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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

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Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man.

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off.

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men.

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot.

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried.

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one.

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point.

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day.

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man.

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn.

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering.

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard.

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above.

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you.

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible.

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman.

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath.

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do.

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks.

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?”

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something.

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that.

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch.

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans.

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even.

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut.

What’s wrong with you today?

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again.

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person.

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark.

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair.

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins.

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close.

“When?” you question.

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement.

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine.

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself.

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half.

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones.

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response.

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings.

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused.

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike.

A man, as usual.

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory.

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will.

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time.

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand.

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually.

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment.

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change.

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all.

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot.

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank.

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again.

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all.

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately.

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth.

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something.

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last.

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed.

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away.

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him.

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around.

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly.

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly.

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes.

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time.

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him.

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl.

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally.

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding.

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject.

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food.

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat.

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question.

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond.

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought.

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible.

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump.

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one.

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense.

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend.

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe.

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt.

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded.

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help.

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder.

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips.

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly.

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it.

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building.

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

That night, it rains.

Thunder echoes, with ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands.

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes.

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning.

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it.

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual.

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think. Please protect me. Please do this for me.

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android.

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are.

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you.

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now.

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good.

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor.

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself.

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes.

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea.

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators.

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him.

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy.

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does.

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying.

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead.

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second.

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

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soldrawss · 3 years

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Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive.

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames.

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since.

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside.

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back.

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out.

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain.

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo.

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway.

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable.

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world.

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they.

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do.

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties.

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away.

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

#my work #one piece #monkey d. luffy #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #asl brothers #age gap au #oh ho look at me #my fics all start after this moment when sabo is overseas #so this is just context for that.#enjoy please and sorry in advance #i've thought too much about this au #it lives rent free in my head always

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

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Friendly Competition

Request: Ok so the bau reader and Spencer aren’t dating but have been like hanging out and going for dinner and doing movie nights and such (not calling anything a date tho), and then on a case an officer is all flirty with the reader over the few days that they’ve been there and spencer gets all moody and jealous and is kind of a jerk and has to apologize but it also pushes him to finally ask the reader out on a real date

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to publish like tf I could have finished this yesterday, but I took a lil (two hour) nap and then goofed around on my laptop for hours a mess i know. All that being said this was a request I loved writing because who doesn’t love a jealous Spencer? Enjoy! (side note: I wrote this fic without specifying a gender/specific pronouns to include readers who do not identify as female/woman/she/her. I’m trying my hand at it here because the request only said BAU reader, so I thought it might be nice to make this request more inclusive. To whoever sent this in, I hope that’s okay with you and that you like it!)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Bau!Reader

Category: Angsty fluff

Content warning: Slight mention of murder

Word count: 2.3k

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You and Spencer were sitting in the conference room in the Dallas Police department. You and the team had been called in to investigate a series of female bodies popping up in a river bed. It had been two days since you had reached Dallas and the case was making a bit of progress.

Hotch had assigned you and Spencer to tackle geographical profiling. Geographical profiling wasn’t your natural talent, but the dynamic energy you and Spencer had at work was undeniable. Outside of work it was even better. Recently you had found yourself going on outings with Spencer. Whenever he wanted to do something you were the first person he would ask.

It was quite fun hanging out with Spencer after work. Whether it was a movie, dinner or stroll through the park, he made it the best time for you. You found him entertaining and charming on these special occasions. You hoped he would want to ask you out on an official date.

In the meantime though, you two worked diligently on solving the case at hand. You both were looking at a map of the area and pinpointing spots these women were last seen alive. Your mapping was interrupted by a knock on the door. You both turned around to see officer Mark Lucas at the doorway with his hands behind his back.

He had been around during the several conversations detective Frederick had with the team. Every time he looked at you with star-spangled eyes. He would repeatedly ask you if you needed anything as well. The day prior he asked if you wanted anything for dinner and the both of you could go get it. You politely declined, but found it cute how intrigued he was by you.

Spencer on the other hand found it quite obnoxious. Every time Mark would compliment you, touch you or stand slightly too close to you, you could feel Spencer’s blood pressure rise. Mark’s admiration for you was for sure overbearing and he made it known loud and proud. He would take any opportunity to flirt with you and every time Spencer would make sure you knew he was upset.

He smiled at you. “So, what’s that beautiful mind of yours thinking of?”

You tried to hide your blush by looking away from him. He definitely had an undeniable southern charm about him. You looked over to Spencer to see him roll his eyes at what Mark had said. You could tell since day one he didn’t like Mark’s presence. He would always look at him weird or roll his eyes.

“We’re just doing some geographical profiling,” you explained.

“I thought you were hard at work. Bet you’re pretty hungry,” he said and then revealed what was behind his back.

It was a white paper bag. He placed it in front of you and eagerly awaited as you opened it to inspect what was inside. It was a sandwich, bottle of water and fries from a local diner you had mentioned to him yesterday. He was definitely a good listener.

You smiled. “Thank you, Mark. I really appreciate it.”

“A man like me couldn’t bear to see you work so hard as you do and not supply you with food. It’s the minimum I could do for an extraordinary person like you, Y/N,” he said.

“There are women popping up dead down the road and you can’t bear seeing Y/N hungry? Makes me wonder where your real priorities are at,” Spencer bitterly said.

You were taken aback by his snippy tone. You had never heard Spencer talk to anyone besides a suspect or unsub like that. You were starting to wonder if he had the same hatred towards Mark. You didn’t get why though. It wasn’t as if you two were exclusive or anything.

Mark smiled at him. “Don’t take this gesture as me not caring about the crime, agent, because I do. I just thought you folk would be hungry doing all this hard work.”

“First of all, it’s Doctor and if that’s true then I guess you must have left my lunch back at the diner,” Spencer said as he got up from his seat.

“Where are you going? We still have to finish this geographical profile,” you said.

“I’m going on a lunch break as well. More than one of us needs to eat,” he said as he started walking towards the door.

“Well, if this spot’s empty, may I keep you company?” Mark said as he took Spencer’s seat beside you.

You smiled at him. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t you have some paperwork or something you have to do?” Spencer asked.

Mark looked at him with a playful confused face. “I thought we were on lunch break?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something back to Mark which you knew would be vicious. You looked at him and shook your head, discouraging the bickering from going any further. He rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. You and Mark watched as he walked off. You sighed and shook your head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, darlin’. He just needs to take a break to cool off,” Mark assured you.

You shrugged. “I guess, but I hate seeing him upset.”

“He just needs some space. After he gets something in his system he’ll be brand new. Maybe if you start eating too you’ll feel better as well,” Mark said.

You smiled. “I guess so.”

After having lunch with Mark, he had to go back to his patrol duty for the afternoon. It was nice having some company while you ate. Spencer hadn’t come back like you thought he would since he usually only drinks coffee for lunch anyway. It was probably for the best since Mark was taking every moment you two spent together to shower you with endless compliments. If Spencer was there he would have definitely had a few words to say.

You walked down the hall to go to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle. Before you entered you saw Spencer walking your way with a coffee in his hand. You smiled and waved at him as he looked at you with a smile as well.

“I see you needed a bit of coffee to brighten your mood,” you said.

“I think I needed a break from seeing that officer drool all over you,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “He wasn’t drooling over me.”

“He’s been drooling over you ever since we’ve got here and you eat it up. No need to deny it, Y/N,” he said.

“Whatever, it’s not even important right now. We’ll get back to work as soon as I fill up my water bottle,” you said as you walked into the kitchen.

You heard Spencer’s footsteps follow you inside the kitchen. To both of your surprise, Mark was in there getting ready to take the trash out. He saw you walk in and instantly smiled.

“Hello, beautiful. Don’t you have some work you need to be finishing up?” Mark asked with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, I’m just filling up my water bottle before Spencer and I get back to it,” you said as you approached the sink.

He walked up to you. “Allow me. Can’t have you working too hard on little tasks like this.”

“Y/N’s capable of turning on a tap and filling a water bottle,” Spencer snapped.

“No need to have your knickers in a knot, agent. It’s just some good ol’ southern hospitality I’m offering to Y/N,” he said.

“I’m flattered, really, Mark, but I don’t want you to miss your patrol duty and get into trouble,” you said.

“No need to worry, gorgeous. I had to clean the kitchen up a little first anyway. I don’t mind making your day a bit easier,” he said.

“Okay, you know what, whenever you two are serious about finding this unsub, let me know,” Spencer said as he turned around to walk out the door.

“Spencer, are you serious right now? You don’t think we’re serious about finding this unsub?” You asked.

He turned around. “I know you somewhat are, Y/N, but the southern hospitality oriented officer isn’t. I’ll finish the geographical profile on my own. Hotch needs some help with interviews anyway.”

You looked at him in shock. “It’s one thing to be a jerk, but to reassign me to do something else is another thing.”

You turned around to quickly fill up your water bottle and then stormed up to Spencer. You could tell by his eyes he started to feel bad about what he had said. You didn’t care though. If this was how he was going to deal with his jealousy towards Mark, it was time to give him some space. He needed some time to find the real reason why he had to make his jealousy go so far.

“I’m going to Hotch now. Talk to me when you decide you don’t want to be a child anymore,” you said.

Before Spencer could say anything to you, you stormed off. You didn’t want to hear him explain himself because you knew it would be some weak excuse. You soon shed what had occurred in the kitchen, so you could focus on interviewing with Hotch. The case was more important at the moment than immature boy drama.

The next day you were out on the road with Hotch, JJ and Rossi as all of you went to the areas the victims were last seen. The geographical profile Spencer had finished was handy, you had to admit. Would have probably been even better if you could have helped finish it.

On the way back to the police department, you thought about if Spencer had gotten over his jealousy. You had never seen him act so viciously to another man before. You guess Mark was coming on a bit strong, but Spencer and you weren’t much more outside of friends. His actions made you wonder if he saw you as something more.

When you and everyone else arrived at the station, you decided you wanted to use the washroom before helping them deliver the profile. Hotch had allowed everyone ten minutes to prep before they delivered the profile. As you made your way towards the washroom, something caught your eye in the conference room. You saw Spencer sitting in there alone. He looked as if he was in deep thought.

Your curiosity got the best of you and you walked into the room. He hadn’t noticed you since his eyes were still focused on the table, eyebrows still furrowed. You slightly cleared your throat to get his attention. His head immediately shot up and when he saw it was you, his face soon softened.

“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be back so early,” he said as he sat up in his chair.

“Well, we have everything we need to deliver the profile now,” you said.

“I see. Do you have a few minutes to spare before then?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I guess I have some time to spare for you.”

He smiled as he pulled out the chair to his right for you. You walked over and took your seat. You could already tell by his face how sorry he was about yesterday. He looked adorable as his face was slightly pink with embarrassment and you could tell he was searching for the right words to say to you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about my behaviour yesterday. It was out of line and I shouldn’t have said you didn’t care about the case,” he apologized.

“Why were you so angry? Is someone a bit jealous of Mark?” You asked.

He looked down in embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“What? I can’t hear you with your face to the floor,” you said.

He looked up into your eyes. “I guess I am jealous of Mark. He shows you this undying admiration and love and I thought you were enjoying his company more than you could ever enjoy mine.”

“What? That’s nearly impossible, Spence. I love your company the most,” you assured him.

“Again, I wasn’t thinking rationally for the past few days. I thought about it last night and I think why this jealousy flared up so much is because I thought I was too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Too late for what?”

“Too late to actually ask you out on a real date. I’ve been meaning to, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to.”

“Why did you think I didn’t want to?”

“Because I didn’t think you saw me more than a friend, so I built an irrational sense of jealousy over that assumption.”

You sighed, but it soon turned into a giggle. “I thought Doctorate graduates had to do labs before publishing their research? You’re out here making all these assumptions without even testing it first.”

He chuckled. “I know, it was stupid of me to do and I’m sorry again.”

“No hard feelings at all.”

He smiled as he eagerly looked at you. You looked at him confused as you didn’t know what he was waiting for. Then his face turned into a worried expression which made you look at him worried.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“You didn’t answer if you’d actually want to go out on a real date or not,” he said.

You laughed. “Spence, actually ask me in context. What you said didn’t count as a question, it was a confession.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. Would you want to go out on a real date with me?”

“Only on one condition,” you said.

He looked at you confused. “Anything. What’s the condition?”

“I get to revoke your Doctorate until you prove to me why they gave you three again because I think they need to reevaluate your critical thinking skills,” you joked.

He laughed. “Almost anything.”

You both laughed as you two headed out of the conference room. As you both headed out you saw Mark walking towards you two. In a second Spencer grabbed your hand to hold it. You looked at him and saw him beaming with pride as you two walked by Mark. You rolled your eyes. No matter how smart a man was, a man in love would always be dumb.

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid request #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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heliads · 3 years

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Firestarter

Y/N L/N is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the ability to control fire. She keeps her powers hidden to protect herself, although she doesn’t count on accidentally revealing them to Steve Rogers when she saves his life.

masterlist

You open your hand. Slowly, carefully. The flames spring up almost involuntarily, a gut instinct that you can’t seem to turn off. You stare for a while, and when you look away you can still see the inverses dancing across the walls. Hot tongues of fire that lick across your palm, soaring higher and higher with the slightest impulse.

You suppose you would appreciate your powers if it weren’t for your line of work. You became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before you realized their true attitudes towards people with abilities, and you’d discovered soon after that if you wanted to survive and stay out of the labs, you would need to keep your little fire habit a secret. No matter what all-inclusive, power-friendly aura S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to give off, they would always distrust and disregard people with abilities.

Even the best of you, the Maximoff twins, were greeted with raised eyebrows and knives up sleeves instead of open arms. Maybe that was because they were given their powers by HYDRA, but you knew better. It wasn’t the specific organization that bothered S.H.I.E.L.D., it was the fact that they had no way of controlling that much power. The only way S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with superhuman abilities was by either taking them in or taking them out. If they were to find out that you, a high ranking agent with plenty of clearance codes, had powers, they’d kill you. They can’t take risks like that, not with someone like you.

That’s why you never let anyone see the flames darting from your hands and lighting up your eyes. That’s why you wait until you’re alone, in a room with no security cameras, to call up the first few sparks. It hurts to go without using your powers for that long, but the alternative is so much worse. As a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, you’ve had the gruesome pleasure of seeing the labs firsthand. S.H.I.E.L.D. claims that the labs are harmless, only taking in willing participants so that their scientists can learn more about the complex world of those with power and those without. You’ve heard the screams to know that all of this is a lie, that nobody goes to those labs willingly. So, you play the part of the powerless, pretending that you’re a perfectly ordinary person, even if nothing could be further from the truth.

There’s a knock at your door and you snap your hand shut like a compact. When you slowly open your fingers once more, the tendrils of flame are gone. You wave your hand to disperse the last few curling fingers of smoke from the room, then call out to your visitor. “Come in.” A few moments later, a tall, familiarly strapping man enters the room. You smile at him. “Steve Rogers, what a surprise. To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve holds out a hand to you and you take it, standing up from your chair. “Have you forgotten already? We’ve got that debriefing from Cox in a couple of minutes.” You groan. “That’s why you came over? I thought it was something good.” Steve chuckles. “No. I refuse to go alone.” He’s already opening the door, tugging you out into the hallway despite your protests. “I was going anyway, there’s no need to drag me over.” The two of you walk side by side down the corridor, slowly making your way towards the debriefing room. Steve glances over at you, a joking smile on his face. “I know you were, I was just checking in to make sure you weren’t ditching me.”

You pull a face. “You’re a terrible friend.” Steve says nothing, just holds open the door to the debriefing room with a grin. He follows you inside, although the two of you walk to different sides of the room once the door closes behind you. Steve is an Avenger, he’ll sit with Sam, Natasha, and the rest. Despite your years of experience fighting alongside the Avengers, you’re still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and so you slide into a chair next to your coworkers.

A couple of minutes later, a man walks into the room and takes a stance at the front of the room. His hair is slightly too greasy, eyes slightly too cold. You and Steve share a mutual hatred of this man, Edward Cox, and you’re not looking forward to hearing him boss you around for the next hour or so. You suppose that he is technically a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and it’s impossible to rise to his level without shedding all of your morals, but that doesn’t make listening to him speak any easier.

This is especially true today. The mission itself should be fascinating- some twisted soul named Isaiah Crane has taken control of some massive warehouse complex, and he’s filling it with an army of soldiers and weapons. It’s your typical Avengers threat, made more interesting by the fact that Crane is an utter madman. His every move is calculated yet wild, and it’s practically impossible to guess what he’ll do next. His forces have already begun expanding out, displacing and injuring hundreds of civilians, and so the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have been called in.

Cox, however, makes it sound like the dullest training excursion on the planet. “Remember, you’ll get in and get out. Try not to fight amongst yourselves, we’ll have to order you out. We don’t want another Sokovia Accords, do we, folks? Anyways, just take out Crane and his men. Don’t bother with the civilians, they’ll only get in the way.” Across the room, you see Steve straighten up. “What do you mean, don’t bother with the civilians? According to these reports, they’re being rounded up and killed or forced out of their homes. We should be helping them, it’s our job.”

Cox frowns over at Steve, evidently displeased over the interruption. “No, Rogers, you’re here to take down Crane. There’s a difference. Save the petty rescues for the fire department.” You wince slightly at that. It’s like Cox is actively trying to set Steve off. “You’re talking about hundreds of people who are in danger, who we could save in a fraction of the time it would take the local reinforcements. Why shouldn’t we be helping them?” Cox fiddles with the papers in front of him. “Because those are your orders, Rogers. You don’t need the people, just the man. Crane.”

You can see that Steve is seconds away from exploding on the guy, so you raise a hand. Cox turns to you, evidently assuming that you’ll be defending him. You’ve seen how Cox works, he tends to appreciate some sticking to the rules. You can use this against him; if you don’t, he’ll never let you speak in the first place. “Actually, I think Steve is right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Crane tries to use the chaos of the fleeing civilians to protect himself. By getting all of them out of harm’s way, we clear the path to him.”

Cox’s smile fades. “I would have expected a senior officer to understand the basic truths. We can’t save everybody, that’s a dream for the children.” You ignore the jibe. “You cited the Sokovia Accords as an example of things we should be avoiding. The only reason we were able to survive to make those accords in the first place was because of the success of Sokovia itself. The Sokovia incident would have been considered a disaster were it not for the fact that the Avengers were able to save all of the civilians. Yes, they had to battle Ultron, but their main victory was the countless lives saved.”

Cox opens his mouth as if to contradict you, but now Steve sees what you’re saying. “Exactly. Crane is our Ultron right now, but we have to save the people. End of story.” Cox glares at you both, but the rest of the room is nodding in agreement, so he’s forced to drop the matter. For the rest of the debriefing, though, his words come out as spiked weapons that he shoots at you and Steve, vindictive in his rage at being publicly humiliated.

Steve, on the other hand, does not consider this a victory. You can tell that he’s still furious at Cox for so casually throwing away the lives of the civilians, and he strides briskly away from the room the second the debriefing is over. You collect your things and follow him into an empty room. Steve looks up when you close the door behind him, evidently unsurprised to see you. Anger seems to course from his every vein. You forget how he gets sometimes, when he’s let down time and time again by the fools of S.H.I.E.L.D. who think they can toss aside hundreds of lives for a cleaner mission.

Steve’s voice is laced with vitriol. “I can’t believe him. I honestly can’t believe him. How could he go up there and tell us all to let those innocents die? I don’t think he even saw a problem with it.” He begins to pace back and forth, energy seemingly bounding from his every motion. “This entire organization is paved with blood, and they’re the ones holding all the strings. How do you live with yourself, knowing this is happening every day?” The second the words leave his mouth, Steve looks up, regret already beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”

You hold up a hand to stem his apologies. “Yes, you did, and it’s fine. S.H.I.E.L.D. has never had time for the lives it plays with, and you’re right to say it. To be honest, I’m not sure that there is a way to live with the knowledge. You just have to push it aside, because there’s no better way to do what has to be done.” You glance over at him, smiling slightly. “The problem is that you’re Captain America, and everyone expects you to always make the perfect choice no matter what. Perfect choices where everyone ends up alive and well don’t exist, yet if you don’t make that decision, you’re hunted for it. We don’t get happy endings in this line of work, we just have to make do with what we have. Maybe we have to accept the worse choices right now, but we can take steps to make them better.”

Steve nods, and you can tell that he’s beginning to calm down. “That’s the worst part of it. There are so many expectations, and it’s impossible to live up to all of them.” You incline your head in acknowledgement. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before slipping from the room. Even as you walk away, you can still feel your lips burning. For a spy who’s not supposed to get hung up over her emotions, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.

It’s difficult to describe the relationship you have with Steve Rogers. You’ve been enemies, you’ve been friends. You’ve had each other’s backs. There have been nights when alcohol burns like kerosene down your throat, when you spend the night between his sheets and wake up again the next morning to steal away before he wakes. The best way to describe what you have with Steve is that it’s whatever the two of you need at the moment. Maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s more. By uttering a word about it, you’re afraid you’ll shatter those quiet moments and cut the fragile string tying you to him for good.

By the next morning, you’ve forced thoughts of him from your head once more. You’re heading down the landing of the quinjet, gun held at the ready. The steady rattle of gunfire echoes around you, and just like that, the fight to reach Isaiah Crane has begun. You and the rest of the Avengers rush to the civilians, getting them to safety before the inevitable call crackles through your earpiece, announcing that Crane is in the building. This is your one shot at him, you have to make it count.

The group of fighters enters the building, one person for each entrance. You make your way through the twisting halls of the complex, but you never catch sight of him. You come out of a narrow passageway to find yourself suddenly swallowed up by a main room. Across the space, you can see the rest of the Avengers emerging from doors. It looks like you’ve all been led here, trapped in this one space by the elusive Crane. Just as you realize this, the bombs go off and you’re thrown to the ground.

There must have been explosives lining the floor. Dust hangs thick and heavy in the air, and the bombs keep on going off, one after another. A chain reaction, which ends with the ceiling beginning to shake and tumble down. Your eyes are drawn to the thick concrete of the building’s structure, which is just now falling down on top of you. Your legs itch to run, to do something, but there’s nowhere to go. The only thing you can do is hope for the best, which is that this column falling on you won’t entirely shatter you.

Just as you’re preparing yourself for the impact, a figure darts over to you, pulling you to them protectively. You realize it’s Steve, and he flings his shield over your huddled bodies just before the roof caves in. There’s an overwhelming blow, but after a few tense minutes, you realize you’re still alive and relatively unharmed. Slowly, carefully, Steve stands up, and you do too. You stare in shock at the room around you. Columns of concrete have come tumbling down, and the room is in shambles. Rubble and large chunks of the roof have caved in around you, and it’s impossible to see anything farther than a few feet ahead of you.

You reach to your earpiece, turning it on. “This is Agent L/N. Can anyone read me? Over.” You wait a couple of seconds, then repeat your message. There is no response, just the crackling of static. Steve shakes his head. “I’m not getting anything either. I think we’re on our own.” You bite your cheek, thinking. “This was Crane’s plan. He wanted to get us alone.” Steve nods. “I don’t think we have much of a choice about it, though. There’s a way out under the rubble, and I think it goes deeper into the complex. It looks like it’s our only option.”

The two of you duck underneath the piles of debris, skirting around the edges of the room to find the chink in the armor that Steve was talking about. It seems to lead to a broader expanse of hallway, one that wasn’t connected to any doors leading outside. You look down the dimly lit hall, uneasy. “I have a bad feeling about this. This has got to be a trap.” Steve sighs. “I don’t think there’s any way it isn’t a trap. Crane must have set it up- whoever survives the explosives makes it over to him. I hate to say it, but it’s the only thing we can do. At least we can finish this.”

You nod, and the two of you begin walking down the hallway. You keep your eyes open and alert for any threats, any new explosives or ambushes, but there’s nothing there. At last, the hallway opens up into a seemingly empty room. You and Steve look at each other, and you see your same apprehension reflected on his face. Steve holds out an arm to stop you from walking any further. He speaks quietly, mouth an inch or two away from your ear. “Stay back here. I’ll go in alone, you’ll watch my back. If Crane thinks he’s going to be holding all the cards, I want at least one ace up my sleeve.”

You nod slowly. “Be careful.” Steve smirks. “Always am.” With that, he slings his shield off of his shoulder, holding it out in front of him like the knights of old. You watch as he disappears around the corner, footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling. There’s a noise from across the room, barely noticeable. Steve, of course, is used to doing the impossible and his head turns towards the sound. He strides further into the room, investigating the sudden sound. He is slowly swallowed up by the shadows of the room, and you squint as your eyes adjust to the darkness.

At first, you think you’re just making things up. Then, the slight movement comes again, strengthening as it passes close by the lights of the hall. You take a slow, silent step forward and your eyes widen as you see the figure drawing close to Steve. The silhouette has its back to you, and you creep out of the hall and into the room, curious. With a chill, you realize that this is Crane, and he’s about to attack Steve, who has no idea that the enemy he’s been tracking is right behind him. Steve is still walking through the room, completely unaware of the man about to kill him. Crane raises his arm, a gun in his hand. You can see a demented grin on Crane’s face as he aims at Steve’s skull. His finger pauses on the trigger.

You don’t think, not at all. Before you know it, your arm is raised, a swarm of fire billowing out of your hand and engulfing Crane whole. It knocks him over, a shriek of pain issuing from his mouth as the gun misfires. Steve whirls around and sees Crane at last, but it doesn’t matter. The man is out cold, burns blossoming in a sickening shine all over his body. He won’t wake up for a while, and when he does, he’ll be in so much pain that he’ll barely be able to stand, let alone try to kill Steve once more.

This means that Steve’s eyes are moving up, from Crane to you. You watch as the understanding dawns in his eyes, as he looks between the flames still dying out on the ground around Crane to your outstretched hand. Once again, your mind goes silent and you don’t think, just act. You’ve felt fear before, the terrifying, bone-chilling fear that you are about to die. You’ve known the terror of facing down impossible odds in a mission that was doomed from the start. All of those are manageable, but this right here? This suffocating knowledge that you’re about to experience the worst agony of your life, that Steve is going to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about your powers and you’re going to be sent to those accursed labs, this is the most petrifying fear you have ever known.

You turn and run, heels flashing down the hall. You don’t know why you’re sprinting down the corridor, why this will make a difference. All you know is that you have to get away, you have to leave before the truth comes to light. Yet you forget that Steve is a super soldier, someone who can outpace anyone in a heartbeat. Within seconds, he’s catching up to you, and then his arm is reaching out and grabbing yours, stopping you in your tracks. He pulls you over to the side of the hall, your back up against the wall. He stares at you, and you stare at him.

Steve is the first to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers? Why did you run?” The words bubble out of you, a torrent of terror. “They’re going to kill me. S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re going to bring me to those labs and take me apart over and over again. Just kill me now, it’ll be faster.” Steve shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to let them do that.” A laugh, bitter and jaded and cold, flies from your throat. “You don’t have a choice. None of us do.”

Steve’s face is set, eyes determined. “There are no functioning security cameras in this building, not after that explosion. We’re going to say that Crane got caught by his own bombs, and that’s why he was burned. We’re not going to say anything about you, because you were with me and no one else knows.” You stare at Steve mutely as he continues speaking. “There’s no way S.H.I.E.L.D. could know unless we tell them, and we’re not. You’ll be safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” You feel like the ground has been ripped away from underneath you. “Why would you do that? If they find out, they could take everything away from you. There’s no good reason to risk your job, your life, for what, someone you kiss a couple times a month? They’ll come after you.”

Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your waist, and you’re finding it difficult to think straight. “I left the Avengers and broke them apart because I wanted to protect my best friend. If S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to hurt you, someone I care about more than anyone? I would burn them all to the ground.” He flashes a sudden smile. “Although I’d appreciate it if you were there with me. You make a pretty good firestarter.” You laugh quietly in spite of yourself. “I’ll be there. Even without this whole mess. I don’t think I could leave you if I tried.”

Steve nods, his eyes filling with a sudden warmth. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for a long time.” He leans forward and kisses you. It’s strange- you’ve kissed Steve many times, and probably a few other than those that you’ve forgotten. Yet you don’t think he’s ever kissed you like this, with the smile and the trust that you two will stay together, no matter what. He is kissing you like he loves you, and you feel the exact same way.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #captain america #captain america imagines #captain america x reader #captain america oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot

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nick-thecreator · 3 years

Text

Aftermath Revival: Human AU Part 2

Part 1 is right Here

Part 3 is right Here

“Yeah, it’s me, Doctor Moreau. Do you remember me?” He asked. She stood in silence for a second before stepping a bit closer. “What the FUCK are you two doing?” Angie asked, making the two turn to her, Donna taking her hand off of his face, his hand going back down to his side. She folded her arms, clearly irritated. “That’s what I was wondering,” Karl added, confused as all hell. Alcina didn’t say anything, rather deciding to walk out. “Where’re you going?” “Let’s give them some privacy.” Karl started to laugh as Donna and Salvatore fell silent. She rolled her eyes, walking out back to The Duke’s shop. Angie went over to Donna as Karl looked back to them, walking to the other side of the table. “So…” He stood in silence for a second, letting a layer of awkwardness settle over the room. “You two have history?” He asked, still trying to compute what was going on. “Yeah, we do, but I think Donna might be having some memory issues,” Salvatore replied. His voice was much clearer than before, maybe because of the lack of fishness. Donna looked back up at Salvatore, tilting her head a bit. “You don’t think so?” Karl asked Donna. “I… I think so, I just don’t remember much…” She whispered, her hand had moved from his face to his shoulder. He took her hand off of his shoulder, holding her hand in his. “I’m assuming we need to clear some things up, huh?” He smiled. “I mean, I don’t remember much as… you know…, and it seems that there are some issues with memory, huh?” Donna nodded, Angie clinging to her dress. “So, are you going to spill, or no?” Angie asked.

