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#also there are no fragments since i started all of them in polish
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Can you tell more about 'Chłopiec z gitarą' but Luisco, fanfiction from Spanish lessons, Dark!Avalor, and all of marvel ones?
As promised, here are the marvel ones:
"Widow" is a short novel I wrote back in my wattpad days for a wattpad contest. I tried to keep to the rules of a novel as a literary genre but it ended up being... quite awkward XD Not to mention that I used the words Matushka Rosija unironically fjbeisbeb Generally it was about Natasha learning that her husband Alexei is dead and I've tried to keep it vague if it's a true story or just a fake memory. Generally I think it was really good for the level of a writer I was, but now I just see how many things could work better. And also I'm not sure how accurate it all was since it was supposed to be ff to comic Natasha, but I've never ready any comics and just read the wiki XD
"Memory loss" was based on a little similar concept, I guess? I never decided why the memory loss happened or how serious it was and everything. It's a Captain America x Black Widow story and tbf it's based mostly on the Avengers Assemble cartoons, though I think I picked and chosen what fitted from MCU to include XD As for the plot:
In an especially hard mission Black Widow was knocked out and heavily beaten. After she regained her consciousness back in the headquarters, it turned out she lost all of her true memories, only keeping the implanted ones, so she's convinced she's a Soviet ballet dancer, married to a pilot. The whole team, but especially Captain America stand before a dilemma if they should tell her the truth or let her keep her fake but happy fake life.
Except that's all I had, I never solved this dilemma myself XD Although it's also connected to this other story, also with this ship, where for some reason everyone forgot that Black Widow ever existed or something and Steve meets Natasha as a ballet dancer he once saves after the opera house gets attacked while he was watching the performance. They were supposed to fall in love and later discover this whole scheme of forgetting about Black Widow together (so the typical "true love breaks fake reality" trope.)
And I think that "Marvellous cookbook" is my favourite one, probably because it's the newest one XD It was supposed to be a collection of oneshots centered around various characters' culinary adventures, light and wholesome :3 And to get the whole set, this one was supposed to be based mostly on MCU and with only some characterization from the cartoon.
This is all and once again thank you for such an interest in my wips!
WiP list
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astrhae · 10 months
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hi so i just read your hanahaki fic and it ruined me and like i am actually crying it was so so so good but also i read your deleted scene with jespers pov and that was amazing too!! and i saw that you said that you had another deleted scene and i would love to see that too (and any others that you have) if you wanted to share them?
(also i actually adore the entire vibe of your blog it's so pretty)
hi hello thank you so much *slides tissues over* i'm so glad you liked the fic so much and that you liked the deleted scenes too!! there are... quite a lot of them that i literally made an "appendix" section in my word document 😅 this fic truly was a monster to write because of how many scenes and jumps there were, and while that was a whole lot of fun, i also had to test and remove many, many scenes too keep it manageable. most of the deleted scenes are just dialogue without much prose to them though, because i had a Vibe but then realised the fic was going to be too long --- but here's a deleted scene that i polished up just for you 💙 it's in jesper's POV too because you all really are enabling me to write more of that 💕
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“You kept it,” Jesper stared at Wylan.
Wylan’s gaze skittered away, hands clasped behind his back as they stood there, side by side, at the threshold of the mansion’s storeroom. He looked every bit a mercher, now: all the soft lines Jesper used to tease him about were gone, replaced by a gauntness from the sickness.
It had been a month – a month since the embassy, since Wylan had lied still on the bed, and the Shu Princess’ fiancée had come under the cover of the night. Do it, Jesper had told her to save Wylan’s life.
They’ve gone too far for me to save him, she had warned Jesper. This might not work – he might never feel again, never –
Do it, Jesper had repeated. Wylan had wanted this, had counted his own life worth more than his heart, and Jesper had to agree. Jesper had to be grateful that Grisha didn’t get sick: if Wylan came out of this not being able to love, then at least Wylan came out of this.
Then Jesper would still love him, anyway, whatever happened.
So she had done it, and Jesper had watched as a delirious, barely conscious Wylan had coughed and coughed – Wylan wouldn’t remember it, later, feverish and shivering, from both the sickness and the canal waters, and Jesper had promised, over and over again: I love you, I love you, I love you.
And Wylan, eyes clouded with fever, had tipped his head blindly toward Jesper’s voice, and apologized.
Now – now, a month since, Wylan was still recovering. He showed no signs that he remembered any of it. Jesper had been careful not to linger, unsure if Wylan wanted him, but he had stayed in one of the guest rooms that Marya had forced him into.
They ate meals together, Wylan staring at Jesper silently all the while before he disappeared again into his rooms, closing himself off as Kaz scrambled to keep the business afloat and Jesper tried to keep out of the way. With Nikolai and Zoya pleased that things had gone as smoothly as they could, Jesper wasn’t expected back in Ravka anytime soon, and he stayed in Ketterdam to pick up what pieces he could, trying to at last keep his promises.
Marya showed him the cracks in the house – the places where paint had started peeling, floorboards creaking, the carriage rattling, and Jesper placed his hand over them. He placed his hand, and called on his blessings: an act of prayer, an act of penance. He couldn’t heal the places where Wylan’s ribs had cracked from the roots that had wrapped around them, but he could at least fix the foundations. Could at least strengthen them.
He hadn’t known what to expect when Wylan had called for him earlier today.
He certainly hadn’t expected Wylan to lead him up to the attic, to show him a room full of everything he’d left behind. All the coins he’d turned into lopsided keys sitting in a jar by the far end of the room, the bullet fragments and shrapnel from his failed attempts at distracting himself. The mess of a canvas from when Jesper had tried to paint for Wylan, all those years ago, eighteen and too young to understand the weight of it. The weight of this.
His powers reached out to them all, now, the room a riot of metal and memory and color, all his hats and all the ledgers from his debts –
Wylan had kept it: all the good things, and the bad.
“I wanted to burn them,” Wylan spoke to him for the first time in weeks. “I wanted to burn it all.”
Jesper took a step inside, his feet leaving footsteps in the dust. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“I broke some of them,” Wylan admitted, staying at the threshold, gaze shifting toward the broken glasses to their right, the shredded fabric, the shattered frames. “But I – I didn’t have anything left.”
When Jesper had left – so quickly he’d terrified even himself – he hadn’t had to time to bring much. He had thought it was for the better: a new start, without all his things, all his memories trapping him. He turned around to face Wylan, now, their past in scattered pieces around them.
Jesper didn’t need any of this. He just needed –
“I would have come home,” Jesper promised again, confession turned into sin, into vice, because even now, he still loved Wylan like an addiction. Like benediction. “I would have come home, if you asked.”
“And you would have resented me for it,” Wylan’s smile was a knife. Jesper wasn’t sure if it was a knife meant to cut Jesper, or himself. Did it matter? Either way, they both hurt.
His powers itched, needing to reach out, crawling beneath his skin, clawing at it. Grisha didn’t get sick: their fevers just burnt through bone, through soul – their powers demanding more than they could give. Wylan couldn’t love again. Not after the sickness. That was fine: Jesper would love him enough for the both of them.
“I already did, a little,” Jesper admitted, because hadn’t Wylan wanted him honest? “I resented you, but I missed you more.”
Wylan studied the floor. Eyes fixed at the distance between them.
“You stayed,” Wylan whispered.
“Do you want me to?”
He had stayed in Ravka for himself, but for Wylan too. He would stay here for himself, and for Wylan too. He owed it to them both to see whatever was left between them through: Wylan wasn’t a debt to be repaid, or a broken thing for Jesper to fix. He was a chance that Jesper wouldn’t let himself lose. Not again.
A strangled noise escaped Wylan, so similar to the cough that Jesper flinched at it –
“I want you to stop hurting,” Wylan said, just as he had all those years ago, when push became shove became fall. And then – “I want to stop hurting.”
Jesper stumbled forward, stumbled closer, pulled into orbit – pulled out of it, until distance became touch and his hand reached for Wylan’s – and Wylan’s reached for his, trembling, trembling, trying.
“I want you to be happy,” Jesper took the words, and made them his own. Made them his wish. “I want to be happy, too.”
Because he was selfish, because he was certain. Because he was trying, too.
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nicohverse · 2 years
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Entropic Float Biweekly Update #19
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This update's art is from Katuo on skeb! Another cute little Peri this time. Like Touko, Peri is one of those characters who seems to have a pretty big appeal to JP artists- When I give people the option to draw any of my characters, she's a frequent choice!
It's been a while since the last time I updated. This three-week development cycle to account for a weekend spent away, has still been quite productive! The trailer for Entropic Float also became available since then- Amazingly edited by Casper, the creator of Heart Fragment, Starfield Gaming's other property!
Writing:
28/31 standard segments. That's right, I wrote ten of them since last time! This means that there are only three left!
36/36 Memory Seeking segments. I polished off the last two necessary in this category! It's finished!
3/7 Epilogue segments. Yep, I actually also managed to get started on these! And I'm more than halfway done with the fourth segment, too, so we could say I've written half of the epilogues.
This represents 67/74 segments of the Miracle Route. I only have 7 more segments- Three standard segments, and four epilogues- Before I can send the game for beta testing.
Background Music:
I've acquired two new BGM tracks, but as I have yet to add them to the OST playlist, I won't share their names just yet. I want to focus on getting the writing finished before doing other side activities. The sooner my testers can play the Miracle Route the sooner I can get all its bugs sorted out!
My goal progress from last time:
-Write 9 standard segments. 5 of ADL style and all 4 of NVL flashback style, completing the entire 'Memory Seeking Finale' section of the game Done! I actually wrote 10
-Write the last 2 memory seeking segments Done!
-Create the 3 sets of assets needed for the Memory Seeking Finale section Done! I also created the assets needed for the last set of standard segments.
-Take some time aside from development to make some marketing materials needed for Connecticon Done! I didn't just make the marketing materials, but they also arrived! I'll start sharing some of them soon
My goals for next time:
-Write the last 3 standard segments of the game - Write the remaining 3.5 epilogues - Draw one CG for the standard segments - Update the walkthrough and beta instructions, and get the beta copy to my testers
In this three-week cycle I wrote 15 segments. This leaves me with 7 to write over the next two weeks. It's actually possible I'll complete them all in the upcoming week, in fact! But we'll see. I've been under a lot of pressure lately, so maybe taking it a little easy for one cycle could be good for me... On the other hand, it's creating this game that has helped me to stay sane... Well, all I know is that the rest of this Sunday, I'm going to play some games and do some meal prep, and if any Entropic Float makes it in there, that'd be good too.
The word count is up to 289,304 words now... If you'll remember, the standard routes were around 174,000 words. Meaning that the Miracle Route is 115,000 words so far... Nearly as long as the rest of the game! Admittedly, some of those words are duplicates because of the programming on a certain scene- But it's still quite the feat, I think! And who doesn't love a nice, long Visual Novel...  Why am I releasing something this huge free of charge again? Oh, right. I'm insane.
There's not really anything new for the game that I can share without tons of spoilers, so instead, here are some of the Ending badges that I've made! These aren't implemented in the game yet, that's a project for June, but there's one for all 18 of the endings. You can also get them as pin badges at Connecticon, or online afterward!
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starboundfae · 2 years
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The smell…
                   …of the ocean…
It feels like I am aimlessly floating inside myself.
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The sound…
                    …of the waves…
My movement is sluggish, even within my own subconscious. Reaching the waking world feels so close, yet so far.
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The feel…
                …of the sand…
The more I push towards consciousness, the harder it feels to do so, as if something is resisting-- and yet, after a minute, I surface with such suddenness that it almost surprises me. Blinding light greets me when I attempt to open my eyes, and it takes a few moments of playing peek-a-boo with the waking world before I am able to keep my eyes open.
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The sky… is a beautiful shade of cloudless blue. I reach up towards it, and flinch. Memories drift back to me in fragments, of red and gray and the endless, striking blue of the sky, blocked only by my own hand reaching for something… something…
I can't remember what.
I can't remember much else, either. Assuming the worst-- always the worst, rather than get my hopes up-- I push myself upward, until I am seated, making room for sand and water to join the sky in my immediate field of vision, and begin to test that my body is functioning properly. Better to distract myself than to overthink, since overthinking means wondering how long it's been, which means wondering if--
Enough. I lift my hands and begin to pat myself down, checking that everything was in the right place.
Head. It's attached, certainly, which is always a good start. Both sets of eyes are out, which usually isn't a problem, but probably means that either my mimicry is stunted for the moment, or… whatever fauna is here isn't really human enough for it to be a concern.
Arms. Two of them, fully attached and functional. The nail polish Styx had done before the attack was still intact, surprisingly. I don't typically like nail polish but… I leave it. Perhaps as a sort of reassurance and hope that she's okay, perhaps because I'm too lazy to remove it.
Torso. No wounds, at least. I seem to be wearing light, comfortable, cream colored clothes-- a slightly-too-long t-shirt and shorts. Different from my usual clothing, which is typically what I reform with, no matter the state of it. My staff is still on my hip, which is good, as well as a strange sort of mask. My bag, however, is nowhere in sight. 
Legs. Humanoid, fully attached and functioning. I don't seem to have any footwear, so it's a good thing the sand covering the area is rather fine and not very hot. 
Tail, wings? Missing, it seems. Not great for my balance, but I assume the main population is human enough not to have them, perhaps? 
Conclusion? I reformed fine, which is always good, even if my somewhat fragmented memories hint at a particularly violent death this time. The local population-- which I have so far seen none of, unsurprisingly, considering that I seem to be on an isolated beach-- must be human enough that extra limbs are unusual, but not little oddities such as my bonus eyes. My clothes are quite different, so perhaps they mostly dress the same, and I simply reformed differently to compensate? The mask also seems to be important, if it came on its own, rather than as something I had before, like the lantern-staff.
A mostly humanoid species that dressed mostly the same and wore masks. I don't think, in all of my planet-hopping experiences, that I've met a species with this strange sort of uniform.
This is bound to be an interesting trip...
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We're live! Feel free to ask questions. This is the first page! Next > // Tag for scrolling through!
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looye29 · 1 year
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A friend of mine asked me, “How many languages can you speak fluently without errors?” I was a little taken aback as I had always felt proud of being a polyglot (someone who is multi-lingual). I could converse in a couple of other languages but speaking without making a mistake - I wasn’t so sure! This remark made me think about polishing my language skills. I began looking for a course to learn using languages confidently without making mistakes. Learning a new language is always exciting! I started looking at Rocket Languages as an option, and as I looked further, I was convinced of its capabilities! Mastery over languages is never easy to achieve and requires your full attention and focus. With most language apps, you will need to devote a lot of time to lessons. Once you sign up for Rocket Languages, you will understand why it is such an excellent language training tool. It aims to make the best use of your time. What is Rocket Languages? Rocket Languages is a popular language-learning website and app today. It is a comprehensive and interactive language learning tool. Its primary focus is on learners keen on achieving proficiency in the language they want to master. Currently, the languages you can learn are Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese, Italian, Hindi, German, Korean, Chinese, French, and Russian. The app trains you to read, listen, write, and speak the chosen language fluently. Rocket Languages has three difficulty levels for each language, which in turn have modules. There are several lessons within the modules too. Rocket Languages use a point system to track your progress and help you improve your score every single day. You can compare your points on a graph and leader board. The program focuses on: Improving new vocabulary (using flashcards as teaching tools) Hearing to improve your speaking skills (using audio clips) Perfecting your pronunciation (using voice recognition tools) Quizzes to find out how far you have understood the conversation in the lesson Writing tests Methods of Teaching It is recommended to do the language course online via a computer or via their app. They have both IOS/Android versions. However, if you wish, you can also download their course material as PDF files. The audio lessons have various levels that have 30 lessons each and take a total of 60 hours to cover. Each lesson makes you listen to an audio clip on a particular topic lasting about 15 to 40 minutes - this will be in your native language and in the language you want to learn. You will get a translation of the clip, and you must repeat the words and phrases out aloud. The vocabulary and the grammar portion are divided into fragments, and you get tasks such as games, quizzes, and flashcards. You will find that each level comes with 60-120 hours of culture and language lessons. Grammar is given importance so that you understand the language better and get a better insight into the origin country's culture. Since the lessons contain many texts, you may find it a tad tiresome, but they are definitely useful, and you shouldn’t give up. There is a whole section for writing lessons in the language you want to learn. You will learn new characters, and this will help you further. The site follows a highly targeted self-teaching strategy. The survival kit lessons teach you to use phrases that are mainly used in your day-to-day life, at shops, when using the public transport system, and at restaurants. Travelogue, available in only a few languages, can be purchased at an additional cost. This helps you when you are about to travel and want to understand the destination country's language. All useful phrases from hiring a taxi to traveling around the city are covered. Progress Monitoring After every session, you have five subsections under "Rocket Reinforcement." Each of them aims to consolidate whatever you have learned in the previous lesson to ensure your efforts are firmly placed in mind.
