#guess who cried their eyes out watching cr

[chibivesicle]

Trigun Stampede: Episode 1 review

To avoid being lazy and falling into the subgroup of a bitter nostalgic fan who watched Trigun on a fansub VHS tape before it was dubbed or on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim, I have decided that I will faithfully review Trigun Stampede.  This will be naturally in comparison to the original anime as well as the manga.  Perhaps, I will become bitter and annoyed, perhaps not.  However, I will do my best to review it as someone who has a soft spot in her heart for the original.

It goes that I will have spoilers for things if for some odd reason you haven’t seen the original so just keep in mind it will be in context to how Stampede compares to the original.

Episode 1 starts out in space with the Project Seeds ships flying near a desert planet.  Vash is greeting all the people in the cryotubes and the ship is quickly met with disaster.  Rem has Nai [Knives] and Vash go into the escape pod, Nai tells Rem to get in but she refuses and tells them this.

She doesn’t tell Vash to take care of his brother or there is no confusion as the door shuts leaving Vash to spend 130-150 years trying to determine what Rem told him to do in regard to Knives.

Rem just cries and makes it clear that they were import to her and her life.

Thus, the anime let’s the viewer know right from the start that people crashed on the planet and we know that Vash and his brother survived and it then cuts to a SUV in the desert with Meryl driving.  Yes, the manga also starts off explaining that people crashed on the planet. But it isn’t revealed to be shown in relation to Vash, so, at the beginning of the anime we don’t know how he fits in this part of the narrative.

Meryl Stryfe is with her older colleague Roberto DeNiro and they are reporters for November Broadcasting.  It is immediately apparent that Meryl is a recent college grad and this is her first job.

We can also see she has some lofty goals to change the world for the better as a reporter.  However, she has to work with jerkass Roberto who rubs snot from his face on her resume, crumples it up into a ball and tosses it out the window.  He refuses to call her by her name, is drinking on the job and chain smoking.  Overall, I hate him and I want Milly back.  The fact that some how anal retentive detailed oriented Meryl Stryfe forgot to charge the battery (and the fact they don’t have a spare to swap out in such a place) makes me cringe.  When they walk up to Vash and she freaks out that he’s not dead cowers behind Roberto.

They are quickly found by the July Military Police (note to the subtitle peeps at CR who wrote it as JuLai) and the bad guy of the week hands them the wanted flyer.  Vash looks much more like manga/anime Vash and he’s got a six million $$ bounty - not the sixty billion one that starts both the anime and manga.

Meryl sends them off his trail for a scoop.  When Vash well, is Vash and all chatty with them, Meryl becomes such a flirty/flattered/ditz.  This is only one of her facial expression/poses of over the top cuteness and - I hate it!

Why is a professional woman, who has to prove herself acting like this?  Face it, women in the workplace deal with enough gendered shit and they went and made her all ‘Oh me? Reeeallly?? I’m just too cute uwuwuwuwu’.  Excuse me while I go barf.  Our man Roberto is already three sheets to the wind with his shirt tail sticking out as he looks resigned to be stuck with his stupid newbie and a weirdo outlaw.

Anyhoo, somehow they make it to Jeneora Rock with Vash’s wandering skills I guess.  Meryl is looking rough as they walk to the main gate.  Interestingly, she’s framed for a brief bit by a man with the weird emu/ostrich (not a thomas) creature with what appear to be metal coffins.  Are these empty waiting for bodies or already full?  Unclear.  Is this man related to the Eye of Michael or just showing the wild west images from media of old?

This leads to the first time Meryl enters a saloon (sans Milly) and it attempts to recreate that first time of a petite professional woman out in the ‘frontier’.  And it falls flat.

Yes, she gets made fun of when she enters similar to the original anime but we don’t have Meryl walking up to the barkeep, pounding her fist down and declaring the following:  A banana sundae!

This is a woman who knows what she wants and she is fucking asking for it with authority.  The animation pans to the shocked expression on the mens’ faces before showing this.

Milly may be the junior but she also knows what she wants!  This then leads to the men heckling and intimidating them which comes to a complete stop when Milly’s strap breaks on her giant stun gun and the men decide to not mess with them.  Keep in mind later in the episode when they are tied up, the minor villain, also realizes that Meryl is packing heat and backs off a bit as well.

Instead, junior reporter Meryl can barely ask for a simple water and gets mocked, by Rosa, not some burly male barkeep!  Jeez, makes for a bad taste in my mouth when she is gushing about how great Vash is and gives Roberto a pass b/c he looks wise and hardened who tries to order a whiskey - like the man he is.

They notice that the city lacks clean water (if they set up a still they could clean it FYI) but it seems the creative team wanted something super obvious for Meryl to realize she isn’t in December or November anymore.  Again, they introduce the role of plants from the get go instead of how the anime had the slow reveal about the giant light bulb things which were one of the few visual cues this isn’t an ‘old fashioned’ western.  Along with the twin suns and extra moons.

While at the dying plant the July MPs are able to show up (they left the main door open?) and want to arrest Vash for the bounty, noting it would allow the town to get a new plant.  Roberto decides to fix the solution, flask in hand by having the hot headed man duel Vash.  Honestly, his argument is tepid at best but the unnamed MP goes for it and will reveal himself to be bat shit crazy.

The reporters hang back since the quick draw is on and Vash waves looking goofy and we do get a rapid shift in his facial expression when he’s no longer in line of sight from below.  Roberto points out that Vash is a fool.

Meryl wants to help but he points out that she’d have been dead several times already.  Which is factually accurate, but he wasn’t doing a good job of mentoring her to not die either.  Compared to the original where we get a full five episodes of Meryl thinking Vash is a total goof and fool and couldn’t possibly be the legendary gunslinger, this one is quick to point out he’s not able to fit in this place.

Of course, Vash runs into the exact same issue from the original but revealed in a different way - he’s out of bullets.  However, in the first one, he’s escaping the bounty hunters in search of him and he slowly knocks them out to steal ammo from them.  This time he has a complete melt down and Rosa is willing to give 1 single bullet to Meryl to throw to him. 

Honestly, this goes for the most epic badass how the hell did he do it with a single shot blah blah blah which - didn’t give me the feels. That’s the problem, we know that Vash is going to save the day and the town seems indifferent to him if he does or doesn’t.

His arm, which has already been identified as lost technology, could break solid rock and rip it out of the ground.  I’m going to guess it likely doesn’t have a hidden machine gun in it anymore for extra protection.  Current opinions on such topics have shifted and I can see Vash having the hidden machine gun as not being as cool anymore.  

Trigun is like other anime/manga of that 80s/90s that were made for firearms nerds.  Specifically, I’m thinking of Gunsmith Cats with Rally Vincent and May (I know that I’m really dating myself know bringing up this seinen series).  Both Kenichi Sonada of Gunsmith Cats and Yashiro Nightow are seinen manga authors who are the right age to have been influenced by the western media that included crime noir/pulp/spaghetti westerns/dukes of hazard/gunsmoke etc etc stuff and it shows.  I remember an interview with Sonada which I’m 99% sure was in Animerica magazine (now, I’m really dating myself) about all his research into firearms and making trips to the States to use them at a range and all sorts of crazy stuff like that.

The crisis is averted and the July MP are sent packing and Vash pretends to be a lucky bastard yet is still chatting with Meryl and Roberto.  Roberto immediately calls him out on what his concern is and Vash just info dumps that he’s got a brother called Millions Knives.  Wow, spare us the suspense and build up Vash.   We get the flashback to the crash where it reveals in episode one that Nai orchestrated the crash, but don’t worry he saved the ship with all the plants so it is okay.

Vash can’t believe this happened and Nai makes it clear that Vash is his partner in this insanity. One of the insect birds flies to a very obvious bad guy layer where Knives is playing dramatic piano music as he learns that Vash been found and that he is to be brought to him.  Stampede is throwing down the end from the start, Knives is the big bad and he has a plot to suck Vash into his orbit.  He might have well had the long bad guy speech about how he formed the Gung Ho Guns and all that as well.  Knives, why don’t you just monologue to your crew in episode one and save us all the mystery?

For someone with a great hatred of humanity, why is he playing the piano?  He found everything about humans to be disgusting so why would he embrace a side hustle with music?  I bet Midvalley the Hornfreak has been eliminated - saxophone is too 90s.  It is 2023, bad guy with piano is in and badass sax is out.

The episode then ends with the scenes of Vash wandering and lots of sand.  It seems alright.  This was episode one, so we didn’t get our usual opening and ending so I can’t say anything just yet about the combo of both.

It seems just to mess with us, the episode doesn’t end with a philosophical preview but just this artwork.  Vash is sitting on a rock outcrop looking at a ship that has crashed in a desert landscape.  The background includes an actual photo, I wonder where it was taken.  However, it indeed does look like the desert; I lived in one for over 7 years.

At the point where the mid episode commercial break was, we got a map of what they are calling the Seven Cities.  The orange dot is showing the current location in Jeneora Rock. We can also see that July is still on the map.  Did Vash not destroy it then in Stampede?

There is also an orphanage on the map as opposed to the one associated with Wolfwood in the anime/manga located in December.  Which in both the anime and manga, December is alluded to be the most cosmopolitan and developed of the cities. 

In the anime during the two year break when Vash disappears after Augusta and the Fifth Moon Incident, Meryl and Milly are back at the Bernardelli Insurance Society’s headquarters in December. It looks like a Gilded Age East Coast American city with paved streets, proto-skyscrapers and lots of motorized vehicles.

Note that the manga points out in volume 1 of Trigun Maximum that Meryl’s coworkers celebrate her birthday. And it reveals that when Meryl first encountered Vash and Wolfwood with Milly, she was 21!  So yes, Meryl was a straight A student who completed her education and landed her job as an insurance adjuster/investigator when she was 21 and likely a recent grad and was the senior colleague to Milly!

I’d also like to note that the blonde colleague here Karen is pretty cool in the anime and manga recognizing that Meryl is an excellent employee and supports her either by preventing the other workers from being weird - or by her monologue in the anime about being happy that Meryl is chasing her career goals. 

Episode 1 conclusions:

Vash - Vash appears to be pretty much Vash.  I didn’t like his screaming/crying meltdown when he realized he had no ammo.  Somehow, realistic tears seemed weird to me.  In the anime he had the more of a comedic expression of horror.

I think the ‘Oh shit, I’ve got no bullets!’ gag worked better when it was low risk - Vash knew he could escape and no one else was involved.  Taking the stakes up to for some odd reason try to save everyone from the cluster bombs which would fall next to the town (?) when it isn’t even clear it was a necessary action makes for a weak plot beat.

He also is info dumping left and right instead of his ‘fake’ smile which isn’t called out until episode 9 ‘Murder Machine’ when Wolfwood remarks that he can actually smile. 

Apparently, Vash doesn’t like donuts anymore.  I am sad if this is the case for Stampede.  I will forever love his ability to eat half a box of donuts while running and also have a full conversation.  It makes the scene where Vash gets the large bag of fresh donuts only to break down and weep openly in public hit you so hard.

I’m not keen on how he looks in Stampede, again having a red jacket that says Project Seeds which is still in pristine condition would make the backstory obvious.  We’ll have to see if he moves the same way as super lanky Vash, but the toned down look and obvious replacement arm aren’t giving him much of an air of mystery.  It was a nice touch when Vash runs into the room where Rem has the photo of them next to an actual germanium in a terrarium with red flowers though.  We are keeping the red germanium = perseverance and tenacity.

Meryl Stryfe - As of episode 1 is the ‘worst’ of her anime/manga original chara and Milly as well.  Derringer Stryfe wouldn’t have walked into a frontier saloon and mumble she wanted a water b/c she forgot to charge the SUV battery and pack a spare to swap out!  She’d walk in and demand her banana sundae!  None of this - the real world outside the big safe city is scary, hiding behind your drunk superior.  The whole uwu bit with Vash was just bad, it makes her look shallow and self-centered.  Jumping behind Roberto more than once - not cool, not cool.  Anime Meryl had a high opinion of herself which occasionally got her in trouble but it was valid; she was a capable person who got the job done and used logic to solve her problems.  For an anime that came out in ‘98 Meryl is a character ahead of her time.  I never found her annoying, I liked her.  Only now that I’m much older, I can see that my younger self - who was younger than her at the time I saw it, she was a good strong female character who was representation for someone like me still not yet in the real world (though I avoided it with graduate school too).

For her character design, I’m also disappointed.  They kept her suit coat, earrings and navy blue tights but that’s it.  The puffer jacket/windbreaker is weird along with the beret/newsboy cap thing, jean shorts and high top sneakers.  If you are going to be in the desert and you want to wear a hat, wear one with a brim.  Okay?  Those finger less gloves - WTF?  

Milly Thompson/Roberto DeNiro - Wow, wouldn’t I as a young professional woman love to be assigned to teamed up with a chain smoking, on the clock boozing, jerkass partner who refuses to use my name?  I’m sorry, I hate his character, he’s lazy writing, decreases the female characters for the main cast and his suggestions barely move the plot in a logical direction.  You really think that July MP guy would honestly have taken is bait to quick draw against Vash?  No!  In the Trigun manga he’d just riddle Roberto with bullets and take Vash.   Hell, if it were the anime, he’d riddle Roberto with bullets.

