship Minsung!” she said in a burst of inspiration, seeing Minho and Jisung both looking at something on Minho’s phone.

Minho looked up at her words, eyebrows hitting his hairline. “Wait, what?!”

Jisung chuckled. “You’re forgetting that she’s a massive STAY at heart.”

Sophie felt her ears burning with embarrassment, considering that she’d never actually shipped any of the members, but kept up the act because she knew she wasn’t supposed to swear. “Uh, yeah,” She tried to laugh it off. “Still adjusting to being a member… hehe.” What the flip am I saying… I sound so awkward. And I really sound like I’m trying to cover something up…

Hyunjin didn’t look too convinced, but he let it slide for a couple of moments before moving seats to sit by Sophie. “Okay, Bubble, we both know what you actually said, so why’d you say it?” His tone wasn’t condemning in the least, it came off more like a genuine curiosity, much to Sophie’s relief.

“These shoes.” Sophie motioned to the tall boots she was supposed to wear. “I really don’t know how safe they are for dancing.” All the stories and videos she’d seen about idols getting hurt onstage because of their outfits or props were tumbling through her mind, needless to say she was frightened that she might end up the subject of one of those stories or videos.

Hyunjin picked up one of the boots and examined it. “At least it’s a wide sole,” he commented, “you don’t have to worry about heels. I do wonder why they made you wear something stiff like this though.”

“Is there any way to-“ Sophie began, but was cut off by a staff member announcing that it was time to get microphones set up and get backstage.

“Nevermind,” she muttered disappointedly as she followed her members from the dressing room and through the halls.

•🧚🏻‍♀️•

Chan was already waiting backstage for them. “Okay, they for some reason tasked me with handing out mikes, which is fine,” he said, quickly passing each member their mic. “And you guys all know the order of the songs?”

Eight yes’s chorused back, almost in perfect unison.

“Okay, so we’re on in five, starting with Maniac.”

The cheers of the crowd reached a Sophie’s ears, and she felt a thrill laced with nerves run through her stomach. The pre-performance anticipation still liked to attack her just as hard as it had her first concert, but with experience and help from the boys she was learning how to channel it in order to stay energetic onstage.

“Five… four… three…” She heard Chan counting down under his breath, and the butterflies kicked it up a notch, leaning almost towards the feeling of electric shocks. “…two…”

Taking a deep breath, Sophie made sure she was in the right place in their line, and adjusted her white crop top to fall a bit lower on her stomach.

“…one.”

Easy was one of those songs that Sophie had never found easy to perform. It made her want to perform a dance not unlike what one might improvise to the music of a snake charmer instead of the set choreography.

Unfortunately, Chan’s decree that she wouldn’t be doing any sexy dances in public until she was a certain age and maturity applied to concerts more than anything.

Tonight she was actually doing a really good job with keeping the correct feel for the dance, judging by Minho’s discreet thumbs-up a moment ago, and that spurred Sophie to try even harder to maintain the right aura.

Until, that is, the toe of her boot caught on itself and twisted, sending her crashing to the stage.

“Sophie!” shouted Jisung, rushing over immediately with no concern for finishing the song. As soon as they realized what happened, the rest of the members followed, ignoring the ending notes of Easy.

“Sophie,” Chan said worriedly, picking up her upper half and supporting her. “I can tell you’re hurt, but where?”

“Ankle,” breathed Sophie, holding back tears of pain so she wouldn’t worry STAYs any more than she already was. Hyunjin and Changbin were already taking off the cumbersome boot to let the affected ankle swell if need be, while Jeongin rushed backstage for the doctor.

“Hey, Bubble,” Chan said gently, “they’ll probably want you backstage for a few minutes while they check your ankle, so why don’t we head back there?”

Sophie nodded, and Chan picked her up in a princess carry, turning her to face the audience before they left. “Wave to STAY,” he whispered in her ear, and Sophie did, sending the fans as much of a smile as she could muster. The crowd, which had gone mostly silent when she’d fallen, began to call out her name. “Sophie, fighting!!”