Your progress is rated by the software, and you cannot move to the next module till all of them are completed. After each audio lesson, you will be asked to translate words in the language you are learning - this is in the self-assessment section. Community The advanced learning technique articles help you learn the languages quickly and efficiently. Language teachers, fellow learners, and native speakers are always available for premium users to interact with. I really like the fact that you have a community of sorts to turn to if you need anything. They are there to help answer your questions during the learning process. Pros It makes you understand and speak the language correctly It suits all learning styles Very easy to understand and follow Engaging and interactive Speaking practice with voice recognition You can play the lessons on a computer or phone As many as 12 languages are taught One-time fee for access all through Audio instructions and interactive exercises are blended well American Sign Language, which is not offered by many language learning sites A simple interface Lots of opportunities to test your learning Cons At times, voice recognition does not work properly Practice exercises are a bit clunky Not enough space for practicing non-Roman scripts There is an expensive initial payment Exercises may be somewhat repetitive The quality of the course differs with each language Final verdict As someone who wanted to learn more languages and learn them well, I find Rocket Languages to be a very useful app. It offers lots of resources to learn to read and write the language. Of course, you must dedicate time to use the material properly. I rate Rocket languages a full 5 Stars! The approach and methodology that Rocket Languages adopts is quite impressive and definitely worth the try if you seriously need to master a language. It is, of course, not without flaws. Yet, you will feel more comfortable with the lessons and exercises compared to many other language teaching sites. After some time, you can always come back for a review. Honestly, being so interactive, the courses at Rocket Languages are addictive!
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darkmindsotome · 3 years
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On the Riverbank
Title: On the Riverbank
Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss
Pairing:  Kei Soejima x MC
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 Word count:3,963
Warning: NSFW Smut
Written by: darkmindsotome
Summary: After suffering from cabin fever a date is in order. Only this simple date plan is going to get spicy.
Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #15: Free Prompt (Picnic on the River)
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 I was willing to blame uncontrollable events on the fact that we hadn’t managed to go on a date in a while. Between work and recovering from work, it had been impossible to plan anything. However, it had become the new norm for us to remain living together at Kei’s rooms in Raven.
At some point, I began to feel like I had cabin fever. I was happy to be with Kei and a secret part of me loved being at home with him 24/7. To think there was a time when I thought this was a prison sentence. I couldn’t deny the fact I wanted to go out and do something now things had settled down though.
After looking out of the large windows in the suite over the streets of London, sighing for what must have been the sixth or seventh time, into my nighttime cup of tea. Kei put down his book and announced we would be going on a date. Later that night I curled up happily in bed wrapped in his arms and fell fast asleep.
The next day I woke up alone. My mysterious man had vanished before I could say so much as a good morning or ask about our date plans. Patting down the sheet on his side of the bed resulted in me finding them stone cold. He was always an early riser but this was ridiculous. I then noticed a note left on his pillow.
“Good morning, forgive me I had some things to tend to. I have arranged a car to bring you to our date. K”
I rubbed my fingers over his beautiful cursive writing just as a courier arrived at the door and delivered a beautifully wrapped box. The duck egg blue container was almost pearlescent with a thick cream coloured satin ribbon all perfectly tied around it.
The timing was so perfect I really had to marvel at the man organising this and wonder if I was always this predictable or if I would discover a hidden camera somewhere in the room. Opening the box up revealed a single white rose with a card resting on top of a black dress that fitted Kei’s tastes perfectly.
“I can’t wait to see you. K”
The message had me smiling long before I took the dress out of the box. It was a vintage style tea dress with little cap sleeves made from some of the most delicate lace I’d ever seen. It looked almost like patterned smoke.  
There was something different about getting ready for a mission and getting ready for a date. The feeling I got from both was similar but I found I was much more nervous about a date than a life-threatening mission. I rushed through my prep stage of shower, hair and make-up.  
Slipping into the dress I instantly fell in love with it. Kei knew my measurements off by heart and I was pretty sure he had them on file with his usual tailor so he could get the outfits he gifted me perfect right down to the last stitch.
Walking into the closet to find a pair of suitable shoes I discovered some already sitting out. They were naturally also black with the addition of ribbons that wrapped around my ankles. Securing the bows, I couldn’t help but make the comparison between them and cuffs. I felt heat climbing up from them at the thought. I imagined Kei and what was probably going through his head as he picked them out for me. How his fingers would have traced the shoes and the ribbon. The idea of tying me up was never far from his mind and with these shoes, it felt like he had already started.
Shaking my head, I looked at my watch and doubled checked my reflection in the mirror before leaving to go get in the car. I watched from the back seat absentmindedly playing with my choker as the car took me away from the centre of the metropolis. 
The modern landscape changed slowly into something that felt more historic. The buildings looked older; the concrete jungle had passed into something more like a tv drama set. In fact, if I hadn’t known how far I had travelled I might have thought I was somewhere else entirely.
My eyes caught a familiar figure standing near the roadside. He was dressed in more casual clothes. The white trousers, cream coloured cricket jumper with a blue stripe around the collar and the light blue shirt under it all made him look like a student. The car slowed until the backdoors aligned perfectly with him. I had seconds to smooth down my dress and mentally brush off some of the nervous excitement before the door was opened.
“M’lady.” I smiled at the Princely Kei as he offered me his hand. It was all too easy to forget what he truly was like even for me. Yes, I loved his sweet and angelic side, but I also loved that tricky Devil he hid behind his mask too.
“Thank you.”
Kei guided me to his side, away from the car, and sent it on its way. Now completely alone he used our still joined hands to make me twirl for him as he looking me over from head to toe.
“You look even better than I imagined.” Kei smiled and brought me closer to him. Sweeping some of my hair away from my neck so he could brush his fingers along the neckline of the dress and the choker around my neck.
I once more felt the difference in attire. I was all dressed up and felt far more formal than he did. The idea of him being a student once more flitted through my mind conjuring up kinky scenarios of a socialite sneaking off for a romantic rendezvous with a hidden student lover. It was silly, Kei was older than me even if there were times it was hard to tell that from appearance alone.  
“Careful now or you might start sounding like Kazuomi.” I joked attempting to forget the thoughts going through my mind.
My eyes naturally fluttered shut. His cold elegant fingers ghosting over my skin was enough to remind me of the many nights we spent together. Where he had dyed me in his own colours and shown me the abyss behind the door to depravity. Joining me as we fell through purgatory to our own private Eden.
“Perish the thought.” He let go of me. A sensation that left me feeling the need to chase him.
Opening my eyes, I saw that impish look on his face. He was slowly becoming more and more adjusted to life outside of his own nightmares and past. It was still obvious he was a little lost and confused at times but when he was like this, I could almost imagine him as a little boy. It made my heart sing to think we could stand here now together and I could enjoy such a candid fragment of my elusive boyfriend.
“Come now we should get this date started.” Kei laced our fingers and matched his pace to mine.
We walked through some trees and right up to the side of a riverbank. There in front of us was a beautiful craft floating on the water. Inside were some large cushions a few blankets and a basket.
“I thought I would show you a little hospitality and tradition.” Kei let go of my hand briefly to climb onto the small craft and then held out his hand again to help me get on board as well.
“We are going boating?” I giggled as the whole thing rocked under my feet. The idea of mixing something traditional from his own country and a date was so him it made me happy.  
“Punting. It is quite different but I trust you will enjoy yourself.” Kei’s correction came with all the patience I had come to expect from someone who knew so much and was used to sharing it in the course of his work.
“I think I’ve seen it before. It looked like the river had turned into Venice or something.” I sat down carefully feeling rather small when I looked back up at Kei.
“I can understand your comparison and whilst you can use a pole on both vessels a Punt is different to a Gondola.” He smiled and retrieved the long pole from the riverbank using it to cast off.
I watched him standing near my feet moving the pole through his hands with little effort. If you were really quiet you could hear the smooth wood, polished with years of use, slipping through the water and his palms.
“It doesn’t feel as safe as I thought it would.” I commented as the pole in his hand seemed to get stuck on something under the water and give a little tug that made the punt slightly rock.
“I assure you that I am an excellent Punter.” Kei’s expression was so deadpan and relaxed as he declared this I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“I get the feeling your friends would be doubling over in laughter right about now hearing you say that.”
“Yes, they probably would. Thankfully they aren’t or I would have tipped them both into the Thames and made them swim.” He looked down at me. The shadows from the trees we were moving through were casting shadows on his pale skin. I didn’t miss how his playful eyes shone through the shade.
“You wouldn’t…”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride. I did consider placing the seat facing forward but selfishness prevented me from doing so. I wanted to see your face, forgive me.” The Devil faded in the light once more replaced by the charming Prince.
“You know I never once pictured you doing this?” I sunk back into the cushions, finding them much more comfortable than I thought they would be. The blankets as well were a mixture of textures but each one was thick and luxurious.
“Oh? Punting has been a traditional pastime in England since the 1860’s it really caught on by the 1880s and 1900s though. Before they became used for recreation these little crafts were used as part of the transporting of traders.” He spoke as he manoeuvred the pole and pushed us forward in the water. “Are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland?”
“Yes of course it’s a children’s classic.” I happily nodded. I know it is kind of a strange thing to enjoy but I did genuinely love how knowledgeable he was and how he explained things. It was like having my own personal tour guide and professor.
“Quite so. Well, the author Lewis Carroll used to punt along the Thames and during one of his outings where he was with a friend’s children he started to tell the story of a curious little girl who followed a rabbit. He later put pen to paper and created the beloved tale as a gift.” He lowered his voice as if he had just shared a piece of information vital to national security.
“I didn’t know that.” I don’t know what face I was showing him when he looked down at me. His face seemed to soften, although it could also have been my imagination.
“Literature aside I thought I would show you some more of England than the inside of Raven or shopping in the capital.” I looked around at the countryside slowly passing. I knew there was more to London than concrete and cars but I didn’t think there was this much greenery.
“I thought the Thames was larger than this.” I mused and put my hand over the side dipping it in the cool water playing with the ripples made by the punt as it moved.
“It is. We are currently on one of its many streams. Still part of the river but not as heavy with the tourist trade. You will also know of the boating traditions between Oxford and Cambridge, yes?” Kei always seemed to become a little more animated when talking like this. It was like he suddenly had an outlet for all the bottled-up information and facts he had in that well-read brain of his.
“The boat race?” I titled my head against the sun and saw him nodding happily.
“Yes, it is covered by the media extensively at the time. Well, the competition between the two on these waters doesn’t stop with rowing. There is a traditional Oxford way to Punt and then there is the traditional Cambridge version.” Kei grimaced theatrically as he explained.
“Haha, you don’t sound like you approve of the Cambridge way.”
“I am an Oxford man.” He almost seemed to stand up straighter as he said that. “The flat raised planking behind you is called the Till. A Cambridge man would stand on the Till and punt like so.” He stepped over me and demonstrated what he meant. It caused the punt to lurch which had me clinging to the sides of it thinking it might tip us both in the water. “Whereas an Oxford man, He will stand in the punt and work from here.” Kei stepped back into the punt and resumed moving us from inside. The vessel settled back down and I ended up breathing a sigh of relief. “Also a notable difference is the till. Following Oxford tradition, it is always facing front in the direction one is moving."
"I had no idea there were so many traditions.”
“There are more but I fear any more information will bore you under this hot sun. Here should be suitable.” He pushed the punt so it brushed up against the bank again this time next to what looked like a very secluded spot. The grass was short and looked to be recently cut. Surrounding it were high hedges and some trees.
“What is this place?” I asked as we left the punt for more stable ground.
“You will find them all around. They are locations people usually used for picnics.” Kei spoke as he stuck the pole into the bank and tied the punt to it.
“Are they all this well maintained?” I was still looking around. I don’t think I have ever been to a part of London that has ever made me feel so totally alone. It was pleasantly unusual.
“The ones that are owned are yes. This is one of my family’s spots.” He leant over and scooped up the basket and grabbed a blanket. With them in hand, he then walked into the centre of the grass and quickly set up.
“What do you have hidden away in your basket of tricks?” I sat down on the blanket and waited for him to reveal his secrets.
“We have tea, the very seasonal and traditional strawberries and cream.” He placed a flask down next to the punnet of fresh fruit and a pot of thick white cream. “We also have peanut butter sandwiches…”
“You made this picnic, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help but giggle. When he said he had things to do in his note I thought it would have been work-related. Now I had visions of him shopping and preparing this picnic instead.
“What is wrong with it?” He asked. His golden hair shining like a halo under the sun.
“Nothing just it's very you. If you had brought the basket from somewhere or had someone else make it, I doubt peanut butter would have made it on the menu.” It was true he could have ordered it from room service or had it made up somewhere in town and just brought it along. The fact that he actually made anything himself was endearing.
“Did you want something different?” His expression shifted and he looked like a child that was waiting to be scolded.
“No this is perfect.” I reached over and took one of the sandwiches from the plate in his hands.
“I did think of bringing some Pimms but I reconsidered.” Kei recovered fast, the cracks in his mask reformed.
“Why?”
“The time of day for one thing. I mean as Kazuomi would argue it's five o’clock somewhere but I would hate for you to be so drunk you fell overboard.”  He poured some tea from the flask and handed it to me. Our fingers touching for a second, more than long enough for me to realise his body temperature was still as cold as normal.
“We both know I have a better tolerance to alcohol than that.” How can he do that? It was so hot the world could be melting and Kei would still be sitting there in a pullover surrounded by his own internal climate control. “You said this was one of the quieter parts of the River. Why come here? Oops!”
I had been so concerned with not spilling the tea he had given me I had completely misjudged the integrity of the sandwich in my hand. Part of it failed to make it to my mouth and vanish down the neckline of the dress. Embarrassment threatened to bloom inside me and I really hoped Kei had missed what I had just done.
“Is it a crime to want to spend some time alone with my girlfriend?” His voice was so close and I hadn’t felt the blanket move or even seen him shift. Yet he was right next to me his face so close to mine I could feel his breath in my ear. “Honestly I did think of following one of the other paths of the river. There are more pubs and places to go along them but I wanted to enjoy something more scenic with you.” He trailed his fingers along my choker and then slipped them down the front of my dress. “Now I’m glad I made this choice.”
“Something about how you just said that makes me think you weren’t referring to a quiet picnic together.” I acted cooler than I felt. I knew he could feel my heart beating and see the pulse running wild in my neck. All the time I faked being calm as his fingers extradited the rogue peanut butter sandwich from my body.
“You always were very observant.” I followed his hand as it carried the salvaged food to his own mouth. Those eyes of his locked on me looking like pools of golden lust.
They drew me to him like a spell and held me there as he locked me up in his arms, his hands roamed freely over me. Tumbling back together onto the blanket the picnic was threatening to be forgotten.
“Mmm Kei.” My breathy cry came out as he nibbled on my collarbone and began moving a hand up my leg under the fabric of the dress.
“Careful now. It might be a secluded spot but there is no telling who you might summon with a voice like that.” He teased as his fingers did some teasing of their own. Rubbing the outline of my sex through the sheer fabric of his favourite lace panties.
“As long as one of the people I summon is you I don’t care.” I was done with coy. Coy and demure didn’t get you anywhere fast with this man. There was a time and place for all that and when we were alone and things were heating up was not one of those times.
“Mmm, have I ever told you how stunning you are when you are honest with your desires?” He slipped his fingers past the lace pressing his thumb onto my clit before pumping a couple of digits inside me. I wanted to moan louder but his warning from before made me stop.
I looked up and found him smirking. He knew I was holding back. He knew I was trying to be a good girl but damn him if he wasn’t trying to break me.
“I don’t think I can remember.” Two could play that game and I tried to make it look like I was still in control. With every stroke from his hand, I was losing my sanity, but I kept up a strong front and played the game.
“Then I’ll have to take my time and remind you.” He moved on top of me his hand still driving a fever through my core as he spread my legs wide with his own.
“What about the picnic?”
“There is time enough for both. I don’t intend to let anything here on this blanket go to waste.”
His voice purred erotically as he slid the zip on the dress down my back and dragged the bodice low enough to expose my breasts. The cap sleeves I had thought were a nice addition were now part of the binding of fabric that was preventing my arms from freely moving.
Kei brushed his fingers over the lace of the bra and once more slid his hand inside. Treating each nipple to a firm pinch as he ravished my mouth with his tongue. I squirmed under him trying to wrap my legs around his and return the restraint in kind.
“Hehe, you really are the only one that has ever tried to dominate me.” His laugh was like a clear bell whilst the things he was doing to me had my head crashing like a drum.
“Kei… please stop teasing me already.” I moved some more only to find his weight was gone. He had stopped touching me completely and was sitting back on his heels looking at me.
“As My Lady commands.”
I watched as he licked his hand clean and used the other to undo his belt and trousers. It wasn’t unusual for him to remain clothed but it rarely happened where it was so bright.  I bit my lip as he rolled my dress higher exposing all of me. He said nothing as he undid the strings on the panties and placed them into his pocket. The silence was deafening given how aroused I was. He leaned over and dipped a strawberry into the thick cream holding it just out of reach of my mouth.
“Eat it.” His command seemed absolute even if it was given in a sugary-sweet tone.  I tried to stretch for it but couldn’t. His eyes twinkled and his smile became more wicked. “I guess if you can’t be a good girl then I’ll just have to treat you like a bad one instead.”
I felt my core tighten as he brought his palm down with a crack against my bare thigh. He pressed down on me again. His mouth connecting with mine. Fruit and cream filled my senses as he used his own mouth to feed me. The escaped juices were lapped up by his tongue as he arranged himself to take this to the next level.
“Ah!” A slight sharpness ripped through my body and was quickly numbed as the pleasure of us finally connecting took over. With each rock of his body, it moved my body against the ground far more than the swaying of any boat.
Our mouths connected again and again at different angles to the point where I was sure I had forgotten to breathe. His fingers ran through my hair sometimes pulling grabbing at it but each time it only emphasised his desire for me and made my whole body tingle.
I never did find out if anyone else was around as Kei had said or if it was all just another layer to his devilish lies to set the mood. I did discover that I would never be able to eat a picnic again without the addition of a peanut sandwich.