Roberto is just Don Draper from Mad Men but bitter reporter.  He’d smell terrible from all the cigarettes and booze and sweat.  They are setting up the ultimate cheese plot point where Roberto is like, “Nice job Meryl!  You really nailed it.” and Meryl will have feelings b/c her boss who should have respected her from the start has finally decided to respect her!  The emotions!  The payoff! [excuse me while I go barf some more]

Why am I saying Milly = Roberto?  Let’s look at the preview poster again. We’ve got our four main cast members right here. Vash is riding the bird creature.  Wolfwood is holding onto Vash’s jacket sort of.  Queue the Vashwood shippers.  He’s got Punisher by the strap and he’s losing his right shoe to reveal - no socks!

What’s with the slip on shoes in the desert?  Sand, so much sand and grit and crap is going to get in your shoes and you don’t even have socks?!?!  Where are your white socks with your tan oxfords?  The anime was cheap and made them look like some sort of penny loafer, but they did animate his white socks underneath and yes, I noticed them Madhouse. 

Wolfwood you are unfashionable with your dorky white socks, but I kinda love them.  The manga has lace up oxfords which makes more sense that he’d at least wear dress shoes as a wandering priest/clergyman.  It was visually striking and didn’t make him look as somber with the all black from head to toe.  The tan shoes broke that vibe in a good way giving him a visual pop/interest and also letting others know he isn’t quite what he seems.

It might be that they want to make Wolfwood look younger and hipper and he actually looks like Wolfwood as a kid here when he killed his parental figure.

It zooms out to see him from above (sort of a ‘God’ angle) and transitions to him entering the room through him physically stepping through the door and into his new career.  He looks like he’s wearing hand-me-down shoes as a poor kid.

It goes with the hidden message, that he at least has shoes even if they aren’t the best for going outside of a small town or city.  Poor orphaned kid with his second hand too large for him shoes.  I love how we can even see that as an adult with the white socks that Wolfwood’s shoes fit, the white sock is flush with the tan while in the flashback we can see a gap between his sockless feet and the too large shoes for him.  Nice detail, nice detail.

Meryl has a camera which she’ll shoot with.  No Derringers.  In the manga there is a short several page reflection/commentary from Meryl about the use of firearms.  When I re-read it I’ll make sure to remember where b/c it was top tier writing.  She explains how her father made sure she was trained in the use of firearms as it was a necessity on the planet.  But she takes it a step further and explains what it felt like the first time she ever shot a man.  The power of her monologue keeps brings the reader back to reality and to not focus on the sheer number of people someone like Wolfwood has likely killed and how it would be tearing him apart if someone like Meryl can articulate what it feels like to have this responsibility for the rest of your life.

And Milly’s replacement is Roberto as on the poster artwork, he’s got a small pistol in his left hand.  Therefore, under that boxy ill fitting brown suit coat, Mr. Jaded and Bitter is packing heat.  Ta daaaa!  This means that with Vash, Wolfwood and him, Meryl doesn’t need to dirty her feminine little hands and use a gun.  What will his backstory be if he has one?  Former police officer? Or local sheriff or marshal who gave up and went freelance?

Kuroneko-sama - is missing!  Where is God?  What is she doing?  I have watched the first episode three times and is she there?  No!  The horror, nya!

Last thoughts!

I’ve spent the past few days watching and reading other reviews about Trigun Stampede.  This includes articles on media sites, ANN, Youtube reviews, Reddit and so forth.

Here’s what I’ve gathered

1.) There may indeed be a gender split on Meryl and Milly.  As in female fans are disappointed at the putative smashing of Meryl and Milly into one character as opposed to having two women in the main cast of four.  Roberto is also a jerk and not getting very positive reviews from women.  I think a lot of fans regardless of gender are upset at Milly’s absence but the Meryl/Roberto combo is rubbing a lot of people the wrong way for very valid reasons.  I just notice less male reviewers calling out how toxic and unprofessional Roberto’s behavior is and female viewers not keen on him at all.  Or they think Meryl is the exactly same serious career woman (sir, are we even watching the same show?).

2.) Many people were first introduced to Trigun via the dub on Adult Swim.  They were younger than me when they saw it and are from after the flex point where anime was more common and more accessible.   Some of them never watched in with the Japanese cast and didn’t get the experience of Wolfwood’s Kansai accent which gives him a bonus gold star for me.  I was already done with Trigun before the fandom had likely really solidified.  Watching things like Noir, reading Paradise Kiss, and FLCL dropping hard cash for the official DVDs after watching a file shared fan sub.  I have been told the English dub is good, but no Kansai accent.

3.) Excited by learning about the reboot at AX last summer, I watched all of the original to see if it still hit the feels.  It seems a lot of the people reacting to it haven’t gone back for a recent refresh which might make critiquing it a bit harder since several reviewers said that Meryl was a reporter from the start or can’t exactly remember what happened at various points. 

4.) Character designs are ruffling feathers.  I don’t have an issue with the CG.  I’m not a huge fan of it for animation, I prefer 2D but that is just style preference.  But the character designs for very distinct characters which have been tamed for sure.  Studio Orange is leaning hard into the sci fi element.  The manga and Madhouse were western first - by a long shot with sci fi in a distant second. 

5.) More major character role changes might be coming up. Meryl is a reporter.  And then in PV 2 we have a black screen where we can hear a voice say. “Who me?  I’m just an undertaker.”

Undertaker is specifically a British English term for a person who prepares bodies for burial or cremation.  The screen then pans to a wide expanse of the desert and we can see a figure carrying a cross.

As he walks closer it reveals Wolfwood walking forward with his fairly accurate humor.

However, if this is how he indeed introduces himself in the anime, it will have changed his actual job besides being an assassin/hired gun.

I’m not sure it could equal the comedy gold that this sequence was in episode 9.  You just know that Meryl skepticism is on the mark when she doesn’t seem to believe he’s who he says he is.

Fingers crossed, Wolfwood still gets that air of mystery by introducing himself as a priest/clergyman and not undertaker.  Vash already blew his mysterious background a bit in the first episode, at least let Wolfwood have some since there is the possibility they include the Eye of Michael in Stampede.  I saw you Livio in PV4.

Well that is all for now.  Episode 2 comes out tomorrow and we’ll see how it goes!

#trigun stampede #trigun anime #trigun #vash #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #roberto deniro #milly thompson #kuronekosama #anime review #episode review

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Harrower, Harrowing || Bad End || Sg

If I’m going down I guess I’ll take you with me

Xaaron smiled- slimy, oily and greasy all at once; a mixture of baptismal water and bile as Perceptor stared- eyes leaking starlight and pulling his mascara down in mourner’s lines over sharp features and jagged edges alike.

“B-B... And- Whirl- RATCHET!”

“Gone, thanks to your foolishness.”, crooned the head of the colony, “Do you see? Do you see what you recieve when you bit the hand that feeds you?”

“You attacked people who had nothing to do with this! Nothing to do with who I am, what I am-”

“You are out of control- And now, I have rectified it.”

Perceptor put his hands against CR chamber glass- knowing the fluid within would never repair the damage. Could never repair the damage he saw. Missing limbs, gutted cavities, blank eyes and slack jaws and blown out pupils raised skyward to show the whites like they cried for a God who had so long since abandoned them.

Perceptor’s claw-like nails screeched gently as his fingers curled and he dropped to his knees with a wail of grief. He sobbed, broken and breaking and through all things in pieces as Xaaron drifted around him like an intrusive thought, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

“You did this- with your wildness. With your mania and your unhinged glee. You brought shame to me and so I have brought ruin to you and it’s only fair. Now- Now you have no one, no one but me.”

Quark stood in the background- throat catching in fear as he saw the twitching under Perceptor’s loose clothing, and his chest aching when he glanced at the near-peaceful face of the dead and floating Brainstorm in a CR chamber.

Something ominous pulled at his brainstem like a vampire seeking entry and he turned his gaze away sharply.

Perceptor sobbed for hours- until long after Xaaron’s amusement faded. He struck the scientist and sent him sprawling and grimaced as he writhed and howled before finally curling tight like the unborn in the womb. A few sharp kicks, another angry strike and he finally huffed.

“Fine. Mourn your losses if you absolutely must. From now on- your obedience is not just expected, but DEMANDED.”

Quark watched as Perceptor fell silent- makeup smeared by tears and saliva from screaming and seeing eye blank and staring at nothing. As Xaaron floated out the door, Quark put a foot to Perceptor’s shoulder and shoved lightly.

No reaction.

A roll of eyes as Quark knelt down, “You really did bring it on yourself. If it wasn’t for your... weird breakdown, NONE of this would have happened. You didn’t just endanger the colony, you stole from ME!”

He reached down, feeling powerful for the first time since he and Perceptor became Inoculated all that time ago; and grabbed a handful of grey streaked inky black hair. He pulled, forcing the sniper’s face up to look at the no longer humming CR chambers.

“Do you see? That MTO? It was MINE. It was MINE and you KNEW IT and you still stole it from me, corrupted it and turned it against me.”

He dropped the sniper, disgusted at the heap he fell into.

“I could have made it great. I could have made it BEAUTIFUL and you made it a lunatic. And for what?”

“He is a man. Not a thing.”, whispered Perceptor, “A beautiful, mad, manic man who drove me spare- but a man nonetheless.”

“It was a mimicry of life- but I could have made it into something PERFECT-”

Quark didn’t have time to scream. The puma’s cry that ripped from Perceptor was loud and glass-shattering. The hands that sealed around Quark’s throat tightened in an iron grip and Perceptor’s now goatlike pupils blew wide as they could in rage as his mouth seemed to start splitting just a little too far to be... mortal.

“HE WAS MORE A MAN THAT YOU WILL EVER BE, WHELP OF MY VEINS, AND YOU WILL DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT NOW THAT MY SHACKLES ARE SHATTERED.”

Quark’s neck creaked from the strain as he pulled desperately at rigid wrists in an attempt to free himself.

And just like that, Perceptor let him go- getting to shaky feet to press against Ratchet’s chamber and sob softly.

“Oh, my darling- they’ve torn you down and down and I wasn’t... I wasn’t there. I’m sorry, oh I’m sorry; my first love, best love, warmest love...”

Quark watched the sniper begin to sob again- a shaking hand petting over the glass over Ratchet’s deathmask face before he bolted.

Something in the way the sniper’s voice echoed without echoing made him wonder if the side he’d chosen was the right one.

Perceptor moved his room that night- a line of drones like an assembly line as he set up his new quarters around the three chambers holding three quarters of his decomposing heart.

Xaaron watched on the cameras, intrigued but ultimately bored. Why should he care where the maniac resides? Even better that he lives where a camera is on his door directly at all times, made it easier for the paranoid usurping King to keep a close eye on him.

And keep an eye on him he did.

The first day, he slunk into the labs during Perceptor’s shift and the corners of his mouth quirked up into a ghostly smile. Gone was the click-clack of heeled shoes over tile, replaced instead with the near silent shuffling of flat soled shoes- artistic, sure, with their beadwork in deep burgundy and soft rose and wine red over black... but far more suitable, far more clean and... controlled. A small step, to be sure, but a good first.

The fifteenth day he watched the cameras, a pleased hum in his chest as he saw Perceptor whispering out of his still-new quarters draped in darkness. Wide sleeves- out of regulation but... acceptable. The darkened beadwork, the smooth shimmer of satin and linen with hair combed the way he used to. Back then, back before the Wreckers and before death touched him. 

Xaaron sat back, smiling at the shuffling mourner on his cameras, pleased at his successful taming of the cruel.

Foolish gilded man, Xaaron.

The thirtieth day, there was something of a setback. Xaaron whirled his way into the labs- taken aback at the way Quark looked dangling from Perceptor’s one handed grip. 

“WHAT IS THIS!”, he bellowed, feeling suddenly small as Perceptor dropped his prey and turned with the slow grace of a hunting beast to lock eyes with the leader of the colony.

“I will not stand for this breed of mediocre in my labs, Sir.”, was the deadpan intonation as Perceptor’s arms folded into his sleeves, “If his ego is too weak and overbred to handle being corrected when he is in the wrong, then I will correct him in the next best way.”

Xaaron blinked, unnerved at the strange eyes that stared at him from Perceptor’s scarred face- had his lips been that thin all this time...?

“Explain.”

“Quark seems to have built a habit of beating our graduate interns.”, said Perceptor, voice unchanging, “While I understand his... frustrations- I do not understand why he finds that to be a useful reaction when he was the one to misenter measurements to begin with, and when all the subordinate did was check the numbers and report as they were instructed.”

Xaaron swallowed, not liking how the room dropped into frigidity as Perceptor spoke- until he noticed. 

He could see the scientist’s scars.

“I... see.”, said the colony leader, looking to Quark, “...Is this true?”

“I REFUSE to be spoken down to- even if I am WRONG I will be spoken to as NOBILITY-”

“There is no nobility in this colony, Quark. Only ability.”, said Xaaron airily as he stepped closer, “And... Seniority. After all- Perceptor has been a supervisor much longer than you, hasn’t he?”

“I have been, Sir, yes. As well as security and defense head for many years as well.”