“Karl? Donna? Angie? Are you all alright in there?” The Duke asked from outside, having pulled over to the side of the clinic so he could be closer to them. “Yeah, we’re fine Duke,” Karl replied, yelling out to the direction of the door before turning back to them. “We should probably go.” “Why?” Salvatore asked. “The “too long, didn’t listen’, Rosa, a baby, Ethan Winters, her father, everyone got smacked up, Ethan didn’t team up with me, a fucking army showed up, Mother Miranda is dead-” “Really?!” Salvatore interrupted him, his eyes going wide, a small smile forming on his face. “Yeah…” Karl answered, confused by Salvatore’s reaction. “Anyway, there was a bomb after she died, so, yeah.” “Huh, seems like the details would be interesting to hear,” He replied. “Anyway, I should probably grab some stuff before going.” Karl just nodded, before walking towards the door. “I’ll be outside, waiting, alright?” Salvatore and Donna just nodded as Karl walked out. Salvatore looked around the room, picking up a bag before walking over to one of the cluttered tables, going through the papers and boxes underneath the table. He did find a shirt in one of the boxes, so he threw it on, surprised that it fitted him. Donna just stood back a bit as Angie looked over his shoulder, trying to see what he was doing. “So, Donna, anything new in your department?” he asked, trying to make conversation. “Besides Angie, of course.” “Well-” “A WHOLE lot,” Angie interrupted. Donna went silent again. “Angie?” “Huh?” “Did I ask you?” “Um… no?” “Then let her speak, alright?” “BUT SHE NEEDS ME!” Angie shouted. Salvatore got everything he needed from his desk, standing up from the floor. “I understand, but-” He gestured to Donna, looking at Angie. “It’s healthy for her to do so.” He looked over to Donna, smiling. “Donna? You’ve spoken to me before, remember?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, lifting his hand up a bit, wanting to place it on her shoulder, but he didn’t want to startle her either. She stepped a bit closer. “You know it's safe to talk to me, right? You’re safe with me, alright?” His tone had shifted, his eyes seeming to shine. She noticed, somewhat recognizing his tone. The memory was faint, but still there. It was of him a long while ago. He sat next to her in his office, his hand on her face, speaking in the same tone after she had had a panic attack from an interaction with Mother Miranda. Her posture relaxed, putting her hand over his as she nodded. He smiled, clearing up her memory more, being able to remember the slight smile that he would give her when he would assure her that she was safe. She smiled under her face covering, unconsciously moving his hand from her shoulder to her face, over the fabric, of course. “Are you doing well under there?” He chuckled. “Mh hm.” She replied. Angie’s mouth fell open. She had never seen Donna so… comfortable with someone, nevermind someone like Salvatore Moreau, of all people. “I’m okay.” “That’s good. Anything new?” “A book-full.” “I’d love to hear it.” “Guys?” Karl asked, peaking through the doorway. They looked over to him as Angie ran over to Donna, pulling on her dress to get Donna to pick her up. She did so, taking her hand off of Salvatore’s hand as he pulled his hand back to his side, adjusting his bag. “Y’all ready?” “I believe so,” Salvatore replied, Donna nodding while facing Karl. “Come out with the rest of us then. Y’all are holding us up.” “Sorry…” He walked towards the door, Donna right behind him. “You aren’t bringing your coat?” Karl gestured to his large coat on the floor. “Hell no.” He walked out of the clinic with Donna and Angie, The Duke looking over to them. “My my, Lord Moreau, you certainly look better than expected,” The Duke commented, chuckling. “Thank you sir,” Salvatore replied. “So, where are we going?” “Somewhere safe, that’s all I know. I’m not sure exactly where though…” The Duke thought for a bit, looking around. “We could… we could…” He drew a blank as The Lords waited for his answer. “No idea, huh?” Karl asked. “Yes, unfortunately.” “Maybe the factory is still intact?” “I’m not bringing my girls to your shithole!” Alcina replied, holding onto Cassandra closely. “Fine, well…” “What about the church?” Donna suggested. “No, it was blown up,” The Duke replied. They stayed there for a few minutes, hoping that at least one of them would have a good idea. “How about we just go around the village? We could find some place that isn’t going to collapse into itself.” The Lords looked amongst themselves, nodding in agreement, for once. “Sounds good,” Salvatore replied, before stepping back in pain, his hand going to his forehead. He leaned over, clenching his teeth. “STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!” He stomped on the ground, hoping that the pain from stomping his bare foot on the rocks and dirt would be rid of his nuisance. Everyone jumped back, startled. The Duke raised a hand to his face. “Oh my, my lord, are you al-” Salvatore let out a scream before going silent, his head hanging as he lightly, yet tiredly breathed. “My lord?” Salvatore looked up at him slowly. “I’m sorry sir, just some personal issues.” “Seems like more than that. You sure?” “Yeah, sorry.” He went silent again, holding onto his arms, embarrassed. The others slowly relaxed after his outburst. “Anyway, let’s go with your plan Duke,” Karl said, trying to break the newly formed ice. “Anyone want to sit on the side?” Donna nodded, going over to the shop, sitting on the side of the shop. Alcina also took the offer, sitting on the other side. “My lord, you should sit too. You seem quite tired.” “That would be nice, thank you,” Salvatore replied, sitting next to Donna. Angie had taken up Donna’s lap, holding onto Donna’s sleeve. Karl didn’t want to sit this time, preferring to walk beside the shop. They started to go around the village, its large size making for quite a trip. Alcina was too busy with her daughters to give a damn about the others. Salvatore and Donna were making small talk, with Angie butting every now and then. Karl, on the other hand, was testing his powers to see how much they had weakened. His powers had weakened substantially, the heaviest thing he could lift up was a large, metal caldron pot, only being able to lift it a few feet off of the ground, straining himself after a while of holding it up. He sighed, wishing he still had his old powers, but, since he did have some of his powers left, he wasn’t that mad. After a long while, Karl looked over to Donna and Salvatore, seeing how they talked to each other. She wasn’t even using Angie to talk, surprising Karl. He walked a bit closer to them, trying to hear over their conversation to see if he could fit in a question. All they were talking about was what had happened after Ethan had showed up to the village, and, to be fair, that was the most interesting thing that had happened recently. Eventually, Donna told Salvatore what The Duke had told her, Alcina, and Karl about how Ethan had taken down Mother Miranda, and Salvatore’s reaction was like how it was before, with a wide grin. “Hey Sal?” Karl asked. Salvatore, Angie, and Donna turned their heads to face him. “Yeah?” Salvatore replied. “What’s the deal man?” “Huh?” “You're smiling, over MOTHER MIRANDA’S DEATH,” He pointed out, emphasizing the main part. “And the issue is?” Salvatore didn’t fully understand Karl’s issue, having been told about Karl’s seething hatred towards her. He thought he’d be happy to know another lord agreed with him. “It isn’t much of an issue, but, ya know, you kinda were her… um…” He tried to find a good word that would describe how Moreau acted with Mother Miranda. “‘Lap Dog’?” “Kinda? More like ‘Floor Dog’, but in a similar tone as a Lap Dog.” “Makes sense…” Salvatore went silent for a second. “So?” “So… what?” “What’s with the change?” “What change- Oh!” His eyes went wide, realizing what he fully meant. He laughed for a second, leaving Karl confused for that time. “What’s so funny?” “I didn’t change… Consciously, per say,” He clarified. “How!?” Karl asked, even more confused than before. Donna and Angie were also confused, but just assumed that Karl had their questions covered. “That makes no fucking-” “You remember Eva, right?” “...Yeah?” “Remember how Miranda wanted to bring her back?” “Yeah, she wanted a host to put her consciousness into.” “And where was her consciousness stored?” “The Megamycete.” “And what was Miranda getting from the Megamycete?” “Cadous?” “Yes, and what was put into us?” “Cadou…” Karl paused for a second. “So… you were like Eva?” “Kind of, not fully. Miranda did have some manipulation over it-” “Wait wait wait, slow down. What the fuck are you talking about?” “Yeah!” Angie butted in, standing up, getting into Salvatore’s face. “What’s you’re fucking deal! You just appear, then you have all the fucking answers!” “Angie, stop,” Donna tried to quiet her down. “No! What’s your deal!? With Mother!? With Donna!? With all this shit!?” Donna put her hand over Angie’s mouth, which made Angie grumbled loudly, sitting back down on her lap. “I… guess people want answers…” Salvatore muttered out, trying to calm down the situation without getting yelled at more. “That would be nice to hear, if you may,” The Duke replied, having heard the whole conversation. “This’ll be good,” Karl added. Salvatore looked over to Donna. She nodded in agreement, wanting to clear up the gaps in her memory. “What about you Alcina?” “I…” She ran her fingers over the sculpture of Bela. “I’m good.” “Alright, take it away my lord,” The Duke said, smiling. “Alrightly then, I’ll start with the earliest stuff I have...”

#resident evil village #residentevil #residentevil8 #theduke #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #moreau #resident evil human au #resident evil 8 human au #resident evil village human au #human au #au #fanfiction #nick the creator #aaaaaa

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

So. Thanks to my new anonymous friend, this is going to become a thing.

Shae’s thinky thoughts about the latest episode--Acheron: Part 2--beneath a cut.

Because spoilers, however vague they might be.

Let’s be real here. This is more a stream of consciousness than anything else so if that’s not your thing, you are most welcome to nope right on out of this post. Trust me. I’ll completely understand, lol. Sometimes? I wish I could nope right on out of my own brain and the way it operates.

That said? Without further ado--

Episode 2′s opening, though. Maggie trapped with hungry Walkers converging? It totally gives me Glenn under the dumpster vibes. I don’t know if that was intentional or just happy coincidence but way to link Maggie to her dearly departed better half, show.

Is it just me or has Father G had more OOMPH to him these last few seasons? Again, I have to ask--Rosita’s influence or no? Regardless, I bet Seth Gilliam is loving the job these days.

Side note: am I gonna have to go to bed early every Saturday night from now until the end just so I that I might be able to SEE? Something? Anything? My curtains are flimsy-ass. I admit it. But this is more frustrating than TXF. Angela, WTF?

No, seriously. It’s like complete guess work who’s in these subway scenes. Some of that has to do with them being overly populated by redshirts and the rest of it has to do with me having to squint and turn sideways to make out their facial features.

Look at Daryl busting through concrete walls! Should I call him the Kool-Aid Man considering NR has once again allowed himself to be led right into a biased, shipper trap? Hmm. I might.

Imagine seeking refuge in those dark, filthy subways. Any second now I expect to hear the skittering of rats. Will Dog lose his effing mind a la Divergence? He’s been shown to go off half-cocked that way, lol. Oh well. Guess it’ll be in character if he does.

Impressive graffiti storyboards. Does it mean something that it immediately cuts to the Commonwealth storm troopers afterward? Maybe. Who really knows at this point? They been trying to gaslight us forever.

LOL at Princess yet again. Yumiko is just like da fuq is this person?

No, really. LMAO. “That was her. From last night. Did you see how she was looking at us?”

Then you have Eugene, hahaha. “Oh God. Why did he tell off the big guy?” Like the man is totally me in this type of situation. Not even gonna lie.

“That’s right. We want to talk to the manager.”

I literally cannot wait ‘til Carol and Daryl meet Princess. Can. Not. Wait.

How sad is that note on that $100 bill? Small moment but it totally gives me Season 4 vibes when they were on their way to Terminus seeking sanctuary.

Hmm. Remember how that place wasn’t what they thought it was? I’m sure neither is the Commonwealth. But I feel like what’s left of Team Family is totally going to do Rick proud, lol, and prove they’re messing with the wrong people if they try something.

Daryl, Man. You gonna have to get a better handle on your headstrong Fur Son. I wonder if Dog would listen better to his mama? Things to ponder.

Sounds like Miko has this group’s number. Or does she?

Princess and Eugene totally look like they’re waiting their turn for the Principal’s office, LOL.

“Stop moving! You’re taking my nerves over the edge to a proverbial 11 on a scale of 10.” I feel you, Eugene. I do. Also you, Princess. Two of the most relatable TWD characters right there, I’m telling you.

Princess is me when I really, really, really have to pee. TMI? Sorry, lovelies. LOL. I just...she’s so relatable.

LMAO. “If that fine ass dude in the orange suit...” Princess and Mercer incoming in 3-2-----

Princess’s excitement over the toilet paper=PRICELESS.

Eugene, Man. You desperately need to develop a poker face.

There’s Daryl getting another cool camera shot. Angela? You playing favorites again?

Carol’s claustrophobia could have never. I bet that’s in the back of Pookie’s mind. You can’t tell me it’s not because Carol lives in there rent-free.

Ohhh. Back to the subway car. Looks like we got the Maggie redshirts leading the way. First sacrificial “lambs”?

Maggie pistol-whipping Negan was kinda deserved, but he wasn’t all wrong so.

Damn. I’m no Gage fan. He can fuck all the way off for what he did to my baby Lydia. But Maggie over there with ice in her veins.

Yep. I think the dude just got one of the most gruesome deaths in a while. Yuck.

I think Alden’s faith in Maggie definitely took several hits. I feel like he kind of had her on some sort of pedestal dating back to Hilltop times. Father G, though? The man is continuing to show himself a SAVAGE MFer.

Josh gives Eugene such believable tics and mannerisms. He IS Eugene.

Thank you, Maggie, for lighting that flare. I could not see a damn thing.

What are these bad memories Negan alludes to? Hmm? Him being a shit husband to Lucille back when he was still taking her for granted?

Father G on Gage’s Walker--”All that is, is a shell of a man, who died a coward.” Kind of ironic considering Father G’s own origins, huh? Has he any warmth in there for anybody but Rosita and Coco? Does he equate it with weakness?

“There are worse ways.” And Maggie proceeds to paint us a horror story with mere words.

Dark Maggie really surpasses anything certain fans have ever accused Carol of being. Is she too far gone? Who the hell knows? I think it’s clear that she and Carol are both on a sliding scale of sorts when it comes to being able to compartmentalize shit to survive. Personally? I feel like Maggie might have leap-frogged Carol in this episode but it matters none because of the double standards so deeply entrenched in this fandom. Both women have endured and had to do some horrific things. It’s not a contest. But it’s probably going to be turned into a season-long one.

It’s almost like Kang was like, “Ya’ll bitches think Carol’s dark? I’ll show you DARK. Check and mate.”

Whatever the reasoning, Maggie just got exponentially more interesting to me if not likable. And before anybody out there comes at me, it’s entirely possible to be on a character’s side in some things and not be all up their ass in love with them, lol. Like I’m attached to her because she’s family and Glenn loved her. There’s a loyalty there and she absolutely is justified in her hatred of Negan. But I’m not going to pretend her shit don’t stink like everybody else’s.

Speaking of my baby Glenn. What would he think of this version of Maggie? I think he would be gutted and heart stricken that events led to her being like this but he’d understand because he’s pure like that. Don’t mean he’d be A-OK with it all.

Dog must be protected at all costs.

Confession. I know not the fuck who Pony Boy is, but I know him because all my fandom friends have pointed him out to me, lol. RIP, Man. I think you’re number’s up or close to it.

Okay, though. I admit it. I am kinda LOVING Badass Father G.

That scene in the subway car with all of them working to take all the Walkers out was already badass. Then Daryl arrived and made it, in @freefromthecocoon’s words, HAWT. LOL.

Eugene staring at that little black book like it contains torture tools, hehehe.

“Processed? As in administratively? Processed as in bologna or other meat stuffs? This inquiring (enquiring?) mind needs to know.” OMG, Eugene. I admit it. Even if it makes me look like a lunatic, LOL. I straight up LMAO at that one. I mean, ten years later and Terminus still fresh on the man’s mind.

“You like feeling nervous?” Well, no. None of us that do, Mercer? Do.

Then he proceeds to make me howl with his “You can’t lie for shit” to Eugene.

Josh McDermitt? I love you, Man. 40 year old virgin, LOL.

All this talk over the seasons of Daryl’s virginity and we have Eugene, hahaha. But was he telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Finally. Some daylight. Where I can see.

Eugene’s relief at seeing his friends safe and sound was such a beautiful thing to see. I loved those hugs.

Mercer’s face when he snarled “beat cop” in disdain to Ezekiel. I think I’m gonna love this dude.

“I went to West Point. Asshole.” Yeah. I am.

I know they probably catfishing Eugene right here because spoilers tell us that ain’t Stephanie. But my heart still did a little d’aww. Angela. Don’t play with his poor heart like that.

What’s got Daryl so pensive, huh? Is it that the note reminds him of kids being lost or taken from their family? Or separated from their family? Is he thinking of those Grimes babies and wondering if Michonne will ever make it back and why and how she was able to leave them behind? Tell me it ain’t that Find Me nonsense.

“This place sure has gone to shit since the last time I was here.” LMAO, JDM. I mean Negan. Sorry. Sorry. I still hate Negan, but JDM has me entertained at least since they gave the asshole some shades of gray. And speaking of shades of gray. I’m loving the gray beard. JDM’s looking GOOD (hear that NR? Embrace the gray). Negan can still kick rocks, lol.

Anyway. That scene was CREEPY AF. Not even gonna lie.

The Reapers strutting right on up to our group like it’s The Purge: ZA.

My bad, Pony Boy. Now RIP.

Dark, dark episode with loads of tension broken up by some welcome humor by Princess. The girl is fast becoming a fave of mine.

My baby’s back next week!!!

I’m just going to plug my ears and pretend they’re trying to capture/recapture the horses because they’re pets. Not because they’re starving so bad they feel the need to eat them. La la la la la. I can’t hear you.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Idk if you doing requests or not rn buut, feriowind has been posting a bunch of vampire!Hermann and I needs some modern vampire Hermann and professor Newt...

uwu ily

SO I feel like I should open by saying a WIP fic with this concept by @coloredpencilroses exists and I Love it, so read High Stakes for something much better than this lol (and leave a nice comment). HAPPY OCTOBER!!!! warning for very mildly implied sexy stuff. EDIT: and of COURSE I forgot to tag @theloccent for my extremely belated fill for the “Vampire” square on my bingo card :/

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

Newt has always been an extremely persistent type. He considers it, naturally, one his greatest strengths—no theory goes untested, no question goes unanswered, no experiment goes…well, unexperimented. You don’t get more PhDs than you can count on one hand if you’re not persistent. You don’t get a date with the hot new engineering professor down the hall if you’re not persistent, either, but Newt is finding this venture is taking a little more effort than usual. That’s fine, though. He likes challenges.

Dr. Gottlieb was hired by the university at the start of the semester, after the head of the engineering department—who’s nearing her seventies—finally decided she’d had enough and announced her retirement somewhat last minute. He is, frankly, unlike anyone Newt’s ever seen before, a weird combination of cheekbones, wide lips, and a turn-of-the-century old-fashioned air that carries over into everything from his wardrobe to the stiff way he carries himself. He wouldn’t look out of place in a black and white photograph, Newt thinks. Or maybe even the illustrations of a Dickens novel. That’s not why Newt’s into him, though—well, not the only reason why.

In the entire month and a half Gottlieb’s been here, he hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone his contract doesn’t require him to; when he is forced into conversation, he scowls and snaps and mumbles his way through before making a polite excuse as to why he needs to leave the room right now, immediately. No one knows anything about him other than the bare minimum—that his name is Dr. Gottlieb, he lectures in engineering, and he exists. Shit, Newt doesn’t even know his first name. The little plaque outside his office just says Gottlieb.

The mystery just makes Gottlieb all the more alluring to Newt.

Anyway, his continued failures in winning Gottlieb over aren’t a result of a lack of trying. On Gottlieb’s first day, Newt stopped by his office to introduce himself. He didn’t bother knocking. Maybe that was his first mistake. “I’m Newt,” he said. “My office is a few doors down from you. You’re the new department head?”

Gottlieb looked stricken, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said. He didn’t say anything else.

“Cool,” Newt said. “Anyway, I’m technically in the bio department, but I teach a few interdisciplinary courses with engineering, so I requested they stick me over here to get a bigger office.” He cracked a grin. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb said.

Newt tried again the next day.

“Your office is so dark,” he said, conversationally, because it was—lights all off, books stacked up everywhere, maroon drapes drawn tightly in front of the single small window. Dark and stuffy. “Feel free to stop by my office whenever you want a break from it. I have a corner one, so I have two windows.”

“I requested this office,” Gottlieb said, not looking up the article he was marking up.

Newt became desperate by his third attempt and did something that’s left him burning with shame even now, weeks later, and that would probably warrant the immediate transfers of sleep-deprived engineering majors out of all his courses if word ever got out it was him: he deliberately broke the department coffee machine. “Man, I can’t believe that thing is busted again,” he declared to Gottlieb. “Good thing I have a Keurig in my office.” Newt had gone out and purchased a Keurig immediately before destroying the coffee pot. “Seriously, come by whenever you need caffeine.”

Gottlieb blinked at him, long and slow, and Newt had the strangest sense that he knew exactly what happened to the coffee pot. “I never drink… coffee,” Gottlieb finally said.

For all Newt’s troubles, the list of things he knows about Gottlieb has expanded by two pitiful points: that his accent is English and posh, and his voice is low and sexy. Helpful.

It’s a chilly day in late October when Newt finally decides to enlist the aid of his interdisciplinary undergrads. Some of them—he learned after poking around their registration records—have a seminar with Gottlieb, and they seem his best bet at learning anything. A spouse—a first name—Newt would take Gottlieb’s favorite color, even. “So,” he starts class, unwinding his scarf off his neck, “that Dr. Gottlieb sure is weird, huh?”

In Newt’s firsthand experience, undergrads love to gossip about their professors, and his certainly don’t disappoint. Gottlieb’s classes are all held in the basement of the engineering building. All run well into the evening, after the sun’s set—most not finished until nine—and Gottlieb hustles out of the lecture hall the moment he can. He walks with a cane and a slight limp. He always dresses like that. He’s never mentioned any sort of family, and wears no wedding ring. He’s scary good at math. No one knows his first name.

“You’ve been an invaluable help,” Newt tells them all seriously.

He mulls the new information over in his office later as he grades some tests. So Gottlieb is a bit of shy, reclusive, genius. No surprise there. Well, his apparent hatred of sunlight is kind of weird (if unsurprising, given how pale he is) but maybe he just has sensitive eyes or something. Who is Newt to judge? At least he knows how to improve his next plan of attack—he just has to ask the guy to come over and sit in a dark room in silence with him. That’s probably Gottlieb’s dream date, actually.

There’s a knock on Newt’s office door. Newt looks up and drops his pen: it’s Gottlieb.

“Uh. Hey, dude!” he squeaks, unsure of how to proceed in this entirely unfamiliar territory. Gottlieb, willingly interacting with him? Willingly leaving his office? “Is there…can I help you with something? Did you want that coffee after all?”

“Most definitely not,” Gottlieb says coolly. He’s standing far enough back from the door that not a single sliver of lamp light from Newt’s office hits him, instead shrouded by the shadows of the dark engineering department. Newt didn’t realize how late it had gotten. “My students informed me that you were interrogating them about me.”

It’s not a question. Newt is struck by a wave of nervousness that he doesn’t quite understand—maybe it’s the sour expression Gottlieb is giving him, something in those dark brown eyes that are piercing through Newt. He feels, foolishly and briefly, like cowering under his desk. He swallows. “Yes,” he says, and adds, stammering, “I mean—I wasn’t interrogating them. I was just asking a few questions.”

“Why?” Gottlieb says.

“Uh,” Newt says. “I guess I was…curious, about you?”

He works up the guts to look Gottlieb in the eyes; he sees Gottlieb’s eyebrows jump the tiniest fraction of an inch. “You’re attracted to me,” Gottlieb says, another non-question, though Newt hears a flicker of surprise.

“Yeah,” Newt admits.

“I see,” Gottlieb says. Then, to Newt’s surprise, he suddenly smiles. “I’d like if you invited me over for dinner, Dr. Geiszler.”

“Dinner,” Newt says. He feels strangely dizzy; but, shaking himself, he quickly gets over it. “I mean, dinner! Yes! Shit! When?”

“Tonight, I should think,” Hermann says.

Tonight is Friday, which means they don’t have work tomorrow. By the time they make it off campus it’ll be almost ten—way later than people eat dinner—and besides, Newt already had a sandwich at around seven. Is dinner a euphemism? Is Gottlieb propositioning him? God, why didn’t he wash his sheets with the laundry this week? “Tonight,” Newt says. He stands up abruptly and grabs his leather jacket with trembling fingers. Why is he trembling? Nerves, he guesses. He’s about to hook up with total hottie Dr. Gottlieb, he’s allowed to be nervous. “Fuck yes. Let’s go now.”

Gottlieb is not impressed with the messy state of Newt’s apartment, and even less impressed with the state of Newt’s refrigerator and freezer. “Dinosaur chicken nuggets and canned Lime-A-Ritas,” he says with a sniff. “Hm. You ought to be getting more vitamins, Dr. Geiszler. I’m certain you’re deficient in something.”

“You sound like my dad,” Newt snorts. He throws his car keys on the counter and shrugs off his jacket. “There’s some leftover Chinese on the second shelf if you want it—just some lo mein. Or I could put a frozen pizza in the oven. Or I guess we could order something too?”

Gottlieb shuts the fridge door delicately. “How kind of you to offer,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he means it. Newt is suddenly struck by how bizarre a sight he is in the midst of Newt’s chaotic kitchen: buttoned up to the throat with his stupid shirt and blazer, prodding at the fraying lime lizard-shaped rug by the sink with the end of his ornately-handled cane. Out of time and out of place.

“It’s Newt,” Newt says. “Please don’t call me Dr. Geiszler, it makes me feel ancient.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb says.

“And what,” Newt says, deciding to test his luck a little, “uh—what should I call you?”

Gottlieb considers him. “Hermann,” he says.

The name rings a bell in the back of Newt’s head. He swears he’s heard it somewhere before—an article, maybe. A book. Has he stumbled across Dr. Gottlieb’s research before without even realizing it? He’s on the verge of asking what publications Gottlieb’s been featured in when Gottlieb suddenly snags hold of his hand; then, raising it to his mouth, he kisses it. His lips are as cold as his skin. “Would you like to show me to your quarters, Newton?” he murmurs.

Newt shivers; he nods.

“Hermann Gottlieb,” Newt says aloud later, while Hermann redresses himself. “Now I know where I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yes?” Hermann says. He’s lacing up one of his Oxfords.

“I worked with his research in one of my dissertations,” Newt says. “Another Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, I mean. He was a brilliant mathematician from—God, 1830-something. German. His work was groundbreaking for the time, or shit, for our time, too.” He remembers seeing a portrait of that Hermann Gottlieb in one of his sources; the whole of the similarities between him and Newt’s Hermann Gottlieb (the dark eyes, the mouth, the cheekbones) are a little too much to be entirely coincidental. “You must be related to him, right? Like, he’s your great-great-great—”

“Yes,” Hermann cuts him off quickly. He turns to Newt and smiles. “A distant ancestor, certainly. I believe you are the first in some time to have made that connection.”

“Always thought he was cool,” Newt yawns. “Man, I’m tired.” The romp with Hermann had been fun, if not unexpectedly exhausting, and a little…out of the ordinary. The dude apparently has some sort of weird biting kink that left Newt’s neck stinging a little bit, but it’s cool, Newt doesn’t mind. It was like boning a vampire or something. Kinda hot. “Do you need me to show you to the door, or can I just stay here? I’m serious about spending the night though. I really don’t mind.”

Hermann fiddles with the laces of his other shoe, then, slowly, draws the whole thing back off. “If it’s not an imposition,” he says, and smiles again, shyly. “Though, I warn you—I’m a bit of a late sleeper.”

“Good, so I am,” Newt says. “Could you toss me the sweatshirt hanging on that chair? You can grab one for yourself too, if you’re cold, I’ve got another hanging in the closet. No, not--yeah, that door.”

They dip under the covers and get cozy, Newt taking on the task of big spoon, because Hermann is a cold sonofabitch and could use a little insulation. The last thought on his mind before he drifts off to a comfortable sleep is how strange it is he can’t feel Hermann’s heartbeat—though, he realizes, it’s probably just muffled by their clothing.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Text

HOSTIS, Chapter XIX: Rosa, Rose

Previous Chapter (XVIII: Renuntiatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): drama, FLUFF fucking finally and light smut

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“you’ve been trying to get rid of me for 10 years... and look where that got us?”

the crack that you could’ve imagined splitting the sky into pieces was short-lived, but it stirred you in your sleep, nonetheless.

bright, white light flashes through your opening lids but your body takes too long to prepare itself for the loud, vehement clap.

it sounded like someone had just thrown a bomb into the clouds.

you cower in fear at the call of mother nature, hands flying up to your ears as you push your head further into the pillow. there was some hint of sunlight spilling into the room, but that was the least of your concerns when the sky was trying to kill you.

a gentle, but firm force on your hips nearly warrants a harsh whack behind you if your hands weren’t preoccupied with covering your ears.