---
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mrs-nate-humphrey · 2 years
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it’s halloween month so I would love to know any and all of your dan/nate halloween headcanons (bonus points if milo’s there too) 🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡
you sent this on the first of october like the wonderful festive pumpkin pal that you are! but i have been sooo no thoughts head empty,,,, and i wanted to give this actual deliberation & thought before diving right in, so....
DAN, SPECIFICALLY:
ok. i think dan would have complicated & conflicting feelings re: halloween. we already know, canonically, that rufus was really into halloween, so this paints a pretty elaborate image in my head of halloween at the humphrey household - i bet it was a lot of fun! but then, of course: alison left. i think holidays in general become difficult for dan in the After, because they remind him of a time his family was truly happy that he cannot go back to.
so halloween is always bittersweet for dan, he'll carve all the pumpkins and get nate all the pumpkin flavoured stuff from all the cafes, and his wardrobe is so full of browns and sweaters that he's always ready for fall anyway, and he's happy! he is. but sometimes he'll remember another family he used to be part of that's all fractured & fragmented now, and he'll get a little sad. it happens less frequently over the years, but it never quite stops. (nate the ever observant always puts an arm around him and kisses his cheek, and says something silly to make dan smile. sometimes they talk about it; most of the time they don't. but nate is always there, quiet & non-judgemental, waiting for when/if dan needs him.)
NATE, SPECIFICALLY:
on the contrary........ halloween is natie's absolute FAVOURITE. much like the thanksgiving flashbacks we get in 1x09, i feel that halloween for nate, during his childhood, would involve being with blair & serena and all of them having the time of their lives. i think anne & howard would drop him off at the waldorfs, and eleanor would entrust blair & serena & nate to dorota's care. when they're younger they go trick or treating, and blair is very serious and very prim & proper and has on a perfect, sophisticated costume (she dresses as movie characters always) while serena's in a state of chaos, her costume for whatever she's dressing as (usually a witch or a ghoul or something like that) is a bit lopsided, the ribbons in her hair are coming out, her makeup is smudged (not deliberately!). nate, naturally, is sort of in between those two states - blair dolls him up and sets him to rights, serena takes his hand and runs around with him until his costume is a little wonky - by no means as much as hers, but definitely not in pristine, blair-approved state. blair just gives serena & nate a tired, Adult look, like they're toddlers and she's the babysitter (this doesn't change over the years, and this dynamic sets in remarkably quickly.)
once they're older, there's alcohol, there's halloween parties maybe, but nate still sticks with blair and serena, and they still hang out with him. halloween & the first of november are THEIR days, because they always do a sleepover on the 31st, and waking up together on the 1st of november is just something that makes the day Theirs, to nate. so unlike dan, for nate, he DID have that family feeling, and he had it consistently over the years, and he knows that it exists still.
DAN & NATE, FINALLY:
nate gets so excited for halloween! he goes full on into event-planning mode. he and jenny get really engrossed in designing costumes for the humphrey gang, and dan is like "who are you again?" and nate gives him the finger + an unamused look. halloween is a great bonding time for dan & jenny's gf, actually, because both of them get to watch their partner be an absolute dork over the holiday AND get really into designing (which is normal for jenny but not for nate, lol.) they just sit together and share drinks and act very, very cynical.
dan knows that halloween month is a special month for nate, and he's determined Not to be a grouch, so he goes out of the way trying to keep that cheer alive. he bakes sugar cookies that he ices to look like ghosts, he carves pumpkins, he does All The Things. but in a similar vein, nate knows that halloween month is a bit rough for his bf, so he is extra cuddly and patient, and goes out of his way to remind dan again and again that he loves him, that they're family now, etc.
i think halloween would also bring a lot of gender feels to dan, who gets this one holiday in which it's socially acceptable to wear makeup and doll himself up and dress up as whoever he wants to be. i think that'd give him a lot of euphoria, a lot of questioning, and a lot of anxiety, all at once, and i think nate would just be there like a stabilising force, because nate just loves dan that unconditionally, whoever dan is, even if dan is figuring that out - nate loves dan. i had more to say about This Point specifically but i am so tired, i kind of forgot what it was.
oh!!! vampire movies. all of them. nate and dan WOULD. they'd watch endless nights and they'd watch vampire porn and they'd definitely sleep together after THAT. nate would bite dan's neck and repeat some dialogue from the porno, and dan would laugh, but he would also be so, so turned on. (what! parts of this are literally canon!)
since dan also canonically reads anne rice (i wonder if he's one of the fic writers who got a cease & desist or whatever she was sending at them back in the day, that would be an interesting dan humphrey backstory) i think he'd read it aloud to natie. nate would just be lying there with his head on dan's lap, and dan would be sitting up reading aloud, one of his hands carding thru nate's hair.
at a blairena halloween party one time, dan and nate dress up as... *drum roll* each other. are you surprised? yeah, me neither. they keep making risque references to That Night At Yale, and blairena threaten to kick them out of the party (empty threats.)
MILO HUMPHREY MY BELOVED:
i wish i had more milo headcanons than just "jenny designs extremely elaborate costumes for milo, and nate goes trick or treating with him" but that's kind of it. milo would also end up wearing a LOT of orange-brown-maroons to school all through october (dan is like, nate, the kid is 5, is this the age to put your fall agenda onto him? nate is like, yes.) i think once he's older, milo would start getting these ridiculous mugs home in october - a pumpkin mug, a mug shaped like a skull, a mug shaped like a skeleton hand, etc. think mugs that look like THS thing that krysten ritter is holding:
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dan looks at the collection of horror themed mugs they have with equal parts dismay and pride, and looks at nate like, yeah, you sure did raise this kid alongside me, didn't you? this is all YOUR influence, babe.
i also feel like milo would wear black nail polish ALLLL the time. he'd start during halloween and just never stop. i mean. if you're curious about this, i have two words for you: aunt jenny.
BONUS:
nate finds photos of a younger dan trick or treating - dan must be 7 or 8 in these photos, and he & vanessa are both dressed up as witches, with the hats and everything. dan is carrying a pumpkin shaped lantern, and marx is sitting in the lantern, peering out from inside it.
dan just smiles, and goes, "yeah, when i was a kid, all my costumes involved marx in some way." there's marx with angel wings (looking extremely disgruntled), there's marx with a green blanket around him ("he was a caterpillar that year," dan informs nate seriously), there's marx with a little bonnet on his head ("he hated that SO much," dan laughs).
the humphreys adopted marx when dan was around 7 - and given how unconcerned rufus is by lily's lack of pets - when he moves in with her, they do not discuss getting a cat or a dog or a bird or anything.. i'm guessing that maybe alison and dan went to pick marx out. i think dan and jenny have both seen marx grow from being a kitten to an adult cat, but because dan was older he remembers it slightly better. and dan and that cat were INSEPERABLE, to the extent wherein dan would often put marx in a pram and stroll him around everywhere. (there are halloween pictures of this, too.)
anyway, i'm just saying.
"he was my partner in crime," dan says fondly, looking at a picture of marx.
"i'm your partner in crime," nate corrects him.
"well, yeah," dan says. he raises an eyebrow. "but do you really need to compare yourself to my cat?"
/end
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ncitygirls · 3 years
Text
matryoshka - part 1, 4k
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sibling!johnny, taeyong x f reader, mark x f reader, platonic/‘sibling’!haechan
nct crime au, angst, cw: character death, death, mental illness, police, injury, violence
300 days
There are few people who can disarm a man like Johnny Seo. Since the rather untimely, and inexplicable death of his mother and father at the tender age of fourteen, he quickly adopted this persona. He considers it a token from his late mother. She had always said, in a voice as soft as the breeze in spring, that to be polite is to be in control. He holds himself to that quite forcibly, reminding himself time and time again that there is power in making others fold to him. At time it is as simple as approaching an adversary with a smile, and awaiting the flare in their skin, the bugle in their veins and the ripple in their muscles. There are few who can disarm Johnny Seo. But few does not equate to none.
“When will you discharge her?” Johnny began, the words rolling off of his tongue with an air of nonchalance that bordered on flippancy, but an edge that was new to even him.
“Mr Seo,” without thinking, Johnny rolls his neck, bracing himself for a response he knows he will refuse. He thinks it odd to loathe an act he is yet to commit, especially when he can still prevent it. What he hates more however, is that you are here to witness it. When the doctor sighs, letting his glasses hang around his neck, he smiles sympathetically. Johnny sees nothing but pity. “I’m not sure how else to say this, but physically? Your sister is stable enough to go home. When we went in to remove what was left of the bullet fragments and saw to her ruptured spleen, we managed to mend her torn ligaments. Her blood work came back clear, and for the most part, her vitals are stable. With a few weeks of physio, I think we would be able to discharge her. Ideally, she could go home this week.”
“Wonderful,” Johnny’s hollow cheer guides his hasty movements as he, unthinking, strips you of your blanket to reveal a sight he thinks might change his mind. Rows of red line your skin, moons of dried blood covering the heels of your palms. He cringes at the dirty cotton cuffs that strap you to the metal frame of your hospital bed. Johnny can’t seem to make sense of the sight. “Did this happen during the shooting?”
“No, Mr Seo,” the doctor shakes his head, his frustration with his patient’s only living relative shedding every second he watches Johnny take in your limp frame. “It is like I was saying. Miss Seo is fit enough to leave. But mentally-”
Johnny simply raises his palm, ignoring the tears that pool in and out the corners of your eyes, a steady stream gathering in your hairline as you relive the events the two refer to so flippantly. “She will do better at home.” It is unclear for whom the assurance is intended. The doctor, you, himself. It is all just hope. So it doesn’t matter. “She will do better once she’s home.”
“Mr Seo, as your sister’s physician, I must implore you to reconsider.” Johnny understands where the doctor is coming from, he truly does. Johnny, taught well by his father, prides himself in being understanding. Like his father before him, Johnny prides himself in being calm in the face of not only danger, but regular folk - those who go about their lives, slaves to normalcy. Those who live life year to year, those who plan their lives, who wake up to sleep, expecting to see the sun once again. Those who consider life a right, rather than a privilege. Johnny has come to understand men like this. Not by choice of course, but because he had to. Especially once you met Taeyong.
2,109 days
“I met a guy today,” the words crackle through the phone, Johnny’s fingers stilling as he finally takes a break from his work, placing a mental bookmark on his train of thought. He wants to ask where, but he doesn’t enjoy seeming interested in affairs of the heart. They sicken him. “He was really weird,” you hum as you kick the curb, swinging your arms as you traipse through what Johnny thinks must be your university campus. He pretends he bother to know your schedule, but never has a reason for why he always gets himself up before you leave every morning. “A good weird,” you add, “his clothes hardly fit, they were all baggy. It’s hard to explain.”
“You kids and your trends,” he huffs, spinning in his chair to watch the city, eyes landing on the bell tower of your campus. “What happened to a nicely fitted suit?”
“It’s a college campus, John. Plus, it’s like half ten in the morning,” you can hear his next question before he even asks. “I mentioned his clothes because I wanted you to envision him, not judge him.”
“Well, I am envisioning a bum.”
“Okay, but envision a cute bum,” you try. “A beautiful, cute, funny bum.”
“That is still a bum, y/n.” You hear the faint sound of floor boards creaking, a telltale sign that he’s pacing. “Did he ask you out?” You hum in agreement, always too shy to admit anything so personal outright. It is times like this he wonders why you bother calling him and not just Haechan. He’ll never tell you this however. Lest he lose his spot as your first call. “I hope ope he’s taking you somewhere nice?”
“Yeah, of course,” he knows you’re lying. He knows it’s Hyuck’s you're both going to. Not that there as an issue with Hyuck’s. Even if you’ve already had the menu four different ways, front to back and then back again. It’s where you take all your first dates, you give Haechan a chance to size them up, figure out if they’re worthy. “I just wanted to tell you first because I think he’s a real contender this time.”
“And you’ll be late home, so you won’t be making dinner again?” Your affirming grunt forced a long sigh from Johnny. However, no matter many times he claimed his annoyance was due to your absence inconveniencing him; you both knew the loneliness bothered him now. “Well, have fun.”
“I’ll try,” you sing. “And I’ll bring that coffee cake you love so much, okay?” Johnny offers his own affirming grunt. Though it sits a couple octaves below your own, you hear the sliver of joy he lets through. “Love you.”
He doesn’t respond. He had already hung up.
300 days
“Mr Seo?”
Johnny had finally shrugged off his suit jacket and let his shoulders sag when he heard his name for the umpteenth time that day. He wanta to ignore it, but what would mother say?
“Yes?” SMPA. The badge is hard to read as it glistens under the glaring hospital lights. But he can’t miss the shape, the obnoxious insignia.
“Good evening,” the detective starts, his smiling eyes are in direct contrast to the gloom and doom of the last few days. Johnny wonders if smiling with teeth is proper practice when greeting someone who almost lost their little sister. “I am Detective Lee, I have a few questions for you about the shooting at Hyuck’s Diner. If you have a moment.”
“Of course,” he sighs, straightening his spine. “I am sure you are aware, but I wasn’t there.”
“I think it’s lucky you weren’t,” the detective adds, a sad smile settling on the bed to your right. “I am a friend of Donghyuck’s.”
“Oh,” there’s a short second where Johnny feels an odd sense of comfort, one he believed would only come when you finally opened your eyes. He also feels some guilt. “I didn’t know he had any other friends in Seoul, I tried to reach everyone I could.”
“And thank you for that,” the detective lets his eyes fall on his friend’s unmoving figure for a moment, his gaze returning to Johnny when he feels a familiar prick. “I have been hard at work on this case. I received word you did not wish for your sister to remain in hospital. May I ask why?”
“It is a public hospital,” Johnny responds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can afford better.”
“Then why did you let her stay?” The detective asks, scribbling away. Johnny wonders what dictates the parameters of an investigation versus a friendly conversation. “Her psych eval?”
“No,” he sighs, eyeing Haechan to your right. “They wouldn’t let me take him too,” when the detective tilts his head, surprise evident in his round eyes, Johnny lets himself laugh for the first time in over a week. “You wouldn’t want to be me when she wakes up to find I left him behind.”
2,361 days
It is past midnight when you fly into Johnny’s bedroom, a dew gathering on your forehead, chin and neck. In his sleepy haze, he hears only the end of your ramblings, your steps ordered in a manner Johnny can only describe as frantic. It is not in his nature to panic, he leaves such trivialities to you. But when your wide eyes find his, fear brimming as you scramble to get ready, you throw him your phone and he finally sees why.
“There are a bunch of guys who won’t pay up at Hyuck’s and he’s scared. Let’s go.”
That’s how Johnny found himself parked outside Hyuck’s Diner in downtown Seoul, just north of the river. You didn’t give him a chance to park up as you dashed out the still moving vehicle, door left wide open. Johnny is thankful it’s late, but quickly notes it being far too late for Hyuck’s to still be open. As he parks up, he watches you storm into the near empty diner, sees the relief on Haechan’s tired face as you round the bar. Johnny can’t really make out what you’re saying, but he can see the fire in your eyes. He sniggers as he stalks after you, seeing his mother in them too.
“I said, pay up, or give it back.”
“That’s funny,” one of the burly men says, food spitting out his mouth and onto the clean bar top as he laughs in your face. While Johnny only counted two from outside, he can now see a third standing off to the side. When his eyes meet Johnny’s, he falters slightly, thick hands running through his hair as he avoids Johnny’s haunting figure hovering by the only exit. “Who exactly is gonna make us?”
“Me,” you grin, reaching for the back of his head and slamming it hard down onto the bar. You hear Haechan yelp in what you assume is fear for his newly polished, now dented bar top. As the guy to his left lunges at you, you’re quick to utilise your surroundings. Johnny almost applauds your ingenuity as you quickly reach for a used butter knife and practically mutilate the man’s fist. It is then Haechan disappears from your side, his head nearly halfway down the drain pipe as blood splurts onto his newly polished, now dented, now blood stained bar top. The first guy had rounded the bar, only to be met with a fist to the throat, and knee to the gut. Johnny sees you’re expecting something to happen as you repeat the motion before seeing sense. With your hand latched to his collar, you drag his doubled over body out onto the street before you knee him again.
In the middle of the intersection pours his unpaid bill, meeting one end of the deal. Johnny laughs at how visibly dissatisfies you are, considering how long their bill actually was. You fish his wallet out of his back pocket, taking a few hundreds to cover the balance. “Who even carries cash anymore?”
Johnny wonders too as you pass by him, walking back inside and turning on the third guy. “Your friend covered yours, so you’re free to go.” As he scrambles to leave, he keeps his eyes fixed on your brother, halting when Johnny moves to stop him, a lone finger pointing toward the man's weeping companion.
“Take them with you.”
It’s a few seconds before their presence is no more than a distant memory. Johnny is quick to clean the bloody bar top, and rearrange the furniture. He even loads the dishwasher as you tend to a still queasy Haechan. “When I text you, I didn’t think you would do all of that,” he huffs, backtracking as he notes the hurt look in your eyes. “I mean, I am so grateful. Really, I am,” he smirks, fatigue stealing the light that usually fills his eyes. “But I didn’t know you were The fucking Bride.” When you roll your eyes, he presses on, glimpses of his usual self slowly return as the adrenaline begins to kick in. “No, honestly! I wish I had cameras in here because- fuck! That was insane!”
“Alright, whatever. Get your things, you’re staying with us tonight.”
“Do you think they’ll come back?” Haechan asks, the worry in his tone hurting you beyond belief. “Do you think I should call Mark again?”
“Who, the cop? No, they won’t be coming back, trust me,” you hum. When Johnny emerges from the back, drying his hands on a clean rag, you jest, “no thanks to angel eyes over there may I add.”