“Yes, no doubt where the grey came from, eh?”, laughed Xaaron, reaching out to curl the thick grey-white lock around a metal finger and tug lightly, “Very well. Carry on. Quark, you should expect to be treated as you treat others after all. What goes around comes around.”

“Indeed, Sir.”, said Perceptor, finally blinking and a smile flickering ominously over his features, “Especially when you know who the people around you belong to.”

Xaaron paused, looking to Perceptor and realizing those goat-pupils were fixated on him and so full of rage and grace it nearly overflowed like tears, “...Yes, indeed.”

Perceptor’s smile was wooden, falsified and built of balsa and expired glue as he nodded respectfully and turned his back to Xaaron, “If there is nothing else to explain, or assist with Sir- I will respectfully be returning to work.”

Quark massaged his throat, shooting a glare at Xaaron and hating how the colony head ignored him instead to stare proudly at Perceptor’s back.

“Very well, Perceptor. Excellent work.”

“Thank you.”

Quark watched as Perceptor seemed to float, not walk, away to the other side of the lab- watched the way the students and graduates watched him with a peculiar light in their eyes before their gaze turned back to him and radiated malicious glee.

He jerked to the present when he heard Xaaron walking back towards the door, following like the lackey he knew he was deep down before catching Xaaron’s elbow.

“Sir, what are you DOING!”

“...Returning to my own duties.”

“Is it wise, leaving him with those... subordinates.”, the word came out layered in displeased disgust, “For all we know he could be turning them against us!”

“Quark, people hate you because you are detestable.”, said Xaaron flatly.

Quark paused a moment, swallowing down the sting of that statement before waving a hand to clear the air of it, “My nature aside- He and I share the same infection- he GAVE it to me, after all! If anyone would know what he is up to it’s me. And I am TELLING YOU sir... he’s plotting.”

“Did you not see him, Quark?”, laughed Xaaron as his door slid open to show his expansive office, “He’s dressed like a mourning lover, his face is clear of obnoxious paint... He’s once again become the Perceptor we know and trust and NEED in this place.”

“I’m telling you- something is WRONG. He’s a stubborn bastard at the best of times and this is all a COVER-”

“Quark, please. You are both transparent and pathetic, you do realize that don’t you?”, wheedled Xaaron as they both strode into the room, “I know very well what happened with the mycomutagenic study. I have reams upon reams of lines of lies you’ve told, don’t you understand? There is no way to be secretive on my colony, I know everything.”

Xaaron took his seat at his desk, “You served me well, and I would have truly loved to pass my title on to you one day for it- but you are also a disgusting liar and a coward. I know all about your plans for the MTOs on this colony. I know all about your attempted theft of Perceptor’s work back then and I know well of your attempts to sabotage both him and Brainstorm. Please- your lies exhaust me. I’ve already sacrificed one of my best- let the other of them work, would you?”

Quark’s jaw dropped, his stutter loud as Xaaron rolled his eyes- huffing slightly to blow away some of the black dust on his console, “...Mm, Quark if you’re done embarrassing yourself, muster a few cleaning drones. The seal around my windows is dusting again.”

Another brush of his hand before his fingers flicked in a ‘begone’ gesture. Quark turned on his heel and stomped out- slamming his fist against the call button on the wall to summon a few drones.

Xaaron sighed happily as he settled in his chair, turning to look out said window over his colony as the drone trundled out and activated its vacuum attachment to begin picking up the few traces of dust around the impeccable office.

No one noticed the shadows in the drone cupboard shudder and recede slightly with a slick and slimy sound.

Perceptor smiled, way down in the labs, at the matching writhe under the scar on his chest. The smile faded quickly as he looked up at the tap to his shoulder, at the exhausted intern who smiled weakly and asked if they could have another cup of the dark coffee Perceptor brewed in his side office.

“Of course... precious.”

The days leaked into each other- punctuated only by the strange waves of fevers hitting the labs at the end of each month that oozed by. Finally, Perceptor dug his too-strong fingers into the door and forced it to slide on locked hinges; cracking the delicate electronics and he dragged Quark behind him- clawlike nails embedded in the scientists’s cheek.

He tossed him ahead, letting him sprawl on the floor as Perceptor’s face colored in rosewine rage as he stomped in with a billow of sleeves and a clatter of a new beaded shawl.

“COWARD, BASTARD ON HIGH!”, he barked before glaring at the shocked Xaaron, “THIS IS WHAT YOU GIVE ME TO WORK WITH- THIS FILTH?!”

Quark coughed, sitting up as his shredded cheek twitched like tenderized meat where it hung from the jawbones, “Sir, please, I don’t understand what he’s on about-”

“HE’S BEEN INFECTING MY SUBORDINATES! TRYING TO MAKE THRALLS OF THEM LIKE SOME CHEAP HORROR MOVIE MONSTER!”

Xaaron froze, “...What...?”

“I caught this cretin in my office- fussing around like a cockroach as he so often does.”, seethed Perceptor, his anger like glacierfrost, “I caught him leaking bloodsamples into my teamaker. My one remaining piece of home and he’s been infecting it!”

“Perceptor, please, if it’s yours in YOUR office then how-”

“I’ve been allowing the interns to use it- they continuously come in while ill. He’s been exposing them outside of the lab somehow, and tried to continue the exposure by using MY office and teamaker; no doubt to frame me.”

Perceptor glared down at Quark- the blood smeared scientist looking up to Xaaron and pleading without words for mercy or a chance to plead his case but Xaaron sighed, shaking his head.

“...Take him to the lower cells. I’d hoped that perhaps he’d have left behind his slimier behaviors but... it seems old habits die hard.”

“Sir! After all my loyalty, all my obedience and grace-”

“Useless unless it’s rooted in truth.”

“I WAS PERFECT IN YOUR NAME-”

“And yet you were the weakest link in my labs. Take him.”

Quark tried to scramble to his feet but when broad and reinforced hands closed around his upper arms and wrists and hauled him up he stared in terror as Perceptor watched him back- Xaaron shaking his head with eyes closed as Perceptor’s old manic smile flashed over the sniper’s scarred face.

“SIR NO DON’T TRUST HIM-”

Quark’s voice grew fainter and fainter as he was dragged away- soon fading out of existence.

Xaaron massaged his temples as Perceptor approached and cleared his throat.

“...My apologies for my outburst, Sir.”, he said quietly, “....If you are having a headache, I have some uninoculated tea in a thermos. It’s quite good for migraines.”

“Oh?”

“Yes- an... old friend of mine gave it to me after my... unfortunate circumstances.”

Xaaron watched the casual brush of fingers over the edge of a vibrant facial scar, and nodded resolutely, “Yes, that would be nice actually- Perhaps it will bring my appetite back from wherever it’s gone.”

Perceptor smiled, cold and unreadable as he pulled an off white thermos from the depths of sleeves and shawl and shadow, “Of course sir.”

The mass in the bottom of the thermos flattened itself at the unvoiced whims of its Master, leaking darkness into the plain hot water contained within. Perceptor watched as it poured into the thermos-cap, Xaaron taking it and sipping gently, hissing when his tongue burnt at the temperature.

“Sir, you should blow on steaming drinks to cool them.”

“Yes, yes- this really is quite lovely. Earthy, but sweet.”

“Indeed.”

Xaaron drained the cup-cap with a pleased hum, “...If it isn’t too much trouble, perhaps another little cupful?”

“Of course, my Lord.”

Xaaron brightened at that before settling further, “My Lord.... I do like the ring of that. I am, after all, far more than just a supervisor for this colony nowadays- being the population control, the economy’s focal point, the leader of thousands of loyal Kimians... I rather like that. Lord Xaaron.”

“Quite the glorious title.”

“Mm. Yes, I think I may keep that.”

Perceptor watched with well hidden glee as Xaaron sipped at the ‘tea’ the sniper had given him, and waited patiently. 

He thought back to the chambers he dwelled with- now empty of fluid and filled with the writhing masses of mycelium and rootwork needed to create a new kind of womb- a new kind of Rebirth.

“This truly is quite delicious... What kind of tea is it, exactly? The taste is heavenly but... hard to... to place...”

And then Perceptor smiled. Xaaron felt his stomach cramp- one of the few organic things left in him, and retched wetly at the feeling of something wriggling like old roots in the back of his throat.

“It’s...”, whispered Perceptor, laughing gently, “It’s my own special and private blend- cultivated in what’s left of my chest... Do you know what it’s like, precious- feeling your heart torn away and only shreds left behind while a Something rebuilds you alongside your own shaking stitches?”

Xaaron gagged, retching again as Perceptor upturned the thermos and the writhing black mass fell out like a bloodclot- already digging mycelial tendrils into the desk-console components and shorting them out before they suddenly rebooted.

Xaaron watched in horror as the screens dotted around the room, around the COLONY- now glimmered with Perceptor’s smiling face.

A hand, a clawed hand like the Devil himself, caught the colony leader’s chin and forced him to look at the sniper.

“You... DESTROYED everything I ever loved, precious.”, cooed the sniper as thick black and ashy grey leaked in lines from broken tearducts, “But you never realized that that was all that was stopping me from... becoming this.”

Xaaron went to speak- choking wetly as something found his modified vocal chords and began to corrode them far too fast.

“I will not be so foolish.”, said Perceptor, his voice shaking in sudden rage as his grip tightened, “I admit- my first thrall was stupid. Foolish. You were right not to trust him, to use him- to give him back to me like a good little boy.”

Xaaron whimpered, trying to move his limbs when sudden critical errors blasted through his nanotech enhanced brain.

“But now.... Now, foolish boy, silly weak king... I have chosen better.”

The thud against Xaaron’s door was loud- ominous. It grew in sound until the door groaned and bent and sheared in half as steel can only handle so much and Perceptor turned Xaaron’s head to show the graduates and interns and security and detail crews that had reported fevers and chills and rashes.

“Do you see them, Xaaron?”, whispered Perceptor with a smile, “Do you want to see what I can do, what you never saw me manage in the dark? Come along, precious, come along with me and I will show you.”

And Perceptor was dragging Xaaron’s unresponsive body like luggage- soon to join with Quark still being carried by the security that had fetched him but that now showed visible signs of infection and conquering.

Xaaron knew the halls and lines of his colony by heart- it took him only moments to realize they were being dragged back down to the room it all started in- the chamber storage room, the new quarters of Perceptor; the end of the line.

“You stole years and years from me, old man.” hissed Perceptor as they drew closer to a door that opened of its own accord, “You bought and sold me like cheap replacement parts and now... Now I’m going to return the favor.”

Xaaron whimpered again, hating the weak gurgle he heard in answer from Quark’s slowly overcome figure next to him- eyes bulging and rolling and bloodvessels bursting under the skin like fireworks as Perceptor’s touch left the gilded colony head for him to stand before the trio of now darkened CR chambers- spreading his arms wide and showing the now gnarled claws that seemed to overtake far more than a nailbed; far more than even the first knuckle. The entire tip of the sniper’s fingers were coated in some kind of hard carapace, like a spider’s legs.

“You liked the sound of Lord, Xaaron.”, murmured Perceptor- reaching out to the mycelium that coated the wall and floors and the sides of the tanks that hummed eerily and plucking a tendril-like sprig to tuck into dark hair and letting it spread.

He turned, eyes ghostly bright in the sockets and the thick dark fungal sludge leaking from tear ducts like the running kohl from the tear-drenched past.

“Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds...”

The words rang eerily as Perceptor’s face lost its smile and his arms once again spread.

“Give yourself to the inevitable, little ones- Obey me.”

Xaaron stared in outright terror, watching the sprig Perceptor had plucked wind through the snipers hair like a coronet before beginning to reach and solidify into a jagged crownlike appendage- watching the thornlike roughness dig into the sniper’s forehead and add to the leaking sludge like oil and angel’s irridescence during the fall.

The surge was wet- damp like half-dry saliva stains from terminal patients and the sweat on the brow of blood soaked convicts- as Kimians surged into the room to plunge hands and feet and even faces and heads into the piles of mycelia and causing the masses to surge and gurgle and throb.

Perceptor stood, his arms pulling in as one hand holding up two fingers close together.

“Rest assured, you two- I will never bury you in the Womb like the rest of this colony- no.”, said Perceptor gently, smoothly, almost fond and loving as his crowned head tilted, “No... I will keep you alive- bound in my roots and like a living placenta for the future. You will never die, not unless I say it’s time, not until I am SATISFIED with your suffering and with regards to that- oh, I’ve such sights to show you.”

A bitter, vicious laugh as the first wave crowd thinned considerably, and Xaaron swallowed and immediately retched again- feeling fungal roots tumble from his mouth and leading down, down into his stomach and realized, truly, what Perceptor had done.

He slowly looked up, and with a weak gurgled mumble, managed a single word.

“M-Mercy!”

“Oh, precious. You know what they say- No mercy from Percy.”

The CR chambers crackled.

Quark managed a syrupy sob of fear as the first CR chamber shattered apart and it’s mycelial womb wall tore apart to show Brainstorm’s old sneer. The growl rumbled from behind his chest before he looked at Perceptor... and then stepped forward to stand still.

The second chamber broke open, and Xaaron’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as Whirl’s reanimated remnant stepped free with a razorblade smile-

But it was Ratchet’s that made bile rise and scorch his throat and nose.