Once backstage, Chan’s professional mask completely vanished and he went full dad mode. “God, are you okay?!” he asked, laying her down on the nearest couch and kneeling on the floor next to her. “Pain on a scale of one to ten? You’re not going to faint, right?”

His frantic questions made Sophie giggle through her tears. “I didn’t hit my head, don’t worry! It’s just my ankle.”

Chan relaxed, but that didn’t help Sophie much because Jisung was the next one to frantically race over. “What exactly just happened?!”

“It’s these stupid boots,” Sophie said, lifting her uninjured foot for emphasis. “I noticed right before stage time that they’d be easy to trip on, but didn’t have time to say anything.”

Jeongin came running over right then with the doctor, who quickly examined Sophie’s ankle. “It seems to be a minor fracture,” he told the group, “but I want her to go the hospital to make sure, and to get it taken care of.”

“What about the show?” Sophie asked, not liking this idea at all. “STAY will be so disappointed if members are missing for the rest of the night.”

“Does she have to go right away?” Chan asked, realizing what Sophie was getting at even if the girl hadn’t said it aloud.

The doctor hesitated. “It would be best, but if she doesn’t use that foot at all, I suppose she could finish the show.”

“Oh, thank you!!” Sophie gave the doctor an impulsive hug, ecstatic that she would finish the show.

After wrapping Sophie’s ankle, the doctor gave her some pain medication to take with a water bottle and left the members to themselves.

Well, members minus two.

“Where’s Hyunjin and Minho?” Sophie asked after swallowing the two pills and drinking some extra water.

“Trying to convince STAY not to worry,” explained Changbin, who had been the last to arrive. “They seem to think you’re in dire danger of death.”

Sophie laughed in spite of the situation. “Now I really want to go make sure they know I’m okay,” she said, setting aside her water bottle.

Chan chuckled at her eagerness. “I’d love to let you, but you have to get your makeup fixed first.”

Sophie pouted just the tiniest bit. “I hope they do it quickly.”

•🧚🏻‍♀️•

A few minutes later, makeup fixed and ankle wrapped, Sophie re-entered the stage, transported princess style by Chan. The fans’ cheering grew even louder at her entrance, and it took several moments before she could say what she’d planned while getting her makeup fixed.

“STAY, I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay,” she said into the mic, feeling a little bit shy at hearing her voice filling the venue. “I’m so thankful for you guys and that you care about me to worry when I fell, but please don’t worry anymore because I’ll heal in time, and then I’ll be back to normal!” She smiled and gave a heart, then continued, “I’ll be finishing the show with vocals only, but I’ll do my best for you, STAY, and I hope that you guys have a lot of fun here tonight!”

The crowd’s cheering carried into the next song, which started out with Jisung’s iconic on-key scream. “AAAAAAH! 2020, we gonna get ‘em! Stray Kids in the building, we gonna go all in. Just do whatever we want! Holler at y’all, ey! Let’s go!!”

Felix jumped right into his rap, followed by Changbin, Hyunjin, and Chan. Seungmin and Jeongin kept it going with the pre-chorus, and then it was Sophie’s favorite part.

Which also happened to be her part when it came to concerts.

“Stop no kensaku kekka ga arimasen.”

“What?!” hollered Jisung, and the whole group shouted, “ALL IN!!”

Even though she was sitting on a stool, unable to dance, Sophie was smiling wide as she performed with her group, STAY’s cheers filling her ears and her heart. Goin’ all in, gonna make it count. Won’t look back, gonna set my eyes, cause there ain’t no practice runs in life. The lines from the Tobymac song ran briefly through her head, and she had to inwardly laugh at the timing. Even in the midst of a concert, her brain could still find time to bring that up.

•part two•

“WHAT HAPPENED??” Hyunjin demanded the moment Stray Kids was backstage once more. “I’m out there telling STAYs you’re fine and not to worry, but I didn’t know what was going on!”

“It’s just a fracture,” Sophie told him, chugging her water bottle.