“stop being such a wuss,” barely opened eyes stirred under his lids, a left arm circling your waist as he pulls you closer to his chest. warmth was radiating off him as if the blanket you were nearly fully covered by wasn’t already keeping you safe from the outside world. “nothing’s going to happen to you, not while you’re here, at least.”

“ew, gro--”

clap

mother nature literally screams at you to shut up, forcing you to ball up further into his skin. his hold around you tightens, and he pulls your right leg up over his hip, palm resting flat and soft on your thigh.

“as much as i love to see you scared shitless, it sucks to know that i don’t ever want to see you scared like this alone.”

the words run through your hair and you now notice your hands were balled up into fists against his chest, his light breathing brushing against the little strands that fell over your forehead like little curtains.

“so be like this only with me, and you won’t have to be scared anymore.”

the skies refuse to let up and zeus hurls another lightning bolt down to earth, yet the orchestral accompaniment doesn’t faze you that much anymore, not after what he said.

not when it’s completely reduced your hatred for him into nothing but ashes. ashes and dust that fly away in the gentle wind.

what were the ten years for, if both areses were going to tread on it like it wasn’t the most dangerous thing to do?

what did the ten years of fighting do, if zeus meant for the two gods of war to round a circle in the ring of fire, only to put down their swords and admit defeat?

not to the fear of death, not to the lack of fight left in them.

but to surrender to one another.

where there were once thorns and daggers and poison now bloomed pansies, flowers that grow in winter; in harsh environments.

have you seen pansies in winter?

white on purple draws a striking, degrading memory in the little crooks and crannies of your mind.

for ten years, you’ve avoided drinking poison, or going anywhere near it, in fact. in the process, becoming poison yourself. it would’ve been like two pythons in a death match to see who could bite the other first.

yet, all of that was now of no value to you.

sure, you’ve lost ten years trying to fight a losing war; the entire duration worried that you would lose to he who would triumph had you chosen to take a step back.

but the very fact that nobody lost wears through you like tires on asphalt.

the notion that both sides took turns destroying each other only to fall in love, becomes the very cure for the tumor in your heart.

why did it take so long for you to realise that you hurt when you couldn’t read him? when he stayed so far away from you, breath on your skin but never touching you. eyes always glued to you, yet never soulful enough for your stomach to churn.

the very sight of him being away from you made you physically unwell.

so this was it.

he has claimed you and he has given himself to you.

zeus has failed in his plan to make the two of you fight to your deaths, but he smiles with pride and glory when he decides that ares’ happiness was more important than spilling blood and ripping flesh off bones.

but that was zeus, and you are ares.

ares is brutal.

and you would’ve not hesitated to rip her flesh off HER bones if you weren’t in a white coat and a doctor’s ID card was hanging around your neck like a dog tag.

“no, you’re joking!”

choi minhee was bright, pretty, cream-colored, and had a disgustingly white set of teeth looking like headlights on a fucking truck.

you?

you were poison, daggers, the thorns on roses.

of all doctors to be assigned to her father, it just had to be hyunjae?

mrs kang was rather entertained with the conversation that was happening in the other corner of the ward, and she must’ve known your blood pressure was skyrocketing through the roof because she shoots you a look of slight mischief, almost a glance of knowing.

“i should’ve known it was you,” the airy sigh that exits her parted lips calls for your attention over the clipboard.

“mr choi, you look too good for your age, honestly. this little injury will heal pretty good on its own as long as you take care of yourself while you’re staying here.”

“aw, no. you’re too kind.”

“he’s right, daddy. you’ll take care of my dad, won’t you?”

a wince exhibits itself on your face despite your pen flying across the report, mrs kang’s current condition coming out in ink though you weren’t even consciously writing every alphabet down.

“get anymore jealous and you’re going to be the one who needs your blood pressure taken, doctor l/n.”

mrs kang had her eyes focused on you in the corner of her eye sockets. slight embarrassment lights your soul on fire, but not as much as the irritation that was making your insides itch and squirm with despise.

“you should come over for dinner some time soon, do you remember the stew that you liked?

“ah, the one that mrs choi makes? of course, how could i forget?”

stew?

STEW?

“when daddy gets discharged, you have to visit sometime. mummy would be so happy to see you again!”

“would she?”

“of course! my wife loved you!”

so her parents don’t know he cheated on her.

doesn’t matter.

i’m gonna fucking kill him anyway.

“you should’ve seen him last week, child.”

the clipboard gets slid back into the slot at the end of the bed, and your neck cranes to look at mrs kang sitting up in her bed.

“the boy was in a mess.”

“you look very well, hyunjae. it’s really been a long time.”

“had you seen him and heard what he told me, you’d be in a mess too.”

“nah, four years don’t do much.”

“doctor l/n, are you listening to me?”

“you took four years to look like this! doesn’t he look great, daddy?”

“you flatter me too much, minhee.”

the mere trill of someone else’s name rolling off his tongue pushes you over an edge, an edge too close for comfort.

mrs kang reads your furrowed brows with ease and watches with a knowing smirk on her lips as you grab your patient files off the little cabinet next to the ward bed.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning, mrs kang.”

she sees right through your painful, forced smile, and she breaks out into a small chuckle.

the light hanging above her bed brightens the whites in her eyes, in contrast to the darkening sky right outside the window where choi minhee’s father was warded due to a small, almost unnoticeable stroke.

it tickles you to see mrs kang happy, but the voices coming from behind you were holding your heart in its hands, every word aggravating its merciless grip around you.

you turn on your heels and head out of the ward, trying your best to block out the voices that sounded like demons inside your head.

how you wished you could whack your patient files across that smug, pretty face.

how dare she talk to him like he didn’t cheat on her? how dare he talk to her like that despite that whole dramatic confession last week? just how dare he--

someone’s shoulder runs into your arm and your patient files clutter to the floor.

“oh, i’m-- y/n!”

he bends down to pick up your patient files before you could even process who you ran into.

“eric!” the surprised tone made your voice so much higher, you were sure it would’ve caught hyunjae’s attention if the clatter of the files hitting the floor didn’t. “what are you doing in the wards wing?”

“running off to find the patient file archive office... doctor min wants me to help him finish one more thing before i’m done for the day.”

he hands you the patient files, and your hands brush across each other. he doesn’t look at you with an ounce of awkwardness or distaste, and frankly, you missed his smile. you missed how enthusiastic he was.

you were lucky you were still friends with him.

“are you alright? you don’t look too--” rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes travel from your face to movement behind you that you could see in your peripheral vision.

“i’ll be right back!” hyunjae gestures into the room while he reverses out, and his patient files brush across your back.

eric’s eyes light up like bulbs and it stuns you to see how easily eric gets through it. “hyung!”

“eric! my boy!” he pushes past you like you were a road block and wraps his arms around the intern. “how are you? i haven’t seen you in so long-- the research department hasn’t called for me since last week.”

“yeah, i know. i’ve only been seeing y/n around in the research department. you must have more patients to care for.”

your eyeballs roll so hard in your head, you force a polite smile for eric while your feet turn to leave this party. “i’m gonna go--”

“whoa, whoa, where are you going? it’s dinner time--”

“you can find your dinner elsewhere, maybe have some stew at it if you like,” eric takes note of the disgust and disdain in your face before you pry the intern away from hyunjae so you could hug him instead. “i missed you so much. we have to catch up some other time, okay?”

“no problem! just drop me a text.”

the grin he presents you feels like soda on a hot day, and you walk off without bothering to turn to look at hyunjae.

the orange and blue sky outside your office window greets you like a flag, navy blue clouds cutting the skies into half across the horizon.

“‘you should come over for dinner soon’,” items get swept into your briefcase instead of being placed in it.

“‘doesn’t he look great, daddy?’ who even calls their father ‘daddy’ at 23? fluttering her eyes like she had something in her fucking eyes... smiling so hard that her eyes were literally missing from her fucking fac--”

the office door clicks open, and you see hyunjae walking in through your door in the reflection of the window.

the sharp sound of the zipper shutting the briefcase rings in the air like tearing a sheet of paper, and you shut off the main switch under your desk.

“y/n.”

a pen rolls off when you pick up your briefcase, coercing a frustrated groan out through your throat as you bend down to retrieve it.

“y/n, we said we’d have dinner together.”

“oh!” the sarcasm was dripping off your tongue, so when you turn to see his face, you know that he sees right through you.

but when has he not been able to?

“me? no! you have to get some of that mrs-choi-stew, don’t you?” steps were trying to take you away from him in the direction of the door, but you’ve barely made it past him when he grabs your upper arm without budging from his stance.

“kitten, wait.”

“don’t call me that and don’t tou--”

“kitten, are you jealous?”

“no, i’m not,” effort to writhe out of his hold becomes useless, but you struggle anyway. “let me go. i want to go home and--”

“so i’ll send you home and we can order takeaway.”

“no, i don’t need you to send me home--”

“i didn’t ask kitten. i’m telling you i will send you home and we will have takeaway.”

“ugh,” you vehemently yank your arm out of his grasp and glare at him. “do whatever you want, mr ‘my-wife-loved-you’.”

by the time you were in the car, hyunjae was very obviously finding some kind of fun and enjoyment watching you attempt to control how much your blood was boiling. he doesn’t say anything the whole ride to your place, and you try to convince yourself that you were only letting him drive you back because you didn’t want to pay for a cab or public transport.

but you remember that you love him now, and every little thing he does will end up crawling across the surface of your bones like ants on skin.

once in your apartment, you throw your keys into the basket atop the shoe rack by the door. your heels get kicked off and you dump your briefcase noisily on the kitchen island.

the front door clicks shut and you pull yourself onto the high-chair, occupying yourself with your phone and a menu you would rather have fill your guts than the thought of hyunjae flirting with his ex-girlfriend.

“kitten,” his feet shuffles against the floor and he places his briefcase in the hallway where it led to the front door.

oooh, sushi.

“kitten.”

maybe korean?

“kitten, look at me.”

“do you want sushi or--”

the device slides out of your hands and drops to the table with a soft thud, your high-chair being whirled around so suddenly before stopping abruptly.

the edge of the kitchen island etches itself against your spine as you lean back, one arm leaning on the surface while his fingers grip onto the edge of your seat.

“look me in the eye and tell me what’s wrong, kitten.”

is this man for real?

“for a smart man, you are really dense.”

“who said i didn’t know what’s wrong?”

what--

“i just wanted to hear you say it, that’s all.”

the skin on his cheek suddenly looked so plump and fitting for your palm to kiss.

“say it, kitten.”

“there’s nothing to say--”

“no, tell me you’re jealous, and that you never want me to let choi minhee flirt with me again.”

“i really wish i could stab you and get away with it.”

“you won’t even if you could, because you love me and that’s why you’re jealous.”

the smile on his face was so sweet, it makes you want to shove an insulin jab into your eye. he was so satisfied with the way you reacted, it was absolutely unbelievable that he was getting so much out of you.

his torso was rocking back and forth so slightly, his face leaning forward into yours. his flirtatious eyes locks with yours that were fuelled with anger and jealousy.

“i don’t think you deserve to hear anything because of what you let her d--”

you were interrupted in the form of a sudden kiss with his hands lining your jaw, eyes instinctively shutting upon the contact and your arms moving downwards to hold onto the edge of the chair.

unwillingly, you melt into the kiss like marshmallow over a bonfire between crackers.

it was gentle, like clouds in the sky and cotton candy on lips. he tasted sweet, with his lips buried between yours and his warmth seeping through his hands into your cheeks.

the anger and jealousy trickles into him with every passing second, and you marvel at his ability to have such immense control over your feelings. he didn’t even need to do much for you to become his kitten.

the kiss feels like eternity until he pulls away, lids slowly opening to reveal his slightly lustful eyes now.

he knows you’re starting to feel the same.

“say it, kitten, and we’ll forget about takeaway.”

a harsh exhale hits the top of his lip from your nose, and some tiny bit of anger and jealousy inside you surfaces.

“what if i don’t want to?”

he chuckles and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“why is it so hard for you to admit that you want me to yourself and the thought of having another woman in the picture kills you? you think i didn’t see how you wanted to use eric to piss me off just now?”

literally nothing you do gets past this man, it’s annoying.

you try to turn your head but he holds your chin and brings it back to him,

“don’t avoid me, kitten. you’ve been trying to get rid of me for 10 years... but look where that got us?”

his attention switches from your eyes to your neck, soft skin being littered with light kisses softens you even more.

“i’m waiting, kitten.”

a sigh that must’ve sounded like music to him rings in the air while his arms wrap themselves around your waist. your rear nearly gets lifted off the seat, so your left hand rests on his shoulder blade and the other finds his hair to tangle your fingers in.

“i hate you, do you know that?”

he smiles into your skin, and for a moment, it feels like pure bliss.

“but if you let anybody flirt with you like that and you flirt back, i’ll cut off your dick and make you watch it burn.”

one harsh suck evicts a gasp from you as you cringe under him. his strength channels through your spine as he lifts you off the seat and carries you to the sofa.

“that’s my girl.”

the rough texture of your sofa greets the back of your neck when he shoves his lips between yours once again, this time more desperate.

neither of you were trying to hide how much you were feeling for one another; all you wanted to do was to kiss him all night long and have his hands roam your body like he didn’t already know everything about it.

the kisses were desperate but slow and sensual, and the only piece of clothing that’s come off was his shirt.

so you could run your hands all over his torso, drawing circles and caressing the muscles on his back atop the soft squelch of your tongues and lips pressing together every second.

his forearms were resting on the sofa on either sides of your ears, biceps perching his torso up so he wasn’t crushing you under his weight.

your legs were apart on both sides of his hips and you could feel him fiddling with the button on your pants while he takes his time to press his bulge against your clothed core.

soft moans escape into his mouth, and you start to feel a heat gather in your underwear.

knock knock

hyunjae pulls away so fast, you register the emptiness on your lips before you process the sound.

knock knock

“y/n! are you at home? i thought i saw the backyard lights on!”

“oh, shit.”

of all times to come, your parents had to come now?!

you push hyunjae off you while removing yourself from under him, grabbing his shirt from the ground and recklessly hurling it into his face.

“put on your fucking shirt--”

“y/n, we can hear you inside! are you okay?”

“yes, i’m fine! give me a moment!” you run to the glass door of your backyard and fix your hair.

hyunjae barely gets his t-shirt on when you run over to the front door, opening it with a tiny gap to reduce the chances of your parents walking in on your sworn enemy being in your apartment.

“hi mom... dad...”

both of them look at you weird, but the scent of fried chicken garners your attention.

“you’re still in office attire-- have you eaten?”

“i--”

“i knew it. come on, we bought fried chicken to share,” your mother takes a step forward and tries to push the door open.

“ahH--”

she stops dead in her tracks, and your father shoots you a confused look.

“i-- well--”

“spit it out. the chicken’s gonna get cold if you don’t speak any faster.”

“i have a visitor with me right now--”

“a visitor? oh, goodie! we can all share, i’m pretty sure we got more than enough--”

“it’s not really a good time, mom--”

“nonsense! i can’t believe you invite others over and not your own parents!”

“well, this was impromt--”

clang

“ow!”

an awkward silence befalls between you and your parents. confused looks swamp their eyes and you struggle to contain your panic.

“is that--”

“that sounds strangely familiar...”

oh, god.

“we’ve heard this voice before, haven’t we, darling?” your mother turns around to look at your father, and your face distorts into an ugly mess of emotions when a second clang rings through the house, followed by a low curse that you were pretty sure your parents could hear too.

“we’ve definitely heard that before-- oh!” a light bulb appears above your father’s face, and you beg with your eyes not to say it--

“it’s that guy from your high school and college!”

your mother gasps, and she covers her mouth in shock.

“lee hyunjae?!”

“he--”

“LEE HYUNJAE! ARE YOU IN THERE?!”

“mom--”

“LEE HYUNJAE, WE HAVE CHICKEN!!! YOU WANT SOME?!”

oh, good god.

this is going to be a long night.

your parents were sitting across you at the table, with hyunjae sitting by your side.

the air between the party was heavy, awkward, dense.

your father was confused but cheerful.

your mother was shocked but she just couldn’t wipe that smug smile off her face whenever she gave hyunjae a piece of chicken.

“so... what brings you here?”

hyunjae looks like he was a deer caught in headlights when your mother takes a sip of soda after asking the question.

“i-- we... have a research project to work on.”

under the table, a familiar situation occurs to when you first had lunch with both eric and hyunjae.

his right hand finds your left thigh and he provides you a light squeeze, forcing you to clench down into the chicken you had in your mouth.

“oh,” your mother places the cup down. “y/n never told us she’s in the research department.”

“it’s a side job, apart from working with patients.”

heat starts to pool under you, and a chill involuntarily runs up your spine. his fingers were digging into your flesh on your inner thigh, and its only making you think horrible thoughts even with your parents before you.

“i see. must be real busy then? we haven’t seen her in like... what, eight weeks? since she started working at the hospital? the other day we wanted to drop by, but she said she was still working. it was a sunday, if i’m not wrong...”

“sunday? two weeks ago?” hyunjae side-eyes you when both your parents were looking at each other for confirmation.

your father pulls out his phone, nodding. “i believe it was sunday, i remember seeing the date when i texted her.”

“right, yeah. i saw her having takeaway in the pantry after dealing with a patient.”

great. now he knows i blew my parents off for him.

your thigh gets massaged over again, and it takes an immense amount of effort to swallow the moan that was already halfway up your neck. your heart was thumping so fast, you weren’t too sure why.

but your father finishes the last piece of chicken he has on his plate, and your mother gets up to wash some of the cutlery and utensils.

hyunjae’s palm finally leaves your thigh alone and you sigh with relief, watching your father peel little pieces of meat off the bones.

you watch in the glass panels of your backyard beyond your living room as hyunjae offers to help your mother wash the plates and cups, forgetting for a moment that your father was sitting right infront of you.

“what are you staring at?”

the white shirt hyunjae was wearing in the reflection loses your attention when your father catches your eyes wandering off axis.

“uh-- nothing!”

he turns around and looks at the glass panels.

“i thought i saw something in the backyard, that’s all.”

“oh,” he responds emptily, turning around. “i thought my hair was in a mess or something.”

my life is going to shorten by like 50 years.

your parents offer hyunjae a ride home (without knowing his car was sitting right outside your residence), and you butt in by telling them that he has to stay because he’s not done with his part of the project.

luckily, they miss his little grope on your rear when you escort them to the front door.

“it was such a nice surprise to see you again after all these years, hyunjae.”

hyunjae gives your mother a sheepish smile, leaning against the door frame with your shoulders perpendicular to his chest.

“we should meet up with your parents some time soon, it has been awhile. shouldn’t we, honey?”

your father nods, pulling up his sleeve to check the time.

“we have to go, honey. we both have a long day tomorrow.”

“okay,” she turns back to the both of you.

your relationship with your mother was never the best. but she looks at you with warm, soft eyes. eyes that said she was proud of you. eyes that said she was happy to be your mother.

and there was nothing more that could comfort you in that moment.

but your mother decides to ruin it, eventually.

“we’ll be taking our leave now...”

“oh, and uh... your shirt’s inside out, hyunjae.”

the look on your father’s face changes like a switch and he laughs at you, turning on his heels and making his way down the steps to the car.

a cheeky grin spreads your mother’s face when the both of you turn to look at hyunjae’s shirt, and the tag on the back was sticking out behind his neck.

she leaves without saying anything else, and they both wave to your embarrassed selves as the car drives off.

you wait until the car was no longer in sight, and then you choose to slam the door shut and give hyunjae a hard punch to his chest.

“you had one job!”

“you opened the door so fast!”

“it is a shirt-- how difficult is it to wear a shi-- oh, my god, they are going to call your parents. they are going to ask them out for a meal. we are going to need to go too. oh, my god--”

“kitten.”

“what?!”

“do me a favour and shut up.”

the dim hallway reminds you of the first time he has his hand wrapped around your throat. hours after you removed the oncology report from his folder meant to be submitted to doctor kim.

you remember the fiery hatred in his eyes. the burning sensation of the wine you downed just seconds before you got the door open, thinking it was your mother.

but this time, his hands were on your waist, his physique gently pressing against yours against the wall behind you when he fits his lips between yours.

you remember the feeling of the cool wine hitting your skin after the arrogant smile you had on your face was completely wiped away by him pinning you to the kitchen island.

your palms greet his chest as they slide up over his shoulders, getting your fingers tangled in his hair feels like he was becoming part of you.

as if he wasn’t already.

time?

one decade.

memories?

a million.

heartbreaks?

four in total, two each.

the first heartbreak, orchestrated by the enemy.

the second heartbreak, broken by a lover in silence.

death?

a better choice than being anywhere else besides in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue

A/N: I AM SAD

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz #hyunjae fanfic #the boyz fanfic #timetohajima hostis #i am sad

121 notes · View notes

bigheartedsky · 4 years

Text

Pairings: Hoseok x Reader; slight coworker!Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Angst

Word Count: 13.9k+

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks

Summary: Fifty years ago, your government decided that, due to the high rate of people suffering from loneliness, the O3-project shall be introduced to your country. The goal of this project was to reduce the years people spent trying and failing to find their perfect partner and making it possible for them to sit back and relax while they find it for them instead. You are one of the youngest Implementers of the One and Only Office yet and you love your job more and more everyday. But a new case has you doubting everything you do because nothing seems to add up. Why are you so attracted to the person you’re supposed to connect with their perfect partner and what does your coworker Namjoon have to do with all of this?

[a/n: This story is the one I’ve put the most effort in so far thinking carefully of how I want the story to develop and choosing to go with a slow burn love story this time. I hope you enjoy the story and thanks to the lovely @yeontanismypresident for beta reading again and for leaving such a sweet message at the end with her opinion <3 Now here are some side informations you might need for the story:

Finder = Job; runs data on people through the system and finds the couples meant for each other; they create the data files needed by the Implementers to do their job

Implementer = Job; gets in contact with the couples and manages meetings between them to make them get together

One = one of the couple; this is what you call the partner of the couple in front of you or yourself in this context

Only = one of the couple; this is what you call the most of the time not present partner of the couple especially when talking about him/her/it

Have fun reading!]

Masterlist

“Fifty years ago, our government decided that, due to the high rate of people suffering from loneliness, the O3-project shall be introduced to our country. The goal of this project was to reduce the years people spent trying and failing to find their perfect partner and making it possible for them to sit back and relax while we find it for them instead. Our department developed a system, with the help of Professor Kim, that runs through all available data on every single living person in this country and matches them together with an accuracy of 100% to this day. We never had any mistakes in our work, which is remarkable. Our systems get updated regularly, and we’ve grown from a four-people-team to a team made of over 5.000 people. But I don’t want to get into the detail of all our achievements which I’ve seen with my own eyes over all these years – there were many just saying – and let you all get to the buffet and celebrate our 50 years anniversary. A toast to our great department! To One and Only Office!”

“To One and Only Office,” everyone replied, including you, and raised their glasses to your boss. When the office got introduced, he was only 25 years old, fresh out of university, and still wet behind his ears just like you were now. Fifty years went by, and now he was 75 years old and almost done working his shift of this life. He still had a youthful glint in his eyes whenever he had one of his crazy new inventions in mind.

A few minutes later, you saw him coming up to you.

“How is my youngest Implementer?” he asked you with a friendly grin. You just started to grin back at him.

“She’s gonna miss you badly. Do you really have to go?” you questioned with a sad look on your face. He just laughed heartily and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.

“You’re going to survive without me. You’re smarter than me anyways, or why do you think I forced you into university? Someone has to come up with new ideas when I’m gone. Besides, I’ve worked my fair share already. Let me have some peace and quiet before I go for good.” Winking at you, he let out another laugh.

“I’m never gonna live up to that crazy mind of yours. I might as well quit right here and now.”

“And who’s gonna save my ass when I forget where I left my data files again?” Another voice joined into your conversations. You felt a hand on your hip and pressed your lips together in a thin line.

“How about you’d stop putting them down in random places, Namjoon?” you asked while gently removing his hand from your hip and taking a small step away from him. Turning to face both of them instead of just your old boss, you took a sip of your drink and rolled with your eyes smiling.

“I’m not doing it on purpose! It just happens.” He complained in a pouty voice. You sighed, laughing a little while excusing yourself from the conversation to finally get some of the good food they ordered. You thanked your boss silently when he engaged Namjoon in another conversation about his recent ideas so that he couldn’t follow you. You didn’t hate Namjoon, but sometimes his attitude towards you was just too much for you. Today was one of the days where you just couldn’t handle his attempts to flirt with you.

The next morning you checked your emails as per usual. Your work inbox included some data files of people you had to get in contact with, as well as a notification that an appointment was today at 3PM. You went over to your private inbox since there was nothing unusual in your work inbox, and you still had some time until work started. You put your kettle on the stove to make yourself a tea and worked your way through your private emails. Everything was normal until one of the emails caught your eye.

“Huh? That’s from work, but why did they send that to my private email?” confused but ensured that it’s just a mistake since they have both of your email addresses you opened the mail.

What’s up with this?

Your eyebrows furrowed even more, showing a deep crease in between them. Instead of the usual text, the email contained a random variation of numbers, letters, and punctuation characters. You rubbed your eyes for a second just to make sure that it wasn’t your eyesight acting up.

“This is a first… I better tell the IT department about that.” Making yourself some notes in your work calendar for the day, you finished your breakfast and made your way to the office.

After telling the IT department your concerns with the email you got, they assured you they’d look into it and keep you updated. Taking and giving one call after the other, you sat at your desk for hours, managing appointments for the next few weeks and going through the data the Finders gave you. Noticing the same bug on one of the data files as the one on the email you got this morning, you took the file and went over to the Finder department. Going through rows and rows of desks with computers and paper piles on them high enough to suffocate you if they would ever tip over, you searched for the Finder of this data file. You went to the department head Kim Seokjin to ask him about it first.

“Oh, that’s Namjoon’s case. He should be at his desk right now. But good that you found that. Would be a ton of work if this happened more often. We can print it out again for you. Might be our first little bug in the system right there.” Upon hearing the Finder’s name you sigh deeply, not sure if you were up to talk with him today, but you pulled yourself together immediately and thanked him for the help. You found Namjoons desk quickly, him being taller than anyone else in this office. He seemed focused on his work, typing away, and checking the papers to his left and right over and over. You’ve never seen him work at his desk before, and it almost shocked you how serious he seemed.

“Namjoon?” you asked very cautiously, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden for disturbing him at work.

“One second. I just need to finish these so that I can read them into the system and run the analysis.” He said, not even looking up from his work. It took a few more minutes before he tapped on his keyboard one last time and turned to you, satisfied with his work. Noticing now that it was you who called him made his whole attitude change a little.

“Y/N. What gives me the honor? Are you finally accepting my offer of lunch together?” You rolled your eyes, smiling a little, and put one hand on your hips, shifting your weight on one foot.

“The computer already said that you and I don’t match at all. You should know that better than everyone else since you ran the analysis on it. What was it again? 5% compatibility?”

“Okay, okay, I got it. You don’t have to sugarcoat your hatred for me. How can I help you?” He replied, acting deeply hurt with a very sarcastic undertone. Although his grin didn’t falter a bit the whole time, he turned a little more serious at the end.

“I’m here because of the data file on Jung Hoseok. I don’t know what happened with this, but I can barely read any information except for his Only and his address.”

Namjoon took the file out of your hand, and within one second, his grin turned into a frown. “What the hell… I remember exactly that I wrote everything down in the system. Why is it all gibberish now?”

“I don’t know, but I was hoping you could print it out for me directly from the program? Maybe the internal emailing has a bug.”

“Sure, just one second.” He turned towards his computer, typing away on the keyboard, and just a few seconds later, you could already hear the printer running. Namjoon got up and took the paper out of his printer. Checking it over one more time, his eyebrows furrowed again. “Strange…”

“What’s strange?” you asked, immediately going to look at the paper in his hand.

“The analysis is missing.” He was right. The whole paragraph on their compatibility was missing, but at least now it had all information on the persons themselves.

“That is strange. But this will be enough to get in contact with him and his Only for now. Can you tell Seokjin about this? I need to get ready for an appointment and also call this fellow.” You asked Namjoon.

“Only if you eat lunch with me together tomorrow. Just as friends, of course.” He grinned, which made you laugh a little.

“I have a lunch appointment tomorrow. Sorry, but how about Friday?” he let out a breathy laugh, sighing a little at the end.

“Sure. Friday then.”

“Okay. And just so you know, I don’t hate you.” A smile formed on his lips, although he tried to hide it, revealing his dimples. You gave him a playful shove and said your goodbye without even noticing the way he watched you walk away.

“Hello, here is One and Only Office Implementer Y/N Y/L/N. Am I speaking with Jung Hoseok?” Driving home in your car after the afternoon appointment, you called him on speaker. There was a short pause, followed by a loud crash on the other end of the call and a hurried reply.

“Yes! Yes, hey. I’m Jung Hoseok.” His voice sounded friendly and intoxicatingly happy. It had a soothing undertone to it.

“Mr. Jung, we found your Only, and I would like to make an appointment to talk about the next steps with you in person. When would be the right time for you?”

“Wow. Um- this is amazing. Sorry, I’m a little bit overwhelmed. I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was a little boy.” You couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face. His reaction was too cute, making you giggle a little. You pulled yourself together immediately again.