Claws and fangs and steam as the mycelium shriveled away and the resurrected man stretched tall. All of them- wounds filled in and patched with silver-grey-black fungal webbing, all of them standing at attention.

And then Ratchet’s new voice wetly rumbled out, “...Doooooll.”

Perceptor smiled the smile of the deranged- reaching his free hand out to gently pet Ratchet’s cheek.

“...I think I’ll call them Apprentices.”, he whispered, before looking to Xaaron, “Apprentices, to me- The Grand Maestro. And you, dear Xaaron, dear Quark- you will feed my Firstborn.”

A splatting noise, and Quark coughed his finally free mouth though slime still smeared his lips and cheeks, “Are- Are they ALIVE?!”

“To a degree.”, whispered Perceptor, “They are alive enough. They know me, they love me above all things and on my word...”

He pointed with the hand still holding up two fingers, “They will TEAR YOU APART!”

Ratchet’s Remnant roared, eyes bright white and milky as cataracts before he charged forward- and Xaaron’s world went dark. He shrieked in pain, feeling claws punching through soft eyes and reinforced skull to stab straight though the back of his head- and his limbs wouldn’t react enough for him to try and pull free. 

He heard Quark scream, but the scream cut off wetly and there was the sound of meat peeling from bone and then silence.

Perceptor watched with a quivering mouth- mourning his losses over and over and over again even as his new Apprentices looked to him with adoration they never really had in life.

This will have to be enough.

“I did not love you the way you needed in life.”, he whispered as Ratchet’s Remnant dragged the still twitching and alive Xaaron and Quark to a mycelial mound to bury them deep as a living food source, “And as punishment, you will love me the way I do not deserve in death.”

He leaned back- the fungal rootwork pushing and molding into a morbid throne of rot and decay to catch him as he hugged his knee to his chest.

“...As above, so below.”, he murmured, letting decomposed tears leak down dark lines over his face as Brainstorm’s remnant pressed a kiss to a scarred cheek- lips like autumn leaves and the smell of age all around like a miasma.

Perceptor stared forward, letting his resolve harden alongside the toxic tear traces, “Let us begin, then.”

The chorus of screams as Kimia went dark- in space and upon radar, would be heard for lightyears... Until the final Apprentice was birthed....

And, long after the first three, Perceptor would gaze fondly upon the Final Remnants years down the line.

“Quark... Xaaron.... Perhaps now. Perhaps now I can love you.”

They blinked glazed and milky eyes before their faces settle into pathetic adoration- and they kiss carapace-hardened fingertips with the hopes those hands will cup their cheeks in tenderness.

#pastelwrites #bad end #shattered glass #tw gore #tw decomp #tw just ooey gooey #hellraiser but with fungus

[ilkkawhat]

For the hurt/comfort prompts- 12 “You don’t have to be strong all the time” for Finn and Nick :)

She had no reason to believe anything was wrong.

Nick just isn't the type to respond to text while he's working a scene, his work ethic is just too strong. 

But she gets concerned when Greg returns to the lab, and Nick doesn’t.

“Where’s Nick?”

“Oh, he, uh. Wasn’t feeling good, went home,” Greg quickly explains, noticeably not meeting her eyes. 

He know something she doesn’t know. 

“Greg,” she raises her eyebrows with a warning tone in her voice.

“Alright, he’s still there, but I wouldn’t—”

She waves to Russell as she passes his office, and further waves off any attempts to stop her as she marches out of the lab and drives to the scene of the crime; an unfortunate soul who died, got buried, still alive, dug his way out and died again. 

She finds him watching over the disturbed patch of earth, resting on his knees, head bowed down. As she makes her way down the hill, her sight hitches though she can tell it’s his body that’s heaving, and she calls out to him before he falls in, himself. 

“What’re you doing here?” a thick, nasally voice asks, hiding his face as he wipes away whatever he doesn’t want her to see.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she reaches out a hand to his shoulder, and he rolls it off.

“You first,” Nick insists as Finn crosses her arms, a stubborn anger rising within her. 

“I was getting a little worried, you hadn’t texted back about our plans tonight and I know you’re not on the clock.”

“Yeah. Anniversary dinner. I haven’t forgotten, I promise.”

“So what are you doing here in the middle of the desert instead of getting dressed? I even picked out your suit this morning, with my favorite tie to go with your favorite dress.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just being thorough, making sure we didn’t miss anythin’.”

“Where’s your back up? Not supposed to be at a scene without a uniform.”

“I’m not a child, Julie.” 

“Well, Nick,” Finn matches the condescending tone in his voice. “Then I guess I’ll be your back up. Walk me through the scene.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“What do you mean? If it doesn’t matter, then what are you doing here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did something happen? Are you hurt?” 

Finn unfolds her arms, running a lap around Nick and keeping him rooted in place with a grip on each shoulder. Not a scratch on him, just some dried tears on his face and dirt under his fingernails.

“N-no,” Nick shakes his head. He bites down on a quivering lower lip, shrugging his way out of her grasp again. “This is just...a bit personal, alright? I need to be alone to sort myself out. I’m sorry. Go get ready, I’ll meet you in a bit.”

Finn doesn’t buy it.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Nicky,” Finn once again steps in front of him, in front of the hole, and wipes his cheeks with her thumbs. She presses a soft kiss on his forehead. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“Thanks, hun,” Nick returns a gentle kiss, cradling her head in his hands, embracing her as he watches the hole become deeper, and deeper, infested—an army of red ants pouring out of the depths, threatening to overtake both of them—but as their weight fills out of the hole, he hears beeping, a long tone that hasn’t faded from erupted ears, he holds her even closer, fearing that as he explodes out of this green-lit flashback, she’ll walk away from him, too. Just as everyone else did that night, leaving him to be buried twice.

To die twice.

He lets go of her, backing away with a loud gasp, rasping out for air that he suddenly feels robbed of. 

“Nick? Nick, what’s wrong?” 

He grips his chest, hand over a heart pulsing faster than an intensely beating drum. 

“Nothing! Fine. Fuh—!” he screams, pushing Finn out of the way, he falls to his knees, his hands fall into the pit, his hands sink into the loosened dirt. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...” he cries, unable to hide it anymore. “Please. Pl-please...”

Finn crouches down, lifts his hands out of the dirt, and wraps herself around him, squeezing him as tightly as she can to contain his trembling body.

“It’s okay, I got you. I got you...” Finn whispers, her own eyes shining with tears, and her heart is melting into the tear-splattered dirt beneath them, piecing together what may have happened, and yet she’s somehow still certain that the reality is far worse than anything she could come up with. 

“Okay...okay...okay...” Nick hyperventilates, tilting his head to the side where a gentle breeze is wafting against his cheek. 

“Tell me...what...what triggered you just now?” Finn tentatively asks once his heartbeat returns to normal under the palm of her hand.

“I’ll tell ya about it someday, but...just not today, alright?” Nick once again buries his face in his hands, wiping away any semblance of weakness.

“Only when you’re ready to,” Finn affirms. 

He nods, hands on his hips as he takes a few steps away from the grave.

His grave? Finn wonders. She vaguely remembers him referencing an abduction once...

He turns around to face her again, a tight frown but a certain kind of sadness in his eyes, he has to control his breathing before he speaks again, and his voice sounds so...decimated, yet his words are so down to the earth that he seems to be so afraid of that she truly believes him when he says:

“I promise.” 

#jencsi #nick x finn #nick stokes #julie finlay #csi fic #mk.fic #sorry i like to see you suffer nick #csi 15x10

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [7]

Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 7.5 OR Chapter 8

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You thought about it over Winter break.   While baking and laying around your dorm room, you’ve come to a self-revelation. You spent only a week in Jungkook’s hometown before coming back for the other two, not wanting to intrude on his family too much, and during that time, you’ve re-discovered a strengthened will. You’ve decided to abandon your unproductive heartache in favour of nurturing a new ambition, a new eagerness to flourish and thrive, and make the most out of your time here.   And Jungkook is surprised to see this fresh enthusiasm.   “You’re here early.” He steps into the kitchen to see you crouched over the counter with notebooks and textbooks sprawled out, already studying at the beginning of the semester.   “I know.” You lift your head to grin at him. “Just thought I’d get a head start. Don’t slack just cause we’re in the same class, Jeon. I won’t always give you notes when you skip.”   He approaches with a small smile. “I’m guessing the rest of your Winter break was good.”   “It was alright. It’s nice to sleep in. How was yours?”   “Lia and Eunbi kept crying when you left. I swear my family likes you more than they like me.”   “Naturally,” you taunt while batting your lashes. “I’m just so likable.”   “Uh-huh.” But that still doesn’t explain why you’re humming and smiling to yourself. It’s only eight in the morning and he wonders where the usual Little Miss Cranky went. “Did something good happen?”   “What do you mean?”   “You’re giggling to yourself.”   “I’m not giggling.” You feign a glare. “I’ve just...found new motivation to work harder. I thought about it a lot and….”   “And?”   “I’m going to get back with Seokjin,” you declare. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and you smile. “I’m going to catch up and become someone worthy of him. Someone he won’t be able to let go. I’m going to work my hardest, so he can be proud of me.”   “Huh.” The boy nods. “Well, good for you.”   “Psh, what’s with the bland response. Listen, you better look out, Jeon. I’m going to make the best portfolio ever to submit at the end of the semester.”   He grins. “Okay.”   You return to your work, finishing up reading the section while humming to yourself.    Jungkook glad you found a new vigour to strive and do your best — but he can’t help feeling unsure of your reasoning. He’s pretty sure that this isn’t it.   //   The lectures and hands-on workshops at the very start of the semester are always the blandest. Introductions are done, course outlines are looked at, and the professor drones on and on about the course’s expectations and what the assignments and examinations will look like. Jungkook isn’t exactly enthused to hear what he’ll have to get done in the coming weeks.   And it’s in this very boredom that he knows he doesn’t need to say anything about your new-found determination. Eventually class will wear you down like it does for everyone, and you’ll become indifferent again. You’ll come to your senses one way or another.   But to his surprise, you’re still very much jolly after classes.   “It hasn’t been one day and classes are already fucking me in the ass,” Taehyung groans.   “Hey, guys!” You plop down with Jungkook beside you. “I missed you. How was Christmas break?”   “It was good.” Hoseok looks up, appearing utterly exhausted with dark circles lining the area beneath his eyes.    Yoongi actively glares at you. “You’re chirpy.”   Much to his dismay, you laugh. If Yoongi was a dog, he’d probably bite you.   Jimin smiles. “Did something good happen, Y/N?”   “Actually, yeah. I just realized some things over the break and I just have more motivation to work hard, you know?”   “Can you give me some of that motivation?” Taehyung groans. “What does it take?”   “A fear of flunking and getting kicked out should be more than enough motivation,” Yoongi deadpans.   “What’s your motivation, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, the corner of his mouth curling.   “I…” You glance at Jungkook, not sure if you should tell them the truth. But after a moment of hesitation, you go for it. There’s nothing to hide. “I’m going to try to get back together with Jin.”   At once, you receive mixed reaction — Jimin goes blank, Taehyung lifts his head off to the table and Hoseok’s brows are raised, lips tight. He’s the one who breaks the silence. “Wow, that’s great, Y/N.”   You grin. “I know, right?”   “How are you going to do that?” Taehyung looks at you. “If I can ask…”   “I’m going to improve myself and become someone he wants, someone worth him.”   “But is it really up for you to decide?” Yoongi asks out of the blue, piping up as he chews some chicken in his cheek. The black-haired man looks at you lazily. “It takes two.”   “Yeah, but I can try, right?” You shrug your shoulders, wearing a small smile.   But Yoongi doesn’t accept what he hears, not in the way you want him to. “He dumped you, didn’t he? What makes you think he’ll want you back?”   “I—”   Taehyung steps in before the situation can escalate. “Yoongi.”   But the tired man ignores him, his eyes piercing, even if he gazes at you languidly. “You think you can change him or change what happened?”   “I love him.” Your eyes are glossy and there’s an overwhelming urge to block out your ears.   Yet Yoongi scoffs. “Okay. So what? Who says you won’t be dumped again?”   “Yoongi, chill it, dude,” Taehyung intervenes and Hoseok is also alert, trying to change the topic to no avail. In the meanwhile, Jimin is caught in the conflict and rendered speechless, but what hurts most is that Jungkook doesn’t defend you. He doesn’t utter a single word of support.   “Is it so bad to want him back?”   “Yeah. If he doesn’t want you back.” He shrugs. “It would be more productive if you get on with your life, got better and showed him what he missed out on. Trying to get back together with him makes you look desperate.”   “I never asked for your opinion, Yoongi.”   “Fair, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hear what I have to say. Plus, I’m just asking you questions and as of yet, I haven’t heard any answers, Y/N,” Yoongi bites back. It’s not like the friendly banter that you have with Jungkook. What Yoongi says is painful to hear, heavy on your heart. It’s argumentative with intentions to prove himself right, confrontational in a way you’ve always avoided. “Why are you setting yourself up to be hurt again? Don’t you think you deserve better than that?”   The group falls into strained silence. The tension wraps itself around your throat, robbing your breath from your lungs. Nothing is spoken, no one utters a word. They stare at you as if they’re waiting for a response, for your justifications. But they don’t need to hear it — it’ll sound like a broken record.   They’ll never don’t get it — how much you love Seokjin. How much you miss him. How much you want him back in your life. Someone who used to be your best friend, who was your entire world, your person, and how he’s turned into a complete stranger.   “Alright, guys. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?” Taehyung laughs stiffly, trying to dial it back. But you abruptly stand, grabbing your tray of food.   “Y/N.” Jungkook grabs your arm before you can walk away.   You don’t face him. “I have some stuff to do. Catch you guys later.” After dumping the tray, you walk out of the building before they can see the tears in your eyes. And they watch your backside until you’ve disappeared from the dining center.   “You’ve really done it now,” Hoseok chides Yoongi.   The male shrugs. “Was I wrong? She needed to hear it from someone and apparently I’m the only one willing to be the bad guy.”   //   You continue to march across campus with no destination in mind, merely attempting to find some peace and quiet. You tear open the door to the west wing, sniffling as your breath heaves, and at your hasty pace, you fail to notice another person walking in the opposite direction until your shoulders collide with one another.   “S-Sorry.”   The rounded, short girl regards you with bright eyes, wearing a white apron and jeans. “It’s okay—oh, Y/N, right?”    “Do I….know you?”   “I’m Yoo Aeri. We met each other on orientation day, remember?”   “Oh my god.” It was four months ago, but you can vaguely recall the first person you befriended. You were so happy that you met someone friendly that you told Seokjin right away, even if you forgot to exchange contact information. “I remember now. I’m so sorry I forgot, my mind lately is just…”   She laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I actually switched into the culinary program recently.”   “Oh, really? That’s super cool. I heard it was hard.”   “It is a little, but the Baking and Pastry Arts program is a lot more competitive. I just found it wasn’t for me.”   “I know what you mean. I can get pretty tough.”   Aeri smiles and you realize she’s holding a plastic wrapped plate when she thrusts it towards you. “I’m actually walking around right now to see if someone wants to eat this — It’s seared salmon I made in class, but I made too much. As usual. Do you want to have lunch with me?”   You’ve never had such a proposition before. “I’d love to.”   //   8:12 pm. Jungkook: is the plan still on?   Every so often when Jungkook’s sick of you complaining about the vile food at the dining hall, the both of you go out to grab a bite to eat off-campus. His wallet cries but he has to admit that it’s fun.   Tonight though, you haven’t knocked on his dorm room yet and he hasn’t been in contact with you since lunch. Jungkook wonders passingly if you’ve permanently ghosted him — if so, he doesn’t know why he’s being punished for Yoongi’s actions.   8:14 pm. Y/N: oh yeah sorry 8:14 pm. Y/N: not tonight   The moment he gets the message, his brows shoot to his hairline. Jungkook audibly groans.    You should’ve told him sooner. He can’t get a good meal in the dining center when it closes in just fifteen minutes. But Jungkook wonders if you’re underneath your covers crying, if you’re really that weak willed to be broken down so easily by a few words from Yoongi, but then—   8:16 pm. Y/N: made a new friend   Wow. So you ditched his ass for someone else — now Jungkook has zero sympathy for you.   With the annoyance of a lifetime, he grabs his coat and decides to go out anyways. He doesn’t need you. He can enjoy a perfectly good meal off-campus by himself.   It takes Jungkook fifteen minutes by bus to get to the bustling street. He enters the cozy pizza restaurant down the block that you’ve both gone to a few times and orders takeout. He waits at the front playing a game on his phone to pass the time, hoping he can get home soon and enjoy the food in the comfort of his own bed.   But Jungkook’s ears perk when it catches loud voices that draw his attention. He naturally lifts his head. It’s a mistake.   He can’t even act that he doesn’t know them, that he didn’t see them, not when his eyes connect directly with Jin’s and they look at each other.   Yet, to Jungkook’s surprise, the older man stops with a smile. “Hey!”   The best way to describe his relationship with Seokjin was that they are acquaintances — similar to how he would’ve called you, excluding the recent months. Jungkook knows Jin from high school, saw him in the halls but they seldom spoke to each other. They hear things about one another but that’s the furthest extent of their interactions.   Until now.   “Are you here alone?”   “Yeah I’m just grabbing some takeout.” Jungkook awkwardly hitches a thumb over his shoulder.   Seokjin nods, plump lips naturally pouted. “Were you in the area?”   “Not really. I came from school.”   “Oh, that’s actually pretty far. I’m surprised you didn’t just do delivery.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes double. He feels like an idiot. “Oh shit, actually?! I didn’t know they had delivery!” He could’ve saved himself half an hour.   Seokjin grins. “Yeah, but it costs an extra two dollars.”   “Guess I’m saving money then.” He feels bitter. Sincerely, you are the curse of his life. Jungkook would’ve never been in this situation if he didn’t feel a need to imaginarily prove you wrong in his mind.   “Jin!” One of his male friends calls out, signaling him over as the waitress shows the rest of his friends to a table.   “I’ll be there in a minute.”   Jungkook can kind of understand the sad state you were in after the breakup. Aside from Seokjin’s handsomeness that even renders Jungkook speechless at some angles, it’s evident that Jin has a good personality. He’s friendly and warm, despite being an acquaintance. And Jin never once treated him poorly even back when he had his feud with you.   “Want to step outside for a minute?” Jungkook asks. “It’s kind of loud in here.”   “Sure.”   The two of them exit the restaurant and become enveloped in the chilly air. It is quiet out here, almost too quiet. They can finally hear each other properly but Jungkook finds his thoughts are deafeningly loud.    “So, what did you end up ordering?”   “Three sausage and two pepperoni.” Jungkook’s fond of the way you always call him a meathead as he stuffs his face with it. “It’s my favourite.”   “Oh really? I’m more of a pineapple man, myself.”   “I’ll admit, I hated pineapple myself until Y/N changed my mind.”   Seokjin grins. “She did for me too. How is she, by the way?”   “She’s...fine. Enough to drive me crazy.” Jungkook sighs with the force of his entire being and Jin nods with the corner of his mouth quirked.    “I'll admit, I was pretty surprised when I heard through the grapevine that you guys became friends. But I’m glad she has someone with her.”   “We’re not like that.”   Jin hums. “Doesn’t change the fact that she has someone to support her.”   There’s a pause. “Can I ask you something?”   It’s the reason Jungkook went out of his way to ask him to come outside. He’s curious and maybe it’s not his place to be, but he’s always felt more involved than he should be. Jungkook wants to understand, to clear his confusion, to hear the other side of the story.   “Depends on what it is.” Seokjin smiles.   “Why did you break up with Y/N?”   You had never really told him the reasoning, and he’ll admit it was bizarre when the two of you split. Jungkook always thought you were one of those irritating high-school sweetheart couples that would eventually get married and settle down with one another. The kind of couple that would get their love story posted in the newspaper after their seventy year anniversary.    A picture-perfect happily ever after.   Seokjin sighs, a cloud of condensation emitted through his parted lips. He leans against the brick wall and looks up at the night sky. “Sometimes...there doesn’t need to be a bad reason or a red flag or some kind of deal breaker.”   “Then why?”   Seokjin shrugs. “I always felt like Y/N loved me a lot more than I loved her. Always.”   “Sometimes, it felt like she put me on a pedestal. Other times, I think I made her feel inadequate. But she was always willing to give up everything for me.” Their eyes connect, Jin’s sheepish and soft. “And for me, I constantly felt like I had to play the part of a good boyfriend, rather than be one because it came naturally. It made me feel guilty. She didn’t do anything wrong. I think I just realized sooner that we weren’t the ones for each other.”   A disconnect. Jin liked you — he adored you — but you loved him wholeheartedly with your entire soul. Even now you still earnestly love Jin.   Jungkook isn’t sure what to do with the new information. But he suddenly feels bad for you. More than he ever has.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #jungkook reader insert #jungkook x reader #y'all this is a shorter chapter than usual #but last chapter was also a lot longer than usual #ANYWAYS I hope this gives you the answers you were looking for lol

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 14 - Thank you, Santa

Military Coming Home AU: Beca tells Chloe she won't be home for Christmas.

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Sgt. Beca Mitchell was video chatting with her wife, Chloe, on WhatsApp. The conversation was a bit tense after Beca told Chloe she wouldn't be able to make it home for Christmas.

"Chlo, you know I'd be there if I could," Beca said.

"I know," Chloe said softly. "I just miss you so much. You haven't been home for Christmas in over two years."

"I know," Beca said with a sigh.

"And it's not like we're at war right now," Chloe said. "Why can't they let you come home? Your dad and my folks have all said they'd help pay for your trip. They want to see you as badly as I do."

Beca sighed and stared at her wife as Chloe wiped at the tears in her eyes. "Please stop crying. You know I hate to see you cry, especially when it's because of me."

"I'm sorry," Chloe said, sniffling and wiping her face. She forced a smile, and said, "So, Brey and Stacie are having a Christmas Party."

Beca smiled at the sudden change of topic, knowing it was Chloe's way of dealing with her emotions.

"Yeah?" Beca asked. "Are the Bellas going to be there, too?"

"Emily, Jessica, and Fat Amy will be there," Chloe said. "The rest aren't able to make it."

"Sgt. Mitchell?"

"I'm sorry, babe," Beca said. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later. I love you!"

"I love you, too," Chloe said. "Stay safe!"

"Always," Beca said, smiling and blowing Chloe a kiss.

~~ Day 14 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

"CR and Ashley are coming home for Christmas," Chloe told Beca on their next WhatsApp video call. "Why can the Air Force and Navy send soldiers home for Christmas, but not the Army?"

"It doesn't work like that, babe," Beca said.

"It should," Chloe said. "The Army sucks!"

"I know," Beca said. "But it is what I signed up for, and by virtue of marrying me, so did you."

"I know," Chloe said. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. Sometimes I wish-."

Chloe paused and looked at Beca.

"Sometimes you wish what?" Beca asked, raising her brow. "That you never married me?"

"NO!" Chloe said quickly. "I'd never wish that. I love you, Beca, so, so much. I was going to say sometimes I wish you had never joined the Army."

"But, I did," Beca said. "You knew I was a soldier when we met."

"I know that!" Chloe said. "And I love that you want to serve our country." Chloe's voice broke as she added, "What I don't love, is the families that are left at home not knowing when, or if, they'll see their loved ones again! I have to go."

Chloe ended the call and cried. She didn't bother to even try to curtail her tears. She cried because she missed Beca. She cried because she had yelled at Beca and Beca didn't deserve that.

Chloe knew she owed Beca an apology, so once she calmed down, she initiated another video call with Beca.

"Hey," Beca said, accepting the call.

"Hey," Chloe said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to be yelled at. I'm just so frustrated at how much I miss you, and can't see you, or hug you, or kiss you. I miss all that."

"I get it, I do," Beca said. "I want to see you in person and hug you and kiss you, too. I'm going to see if I can get permission to take some leave and come home. I know I won't be able to do it for Christmas, but I'll try to make it as soon as possible."

"I'll take it," Chloe said, smiling at Beca. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Beca said. "Things have been quiet here, so I should be able to call you on Christmas. Maybe we can video chat while you're at Stacie and Aubrey's party."

"I'd like that," Chloe said. "I'm sure the girls would love to see and talk to you, too. They are always asking about you."

"I miss those crazy nerds," Beca said smiling.

"God, I love that smile," Chloe said, causing Beca to blush.

"Stop it," Beca said.

"I really am sorry for taking my frustration out on you," Chloe said.

"It's forgotten," Beca said. "I should go. I'll talk to you soon. I love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe said. "Stay safe!"

"Always," Beca responded and ended the call.

~~ Day 14 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

On Christmas Eve, Chloe pulled up WhatsApp and initiated a video chat with Beca.

"Hey, babe," Beca said, answering the call. "Where are you?"

Chloe looked around. "I'm spending tonight at Brey and Stacie's. They didn't want me to be alone on Christmas morning. This way I get to see Bella open her gifts from Santa."

"That's good," Beca said. "What's a good time for us to talk tomorrow?"

"The party is supposed to start at one my time," Chloe said.

"That's good," Beca said. "It's still early enough here that I should be able to talk for a while. Hopefully, I can talk with everyone."

"I'll make sure to keep them to a time limit," Chloe said. "After they're done, I can hide out in my room and we can chat privately."

"Why, Mrs. Mitchell," Beca said, waggling her eyebrows. "Are we going to have one of those kinds of chats?"

Chloe laughed. "Stop, you perv. If I can't have you physically participating, it's not worth it."

"Speak for yourself" Beca laughed. "I love watching you."

"You need to stop," Chloe said. "Or this might turn into one of those calls."

"Would that be so-"

"Chloe?" Aubrey said as she opened the bedroom door. "Lunch is ready."

"Hey, Posen," Beca said from the computer screen. "Impeccable timing as usual."

"Oh, hi, Beca," Aubrey said, looking at Beca. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you two were talking."

"It's okay," Chloe said. "We were just finishing up."

"We were?" Beca asked, pouting.

"Yes, we were," Chloe said and laughed. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Maybe."

"Fine," Beca said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe said. "Stay safe!"

"Always," Beca said. "Bye, Aubrey."

"Bye, Beca," Aubrey said.

Chloe ended the call and closed her laptop.

"I really am sorry, Chloe," Aubrey said.