“Oh my god, hyung! And you!” Haechan restarts, allowing you to pack up his things while he recounts the terror in the third man’s gaze as he locked eyes with your brother. “It’s like he saw a ghost or something.”
“Yeah,” you laugh, grabbing Haechan while Johnny locks up. “Or something.”
It’s nearly dawn when Haechan crashes. It was Monday and he needed to find cover for the open. But getting cover didn’t stop him fretting, and no amount of herbal tea nor booze could settle a frantic Haechan. It is laughable though, how it took no more than a film opening to send him off. You slip away at sunrise, snuggling up to Johnny who gave up on sending you away shortly after your parents passed. However, he still makes sure to express his disdain for the affection.
“At least stick to your side, y/n-”
“Thank you for coming tonight,” you breathe, clearly uninterested in satisfying his request. “I know you have to be up soon, and I’m sorry. But having you there was- yeah. Thank you.”
For the first time in years, Johnny lets you snuggle with him. An hour later, for the first time ever, Johnny lets Haechan do the same. He fears that this might become a pattern, the two of you craving so much affection it might suffocate him. Johnny knows it just might, but has found peace in that. Much like he has found peace in your insistence that Haechan be one of you. Because he is one of you, he too left orphaned at a young age, you took him under your wing. So much like that day, as Johnny falls asleep to the sound of your light snores, he also decides-
300 days
“He’s family.”
“He speaks so highly of you both,” Mark adds, smiling thankfully at your sleeping frame. “But I’m sure he would forgive you for doing what’s best for her.”
“She wouldn’t.” Johnny adds, though a part of him knows he might have trouble forgiving himself.
“What is it you do for a living?” Mark asks, eyes quickly scanning Johnny’s crisp suit. “I can’t say I recall Hyuck ever mentioning it.”
“A bit of this and that,” he jokes, glancing towards you. “That’s what she calls it.” He hates the melancholic tone he has adopted. It is pitiful. “After our parents passed, I took over their pharmaceuticals company just after I turned twenty-one. We dabble in everything; medicine, cosmeceuticals, nutrition, you name it.”
“That must keep you busy.”
“I work from home,” Johnny knows he is being foolish, trying to falsely place an accusation in Mark’s assumption. Johnny knows he fell into the classic trope of throwing himself into his studies, and then his work, just to avoid the harsh reality that his parents were gone and they were never coming back. He would readily admit he abandoned you in the beginning to grieve on your own, to figure it all out on your own. He just wouldn’t take that from a stranger. “I tried to be around for her as much as I could.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Mark’s smile is kind, full of unfiltered sympathy. Johnny wonders if you have to practice such a thing, and if so, whether someone should have the doctors do the same. “I just wonder if you are wearing yourself thin is all.”
“You needn’t worry about such things Detective.” Johnny reminds, drawing the line between the two so simply, his eyes flicking slowly to Mark’s badge. “Worry about the case.”
“Of course,” Mark rushes, scrambling to defend his statement. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“And I you,” when the doctor enters to take both yours and Haechan’s vitals, he greets Mark warmly. Johnny feels no resentment to this warm reception, none whatsoever. But he can’t help but wonder what about him denies him the same warm greeting. He is quickly reminded of the first time he was to meet Taeyong.
1,977 days
“Your knees are shaking the counter, hyung,” Haechan sniggers. He knows he shouldn’t, he does. But he can’t help but bask in his friend’s nerves. How can the coldest man he knows be so scared to meet his sister’s boyfriend. As calm and collected as he behaves, Haechan is no stranger to worry, and it worries him to no end how the evening will go. From what he has heard from you, Taeyong is as nervous as one can be. And yet, your main concern lies in how your brother will react, and Haechan is an empathetic soul. He just knows he will feel it all. “Your vibe is really killing the mood, lighten up.”
“Shut up, kid.” Johnny warns, eyeing his watch every so often. “They’re late.”
Strike one.
“You know what y/n is like, she’s probably trying to talk him out of it.” Haechan notes how innocent Johnny looks with his head tilted, confusion bleeding into his features. “You are pretty scary hyung, maybe she thinks you’m scare him off.”
“Maybe he isn’t worthy then.”
Strike two.
“Or,” Haechan sings, adjusting his embroidered apron, Hyuck’s opening anniversary gift from the very man he is about to berate. “Maybe you’re not ready to watch your sister grow up, so you sabotage everything with your scary eyes and bad vibes,” Haechan shrugs with his chin in his palm, blinking sweetly at Johnny who resists the urge to flick his forehead.
“Don’t you have coffee to go pour?”
Haechan sniggers once more as he does just that, refilling Johnny’s coffee and shrugging. “Or maybe they’re stuck in traffic.”
So he can’t fly?
Strike three.
300 days
After a few hours, Mark returns for a detailed description of the three men he suspects may be involved in the shooting. Johnny says as much as he can recall, even going as far as to emphasise the detective’s lack of involvement. He suspects it is in direct retaliation to his earlier comment and ignores it, though Johnny quickly sees his own guilt reflected back in the detective’s guilt ridden eyes. “Will that be all?”
“Almost-” Mark starts, before glancing over at you. “I just,” he can’t seem to push past the lump in his throat. Johnny has given him everything he knows, that much is true. But after speaking with the doctor, Mark can’t help but wonder. “Why haven’t you tried speaking to her? Doctor Kim said she may respond well to a familiar voice.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
Mark knows it’s a loaded statement. One dripping in regret, in guilt, and in shame. But Mark can’t afford for Johnny to be ashamed. Not with Haechan lying unconscious as you lie there, reliving that day over and over and over again. Mark needs you to wake up. But Mark also swore to never relinquish his compassion. All Mark knows of you is the stories he’s heard through Haechan. Though some have a rosier hue due to his familiarity with you, Mark is sure there is no exaggeration in your case. You are a good person. One who cares deeply, who loves deeply. Mark thinks those parts of you are the ones Johnny can tap into. He just won’t.
“Haechan was my first friend in Korea. When I moved here as a kid, my parents worked at the orphanage he was at. He made fun of my Korean for a year straight before I could finally understand and speak fluently enough to defend myself. But, I guess it was okay, you know? He was helping all the same. I was a scrawny kid, I used to get picked on a lot. He was always there. Even though he got beat up too. He’s in all my earliest- my best memories. growing up. He’s like my brother. If he was awake, I think I’d-”
“But he isn’t,” Johnny reminds, eyes locked on your sunken face. Johnny knows what Mark is doing, he knows the tactic very well. He is quite acquainted with guilt as a form of persuasion. “He’s not awake, detective. The doctor said he doesn’t know if he will ever wake up. You know, I overheard the doctors say they haven’t seen spinal fractures that severe in their fifty years of combined experience. They said if Haechan ever opens his eyes again it will be a miracle. If he walks again? This hospital would be internationally renowned. Those surgeons would be infamous. But they can’t. They can’t so it. They can’t do it because they don’t have the facilities for such an operation, and even if they did, Hyuck couldn’t afford it. Even if he could afford it, y/n would have to wake up and give them the okay, because this idiot made herself his guardian so he could practically sell his soul for the loan for that fucking diner.
“So, I’m sorry, detective. I’m sorry that the only thing standing between you ever seeing your friend again is my selfish sister.”
“Mr Seo-”
“But you must agree, she is selfish. She thinks she’s the only one hurting, the only one who has lost something, lost someone.” Mark only sees what Johnny is doing a few seconds too late. As Johnny raises a lone finger to his lips, his eyes catching on the stream pouring down your temples. Mark’s heart nearly beats out of his chest as your vital signs begin to whir, the machinery at your bedside coming to life as Johnny reminds you that, “people die every day. Our parents, Hyuck’s parents, and now Taeyong-”
“Don’t!” You scream suddenly, your body nearly thrashing off of the bed. Johnny fears the force with which you rise could snap your arms in two, but nothing is more worrisome than the bloody red rimming your crisp white eyes; the visible and painfully rapid rise and fall of your chest; the tremor in your chapped lips. “Don’t! Please! Please don’t say it-”
Johnny had never moved so fast. His hands clinging to your trembling frame as he stroked the back of your head. He chanted quickly in your ear, pleading with you to stay with him as he promises to stay. “I won’t go anywhere, I won’t leave you. Never. I promise. Just please, stay with me, okay? I need you here, Hyuck- Hyuck needs you, okay? I need you to stay with me, we’re all we have. Please, y/n-”
Mark couldn’t help but feel intrusive. His earlier pushing began to feel filthy, unfair, unjust. But how could he know you were this far gone, this distraught. Nothing is more sickening than the soft, croaky ‘yes’ that spills from your lips. Your bloodshot eyes lingering on his frozen frame before you see Haechan. You tremble again, your body nearly convulsing as you recognise the boy beside you.
“Shh, he’ll be okay- I promise- we’ll get him help. I promise you- we’ll be okay.”
Johnny rarely spoke out of hope. He was a man who would cling so tightly to reality, you would sometimes joke that his knuckles would snap from the pressure. But as he holds you tightly in his arms, rocking your hollow frame back and forth, he realises he has nothing more than hope.
But since when has hope ever been enough?
33 notes · View notes
palbabor-writes · 3 years
Note
dude uh so like dabi but as a father... like he would never but like no one day he gets left with this kid and he's not gonna abandon it bc he cant idk i just want to see dabi as a parental unit trying not to be a bad parent
lol, ppl ask me asks and i respond with a feature freaking film worth of words.  (//▽//) warnings: adult language, angst, mild spoilers for current manga chapters: 290 - 291
words: 3915 
notes: I answered this a little differently. It’s more of a longing for what could have been, rather than a kid of his own sort of thing. But, Dabi does his best damn it. Also, yeah, yeah, it’s another Greek title. I cannot be STOPPED. but i prolly should be. Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
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Pónos 
ponos /ˈpoʊˌnɒs/ or ponus /ˈpoʊnəs/ noun  Ancient Greek: Πόνος Pónos  the personification of hardship and toil
There’s a loud clattering noise that’s echoing along the polished floors and walls of the Meta Liberation Army’s base. 
Dabi hates these long hallways. They remind him of some kinda tomb, with all that reverberation and all those gleaming surfaces. They’re perfect for elongating and stretching voices and sounds. 
So whatever the fuck that racket is, it’s not like he’s going to be able to avoid it. He’d need to turn around to do that and he’s not about to fucking turn heel and retrace his steps. Besides, it would take him twice as long to go the other way. Nah, this path is easier, despite the looming annoyance of the commotion.
 He rounds a corner and catches sight of a young woman. 
She’s struggling with something as she reaches into her shoulder bag, and her back twists awkwardly as she leans both forward and sideways. Dabi can’t get a good look at her from here. But, he reasons, he also doesn’t care enough to bother with a second, closer, glance. Nope, all he’s gotta do is slip past her and he can be on his way. 
“Reo-- Reo! Please keep still. I need to get to my phone…” The woman’s voice sounds strained and that odd pattering noise that he’s been hearing since he stepped toward this hallway hasn’t stopped either. If anything, it’s worse. Is it her quirk? Is there somebody behind her? Does she have one of those remote talking devices? Like that the ones that the Doc gave to the League before all this fucking cult bullshit started. What-
Dabi’s thoughts wander to a screeching halt as a boy bumps into his shins. He blinks at the sensation and stutters to a stop, his eyes glinting at the small form. The kid, who looks about four or five, stumbles backwards and cranes his head, looking up at this new discovery he’s run into. 
The boy studies him and, for a brief moment, Dabi worries that his face might spook the kid bad enough to send him into a sobbing and crying fit. Dabi’s not exactly the easiest thing to look at now. But, the kid seems ok with gawping at him, his violet eyes goggled and wondering. 
“Reo-” the boy’s mother repeats, replacing her phone and scanning the hallway for her rogue offspring. “I--Uh, there you are! I’m sorry...Oh, you’re one of those new generals. I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Ooh, oh my gosh, now that you’re here, would you mind watching him for a moment? I’ve gotta run something back to Skeptic…”
That woman is saying something but Dabi’s too involved in his strange standoff with the boy. Neither he, nor the kid, seem to have the wherewithal to pull their gazes away. No, they both just watch each other, the former maintaining his aloof scowl and the latter is putting on an amazing show of raw fascination. 
“So, just don’t let him get up to too much trouble and I’ll be right back. Won’t be more than a minute.”  
Huh?
Dabi whips his head up, suddenly realizing what’s being asked of him. Like fuck he’s gonna watch this kid. Wait...where did she go?
He twists and turns, his cerulean eyes flashing up and down the sterile hallway, but there’s no sign of her. What the hell? How can someone dematerialize that quickly? He didn’t even say yes, for fucks sake. What a negligent, irresponsible parent she is, to just leave her kid like this with a complete stranger. Pfft, stranger feels a bit weak, honestly. Nah, Dabi’s a walking, talking freakshow. Nothing about him looks safe or dependable. There’s a pull on his dark pants and he automatically shakes his leg against the sensation, agitated. What now? 
Ah.
Junior is blinking up at him, those chubby hands wrinkling the rough fabric between his tiny digits. “Hi,” he beams, his pearly baby teeth straight and gleaming, “I’m Reo!”
“Yeah,” Dabi scoffs, knocking the kid’s hands away. “I heard. Where did your, er, mom go?”
“What’s your name?” Reo prattles, following Dabi as he skulks a little ways down the hallway, his brow furrowed and shoulders tense. Now what is he going to do? He could leave, tell the kid to stay put and go about his business. He doesn’t have time for this, after all.
“Hey!” Reo calls and Dabi turns at the slightly frantic note in the child’s voice, his eyes sharp. 
“Whadda’ want kid? I’m trying to find your mom.” 
“I said my name is Reo-”
“And I said I heard you. Tch, you’re so loud there’s no way half of the building didn’t hear you,” Dabi snaps, looming over the little boy, his mouth pressing into a deep frown. 
“I told you my name, so..so now you gotta tell me yours,” Reo scolds, those violet eyes shining. Dabi can see that the kid’s tiny frustration is rising at the thought of some adult being so rude as to not answer his newly engrained social niceties. 
“Hmph,” Dabi snorts, a low laugh puffing out of his lips. “The name’s Dabi.”
Reo digests that, his nose wrinkling as he mouths the unfamiliar name to himself, like he’s wanting to get it just right when he speaks it aloud. It’s kinda cute, Dabi muses. You know, in a stupid sort of way.
“D- Dadi?” Reo mimics, stumbling over that all important ‘b’ in Dabi’s name.
“What? No. It’s DABI. It’s got a ‘B’ in it. Like, uh, b as in, uh, bear. You know what a bear is, yeah?”
“A bear?” Reo asks, biting his lip at the strange change of topic. “What about a bear?”
“You got my name wrong, kid. It’s Dabi, not DaDi. My name has a ‘b’ not a ‘d.’ Try again,” Dabi groans, sinking to his haunches and praying that this kids mom will rematerialize any goddamn second. 
“Dadi,” Reo mimics, still fumbling. 
“Ugh,” Dabi sucks his teeth and begins to stand again. 
“Hey! Pick me up?” Reo requests, his arms lifting, stocky fingers clenching and unclenching into his palms, opening and closing in a repetition of a familiar demand. 
“Pick you up?” Dabi repeats, incredulous. What the fuck is wrong with today? The only thing that could make this worse is someone seeing this odd performance.
“I’m not gonna pick you up,” Dabi growls, his lips pursing at the kid. “You’re just fine where you are. Besides, don’t kids like you need to practice walking? How old are you anyway?”
“Five,” Reo chirrups, puffing his chest out, like he’s expecting a rainfall of praise to fall on him now that he’s verbally acknowledged that he is indeed, a big boy.
“That’s too bad, kid. If you’re five, you’re definitely old enough to walk under your own power,” Dabi snorts, bemused by Reo’s chipper attitude. Doesn't that get tiring? All that smiling and pacing that he’s doing? Dabi’s never had much experience with little kids, well, other than his own contact with his younger siblings, but they were never this...chatty.
“Awe,” Reo whines, his head falling, little chin bumping as it hits his collarbone dejectedly. Dabi shakes his head at the dramatic reaction. Sulking is better than crying, he reasons, turning his head to look for the boy’s mother again. She said it would only take a minute? The fuck was she?
“Hey, kid. Where were you and your mom before you came here?”
There’s a strange, static-like quiet that follows Dabi’s question. That’s weird. He would have figured that his new query would have broken the boy out in another rash of talkative excitement. So for him to be…
Wait. 
Dabi turns back and his eyes scan the newly barren hallway for the boy. The fuck? Where did he go? His gaze is still whisking frantically when he spots the heel of Reo’s shoe disappearing beyond the next corner. Fucking wonderful.
He paces after the boy, his long legs pulling him quickly along. Again, he wonders why he gives two shits. It’s not his kid, not his responsibility. Yet there’s some nagging pressure that keeps beating at the back of his mind. It’s likely some pieces of a fragmented lesson that had been taught to him long ago. Back when he wasn’t like this. Long before he’d made the decision that sent him on this mindless trajectory, lingering in the obsession of his pent up rage and hurt.  
You’re the eldest. 
Take care of your sister. 
Easy, he’s still a baby. That’s right, hold him like that. You’re such a good brother. 
You’re the one who he can go to when he needs help.
Thank you, Touya. You did so, so well! I’m sorry I had to leave for a bit, but thank you for watching him. 
It’s a big job, and one that you’ll always have, so, can you do it?
You’re their big brother. They look up to you.
Look! She’s happy to see you, Touya!
Dabi snarls at those little flashes of memory, his teeth gritting. No one needs him. Fuck, he’d be more likely to kill them than help them now. Or, at least that���s what he keeps telling himself. Drilling it in, over and over, until he can repeat that vitriol like it’s some kinda twisted prayer. He’s not that boy anymore and he can never, ever go back. He’s made sure of that. 