What the hell was that? Something that unprofessional never happened to me. I just giggled at a client! How embarrassing.

“Sorry, um- I didn’t mean to laugh. Your reaction was just too cute-“ WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING?!

You heard a hearty laugh at the other end of the phone.

“It’s alright. I’ll make time whenever you are available.” He replied, still laughing a little. Hearing his laugh made you blush without even noticing and laugh a little again too.

“How about tomorrow evening? 6PM?”

“Okay, it’s a date.” He replied cheerfully. Out of nowhere, your heart started beating like crazy. Making your goodbye as quickly as possible, you ended the call and stopped driving at the side of the road for a moment catching your breath.

What’s wrong with my heart? Is this a panic attack? It doesn’t feel like usual.

You tried all sorts of breathing exercises until your heart stopped beating so fast. Only when your heartbeat was back to normal, you started driving again.

Back home, you changed into your workout gear, taking your bag, and going to your weekly dance practice. You weren’t the best dancer, but you weren’t bad either. Nothing you could make money with, but doing it made you happy for sure. You loved your job, so you didn’t have a real eagerness to become a fulltime dancer anyways. On top of this was your best friend in the same team as you. You greeted her with a warm hug and sat down on the ground next to her starting to stretch together. After exchanging some updates about your week, she started showing you videos of this dancer she found on the internet just recently.

“He’s seriously amazing. His technique and precision on the music is out of this world. He’s my new idol, I swear.” She talked excitedly about him, pointing out the details of every choreography.

“Wow, he’s really good. What’s his name?”

“He goes by J-Hope, but no one knows his real name. He’s been going to a lot of competitions with his team and solo. He’s really lowkey on his social media, never giving any hints about his personal information.” Your friend stated sulkily.

“You already stalked his socials?” You scoffed, laughing a little.

“You know me.” She grinned back at you, getting up shortly after because practice started.

“Okay we’re gonna work on positions for the next dance performance today. Let’s see. We’re gonna make a triangle formation for the beginning. Y/N, you’ll come to the front.” Your dance coach instructed you, and you started walking to the front, hearing some whispered words along the way.

“Why is she always at the front?” – “I know, she’s not even that good.” – “Yeah.” – “Maybe she has a thing with the teacher?”

Swallowing hard, you tried to ignore their whispered comments, only focusing on what the coach has to say. You wouldn’t give them the favor of letting your true feelings show. The truth was that you always doubted your skills, and if it wasn’t for your best friend being here, you wouldn’t have the courage to come to practice in the first place.

Half an hour of just going through the positions and formations for the show passed until you practiced with music for the first time. Your best friend was dancing right next to you in the formation when she suddenly crash-landed on the floor, screaming and wincing in pain. The music was cut off immediately, and one of your teammates crouched next to your friend, asking her if she was alright.

“Y/N shoved her! I saw it with my own eyes. She wouldn’t even let her best friend be with her in the spotlight.” One of the girls from before suddenly exclaimed. You wanted to rush to your best friend, but the sudden accusations that now started coming from all the other girls caught you off-guard. Your whole body was starting to shake, eyes never leaving your friend who was clutching her leg with an expression twisted with pain. The coach went to your friend immediately, lifting her up and declaring practice was over for today and that he would bring her to the hospital. You were frozen in place, still shocked by everything that happened. Tears stung in your eyes, making you close them tightly. You started to move with closed eyes, shoving the girls that were still accusing you and now cornering you against the mirrored wall, to the side to take your bag and run out the door.

Throwing your bag on the passenger seat, you wasted no time to drive home, getting all sorts of flashbacks from high school. Your heart started racing, and your breath got more and more flat, forcing you to stop the car at the side of a road and get out to catch some fresh air. Going to the passenger side, you pulled the door open violently, not caring if anything broke, and searched for your medication in the glove compartment. Your hands were shaking and sweating like crazy, eyes slowly starting to get hazy, and the all too familiar feeling of dizziness setting in when you finally found your medicine. You quickly swallowed one of the pills and sat down on the grass next to your car until the medication set in. Sighing deeply, you let yourself fall back onto the grass, staring at the night sky where a few more stars glistened than in the center of the city where you lived.

The next day you received a call from your best friend. She wouldn’t be able to attend dance practice for a while because of her leg, and as far as she knew at that moment, she might even have to skip the performance. Your heart sank at that. Even though you knew you didn’t push her, you still felt guilty for not helping her immediately.

“I’m sorry how everything went yesterday. I didn’t know what to do, and then everyone started blaming me, and I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N. Don’t go blaming yourself as those idiots did. I know it wasn’t your fault. No one pushed me, I actually tripped over something although I don’t know what exactly. I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything at that time. Did you struggle a lot?” your best friend asked and proved to you again just how well she knew you.

“I’m okay. I just worry about you.” You answered although the aftermath of last night was clearly visible on your face. Your dark under-eye circles would even make a panda jealous and would need a lot of makeup to cover up later.

“Y/N…” your insightful friend knew you weren’t okay, but all you cared about was for her to get better soon.

“I have to go to work now. Please get well soon. Bye!” You hung up the phone before she could probe how you were really doing.

The day went by quickly with a lot of calls and appointments to do, and before you even realized it, your last appointment for the day was right around the corner. Walking up to the café he wanted to meet at, you kept watch for anyone who looked like he was waiting for someone. Since the data files were so messed up the picture that you would usually use to identify the client was barely visible. Walking around the café, you finally found a man sitting alone with his back to you. His style and overall appearance seemed like it could fit the age written on your papers so you made your way over to him.

“Mr. Jung Hoseok?” you asked politely, trying to look at his face while he was turning around with a sudden jump.

“Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack!” he exclaimed, downright scared, but then his whole expression changed when his eyes met yours. It felt like your eyes were drawn to his, not being able to stop staring into them. Hearing a loud noise, you both jolted out of your starring match and into reality.

“I’m sorry. Um- I-I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from the One and Only Office. Nice to meet you in person, Mr. Jung.” You held out your hand to greet him, and when he took your hand your whole body felt like electricity went through it, making you pull your hand away in shock.

“Sorry, I guess I must’ve become staticky somehow.” He answered and started grinning from ear to ear. “Hoseok is fine by the way. Can I call you Y/N?” You just nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

What’s wrong with me? Am I coming down with something? I feel so hot.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” You suggested, and took a seat across from him at the square table you were at.

“So, there has been some kind of problem with our system. Your analysis is not on here right now, but since the computer put your names together in the first place, I can tell you for sure that this is your Only.” You explained, pushing the details of his Only to him. He looked at the data intently, reading through everything while his brows knitted together in confusion. You took the opportunity to really look at all his features for the first time. His face had very gentle features, but his eyes seemed like they could change from kind to intimidating in the split of a second. Something about him seemed so very familiar to you, but you just couldn’t pinpoint what it was. It almost drove you into madness.

While reading through the interests and character of his Only his head tilted to the side almost seeming confused and unsure. He put down the papers, folding his hands together and intertwining his fingers. His elbows were resting on the table while his eyes were still looking at the data.

“This is really strange. I always thought… Well, don’t get me wrong I trust you completely but, I always thought my Only would have more in common with me.” Confusion was now not only visible on his face but also on yours.

“Do you mean you have nothing in common with that person?”

“Well not nothing but… it’s just very minor things that we have in common.”

“Hm, maybe it’s one of those opposites attract situations?” you suggested in hope to be right. With every passing minute you spend working on Jung Hoseok’s case it gets weirder and weirder.

“Hm, yea. Maybe you’re right.” Smiling a little again, his eyes met yours again, but there was something in them that bothered you. Disappointment? Sadness?

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries here but, you seem a little displeased by what I showed you, Hoseok.” Your eyes filled with worry while he started looking away slightly embarrassed.

“I guess I just expected more. Maybe also just someone that was more…” his gaze went swiftly over all of your features. “My type.”

You felt your cheeks heating up again.

Did he just check me out? Nah, I must be imagining things.

Clearing your throat, you took the data files back and stored them in your back.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I make an appointment to meet with your Only. Until then, feel free to contact me if you have any further questions regarding the O3 program. Since your Only lives in Busan, we’ll be driving you down there and make sure you have a safe trip and a place to stay there.” You explained to him getting ready to leave. When you got up, he also got up abruptly almost knocking over his chair.

“Will you be the one driving with me?” he asked you with his eyes full of solicitation. He seemed nervous because of the first meeting you assumed.

“It’s not the custom for an Implementer to accompany the One to their Only…” you tried to talk yourself out of it, but the way he was looking at you like a sad puppy made you crumble immediately.

“But… of course, I could ask if they could make an exception and let me go with you. If that makes you more comfortable.” His lips started forming a heart-shaped smile even spreading to his eyes.

“It would make me much more comfortable. I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.” He simply answered, holding his hand out for a last handshake with you. You took his hand, and again there was this feeling of electricity going through your body, but this time he didn’t let you pull away, holding your hand a little longer than expected. You parted ways shortly after that, but it felt different from your usual appointments. Something was different about this, and you felt like it wasn’t just all the bugs in the system.

The next day, you called Hoseok’s Only to make an appointment with her. Highly confused after that conversation, but still coming out of it with an appointment to make them meet for the first time, you hung up the call.

This gets weirder and weirder.

After thinking for what felt like a few hours about it, you started making your way over to the Finder Department again – more specifically Namjoon’s desk. This time he already noticed your approach from afar.

“My most favorite Implementer. Are you longing for meeting me that much lately? I’ve been seeing you almost every day. Not that I’m complaining, I really love it.” He grinned his charming dimpled grin from ear to ear at you. You leaned against his desk, half sitting on it while looking into the distance still thinking. His expression started changing when you didn’t reply anything to him, eyebrows now knitted with concern.

“You okay?” The joking sound had left his voice completely when he saw how serious you were.

“Yeah. I am. It’s just… you remember that case I got? The Jung Hoseok one?” he nodded hesitatingly. “Well, I met with Hoseok and he was… highly confused because his Only sounded like it wouldn’t match at all.”

“But we had people before who were complete opposites and they worked out just fine.” Namjoon started reasoning, eyes still soft and filled with concern completely fixated on your figure.

“Yeah, I told him that too. But something about this just doesn’t feel right. Like all those bugs that only appeared in this case and then his Only also seemed completely disappointed when I told her who her partner is. This is making me doubt this case more and more so I just have to ask you.” You turned your head to look Namjoon right into the eyes.

“Was there anything suspicious happening while you were working on this case? Did really nothing go wrong or did a server crash and mix up the people? Systems aren’t always perfect so I gotta ask.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t say I have seen anything weird with it while working on it…” His eyes went back to the screen midway through the sentence making you look down at your shoes.

“Okay, thanks anyways.” Getting up you pushed yourself off his desk a little. “See you Friday at lunch.” A smile that you knew wasn’t showing in your eyes formed on your lips and with a last small wave you went back to your desk for the rest of the day.

It had been two weeks since you last saw Hoseok, and you couldn’t feel more nervous. You didn’t even understand why you were feeling like that in the first place. He was just a client after all. But still, you took two hours to put together an outfit and spent an extra 30 minutes to do your hair too which you usually wouldn’t.

You drove to the place he wanted you to pick him up from, with the car you would both drive to Busan in. Your luggage was packed away carefully so that there was still enough space for his stuff in the back of the car, and although you weren’t the biggest fan of driving long distances you were still excited for it.

Parking the car, you held in front of a tall building with a whole front made of windows. You double checked the address before you made your way in going straight for the front desk.

“Good Morning, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m from One and Only Office. I’m here to meet with Jung Hoseok.” You explained politely.

“Let me see.” The receptionist moved her finger down a long list before she stopped at one line. “Ah, here it is. Y/N Y/L/N. Mr. Jung is still at practice in room 1.03. It’s on the first floor to your left, the third door. He allowed me to tell you to just go in when you arrive.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at her before you started moving towards the room. When you stood right in front of the room you could hear music coming from the inside. It sounded as if you were underwater only the bass rang out to you until you opened up the door. What you saw inside made your jaw drop immediately. Hoseok was dancing with four other guys in absolute synchronicity and finally it hit you where you saw him before. You heard your best friends voice loud and clear in your head even with the music hitting your ears.

He is J-Hope… Jung Hoseok… J-Hope… Jung equals J and Hoseok equals Hope. Wow, I could’ve guessed that.

The sudden quiet when the music turned off made you jolt out of your thoughts.

“Y/N!” You heard an excited voice call out to you. A sense of joy spread throughout your body immediately, making you smile.

“Nice to see you again, Hoseok. Are you ready for the trip?”

“Oh, that’s Y/N? Wow we heard a lot about – uff” the sentence by one of the younger looking boys was caught off by the one next to him hitting him with his elbow in the stomach. You looked at them questioningly, but still smiling.

“He meant we heard a lot about Hoseok’s Only and your great work with that.” Another one with very broad shoulders answered for him.

“Ah. I don’t do half of the work that gets put in a case.” You explained quickly with a little laugh. Hearing the door open behind you again you stepped aside to let the person get in. A boy that looked like he was in the same age span as the one that got hit met your eye, and started smiling a square smile at you.

“Oh! You must be Hoseok’s Only! Wow, you’re really exactly his type. Do you dance too? That would be awesome you guys could do couple choreographies!”

“I-I do but I’m not-“

“You do?? That’s so cool! Did you hear that Hoseok hyung? She dances, too! Why do you have such a strange look on your face?”

“Taehyung, she’s not his Only.” The one with the broad shoulders explained to Taehyung who was still standing in front of you, and now looking at you pouting.

“You sure?” He asked sulkily, and it made your heart almost explode when you started thinking of the possibility of you being Hoseok’s Only.

“I think we should really get going!” Hoseok suddenly declared when Taehyung opened his mouth to continue voicing all of his doubts. Being pushed out of the room in a rush, you only had a second to say goodbye before you and Hoseok were alone in the hallway.

“Shall I take one of the bags?” You offered up, but he quickly took his backpack and luggage before you could.

“Don’t worry. I’m strong.” He answered, smirking and winking at you, making you blush. You looked away immediately, and picked up a faster pace walking in front of him now so he wouldn’t notice your expression.

“Okay, then let’s get going. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You were driving in silence sitting next to each other, not sure whether the two of you should start up a conversation or not. Hoseok was sitting in the passenger’s seat, wearing a simple white oversized shirt tucked into ripped jeans he switched into after practice. His gaze was set on the scenery out his window with one arm leaning on the door below it. You sneaked a few glances at him while driving, feeling your eyes drawn to him whenever you stopped looking.

Eyes on the road, Y/N. Don’t want any accidents on the job. You can stare at him lat- OMG no you can’t stare at him at all. You’re bringing him to his Only and THAT’S IT!

Lecturing yourself in your head nonstop, you jumped a little when the music suddenly turned on making you drive in a slight curve for a second.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought some music would be nice.” Hoseok apologized to you.

“It’s okay… Just warn me next time.” You replied, laughing a little. You started relaxing a little while he selected the music on his phone that he connected with the car speakers. Tapping on the steering wheel, you started humming and singing to all the songs you knew, which were a lot on his playlist, and every song you didn’t know you loved nonetheless.

“I’m surprised that you know this band.” You heard Hoseoks voice over the music.

“They are amazing. I actually went to their concert last year and it was the best concert I’ve been to so far.” You got excited all over again just talking about the concert and seeing the memories replay in your head.

“How cool, I was there too! Did you go to the one in Seoul?” Nodding and humming as a yes, you kept your eyes on the road for safety. “Can’t believe I didn’t see you there.”

“Well, there were thousands of people so the chance that we’ve crossed paths is very small. And even if we crossed paths, we could’ve still just ignored each other.” You answered trying to suppress the increasing heartbeat of yours.

“I don’t think I could’ve ignored you.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear. It was almost just a mumble as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he should say it. Your eyes glanced at him. He was looking out the side window, chin leaning on his hand, and slightly looking like he was mad about something. Opening your mouth to ask what was wrong, your thought got interrupted by a beeping sound of your car. You looked down at the fuel gage noticing that it needed a refill so you took a turn at the next sign for a gas station. Done with paying for the refill, you headed back out to the car where Hoseok was waiting for you when someone approached you quickly.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry if this is weird but you kind of captured my attention and I just thought maybe I could give it a shot and just ask for your number?” the man in front of you didn’t look bad, and his approach didn’t offend you in the slightest, but you just didn’t feel like giving your number out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t give out my number.” You replied politely. “But I admire your courage.” With that you started walking towards your car again, but you couldn’t even take two steps before he was in front of you again.

“Why not? I promise it won’t be a waste of your time.”

“I’m really sorry.” You replied again still with a polite smile.

“Aw, come on. I can offer you a lot.” He grabbed your arm when you started walking past him again.

“Please let go of me.” You tried to push his hand off you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m just asking for a chance.”

“And she’s asking you to let her go.” You suddenly heard another voice behind you. Turning your head to the side you saw Hoseok now next to you. In one swift movement, he removed the hand of the man from your arm, and took your hand in his to pull you with him.

“Let’s go.” He simply said while walking to the car. Your eyes were fixated on his face, but the only thing you could make out from this angle was his tense jaw. Opening the passenger door, he pushed you gently inside before making his way to the driver door.

“Keys.” Hoseok looked at you while holding out his hand.

“Hoseok, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Why didn’t you call out to me?” He looked into your eyes clearly mad.

“He was just a little bit persistent… He didn’t hurt me or anything and I’m sure he-“

“You’re sure he what? Would’ve let you go? I know those types of guys. He wouldn’t have given up so easily if I wouldn’t have gone to get you.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Hoseok. This happens to every women once in a while and I-“

“But you’re not every woman!” he suddenly yelled at you making you jump and look at him in surprise but, it just took you one moment to get yourself back together.

“What am I then, huh?” you asked back provokingly.

“You’re- You’re a person I don’t want to get hurt.” Every bit of anger that you had left in your body suddenly vanished with this sentence from him. You were speechless, and looked into his eyes which weren’t angry anymore as well. A loud honking sound brought you both back to the real world where a few cars were already waiting for you to make space at the gas station.

“W-We should get going…” you said, still a little bit shy while he nodded. He lifted one hand out of the car as an apology to the people behind you while he started driving back on the road.

… Wait a minute

“Why are you driving now anyways?” you asked him a few minutes later, and he just started laughing suddenly.

“You just noticed??”

A few hours later ,you arrived at your hotel in Busan. Your office really didn’t do things by half-measures. The room – or better called a suite – you two lived in had two bedrooms, a small living room, a kitchen area to eat and make late night snacks, and a huge bathroom.

“Wow, I should ask if I can go along more often.” You simply stated while going inside the suite. Hoseok dropped his bags, mouth hanging wide open. Suddenly he ran to one of the bedrooms just to jump on the bed with arms and legs spread widely like a starfish. Your eyes followed him with the sudden movement making you laugh immediately.

“This is great!” He exclaimed, sitting himself up to look at you again. “What’s next on our plan? Dinner? Karaoke Bar? Or maybe we could go dancing?”

“Those all sound great but we actually have an appointment to meet with your Only in an hour. Just enough time to get ready after that long drive.” You explained watching his expression change from excited to sulky.

I’ve never seen a client be so unhappy to meet his Only.

A smile started spreading on his face again, but it didn’t seem as excited as before.

“Okay, let’s get ready.” he said, before jumping up and getting his stuff to put on something nice. You did the same in the other bedroom, changing into your usual work outfit – with just a little more care than usual.

Ding – Dong –

The doorbell sound rang through your ears for a moment. Hoseok was standing next to you, wearing a nice button-down shirt and black trousers. He was looking way too good for your taste which somehow made you feel uneasy about the meeting. You were confused by your own feelings, but at least you were able to convince him to fully button up his shirt instead of leaving the first few buttons open – which had him looking even better before.

With a squeak the door opened up and behind stood a young lady, maybe five or so years younger than you. She had short black hair and wore a headband to keep it behind her ears.

“Hello, you must be Miss Y/L/N, I’m Lee Jisu.” the girl introduced herself shaking your hand and then looking at Hoseok.

“Nice to meet you in person, Miss Lee. If I may introduce you two: this is Jung Hoseok. Your partner. Hoseok, this is Lee Jisu, your Only.” You introduced them both, and with a smile on their face they greeted each other properly but something was different from the other people you brought together.

There is no visible spark… Maybe I’ve been watching too many romance movies but usually when I meet the couple later, they’re so head over heels for each other. Maybe it needs some time?

“Shall we go inside?” Jisu asked, getting your attention back.

“Yea, let’s go.” Hoseok replied, taking the first steps inside. You stood outside, knowing that your part was done for today, and wanting to head back to the hotel. Turning around, you were surprised to suddenly feel a hand on your wrist.

“Where are you going?” When you looked up to the person holding you it was Hoseok’s face meeting you with an almost panicked expression. You looked at him in confusion.

“I’m going back to the hotel. You two need to get to know each other, and I’ll be in the way if I stay. I only got the instructions to bring you here and observe the development of the next few days.” Explaining the situation how you were taught at the office, you noticed his struggle to come up with an answer. In the end, he just let go of your wrist without another word.

“Okay, I’ll see you later tonight then.” With these words he turned around and went inside. You didn’t move a muscle until the door was shut feeling like you’re about to lose something dear to you. Taking all the willpower you got, you forced yourself to turn away and go back to the hotel.

You were exhausted. Your whole body was screaming at you being too tired to do anything anymore after getting ready for bed. All fours spread widely on the bed – mimicking Hoseok’s position when he jumped on the bed earlier – you stared at the ceiling. You looked to the wall where a big clock was hung.

“AARRGGHH How is it past midnight already?? Why can’t I sleep???” You took a pillow to scream into while kicking the bed underneath you.

“Y/N are you okay?!” His panicked voice made you sit up, immediately hiding your legs – you were wearing a pair of really short pajama shorts – with the pillow you used to scream into just now.

“Hoseok, you’re back?” Your face was bright red while you tried playing cool in front of him.

“Yea, and I thought I heard you screaming so I came to look if everything was okay…” He looked a little more relaxed now that he knew that you were okay, but judging from his messy hair and slightly unbuttoned shirt you thought he must’ve been in the middle of changing before running to you.

“I’m okay. I just had troubles falling asleep and got frustrated.” You explained bluntly honest to your own surprise. It was just too easy for you to open up to him.

“Oh, hang on a second. I’ll be right back.” Hoseok replied after thinking for a second. After he left your room you took the time to hide your lower body under the blanket leaning yourself on the headboard. After a few minutes had passed, he came back wearing jogger pants and a sweater as pjs and carrying two mugs.

“Here you go.” He said while holding one of the mugs out to you. “I didn’t know if you are lactose intolerant so I used the lactose free milk. This always helps me sleep. My mum gave me the recipe.” His smile was proud and contagious making you smile a little too.

“Thank you.” You replied, really meaning it while he sat down at the edge of the bed still facing you. “Are you close to your mum?”

“Very much. I just wish I had more time to spend with her. Work is keeping me busy. I’m gonna make it up to her though. Once I saved up enough money, I’m gonna buy her and my dad a nice little restaurant where she can show everyone what an amazing cook she is. You know her Kimbap is the best I’ve ever eaten, you need to try-“ his eyes looked up at you smiling heartwarming at him because he looked so happy talking about his mum. He cleared his throat looking at you apologetically.

“Sorry for rambling on like that.” He simply said and lifted his mug to drink some of the milk.

“No worries really! I actually enjoyed it. I’m close to my family too so I can understand.” You replied, giving him a small smile that he returned. The atmosphere changed between the two you, making you feel a little restless and strangely hot.

“So, uh, how was the date?” He almost choked on his warm milk when you asked him, making you lean forward and pat his back with a worried look while he started coughing.

“I- … It was okay. She’s nice. Very polite. Called me Mr. Jung the whole time.” He laughed a little. “I don’t know about this…”

“Maybe you guys need more time together. You’ll meet again tomorrow anyways so I’m just gonna leave you guys to it again.”

Why am I so happy that it went badly? This is my job, and if it goes badly it would mean that we made a mistake for the first time. That’s a huge deal.

He nodded, looking at the wall in front of him.

“Say, do you have an Only yet?” Now it was your turn to almost choke on the milk, but at least you didn’t have to cough.

“No, I don’t. Everyone always jokes I’m gonna stay a One forever.” A smile was tugging on his lips.

“And what do you think about that?” he asked, referring to the “One forever” part.

“Well, I was starting to believe it too.” You laughed a little. “And I thought I’d be fine with that.”

“Why the past tense?” His eyes looked straight into yours, no joking whatsoever visible anymore. It made you forget all the punchlines you’d usually say in those situations and just stare into his eyes until you couldn’t handle it anymore and looked away.

“I don’t know. I guess something changed.” He hummed accepting that answer for now, but you could see the smirk on his lips.

“So, after lunch we’re going to meet with Jisu again and you two will have another date to get to know each other better. Everything clear so far?” Hoseok nodded while drinking the last bit of his Sprite before he was done with his meal. After you paid for the lunch with the company card you both made your way over to Lee Jisu’s home where you were greeted with a very unsettling sight.

“A police car…” Hoseok stated, looking at Jisu’s mother talking to a police officer with worry in her face.

“Did something happen yesterday?” you asked Hoseok, but he just shook his head looking just as worried and confused as you. You parked the car and left it together to ask what was going on.

“She has short straight black hair and was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. I- I think she took the white converse shoes because I can’t find them anywhere but- Oh, Miss Y/L/N. I’m so sorry I forgot to call you.” Jisus mother greeted you immediately when she saw you interrupting her explanation to the officer.

“Call me? I’m sorry but may I ask what happened Mrs. Lee?” you asked with confusion.

“Jisu ran away.” She sighed. “She’s nowhere to be found and I think it’s because I forced her to do the Only meeting and I’m-“ tears were starting to run down her face, and it looked like it wasn’t the first time today. You immediately searched for a tissue to give to her, but Hoseok was even faster than you holding it out for her.

“Thank you, Hoseok.” Jisus mother said, taking the tissue.

They already seem so close… you tried to suppress the frown building on your face.

“She ran away? What do you mean by forcing her to meet her Only?”

“Well, you see. Before you called to tell her that you found her Only, she was convinced that Seok Jo – the boy living in the village nearby – was her Only. She was waiting for the day that the office confirmed it for her so the two of them could finally get married. I always told her that it might not be him but she-“ Mrs. Lee started sobbing again, interrupting herself.

She already has someone she loves that much? No wonder she was so cold towards me during the call and so distant to Hoseok.

Your eyes searched for Hoseok reading his expression that was fixated on Jisu’s mother.

“Do you have any clue where she could be? Friends or family nearby?” You asked, looking at Mrs. Lee again. She just shook her head.

“Seok Jo doesn’t answer his phone and I know he might be sleeping because he worked late yesterday, but I don’t want to leave the house in case she comes back. My husband already started driving to our family to look for her there. But…”

We need to do something. We can’t just wait and see what happens.

“We can go and look for her at Seok Jo’s place.” Hoseok suddenly said, making your eyes draw to him in surprise, but your expression changed quickly to thankfulness. Looking back at Mrs. Lee you nodded at her.

“We just need his address and we’ll handle it.” You added, and Mrs. Lee hugged you both before she went inside to get the address.

You were restless. This case was getting so complicated, and you just felt like there was something horribly wrong with it. Your eyes drifted to Hoseok who was driving with his eyes forward looking all tense himself.

There must’ve been a mistake at the office. It can’t be anything else. I just don’t know what else could cause such a mess. This all just doesn’t make sense! Should I tell him my doubts? What will he think of me once I tell him? He will hate me for sure. But if I don’t tell him and it really was a mistake the office made; he’ll hate me for not telling him my doubts. What should I do? What-

“You okay?” Hoseok suddenly asked with his eyes on you for a second. You didn’t even notice how long you stared at him, eyes full of worry.

“Actually, no.” your eyes darted away dancing around the area. “I’m not okay. I feel like I’m getting sick to be honest.” Heartbeat increasing with every second, you felt a panic attack growing inside of you. Hands sweaty, breathing shallow, and your mind all hazy you lost yourself in all the doubts and self-destroying thoughts in your mind.

“Y/N?” You could feel Hoseok’s hand on yours, his voice full of worry, but it seemed all so far away like you were underwater.

“Please stop the car!” Was the only thing you were able to get out of your mouth, and he did exactly that, immediately stopping on a country road in the middle of two fields. You fidgeted with the door of the car struggling to get it open in your state since it wasn’t like your own car. You heard a loud bang, and a second later, Hoseok was on your side of the car opening the door and getting you out. He sat you down on the grass next to the road and crouched right in front of you.

“Y/N. Y/N, look at me.” He told you with a calm voice, still holding your hand with one hand, and using the other to direct your head so you looked at him. “Copy me. Breath in. Hold your breath. Good. 3… 2… 1… breath out. Now repeat with me.”

You copied his breathing and listened to every instruction he gave you. Slowly, your heartbeat was decreasing again, palms becoming dry, and head coming back out of its hazy state.

“You’re doing great. Just a few more times.” You just now noticed that his hand holding onto yours was checking your pulse while doing the exercise. “Okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” This was the moment you broke. Your arms swung around his neck, hugging him tightly, and he hugged you back, immediately dropping his knees to the ground to not fall over with you. His hand started stroking the back of your head comfortingly while you started sobbing silently.