"It's okay, Brey," Chloe said. "I'll get to talk to her tomorrow."

~~ Day 14 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

On Christmas morning, Chloe was awakened by a very excited four-year-old Bella Conrad.

"Aunt Chloe," Bella yelled as she bounced on Chloe's bed. "Santa came. Get up!"

"I'm up. I'm up," Chloe said, sitting up.

"Mommy said breakfast is ready," Bella said as she slid off the bed and ran toward the door.

Chloe flopped back on the bed, stretching her arms over her head. She ran a hand through her hair and wiped her eyes before sitting up on the side of the bed.

"Aunt Chloe!" Bella yelled from the doorway. "Breakfast is ready!"

"I heard you," Chloe said, standing and slowly made her way to the door.

"Hurry up," Bella said as she grabbed Chloe's hand and led her to the kitchen.

"Good morning, sunshine," Stacie said to Chloe.

"Bite me," Chloe said, as she took a seat at the counter, placing her head on her arms.

"Chloe!" Aubrey admonished. "A c-h-i-l-d is present."

"Presents?" Bella squealed. "Is it time to open presents?"

Stacie laughed. "Not until after we eat."

"Darn it!" Bella said, crossing her arms and pouting.

Chloe laughed.

"Don't encourage her, Chloe," Aubrey said.

"Sorry," Chloe said. "She's just so darned cute when she pouts."

Aubrey set a cup of coffee in front of Chloe as Stacie plated the food.

Breakfast was finally over, much to Bella's delight. Chloe watched Bella open her gifts, with a sad, thoughtful smile on her face.

"You okay, Chlo?" Aubrey asked, looking at Chloe.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I'm just thinking about Beca and what it will be like when we have kids."

"What time is Beca calling today?" Stacie asked.

"I told her the party started at one," Chloe said. "I'm guessing she'll call a little after that."

~~ Day 14 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Chloe helped Stacie and Aubrey get everything ready for the party. It was a little before one when the doorbell rang.

"Looks like our first guests are arriving," Stacie said as she and Bella went to the door.

Stacie opened the door and found Santa standing on their porch.

"Santa!" Belle squealed and clapped her hands.

"Ho, ho, ho, Bella!" Santa said.

"Um, Santa?" Stacie said, her brows furrowed. "What brings you here?"

"I have a special delivery," Santa said.

Aubrey and Chloe moved to look over Stacie's shoulder.

"Who is that?" Chloe whispered to Aubrey.

"I have no idea," Aubrey whispered back. "We didn't ask anyone to be Santa."

"Come in, Santa," Bella said, stepping outside to grab Santa's hand.

"Bella!" Stacie yelled, reaching for her daughter.

"No!" Aubrey cried, reaching out as well.

"Why not?" Bella asked, standing outside the door, holding Santa's hand.

"I, uh, I don't know him," Aubrey said, as she stood next to Stacie.

"It's Santa, mama," Bella said (the duh was not said, but heavily implied).

"Come on, Brey," Stacie whispered. "What harm could there be in letting him in? He knows Bella's name so he has to be someone we know."

Aubrey looked at Santa and then at the hopeful look on Bella's face.

"Okay, let him in," Aubrey finally relented.

"Yay!" Bella yelled. "Come on, Santa."

Santa threw his sack over his back and followed Bella into the house. Aubrey kept her eye on him the whole time.

"So, where's this special delivery you have?" Stacie asked.

Santa set his bag down and opened it. He pulled out three wrapped packages and reached into the bag and stood.

"There's supposed to be a fourth gift," Santa said. "The last one must have fallen out in my truck, um, my sleigh. I'll go get it. But first,-."

Santa handed a gift to Bella, Aubrey, and Stacie. "You can open these while I get the last gift."

Santa turned and hurried outside, yelling "I'll be right back" over his shoulder.

Bella sat down and ripped the paper from her gift. Stacie and Aubrey just stood, looking confused as they held their gifts and watched Bella open hers.

"Look, mommy," Bella said, holding up an army shirt with her name on it. "It's just like Aunt Beca's."

Chloe walked over to the two mothers. "I think Santa is Jesse," she whispered.

"Really?" Aubrey asked. "Why would he be doing all this?"

"Maybe Beca put him up to it," Stacie mumbled.

"She didn't say anything to me about it," Chloe said. "But, Bella's gift makes me think she is behind it."

"I wonder what she sent for you," Aubrey said.

Santa was back, carrying a wrapped package, and handed it to Chloe.

"You need to open this last," Santa said.

"Open your gift, Brey," Stacie said, ripping the paper on hers. "So, Chloe can open hers."

Aubrey ripped the paper from hers.

"I got a red cashmere sweater," Stacie said, holding up the sweater for them to see.

"I got a green one," Aubrey said, showing it as well. "They're beautiful."

"Open yours, Chloe," Stacie said.

Chloe ripped the paper and set the box down. She lifted the lid and saw a laptop sitting inside.

"She sent me a laptop?" Choe said. "There's a note on top."

Chloe lifted the note and opened it. "It just says play me."

"So, play it," Aubrey said.

Chloe lifted the laptop out of the box and opened the lid. She held the laptop in front of herself as Stacie and Aubrey stood on each side so they could see. Chloe pressed play and Beca's face popped up on the screen.

"Hey, babe," Beca said through the laptop. "I know you were expecting me to Skype during the party today, but something came up and I won't be able to do that."

"That's it," Chloe said, looking at Aubrey and then at Stacie. "It just stops. I wonder what happened? Why can't she Skype?"

"Because she wanted to do it in person," Santa said.

The three women looked over at him.

"Aunt Beca!" Bella yelled and ran to the door.

"Hey, Bella," Beca said, leaning down and grabbing Bella up in her arms.

"Aunt Beca?" Chloe said and looked toward the door. "Beca!"

Chloe shoved the laptop at Aubrey and ran toward Beca. Beca quickly set Bella down and braced herself to catch Chloe. Chloe launched herself at Beca and smashed their lips together. Beca held her around the waist and spun her around.

"I love you," Chloe said, pulling back from the kiss.

"I love you, too," Beca said, reclaiming Chloe's lips.

"We want a Beca hug, too," Stacie said, causing the couple to break their kiss.

Chloe held onto Beca while Stacie and Aubrey gave her a quick hug.

"Can we go home now?" Chloe asked, staring at Beca.

"Shortstuff!" Fat Amy's voice called from the doorway.

Beca looked over her shoulder to see Fat Amy standing by the door.

"I think that means we're staying," Beca whispered to Chloe before turning back toward Amy.

"Oh, my stars!" Emily squealed as she entered the house. "Beca's home!"

"Beca made it home?!" cried Jessica and Ashley as they entered behind Emily.

CR entered and smiled when she saw Beca. All the friends moved as one toward Beca, and Beca was soon lost in a sea of hugs.

Chloe slipped away from the hug circle and walked over to Santa. She hugged him and whispered, "Thank you, Santa Jesse."

"You're welcome, Chloe."

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A/N: I know I'm a day behind, but I hope to catch up in the next couple of days.

#bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Christmas 2020 #bechloe fic

[jackie5656]

Feelings On Safety With;Diego Hargreeves

If it weren’t for the pouring rain outside her apartment, perhaps y/n could fall asleep. But even if the storm had subsided, she doubts her current anxiety could let her succumb to slumber. Usually she’d be able to sleep when Diego is out patrolling, knowing he’d notify her if anything had ever gone south during one of is patrols. Tonight is different though, earlier in the day the two had a terrible fight about said patrols. A group of men had robbed a grocery store just a few days before, having killed three civilians in the process. Diego, having had wormed himself in on yet another police investigation, had discovered the group was suspected to be hitting another business sometime in the next week. 

This wasn’t just any other two-man home invasion on her boyfriend’s usual radar. These men were strategic criminals, prepared to kill if they had to. Needless to say it was a heated argument, one in which y/n had become  overwhelmingly upset. Overcome with the thought of Diego getting too in over his head and not making it home this time, she went off on him. 

“Maybe if you still weren’t so caught up on your fragile ass ego you’d know when to leave this shit to the cops!”

She shuddered at the memory, willing it away with a quick shake of her head. It was a low blow, she knew it as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Considering his past with the police academy and Patch. At birth he was number two, constantly reminded he wasn’t good enough. Y/n was well aware of the fact that she was one of the only people that knew so much of her boyfriends messy past. Her heart wrenching at the thought of the pained look in his eyes as he snatched his harness and stormed out of their shared apartment without another word. 

The kitchen clock read 2 am, taunting her pacing figure with each malicious tick. Diego’s patrols always had her nervous, but the thought of her last words to him being so cruel were eating her up inside. Knawing on her fingernails, she willed back tears in order to keep calm. He’s gonna come home...He has to.

The living room tv took her attention away from the clock, a “Breaking News” across the screen catching her eye as she practically dove towards it. Frantically turning up the volume, she watched as the anchor spoke about the recent robbing of local businesses. The six men had been caught and taken into police custody an hour ago, further details of the arrest would be released once the police gave the public an official statement. He did it.

As if on cue, the sound of keys jiggling outside had made her jump. Her eager pace allowing her to reach the front door as it opened and Diego stumbled inside. Effectively falling into his girlfriends arms as he groaned.

“Jesus Diego what the hell happened?” 

“It’s nothing, just-mmph  scrawny bastards had to tag team me.” He straightened up and limped towards the kitchen sink as he spoke, leaning against it with another groan as y/n hurriedly retrieved a first aid kit from the coat closet. No words were exchanged as he watched her place the kit on the counter and look to where his hands were holding his side. Smaller hands gently lifting the soaked fabric of his shirt, letting out a small gasp at the nasty gash on his side.

“B-bullet grazed me.” He explained through gritted teeth, her shorter figure slightly jumping as she held gauze to the wound to stop the bleeding.

“I’ll have to put some alcohol on it.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, avoiding his eyes as he nodded. Little words were exchanged as she worked, only small grunts or hisses of pain from Diego and mutters of apology from her. 

He was still mad, understandably so. Y/n could tell by his stiff stance as she tended to his other wounds, his furrowed eyebrows as she dabbed the cuts on his face. The whole time avoiding her worried eyes. Y/n was well aware Diego was too stubborn to bring up, or perhaps too hurt to. Her heart wrenched at the thought, willing back tears as she worked.

Diego looked down to the girl below him, quietly huffing as the sleeves to her-his sweater repeatedly slid down her arms as she moved them, the fabric effectively swamping her hands before she rolled them up once more. He shuddered as her fingers brushed against his skin, silently willing his heart to slow at their proximity. Even after two years, he found himself affected by her presence. Sometimes, he wondered if she had powers of her own...Her damn eyes, he swore they were magic by the way they could read him. But they were distant now, much more focused on his wounds and her feet than him. Which reminded Diego why his hands were clutching the cold marble countertops instead of her.

He remembered her words, the way they slipped past her lips with such ferocity and emotion. Her features immediately filling with regret. Her mouth falling open, he assumed to apologize but he was out the door before she could even blink.

In truth, Diego hated nothing more than weakness. But anger didn’t exactly coincide with weakness, anger was easy. Anger is simple...You get pissed off, you punch something and move on. For as long as Diego could remeber he was mad. Whether it was his bastard of a father, his siblings, or his infuriating stutter. His entire life he was angry, until he met y/n.

The way she cared about him, the only person who ever truly had without having been programmed to. It was completely overwhelming, all of it. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her everything. She helped him tear down walls he hadn’t even known he’d built around himself. So what was he to do when the one person he went to with his feelings was the one that hurt them?

His internal dialogue was interrupted by a small sniffle, attention snapping to his girlfriend. Now hurriedly picking up miscellaneous band aid and gauze wrappers in her hands. (Actually, Diego Hargreeves hated nothing more than seeing y/n cry)

“H-hey, hey. D-don’t cr-cry.” His words were mumbled at first, before he cleared his throat and mentally pictured each letter to form the words he so desperately wanted to come out.

Y/n quickly wiped her sleeve across her face, brows furrowing in frustration at her tears.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“It really, it really doesn’t hurt that bad bab-”

“No Diego. No, I mean I’m sorry about what I said to you. It-It was so, so terrible and I really didn’t mean any of it. It’s just, you’re so quick to go and save people and sometimes I think you forget what could happen to you. Y-you forget that I’m at home waiting for you. And I know, I know when we got together you warned me about what you do and I get it. You save people, I know that. But I’m always wondering if you’re okay and it’s s-so scary sometimes baby. And if something had happened to you tonight...After what I said I-I couldn’t live with myself Diego I-”

“Woah, woah. Hey, I’m n-not g-g-going anywher o-okay?” Diego interuppted he rambling with his own stuttered words. Trying desperately to calm her sobs whilst willing each syllable to come together. He was holding her in his lap now, somehow having shuffled the both of them to their befroom between her hiccuped cries.

“No, no Di you don-you don’t get it. I can’t lose you okay? Sometimes you’re too brave for you’re own good and it’s fucking terrifying. It doesn’t make what I said right, but I just don’t want to lose you.” Her arms around him tightened as she took a shaky breath from in between his neck and shoulder.

“I kn-know.”

“I’m so sorry Diego.”

“I know, it’s o-okay. I promise I’m n-not g-g-going to l-le-lea-” He grunted in frustration as the words escaped his mind, his mind moving too fast for his damn tongue to process.