“Hey! Hey kid! Get back here! You little shit!” 
A loud, male voice is booming up ahead and Dabi jogs the last few steps, his head already uplifted and searching as he rounds the corner. There’s a tall, unfamiliar man in the next hallway and he’s looking away, watching as Reo sprints from him. 
“Fuck, man. Why you gotta yell at him?” Dabi scolds, his cerulean eyes glaring. The man whirls around and Dabi notes the source of his ire. There’s a large stain, bleeding against his crisp white button up and an upturned mug is clutched in a tight fist. Kid must have bumped into him and knocked his coffee out. Well, that fucking sucks, but it’s no reason to freak out at the little guy. He’s five for fuck’s sake. Not like he did it on purpose. 
“He burned me! He ran around that corner and smack into me! Control your kid, you ass! I know you’re one of those hoity toity new generals but you gotta--”
“He’s not my kid,” Dabi snaps, already shoving past the blustering idiot. If he hurries, he can snatch the boy up before he gets too much farther. 
“You sure are running after him like he is!” 
The taunt chases him as Dabi stalks away and it makes him grind his teeth again. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, he repeats, all he’s gotta do is get the kid and wait for the mom. Besides, he’s in too deep now. He can’t just abandon him. Fuck, with his luck, he’d run into the mom before he ran into Reo again.
The next hallway leads to one of the many common rooms. 
Dabi, realizing this, begins to jog again, suddenly desperate to catch Reo before he wanders into even more members of this crazy cult. Or worse, he gulps, a member of the League. He’d never live it down if the kid bumped into Compress or Shigaraki. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
As he skids along the next turn, Dabi catches sight of the kid. He’s wavering beside the double doors of the common room and he looks distinctly lost, his dark head turning every few seconds, those violet eyes of his wide. 
“Oi! Reo! Stop running,” Dabi calls, already lowering himself to a kneeling position, his long, mangled arms outstretched. He’s hoping he’s painting some kinda welcoming picture with this gesture and not just creating a terrifying pantomime of comfort.
Reo looks back and he lets out a little squeal of recognition and delight. Excited he is finally going to be picked up. His shoes tap loudly against the tiles as he dashes into Dabi’s oddly warm embrace. 
Once he’s got a good grip on the boy, Dabi rises to his feet, keeping the kid’s body securely against his. At first, Reo protests the tight hold, his back bowing and squirming, but Dabi stills him with a long, hard, stare.
“Don’t do that,” Dabi chastises, wincing against the pull on his marred skin. 
“Oh! Does it hurt?” Reo asks, carefully bringing his swinging feet to a standstill, noting the grimace of pain on Dabi’s scarred face.
“Yeah,” Dabi confirms, shifting Reo to his hip so he can free up his other arm to adjust a pinching staple. “My skin ain’t exactly healthy. Now, let’s get you back to your mom before she finds out that you fuc-- I mean...that you dashed off like that. Give people a heads up next time, huh? Making me run all over the compound after--”
“Oh! Who’s that you’re holding?”
“Gosh, he looks just like you! With that dark hair and those bright eyes of his. Is that your son?”
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Dabi tosses a glare over his shoulder, but the two women keep walking toward him, cooing at Reo’s pleased little face. One of them reaches up and ruffles the boy's hair and Dabi instinctively takes a step back, a snarl lifting his lips over his white teeth.
“He’s not my kid,” Dabi corrects, for what feels like the umpteenth time today. It’s only the second, but twice is two times too many. 
These women are being ridiculous. They don’t look that much alike. He’s just got dark hair, that’s all. If they knew what color Dabi’s hair really was they wouldn’t even make that connection. With his true coloring, Reo would be another kid and Dabi would be some fucking freak who’s left holding him. He’s not this kid's anything, least of all his protector. 
It’s not his job to look after this half pint, nor is it his job to care about him. Even if he reminds him of some sliver of what was, what could have been. No, Dabi is just some schmuck who somehow stumbled into this absurdity. It would be easy to unwind those trusting arms and lower this kid back to the ground, he’s not sure why he’s still holding him. He should...he should put him down...He... 
For some reason, that last thought makes his heart squeeze, pressing an irregular beat against his breast. He shakes his head at the sensation, burying whatever bubble of emotion that is trying to rise back down, pressing it deep, smothering and covering until he feels normal again. 
“He’s right! I’m not. Because he’s Dadi!” Reo confirms, simultaneously standing up for his new, haphazard, caretaker and throwing him under an oncoming proverbial bus in the same breath. Goddamn it all.
“That’s so sweet! Your son is beyond adorable!”
“He’s not…” Dabi begins, but bites his tongue. What good is it doing him anyway? These flunkies of the Meta Liberation are just fawning over Reo anyway. He’s honestly stunned they’re still talking to him at all. 
As they’re tickling and petting at the boy, a sudden thought springs into his mind. Actually, this might not be too bad. If he can get one of them to take the kid, he can fucking slink away, his responsibility finished, job done. 
“Oi, one of you can take him. He’s waiting for his mom. She said something about meeting with that Skeptic dic-- guy.”
“You want us to watch your son?” One of the girl’s questions, her head tilting at his demand. “Wouldn’t you rather wait for her yourself? You don’t know us and, well, not that we’d do anything bad...but that feels strange. Besides, you’re doing a great job! Look how happy he is. The two of you are so cute!”
Amazing. 
Apparently, Dabi, despite his hardened and rough persona, one that he has cultivated and built up for years, mind you, could now add, “cute,” to that resume of terror that he is building. 
Sighing, Dabi tries a more direct approach. “You seem to like him a lot, so just keep an eye on him until his mom comes back. It’s not hard. He likes being held, so just, er, hold him.”
Reo, sensing that he’s about to be deposited out of Dabi’s warm grasp, begins to wiggle again, his hands clinging to Dabi’s skin. He’s trying to be gentle, remembering Dabi’s earlier warning, his small digits tapping rather than digging, but he’s still scrabbling against the pull.
The woman clicks her tongue and smiles, tucking some of her long hair behind her ear. “Your son is so precious! He must really love you. Look, Han, isn’t this kid is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen!” Her friend chuckles and agrees and the cheerful sound makes Dabi seethe. 
“Like I told you, he ain’t my kid. Now knock the wax outta your ears and take him,” Dabi snarls, still pushing Reo outward, hoping beyond hope that this calamity will just fucking end. 
“Dadi,” Reo pouts, his nose wrinkling as he burrows his face into Dabi’s arm, his skin hot against Dabi’s purple flesh.
“If he’s not your kid,” the woman named Han says, propping a fist on her hip, “why does he keep calling you daddy?”
“He’s not calling me that,” Dabi grumbles, his eyes lingering on Reo’s distressed slump. “The kid can’t say my name, which is Dabi. For some fucking reason the “b” is alluding him.”
“Fucking?” Reo questions, his brilliant purple eyes lifting, searching Dabi’s deep blue gaze. When he doesn’t get an answer, he repeats the word, lingering on those harsh syllables a little longer than he needs to. God, Dabi thinks, pulling Reo back to him, trying to muffle the boys bewildered tests of his new word. This is beyond ridiculous.
“Uh-oh,” another, male, voice resounds. Dabi scowls at the newcomer, watching as he steps beside the women, his eyes widened in mock concern. “That your kiddo?” He asks, his brow arching at Dabi’s now openly hostile form. 
“Fuc-- Again? I gotta answer this again?” Dabi snaps, shifting Reo back to his hip, just above his belt. “No. No, he is not mine.”
“Sure about that?” the man quizzes. “He’s sure got your hair and, uh, your vulgarity down.” 
“He’s that woman’s...Look, his mother went to go see that Skeptic bastard. So, you wanna help me out here? Any of you idiots want to do something useful? Hmm? Go into that big meeting room, the one past the common area and get her. I bet that’s where she went. When you see her...tell her, her kid is going wild. Stop...stop looking at me like that or I’ll torch you where you fuc-- where you stand.”
Instead of being cowed by his threat, the Meta Liberation Assholes just laugh, the three of them leaning against each other as they heave with their amusement. And Reo? Well, he’s seemingly amused by all the ruckus, giggling and murmuring little nothings into Dabi’s skin, nuzzling into Dabi’s inhuman warmth. Dabi feels that strange tugging at his heart again and in his anger and distant horror, he spews more rage onto the trash that’s daring to chortle so openly in front of him.
“Goddamn it, I’ll make each of you pay for this you...you stupid--”
“Dabi?”
Can a hole open up under him? That would be absolutely perfect and he’d be so, so grateful. He cranes his neck and catches sight of the last person he wanted to see. Fucking, Twice. His costume is making those white eyes of his comically wide and his hands lift to clap at his face, always dramatic and overblown to the last.
“Who is that sweet little boy? The hell are you doing with that child?!?”
“He’s--”
“It’s his son!” The ‘Han’ woman calls, still clutching her sides, her eyes wet from her mirth.
“No,” Dabi groans, his head dropping lamely. He wants nothing more than to fry each and everyone of these fucking pieces of shit. The desire is so strong he can feel the creeping of heat that’s rising in his palms and tickling up his piercings, scalding his skin against the metal. No, he scolds himself, he can’t do that. Not with Reo in his arms. He’s gotta be careful. He can’t hurt the kid. It’s not his fucking fault he’s been trapped in the care of a monster like him. 
Dabi gasps at his sudden, protective instincts. The fuck? This kid is nothing to him. Nothing. He doesn’t remind him of anyone. No, he’s nothing like his little brothers, all questions and sweet, brief hugs. He’s not...he’s not…
Reo’s hum of agitation breaks Dabi from his swirling emotions. The boy tries to lift his legs away from Dabi’s hips, his arms wrapping around Dabi’s neck, suddenly unsure and starting to whimper. 
“It’s too hot,” he complains, his voice small and soft in Dabi’s ear.
“I know,” Dabi concedes, taking another deep breath, trying to still that rushing rage that is lingering in the back of his mind. “Sorry kid, it should stop in a minute.”
“Ok,” Reo nods, his black hair mingling with Dabi’s spiky tendrils. 
Twice has stepped forward and he’s standing beside Dabi, his head cocked, looking from the shivering boy to Dabi’s haggard expression. “He does look a lot like you,” Twice ponders, his fingers tracing his chin meditatively. There’s something about Twice that Reo is bothered by and his face falls into the hollow of Dabi’s neck and shoulder, straining his body against Dabi, away from the black and red suited man that’s beside Dabi’s elbow.  
“Fuc-- Piss off, Twice,” Dabi growls, his blue eyes narrowing and hardening as he pats comfortingly at Reo’s back, twisting from Twice’s curious stare. “You’re freaking the kid out. Hey! Hey, don’t you assholes have some bootlicking to do?” Dabi snaps, his eyes lifting to the gaggle of MLA members, who are still giggling and whispering across from him. And, just as those words leave his lips, Reo’s mother, finally, finally returns. 
“Oh thank you!” She coos, raising her arms to Reo and peeling him away from Dabi. To Dabi’s shock, Reo still shakes his head, his arms retightening around Dabi’s tense neck.
“Oooh, he’s taken a liking to you I see!” 
“You gotta let me go, kid,” Dabi whispers into Reo’s ear, unlacing his little arms. Reo whines and pouts as Dabi presses him back to his mother, a sigh of relief shuddering from his mismatched lips. Thank fucking God. Now he can have this woman tell all of those shits that he’s not this boy’s father...wait...what the fuck? Oh...oh, now they all leave.
The MLA lackeys are drifting away, walking in a tight bunch as they re-enter the common area, soft grins still lingering on Dabi. And Twice? Twice is snickering openly and making his way down an adjacent hallway, no doubt off to tell Toga what he’s seen.
“Thanks again. Looks like you did a great job,” Reo’s mother repeats, shifting her son to a better position, trying to quiet his frantic scrabbling, his small arms still reaching, struggling for Dabi.
“Dadi!” Reo cries, a few tears falling from his soft face as he’s walked away. In another heartbeat, they’re both gone and all Dabi has left of that strange little kid is the lingering sting and warmth of his embrace on his burned skin.
Notes: Dabi is a grump. Or is he? o(TヘTo)
Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores
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Can you tell more about Diaries of the old chancellor/Diaries of the traitor?
Oooh yes! This is actually one of the older ideas, hence the double title, the one referencing "Lalka" is obviously the later one. The basic idea was that after the events of TMW Isa tries to hide somewhere to think about evereything that happened in peace and accidentally stumbles into Esteban's room. Now, normally she'd never look through his stuff, but now she's desperately trying to make sense of it all and understand what really happened today and those 44 years ago. While looking through the things on his desk she finds a notebook that she soon realizes is Esteban's journal. She fights with herself but eventually starts reading through it and notices that it only lasts a few months back, but according to the number on the cover there should be over ten more. So she searches his room and eventually finds the rest in a chest with many trinkets and memoirs from his youth and childhood. For a moment she hesitates since this is technically stealing and those are his private possesions, but eventually she decides that she's doing it with a good intention and if Esteban was here she'd simply ask him, but since she can't then, well... And so she takes all his journals and starts her journey into her cousins past.
I've started writing it in Polish but here's a quickly translated fragment.
This afternoon everything had been happening all at once, so quickly and chaotically that now that everything had finally calmed down, a whirlpool of thoughts didn't allow Isabela to fall asleep. The reason for those thoughts had obviously been Esteban. She simply couldn't understand what he betrayed them, and Isa hated not understanding something. But more than that, she was hurt by her cousnin's betrayal. He was familia and she always thought of him as of her older brother, so why? Suddenly a memory came to her mind. They were sitting under a tree in the garden and snacking on some tamales swiped from abuela. They were watching the jaquins proudly soar the skies when Esteban said he'll tell her a secret. She leaned closer and he whispered quietly to her ear "You're my favourite cousin. Just don't tell Elena." He winked at her and they both burst into giggles.
While searching for a fragment to translate I also found a version in which Elena was supposed to find his journals, but now I really can't see her reading them if she knew they were his, and someone would have to go through a lot of trouble to censor them if she was to not know.
I really like this idea and I think this fic is a great opportunity for me to finally introduce all those random headcanons (and allude to other unwritten fics), the only thing stopping me is that I have no idea how it's supposed to end x)
Still, thank you for this ask!
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druidx · 3 years
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Family Treasures
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (2015) Context: A friend linked me a TAG fic with the most perfect description of Lasagna I have ever read. I then got carried away and read nearly every fic she recommended to me... and then I figured I should watch the 2015 version of Thunderbirds (having only seen fragments of the original ‘60s show as a kid)... and then this happened. I’ve also been leaning heavily into the subtext thing still, so constructive criticism, with subtext in mind, is welcome on this piece. Words: 1700 CW: Injury mention, worried people, minor maudlin thoughts Tagged: @viawrites-andacts​​ @strosmkai-rum​​ @scribeofred​​ Read on AO3
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Kayo paces. Her sleek leather boots sink into the plush carpet of Tracy Island's lounge. She has been grounded by injury, left to recover while the Tracy boys are out there doing what they do best. She trusts them; knows they know what they're doing, knows they can handle themselves... But it doesn't help. Her fingers itch to activate the comms, but she doesn't. The boys don't need her micromanaging, and she trusts John to forward anything if he thinks she can assist... But still, the ache remains.
Those leather boots softly tap as she reaches the parquet flooring, and Kayo finds herself standing in front of Jeff's desk. It's a big, sturdy, mahogany thing. Impish sunlight glints off the polished surface, winking and laughing. It makes her think of Virgil. The sun drifts behind a cloud, and the laughter vanishes. She turns away.
Her steps lead her to the portrait of Thunderbird One, and the nicknacks beside it. Her eyes slide over the portrait – seen a hundred times before – to an antique barometer on the shelves. And there is Scott: Quicksilver in a glass; carefully controlled vim and daring. She pictures him in freefall, madcap laughter stolen by the rushing wind. The thought of his pack failing at fifty thousand feet is enough to have her leaning against the wall, head reeling like she's nosediving, seconds before the impact that has left her arm in a sling, and Thunderbird Shadow a pile of scrap.
Kayo huffs out her indignation at her weak and maudlin thoughts, wrenching back from the wall. She pinwheels away, her boots marking out time on the parquet as she passes in front of the vast window. Outside the sun glimmers off the swimming pool. Bright. Cheery. Such a laughable contrast to the storm inside. She wishes it were raining, dark skies and tempestuous winds. The bowl of forget-me-not blue is almost mocking in its temptation. She closes her eyes, breathing deeply, and brings herself back to ground level.
Kayo finds herself in the far corner of the lounge, at a kitschy '60s coffee table tucked into the fold of the room. On its surface sits a porcelain pug, which reminds her of Sherbet – and, by extension, his owner. It appears delicate – a dainty conversation piece; but her foot knows it is sturdier than one might think. Her eye catches on a woollen beanie, abandoned next to the pug – and she scowls; Lady Penelope has Parker to keep her from serious trouble. Kayo's brothers are up there without their usual safety net.
She turns back, pacing towards the piano. She plays only a little; her mother insisted, to start with. But after a year of tantrums and sword fights, Mama Kyrano gave up. But the island is empty – even Grandma Tracy is on the mainland – and the house is too quiet.
Kayo sits down at the piano and raises the lid, leaning absently to the side as a small, spring-loaded, plastic frog sails over her shoulder – the latest victim in the ongoing prank war. Her fingers wander over the ivories, and she settles into picking out Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in the upper third. As the sweet notes fill the air, Alan comes to mind – bright, lively, graceful; effortless as the rising music. Kayo lifts her head as if she might somehow see to the edge of space; see Thunderbird Three shimmering with star-stuff as if picked out in the silver, gossamer notes she plays. She dismisses the fanciful thought with a twitch of the lips, finishing the refrain.