You let go of him after a while, wiping away your tears which he helped you with by gently rubbing a tissue under your eyes. His eyes were full of warmth and comfort when you looked at them, which had you laughing a little, still affected by the panic attack you just had though.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a poor lost puppy you just found.” You joked a little, shoving against his shoulder gently. You felt exhausted from the panic attack, but not as bad as usual when you had to take the meds to get it away.

“Oh, you’re not?” He grinned, making you hit him against his chest a few times. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, sorry I take it back! I surrender!” He declared with his hands held high. Once you smiled at him and declared peace, he got up and held out his hands for you.

“Come on. We should talk to Seok Jo. And don’t worry, we’re going to find Jisu. You’ll be alright and back at your office in no time. So, just trust me. We’ll find my Only.” He smiled comfortingly while pulling you up on your legs.

“Yea, uhm well you see that’s exactly it. I think-“ Your sentence was interrupted by a loud honk making you both look in the direction you came from. A large tractor was standing there waiting for you to get driving since he couldn’t get past you. You both apologized to him and got in the car before anythingelse could be said.

“So… do you get these panic attacks often?” he asked carefully, trying to not touch a sensitive topic. You laughed a little.

“Smooth. But yea I do get them sometimes.”

“How come? If I may ask.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been struggling with social anxiety for a while now. It started in high school because of a whole lot of ugly bullying – don’t want to get into detail with that right now – but now I also get affected by stress. If I feel overwhelmed or socially pressured, I get them. It’s really annoying and frustrating but I can’t change it.”

“Socially pressured? How so?” he asked in the most careful and sensitive voice he could.

“Well, for example last time at dance practice. My best friend fell and hurt herself and everyone said I pushed her – which I didn’t. They were angry because I got the front position in our first formation in the choreography. And I just couldn’t handle all the blaming so I ran out and yea…”

“That sounds really mean. Why would they do that? If I would’ve been there with you, I would’ve told them off for good! They would never even dare to do that again to you!” Hoseok got angrier and angrier, explaining how he would’ve dealt with them if he would’ve been there which made you laugh at some point.

I’ve never told this to anyone except for very close family and friends. It’s way too easy to talk to Hoseok. I feel so at ease with him.

The door swung open after an eternity of ringing the bell.

“Mrs. Song, if it’s because of the apple tree I was going to cut it later toda- Who are you?” A very sleepy looking young man stood in front of you two, eyes closed when he opened the door and still dressed in pjs and a dressing gown.

“Sorry that we woke you up. Are you Seok Jo?” You asked politely, and the man in front of you nodded still suspicious. “You see, I’m Y/N Y/L/N from the O3 office. This is Jung Hoseok. He is listed as the Only of Miss Lee Jisu.”

This made the attitude of the guy in front of you change completely. Before you could even react, he had Hoseok grabbed at his collar, even lifting him up from the ground a little.

“So, you are the asshole that tries to steal away my Jisu? Let me tell you this. I WON’T let some townie like you just walk in here and take what belongs to me! Jisu is MY fiancé and I won’t accept this stupid agreement made by some company!” he yelled at Hoseok who just held onto the wrists of Seok Jo to keep himself in control somehow. You stepped in between them, quickly pushing Seok Jo away gently which he complied to letting go of Hoseok in the process.

“Please, Mr. Seok Jo! We’re not here because of the O3 agreement. We came here to find Jisu.” You explained quickly which again made him change his attitude.

“Find Jisu? What do you mean by that?”

“She ran away. Her mother said that she forced her into meeting with Hoseok – I mean – Mr. Jung and it seems like she is not pleased by the idea of being with her Only too much. We don’t want to force her into anything she doesn’t want. We’re not monsters, we just want people to be happy with each other. So, can you help us find her? I think something went terribly wrong here, and we need to fix this.” You could feel Hoseok’s piercing glance at you when you said the last sentence.

“O-Of course. Let me just get my shoes and keys and I’ll be right with you.” Seok Jo said rushed while stumbling back inside to put on his shoes, hitting himself on a shoe cabinet cursing in the process.

“You know.” Hoseok suddenly started speaking. “They really fit together.”

You looked at him trying to figure out what he was thinking while he said that, but since you didn’t get a big impression of Jisu you decided to trust his judgement and throw away your doubts.

A few hours of driving to every place Seok Jo thought Jisu could be passed, and to be honest, the whole situation was looking rather bleak. You took a short break to grab something to eat, stopping at one of the few convenience stores nearby.

“Where could she be..?” You mumbled while taking a bite from your sandwich.

“Is there really no other place you guys liked to go? If I was in her shoes, I would want to go somewhere only my love knows. A place with a big meaning to us.” Hoseok said bluntly while looking at his reflection in the window of the convenience store. Hearing a silent thud next to you, your eyes went to Seok Jo who just let his sandwich slide through his fingers.

“I think I know where she is.” He suddenly said, and you immediately grabbed your keys taking the sandwich with you to finish on the way instead.

“Then let’s go! It’s already getting really dark.” You declared, and the two of them just nodded and jogged out to the car. It was an hour-long drive to a far-off part of the beach in Busan. You had to leave the village where they lived and drive through the whole town before you found it. Without Seok Jo with you, you would’ve never found the way there. You parked the car and searched in the trunk for a few emergency flashlights. You gave each of them one and took one for yourself too.

“Okay, I’m not sure in which direction she could be so I’m going to walk along this side and you guys take the other one. If any of us finds her we call immediately, okay?” Seok Jo explained turning on his flashlight to search for Jisu at this pitch-black beach. You both nodded before parting ways with Seok Jo. You were grateful that Hoseok was staying with you since you didn’t like the dark at all. Although you couldn’t deny that the stars out here were really stunning.

“Jisu! Jisu are you here! Please answer if you hear us!” you called out every few steps just as Hoseok did too. You were searching for an hour already when it suddenly started pouring down.

“Shit! Let’s go find something to take cover.” Hoseok called out to you.

You started running to try and find some space free from rain when you found a small wooden cabin standing open at the back of the beach. It was just a storage space for the life guards but it didn’t seem like it was used often. You ran inside to get out of the rain already completely wet. Groaning in frustration and desperation, you leaned yourself on an old wooden broken desk that looked like it stood in an office at some point.

“This is hopeless!” you called out. “We’re never gonna find her. Especially not in a city we barely know.”

“Calm down, Y/N. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to find her and-“

“And what? Make you and her be together? Or make Seok Jo and her be accepted by her mother? Both seem impossible to me at the moment and do you know what that means? It means that I failed. My Office failed for the first time and this will kill our reputation. How are we going to explain that? This is our ruin!”

“It won’t be your ruin! It’s just one case that was wrong. ONE of how many?” Hoseok asked you, smiling a little while holding onto your shoulders gently. You let yourself slide down the desk until you were sitting on the floor, arms around your legs and back against the desk. He sat down beside you, sliding one arm around your shoulder comfortingly.

“4.376.938….” you mumbled quietly.

“See, it won’t ruin the office. And you can find the mistake and repair it so this won’t be happening again.” Hoseok was stroking your arm with his hand, and you just nodded at him.

“Yes, I’m just so sorry you have to go through all this trouble. And that Jisu is somewhere out there just because we made a mistake, in this rain, alone at that! I just- ugh” you tried hiding your face in your hands, but he wouldn’t let you, making you face him instead.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Don’t go blaming yourself for this. And I actually like this trouble. Well, as long as I’m in trouble with you.” Your eyes softened just as his when he said that.

I don’t know anyone I would like to be in trouble with more than him.

And there it was. The moment you knew was going to happen as soon as your eyes met his for the first time. The moment you’ve been trying to avoid at all cost. He was leaning towards you, and within a mere second his lips were on yours, gently and feeling like it lasted only a few seconds. You both savored these few seconds like they were the only ones you ever had together. Opening your eyes slowly at the same time, your eyes met again. His hand wandered into your hair wanting to pull you in for another kiss when you suddenly heard a noise from the back of the cabin. Both of you turned your head towards it when you saw a figure opening the door of a room behind you. Grabbing your flashlight quickly you pointed it in the direction.

“Who’s there??” Hoseok asked, trying to seem intimidating if it was someone dangerous. But it wasn’t anyone like that.

“Jisu?” you asked quickly getting up and running over to her.

“Miss Y/L/N.” Jisu looked at you surprised. She was limping a little holding onto the doorframe and reaching out to you when you came near. You immediately held onto her to keep her steady.

“What happened to your leg? Come on, sit down.” You helped her over to the desk together with Hoseok who lifted her up on it to sit. While he checked on her leg you took out your phone ready to call Seok Jo.

“How did you find me?” Jisu asked while wincing when Hoseok found the spot that hurt.

“Seok Jo showed us. He searched with us all day to find you.” Hoseok explained while you called Seok Jo.

“Seok Jo? Is he here too?” Jisus eyes were glistening with hope and worry at the same time when she heard his name.

“He’s on his way.” You replied to her smiling after you hung up the call. “God, I’m so glad that we found you.” A hand spread on your shoulder squeezing it comfortingly.

“I am too.” Hoseok said standing to your left behind you. Jisu looked at you both with a look you couldn’t quite understand before she started smiling a little.

She seems happier than I thought about this situation. I thought she would try to escape from us again.

Seok Jo came running over to the cabin as soon as you told him that you found her. With his pjs and dressing gown completely soaked he stormed in the cabin. When he saw Jisu he immediately went to her and hugged her tightly. Tears were forming in his eyes while he continued to lecture her to never do that again.

“I just didn’t know what to do. Mr. Jung and I just don’t fit and I know that he felt that way just like I did. The only one I love is you. I’m really sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but Seok Jo is my Only no matter what everyone else wants to tell me. I’m convinced of that!” Jisu stated, trying her best to be brave and make her standpoint clear.

“Don’t worry, Jisu. I’ve already told Hoseok that I think something went wrong in the office. I’m going to go back and investigate the matter before telling you what really happened. I’m convinced too now that you and Hoseok just aren’t partners. I mean, I’ve been in this business for quite a while and when I look at you and Seok Jo I see the same as when my clients meet usually. So, how about we go back to your mother and explain the whole situation to her? I’m sure she’s still awake.” You explained, and could visibly see them both relax and exchange looks in between.

“Oh god, my mother! She will kill me.” Jisu said suddenly, with her face full of worry. You all just had to laugh at that, trying to convince her that her mother will just be happy having her back home. After this, you made your way back to the car once the rain wasn’t too heavy anymore. Seok Jo was carrying his fiancé all the way like a princess which made you realize just how strong he must be from all the farm work he was doing. The two of them talked quietly with each other the whole way, walking in front of you since you didn’t know the way back to the car anymore. Hoseok was walking right next to you and at some point his hand found yours holding onto it softly. Your heart started beating faster, and again, it was like electricity was running through your whole body. You looked at him even though you could barely make out the silhouette of his face in the darkness.

No, this isn’t right. Even if he might not be Jisu’s Only, he will be someone else’s at some point. I can’t just toss all of my principles out of the window. I don’t want to go back to failed relationships anymore. As long as the computer won’t spit out who my Only is, I’ll be alone. Once I’m back at the office I’ll fix his case, and will have to make him meet up with his real Only. I can’t handle this.

Pulling your hand away softly, you took a small step to the side to bring some space in-between you. You held onto your hand in front of your chest while picking up the pace back to the car. Seok Jo and Jisu sat on the back seat, leaning onto each other, sleeping soundly. You looked back, smiling a little while putting a blanket on top of them. Hoseok was driving you guys back through the night of Busan, looking at you every now and then. He seemed like he had something on the tip of his tongue that he was dying to talk about, but something held him back. You tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, but you felt his stare on you every time.

Once you arrived at Jisu’s home, her mother was so happy to have her back she even forgot to be angry about it. Both of them kept apologizing to each other, starting to take the blame for everything. You felt terrible for everything that happened, and stepped up to clear up the matter at hand. After you explained the whole thing again to Jisus mother, just like you did to them, she was angry for a short time, but quickly gave into Jisu’s and Seok Jo’s request to not blame you because it wasn’t your fault, but the systems. After a short discussion on how to proceed further, you and Hoseok finally made your way back to the hotel.

Both of you quietly went into your rooms, and you felt the awkward and tense atmosphere in the whole suite. After you both took a hot bath to warm yourselves up, you went out of your room to get something to drink. You noticed music playing in the living room and curiosity got the best of you. Hoseok was standing at the window with the back to you holding a glass of water in his hand just like you did. Instead of his usual hip hop playlist he was listening to a playlist filled with almost sad sounding music. The song playing that moment – Charlie Puths “Dangerously” – was on one of your playlists too because you related to the lyrics too much. You thought it was ironically fitting to your current situation as well.

“Hoseok?” He flinched a little at the sound of your voice over the music. Turning around, he walked up to you with a smile on his lips that wasn’t quite going to his eyes anymore. He put down your glass and his at the side before taking your hand playfully to make you dance with him.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, although you could see the worry in his eyes. You should’ve rejected him, but you wanted to do it so badly. Swaying with him while one song changed to another felt like heaven to you. It felt so right to be here with him, and you couldn’t help but laugh when he led you into crazy looking spins. He made you lean far back while supporting your lower back just to pull you back. Your forehead almost touched his when you came back up, both of you laughing a little. That was the moment your little dream bubble burst again. His hand went into your hair wanting to pull you in gently, but you pulled away.

“Please, don’t.” you said with your eyes down. A sigh left his mouth before he let go of you completely. He seemed angry, and you felt a sting in your heart when your eyes found his figure again.

“What did I do wrong? Did I do something, or say something that made you hate me all of a sudden? I thought… I thought you liked it too. I thought you liked me.” Hoseok asked you with desperation in his eyes that made your heart break.

“I do! I did. I mean… “ You sighed deeply. “Hoseok, I’m your Implementer. I’m a worker for the office that is supposed to find your perfect partner, and I’m not your perfect partner.”

“But what if you are? You said the system made a mistake so what if you are my real Only?” He took a small step closer to you again.

“That’s impossible. If I was your Only I would’ve gotten a notification all system problems aside. My name would’ve popped up somewhere and someone would’ve noticed.”

“Okay, then so what if you’re not?” He took your hands. “I want to be together with you and no one else!”

“But the computer-“

“To hell with the computer!” He suddenly screamed, making you pull your hands away from him and step back. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t want to raise my voice like that, but not everything is decided with logic, Y/N. In some moments, you just have to listen to your heart no matter how cheesy that may sound. My gut just tells me that you’re the one for me.” He took one of your hands again, but you pulled it away.

“You don’t understand this. This system is here to keep us from always trying and failing to find love. Even if we like each other now maybe in a few years we’ll hate each other, and I just can’t go through this anymore. It’s too painful!” You took a few steps back while talking.

“Y/N, please, I won’t hurt you. I could never hate you!”

“Everyone says that!”

“But I’m not everyone!”

“Who are you then, huh?!”

“I’m Jung Hoseok, and I’ve never fallen for anyone as hard as I did for you, and I know you did too!! Can you please stop denying it?!” You both were yelling at each other now.

“You can’t force me!! Just leave me alone!!!” You screamed at him, completely overwhelmed with this situation because of course he was right. You’ve never loved someone as much as you loved him, but you’ve been trusting the system and only the system for so many years that you couldn’t bring yourself to just trust your gut. You turned around and ran into your room. You just needed to get away from this situation, or else your feelings would overpower you.

“Y/N! Please, I’m sorry for yelling!” He was standing on the other side of your door. Tears started streaming down your face while you slid down the door until you sat on the ground.

“Just go away, please…” You sobbed and within seconds it was quiet. You heard his footsteps walk away from you, and you didn’t hear them come near you again for the whole night.

The next day you drove back to Seoul by yourself. Hoseok left without you in the morning, only leaving behind a small note and a bracelet that looked like the ones they sold at the village market you went by a few days earlier. You sighed, putting on the bracelet anyways since it was the only way to decrease the yearning for him in your heart a little.

A few days passed by, and you were back in your daily life working until late at night. Not having heard from Hoseok, nor having the courage to call him, you walked around like a heartbroken zombie. Even Namjoon noticed something was wrong with you when you went out for lunch together, but he didn’t ask too many questions about it which made you seek his company a lot more lately.

You were still investigating in the Jisu and Hoseok case, and everyone was informed by now that something went wrong there. Suddenly, a week after your return, your phone started ringing.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s SeokJin, could you come to the Finder department in half an hour? It’s about the Jung Hoseok case.” You heard SeokJin’s voice at the other end of the line. Your heartbeat increased immediately when you heard Hoseok’s name making you play with your bracelet.

“Have you found out what happened??” You asked while getting up immediately.

“Yes. We want to talk to you in person about this matter though. Can you come over then?”

“Sure!” You hung up before he could say anything more, and ignored the request to come in half an hour, too restless to wait even another second for the results. You rushed to the Finders department just to find the door of SeokJin’s office opened by a small gap. But you didn’t even need that gap to hear SeokJin yelling angrily at someone.

“What were you thinking?? Hacking yourself into the system just to exchange the names on the paper. Have you gone insane?! Do you know how much damage you could’ve done with this?? What is your damn reason?!”

“I don’t know… When I saw her name there I just- I didn’t think anymore. I blacked out. I didn’t want her to have an Only already…” You knew this voice, but you couldn’t believe what you heard there. You heard SeokJin sigh deeply, and when he spoke this time his voice was quieter.

“Look. Everyone knows how you feel about Y/N, but that doesn’t justify your actions. You exchanged her name for Lee Jisu who was actually partnered with her fiancé of two years. You could’ve destroyed four lives with your selfish actions, and I want you to apologize to everyone and make it right. Am I making myself clear? Just because you’re the grandson of our system developer I can’t go easy on you. This will have consequences even if you confessed yourself.” After hearing all this, your feet moved by itself taking you inside the room. SeokJin’s shocked eyes landed on you immediately followed by the culprits.

“Namjoon…you… you changed it?” His eyes darted down to the floor. He didn’t dare to look up while confirming everything. “H-Hoseok is my Only. And you knew? You erased my name and made me feel like I was crazy for doubting the computer?”

“Y-Y/N I’m so sorry. I just panicked when I saw your name there. I-I know I don’t have a chance with you, but this made it so final I just couldn’t handle it.” Namjoon explained, shaking. He seemed like a wreck, and you just couldn’t stay too angry at him. You took a deep breath to keep yourself composed.

“Is-“ you looked at SeokJin with eyes full of hope. “Is Hoseok really my Only?” SeokJin just smiled apologetically and nodded. You took in a deep breath, walked up to Namjoon and looked into his eyes. “I can’t forgive you right now. But I understand your motives, and I’m not angry at you. Just don’t force me to forgive you right now. I don’t have the strength for that yet. And honestly if I can’t fix this with Hoseok then I don’t know if I want to talk to you again. Now if you excuse me, I need to find my Only.” You turned away, but hesitated for one second turning to Namjoon one more time to give him one punch right in the stomach. He hunched over holding his stomach and started coughing just to laugh a second later.

“Okay yea I deserved that.” He simply said, while smiling in pain up at you which made your mouth corner twitch up for a second too. Next moment you were already rushing out as fast as possible calling Hoseok’s number every few minutes but he didn’t pick up. Figuring that he’s at dance practice you drove to the studio building only to be stopped at the entrance by two men and the receptionist of the front desk.

“I’m sorry but I need to see Jung Hoseok. Is he here? It’s really important!” you explained to her but she just looked at you apologetically.

“I have the instructions not to let anyone upstairs today. I’m really sorry Miss.”

“Can I at least leave a message for him? Please.” You pleaded, and although she looked a little reluctant at first, she took your message for Hoseok which you quickly wrote down on the page of this week from your work calendar and teared it out to give it to her. You hoped Hoseok would call you once he read it.

It was the same day, but later when you were on your way to dance practice. It was the first dance practice for you since your best friend got injured, and you were terrified of going inside and facing all of these people in there. You took a deep breath and with all your courage you made your way inside. You took a place in the back, too afraid of standing in front of everyone. The others were already whispering about you, and you felt your anxiety rise more and more. When the teacher came in you were a little bit relieved, but your anxiety showed in your dancing. He was very unsatisfied with you, and you were about to go out when suddenly a knock was heard on the door.

“I’m sorry I’m late but could I join your dance class for today? I’ll pay, I promise.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was Hoseok still in his full dance gear with his mask on looking just like he always did in his dance videos and it wasn’t just him.

“What do you mean ‘could I’ it should be ‘could we’!” You heard one of the younger ones of Hoseok’s dance team complain.

“And I told you guys to go home.” Hoseok complained while everyone came inside.

“How did you-“ You started, but he just fanned himself with your calendar page – where you also wrote down every practice and the addresses with it – winking at you.

Wow, I was unintentionally smart.

“Oh, that’s actually great. If all of you guys want to join in, we could try a partner dance today! Just go and get yourself a partner.” your instructor called out happily. He seemed thrilled to have some boys in his class for a change. Hoseok immediately took his place next to you. All the girls stared at you two and whispered his name over and over not able to believe it was the J-hope in front of them but you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that he stood right in front of you right now.

“I’ve got my partner already.” Hoseok grinned while sliding off his mask.

“Not just partner. Your One and Only.” With your words Hoseok’s grin became even wider. He couldn’t help himself, and just hugged you tightly which you returned immediately.

“I knew it from the beginning!” He told you, sticking out his tongue at you like a child.

“I know, I know.” You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re never going to let me forget that, huh?”

“Well, at least now you know that you should always trust in my gut. It’s always right.” He grinned down at you. You both were interrupted by your teacher clearing his throat.

“Are you guys done? Now is dance class time. You have enough time to be all lovey-dovey later.” Your teacher nagged at you, but you could see that he wasn’t too serious about it.

“Yes, sir!” Hoseok replied and then leaned to whisper in your ear. “The rest of our lives should be enough time, right?” Normally you would freak at the thought of such a large commitment, but it just felt right this time. A big grin spread on your face before you replied.

“Barely.”

Masterlist

a/n: I hope you liked this quite long OS! It’s the longest one I’ve written on Tumblr so far and I was really nervous to upload it since a lot of work went into it. Share your thoughts with me if you want to! Every interaction no matter if it’s a like or a comment makes me want to keep going and reminds me of how much I love to write. Doesn’t matter how long of a pause was in between I’ll always come back because of the lovely people reminding me that I love to write <3 thank you all for reading!

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sablelab · 4 years

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Covert Operations - Chapter 137

SUMMARY: When new intel comes to light about the mole Frank Wolverton-Randall, Fergus is buoyed by what he discovers. He goes to Madeline’s Office where Section’s leaders are waiting for him, with a progress report and tells Operations and Madeline of his findings and they are gobsmacked to know the identity of the mole in Section. They reflect on their dealings with Frank in order to make sense of his hatred for them as well.

WOO! HOO! I missed my 2 year Anniversary of posting this story at the end of July (Chapter 135(S) ) so I just wanted to give a shout out to all who have at one time or another … ever read one, or more, or all of my chapters over this time, left kudos, a like, a comment, reblogged the chapters or contacted me via a DM. THANK YOU ALL … SO MUCH. Much love to each and every one my readers YAY!

Chapter 136 (S-NSFW) and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations Sorry to say I am not on Ao3, but perhaps when I finish this story I will try and navigate how it works and how to post there.

CHAPTER 137

During the week Fergus Claudel was busy, as usual, at his computer collating any last-minute details in his report for Operations and Madeline about the mole. He wanted to make sure that he had all his t’s crossed and his i’s dotted before he presented the intel to his leaders. He’d been exhausted when he’d eventually left Comm. last night, but he’d certainly slept well knowing that what he had to show his superiors today would be most pleasing to them. Hopefully the Intel would also help reverse his pal’s fiancée’s evaluation status. He was totally convinced that his data would be just what Operations and Madeline were looking for. Absorbed in his task he was unaware that Murtagh Fitzgibbons had walked up behind him. The first indication that he realised that he was not alone was the sound of something being dropped onto his desk and a familiar voice saying, “Open it.” After the initial shock of being crept up on registered in his brain, Fergus looked down at his desk and saw a hard, plastic case containing a computer disk. He picked it up and immediately his eyes lit up when he realized what he held in his hands. The computer geek couldn’t contain his excitement.

“No! … No way!” he exclaimed in shock and excitement. “Yes,” Murtagh replied very pleased that at his buddy’s reaction. Fergus was chuffed at the gift as if his best mate had given him the most precious of items on the top of his wish list. “Oh ... this is awesome!” The older operative was delighted at his friend’s reaction to his surprise gift. “First off the line ... and you can retrain the display ... as much as you want without losing data.” “Oh, wow! Thanks,” Fergus replied unable to stop looking at the gift his buddy had given him. “No ... no, thank you,” Murtagh answered back thinking that it was the least he could do to repay his friend for all the help he had given him. “For what?” Fergus asked realising that no favour he might have done warranted such an awesome gift of thanks. “For Bóinne. Things went great on our date. I also saw this little black cat jewellery box and I knew she’d love it. I couldn't have done it without you amigo.” Suddenly, Murtagh stopped talking and looked behind him when he heard light footsteps and saw the woman, they were discussing approaching.

“Speak of the devil's mistress.” The Med Lab nurse watched the two friends deep in conversation and saw the look on her fiancé’s face which told her that he’d asked Fergus to do something for him. Bóinne could tell by his expressions as Murtagh was an open book for her. She gave him a warm smile and finally came closer.

“There you are honey.” His eyes crinkled in delight at seeing her. “Hi.” Severing their gaze, Bóinne then looked down and smiled at his friend. “Hello Fergus.” He was a little surprised at her attempt to be so nice to him. “What's up?” “Nothing ..., I just stopped by to say hi … and to tell you what a great time we had the other night.” “That’s fantastic.” “Oh, and by the way, I also found this in Med Lab,” Bóinne said handing him a small contraption in a plastic bag. “I was wearing surgical gloves when I discovered it, so I haven’t contaminated it Fergus. Murtagh thought it might be important for you to check out.” Fergus’ brows knitted somewhat when he saw the tiny device she held out in the palm of her hand. He looked at the device then back up at her, “Where did you find this?” “I was preparing one of the beds for a new patient and found it under the gurney in ICU.” “Where Jamie was?” Fergus asked nonchalantly, not wanting to raise any undue concerns. “Yes, it was actually. Why?” “Oh nothing … I’ll check it out and see if it’s anything significant. Did you find any others?” “No … that was the only one.” “Thanks I’ll look into it.” Fergus declared.