“The doctor said he wants her checked out at the hospital,” clarified Chan, “but he didn’t make it out to be some horrible thing.”

Felix came over and hugged Sophie, sitting on the couch by her to make it easier. “You did so amazing when it happened, Sunflower,” he told her in English. “For a minute I forgot you’re only fifteen.”

Sophie giggled. “Thanks, Lixie.”

Hyunjin, mollified now that he knew Sophie wasn’t about to die, came and sat on Sophie’s other side. “I’m gonna sue whoever put you in those boots.”

“No, it’s just a minor injury, it’s not like I died from it!” Sophie said in alarm, thinking he was serious.

“What? Oh, gosh, Soph, I wasn’t serious. It’s just my way of saying they needed to be more careful about your footwear.”

Chan, who had disappeared to talk with the doctor some more, came back and perched on the arm of the couch by Felix. “Okay, so we can all go to the hospital, but they’re only allowing two of us to go with her.”

“I’m kind of assuming since Chan’s the leader he’s going no matter what,” said Sophie, “and I can’t possibly with a clear conscience choose only one of you, so you guys are on your own to figure out who goes.”

“Rock, paper, scissors!” suggested Seungmin, who had quietly been giving Sophie a shoulder massage to show that he cared rather than talking above everyone else.

Jisung ended up winning the game, and was about to say something when a staff member told them they could leave for the hospital.

Hyunjin picked up Sophie princess style, only setting her down once they’d reached the van. Sophie briefly wished that the walk had been longer so that she could delay the hospital visit even more.

She ended up between Seungmin and Hyunjin, in the middle row of the van. As soon as they were settled and the van was moving, she grabbed Hyunjin’s hand and leaned on Seungmin’s shoulder, her stomach exploding with unwanted fears.

“Sophie, you okay?” Seungmin asked, and she felt him maneuver an arm around her through the seat belts. “You can tell us how you’re really feeling now that it’s just us.”

“I’m scared,” confessed Sophie, feeling a new wave of tears rising despite her pain being under control. “I hate hospitals, and this is the first time I’ll have been to one without my biological family.”

“Hey, wait, you made a distinction,” commented Hyunjin in an effort to cheer Sophie up. “We’re family too then, so you’ll be alright.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I promise.”

Sophie bit her lip in an effort not to cry, but failed as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. “I- I don’t know…”

“Aw, don’t cry,” Seungmin leaned his head against hers. “Did you feel like this through the whole concert?”

“At the beginning I did,” admitted Sophie, “but then Jisung started screaming the intro to ALL IN and that added a good six years to my life.”

Hyunjin barked a laugh. “Jisung, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” came Jisung’s voice from the row behind them.

“That you screaming the intro to ALL IN tonight added six years to Sophie’s life.”

Jisung laughed. “Really? I thought your rendition of the female voice was impressive.”

Sophie giggled through her tears. “Aw, thanks.”

•🧚🏻‍♀️•

Once at the hospital, Sophie’s nerves kicked up again, even with Seungmin’s and Hyunjin’s reassurances. Hospitals really freaked her out, mainly because she was afraid that they’d try to stick a bunch of needles into her.

When they were called back, the nurse had to wait for a good two minutes while the members encouraged Sophie. Chan and Jisung had to practically drag her away so they wouldn’t keep the hospital waiting too long.

“It’s a minor fracture,” the doctor told the three members, showing them the x-rays. “Sophie, you’ll have to wear a boot for six weeks, and crutches for around three.”

“Will our tour be over by then?” Sophie asked Chan, who was currently translating for Jisung.

Chan nodded, looking like he’d rather tell her she flunked a test. “I’m sorry, Bubble.”

Jisung hugged her. “Hey, at least you can still perform. You rocked it tonight just sitting on a stool, you can still perform an amazing concert.”

Sophie blinked back tears, not even registering when the nurse came back to help with the cast and boot. “At least I don’t have to stress about choreography for a while,” she quipped weakly.

“There, see!” Chan encouraged her. “There’s a silver lining to every cloud.”