As her hand falls still, she looks across the room, gaze drawn back to Jeff's desk. She remembers the moment he asked her to become his head of security – when Papa Kyrano retired. She'd not long returned from her last field stint with Mossad when he'd called her to the desk. His lips had asked her to help him protect the world; his eyes had asked her to protect his boys.
Kayo sighs, the guilt of disappointing the indomitable Jeff Tracy laying heavily over her shoulders. She closes the lid and turns on the stool, intending to resume viewing life through the plate-glass barrier, when her foot nudges the plastic amphibian, abandoned on the floor. She picks the thing up, lips quirking at the cartoonish features – the bugging eyes and wide, red grin – and is inexplicably reminded of Gordon. Kayo places it on the piano, where it wobbles, brilliant green out of place on the ebony-silk surface. Three birds, two star-men, but only one squid-boy. She purses her lips and tries to tell herself the unease this thought causes is about lack of process redundancy. Perhaps she should expand her skillset in an aquatic direction...
She stands with purpose and walks over to the nook in which sits Goron's transport chute. But as Kayo reaches over to activate the chute, a flicker of something catches her eye. Her free hand is already fumbling for her stun-gun when the interloper reveals itself: a long-legged tropical spider has found its way into the aquarium. It flails and panics, and she wonders if it might drown. But even as she watches, it's already hoisting out of the water and building a complicated nest in the corner of the tank. Kayo watches it work, watches its ingenious use of resources in an unfamiliar environ, watches it engineer a refuge... and thinks of Doctor Hackenbacker. Distracted from her previous thought, Kayo turns away from the chute access, making a note to tell Gordon about the spider. She doesn't think it's a threat to the fish, and the lid is a four-handed affair. Besides, knowing Gordon, he'll want to coddle the thing before he releases it.
Instead, Kayo climbs to the mezzanine. Somewhere in the aether, a stack of security reports grows ever larger, but she is unable to read them, to even consider distracting herself with them at a time like this. Worry still fills the well of her stomach, bilious and vile. There are too many close calls, too many near misses. Too many times she's snatched one of her brothers from certain doom. She's so useless here. Idly, she picks up a blown-glass paperweight. Does John ever feel like this? she wonders as she stares into its nebulaeic swirls. Drifting high above them, like a flame-haired malāk – a messenger of God – with his brothers so far from his grasp, does John ever feel powerless? She wonders how he does it: how he can stay so removed from the action, remaining so calm. She wonders how he manages the silent panic that maybe this is the mission someone does not come back from.
The glass has chilled her hand, chasing phantom skeins of cold and fatigue through her body. Kayo carefully replaces the paperweight and makes her way back down the stairs. She settles into the sofa lining the conversation pit, a hand falling to her side as she allows her body to sink into the plush stuffing. Something rough touches the side of her hand, and Kayo fishes out a blackened cookie from where someone – Gordon or Alan, most likely – has stuffed it between the sofa cushions. Kayo screws up her nose, making a noise of revulsion. It's been at least a week since Grandma Tracy tried baking again. Mouth still in a down-curve of disgust, she leans to put the cookie on the table but finds herself pausing as the light sluices across its dark, oleaginous, undulating surface. It reminds her of the Iceland mission and the pictures of cooling magma Doctor Hackenbacker proudly showed off – and his lecture on igneous rocks. Created by fire, he'd said, melded and reforged into something tougher. Used the world over – even here on the island – as foundations. Unshakable and resistant to all the world could throw. It makes her think of the island's second foundation, of all Grandma Tracy has been through, and yet still stands firm and loving despite it.
She wishes any of her extended family were here, now. Like that spider, Kayo feels out of her depth, could do with someone strong, cheery, soothing; a solidity under her feet. But they are not.
Kayo is a woman who knows when her limits have been met. The island is empty, there's no one around to witness the break caused by cracks of worry, pain and fatigue. Her lip wobbles, vision growing hazy with tears. She gives a small sob, then another, allowing herself the luxury of a little cry.
"Kayo?" She sniffs, swatting at her eyes, and looks up to see Alan's hologram looking down at her, eyes pinched with worry, tone edging towards frantic. "Kayo, is everything okay? John-" "John," comes the even tone of the auburn-haired man who appears next, "should be more careful about what side remarks he makes while on comms to his worry-wart little brother." He rolls his eyes. "Sorry to disturb you, Kayo. But your telemetry did do something unusual a few moments ago-" "Kayo? Alan pinged me. What's your status?" Scott cuts in, as if they are in the sky and all is normal. Before Kayo can say anything, Lady Penelope appears, the picture of decorum and class as usual. "I'm sure it was nothing. Isn't that right, darling? Just a little wobble, eh?" her Ladyship says. "'Wobble'?" asks Gordon, from where he and Brains cluster behind the pilot of Thunderbird Two. "What the hell does- Hey!" Kayo's lips twitch in amusement, as Gordon rubs his head from where Virgil has given him a brotherly love-tap. "It means: keep your nose out, squid-boy," Virgil tells him. "Is everything okay, Kayo dear?" says Grandma Tracy. "John asked me to- Oh," she adds, looking at the packed comm channel. "Well, it looks like you all beat me to the pinch." She smiles and rubs the back of her neck. Kayo looks over her family with a swift, critical eye. Apart from Gordon's head, they all appear healthy and uninjured. Relief floods through her, loosening tense muscles. Her wry amusement turns into a full-blown smile. "I'm alright," she says. "Like Penny said, it was just a little wobble. Everything is F.A.B."
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nicohverse · 2 years
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Entropic Float Biweekly Update #10
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Ten whole updates, and it's been a journey! There's plenty more to go, but I've made loads of progress and streamlined a lot of processes since I began. Let's start things off right today with this beautiful art of Madeline by RabbitProtocol on twitter! This was commissioned for me as a Christmas Gift from my good friend Casper, the Director of Heart Fragment. I got a few lovely pieces from others (and for myself!) as holiday gifts, so there will be more to share in the next few updates too. It's been 3 weeks since the last time I posted instead of the usual 2, so I've got a lot to share! Let's get into it.
Writing:
38/54 segments written! Four segments in the gap again. This time it was both of Kanatsun's night endings, then the intro and first puzzle of Rashmi's morning route. May not seem like much for three weeks, but as with before, I have parts of later segments written partially. Notepad doc while at work style! Just because I'm a full time employee doesn't mean I won't fit writing in where I can. Plus, a lot of the work I've done since last time relates to assets!
Talksprites:
No change since last time.
Voice Acting:
Since last time, I received the voicelines for Amelie! That leaves just True, Touko, and JJ left to learn to speak!
Background Images:
I've gone from 13/17 to 17/17! That's right, there were four rooms left to build, and I built them all. All of Rashmi's Puzzle Rooms! You can see a CG that takes place on one of them below. I'm also at 13/14 of the on-route hand-drawn CGs. The one that's left is also partially drawn, I just took a break midway through because I needed to finish building a background for reference. Further, I drew a bunch of cute little chibi representations of the cast. Still deciding where in the game I'll implement those.
There may still be new background images added for the True Ending when I begin development on that section, but for the time being, this task is complete!
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Background Music:
No tracks have been added since last time.
My goal progress from last time:
- Finish filling in the gaps left in the last two Kanatsun segments
- Export and deliver a demo of the Kanatsun Routes for my beta testers
(Half of my beta testers have completed the process and I have a lot of changes to make to polish the Kanatsun routes, but I'll wait till the verdict's in from all four of them~!)
- Build and Screenshot the four rooms necessary for the Rashmi Routes
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Draw the five CG images necessary for the Rashmi Routes  
(I've got one left to finish. 4/5 ain't bad!)-
Deliver all visual assets to Casper to begin the process of making a proper trailer.
(We're hoping to have the trailer ready in April!)
My goals for next time:
- Finish the remaining 4 segments (Intermission, Puzzle Room, Both Endings) of the Rashmi Morning Route
ahead of schedule!
-Add one more music track-Start posting the OST to youtube
That's a much shorter list than last time! For the time being, my progress is going to be returned to much like it was during November. That strategy of mass-producing all the visual assets ahead of time worked so well for me there that I just had to do it again. At this point, all I really need to do is zero in on writing the Rashmi Routes. The process is going to open up again a ton more when I start working on the True Ending- I'll need lots of new assets, need to completely rework the way I look at my writing segments since the presentation will be vastly different, and program in a whole lot of extra stuff since there's even a shift in the gameplay! I'm getting close to when I'll need to think about that, but for now, I've got a short list.
I'm currently ahead on my schedule, which reflects January, February, and March each taking a full month for a full Rashmi Route. Being ahead of schedule now will give me more time to tune up the game closer to launch, or give me a cushion if something happens and I lose the ability to work on Entropic Float for a period of time. Beyond that, I predicted April and May for work on the True Ending, June for integrating sound effects throughout, and the first week of July before I release for final checks and tune-ups. We'll see how realistic this ends up being!
Until next time, thanks for your support!
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looye29 · 1 year
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A friend of mine asked me, “How many languages can you speak fluently without errors?” I was a little taken aback as I had always felt proud of being a polyglot (someone who is multi-lingual). I could converse in a couple of other languages but speaking without making a mistake - I wasn’t so sure! This remark made me think about polishing my language skills. I began looking for a course to learn using languages confidently without making mistakes. Learning a new language is always exciting! I started looking at Rocket Languages as an option, and as I looked further, I was convinced of its capabilities! Mastery over languages is never easy to achieve and requires your full attention and focus. With most language apps, you will need to devote a lot of time to lessons. Once you sign up for Rocket Languages, you will understand why it is such an excellent language training tool. It aims to make the best use of your time. What is Rocket Languages? Rocket Languages is a popular language-learning website and app today. It is a comprehensive and interactive language learning tool. Its primary focus is on learners keen on achieving proficiency in the language they want to master. Currently, the languages you can learn are Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese, Italian, Hindi, German, Korean, Chinese, French, and Russian. The app trains you to read, listen, write, and speak the chosen language fluently. Rocket Languages has three difficulty levels for each language, which in turn have modules. There are several lessons within the modules too. Rocket Languages use a point system to track your progress and help you improve your score every single day. You can compare your points on a graph and leader board. The program focuses on: Improving new vocabulary (using flashcards as teaching tools) Hearing to improve your speaking skills (using audio clips) Perfecting your pronunciation (using voice recognition tools) Quizzes to find out how far you have understood the conversation in the lesson Writing tests Methods of Teaching It is recommended to do the language course online via a computer or via their app. They have both IOS/Android versions. However, if you wish, you can also download their course material as PDF files. The audio lessons have various levels that have 30 lessons each and take a total of 60 hours to cover. Each lesson makes you listen to an audio clip on a particular topic lasting about 15 to 40 minutes - this will be in your native language and in the language you want to learn. You will get a translation of the clip, and you must repeat the words and phrases out aloud. The vocabulary and the grammar portion are divided into fragments, and you get tasks such as games, quizzes, and flashcards. You will find that each level comes with 60-120 hours of culture and language lessons. Grammar is given importance so that you understand the language better and get a better insight into the origin country's culture. Since the lessons contain many texts, you may find it a tad tiresome, but they are definitely useful, and you shouldn’t give up. There is a whole section for writing lessons in the language you want to learn. You will learn new characters, and this will help you further. The site follows a highly targeted self-teaching strategy. The survival kit lessons teach you to use phrases that are mainly used in your day-to-day life, at shops, when using the public transport system, and at restaurants. Travelogue, available in only a few languages, can be purchased at an additional cost. This helps you when you are about to travel and want to understand the destination country's language. All useful phrases from hiring a taxi to traveling around the city are covered. Progress Monitoring After every session, you have five subsections under "Rocket Reinforcement." Each of them aims to consolidate whatever you have learned in the previous lesson to ensure your efforts are firmly placed in mind.
Your progress is rated by the software, and you cannot move to the next module till all of them are completed. After each audio lesson, you will be asked to translate words in the language you are learning - this is in the self-assessment section. Community The advanced learning technique articles help you learn the languages quickly and efficiently. Language teachers, fellow learners, and native speakers are always available for premium users to interact with. I really like the fact that you have a community of sorts to turn to if you need anything. They are there to help answer your questions during the learning process. Pros It makes you understand and speak the language correctly It suits all learning styles Very easy to understand and follow Engaging and interactive Speaking practice with voice recognition You can play the lessons on a computer or phone As many as 12 languages are taught One-time fee for access all through Audio instructions and interactive exercises are blended well American Sign Language, which is not offered by many language learning sites A simple interface Lots of opportunities to test your learning Cons At times, voice recognition does not work properly Practice exercises are a bit clunky Not enough space for practicing non-Roman scripts There is an expensive initial payment Exercises may be somewhat repetitive The quality of the course differs with each language Final verdict As someone who wanted to learn more languages and learn them well, I find Rocket Languages to be a very useful app. It offers lots of resources to learn to read and write the language. Of course, you must dedicate time to use the material properly. I rate Rocket languages a full 5 Stars! The approach and methodology that Rocket Languages adopts is quite impressive and definitely worth the try if you seriously need to master a language. It is, of course, not without flaws. Yet, you will feel more comfortable with the lessons and exercises compared to many other language teaching sites. After some time, you can always come back for a review. Honestly, being so interactive, the courses at Rocket Languages are addictive!
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tealenko · 3 years
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Somebody that I Used to Know (Chapter 4)
Chapter 4: Armory
It's very late, I should be sleeping, but I'm here writing because i'm in love with this one, I hope you like it as much as I do!!
Summary: Shepard and Kaidan meet by "accident" in the armory and they end up talking about a lot of things, including Shepard's thoughts about Horizon.
Words: 3014 Rating: Teens and Up Warnings: Lenguage
Previous chapter -> [link] All chapters -> [link] Read in AO3 -> [link]
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That one was close. She says to herself, contemplating a dent on her breastplate. Shepard takes a deep breath and starts to pull apart every little piece of her armor, placing them in order on top of the workbench.
She’s always enjoyed this part of the job, maintaining her gear and making sure everything functions properly. And somehow, the repetitive task relaxes her, making her forget the heat of the battle, the boredom in between missions and whichever problem she is trying to deal with.
This has always worked for her in the past, but not this time.
Come on… focus… “Connector AtR95 to plug HG42, and then… then...” She tries her best to concentrate. “Fuck!” A small spark hits her on the hand making her drop the cable.
Stop thinking about it. She tries again, but echoes of her last conversation with Garrus play in her head and there’s nothing she can do to shut them up.
One day you’re gonna have to put yourself first than the rest of the galaxy Shepard. “Yeah… like it is in my hands… I wish it was, so I could... Maybe I could say… What? What’s left to say? No, no… I already know and I don’t wanna hear it, there’s too much at stake and things… Things are good right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to say that… And at least… At least we are friends, which is more than I hoped, and that… that will be enough.” She tries to keep working, only managing to end up fidgeting with some tool before getting lost in her thoughts once again.
Why don’t you hate him? “Why don’t I hate him?” She says using a sarcastic tone. “Why doesn’t he hate me? Or does he? I mean… He did before, didn't he? So who knows...” She looks to the ceiling and moves one hand to her head. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”
She stops working for a second, realizing she’s talking out loud. Lucky for her there’s no one else in the armory, something good had to come from Vega’s little party in the poker room, and now he and Cortez must be already unconscious in the crew quarters, along with the few soldiers that usually work there, so she has the whole place to herself.
All alone… She sighs, not knowing for sure if this fact drepresses her more than it cheers her up. I should keep working…. There's a lot to do.
Shepard focuses on the task ahead and starts checking every seal, repairing bullet holes, fixing the clasps, testing the connections and polishing most of the sections while revising the whole armor inch by inch. She spends around an hour like this, fully concentrated, until a noise on her back distracts her and makes her turn her head just in time to see how the elevator door opens.
Really… someone up there doesn’t like me… There’s no other explanation. “Hey.” She says as a greeting before directing her eyes back to her armor.
Up until a few hours ago she was handling the whole Kaidan situation much better than now, but her conversation with Garrus keeps playing in her mind for some reason. What would you do? Loops in her mind and she feels like a tide is drowning her. She had put so much effort in the last months to sink any type of expectation, of hope, to try to avoid thinking even about the possibility of regaining something she knows forever lost.
“Hey...” He starts walking to where she is. “So here’s where you’ve been hiding?” Kaidan stops right by her side looking at what she’s doing.
Shepard avoids looking at him, knowing she will lose every ability to function like a person the moment she tries to do so. Next time I see Garrus I’m gonna kill him… She thinks while trying to calm down.
“I’m not hiding,” she lies, “just doing some tests and repairs, you know, the less glamorous part of the job.” She says, mustering the courage to look at him while she talks.” Some people tend to neglect it, but it's an important one.”
“I know...” He rests his body on the workbench. “I’ve learned that from the best.” He gives her a big smile, and she’s completely lost.
In just a few seconds her heart starts to warm up, and she feels how the burning sensation travels from there to the rest of her body. Somehow she maneges keep looking at him, but that makes it even worse.
That kind of smile should be illegal. She says to herself.
She’s seen it before and the effect it’s still the same. It's the kind of smile that’s able to melt her heart little by little, strong enough to get through all her walls and fill one by one the many holes she has in her soul. It’s the smile she sees when she closes her eyes trying to erase a bad dream, the one she finds when she looks for a reason to keep fighting.