He was not at all surprised that he had failed to locate the device when he’d done a sweep. It was small and would have been hard to detect. Obviously Bóinne had smaller hands and perhaps it had dislodged when the bed had been remade or was hidden under the mattress, he thought. Anyway it could be another piece of the puzzle about the mole and if Frank Wolverton-Randall had placed it there then this would be significant if he could find something on the device that would incriminate him. As they were talking, Murtagh happened to look up past Bóinne and saw Operations approaching their way, so he brought the conversation to a swift end whispering to Fergus, “Okay. I’ll see you later. We have a whole day of downtime.” “All right. I really have to finalise my report for Operations and Madeline. See ya.” The two operatives quickly slipped away not wanting to confront their superior especially when they had better things to do on their day off. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus was busily watching the departing couple and didn’t realize that Dougal Mackenzie had walked up to his station and had joined him at his desk. He was a little startled that Section’s leader had approached his station at this time, especially when he was to report to Madeline’s office shortly. He was also a little miffed too that he’d been caught unprepared for his briefing because Murtagh and Bóinne had taken up his time and he hadn’t realised that he was indeed late for the meeting. “Fergus … Madeline is expecting you. What is the hold up?” “Nothing sir. I was just collating any final points for the briefing. I didn’t want to miss anything,” he nervously replied. “And I was just handed something that I must check out as well. It might be an important piece of the puzzle about the mole.” “I see … very well. I’ll inform Madeline that you’ll be another thirty minutes.” “Thank you sir.” “Bring all your data to her office as soon as you can then. We’ll be interested to hear your report.” However, the other reason Operations was there was that he needed Fergus to pull up a different assignment that was imminent, “But first I want you to upgrade another Mission ... the one we're running in Somalia.” “I'll pull the file.” Swinging his chair around, Fergus accessed the information from another computer. Operations then started to give him a quick sketch of what he wanted done. “The Profile calls for an Abeyance Medical Team of five to infiltrate a terrorist compound where insurgents are wounded to gauge the Intel we require on the health of their leader. The Primary Team will carry out the Mission to destroy their headquarters and all medical facilities if he is found to not be there. Send the Abeyance Ops to Murtagh to get their inventory when he returns from his downtime.” “What's the survival likelihood of the Abeyance Team?” Operations gave their IT specialist a “that's a silly question” look, before answering. “Zero.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Once Section’s leader had left his station, Fergus Claudel was left with a problem. Bóinne Rivière’s standing would automatically place her in the Somalia mission. He pulled up her profile and stared at the abeyance standing flashing on the screen. He couldn’t send Murtagh’s fiancée to her death on this mission. Not now … not when his friend was so happy. He had to do something. Making a decision that he hoped would give him enough time to find a way to repeal her termination ranking, Fergus speedily changed her status to the highest level of eight then quickly exited her Profile. He then took the small device she had given him and ran it through his system. To his delighted surprise it came up trumps. “BINGO!” he exclaimed. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Gathering up his evidence, Fergus Claudel made his way to Madeline’s office where he knew that Section’s leaders would be waiting for him with his Intel and a progress report. With a strong belief that the information he’d found and especially from the device so unreservedly given to him without fear of any consequences, he just might also have enough information to change Operations and Madeline’s minds about sending Bóinne Rivière on the Somalia mission. Fergus hoped that what he’d found would please them about the mole in Section and give him some leverage to place a case for the Med Lab nurse’s reclassification and change their minds about her abeyance mission. He had a slim chance but he had to try for Murtagh’s sake. Last night he’d combed the whole system trying to find a connection to any of the operatives in Med Lab and any associated with Jamie and Claire over the past few weeks of the Rising Dragons’ mission. The fact that he’d been able to find anything or anyone who had passed the Intel to Colum and how, was a miracle. Frank Wolverton-Randall had certainly hidden his tampering extremely well and had gone to great pains to cover his tracks, but Fergus had managed to find the link and what Bóinne had given him would certainly be the final nail in his coffin. Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together had not been easy but it was a good thing that he had, because Operations and Madeline were both vulnerable if Intel keep leaking to Oversight. It seemed strange to Fergus that Colum would be keeping tabs on procedures in Section One when he had been debriefed on several occasions, however with a little further digging he’d come to establish a reason why he’d enlisted Frank’s expertise in doing so and it appeared to be personal. Oversight was the board and the only entity Operations had to answer to. It was all tied up in the Rising Dragons’ mission and Oversight’s perception as to how expediently Section was dealing with the triad. It was well known that Colum and Operations were rivals and there was little love lost between the two adversaries. Perhaps Colum was displeased that things were not moving as fast as he had hoped, but then again in his search Fergus had also stumbled across a communiqué from Colum to Mr Lambert which was very revealing as to his motives. Fergus knew that Operations and Madeline would be pleased with what he’d found. He had managed to solve the conundrum of the mole in Section … the ghost mole actually … as the person responsible was not physically present but had still managed to pass on Intel surreptitiously despite being transferred to another substation. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ An apprehensive Fergus Claudel stood on the threshold of Madeline's office with the information firmly in his grasp. She was talking to Operations who was there as well, but when they saw him, they motioned for him to enter. “So Mr Claudel I trust that you bring us good news.” “I’ve made some progress sir.” “Excellent.” “We’re listening,” Section’s leader stated pricking up his ears in the hope that the mystery would finally be solved. “Please inform us to your findings. What did you discover?” Madeline instructed leaning on her desk. Although he was a little nervous, Fergus began his briefing to his superiors on his results and gave them a status report on his findings. “I ran an inventory of all the possible people who may have been involved as a possible mole in passing Intel to Colum at Oversight and I checked out all the people on your list as well.” “And?” “Zero … Dr Foster and Bóinne Rivière came up clean and although both had tremendous access to Med Lab, there is nothing to indicate that they were involved.” “Hayes and Lesley?” “Likewise.” “So you’re telling us that all of them came up clean?” “Yes sir… I was also unable to find any surveillance cameras or listening devices in Med Lab.” “I thought you said you had something for us Claudel … this is not what I hoped you would find.” Before they could protest some more, Fergus continued, “But … I have now come into the possession a small mechanism that was discovered in Med Lab by nurse Bóinne Rivière. I have just run it through the system. It confirmed my suspicions and gives us concrete evidence of the perpetrator. Without her finding the device I only had my gut feeling and supposition to go on. She was invaluable and is, I believe, totally innocent and loyal to the Section or else she would have disposed of the device instead of handing it over to me,” he added glowingly for extra clarification. Operations heard his statement about Bóinne Rivière but chose not to respond to it, instead he stated, “Go on.” “It was a sophisticated, minute listening device that was attached to James Fraser’s bed in ICU. I ran a fingerprint on it and I found something very interesting.” “Get to the point Fergus.” “I said I’d found no one suspicious but … there is one exception. The fingerprint showed up a match. I narrowed it down to one prime suspect.” That information whetted their appetite. Operations was all ears. “Who?” “A person in another substation but no longer in Section.” “Cut to the chase Fergus … who is it?” Section’s leader insisted as if he had little time for the mundane facts he’d given them already. He wanted something concrete … and he wanted it now! “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” Fergus blurted out. “Who?” Operations exclaimed incredulously but it made sense given their history and how he’d transferred him away from Systems and Fergus. “Frank Wolverton-Randall,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” his superior barked turning to face Madeline with anger in his eyes.

This was certainly a surprise. Madeline took a seat behind her desk thinking that Wolverton-Randall had had little contact with medical or the Rising Dragons mission that they knew of since he’d been transferred to another sector just after Jamie and Claire arrived back from the retrieval Mission. Operations looked at his second in command. “Didn’t Colum specifically ask for Frank to be transferred?” “He did … and we were only too glad to see the back of him. Do you remember?” Madeline added. “Yes … I do.” Operations stated with disdain. He was livid at the underhand tactics Colum had used. He realised that his brother must have planned this all along and was just waiting for his chance to discredit them by using Frank as his mole especially given his knowledge of Section. Fergus waited and listened to the exchange between the two leaders before continuing with his findings. “I raked the system, all of it and I cross-correlated every piece of data on Wolverton-Randall I could find. Once I was able to solve the deeply hidden channel code that I discovered, it all made sense that he was the person responsible.” “How is that possible when he is no longer in Section but at our substation?” “I believe he did have time to set this scam up before he was transferred. He was my main focus because he is the only person who could manage to infiltrate sensitive files about operatives and then pass this Intel on to Colum.” “But why him? Why Frank Wolverton-Randall? Did he approach Colum or he was approached?” Ever pragmatic Madeline gave Operations the answer. “Several reasons Dougal. Think about it … Frank has a number of personal motives for being Colum’s mole and he had the expertise to pull off such a coup. He has the computer knowledge on the same scale as Fergus and he has ulterior reasons to find your brother’s proposition advantageous to seek retribution against us.”

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

“Not only that, but Colum knew that Frank had animosity towards you and I. He made a bargain with the devil for sure with both parties benefiting from this collaboration. It would be a win-win for your brother too if he could discredit us but you in particular Dougal. He has always had an axe to grind over Letitia’s unexplained disappearance and I would suggest that he blames you for that. After all you did take over Section One when no trace of her was found.”

Dougal Mackenzie took stock of what his second in command had stated and what Madeline said made sense. They now had to come up with a plan to put a stop to it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank Wolverton-Randall was the mole! Fergus’ information raised a number of plausible scenarios in Madeline and Operations’ mind as to why the operative had done what he’d done, and they both in their own way, reflected on what would also provide motives for his deception.

Operations recalled the circumstances under which they’d dealt with Frank when he’d been recruited at such an early age. It was a catch twenty-two situation. Wolverton-Randall was young but he was smart and Section One needed him, however, it was his stupidity and the invincibility of youth that had been his downfall. It was obvious that Frank would have a personal vendetta against him for being brought into Section One. The young man’s rebelliousness and seditious attitude because he was incarcerated away from his mother and father would be legitimate grounds for him to have a special grudge against them as well.

Section’s leader remembered their conversation as if it had happened only yesterday.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, go to Hell! Where am I exactly? Stupid City? I want to talk to the man in charge!” "I am the man in charge." With the irreverence of youth Frank’s reply to him had been derisive and sarcastic. "You couldn't be in charge of my crotch." It had taken less than a minute for the young upstart to get the better him, a man who had kept his cool under the most trying conditions. He realised then and there that he would be a thorn in their side but they needed him and that was that. He didn’t have to like the lad. He saw nothing funny about their teenaged guest. Frank Wolverton-Randall was dismissive, cocky and was not afraid when he was brought to his office. His disregard for authority was apparent and he saw everything as a challenge regardless of the consequences. His body language showed that he didn’t fear or feel threatened by the leader of Section One which totally ticked him off. The thought that he could make almost every captured target and operative in Section shake in fear, but couldn’t faze a teenager was galling. He’d taken great delight in telling the youth that he would not be leaving Section. But in his inimitable way the lad was unimpressed. “Unfortunately ..., this place cannot tolerate mistakes. You've seen that.” “Spare me the lecture, Old Folks. Are you going to let me go or not?” “No, we're not.” He’d smiled realising that he had the upper hand over the teenager that was until Frank snookered him in his arrogant manner knowing that he would release him or else he would not fix the problem he had created in Comm. “Hmmm. You may want to reconsider that.” “And why would I want to do that?” “Ask Fergus.” It was obvious that the recalcitrant youth had set up some sort of a virus in their system. He’d stared at Frank for a moment, then walked over to his window where he had a clear view of Comm. and Fergus in the middle of a multiple anomaly because the decoded sequence was generating a virus that was bleeding into the system. Wolverton-Randall’s cocky and boastful reply was the last straw. “I might be able to fix that for you.” He immediately realised that Frank, who was wearing a very smug expression on his face, knew about the possibility of a virus before he’d left on his little sight-seeing tour of Section and knew that it was his get out of jail card if he needed it. But of course that hadn’t eventuated and the tables had indeed been turned on the lad with Section’s subterfuge when Frank thought he was home and hosed and going back to his parents. Operations understood that Section’s double jeopardy alone by reneging on their agreement was enough reason for him to side with Colum in his vendetta against him in particular and Section One.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Madeline also internalised what Fergus had told them about Frank Wolverton-Randall.

She remembered vividly when he came into Section and was cognizant of his tender age but his mental prowess was undeniable. There was no denying that the lad was a genius in his field, so what Fergus had told them was entirely feasible. But Operations was far from happy with the Intel about his compatibility to life in Section and it was not what he had wanted to hear when they had discussed the youth.

“What about Wolverton-Randall Madeline?” “I'm working on an integration program.” “What’s his survival likelihood?” “Over 92 percent, actually ... He's a surprisingly good match.” Section’s head strategist remembered sitting at her desk observing the lad on her monitor. Operations was standing behind her, also staring at the scene. He’d leaned down to get a closer look at Wolverton-Randall and had watched as Claire left Frank to amuse himself. She noticed his 'realignment' of the computer hardware and wiring and had brought up Fergus Claudel's Profile on the monitor to prove that he was capable of accessing their files to ally his boredom while he was waiting to be told why he was there. Her observation of his behaviour was very telling. “Fergus? Fergus Claudel. Age - twenty-one; one hundred thirty-five pounds; 20-80 vision; SYSTEMS ADMINISTRATION for every host on this Local Area Network. Should I continue?” Madeline had acknowledged his skill but only because they had let him. “We've let you roam through an outer, non-secured area of the network to give you something to do." “Gee, thanks. You think I can't dig deeper?” His scornful reply was soon silenced by her ice-cold demeanour. She’d turned from distant and kind to threatening. Moving closer to Frank he’d immediately felt her intrusion into his personal space which was exactly what she had wanted him to feel. But more importantly, Wolverton-Randall soon realised that her threatening tone left no illusions in his mind … she meant what she had said. Frank, being the bright genius that he was, picked up that this woman was dangerous and he needed to tread lightly. “If you did ... and by some fluke ... happened on to something, classified ... You'd never go home again. ... Never see your family again. ... Your life would be over.” For a brief moment their eyes held a type of holding war. Then her warning delivered, she’d returned to her 'distant and kind' impersonation and Frank was slightly intimidated. “We've gone to a great deal of trouble to protect you, don't work against us Frank. We need you to break a code.” “What if I don't do it?” Her threat … “You'll do it,” and her cold stare had left him in no doubt that she meant exactly what she said and there would be no deviation whatsoever. Frank was facing a personality that he had never had to face before. She was someone intelligent enough to realize his potential, but cold enough not to be more lenient due to his age. She was a formidable woman and Frank knew when to listen and do what he was told. A slight smile bowed her lips recalling this incident, but her thoughts soon turned to others involved in Frank Wolverton-Randall’s incarceration. Perhaps he also had a grudge against Claire Beauchamp and James Fraser as well given that they were the ones that captured him and brought him into Section. That could explain his helping Colum with Intel about them from the mission as well. If he was able to destabilise the operatives crucial to the Rising Dragons’ mission then he would have accomplished his job … to sabotage the mission for the head of Oversight … or for his own retribution against Section One. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d gone back on her word. Frank may have perceived this as a lie which had left him in Section One against his will with no chance of returning to the life he once had, or more importantly to his mother and father. “I’m sorry we had to do this, Frank. We need your assistance for a short time ..., then you'll be safely returned.” All Colum’s platitudes about them doing so well were obviously just a ploy in the early phase of the Rising Dragons’ mission so that when the end game was near, Colum then would put in motion his plan … whatever that was and for whatever his reasons were. More than likely his motives were because of his lost love Letitia and Dougal’s succession under suspicious circumstance as she’d already alluded to with him. Colum had never come to grips with the disappearance of his love … Section One’s founder … and if he knew that Dougal was in any way involved then he would seek vengeance on his brother. That could very well explain his skulduggery in involving Frank as a mole hoping to find a link between her vanishing and Operations more so than the triad per se.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Section’s leaders each had cause to reminisce on Frank Wolverton-Randall but were also interested in Fergus’ take on the young man and his reasons for thinking that he was Colum’s mole. “Go on.” “I've worked with him. But I never trusted him.” “Surely this is just sour grapes on your behalf?” Operations interjected but not entirely convinced by the young techie’s answer. He realised that Frank had kept Fergus on his toes and had come into Section because their IT mastermind couldn’t solve the problem.

Was he just saying this because he was better than him and this was what riled him? Did he still have self-esteem problems over the computer genius’ methods?

Fergus realised what Operations was alluding to and he vehemently denied this assumption. “Of course not! He's the only one who could have gotten through for Colum like he did. I found something that I’m sure is how the Intel was passed on to him.”

“Continue.” “I re-routed a deep channel and found an interesting anomaly. It would appear that Frank Wolverton-Randall has the expertise to monitor our systems even from afar. After Bóinne Rivière gave me the mechanism, she’d found that I’d missed in my search, I re-scanned the Med Lab computers and I found a suspicious tag on Dr. Foster’s workstation computer that held Claire and Jamie’s medical history while they were in Med Lab … It was a programme piggy backing off his case files.” “So he could access their progress without us even knowing. Is that what you are saying Fergus?” “Yes. That's right.” “Let me get this clear … what you’re telling us is that Frank Wolverton-Randall would be able to access these medical files when they were open and then pass that Intel on to Colum without anyone knowing.” “Precisely. I've unlocked a half dozen security two files as well. Each contains a treasonous breach which would result in immediate cancellation. They're all linked to Frank by an iris match. He set up an elaborate system that was not easily detected and he went to a lot of trouble to cover his tracks.” Operations leaned on Madeline’s desk with a thought provoking look on his face. Madeline too had a similar disposition. “Explain.” “That's the scary part. He’s been beta testing the software … working out the kinks. Frank used an unusual code, but I remembered the similarities to when he first came into Section One for that very purpose to solve the complex code. He was the only one who had any idea how to approach that thing. This one had elements of that code that Frank had initially solved. It has his footprint all over it. Methods used to decipher it had been implemented in reverse so no one would suspect or be able to find the decryption to decode it. It was difficult but I did it … and voila … it linked to Wolverton-Randall totally.” “I see.” “There is one other damming thing that you may be interested in.” Fergus had already given them enough Intel to ponder and they were surprised that there could possibly be more explosive information. “What is it?” He took a deep breath before uttering, “Colum has been keeping tabs on the Rising Dragons’ missions and in particular Jamie and Claire’s success. He also has been collating data on the disappearance of the founder of Section One, Letitia Chisholm. ” The look on Operations face was incredulous. He couldn’t believe what Fergus had just said. “He’s doing what?!?” “How is that possible?” Madeline added perplexed. “A lot is possible if Frank Wolverton-Randall is involved it would seem,” was Operations terse reply.

“Thank you, Fergus, … I think I have a lot to discuss with Operations. You have been most thorough.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Tuesday 11th August.

#jamieandclairecrossover #Jamieandclairefanfic #the lallybroch library #outlander fanfic #covert operations #sablelab #LFNoutlander #jamieandclaireau

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brokenjardaantech · 3 years

Text

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Prologue: A mistake or accidental prophet?)

my entry for the 2020 @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series

pairings: hankcon, minor male ryder/reyes vidal

major warning: canon-typical violence

additional warnings will be provided before individual chapters.

summary:

In 2028, rumours emerged that Sara Ryder, inventor of androids and co-founder of Cyberlife, disagreed with her father Alec Ryder, another co-founder of the company, over the direction the company was heading. Speculations were rendered pointless as the younger Ryder disappeared off the grid after thousands were killed in an explosion outside Detroit, the site which later became a dumping ground for abandoned or damaged androids. A few days after Alec took over CyberLife, reports of androids breaking away from their programming started to emerge, and for a decade, it was CyberLife's best-kept secret.

In 2038, Connor, an RK-series prototype, began development under Ryder's supervision and was released in August in the same year as Cyberlife's last resort towards the deviancy crisis. Rumours among CyberLife employees put someone else as the lead of the RK800/900 project, and although the company goes through extensive measures to dispel the rumour, it somehow manages to reach the Detroit Police Department. It is with this rumour in mind that Lieutenant Hank Anderson is partnered with the same android in question.

Little do they know that the revolution brewing on the horizon is just the beginning.

also on ao3

---

Before

A gloomy figure left shadows in their wake as they swept through the brightly-lit corridor of a hospital, the click of combat boots against smooth floor clearly audible as the voices in the hall died down. Most only noted the person’s threatening posture and boiling expression and bolted out of their way fearing consequences; little did they know that had they paused to take a better look, they would have noticed how young they were - too young to be wearing such hatred on their face.

They stopped abruptly in front of a door with a sharp snap of their feet, and their hand shot out of their pocket towards the knob but froze with the sharp yell of a nurse. A roll of their eyes. Turned to face the nurse.

‘Visitors are limited to family members only,’ the nurse explained as she closed the last bit of distance between them. Then it clicked. ‘You didn’t register at the front desk?’

‘My brother has been asking for me for days. Ask the front desk. I gave them my name.’

A slight flinch from the harsh tone. ‘I’m sorry, but I still need to confirm your identity. It’s for the patient’s protection.’

The figure huffed. From the smirk on their face, it might have been a silent laugh. They reached into their coat with their teeth grinding. ‘Your ID?’

The nurse looked taken aback. ‘I believe you should be the one presenting identification.’

‘Like you said, “it’s for the patient’s protection”,’ they parroted. ‘How can I be certain that you are an actual nurse but not another spy sent by someone who will bring him harm?’

A pause. The nurse looked away for a second as if to think of the best course of action, but this split second is enough for the person to twist the knob and slide into the ward, the slam of something against the wall indicated that they somehow managed to also barricade it from the inside. The nurse banged her fist on the door in a futile effort of protest before dashing away to get backup.

Inside the room was another atmosphere in its entirety, however, and would have been peaceful if not for the muffled hustle and bustle from the hallway. The blinds were pulled down, the lights were dimmed, the monitor was muted; everything to guarantee that the boy lying on the bed slept undisturbed. He was wearing a green beanie even in his sleep, and next to his head was a small stuffed toy which was rubbed against and clutched when he opened his eyes.

‘Sister?’ he asked the person who had broken into his room.

The sister sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her brother’s cheek. All the anger on her face was gone. ‘I’m here, brother,’ she said. Her thumb swiped against the bottom of his eye and came back wet. ‘I bought us a few minutes to talk.’

Her brother’s face scrunched up. ‘I’m sorry,’ tears started flowing freely down his face and into the pillow and the stuffed toy. ‘I didn’t mean to -’

‘The fault does not lie on you,’ she took out a handkerchief and dabbed his face. ‘It was a reckless move, but I doubt you have another choice.’

‘I -’ a hitch in his breath. ‘I don’t want to go.’

‘I know. I am here to take you away.’

‘You can’t. Baba is -’

‘If you think I care about what he thinks, you are sorely mistaken,’ she stood. ‘Is there anything you want to bring with you from the apartment?’

The brother hesitated. ‘Can I show you later?’

His sister’s face turned blank. ‘Of course,’ she said in a lacklustre tone. It was obvious that she did not want to do so. ‘I need to take care of something. Will be right back.’

‘Okay.’

She turned around and closed her eyes. A deep breath. Glowing wisps of blue emerges from her spine, then from her head, then finally from all over her body, and her eyes were swathed in the same blue glow when she reopened them. She raised her hand.

A blue sphere appeared in front of the desk barricading the door and knocked it away.

The same nurse from before entered. ‘You could’ve told me that you’re here to discharge your brother!’ she said accusingly. ‘There was no need for that hostility. And you shouldn’t even be -’

She was interrupted by the sister shoving a stack of paper towards her chest.

‘Then shut the fuck up and do your damned job.’

oOoOo

Now

Androids have always unnerved Captain Louis ‘Lou’ Allen, but for a very different reason people normally expect. For years after their mass production, he could feel an unexplained buzzing in his nerves, one that, throughout his limited childhood, he had learnt to associate with ‘shit randomly exploding around him’. Now that Anna’s… gone to space, there was no one else in the world to vouch for him, telling him that yes, his feelings are valid, and that he isn’t imagining the hum coursing through his body whenever an android comes close.

Not anymore, though. Ever since he became half-bot and perhaps half-immortal, not once has the buzz returned, which was more of an inconvenience than anything; before, he could predict whether shit was about to go downhill and be responsible and warn people, but now, there was never enough time to vacate a room before, say, the screen of a monitor cracks on its own and shatters into thousands of pieces.

The negotiator CyberLife sends almost brings back the unpleasant buzz. This android - RK800, if its - his? - jacket is to be believed - is too harmless-looking for a model designed to hunt and kill other androids who break away from their programming and the most advanced prototype CyberLife has to offer. His voice is pleasant enough, but that only makes Lou’s spine tingle and threaten to charge the air with static; a sign he has learnt to watch for before an outburst. He hides a deep inhale, listens to the android’s - Connor’s - question, and faces him when he realises that Connor won’t go away anytime soon unless he actively does something.

‘Listen, saving that girl is all that matters,’ he tells the android. The twitch of his face only slips the situation into a whole new level of uncanny valley. Since when did CyberLife allow so much life on their androids? ‘So either you deal with this fucking android now, or I’ll take care of it.’

And it’s so typical CyberLife, isn’t it? Lou thinks as he grabs his rifle and kneels behind a toppled, bullet-ridden table his team has been using for cover. There’s a girl’s life at stake, and there they are, thinking that this is a prime time to test their newest prototype as if actual human lives are merely tools they can use whenever, whatever, however. Just like my own, he thinks bitterly as the place where human flesh meets pure cybernetics aches from hunching over the desk for too long. Scrap that, cybernetics were weaved into his very muscles and nerves and changed him fundamentally, and CyberLife didn’t let him know until years after the operation. It wasn’t even someone within the company -

So anyways. Fuck CyberLife. Fuck their monopoly on the android market. Fuck them for playing god.

But orders are orders and Allen received explicit ones telling him to not interfere unless the android looks like he’s gonna fuck up, so he doesn’t have much choice but to piece everything together through comm chatter and the images from the drones flying over the patio. Whoever is in charge of creating this android, he sure as fuck hopes that they made him knowing what he’s doing.

o0o0o

A few hours later in the relative safety of his office, Lou reads over the report compiled by his people. One of the men shot down by the deviant is, thankfully, alive and recovering, but the other had drowned in the swimming pool long before they were able to do anything. He told the others to go home first, giving them enough time to digest what the fuck just happened in the penthouse, but stayed in the precinct himself just to - just to go home with everything settled. Leaving a job unfinished always makes him anxious and unable to relax at home, especially when people die under his watch, and the numb calmness of the recipient of the call - the man’s fiancé, if Lou remembers correctly - chased away what remaining sleep he is going to have for the night.

And the face. The person who came to collect Connor’s bullet-riddled body. The flickering skin above black metallic plates brushing against his armoured thigh where his cybernetics acted up from his little magic stunt. He never thought he would see them again, but well - he’s not a prophet, no fucking he is not. No more sleep for him tonight.

That is when he notices a line near the end of the report. Android took Officer Antony Deckart’s service weapon and violated P.L. 544-7 American Androids Act. Request to tighten programming to prevent further incidents, it writes, and it makes him think of the other house he has that he’s been letting… people use as a safehouse. Switching tabs, he examines the footage from the hostage situation once more. Connor had, indeed, taken the gun and even admitted to it when questioned by the deviant, but it only served to gain its trust when he threw it away. He broke protocol only to accomplish his mission, and in the end no one was harmed except for the deviant who had killed two officers. And Connor himself.

It is a tricky scenario, yes, but Lou can do tricky. Connor was just doing what he was supposed to, right?

He highlights the segment and deletes it. He deletes the previous versions of the file as well just in case CyberLife are thorough bastards, and whoever made him, Connor seemed… like an asset. Lou would hate to see all the effort go to waste.

I better not regret this.

o0o0o

As much as Lou wants to stay in bed and sleep with a cat on his chest, debriefing is still something he must do, so the next morning he finds himself facing a bunch of rebellious SWAT members who are too curious about the negotiator they didn’t manage to properly meet yesterday night.

‘That was his trial. Nothing more, nothing less. The android proved himself to be useful under situations like this. That’s all I need to say,’ he repeats for the umpteenth time. ‘I don’t think we’ll have any more missions with him, so stop asking questions. You won’t need them anyway.’

‘It was plastered all over the news, Captain,’ the newest addition to the team - Shum - says. ‘It’s CyberLife’s newest prototype created by Ryder himself. You can’t fault us for wanting to know more.’

Jim smacks her on the back of her head. ‘Led by Ryder, yes, but you can’t build an android like that alone, Shum.’

Not with the current staff CyberLife has, Lou says to himself. But he saw her. He knows. ‘Alec Ryder isn’t capable of this shit.’

‘Who else can it be, then?’ someone else - Nelson, if he remembers correctly - asks.

‘I don’t know.’ How can they have such short-term memories? ‘There’s one other Ryder on the table and she’s supposed to be dead.’

‘Wait, you mean Sara Ryder? As in the guy who got kicked out ten years ago?’

Lou gives them his best ‘who else can it be?’ look, and it is what successfully shuts everyone up.

What game are you playing this time, Ryder?

#dbh au big bang #female ryder #male ryder #dbh connor #dbh captain allen #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

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hiiraism4 · 4 years

Text

MLQC Song Fic : That XX

You know what to do : Listen while reading this

youtube

Pairing : GavinxReader, GavinxMC

Tag : …..enduring feelings (part2), hurt, comfort, MC being stubborn

Words : 3150 (...it’s long i know, bear with me)

Gavin, having feelings to you but had to endure more since you got someone else. But what if Gavin knew that your boyfriend was a bastard?

[Continuation from : Keep it Under]

Gavin smiled in satisfaction, with such pride with his own self when he just got out from the bakery with a box filled with warm cookies in his hand. He took out his phone, scrolling until he found a name he was so familiar with. Gavin’s smiled got even wider when he imagined the one who would receive the cookies, smiled receiving the the little present from him.

You always liked cookies anyway.

For a certain bakery.

That always sold before noon.

Gavin felt the struggle he had to sacrifice for him to came really early in the morning to get the cookies would be worth it. Fortunately the bakery’s close enough to your shooting location so he walked to you. Gavin already memorized your schedule for that day. The officer would come when he had time to visit you. It was like a routine for him.

(I was walking down the street

When I saw your man

Yeah I saw him

I saw that my hunch was right

I told you he took off the ring you gave him

And linked his arm around someone

I’ll just leave it at that

I don’t wanna hurt you)

Gavin stopped when he passed with a couple beside him. He whipped around in an instant. Knowing the familiar man he just passed by. The girl link her arm to his, like a normal couple. But the thing was, Gavin knew too well that the man’s girlfriend wasn’t the girl who was walking with him right now. Even just for a split second, Gavin saw the man’s finger. The ring wasn’t there.

The ring that was supposed to be in his finger, the couple ring Gavin knew well.

Why?

Because Gavin accompanied you when you bought the ring.

That man--Chandler, was your boyfriend. And the girl who was walking with him was not you. And Gavin knew too well the direction of that man and girl walked into.

Love hotel? Really? Gavin gulped down his own hatred.

Gavin’s mood turned sour and he hurriedly walk from the street to meet you as soon as possible, gritting his teeth and held the paper bag in his hand tightly. How many times has it been actually? When you dating Chandler? Was it 2 years?

(But you actually get mad at me

Why?

Saying that there’s no chance of that happening, sure you’re right

I became aware of you being upset

And I said I must have seen wrong

That’s right, I’ll lie for you

I’m sorry)

“You what?” you asked Gavin as you took the paper bag from him.

“I saw Chandler on the street, on my way here.” Gavin paused. “With a girl.” the older man said bitterly.

You crunched your nose as you bit the cookies. You shook your head. “No, that’s not true. You must see it wrong.” you took out your phone, showing Gavin the chat you had with the bastard--Chandler. “He’s out of town for a work and he just sent me a pict of him with his colleagues, preparing themselves for a meeting.”

Gavin’s eyebrow knitted in disbelief, staring at the lovey dovey conversation made him sick to his gut. That bastard, how many photos he had in stock to fool you?

“You must see wrong person.” you said again.

But i haven’t told you that he took off your ring and walking to a love hotel at that.

“I’ll call him.” you said, dialing Chandler, putting it on speaker.

“Hey honey.” you smiled. Making Gavin’s heart boiled in jealousy inside the stoic face he had on his face. “Where are you right now?” you asked.