Y/n lifted her head from his shoulder, gently grabbing his face so he could look at her. Her thumb softly wiping away the warm tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Calm down Di, let the words come to you. I hear you bab-” she was cut off by his lips against hers. Large hands coming up to cup her face in an effort to express what he was trying to say in a different way. She reciprocated just as passionately, hands holding each other as close as possible as if to seal the unspoken words in a communication only they would know.

Eventually, Diego reluctantly pulled away from her. Foreheads pressing together as he let out a soft chuckle.

“What?”

“I g-guess you were kinda right too. About the whole ‘fragile ass ego’ thing. Considering I almost bled out on the way here. But you should really see the other guys.”

“Jesus Christ, Diego.”

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves one shot #imagines #fanfic #diego hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #netflix #The Umbrella Acacdemy #ben hargreeves #number five #number two #tua vanya #tua fanfic #tua netflix #tua number five #tua number two

[writingpaperghost]

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4: An Operation Called Dash!

The newest Rider appears. He's a bit of a character, but aren't they all?

Yeah, so after some thinking, I never decided to change Kiriya. Also, Kiriya is very fun to write.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/82153645

Emu looked through the file for his next patient. He still couldn’t believe that he’d lost his Gashat to Nico the day before. When he’d agreed to that wager with her… It wasn’t that he didn’t know she was skilled, even before remembering who she was, he just knew that she had to be. No, he’d just thought that he’d be able to win, having at least a few more days of experience as a Rider… She’d saved his life, but she’d also taken his Gashat. How was he supposed to fight Bugsters and help their patients now?

Emu tried to read the file again. Kiriya Kujo, it read, age six. Okay, sure, that was easy, he should be here any minute now. He was just going to go over some of the details again really quick before he gets here…

“Hey.” A voice that is definitely not that of a child’s says, prompting Emu to spin around and face the doorway. Standing there was a man in a red jacket, wearing an ugly red and yellow poppy printed shirt underneath. There’s a nervous man following behind him. The first man plops down on the examination bed.

“Sir, I have a patient soon,” Emu blinks, responding in a bewildered tone. It wasn’t like it was normal for someone to just walk in here.

The man responds perhaps a bit to gleefully, “Yeah, me,” He leans forward, throwing his arm around Emu’s shoulders, causing Emu to stiffen none to subtly. “Name’s Kiriya Kujo.”

There were several things spiraling around Emu’s brain at that moment. Most prominently, this man, Kiriya, was touching him. Just like touching him. And not stopping. Emu did not like that, but also didn’t exactly have a lot of room to move around. Second, and the one that Emu voiced was… “You’re not six.”

“Nope!” Kiriya nods cheerfully, “Listen, my friend here, he’s really sick and I think it’s right up your ally. You see, he’s got this little thing called Game Disease, you know what that is. I figure you can help.”

Finally, he pulled away, allowing Emu’s brain to work properly. He stares at Kiriya for a moment, wondering how to respond. “Well… I don’t exactly have my Gashat right now,” He said, “And shouldn’t you just take this to the CR as a whole?”

Kiriya claps him on the back of the shoulder, causing Emu to flinch, “Not to worry, Ace!” He declared, “I’ll get that Gashat back for you! You just worry about your new patient.”

---

Masamune Dan walks into the CR with the casual manner of someone who owned the place. He didn’t, but he contributed greatly to it and the technology used against Game Disease and Bugsters. He’s greeted by Haima and Poppy, both of whom seems to be somewhat startled to see him.

“What brings you here?” The director asks, “You hadn’t mentioned a visit…”

“There are simply a few things I wish to speak to you about, Director Kagami,” Masamune responded, “With the knowledge that Zero Day was caused by a glitch in ten Gemn Corp game prototypes, placed there by my son. Kuroto used a demonstration that day to spread the disease.”

Poppy pipes in, “He disappeared after and lots of people were infected,” She recalls, “And those games represent the ten strains of Game Disease.”

Masamune nods, “Yes, we’ve spent the past six years refining those prototypes, until they were more usable, resulting in the Gashats currently in the possession of the four Riders.” Haima and Poppy’s brows furrow at the mention of there being four Riders. They’d only had Para-DX, Brave, and Snipe… but there must have been someone they were forgetting. “I thought it would be pertinent to inform you that we’ve begun to refine four more, to be used with the four currently completed.”

Director Kagami nods, “Yes, thank you for informing us,” He looks at Masamune, “That will certainly be very helpful in fighting the Bugsters and clearing all the strains of Game Disease.”

Then, Poppy gets a call. Masamune watches and listens, at an unfamiliar voice on the other end. “Poppy,” The voice said, “I’ve found a patient, get Saki.”

“Emu, really?” Poppy asked, “How?”

“It’s a bit of a story, just get here.” Masamune noted that this “Emu” was the one that Saki had talked about before. He kept that information for later, he’d need to look into him.

---

Emu sat across from their newest patient, Yoshitaka Nishiwaka. “I really don’t care what happens to me,” He said, nervous but apathetic at the same time.

“Don’t worry,” Emu smiled, ignoring the nagging feeling that something was wrong, “Saki’s great at this. She’ll cure you in no time.”

Before any response could be given, Asuna’s voice cut in, “You,” Emu turned, seeing Asuna glaring at Kiriya, with Saki standing beside her, her face a neutral expression.

Hesitantly, Emu asks, “You know him?”

“Three years ago,” Asuna began, “Kiriya Kujo found out about Zero Day and bargained his silence for a Gamer Driver and a Gashat. We haven’t seen much of him since, until now.”

Looking over at Kiriya, who didn’t seem terribly bothered by Asuna’s words and their harshness, Emu wondered aloud, “Then why did you need our help? Why not cure Mr. Nishiwaka’s Game Disease on your own?”

No answer was provided. Instead, the loud voice of Nico yelling was heard, “Hey, weird dude! What did you even want me here for?” She stamps over to Kiriya and glares at him, “If this is some joke then you better get running because I’m not nice to jokesters.”

Kiriya responds by moving his hands in what Emu suspects is supposed to be a placating motion, standing up and walking away a bit. “I had a friend who died on Zero Day,” He said.

Before he could elaborate, Nishiwaka, still sitting at the table, cries out and a Bugster appeared, taking the appearance of a wheel. Emu sighs, knowing that even with his Gashat he wouldn’t be much help.

“Hey, gamer girl!” Kiriya called out, catching Nico’s attention.

“That’s Genius Gamer N!”

“Whatever, how about a game?” Kiriya shrugged, pulling a Gashat and Gamer Driver out, “Whoever beats that Bugster gets Ace’s Gashat.”

Bakusou Bikes!

Nico runs up, “Oh, you’re on!”

Bang Bang Shooting!

Let’s game! Metcha game! Mucha game! What’s your name? I’m a Kamen Rider!

When the character selection screen appeared around Kiriya, he kicked his selection. Around him, his Level 1 armor began to form. Notably, he had handlebars on the sides of his head and tires connected to his arms.

“How extra,” Emu muttered, watching the transformation.

The two quickly began to fight the wheel Bugster, Nico choosing to utilize her gun to shoot from afar, and Kiriya using the wheels on his arm to hit the Bugster. After a bit, Kiriya gets a power up from the things that spawned for him, some kind of trophy, and manages to beat the Bugster, causing it to change forms. Now the Bugster looked like the final racing opponent from Bakusou Bikes, Motors. He quickly summons a motorcycle that’s also a Bugster and begins to speed off.

Level Up! Ba-Ba-Bang! Bang-Ba-Bang! (Yow!) Bang Bang Shooting!

Nico quickly transforms to Level 2 and is about follow when Saki appears having already transformed into Brave, also about to follow.

“Hey!” Nico calls, elbowing Saki, “This game’s between me and bike man!”

Behind her, Kiriya sneaks up and grabs the Mighty Action X Gashat from the holster on her belt. He throws it at Emu, “Catch, Ace!” Emu catches it as Nico spins around and seemingly glares at Kiriya, who seems unphased. “Now come on, we have a Bugster to catch…”

Kiriya watched as Emu ran over to Nishiwaka, “Mr. Nishiwaka, are you okay?”

Shaking his head, Kiriya turns in the direction that Motors took off in. “Guess I’m doing this myself,” He flips the lever on his Gamer Driver.

Level Up! Bakusou dokusou gekisou bousou! Bakusou Bike!

Unlike Saki or Nico, when Kiriya switched to his Level 2, he did not become anything resembling a normal person. Nope. He turned into a motorbike. He then quickly sped off after Motors.

Emu calls over to Saki and Nico, “I’m get Mr. Nishiwaka to the CR, you guys follow Kiriya and the Bugster.”

Nico huffed, “Why should I do what you say, M?” He was already getting Nishiwaka to the CR. Nico shakes her head, “Whatever,”

Looking over at Saki, she sees that she’s turned her back to Nico. Then Nico sees why. Stalking towards them was a Rider who looked like Para-DX, but black and purple. He held some kind of hammer in his hand. In his other hand, he holds what seems to be a Gashat.

Shakariki Sports!

Placing the Gashat into the Driver, the armor of a colorful bicycle forms around his shoulders and chest.

Shakariki! Shakariki! Bad Bad! Shaka to Riki to Shakariki Sports!

“What?” Nico can’t believe her eyes, “Using two Gashat’s at once? How the hell? Can you even do that?”

Falling into a fighting stance beside her, raising her sword, Saki responds, “Seems so.”

Raising her gun, Nico growls, “Well I’m not letting this guy interrupt the game!” While Saki ran forward, slashing at the Rider only to have it blocked by him, Nico fired several shots at him. They continued something of this kind, only for the Rider to continually shrug it off.

Finally, the black Para-DX inserts his second Gashat into his hammer, raising it to attack at the pair.

Shakariki Critical Strike!

Once the attack landed on the pair, knocking away their armor, the black Para-DX disappeared.

Nico rolls over and looks at where he once was, “Yeah, hi, what the hell?”

Sounding equally annoyed, Saki comments, “Just who is that?”

---

“Why didn’t you go and help Kujo?” Nishiwaka wondered, now lying in the bed of the CR’s patient room. Emu sits beside him.

“Because, it’s more important that I learn what will stress you,” Emu answers, “That will tell me where the Bugster will appear.”

Still, Nishiwaka seemed hesitant. “I’m not really…”

Instead of pushing that angle, Emu tried a different one, hoping that it might provide some answers or at least something to go off of. “Do you know how you got infected?”

After a moment, Nishiwaka finally answered, “Well this… monster appeared. I think he infected me.” He paused, then startling Emu, added, “He kidnapped my sister, Riko!”

“Your sister…” Emu breathed, “That would cause you stress…” He shakes his head, “Well then, we’ll just have to save your sister, too!”

Nishiwaka didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Emu had gotten what he needed, so he left him be. Now he just needed to figure out where Riko was and that would probably lead him to the Bugster too…

Then an arm was in his way. Kiriya stood, leaning against the wall, supported with his arm. Startled by Kiriya’s sudden appearance, Emu stumbled and fell to the ground. “Wow Ace, I must be a very pleasant surprise.”

Emu blinked, “How did you get in here?”

Kiriya shrugged, “Wasn’t too hard,” He didn’t elaborate, “Now listen, Ace, I need you to ride me.”

That was probably the weirdest sounding thing that Kiriya could have said and definitely not what Emu was expecting. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but definitely not that. “Wha-what?”

“If we’re going to clear Motors’ game, Bakusou Bike, we’re going to need to use my Gashat to beat him,” Kiriya explained, “I can’t reach my top speed without a rider, though.”

In response, Emu blinked again, “Okay,” He says slowly, “I guess that makes sense.”

“Cool, the, glad we’re clear there, Ace,” Kiriya watches Emu as he stands up, “So ready to ride me?”

Eye twitching slightly, Emu begged, “Please don’t keep saying that,” He then shakes his head, “Besides, you haven’t even seen me transform. Why are you so insistent that it’s me who… helps you beat Motors?”

Kiriya gestured at him, “Well you’re Genius Gamer M, right?” He asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer, “So obviously you should be the one to ride me.” Internally, Emu really wished he stop phrasing it that way. It was accurate, yes, but it sounded weird! Not that Emu could place exactly why.

“Fine, fine,” Emu finally concedes, “I’ll… ride you,” It almost physically hurt him to say that. Like, he’s hoping that Kiriya isn’t watching him too closely, or else he might catch a glimpse of something Emu doesn’t want anyone seeing.

“Great!” Kiriya grinned, once more throwing an arm around Emu – to his dismay and amazement given how much taller than Kiriya he was – and leading him out of the hospital, “We’ll just have to find them, now. Should be easy enough.”

“Yeah…” Emu weakly agrees, “Could you, uh, not do that?”

Glancing at him, Kiriya asks, “Do what?”

Emu reaches a hand up and grabs at Kiriya’s arm, moving it off… Not really Emu’s shoulders, given his height compared to Kiriya, but more around Emu’s midsection. “That,” He repeated, “Touching me.”

Seeming startled at the statement, Kiriya drew his arm back the rest of the way, “Sorry,” he said and he sounded genuine, “Guess I didn’t expect the pediatrician to be the one to have lots of personal space.”