She has never been able to contain herself when he gives her that smile, and the night before Ilos, among the many memories she holds in her heart, is the best proof of that.
Shepard can feel how her heartbeat rises out of control when her mind starts playing fragments of that night. Oh god… She thinks, trying to avoid getting lost in the many memories she treasures of Kaidan.
Relax… you only have to act like a normal human being. That’s not difficult, right?
She ends up replying with a smile of her own, unable to think about anything safe to say out loud, and trying very hard to calm down a little. But then her eyes travel to his lips and the gates of her memory open within seconds, letting free every little detail, every touch and every feeling so they can haunt her. She can see everything as clear as if it was yesterday, and her whole soul shivers remembering the sensation of having him all to herself.
“Need an extra pair of hands?”
“What!?”
“Help, with the armor...” He looks at her with a little concern in his eyes.
Her whole body panics for a second before she is able to process his words, and the true meaning behind them, not the one she was thinking of. To her relief, thanks in part to the shock, she’s able to focus again on the conversation and manages to give him an answer.
“Ah, no… don’t worry, you must have a lot to do. It wouldn't be fair to you.”
“It’s easier to do with help… Tell you what, we can do mine after yours and we'll be even, what do you think?” She smiles at him, relieved he hasn’t noticed the real reason for the lapse in her concentration.
“Okay, that’s more like it.”
They start working side by side and, at the beginning, they try very hard to not disturb each other. Once they’ve been working for a few minutes the old ways start to kick in and with that, along with the familiarity of the task at hand, they begin to work in the same areas at the same time, with him assisting her wherever she needs to, completely synchronized with one another. Before they realise it they are already working on Kaidan’s armour.
The conversation is also flowing without any problems, to her surprise, although everything they say is related to the job they’re doing. They spend a while like that until she starts asking herself how did he end up here with her, trying to remember the different shifts in her head.
“Kaidan.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve just realized… Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Ah… yes…” He smiles. “I couldn’t… I tried for hours before giving up.”
“Headaches?”
“Yes… among other things.”
“The war and that kind of stuff?” He laughs a little.
“Well, normally yes… but this time Vega is the one to blame.”
“Vega?” Shepard freezes.
“Yeah… Him and Cortez were talking out loud in the crew quarters, heaven knows what they were saying,” he rolls her eyes and sighs “but you could hear the noise from the starboard observation.”
“So you didn’t understand what they were saying?” She asks, trying to sound casual.
“No… something about getting killed I think, so I suppose it was war related stuff.”
“Probably” Shepard says, sighing with relief.
“I would’ve said something but they seemed pretty drunk and, to be honest, I didn't want to bring down the mood.” He smiles softly. “Besides, I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep either way. I even thought of joining them to see what the fuss was about.”
“Luckily you didn’t” Shepard says without even thinking. Shit… I’m an idiot.
“What do you mean?”
“Well… Mmm” Think… Come on, think. “Ehmm… you wouldn’t have ended up here.” She finally says, which isn’t a lie, relieved she’s been able to say anything at all. “I needed the help more than I thought.” She smiles at him as a thank you and he lowers his head a little making a reverence.
“At your service.”
Shepard blushes and smiles before she resumes her job, trying to concentrate again in the armor but failing within a few seconds when another question prompts into her mind.
“How did you end up here?”
“Garrus.”
“Garrus?” Shepard laughs a little, trying to understand how his friend ended up causing this situation.
”Hum… I saw him in the kitchen and we started talking...”
I’m going to kill him.
“... and he said that with James and Steve sleeping this would probably be empty.”
Shepard starts laughing in disbelief, bringing her hands to her face. In the meanwhile Kaidan doesn’t know what to do, feeling like he’s missed some part of the conversation. They stay like that for a few seconds before she starts talking again.
“Remind me to talk to Garrus later.”
“I’m a bit lost here Shepard.”
“He knew I would be here, I told him.”
“I see.” Kaidan smiles and starts processing the information. “So this is a setup, isn't it?”
“So it seems.” She answers.
“Well, at least we were able to finish this.” He says, pointing to their armors.
“Yeah… You should go and rest, you’ve earned it. Besides I don’t think the noise will be a problem anymore, they’re probably in a coma by now.” He laughs at her comment. “Let me store this away, you must be tired.”
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.” He says a little bit hesitant and starts walking away, but before he gets into the elevator he stops and asks her: “Wanna do the weapons tomorrow? It’s been a while since I checked my assault rifle.” She smiles at him.
“Same...” You don’t use an assault rifle. “With my rifle, I mean, my sniper rifle, of course.” You calibrate it every three days. “Same place, same time?”
“Sure.”
“Perfect.”
~
“Can you...” Shepard places a tool in his hands before he’s able to complete the question. “Thank you. You must be used to doing this.” He says laughing.
“I’ve been calibrating weapons since I was thirteen.”
“That would explain why yours has only taken a few minutes to check up.”
They are working in the same area that the day before, right next to each other, and for some unknown reason today they are also alone in the armory.
“Are we sure Vega is still alive? I haven’t seen him in a day.” She says, looking to where he normally stays.
“Well It doesn’t surprise me that he’s hiding...” He turns to see her reaction, “I heard that you two had a rather interesting conversation yesterday.” She freezes right away, dropping the replacement parts she is holding into the ground.
“Sorry.. I… Mmm. The thing is… no.” He tries to hide his smile. “ How on Earth have you found out about that?”
“Garrus.”
Now I’m definitely going to kill him.
“He told me during lunch time.”
“Remind me to talk to Garrus later.”
Kaidan starts laughing a little, comprehending now all the sides of the story, except for one.
“May I ask you a question?” He says, and she can see how his smile fades away to be replaced by concern. “I don’t know if I should ask it.”
“I’m not surprised, It was quite an experience.” She says with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m sure you must have many.”
“No, just the one.” He feels a little bit lost when he says this. She can tell that, whatever it is he wants to ask her, he’s truly afraid of her answer.
“Kaidan...” She makes a pause waiting for him to look at her. “I will listen to any question you wish to ask, and I will reply to you as best as I can.”
He nods, looking directly into her eyes, but stays in silence.
“I mean… Nothing you say will be worse than what I heard yest...”
“Why?” He interrupts her.
“I’m gonna need more info Kaidan.” She smiles at him.
Worry builds up in his expression and he moves one hand to the back of his neck, without really knowing what to do with the other one.
“Why don’t you hate me?” He asks in the end.
“I’m going to start charging for that question, at this rate I’ll be able to buy a house by the time the war is over.”
“Shepard, I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
“Yeah, sure.” He smiles a little but his mind keeps going on and on about the matter at hand. He leaves his tool on the table and moves a few steps to sit down, lowering his head to stare at the floor.
She looks at him for a few seconds, feeling a lot of different emotions bubbling in her heart, before she starts walking to sit by his side.
He stays the same, while Shepard looks far away and tries to find the best way to express what she wants to tell him. A minute goes by before she starts talking.
“Do you remember some conversations we had back in the day? You were worried I would cut corners, let something slide, if I had no other option”
“I remember.”
“You also told me once you wouldn't be able to stay quiet and follow me if I got out of the line.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember my answer back then?”
“You said you did not want me to. That you didn’t need someone following you blindly.”
“So… why should I be mad at you? You kept your word.”
“But...”
“But nothing.”
“And your hand?”
“My hand?”
“Is it true that you broke it by hitting the wall right after Horizon?”
“Ah… Mmm, yes, it’s true.” She laughs a little. He doesn’t. “Look Kaidan, it was a really tough day... well, months.” She starts explaining. “The first thing I did once I understood what was going on after waking up was ask about you, but no one gave me answers. When I finally had some kind of clue, it turns out you were in a colony that was under attack, so I spent hours looking for you, fearing that I would find you frozen at any time or that I wouldn’t find you at all, terrified for your life.”
He raises his head to look at her, but she doesn’t move, her eyes still glued to the wall in front of them.
“And then I saw you, safe and sound, and my whole heart started to burst with joy. I’ve never gone so fast from sadness to happiness.” She makes a pause there. “And then, well you know the rest.”
He starts to look mortified by her words, so she resumes her speech trying to explain herself.
“I’m not judging what you said or did Kaidan, I’m really not.“ She turns to look at him while she continues. ”I’m telling you this so you understand that, when I made it back to the Normandy, I didn’t know what to do with the hundreds of things I was feeling at the same time… So the wall ended up paying the price.”
“I see.” He says, trying to process all the information. ”Well, you were able to redirect your anger. That’s more than I could do… When I think of some of the things I said....”
“It's okay. You see Kaidan, I won’t pretend it was the best day of my life but, after thinking about it, and with some time if we’re being honest, I can’t say that I blame you.” She stops for a second, weighing something on her mind. “Do you wanna know something?”
“Sure.” Kaidan answers, finally relaxing a little.
“I… I think highly of you for staying true to your beliefs.” She says. ”I really admire that about you... I’ve never… I've never met anyone like you, you know?”
“Thanks, that… means a lot.” He smiles softly. ”And thanks for telling me the rest.. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
Their eyes meet for a moment, and neither of them is sure about what to do next. They stare at each other a few seconds before either of them is able to do anything else.
Shepard is the one who manages to come back to reality first. Taking a deep breath, she stands up and smiles at him before starting to speak.
“Hmm… Enough talking, let’s go back to work, what do you think?” He nods and follows her lead, walking back to the workbench. “We should finish this.”
“Just what I was thinking.” He says smiling back. “So… Do you have anything in mind to fix another day?” She starts laughing.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing left in the whole ship. Besides, we'll be heading to the Citadel soon, I have a lot to do there.”
“What a shame.” He says smailing.
“Maybe you should take some time off once we’re there... walk around, have a drink...”
“Well... I’ll think about it.”
---------------------------------------------------------
This one has been the hardest to write out of all of them, but I love the finish result.
This one reflects my exact feeling about Horzon -> Hated it when I saw it the first time, but I ended up loving Kaidan even more because he stayed true to himself.
Previous chapter -> [link] Next chapter -> [link] All chapters -> [link]
Please feel free to ask for fics or give me suggestions!!
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eggytranslations · 3 years
Text
Volume 1, Chapter 1-Ambush
Content warnings: death, ableism, suicidal thoughts, mention of racism?
The whole thing happened so suddenly.
“Thump—”,  a small blue and white porcelain bowl fell to the ground, rolled twice, and fractured into several small pieces. At the same time, the shiny brass bell that had been polished by time also fell from a great height, jingling twice with an especially alarming panic, and then slumped over beside the fragments.
“Shaoye…shaoye, shaoye...somebody help! Shaoye has been bitten by a snake!...”
The shrill voice cut through this early spring afternoon, a rare bright and sunny day. Very quickly, endless bustling footsteps came from the originally tranquil mountain courtyard—kick and clatter—you could even hear the sounds of these panicked footsteps knocking over things. 
Shen Qingxuan widened his eyes to stare ahead, working hard, trying to get a glimpse of the beast that had bit him, but his eyes were blurred, as if they were covered by a layer of thin white gauze, so no matter how hard he tried he could not see clearly. Internally, he could not help but be stunned by the snake’s powerful venom, but also secretly think, man proposes but God disposes. He had thought of countless ways of dying, yet how could he have foreseen that he would ultimately end by a snake’s venomous fangs?
Thinking up to now, in his heart of hearts, he was not shocked, and just closed his eyes. He was vaguely aware that the servants who rushed over had moved him from the chair, and were frantically calling for the physician while yelling for someone to fetch the antidote pills.
And anything after that, he did not know at all.
The eldest young master of the Shen family was bit by a snake in his mountain villa.
This news travelled like the birds in the mountain forest had flapped their wings and carried it out themselves, taking only a cup of tea’s time before sounds of horse feet came from the originally tranquil mountain path. One after another, the horse carriage and silk sedan chair
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finally arrived outside the doors of the mountain villa in a rush. 
The rider on the horse and the noble in the sedan hurriedly disembarked, entered through the doors, and without anyone greeting them, burst into Shen Qingxuan’s room. 
The man lay behind green gauze curtains with both eyes shut tight. His forehead was overtaken by an unclear black-purple color, that dense color was even gradually spreading throughout his whole face. His originally light colored lips became strangely flushed red from the contrast of his black-purple face. His refreshing outer appearance was completely gone. At a glance, he actually looked like three parts human and seven parts ghost already.
“Xiao Xuan!” An elder with lightly frosted temples saw Shen Qingxuan’s state and let out a low cry that was sorrowful and grieved to the utmost point. “My son!” He cried, as if he still had words to say, but could only choke.
“Laoye.” The uninvolved steward who stood to the side quickly interrupted his master’s grief, and reminded him, “Laoye should not be grieving now, the proper thing to do is to think of an idea to save shaoye’s life first.”
“Yes, yes.” Under the rush of grief for his son, Master Shen only woke up to his error through that warning, and he quickly got up with a hand over his eyes. Still choking with sobs, he asked the servant beside him: “Did you all remove the toxin yet?”
“There are always snakes, insects, rats, and ants on the mountain, therefore all the regular medicines are supplied. The antidote pills for snake venom have just been given to shaoye, but...the effects are not clear.”
“What kind of snake was it, could you see clearly?” the steward hurriedly asked.
“It was too chaotic then, this lowly servant could not see clearly. It was coiled on the pergola
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in the yard, but it was also blocked by the branches. In my quick glance, I only saw a section that was as big as the mouth of a bowl…” the servant spoke and gestured, but once he finished speaking, his forehead was firmly slapped. The steward angrily said, “Glib-tongued servant, you are full of nonsense!” Ignoring the servant’s tearful complaints, the steward simply explained to Master Shen, “Laoye, Lu-mou also lived in the mountain forests as a child, but I have never heard of a snake that could grow that thick and big. Unless it is a python, but big as pythons are, they do not easily bite people, and their toxicity is even less likely to be this fierce. This servant must be speaking rubbish, he is only describing it so dreadfully so that he can be punished less.”
Master Shen was terribly upset, and could not handle this presently. He just angrily told the retainer to scram.
“Where is the bite?” The steward asked again of the servant girl who was shaking by the doorpost. She was Shen Qingxuan’s personal handmaid.
“On the wrist.” The maidservand’s face was pallid, and she anxiously added, “Since the sunshine was good today, shaoye wanted to sunbathe, so I wheeled him into the yard. As usual, shaoye wanted to drink a pot of floral tea at that moment. After making the tea for shaoye, I was going to bring some tea cakes, but just as I turned around and walked a couple steps, I heard the tea cup fall to the ground. When I turned back around, shaoye had already been bitten by the snake...” At this point, the maidservant already had tears in her eyes, and was sobbing.
“You saw that snake?”
“I saw it. That person was not lying. That snake really was as thick as the mouth of a bowl, and perched on the railing. When I saw it, it had just drawn back. I saw it was pitch-black, only its abdomen had a bit of gold. I have been on this mountain serving shaoye all these years, and saw some snakes that were beaten dead, but I have never seen such a large snake...”
“It was really that big?” The steward was still uncertain.
Her knees went soft, the girl kneeled on the ground, crying while vowing: “How would this maidservant lie about such an important matter? If there is a trace of a lie, then this maidservant shall die miserably!”
On this side of the room, the steward checked the testimony. On the other side, Master Shen suppressed his sadness to observe his son’s injuries. When he pulled out his eldest son’s wrist, he saw that the injury bitten by the snake’s fangs had already been crossed through with a knife. This helped him relax a bit, knowing a servant was quick-witted enough to promptly slit an opening and suck out the poisonous blood. But this snake venom is too aggressive; in just a short period, it caused a grown man to lose all his senses. Unfortunately, this toxin may have already entered the bloodstream, and would be difficult to clear!
Master Shen grasped that thin and pale wrist, his heart filling with sorrow. It is said that the eldest son is the pillar of his family. He did not have a son until he was 30, yet he let Shen Qingxuan fall into an ice cave at the age of eight. After the rescue and a high fever, not only did his son become mute, but his lower limbs were also damaged by the frostbite, and could only ever be paralyzed on the daybed. Master Shen originally thought it would be easy to raise and support him. There was no need for him to obtain fame and fortune; with the Shen family fortunes, there was no issue supporting the eldest son for his whole, peaceful life. However, who would have thought that at age 27, he would be bitten by a snake.
“That ruinous beast!” With a low shout, Master Shen even had thoughts to catch that snake and eat its meat raw.
“Laoye, do not worry.” The old steward, who has looked after the Shen family his whole life, yet again consoled. “Shaoye’s health has always been weak. Year in and year out, he has been rehabilitating in the mountain villa, therefore all kinds of precious medicines are more or less prepared. Maybe there is still a means.”
“What kind of means?”
“Does laoye still remember what happened during last year’s Mid-Autumn? Someone from Nanman, who had dealt business with the Shen family, gave a tribute of two pills that were said to be capable of relieving all the world’s strangest poisons?”
“I remember, I remember. I saved that medicine. ...Does it really work?”
“Laoshen does not know either, I am just told that the Nanman wetlands contain poisonous insects and wild beasts in numbers. This pill might really have miraculous effects, perhaps?”
“Then why have you not fetched it?” Master Shen stood up in a hurry.
“Aye.”
The medication was quickly retrieved, dissolved in warm water, and administered. As he was fed the medicine, Shen Qingxuan’s jaw was clenched tight, his facial muscles rigid, seemingly a hair’s breadth away from death.
The whole room was engulfed in a state of panic, and the air felt heavy.
Night fell, and the servants lit the oil lamps. Light and shadow quivered.
Shen Qingxuan’s bedroom door opened sometimes and closed sometimes, people shuffling out and in.