“I’m still at the meeting babe, i’ll call you asap okay?” Chandler’s voice sounded rough and whispery. “Love you.”

The call ended.

“See? There’s no way Chandler would cheat on me, Gavin. How dare you accused him like that!” you folded your hand and glared at Gavin. You were upset, and Gavin felt bad about it.

“...You’re right. Maybe i saw the wrong person. I’m sorry.” Gavin surrendered.

Just this once, this once i’ll lie to you. Gavin exhaled.

(You look happy when you talk about him

At least when you’re smiling like this,

You look good, i’m happy

You say that you really love him

That it’s going to last forever

You believing this

I don’t know what to say no more)

“And then we went to the aquarium. He was such a gentleman--”

Gavin took you out for lunch nearby your office since Gavin dropped by for one of your show and he was your guest. Along the way you talked about the date you had with Chandler. You were happy, ecstatic even, when you told Gavin about Chandler. The officer could see the spark in your eyes, the love you had for the man Gavin began to despise.

“It’s good to see you’re smiling like this.” Gavin said out loud, but he couldn’t take it back. You paused to stare at Gavin and the officer just cover his face because he knew that his face went red.

“It’s because i love him, Gavin.” you said. “I really hope that we would go even further, you know? Like introducing him to my relatives. This way you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore.” you added, smiling.

Gavin felt like his heart paused for a second.

“I always feel bad for dragging you like that. You must be uncomfortable when you had to meet my aunt and uncle.” you said, looking at Gavin with sympathy.

Gavin felt like there was a big lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow. He never mind to pretend to be your boyfriend. He even enjoyed the company of your uncle and aunt. He always like it when they pat his back and asked him to come to their home at least once a year on lunar new year.

“I believe my big family will accept Chandler like they accepted you too. Who knows, maybe they even grant us their blessing and we’ll get married?”

Gavin’s heart sank.

“I don’t know what to say.” Gavin’s tone turned sad. And you tilted your head, didn’t understand why.

(All of your friends know him well

Yup they know

Why are you the only one who can’t see what everyone else sees?

It’s you

They say love is blind oh baby you so blind

I beg you, please break up with him)

That one night, Gavin went to a bar with Minor after work. Gavin didn’t refuse as he needed a booze to clear his mind. Earlier that day he saw Chandler again. With another girl in his arms. They were lovey dovey and even kissed each other’s cheek on the street like it was nothing. The officer couldn’t even stop to catch the bastard since he was on his shift and he had to meet his superior in the police department. Gavin was still deep in thought until Minor dragged him to sit beside a group of girls.

“What should we do to make her realize?” Willow sighed as she drank her champagne.

“You can’t, Willow. Our boss is too blinded by love that he just dismissed all of our warnings as something offensive.” Anna waved her hand.

Gavin stared at Willow and Anna in disbelief. Minor sat beside those two and he nodded furiously, agreeing to what they just said. “Right?! You guys saw that bastard too walking with a girl on the street, right?!” Minor pitched in, clearly annoyed with their boss.

“Don’t you think so, Gavin? I know that you’ve been trying to warn her over and over.” Anna looked sympathetically at Gavin.

“What? Seriously? Even she wouldn’t hear to Gavin?” Willow said in disbelief.

Gavin finally responded, by a small shook on his head. “No, she was even angry to me when i tried to tell her last time.” Gavin said.

“This is ridiculous. And what’s more? She wants to bring that bastard to her relative’s house next week, to introduce him!” Minor added. All heads whipped to Minor, including Gavin, stared at his friend with almost his jaw dropped.

“What? How come you didn’t tell me?” Gavin asked.

“That’s why i drag you here with me, Gav! To tell you and the others about this!” Minor clenched his fist, followed by Anna’s and Willow’s sigh.

“I knew that guy was up to no good when i saw him walking with another woman. I even took photo of him but you know what? She dismissed it! Saying that girl was his cousin! I mean, what kind of cousin who would walk hand in hand like that?” Willow showed the photo on her cellphone for the group to see.

“She’s too blinded by love.” Anna sighed.

Gavin stared at the photo with his heart boiled inside his head. Like he wanted to explode, wanted to scream at you that Chandler wasn’t a good man. That Chandler was just toying with you. Gavin couldn’t even keep his feelings buried deep any longer.

That night, Gavin closed his eyes, hoping that you would break up with him.

And that officer would do anything to make it happen.

(Oh I hate you for not knowing me

I hate this waiting

Please let go of his hand now

When you’re sad,

I only feel like dying, baby

What can that bastard do that I can’t?

Exactly why can’t you have me?

That bastard doesn’t love you

Until when are you only going to cry like a fool?)

Smack!

A slap landed on Gavin’s cheek. The officer stared at you in disbelief, he held his stung left cheek, hurt by your slap, hurt because you wouldn’t believe him.

Gavin was coming to your apartment. His sole main reason was when he was worried that you were sad these days. You told Gavin that you couldn’t reach Chandler these days, right before the day both you and him would meet your relatives. You also told Gavin that Chandler was being cold and distant. That you were crying because he could leave you hanging for days, which he never did before. So Gavin took the opportunity to tell you, again.

That Chandler was not a good man.

That Chandler was never loyal to you like you do to him.

That guy had been hanging around with several different girls. One of those photo showed him kissing another girl at a bar.

Gavin asked Minor’s help to snap some pictures and here he was. Instead of finally listen to what he had to say, you slapped him. Even before Gavin could show you the photos he printed out for you to see.

“You’re lying! There’s no way Chandler would do that!” you screamed at Gavin.

Gavin was silent, only staring at you as his surprised face calmed down. Almost at the point Gavin was angry, he was so fed up with you being like this. If he got a slap for telling you the truth, he’s rather have it. As long as you got the truth.

“I thought we were friends, Gavin! How would you badmouth my boyfriend? Why would everyone badmouth him!” you spat.

(Yeah

Expensive cars, pretty clothes

Classy restaurants

They suit you well

But that ‘x’ next to you really isn’t it

He does not suit you at all

In front of you, he fake smiles

He touches your cheeks and hair

But inside, he is definitely

Thinking of some other girl

How could he do that?

It’s like a sin)

“Because he is. He is bad.” Gavin replied, almost immediately.

You were taken aback by Gavin’s reply. “No! He wouldn’t do things to hurt me!” you said, in brink of tears as your eyes glistened.

Gavin took your hand, handing you the photos he kept in his backpack. “Until when? Until when you’re going to deny the truth? The proof’s right here. Everyone’s been telling you, warned you.” Gavin said, almost too calmly.

You threw the photos away and it fell to the grey carpet of your living room. You saw the photos scattered, showing that Chandler was walking with another girl, being intimate with another girl. You finally broke into sobs as you kneeled to the carpet. Gavin kneeled in front of you, slowly placed his hand on your shoulder. Seeing you cry always hurt him, but Gavin couldn’t take any more waiting.

“You deserve everything. You deserve happiness. Not this kind of betrayal. He faked everything and i’m sure...you got the hint of it by how cold he is right now to you.” Gavin said.

“Please just leave, Gavin.” you said between your sobs.

Gavin frowned. Not this again. Not this ‘shutting him out’ attitude again.

“Please.” your beg has finality in its own and Gavin couldn’t help but obey.

“If anything happen, you know you can always call me.” Gavin said as he patted your head and walked outside your apartment, felt heavy and so wrong for leaving you crying alone.

But

Please let go of his hand. The evidences are enough.

(As much as the tears you’ve shed,

I’ll treat you better baby

The pain you handle by yourself,

Will you share some with me baby?

Just look at me,

Why don’t you know that your love is me?

Why are you the only one who doesn’t know?)

“Hey, what’s up?” Gavin asked as he answered a call from you.

Silence.

“Hello?” Gavin could only hear rain sounds pouring heavily.

“Gavin…” your weak voiced made Gavin’s heart clenched. But the second he heard you crying, Gavin suddenly stood up. Eli, who was in Gavin’s house, looked at him confused as he browsed through the reports both of them had to deal with.

“Where are you right now? I’ll pick you up.” Gavin asked as he reached his coat rack and put on his hoodie.

“....i’m sorry, Gavin.” you said between your sobs. “I really am sorry.” your crying didn’t make anything better.

“Ssshhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Now tell me, where are you?” Gavin asked as he reached his shoes cabinet.

“At the bus stop near your apartment. It-it’s okay, you don’t need to pick me up. I’ll be there in a minute.” you said weakly, which of course, Gavin didn’t buy it.

“No, it’s a storm outside, you’ll catch a cold.” Gavin said firmly as he caught umbrella and another coat thrown by Eli.

“Then...then i’ll wait here.” you said. “Okay, i’ll be there in a minute. Wait for me.” Gavin said as he hung up the call.

“I’ll take my leave as well then.” Eli said as he put on his shoes beside Gavin. “Don’t worry about the report, i’ll send you the rest when i’m done with my part.” Eli added.

“Thanks, Eli. I owe you one.” Gavin nodded.

“Treat me lunch tomorrow then.” Eli grinned. “Oh and, don’t take advantage of a broken heart maiden. I know you’re dying to see her after a week of her ignoring your chat and calls.”

Gavin muttered annoyed noise as Eli laughed, teleporting himself from Gavin’s apartment.

Gavin ran outside his apartment with umbrella in his hand, trying to searched for you. But his step stopped when he found you, sitting in the corner of the street while hugging your knees as tears poured down to your head. Your whole body was drenched by rain and Gavin could clearly see your shoulder shook as you sobbed silently. Like a cat abandoned by its owner.

Just like that, Gavin brought you back to his apartment. Gavin told you to use his shower so you wouldn’t get cold and gave you his clothes, which of course, too big for you to the point you could wear Gavin's shirt and boxer and it looked decent and cover your body just enough while you wait for the dryer to dry your soaked clothes. You were snuggling in his blanket like a burito, sipping the tea Gavin made for you to warm up your body.

Gavin watched you with a swell in his heart as he stared at you. Your puffy red eyes, disheveled hair from shower that you didn’t bother to dry properly. You looked thinner and hollow. Gavin’s mind screamed to him that he wanted to treat you better, to make you feel better, better than Chandler, better than any man that had been in relationship with you.

“I...i really am sorry, Gavin.” you said as you placed the mug in your palm, staring at the tea, didn’t dare to look at Gavin who was sitting beside you. “For slapping you, calling you a liar.”

Gavin shook his head. “I understand that it was a lot for you to take in, after all you believed in him. But...i had to do it.” Gavin said.

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, again, as you hung your head low.

“Hey, it’s okay--”

“I broke up with Chandler.” You cut Gavin off. “I came to Chandler’s house to talk about our relationship, turned out he was making out with a girl when i walked in. So--”

Gavin was dumbfounded. Part of him was happy, glad that you finally let go of that bastard. Another part of him was hurt, to see the state you were in. How sad it must be for you. How hurt it must be. Without Gavin even realized he took away the mug from your hand and pulled you into hug.

“Gavin?” you called. “Gavin...i--”

Gavin was about to pulled away but when he felt that your whole body shook and a sob escaped from your lips, Gavin held you closer to him, hugging you. He patted your head as he let you cry. Your cry began to sound louder, clung to Gavin’s shirt’s sleeve tightly.

“Please, share me some of your pain. It’s okay to cry.” Gavin said.

You nodded, snaking your hand to hug Gavin back. “It...it hurts.” you said.

“I believed in him.”

“I trusted him.”

“Why? I tried so hard...to make our relationship work.”

“I..even dismissed my coworkers. I even said harsh things to them..to you.”

“I even slapped you, Gavin.”

“I’m sorry, Gavin.”

I promise, i will treat you better than any man.

No one is allowed to hurt you like this.

“It’s okay to let it out. It’s okay.” Gavin said as you turned to saying apologize to him over and over.

“But..Gavin, I--”

“Take your time to heal. You’re not alone. You have me, you have your coworkers too.

Gavin inhaled his own shampoo on your hair as you sobbed uncontrollably in his hug. Gavin didn’t say anything, he let you cry, let you say anything you wanted to say. His hand only pulled you closer while he buried his face to your hair, without you realizing, kissing the side of your head, muttering something.

When you’re healed, please look at me.

I love you.

[A SEQUEL COMING SOON]

45 notes · View notes

inyournightmares97 · 5 years

Text

Ultimatum (Part 2)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable.

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together.

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language.

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon)

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

It was like taking candy from a child.

Cruel, but easy.

“Do you know what this is, Yugyeom?” Jinyoung asked with a handsome smile. He leaned against Yugyeom’s desk gracefully, his expensive suit making the wooden table look dull in comparison. Jinyoung held a small sheaf of papers in his hand. “I just received this from IT. I think you’ll find it makes for very interesting reading.”

Yugyeom didn’t look up. You had just left the office for a meeting and he really didn’t want to deal with Park Jinyoung in your absence.

“Huh. Maybe put it down there and I’ll take a look at it when I have time,” Yugyeom muttered, trying to focus on the work he was supposed to be doing. He could feel Jinyoung’s dark eyes piercing into his skull.

“Are you sure? I think you want to read it now.”

“Not really.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “I see. You’d like me to leave it here for your boss to find when she comes back? Because I’m sure she’d be fascinated to go through your internet browsing history. There are some real gems in here.”

Yugyeom recoiled. “What?”

“The more recent ones are a delight. Let me see. ‘How to ask a girl out’ and ‘is it okay to date an intern’ and pick-up lines in Japanese. Is Hana Japanese? How ignorant of me, I never bothered to ask her. Oh! But I see if we go a couple months back then you enjoyed one particularly late night at the office alone, hmm? On 17th October at 11pm? Sounds like a wild ride. Busty brunettes-”

Yugyeom leapt to his feet and snatched the sheaf of papers, crumpling them up instantly. His cheeks and ears turned a bright red and he looked around furtively. Luckily you had stepped out for a meeting and Youngjae, the only other member of the Legal department, had gone to the cafeteria.

“Stop it. Please. Where did you even get that?” Yugyeom pleaded.

“I have friends in IT, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung explained as Yugyeom desperately ripped up the papers and tossed them into the bin under his desk. “I also have more copies of that.”

“I suppose you mean Mark Tuan. He’s not supposed to be releasing employee data like that. It’s against company policy for IT to disclose personal data to employees from other departments who don’t have clearance,” Yugyeom ranted, his brown eyes looking panicked. “It’s a breach of confidential information. So you can’t use that evidence against me because you obtained it illegally and without clearance-”

Jinyoung chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yugyeom. You poor child. You don’t understand how the world works, do you? I don’t need clearance to accidentally send this information to the rest of the office. What’s the worst that could happen to me? A formal reprimand, maybe a warning. But you… you’re going to face a lot worse.”

Yugyeom swallowed nervously. “Like what?”

Jinyoung leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Like Hana finding out about your taste for brunettes even before you’ve asked her on a date.”

“Fuck.”

“What do you think? Does this seem like a risk you want to be taking?”

Yugyeom clenched his fists with hatred. “What do you want?”

Jinyoung grinned despicably and rolled up his sleeves.

“That’s more like it. Let’s have a negotiation, shall we? It’s what I do best, after all.”

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

Yugyeom had been acting suspiciously silent all afternoon.

“Are you okay?” you asked him with a kind smile.

The young law graduate had only been working under you for a year, but his bright attitude and easy-going personality were the best things about him. Yugyeom could be clumsy and careless but he never lost his smile. Ever since you’d returned from your meeting, though, he had only been giving you one-word answers and avoiding your gaze.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“Are you sure? You’ve been pretty silent since I got back from my meeting.”

“Maybe something I ate at lunch didn’t agree with me,” he mumbled. Yugyeom’s face was white and you patted his back sympathetically. Poor kid. He’d been working hard with the big restructuring coming up soon.

“I’m leaving early today since I have to go visit my Mom. You should go home too. And drink some soup,” you suggested as you packed up your belongings. “We’ve been overworking ourselves. Nobody seems to appreciate that we’re the only thing standing between this company and a massive lawsuit.” you complained. Jinyoung’s despicable face popped up in your mind. “How dare he call our job a mere formality. That arrogant bastard.”

Yugyeom hiccuped nervously.

You smiled at him. “Here, drink some water. I’m guessing Park Jinyoung didn’t come by today?”

“W-what? No. Why? Did you see him?”

“Of course not. I was at my meeting most of the day. I assumed he’d come down here and try to bother you about the term sheet again,” you replied. It wasn’t like Jinyoung to give up easily. “I’m surprised he hasn’t done anything yet. He only has two days until his deadline. He must have some plan?”

Yugyeom forced a smile. “Maybe you scared him.”

“Maybe,” you mused. “Anyway, I’m leaving. Go home, Yugyeom. Get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

“I need you to personally review the documents relating to the opening of our new office in Busan,” the CEO told you. “It’s important that nothing goes wrong during this restructuring. We need it to work in order to cut costs here at the Seoul office, but if we have legal problems then we could end up spending more than we save.”

You nodded, clutching the files to your chest. “Right. I understand, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“I know I can count on you. Okay. That’s all for today, I have another meeting in a few minutes. Dismissed.”

You walked out of the CEOs office with a sigh, wondering how you had just been piled with more work than ever when you’d really wanted to take a few days off this week. Things were getting tougher. Your mind was preoccupied as you walked and you collided with a hard chest covered in an expensive suit.

“Hello there,” Jinyoung’s deep voice greeted, sounding amused as he reached out to help you straighten up. You looked into his dark eyes. The man’s hands were soft and warm on your skin, unlike his personality.

You frowned at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a meeting with the CEO,” he informed you smugly.

“About what?”

“None of your business. Run along and go pretend to be important elsewhere,” he told you airily.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Something wasn’t right. Park Jinyoung shouldn’t be this happy. There was a sparkle in his dark eyes and even the way the corner of his lips was curved up suggested that he knew something you didn’t.

Something smelled fishy.

“How are you so calm? I don’t understand. Your client expects to be signing the agreement tomorrow and you haven’t even got a term sheet approved,” you reminded him. You’d checked with Hana and she had confirmed that Jinyoung would be meeting with the client tomorrow afternoon. What was he going to take to them?

“You know what? I think I’ll manage.”

“Manage how?” you demanded.

“There’s no fun in me telling you that, now is there?” Jinyoung asked. He coolly ran his fingers through his hair. “Keep your schedule vacant tomorrow. I imagine the entire office will be having a party to celebrate me securing the biggest deal of the year. It would be a shame if you missed it.”

“I can’t miss a party that won’t happen,” you snapped.

“Sure, let’s see who wins this one. Spoiler alert: it’s me. It’s always me,” Jinyoung informed you with a pearly-white smile. He patted you on the head in a condescending manner that made your blood boil (how dare he: you were a fully grown woman!) and then calmly walked past you to enter the CEOs office.

What was happening?

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

At 8:34 pm on Tuesday night, Kim Yugyeom burst into tears and confessed everything.

You weren't surprised, only angry. It was just like Park Jinyoung to prey on a person's weakness. He had no shame or remorse, possessed no sense of right and wrong. He didn't even have basic decency, how could you have expected better from him?

“Hey, look. It’s going to be fine,” Youngjae tried to console Yugyeom gently, handing him a tissue to wipe his face. Most of the office had already left for the day but Yugyeom’s tears were still running like a waterfall. The poor boy was terrified.

“I-it’s not fine. I’m going to be fired for having approved a term sheet that was clearly against company policy-” Yugyeom whimpered.

“Nobody has to know!” Youngjae insisted. He turned and looked at you, expecting you to reassure Yugyeom. “Nobody has to know, right? Park Jinyoung won’t say anything because his ass is on the line. There’s no reason for senior management to read the agreement thoroughly. I’m sure the CEO will just sign it since it’s such a huge deal for our company. We’ll be fine for now. It’s a seven-year contract so really, it’ll be years before anyone begins to find any problems.”

You leaned back in your chair and sighed. “Do you guys know why the company doesn’t offer sub-licensing rights as a rule?”

Youngjae blinked. “I mean, yeah-”

“It’s because the software we’re licensing out is ours. If the client is allowed to license it to other people, or sub-license, then why would anyone come to us to buy it? We’d never make sales ourselves because the client would essentially be selling our product at a cheaper rate than us. We'd lose customers, literally. Sub-licensing puts our company at a disadvantage in the long run. But Park Jinyoung doesn’t care about the long run. He doesn’t even care whether this deal will benefit the company. He just wanted the personal glory of being the first guy in Sales to secure a ten million-dollar deal.”

Yugyeom sniffled. “I’m sorry…”

You sighed and patted him on the back. You weren’t happy with Yugyeom, but the boy was already so miserable that it seemed heartless to scold him further.

“Let’s call it a day, Yugyeom. We’re going to have to listen to Park Jinyoung gloating tomorrow, so we need our rest.”

“You’re not going to tell the CEO?” he asked hopefully.

You bit your lip. Every part of you was screaming to go to the CEO now and tell him that Jinyoung’s contract grossly violated company policy, but it was too late. Yugyeom’s signature was already on the sheet. The poor boy would lose his job and you didn’t want to be directly responsible for that. You gave him a small smile.

“I’m not going to tell. But the problem might get traced back to you someday, Yugyeom. I won’t lie. I’m not sure I can save you from that.”

“I-I know.”

“How about we all go get some pizza? Let’s invite Hana too. The poor girl can never join us when Jinyoung’s around,” you said brightly, in an attempt to dissipate the dull atmosphere. “Yugyeom, why don’t you go over to Sales and let her know?”

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

Park Jinyoung probably rehearsed that despicable smile of his.

You could picture it in your mind; Jinyoung standing in front of his mirror at home and practicing his pearly-white smile, checking to see which angles were most flattering. Jinyoung’s smile was made for the cameras, which was convenient because a press conference was held on Wednesday afternoon to announce that the two companies had entered into an enormous deal.

You watched in silent disgust as Jinyoung smiled handsomely for the cameras and shook hands with the senior management.

“Looks like they’re organizing a party to celebrate the deal,” Jinyoung announced loudly to Jackson as he walked past your desk later that evening, proudly carrying the small gift that the client had given him as a thank you. He was addressing his co-worker, but his dark eyes twinkled in your direction. “There’ll be lots of free booze. We’re going to need a designated driver.”

Jackson laughed. “Don’t look at me! I intend to get sloshed!”

“Oh, I’m sure someone from Legal will volunteer,” Jinyoung replied airily. “I can think of a few teetotallers in that department.”

What a prick. Like hell you would be driving his drunken ass home.

Park Jinyoung gave you a cheeky smile and hurried past. Even the sight of his shapely posterior was not enough to calm you down. How did the man wake up every morning and live with himself? He had no shame.

You paused for a few moments to visualise his head puffing up to three times its present size and then exploding into a billion tiny pieces, one for every dollar he’d made off the deal. The prospect made you feel marginally better and you were able to get back to work.

You’d get your revenge.

Although maybe not quite yet.

“Are you all coming to the party tonight?” Hana asked hopefully, when she stopped by the Legal area on her return journey from getting Jackson coffee. Her question was addressed to all three of you but her gaze was on Yugyeom. He had been miserable all morning. His shoulders were slumped as he shuffled through some documents half-heartedly.

“Of course we’re coming,” you told her.

Yugyeom blinked. “Actually-”

“We’re coming. We did some work on that deal too, we deserve to be there,” you replied. You gave Yugyeom a firm look. “You’re not going to avoid it. If nothing else, at least enjoy the free drinks. Why would you refuse when the company is paying?”

“Right…” Yugyeom mumbled.

“Can I come with you guys?” Hana asked shyly. “I don’t really want to go with the rest of the Sales team. Mr. Park is being offered a promotion, and it’s all he can talk about. I’m getting kind of tired of congratulating him on it whenever he brings it up.”

You flinched. “A promotion? Jinyoung?”

“Well… it’s not a promotion exactly. But since he’s such a good negotiator, the CEO wants him to help the Finance team make pitches to potential investors for our company. I guess that’s a step up from Sales, right?” she asked.

Holy shit. They're sending him to our investors now? That was no small matter. Being in charge of finding clients was one thing, but to let Jinyoung talk to the company’s investors was pretty much the highest recognition they could have given him.

No wonder he had looked so pleased.

"Of course you can come with us," you told her kindly, trying not to let your bitterness show. "I'm sure you need a break from all that toxicity up in Sales. We'll meet you after work, I think the restaurant they booked is within walking distance from here."

"Thanks!" Hana said brightly. "I'll see you!"

None of you were in a mood to celebrate Park Jinyoung's 'contributions' to the company but you decided that you would go. Hopefully a couple of drinks and some time spent with Hana would cheer Yugyeom up. Park Jinyoung could only be in one place at a time, so it should be easy to avoid him, right?

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

It wasn't.

Park Jinyoung seemed to actively follow you around the party. Youngjae left to hang out with his friends in IT and after the first half hour, Yugyeom and Hana found a private spot on a couch to chat with their cocktails. They looked cozy and you didn't want to disturb them, so you just stuck to the walls and smiled at people politely.

Maybe you needed more friends.

Then again, you’d never been one for socializing at work. You worked well with your team, sure, but you didn’t know much about their personal lives. And you didn’t spend hours in the cafeteria chatting with people from other departments. You had a pleasant working relationship with most people but you didn’t have any friends in this company.

Oh well.

You’d rather be alone than manipulate people the way Jinyoung did.

You were just beginning to wonder if you could make an excuse to go home when you spotted a familiar smirk in the crowd. Park Jinyoung made his way over to you, a glass of whisky in one hand. He looked incredibly attractive. He’d unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and his suit jacket was missing. Jinyoung’s hair was messy, and his skin flushed from the alcohol.

“Well,” he greeted you with a smirk. “You must be the only person in the room who hasn’t congratulated me tonight. Even Yugyeom did it, although he squeezed my hand a little harder than he should have. I think you’re rubbing off on him.”

You said nothing, merely glared.

“Oooooh, the stink eye. How terrifying,” he replied sarcastically. “Fine, don’t congratulate me. Oh! But would you mind driving me and Jackson home tonight? Everyone’s getting drunk and we can’t seem to find a ride. You don’t drink much at these kind of parties, do you?”

You held a hand out to stop a passing waiter and took two shots of hard liquor from him, one in each hand. Without breaking eye contact with Jinyoung you drank both of them in a single gulp and then set them down on the counter. Your head spun; but Jinyoung’s jaw fell slack and that was enough for you.

“Ah, I see. You are drinking then.”

“Surprising,” you replied with a sneer, “that the man who can negotiate a ten million-dollar deal is too cheap to just take a cab home.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Cheap? Me?”

“Oh, am I wrong?”

“You are, as a matter of fact,” he replied. The corner of his lips turned up. “I’ll prove it to you. Let me buy you a drink right now. Choose anything you want from the bar. Not the free drinks they’re handing out for our party, but the expensive stuff on the menu.”

“I wouldn’t touch a drink you bought me with a ten-foot pole,” you snapped.

Jinyoung put a hand on his chest, looking offended. “What? What kind of a man do you think I am?”

“The kind who blackmails an innocent kid with his internet search history into signing a contract that he could be fired for having approved. Do you not think about the consequences of your actions, Park Jinyoung? Do you just go about the world doing whatever you please for your own benefit?”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. Who else do my actions need to benefit?”

“Unbelievable.”

“What?” he demanded. “Nobody’s ever done anything for me. I’ve gotten everything in this world through my own hard work. You think I haven’t been stepped on or cheated? Go ahead. Worship your laws and your ethics and your fucking company policy all you want. Those things have never helped anyone. We’re all responsible for taking care of our own asses, and no rulebook can change that.”

“You’re selfish and disgusting.”

“I’m happy.”

“Are you really? How do you live with yourself? It’s lonely at the top, Park Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung scoffed. His eyes looked around the room proudly. “Lonely? This party is being celebrated for my achievements. I’ve been congratulated by every single person here. I’m getting a raise and I’m about to be promoted. Do I look lonely? You’re the one who doesn’t have any friends here. All you do is act like a teacher’s pet and preach your moral superiority. It’s annoying.”

You flinched. “What?”

“It’s true, isn’t it? Nobody likes a goody-two-shoes. This isn’t primary school. There are no prizes for following the rules. Grow up.”

“I cannot believe your nerve.”

“No, you just can’t believe that your stupid company policy was wrong and that I found a better way to handle things on my own.”

“On your own? You blackmailed a kid! He could lose his job! And why? To secure that precious ten million-dollar deal? That deal is going to hurt the company in the long run and you knew it from the start! Not a single person benefits from this entire manipulative mess except for you!” you snapped.

Jinyoung blinked. “Then go tell on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go on, teacher’s pet. Be a tattletale. Go tell the CEO. I’ll lose my job. Yugyeom will lose his job. And your precious company will be saved from the big, bad sublicensing term. I dare you to do it,” he challenged you.

Your fists clenched. For a moment, you pictured yourself punching Park Jinyoung in the face, or throwing a martini onto his expensive shirt. How dare he create a problem and challenge you to fix it? How dare he pretend that he was right after his childish and selfish behaviour? You stared at him in disgust.

“I hate you,” you snapped.

Jinyoung smirked. “Are you sure? Or do you maybe just hate yourself? Because you’re so proud of always following the company policy and being a stickler for the rules but you can’t even bring yourself to tell the truth. You can fool yourself that you’re better than me all you want. But you’re complicit in this whole deal.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“Fuck. You, Park Jinyoung,” you hissed as you turned to leave. “I can’t even look at you.”