“Why is it silver though?” questioned Jisung. “Why not gold? Or emerald? Or sapphire?”

“Or diamond?” added Sophie. “An amethyst lining would be pretty, too.”

Chan chuckled. “You guys are something else.”

“Of course we are,” said Sophie, wincing as the boot was slid over the cast. “We’re Stray Kids, how could we possibly be normal?”

•🧚🏻‍♀️•

Members’ Responses to Sophie’s Injury:

Chan:

really worried on the daily but he tries not to show it because he knows that’ll make Sophie feel bad

constantly checking on her

“do you need anything?” “no thanks i’m good :)” “are you sure?” “yep :)” “sure, you’re sure?” “chan if i need something i’ll ask :)” “no you won’t, that’s not your style so i have to keep asking”

insists on her getting to sleep in and even does things to make it easier for her to sleep in the car

“your body heals while you sleep, we want her back to normal as soon possible right?”

Minho:

shows he cares by spending time with her

“hey sophie want to see some pictures of my cats?”

even plays with her if she’s not too tired

they now have their own Famous UNO Game thanks to Felix secretly recording their (very interesting) game on his vlive

Changbin:

insists on carrying her everywhere that he can

sophie finally had to tell him that she only needs help with long distances and that she can maneuver around the hotel rooms fine

he chose to ignore that and still carries her whenever he can

“Changbin it’s not hurting you to carry me all the time right?” “you’re a feather, why would it hurt me- hey, i think i just found your new nickname”

Hyunjin:

takes advantage of her slightly incapacitated condition to teach her art

which she really enjoys learning

her favorite medium is traditional acrylic paint and Hyunjin loves it when she gets paint all over her face and he gets to tease her

the art lessons distract her from her ankle even when it’s hurting, so Hyunjin takes every opportunity to do art with her

“sophie when did you turn into a tiger?” “what??” “you’ve got black and orange stripes on your nose somehow” he proceeds to clean it off, making sophie giggle

Jisung:

lives for making Sophie laugh, especially when her ankle is hurting her (by this i mean he loves it when he’s able to get her to think about something other than the pain)

makes ridiculous faces at her

pops up from behind random furniture items and pretends to be scared of her

honestly he pretty much just babies her for the entirety of her injury

“Jisung… what are you doing?” “sssh i’m trying to surprise sophie!” “….she won’t be back for a while…” “does that really matter Seungmin??”

Felix:

a replica of Chan except more calm and reasonable about it

notices her water is empty “need some water? or do you want something else?” “water’s fine, thanks Lixie :)”

also a bit of Jisung sprinkled in there

by this i mean he likes to tease her with vocal challenges

“sophie see if you can do harmony on this line” proceeds to sing the “cookin’ like a chef, im a 5-star Michelin” line

sophie: umm give me five good reasons why i’d want to alter what’s already a masterpiece

definitely the most level-headed whenever the pain wakes sophie up in the night

“ssh, ssh, just relax, okay?” rubs her hair gently “can’t take the pain medicine if you’re crying”

Seungmin:

plays her ballads to help her fall asleep earlier than she’s used to

“seungmin, why are you putting her to bed already, it’s eight pm” “i’m the continuation of what chan said about sleep”

if ballads don’t work he sings to her and that’s her favorite part of whatever days that happens

“what song?” “here always please” “did you ever watch that drama?” “not yet but i want to” “that’s tomorrows project since we’re traveling”

Jeongin:

competing with Chan for the most visibly concerned member

constantly making time to just sit and cuddle with her for a while because he knows cuddles are one of her favorite things on earth

the one buying her plushies like crazy so she has plenty of cushion wherever she is

she now has SKZOO in its entirety plus at least a dozen random cute ones Jeongin thought she’d like

“jeongin, just how many plushies did you buy her?” “i don’t know, i’m not counting” proceeds to hand the maknae four more new ones

#skz’ bubbly sunflower 🫧🌻#answering a request! :D #kpop au #skz imagines #skz 9th member #skz maniac concert

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