Yet not one person noticed, in the swaying shadow of the oil lamp, there quietly stood a man.
Black hair flowed loosely down to his waist. He was also dressed in a black robe, standing with both hands behind his back. The lapels of his robe were embroidered with gold thread into simple decorative patterns. Expression ice cold and lips pursed, he was standing there for who knows how long.
Not one person noticed, and even the people who brushed past him did not cast a glance at him. If anyone had seen him, they surely would not turn a blind eye to this man that looked like a demon on earth.
But indeed, not a single person knew his presence.
The night grew late, Master Shen was tired in both body and heart. He wanted to keep vigil by his son’s bedside, but old age ruthlessly shackled his parental affections. It was the end of February, and although spring had begun, the nights were still cold. After a few soft coughs, Master Shen faintly felt his head start to hurt. Under the steward’s encouragement, although he was loath to leave, he still went to a room warmed by charcoal fire and lay down on the bed.
In the bedroom, there were only the steward and three servants left still looking after Shen Qingxuan.
After another two double-hours passed, Shen Qingxuan, whose breathing had been shallow, gradually gained a steadier and stronger breathing sound. In the shadows, the unmoved, standing man slightly raised his eyes. His eyes showed a spark of surprise; he did not believe this world had an antidote that could actually detoxify his venom.
As expected, when he concentrated a bit to take a closer look at the gaunt and frail man lying on the bed, it dawned on him: this is the so-called rally before death.
Those antidote drugs, at most, only delayed a few threads of time. Antidote? Pure delusion.
Shen Qingxuan struggled to open his eyes. His heavy eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, no matter how he tried, he could not open them.
However, the servant girl waiting by him saw his movements, and joyfully shouted: “Shaoye, shaoye!"
Her noise had a rash joy, and woke up the small courtyard and mountain forest that just fell asleep.
Very quickly, Master Shen came over dressed in a cloak
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and did not even stop to put on his socks and shoes. He frantically ran, and yelled: “Xuan’er, Xuan’er...Have you awakened, Xuan’er? Dad is worried sick...” 
Perhaps the calls of his family gave Shen Qingxuan strength, his quivering eyelids worked to open, and finally they budged. His eyes were slack, taking a moment to focus until the depths of his eyes had some liveliness. 
Shen Qingxuan slightly opened his mouth to speak, yet could not make a sound.
But everyone knew he said, “Dad.”
“Ah, dad is here...” the old man immediately burst into tears. Master Shen did not even care to consider how many years he spent with the stance of an elder, he shakingly grabbed his son’s hand, murmuring, “Qingxuan ah, do you feel better? If you are better, then Dad will be so relieved…”
Shen Qingxuan used all his strength, just to barely pull his rigid face into a small smile. Internally, however, he somehow knew he could not escape death this time. His whole body was entrapped in a sense of paralysis with no ability to move. Whenever he breathed, his nostrils filled with a fishy sweet scent; what’s more, in front of his eyes were bursts of pitch-black with intervals of clarity.
The sensations when one is on the brink of death are probably like this.
Actually, there was nothing to dread. For disabled people like him, death was really not as dreadful as living.
Only, he could not bear to leave his parents and younger brother.
These years, his family was the only pillar he had to support him in continuing to seek happiness in life. Everytime he thought about his parent’s pitiful grief after his passing from this world, he could not bear it in his heart.
He thought about his own death, not because he was abandoning and resigning himself to despair. These years in the wheelchair, he actually grew accustomed to this existence of not being able to take care of himself. Burying his childhood dreams of flourishing a whip and riding a horse was not a very challenging task at all.
He thought about his own death because his health was deteriorating year after year.
Before, he could occasionally bask in the sun, call someone to push him, and go for a stroll in the wooded forest.
But in the last two years, he was getting worse. Catch a little draft, and he would be ill for a period, each time more serious than the last. Eventually, it became so bad he could not get out of bed for a month or two.
This winter, he did not go outside. He barely even opened the windows.
He finally recovered, and wanted to bask a bit in the sun, yet he startled a snake that had just ended its winter hibernation and was out to bask in the sun as well.
Thinking of this, Shen Qingxuan could not help but smile, and think to himself that this sunbathing, it seems, whether for himself or the snake, was not comfortable.
He knew in his heart that the snake was just sunning itself on the railing at first, and he was sitting in his chair—man and snake minding their own business. 
They could have lived harmoniously in peace and returned to their respectives homes after sunbathing.
But somehow a soiled piece of leaf just had to fall into the clear tea water. His natural disposition preferred cleanliness, so he, immediately and without another thought, threw out the bowl of hot tea.
At the time, he did not see that snake. Once he realized it was improper, the tea had already been thrown out, and had drenched those shiny black scales with steaming hot water.
The startled snake turned its head around and took a bite out of the hand he did not retract in time.
In truth though, it was more of his own fault. Such hot water, nevermind a snake, even a mere rabbit would be startled enough to retaliate.
It was a very mighty snake. He only caught one glimpse of it, then got distracted by the pain and had to look away. But Shen Qingxuan still remembered that the snake was gleaming black all over; when crouched with its head erect, its neck and abdomen gleamed golden yellow, which was particularly dazzling in the light of the afternoon sun. Later, he wanted to take a closer look, but could not see clearly anymore. He also was not sure if that snake was scalded or not.
It is said these kinds of apodal animals are completely covered with small scales, and probably are not really easily harmed by a cup of hot tea.
In front of his eyes was another moment of extremely dizzying blackness, to the point that even the sound of his father’s voice by his ear was also drifting away. Shen Qingxuan still wanted to listen hard to what his father was saying, but could only hear the beating thunder in his ears. All the disorderly fragmented sentences came through the thundering, yet were still unable to reach his mind. Shen Qingxuan only knew that his father was speaking, but no matter how hard he exerted himself, he could not hear clearly what exactly his father was saying.
Shen Qingxuan knew well enough that his life was at its limit, internally, he was not sure if he was more melancholic or more relieved. He always knew he was a person not long for this world, but the arrival of this scene still caught him off guard.
The concern in his heart made him want to have one last look at this world that had accompanied him for 20 some years. Even if he barely had the strength to breathe, Shen Qingxuan still worked hard to open his eyes wide—the scattered expression within his eyes was also stubbornly gathered back—to gaze at his family. Focusing for a protracted moment.
His father who was normally healthy and well maintained, appeared old and ragged at this moment. The old steward who had rushed about and busied himself for the Shen family his whole life, the maidservant who had already cried into a mess, all of the familiar people who had been doing their best to take care of him all of these years...his eyes slowly, almost rigidly, moved over everyone’s face, Shen Qingxuan haltingly lifted the corners of his mouth, and showed a shallow smile. As if saying goodbye.
His smile was quite faint, appearing ferocious and crude on his currently three-parts-human-seven-parts-ghost-like face.
Yet, it displayed a profound fondness for and reluctance to let go of living.
Such a despairing fondness, yet it also carried a relief towards death.
Perhaps this smile was too striking for the eyes and too startling for the heart. The cold and still man in the shadows, who had watched this entire scene from beginning to end, raised his eyelids. His pupils, which were as dark as the waters of the deep abyss, rippled from a sudden splash.
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10moonymhrivertam · 3 years
Text
Buffy/Witcher fic fragment
“Julian, duck!” The voice is a little shrill and definitely frantic. Jaskier’s still reeling from the portal, but something about the words has his hand shooting out to drag Geralt down with him. Something flies over their heads, and he looks up to see a headless body crumbling into dust. Which he hasn’t seen anything do in a very, very long time. He tenses at running footsteps, and he has a dagger in hand based sheerly on how frayed his nerves are. The girl standing over them is in jeans and a t-shirt, and he hasn’t seen the combination in decades.
“It is you! Everyone’s going to flip. It’s been years, I’m pretty sure they thought you were dead, especially since nobody really did magic yet when you went missing.” The girl has a hand out, and Jaskier stares at it, his brain buffering. Eventually, he realizes why. He’d gotten a spell to help him learn the most common language on the Continent when he’d arrived there, and now his brain is scrambling to parse English for the first time in twenty years.
“Who the hell are you?” He asks, the words wrapping strangely around his tongue. The girl frowns, her face scrunching into an expression that rings a bell deep in his memory. He’d had a friend that made a face like that...
“Right. The spell. You were gone.” Her hand still hangs in the air between them. “I’m Dawn Summers. I can take you to Giles, if you want.”
Jaskier eyes her for another moment before accepting the hand and then turning to help Geralt up. He doesn’t refuse the help, but there’s something tight in his face that says he doesn’t trust conversations he didn’t understand being had over his head.
“She knows someone that might know something,” he says to Geralt. Geralt grunts, his eyes darting from grave to grave. Jaskier suppresses a sigh and turns back to Dawn.
“Lead the way, Miss Summers.” Her face does something strange, but without a word, she turns on her heel and heads for the gate of the cemetery with unerring accuracy. Geralt’s stony silence felt significant, but every time Jaskier thought of something to say, all he could think was how Geralt was going to tear him apart for this pile of shit later when Jaskier wasn’t the only translator around. Another voice speaking English stopped his anxiety from ratcheting higher.
“Dawn, all I want to know is how I didn’t see you go.”
“I literally just waited until you stopped asking me questions while you were reading. But look, I survived!” Her voice is as bright as the sun. “Also, I found something!”
“You found something?” It wouldn’t have been easy to miss the skepticism in his voice even if Jaskier didn’t already know him. Dawn looks back, drawing Giles’s eye. Jaskier waves awkwardly, suddenly aware of just how much distance time has put between them.
“Julian?”
“Giles. It’s been...a while, for me.”
“It hardly looks like it.” Jaskier recognizes the look from seeing one like it on Geralt’s face more than he remembers it on Giles’s.
“I think that first portal did something to the way I age. Do you want to not-invite us back somewhere?” Which clears up a little bit of the look on Giles’s face, at least.
“I suppose there is an anniversary pizza party which can use a few more guests.”
“Oh, yeah!” Dawn grinned. “You haven’t met Tara yet! Oh, and, um - who are you? Sorry.” Jaskier looked back at Geralt - for a split second, he was waiting for Geralt to answer, then remembered.
“Geralt, this is Dawn and Giles. Giles, Dawn; Geralt. Language barrier.” Geralt had figured that much out already, so he didn’t feel the need to repeat himself.
“Sounded Polish.” Giles said a string of something which almost sounded like a greeting, but made Jaskier make a face. The easiest explanation was just that his accent was incomprehensible, but - then he remembered that they’d hopped from the thirteenth century to the twentieth.
“I’ll look into it,” Jaskier said in very firm English. Giles winced, and Jaskier felt bad for a moment. They quickly got on their way, and silence reigned. Jaskier hated the thick tension in the air, so with a mental fuck-it, he started speaking.
“Say something,” he pleaded with Geralt. “Anything. Three words or less?” The prompt usually worked when all else failed, but then - that had been before that awful dragon hunt half a year ago.
“Apologies are difficult.” The words came slowly, and Geralt looked pained. Jaskier didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Geralt eyed him for a moment before dropping his eyes to the sidewalk. “Harder now that I’m confused. And you’re the only one that knows what’s going on.”
Jaskier bit his lip, processing that. Geralt wanted to apologize, before they were portalled into Sunnydale. That was...a lot.
“This is...” Jaskier trailed off. “It’s where I’m from.” He looked away from Geralt. “A few years before we met, a portal took me from here and dropped me on the Continent. There was a mage that was so frustrated with my charades that she just slapped a translation spell on me. I’m just lucky the mechanics of it mean I can be a great bard. I can still tell the languages are separate, they still feel different, but I just - understand them.” He tapped his temple.
“This is where you’re from?” Geralt repeated. Jaskier looked over to see his eyes roaming from the sidewalk to the road to the power lines.
“It’s got monsters, too, but no witchers. Got something else, though. Oh, and it’s the twentieth century. Twenty-first, maybe, depending how long I was gone. It was the 90’s.”
“You know them?”
“The man. The girl said something about a spell, but...I don’t know what she means. Hold on. Miss Summers, what was that you said before about a spell?”
“Oh, yes, you were gone.” Hearing Giles say the same thing was a point in her favor. “It’s...rather complicated. There was memory alteration involved.”
“So I forgot you?” Jaskier couldn’t help but be a little upset by the idea.
“Wrong way around,” Dawn said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “We probably should wait until we get back, and then everyone else can tell you the way they remember things. It might be kind of neat to see how you tell things.”
“Alright, then.” Jaskier flashed them a disarming smile before turning his attention back to Geralt and shrugging. Geralt hummed and fell quiet again. Jaskier did the same despite himself, at least until the girl drifted back towards them.
[disappearance somewhere mid-s3; this is set in an ambiguous post-s5 everyone-is-happy-fuck-you]
“Is that a guitar?”
“A lute. Learning it was a little different. The tuning’s a bitch.” Giles shot him a look over his shoulder, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. “This is a special one. I got it from the king of the elves.”
Dawn’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, Bilbo.”
“Hey, no, they’re real on the Continent!” Jasker protested. He outlined what history he’d learned at Oxenfurt for her, and by the time he was coming to the end of his impromptu lecture, they were outside a house he recognized, just barely. Giles was first through the door, tossing out a greeting to get a chorus of voices in return. Dawn followed. Jaskier hesitated just one moment. His high school friends seemed to be in there. He hadn’t seen them in going on thirty years. Nonetheless, if he didn’t go, Giles wouldn’t trust him, and he didn’t have any chance of either settling in here or finding his way home. So he forged ahead, hanging onto Geralt’s sleeve. He crossed the threshold without a lick of trouble, and Geralt shadowed him silently.
“Who’s that?” That was Joyce’s voice, he thought.
“We found them in the cemetery!” Dawn said, far too cheerfully. “But we didn’t invite them in,” she added quickly. “You heard!”
“We heard.” That was another familiar one. A few moments later, one of his old friends was in the doorway. “...Julian?”
There was a chorus of ‘what’s, and suddenly it seemed like the entirety of whatever party they were having was in the doorway. Before he’d quite processed it all, Xander had drawn him into a hell of a hug.
“Lute!” He protested, squirming out of the hug. He took off his case and floundered for a place to set it. Geralt gently removed it from his hands and nodded back to the others. Jaskier flashed him a quick, warm smile, then turned his attention back to distributing hugs.
“It’s been a while,” he offered when they’d had their fill.
“How are you not dead?” Xander asked, earning an elbow in the side from Willow. He winced and pouted at her. 
“There was a portal. Which did do something strange to my aging, I’ll admit.”
“You barely look older than me,” Dawn observed, which didn’t help Jaskier as much as it ought to.
“Well, that’s flattering.”
“Why, how old are you?” Buffy asked.
“Coming up on forty-three.” Geralt tensed at the various ‘bullshit’s that rose up. Jaskier flashed him a smile to reassure him. “I’d offer to prove it, but all I have is Geralt’s word, and he never even argued with Yennefer about those crow’s feet jokes, so I don’t know if he noticed.”
“Oh, what are we all standing around the hall for?” Joyce tittered. “Come on, come sit. There’s pizza; soda; some wine.”
“Ooh, they’ve got wine, Geralt!” Geralt hummed. Still holding Jaskier’s lute with something like reverence, he followed Jaskier. At least until Jaskier stopped dead in the door, his eyes narrowing at the man with bleach-blond hair in the middle of what sounded like a pop culture argument with a woman who hadn’t come to greet him. 
“You have more to catch me up on, right now,” he said lowly. Spike looked over and his eyebrows shot up. 
“Pretty boy. Thought you were dead. Nice going on the still being here.” Spike made a vague gesture of congratulations and then turned back to his partner, but she was squinting at Jaskier like she knew him.
“There was a thing,” Dawn answered, dropping onto the couch. “An organizationy thing. Now he basically has a taser in his brain so he can’t eat people. He doesn’t have a soul but he’s still okay.”
“Watch yourself, little bit.” Spike waved a threatening finger at her, and Jaskier nearly leapt forward with his dagger, clear invitation be damned. A hand landed on his shoulder. He tensed and nearly whipped around. 
“Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled in his ear. “What’s going on?”
“When I left, that bastard was out to kill us.”
“And now?”
Jaskier huffed angrily through his nose. “He’s been invited to the party.”
“Treat him like he’s Valdo Marx, then.”
“Not fucking well helpful, Geralt, someday I’ll murder that little shit, I really will.”
“You’re Jaskier and Geralt of Rivia!” The accusation was sudden, giddy, and in the language Jaskier was used to hearing. He and Geralt turned as one to look at Spike’s conversation partner. Jaskier distantly noticed he was staring at her, too, though in a more ‘what the fuck’ way.
“And who would you be, madam?” The flirty, pleased smile touched easily on Jaskier’s face. Xander’s eyes narrowed. 
“Oh, when I went there, I usually went as Anyanka.”
“Anyanka...that’s familiar.”
“It had better be. I had at least three separate summons that stopped me and Hallie having days out because of you.”
“Summons?” Most of Jaskier’s excitement had dropped away.
“I was a demon zemsty.”
“Shit.” Jaskier could feel himself go pale. He could feel Geralt at his back, but couldn’t tell if he was angry or smug or indifferent. 
“But I’m not stupid. Witchers are almost as infamous as Slayers, and you’re the White Wolf’s bard.”
“Slayers?” Geralt asked. 
“It’s what I told you we have instead of Witchers. Except there’s only one, and she’s always a girl.”
“Seems like a lot of responsibility for one person,” he remarked. 
“Which is why Buffy has everyone.” Jaskier made a gesture encompassing the room. “And hasn’t died yet. No, wait, Kendra was Called. Well, she’s never died properly.”
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