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung called after you with a delighted laugh, as you hurried away. If you stayed then you would surely hit him, and you didn’t want to do that. “Because there’s a rumour around work that you can’t stop looking at my butt!”

You turned back to stare at him in disbelief. What?

Jinyoung simply grinned. His dark eyes were twinkling mischievously and he lifted the hand carrying his drink to show off his forearm below his rolled-up sleeves. Jinyoung’s dark hair fell into his eyes, and there was something extremely kissable about those plump lips of his as he mouthed the words that made your blood boil.

I win.

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

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arawynn · 3 years

Text

Something nice to know (but not well known) about books and libraries in Germany

I’ve been having a conversation about this topic recently with somebody who knew almost nothing about the topic.

The Index of the Federal Department of Media Harmful to Young Persons - usually simply referred to as “The Index”. (The general information are coming from the Department’s homepage)

So what is The Index?

In short - they’re there to check if a medium is harmful to Minors. Included in it are for example books, music CDs and audio CDs. Usually excluded are movies, TV shows and computer games because they normally already get age statements. I’m not going to elaborate that now since it’s enough for another post.

What does get a medium on The Index?

- something that has a brutalizing effect on children - namely fostering sadism, violence, along with things that can let children lose their empathy towards cruelty towards other people. This also includes violence and killing in ways that glorify, downplay or justify said actions.

- inciting crimes by making them seem worthy of imitation which includes suggesting street law

- inciting racial hate, which isn’t limited to skin colour but any sort of hatred towards groups for religious, nationalities and the likes. It absolutely includes groups like Sinti, Roma and Jewish people.

- Immorality which usually covers sexual topics. For example porno movies where one of the involved people is being degraded to a mere sex object, anything involving pedophilia, anything that makes young people think violence (even/especially non-consensual) is necessary or legitimate to receive sexual pleasure.

- glorification of National Socialism or war - I think that doesn’t need an explanation, especially in Germany.

There are a couple more things, but they’re more or less further explanations of what I already mentioned here.

What’s on The Index?

First of all, The Index is technically four lists.

The first distinction is between so-called Telemedien (sorry, there’s no proper translation for that) which includes online content, radio and free TV and Trägermedien (carrier medium) - basically anything that gets printed (books, journals, comics and so on), CDs, DVDs, cassettes and USB sticks.

Both lists have one section that’s “only” liable to corrupt young people, the other is absolutely banned from being distributed. That’s because the second category contains the race baiting, violence glorifying or paedophiliac content. They’re all illegal, of course.

The probably most famous book on The Index is Adolf Hitlers “Mein Kampf” (though in 2016, a new edition with critical comments was published and that one is not on The Index as far as I know). Somebody who worked for the district office got fired for reading an ‘original’ version of it in a break room (that wouldn’t have happened with any other book on The Index, it’s specifically because that person read “Mein Kampf”)

In total, there are roughly 1800 movies, 540 board games 420 printed media and 1780 sound storage mediums on The Index, along with 5160 online offers.

Now the most important question - What does it mean if something is on The Index?

Being on The Index - even if it’s not the banned from distribution part - means heavy restrictions. Since I work in a library and we had this topic at trade school with a certain focus on libraries, I’m putting a certain focus on books.

- No public promotion in bookstores. Not even just having it lay in the store openly accessible. Basically, you can only buy it “from below the counter” as it’s called - somebody has to specifically ask for the book in order to be given it

- No making it accessible it to minors. That includes reading a book on The Index to them, no turning on a movie and letting them watch it, no selling or lending that stuff to them for stores (including online stores) or libraries. Public libraries usually won’t have that kind of stuff anyway.

- Mail order selling is in general forbidden since it’s difficult to make certain that the person ordering something is not a minor.

- Public advertising is forbidden, even if it wouldn’t involve the actually indexed content (a harmless passage from a book, a perfectly “safe” looking trailer and the likes).

(There are several more but they’re extremely specific so I’m leaving them out.)

Violating any of those laws can be punished with a fine or a jail sentence up to one year.

To illustrate what kind of impact all those rules, I’ll retell what a former class mate from trade school mentioned during the lesson when we talked about it how the university library she did her apprenticeship at handled “Mein Kampf”.

The book had to be kept at a stacks. Visitors (no matter if they’re guests, profs or students) have access to that room. So anybody who wanted to look through the book had to ask the library staff to get it for them.

If a student wanted “Mein Kampf”, they’d need a written permission from their professor where said professor confirmed that the student needed the book for the course they were teaching.

The book can not be burrowed, by nobody. If you want to work with it, you have to stay in the library.

You can’t just go anywhere in the library to work with it. There’s a specific reading room where you work with it. Under supervision of a member of the library staff.

I sadly don’t remember if she said anything about restrictions of photocopies, but it’d be possible that they’re forbidden as well.

#library stuff #German library staff #Index of the Federal Department of Media Harmful to Young Persons #The Index #good to know

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renegadewangs · 3 years

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Van Zieks - the Examination, part 7

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Back to the second game we go for The Return of the Great Departed Soul! (Part one, this is another two-parter case)

Episode 2-3: The Return of the Great Departed Soul

So now, chronologically, six months have passed since The Unspeakable Story. Susato returned to Japan at the end of the first game and hasn't returned yet. Ryu was reprimanded for all the perjury and the questionable McGilded defense, so he had his right to stand in court revoked for now and instead had to focus on studying English law some more. He's done so quite patiently and now he feels he's ready to return. He just needs to get Stronghart's permission first. Meanwhile, the Great Exhibition is happening in Hyde Park, pulling in visitors and scientists from all over the world. Exciting! (S)Holmes hands Ryu a newspaper with an article on the exhibition, talking about how the brighter things shine, the darker the shadows cast behind them. By now, Ryu is fluent enough in (S)Holmes speak to know this means he should flip over the newspaper. There, we find an article of an entirely different sort.

So not only was Van Zieks apparently attacked, Ryu shows horror and concern at the notion. No hard feelings from our wholesome boy! (S)Holmes explains that London's finest criminals often find ways to get acquittals from trials through bribery, threats, sham witnesses... We saw this in McGilded, of course, so we know all too well how dangerous that can get. But since the Reaper and his curse are immune to such tactics, when a ringleader or fellow ends up being 'taken' by the curse, retaliation can occur. So it's established that this isn't the first time Van Zieks has been attacked by a group of thugs. Fortunately, Van Zieks is an “accomplished combatant” who doesn't take these attacks lying down. Unfortunately, the thugs were carrying guns this time. Uhoh.

This warms my heart, it really does. Van Zieks has been a terrible scumbag, but Ryu doesn't think he's gotten his comeuppance at all. He's genuinely concerned for this man and intends to find out more about his condition. So since he was planning to meet with Stronghart and ask for attorney permission anyway, it's the perfect opportunity to also ask about Van Zieks! Iris decides to tag along because she wants to visit the Great Exhibition. Let's shove the newspaper in Stronghart's face as soon as the game allows it.

The phrasing of “number one prosecutor” is interesting, but then... We never learn of any other (living) veteran prosecutors in this country, so of course Van Zieks would be number one. Stronghart says there's no need for concern; Van Zieks would not be so easily dispatched. Street ruffians are no match for him, since he's a very capable fighter. Seems like that sword he carries around isn't just for show after all. As for why he was attacked this time... Well, a month ago Van Zieks prosecuted a leader of a criminal organization. Nice to know he didn't just return to retirement and instead got back to work like a normal person without cherrypicking his cases based on what Ryu's doing. The defendant was acquitted, no doubt thanks to large sums of money being shifted around behind the scenes, but he still met a dramatic end just yesterday during an accident at the Great Exhibition. The man in question was Odie Asman, and the one now being detained on suspicion of murder without a defense attorney is Professor Albert Harebrayne. Albert's case has just been assigned to Ryu, so we're sure to find out more about Asman as we go. As as final touch, Ryu asks Stronghart why he continues to use Van Zieks as a prosecutor. Since the criminals are becoming fearful of the curse and attacking him, it's dangerous to Van Zieks himself. Stronghart explains that he has two reasons: Firstly, Van Zieks is the best prosecutor in the capital, bar none. And secondly, any deaths that have occurred outside the courtrooms after his trials have nothing to do with him. (S)Holmes alluded to the same thing, saying that Van Zieks had a rock-hard alibi for each and every mysterious death.

“So he will continue to prosecute on behalf of the Crown. ...Unless he wishes otherwise, of course.” With that, Stronghart admits he needs to get going since he's already 11 hours late to his next appointment (fsdkjfls). Ryu asks where he might be able to find Van Zieks and is told to head to his office. So even after being told that Van Zieks is just fine, Ryu is still concerned and wants to discuss the matter with the man himself. Let's gooo! Naturally, the first thing out of Van Zieks's mouth when he catches Ryu and Iris in his office is to wonder what the heck they're doing here.

So there's several things of interest in the office, with the game automatically addressing the biggest one: Van Zieks has an apprentice now! It's a mysterious, rigid dude wearing a hood and a mask who is absolutely not familiar to us, nope. We don't know him. Gosh, what a mystery. Van Zieks doesn't seem to know who he is either, instead just referring to him as his apprentice and nothing more.

Ryu sees this as an opening to ask about the attack on the Reaper that was in the newspaper. Van Zieks admits that he too is very interested in the true identity of the Reaper. “Assuming, that is, such a fabled fiend genuinely inhabits our great courtrooms.” The conversation halts for a moment so we can examine the office and this is the best opportunity for humanizing traits we've gotten so far, so LET'S DO IT! The enormous portrait in the back is the first thing to peek at.

Iris says whoever painted it exaggerated the subject's handsomeness, which in turn is reminiscent of Napoleon ordering the painter to make him look more attractive. That's super vain and not an attractive quality in a person at all. I laughed the whole way through that bit of dialogue and Van Zieks, who was in earshot the entire time, gets his feathers ruffled.

When Ryu asks who it is then, Van Zieks doesn't reply. BACKSTORY ALERT! Examining the chalices and bottles on the left leads to Van Zieks explaining the hallowed bottles are filled with the finest grapes from the finest vineyards he visits (so it is grape juice!!!) and he personally oversees the chalices being made by the finest crystal craftsmen in the world. Right, so not only is he filthy stinkin' rich, he's a perfectionist. Iris points out that Van Zieks throws the chalices and bottles around like they're worthless, to which Van Zieks says:

“Before you open your mouth next time, you should consider the poor artisans whose work you defile.”

As it turns out, passive aggression is contagious now. Ryu replies with a “So it's my fault? Silly me! How could I ever have thought otherwise?” and honestly I love that he's got enough guts to say this out loud. Our boy is growing a spine. Examining the wine casks has Ryu and Iris theorize about how there might be dead bodies in there, which once again ruffles Van Zieks's feathers.

Snrk. Examining the big diorama in the middle of the room has Ryu and Iris wonder whether Van Zieks can't go to the Exhibition in person and this is his way of dealing with that, which has Van Zieks snap that it's obviously an investigative aid. He even has pets of sorts in his office, in the form of a couple of bats hanging from the curtains. Alright, so the game's definitely humanizing this poor man now. No matter how many crazy stories Iris and Ryu come up with about him, there's usually a very innocent explanation to debunk the eerie myths. Something particularly interesting happens when Ryu shows Van Zieks his defense attorney armband. Van Zieks asks what the reason is for showing it to a British prosecutor, to which Ryu admits that he doesn't quite know. Van Zieks is silent for a bit, then says that he understands. “There's merit in reminding yourself of who helped you become what you are today.”

As he says it, he reaches for his prosecutor's badge and if you're aware of the backstory, you'll know he's thinking of Klint. More importantly, this conversation puts Ryu and Van Zieks on the same level. Ryu is always thinking of Kazuma, who 'helped him become who he is today' and the armband signifies this, along with the sword. Similarly, Van Zieks lost someone very close to him and he's walking the path of prosecutor in his brother's memory. Ryu thanks Van Zieks for understanding and it's very significant that Van Zieks understands in the first place. Remember, in the first game he was under the impression that a Japanese person could never understand a British person and vice versa.

Showing Van Zieks the newspaper article has him looking a bit embarrassed, pointing out that a reporter must've been nearby and he'd been careless to let himself get photographed. Either way, all the thugs responsible have already been apprehended. The investigation into Odie Asman's activities meant that their arrests were already imminent anyway, and some hoped to kill Van Zieks before that happened. Much like McGilded, Asman used his wealth to buy his way towards an acquittal in court, but “he got his comeuppance in the end.” Which is strange, right? Very suspicious. Van Zieks asks whether Ryu believes he has some sort of divine ability to make an accident like that happen. Ryu admits that would be far-fetched, and thinks to himself that even if Van Zieks were the Reaper, he'd have to be innocent of this particular death. We also learn that Van Zieks is familiar with Professor Harebrayne, the suspect in the Asman incident. When told that Ryu will be taking on the defense, Van Zieks is shocked.

Van Zieks goes on to explain that he knows Albert quite well. They were at university together. While he's lived in Germany for quite a few years, Albert is actually from a respectable British family. And despite Albert being in the science faculty and Van Zieks in law, they got along quite well. Now he's in pretty hot water for that Asman accident.

Hm. I don't quite know what to make of this reaction. I think what's going on here isn't that Van Zieks is rattled because Albert is being defended by a Japanese person, but because he's being defended by a rookie attorney who was just disbarred for six months for accidentally encouraging perjury, false witness and crime scene tampering in a court of law. Yes, Ryu has won his trials every single time, but it came at a price. Aside from this, there's one other thing Van Zieks knows about Ryu: he'll pursue the truth, no matter what. This means that if Albert indeed didn't succeed at inventing teleportation, it'll be revealed in court because exposing shams is Ryu's whole deal.

We learn that Van Zieks will be the one to prosecute Albert tomorrow, which is curious to say the least. Ryu wants to know why he'd do something like that, with Iris pointing out that so long as the Reaper is the prosecutor, Albert is doomed. Van Zieks replies that he's a Crown prosecutor and a mortal like any other; he's no demigod. In other words, he doesn't believe the curse to be a real curse. Iris points out that everyone who's been prosecuted by Van Zieks has died (which is already objectively wrong), to which Van Zieks replies that he usually prosecutes the vilest wretches of society.

… Harsh. Ryu points out that Soseki wasn't a vile wretch though, with Iris chiming in that Gina's also turned her life around and she's working very hard now. Van Zieks admits that things have changed ever since meeting Ryu- which of course has to do with Van Zieks's need to face Ryu in court even in mediocre trials rather than pursue his usual corrupted targets- but the point is that if any of those vile wretches died in mysterious circumstances, it was “at the hand of their own kind”, not Van Zieks's. So basically, he believes that they were killed because they were dubious people engaged with dubious activities, not because of the Reaper's curse. Not only that, but ever since the rumors of the Reaper began, the number of serious crimes in London has decreased significantly. Even the most hardened criminals can be made fearful of their lives. Therefore, if his pseudonym of the Reaper can serve a useful purpose, he'll “adopt it gladly and with honour”. Ryu repeats that which he already told Stronghart; that it's putting Van Zieks in danger.

He really is a prosecutor on the edge with nothing to lose, huh. So what Van Zieks is basically saying is that he doesn't care if he dies, so long as he spends the rest of his life serving the 'useful purpose' of carrying the Reaper moniker to intimidate the vilest of society. But is that really all there is to it? (Spoilers: It's not)

There's a bit more talk about the mysterious apprentice here, with Van Zieks explaining the man was placed in his care under Stronghart's orders. He's wearing a mask on Stronghart's orders and also doesn't speak to anyone from outside the office on Stronghart's orders. HM. Van Zieks claims that Stronghart isn't one for “meaningless follies”, therefore he must have a good reason. This implies that Van Zieks believes in Stronghart's judgment almost blindly. To round up the conversation, Van Zieks asks about “that Nipponese man. The one arrested twice in succession six months ago. With the stoop. And the moustache. And the jitters.” Looks super offensive at first glance, but I gotta admit, after six months I wouldn't remember Soseki's name either. Better to describe him than to guess the name and get it wrong. Still though, just because it's not super offensive doesn't mean it's not offensive. Just saying “the one you defended six months ago” would've done the trick. Either way, Ryu says he's doing just fine and a letter from him arrived by post just the other day.

So this is interesting. Earlier, Van Zieks claimed in his own words that he doesn't believe in the curse and those who died had it coming to them, but he's still inquiring after Soseki. Perhaps not so much because he's worried about Soseki himself, but because he's curious whether this man has successfully escaped the curse so far. He would know that for a fact about Gina, but the only way to verify Soseki's status is to ask Ryu about it.

Time to leave this glass cage of exposition and meet the defendant in person! Albert spouts a whole lot of dialogue about how his machine is treated differently depending on whether the case is treated as an accident or as murder. If it's murder, it can be examined up close and that's what Albert doesn't want. It has to be treated as an accident so that it'll be protected from prying eyes through The Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act (wow that's a mouthful). Of course, that's not entirely what we're interested in. Let's ask about his friendship with Van Zieks! Ryu asks what he was like back in his university days and the answer surprises him.

HAH, wonderfully written exchange, this one. Albert goes to describe him as “the little darling of the Van Zieks family, with all its great aristocratic origins”. So Van Zieks has some very noble blood in him. We could've already guessed this from his title of Lord, but apparently it's a bit more serious. I could derail here with wild theories about his family originating from the Netherlands and having migrated to the UK around the time the first king of the Netherlands, Willem I van Oranje Nassau, rose to power in 1813. Willem changed the way nobility works to some degree in the country and not all noble families would've agreed with his way of doing things. But anyway, point is, Van Zieks is a big shot. Albert says that it was kind of a shock to him when he came back to Britain and discovered 'what Van Zieks had become'. He heard that there was 'a very big event' that completely changed Van Zieks after his graduation, but doesn't know what it was because he was already in Germany at the time. So here we have some more traces of that backstory and we have enough pieces to start sticking some things together. We know Van Zieks was once betrayed by a friend and we now know he was a very modest, pleasant gentleman when he was young. Whatever happened must've been very harsh indeed to turn him into such a sour lemon. Either way, Albert doesn't seem to know yet that Van Zieks will be the prosecutor and Ryu doesn't have the heart to tell him.

So let's investigate the crime scene! Here, it's confirmed that Gina Lestrade is indeed just fine and now in training to become a detective with Gregson. Cute! So eventually we get to talk to Gregson about Van Zieks and how he's acquainted with Albert. Gregson is overdramatically shocked to find out that the two of them are old buddies.

Remember when Van Zieks took a five year hiatus and nobody had to mysteriously die from the Reaper's curse? Those were the days, eh Gregson? Now he's even prosecuting his own friends willy-nilly. Gregson states he has no idea what goes on in Van Zieks's head (a sentiment we've heard before in 1-4) and goes on to bring up the newspaper article about Van Zieks being attacked. When told that our good old pal the Reaper is just fine, Gregson utters a very uncomfortable “glad to hear it” which honestly had me wondering whether he'd preferred Van Zieks to die.

Up until a certain someone gets killed and stuffed into a suitcase, I'd reckon. Gregson says that Van Zieks is a top class prosecutor, but not even he can always push the right verdict through. “Sometimes justice can't win.” Gregson explains that naturally, Scotland Yard suspected Van Zieks at first and assumed he was taking matters into his own hands. There was a very thorough investigation and the outcome was that Van Zieks was in no way related to the mysterious deaths. So that's three people now who all insist Van Zieks couldn't possibly have committed the murders. Gregson says he's willing to stake his reputation on it, even. Of course, Gregson would know for sure, wouldn't he? But the narrative is telling us over and over that Van Zieks himself isn't the Reaper, with even Van Zieks himself implying he'd like to know just who the Reaper is. There's a conspiracy happening that Van Zieks is the centerpiece of, with the narrative really pushing the mystery aspect of it. The writers want us to care about the truth of the Reaper for sure.

OOOH that's meta! Ryu, being nosy and overly invested in Van Zieks's life, asks Gregson whether he knows about the 'incident' which changed Van Zieks after graduation.

Okay he clearly knows. Even a first time player can tell from this single reaction that Gregson's lying. The mystery thickens! At the end of the conversation, when Gregson's gone off, Iris recommends asking (S)Holmes about it instead. Safe bet, since (S)Holmes continuously knows more than he's letting on. To the house of wax we go! When asked about it, it's clear that he does know something (and is described as suddenly clamming up), but before he can explain there's a distraction in the form of Madam Tusspells and we have to sit through a mostly-unrelated Joint Reasoning segment. It leads into a conversation about a mass murderer known as the Professor. Ten years ago, there was a series of murders which rocked the capital right around the time Van Zieks graduated from university. Five people were killed before the man was caught and executed. This fifth victim was Klint van Zieks, Barok's older brother.

I really, really dislike this phrasing because Van Zieks was already studying law to begin with. He'd just graduated as a prosecutor; his brother's death had nothing to do with him pursuing that path. Anyway...

OOOH that's meta! So remember way back in the first essay when I said the backstory is optional? Well, here it is. The Great Ace Attorney is going all in for it. It's being tied to the ongoing plot, just as pretty much all the main prosecutor backstories are. Edgeworth's backstory is tied to Von Karma being the final boss, Godot's backstory is tied to the Fey lineage, Klavier's backstory (I say this lightly) is tied to Phoenix's disgrace... Now Van Zieks's story is tied to the serial killer who ruined so many lives a decade ago. And technically, we already have all the puzzle pieces we need for the next twist; we know Van Zieks was betrayed by a Japanese person who was his friend. So really, we can now say with absolutely certainty that the man arrested and executed back then was a Japanese buddy of Van Zieks.

The investigation segment is pretty much over, but the game has one more scene for us. This is something Ryunosuke won't witness, but the scriptwriters deemed it so important that we're ignoring Ryu to focus solely on the two characters involved. And cutting away from our main character is something that usually doesn't happen in Ace Attorney. Even when characters like Phoenix or Ryu are out of commission for whatever reason, a new 'main character' takes over for a second and we see everything from their point of view. I can think of only one other scene viewed without Ryu there, which happened in 1-5 just before Susato had to leave London. So what we have here is a very private moment between Van Zieks and Albert.

AWWW... The scenes in the office were great and all, but this right here is perhaps the most humanizing exchange we'll ever see with Barok. The reason for that, I think, is precisely because Ryu isn't there. He's alone with an old friend now, which means he can let his guard down more than he usually would. Even so, it's worth noting here that he doesn't look directly at Albert. He stands with his back to him the entire time and I'm certain this is intentional, because they could just as easily have rotated him into that sideways view that's often used in dialogue and courtroom scenes. He made his way down to the gaol to speak with his friend after ten long years, but is reluctant to look right at him. The conversation itself feels rather distant as well. Albert is delighted to see Van Zieks, but the sentiment isn't returned vocally. Van Zieks points out that they're meeting again “in prison of all places” and that the court will decide Albert's fate tomorrow. When Van Zieks raises a warning, Albert says he already knows his friend will be prosecuting and doesn't appear bothered at all at first. He does try to raise a question in the form of “Are you really...?”, but ultimately drops it and says that he knows Van Zieks has his best interests at heart. Van Zieks says he wouldn't entrust the trial of his friend to anyone else, and Albert thanks him for that. So my first guess upon taking in that dialogue is that Albert wonders for a brief moment whether Van Zieks really is the Reaper/really is cursed, only to shake it off because he considers the man his friend. Van Zieks seems to know it's risky to prosecute Albert, but deems it more important to handle the case himself than to let someone else do it. This, as we learn later, has to do with the Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act and the protection of Albert's scientific secrets.

Next day, we're at the Old Bailey! In the defendant lobby, Ryu is once again told by Albert that the true goal to aim for in this trial is to protect his scientific hypothesis. So hypothetically speaking, the ideal outcome here would be to prove the death was accidental and that the kinesis was a success at the same time. (S)Holmes and Iris don't believe Albert's theory to be sound though, instead saying it couldn't possibly be done. In the courtroom, Ryu faces off against Van Zieks once more for the first time in six months! The judge is quick to point out that Odie Asman is a name familiar to him; a man who was prosecuted only a month ago by Van Zieks. When he asks whether this death is the work of the Reaper, Van Zieks instead describes it as “divine retribution”, but also “a direct result of the actions of the accused, Professor Albert Harebrayne”. The prosecution asserts that the instantaneous kinesis demonstration was a success. He himself can't say for certain whether it's a sound theory, but it's being investigated by the British government since it was deemed to have potential and the prosecution's case aligns with the notion that there was indeed instantaneous- You know what? Let's just call it teleportation. That's easier to type.

Unfortunately, Van Zieks doesn't want to follow the accident angle. Instead, he outright accuses his old friend of murdering Asman using the totally-functional-teleportation-machine-which-totally-worked to be the sole benefactor of a scientific grant. Harsh. Very harsh. I don't entirely understand why he didn't pursue the accident angle instead, but then, I don't quite know enough about law. My guess is that as the prosecution, he's not allowed to. Scotland Yard found enough evidence at the scene to substantiate a murder plot, especially that damning screwdriver that Ryu so graciously handed to Gregson, so that's what the prosecution has to go with, maybe? It's up to the defense attorney to debunk that down to an accident, then, so in essence Van Zieks is counting on Ryu to 'defeat him' and prove the murder aspect wrong. It would align with the conversation Albert had with Van Zieks in prison, where he said that 'it was a terrible accident and the young Eastern man acting as his defence assured him that he can prove it'.

So speaking of that screwdriver, Albert tries to discredit it himself by saying that if he had stabbed Asman on the stage, there would've been a whole lot of blood. Van Zieks pours himself a glass of wine and 'congratulates' his friend on a good rebuttal.

“Here's to you, Albert!”

Albert laughs it off sheepishly, saying he's nothing compared to “Barok” (awww, first name basis), but a chalice is immediately flung. Van Zieks says Albert neglected to mention one crucial possibility, which is that the lack of blood is explained by the notion that the screwdriver remained in the victim's chest to plug the wound. Therefore, since the demonstration was totally a success, the screwdriver was teleported along with the victim. Ryu thinks to himself that he had no idea the victim had been stabbed and wonders whether Van Zieks kept that information to himself to keep the upper hand on purpose. This whole thing jars me a little, because the screwdriver is brought up relatively early in the trial during the very first cross-examination. Is not mentioning it during the opening statement and waiting for Gregson to bring it up three minutes later really the same as 'keeping it to himself to gain the upper hand'?

Either way, Ryu counters, saying that the screwdriver was found at the stage and therefore didn't teleport at all, with Gregson serving as an official witness to this location. It's pretty clear from the next dialogue that Gregson never told Van Zieks where that screwdriver was found.

“That you contravened the Special Dispensation for Scientific Equipment Act?”

Gregson is immediately up in arms, but it's fine. There was no investigation needed to find a screwdriver lying in plain sight. So now Ryu decides to tighten the screws. He claims that if the prosecution can't explain the inconsistency (the screwdriver being found on the stage but no blood being there so clearly it must've plugged the wound), the testimony is unreliable. Van Zieks doesn't reply and Ryu thinks to himself that he looks stumped, but uh...

He just looks annoyed to me. The person to object next is not Van Zieks, it's Albert. He says that metal can't be teleported with the machine, so it only makes sense the screwdriver stayed behind and there's no inconsistency at all. Van Zieks suggests: “Clearly we should hear the accused's explanation. … Or should I say, this brilliant scientist's explanation?” And I think here in these two sentences we have the crux of the issue. Albert wants to be treated as a legitimate scientist above all else. Even if that means he's branded a murderer, so long as his hypothesis is protected and the confidentiality stands, it makes no difference to him. This was likely discussed with Van Zieks the night before as well. Albert is apparently willing to die for the sake of his scientific principles and... Well. I'm sure Van Zieks can understand. He's willing to die for the sake of serving the Reaper purpose. In a way, this means the defendant and the prosecution are in cahoots together, which is another first in Ace Attorney history. The two of them are fighting to keep the hypothesis of teleportation intact and if Ryu manages to prove that it was an accidental death, then great! Unfortunately, the second that screwdriver was discovered, the chances of that became slim to none. It was murder, plain and simple. On a sidenote, I found this little gem:

I'm counting this as humanization, because the underlying sentiment here is that despite his haughty better-than-thou attitude, Van Zieks is still friends with someone so very scatterbrained, his name is forgotten sometimes. Even Ryu is taken aback by the purity of the friendship.

Heh heh... Time to cause some more havoc by informing the court that Asman's metal-rimmed glasses were still on his face and since Albert already said metal can't be teleported, his hypothesis is a load of tosh. The jurors go up in arms about it, saying the machine should be stripped down and examined. The game gives Ryu the option to either raise an objection or 'wait and see', but this is another one of those fake choices. Waiting and seeing just leads to a bit more dialogue between the jurors before Ryu steps in of his own accord. He says Albert would have no reason to build such an elaborate fake machine and put on a public display for murder, but Van Zieks counters with the very good reason: Money. The jurors are even more outraged, calling him a fake scientist who's only in it for the guineas, and Albert begs them to believe that his science is built upon a sound hypothesis. Van Zieks comes in to 'save the day' (sort of).

“The fact remains that the victim was transported instantly to the Crystal Tower. Which means that the experiment... was a success.”

And I gotta say, this next bit is just very enjoyable to me. The way it's written is so great.

HEH HEH.... Van Zieks has some more witnesses to summon who saw the incident from some 'very special seats', but let's end the essay here for now and pick it back up next time!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks

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