Looking away from Kiriya, Emu responded, “Well, you’renot a kid, and we’ve just met,” He rubbed at where Kiriya’s hand had been before, “And like, it’s weird to just touch people you’ve just met. Kids are different but adults…”

Once more raising his hands in a placating manner, Kiriya says, “No, no, it’s fine, thanks for telling me,” He gives Emu a grin, “I’ll try not to do it again.”

Regarding him for a moment, Emu finally answers with a polite, “Thank you,” and the two continue their way.

After a while, Emu realizes that Kiriya’s been leading him somewhere, not just walking aimlessly. When they arrive at their apparent destination, they’re greeted with both a woman, tied up, and Motors.

“Time for the race, Ace,” Kiriya, says, pulling out his Gamer Driver and using the stage select feature to take them to a racetrack. Riko was now at the end, tied up above the finish line. Kiriya quickly transformed.

Level Up! Bakusou dokusou gekisou bousou! Bakusou Bike!

The face part of the motorcycle that was now Kiriya turned towards Emu expectantly, “Come on, Ace, we don’t have time to waste.”

“Right,” Emu nods, pulling out the Mighty Action X Gashat.

Level Up! Mighty Jump! Mighty Kick! Mighty-Mighty Action X!

As Emu gets on Kiriya, a sentence that Emu never wants to hear or think again, Motors drives up to them, also on his Bugster bike. The racers take off, but it seems even with Emu, Motors is still out racing Kiriya.

Then Emu remembers Bakusou Bikes, a game that has little rules to its name. It was probably no coincidence that items were spawning on the racetrack. Motors begins to toss bombs back at them, forcing Kiriya to try to steer out of the way.

Taking out his weapon and switching it to gun mode, Emu aims at Motors. He shoots at the Bugster, sending him into the air. They were all too close to the finish line not to take things seriously. He also shoots at a few of the items lying around, hoping one might give them a useful power-up.

“Hey, Ace,” Kiriya calls, “Time for a critical strike, wouldn’t you say?” As Kiriya steered towards one of the power-ups, Emu began to prepare Kiriya’s final attack. They launch into the air and land their finisher on Motors.

Bakusou Critical Strike!

The pair of Kiriya and Emu cross the finish line, Motors now on the ground behind them.

Game Clear!

They grab Riko and Emu gets off Kiriya, setting Riko down. He wanted to see if she was hurt or anything. Kiriya, though, returns to his Level 1 and runs towards Motors.

“By the way,” He calls out, “I lied about having a friend who died on Zero Day. I just want this Bugster.”

Emu’s first reactions is a startled, “What?” Then it was to think of his words following. I just want this Bugster. Why did Kiriya want the Motors? Why want a Bugster at all?

Kiriya continued, reaching and about to grab Motors’ arm, “I want to study it. See how it works and all.” Something about that statement unnerves Emu and he starts to wonder if his initial read of “pretty okay guy, all things considered,” on Kiriya was actually totally off base.

Beginning to walk over to Kiriya, Emu asks, “Do you really think you’ll find much out…”

Except then he freezes. Stalking over to the two, with some kind of strange, colorful bicycle armor added on, was the black Para-DX. He inserted his second Gashat into his weapon and takes aim.

Shakariki Critical Strike!

The attack hits Motors, destroying him entirely, and then Kiriya and Emu, lowering the health gauge on their chests down to their last bar. With that last attack, he turns to leave.

---

A man with short, dark hair stumbles into a room, clutching his chest. He’s wearing some odd mix of formal and casual, a dark gradient shirt, with a black blazer and slacks. He’s leaning against the doorway, then stumbles towards a desk.

Looking up from a sofa, seated across from the desk, the man in the Mighty hoodie looks up. His hood is down, now, his bangs parted and clipped on each side so that both his eyes are uncovered. Today he’s wearing a Bakusou Bikes shirt, with the sounds of revving engines coming from the Gemnboy in his hands.

The hoodie man looks concerned, “Kuroto,” He says and sets the game down, standing up from the couch, “Are you okay?” He quickly rushes over and helps the other man, Kuroto, to his seat at his desk.

Kuroto takes a deep breath, “Yes, yes, I’m… I’ll be alright, I just need a bit.”

“Are you sure?” The other responds, sounding unconvinced, “You seem like you’re in pain…”

Taking out a Gamer Driver, a black Mighty Action X Gashat, and the lime green Shakariki Sports Gashat, Kuroto sets them on his desk. He regards the black Mighty Action X Gashat for a moment, before saying, “Prototype Gashats, like this Mighty Action X, are… hard on the body. They have negative side effects.”

The hoodie man was startled at the statement, “What? Kuroto why are you using that?” He seems very worried, “If it’s so hard then what if it killed you?”

“…I have no other choice. Shakariki Sports is not designed to be used in such a way, and the other finished Gashats must stay accounted for and in the hands of those that father has given them to.” Kuroto responds, picking up the Prototype Mighty Action X Gashat, “I’m working on a solution, but it will take a while.”

“So in the meantime you’ll just be hurting yourself,” The other frowned, crossing his arms. “Kuroto…”

Kuroto sighed, “I know, Mu. I know.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, before the man in the hoodie, Mu, leaned down and wrapped his arms around Kuroto in a hug, “You keep doing so much to complete the game,” He said, “You should let me help more.”

Eyes widening in realization about what Mu meant, Kuroto’s eyes widened, “No, it’ll be too dangerous?”

“More dangerous than the game when it’s completed?”

“Well… no…” Kuroto admitted, “But… Mu, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Mu took the Proto Mighty Action X Gashat from Kuroto’s hands, “If this is anything like the game, and if I’m going to beat the game, I need some practice,” He said, spinning the Gashat on his finger and watching it. He then returned his attention to Kuroto, “Besides, I don’t want my big bro pushing himself too hard. Let me help a bit, at least.”

Though clearly still hesitant, Kuroto sighed, “Fine,”

“You won’t regret this,” Mu cheered, “Besides, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m a genius gamer, after all, and this is sorta like a game, right?”

“When you’re next going out to get the Rider’s attention,” Kuroto began sternly, “Graphite’s going with you. We’re going to set up a little plan that will shock Brave.”

With a happy smile, Mu responded, “I’ll make all three of you proud!”

#kamen rider exaid #kamen rider #my writing #there is a me who can become strong

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Dreamers

Do not ask me what this is because i have no idea. It’s like midnight here and i really should be asleep but my blood was boiling to get this out of me. I’m just gonna classify it as fanfiction but its debatable? Anyway i hope you enjoy my lovelies. It was so.......interesting to write. I don’t know my fingers took over and i just let them do their thing.

Masterlist

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

i thought we were made 

of memories

but when i look at you 

the whole world 

blurs

i’m starting to think we are made

of dreams

and you just happen to 

be mine.

-badpoetry

What is a dream?

A 12 year old Percy Jackson asked.

And the little five year old girl he babysat gave him a toothy grin and said, "Mommy told me its where all the people we used to know and all the people we will know meet up,"

He blinked those sea green eyes at her unsure exactly what she meant, what that implied, what those possibilities entailed.

"Why?"

"Well," Her brow furrowed, "I was having a bad dream and I woke mommy up. I was crying you know," She nodded, hanging her head shamefully, "I know that means I'm not a big girl but it was really scary,"

"It's okay to cr—" He started but she was already prattling on.

"So mommy sat with me and she explained that sometimes when we dream bad things it just means our heart is hurted for the people we don't know."

Percy was flawed, he didn't really know how to process this, how she said it with such casualness, as if it was the most sensible thing in the world.

"And what happens if you have good dreams?"

"Well mommy says that means you are happy." She shrugged, "Can we watch Winx Club now?"

And with one click of the TV the conversation was over. For her anyway. Percy sat there, blinking in and out of reality, his thoughts swirling.

Where all the people you used to know and you will know meet.

He crashed into bed that night, tired and escaping the reek of liquor and tobacco. He circled back to the conversation he had with little Stella a frown etching into his forehead.

Our heart is hurting for the people we don't know.

And when grey eyes and streaks of blonde visited his dreams once more his frown deepened; who was this person and why why why did they hurt.

***

Annabeth Chase was having a bad day. She had had a fight with her father, got screamed at by her stepmother and stepped on Lego all in the span of one morning. Now she stormed down the passage and out the gym, gold curls flying and eyes the colour of ash burning holes into the concrete as she waited outside.

It wasn't her fault she had punched him. He shouldn't have told her to "move out the way so the real game could start." She would have thrown that basketball right at his stupid face if someone hadn't grabbed it from her. Now she was standing outside the gym, waiting for class to end so her coach could take her to the principal's office. She was probably going to get suspended again- not that she cared. She was more concerned with what her father would do. Her anger was interrupted by a throat clearing.

She looked up to see black hair, dark skin and green eyes staring at her.

"What do you want?"

"I got sent here. I punched the other two idiots who were still snickering after you got kicked out."

And it's then that she noticed his bruising knuckles and red jaw.

"Oh," Was her eloquent reply, "Why?"

"They were wrong and it was rude." He shrugged as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Well thanks I guess," She tried to set her face into some semblance of a smile, "Guess we're both getting suspended huh?"

"I'll probably get expelled," He rolled his eyes.

"What? Why?"

"This is my third offense. I seem to have a lot of run-ins but usually they don't involve defending pretty girls."

She blushed at that, and then took comfort in his reddening cheeks.

"What's your—"

"Annabeth Chase!" A stern voice started towards them.

"Guess that's my cue. See you on the other side—"

"Percy," He smiled.

She returned it with a dazzling one of her own before being dragged to the dungeons.

Percy Jackson did not dream of stormy eyes and golden curls that night. And for the first time in six months he finally knew that Annabeth Chase was not hurting.

"Percy," She laughed, shoving away.

"Annabeth," He whispered, pulling her to him.

What is a dream?

A sixteen year old Percy Jackson asked.

And the glowing girl tucked into his side turned to him and said, "Subconscious imaginings that happen when you sleep that could involve sound, image and other sensory components."

He smiled at her, at his wise girl who thought of everything with her strategist brain, and he pulled her closer.

"They're just in your head, made up. Your imagination running wild." She shrugged as if that was the sensible explanation, the only explanation.

"I guess they are. Why do you think we have good or bad dreams?"

"Probably to do with stress and our emotions. Maybe throw something about hormones in there." She looked up at him with her knowledgeable eyes, pools that held equal amounts defiance and pride, that held much more of something, something, something.

***

Annabeth Chase was having a good day. She woke up to the smell of pancakes and hushed whispers outside her door. Her boyfriend and her father were waiting for her tell tale sign before they came barging in. With a soft smile she clicked play on her phone and let the opening notes of Last Dance fill her room, her head, her smile.

The door eased open, floppy black hair and ocean eyes peeking at her. With a troublemakers smile he sprinted for the bed and flopped over her.

"Happy birthday Wise Girl,"

"Thank you," She kissed his forehead and then smiled up at the adult walking in.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart," He said softly holding out a plate with a ring of cupcakes and a single candle in the middle.

"Eighteen huh?"

"Don't remind me, I think I can already feel my bones creaking."

"That's not your bones, your machine body just needs some oil." Percy said cheekily.

She shoved his face away but laughed, "If I was a machine I would have my degree by now,"

"How about finishing high school first? Life is just beginning." Her dad sat down beside her.

"I know I know, just sometimes feel like I've been dreaming about living it for so long it's hard to imagine waiting even a second more."

"Well I'll be here to help you past the time," Percy grinned at her before swiping a cupcake and shoving the entire thing into his mouth.

"I know you will." She grabbed his hand.

"Annabeth," He cried, watching as she walked down the steps and out out out.

"Life," She sighed, gripping the handle of her bag and walking towards the gate and into the world beyond.

What is a dream?

A 21 year old Percy Jackson asked.

And the boy in the mirror gave him a broken look and said, "It is the alternative ending."

He closed his eyes, lifted his face to the skies.

"Why do we have bad dreams?"

"Some endings are not so happy,"

That night Percy Jackson went to sleep and watched storm clouds and lightning dance behind his eyes. Who was this person and why did they have no feeling at all?

***

Jason Grace did not expect to see a boy in a blue hoodie and faded jeans strolling through his secret garden but it seemed this bright breezy morning was ripe with surprise.

"Hey," He called

The boy startled and then turned towards him and the breath knocked clean from his lungs. He had never seen someone so full of the world. Ocean eyes and coffee skin. Midnight hair and forest heights.

"Uh hi, sorry I didn't think anyone was here,"

"I didn't either. How did you find this place?"

"By accident mostly," He flushed, "I didn't mean to disturb you I just got lost in thought."

"It's okay, this is a good place to think. To just be." He gave him a reassuring smile.

"Well I guess I should get out of your way,"

"Why don't you stay a little longer, we can get lost in thought together?"

And as he came closer, as he sat down on the cool grass, offering a shy smile the world fell off his shoulders and landed in their palms, holding together, together, together.

"Jason," He grinned.

"Percy," He sighed, hugging him tighter.

 Jason Grace layed down a blanket and intertwined his fingers with his boyfriend’s long supple one’s. Today they celebrate the day they first met in the little garden tucked away in a little park.

”Happy anniversary Percy,”

He smiled that heart-breaker’s smile and kissed him.

“I cannot believe it’s been two years,”

“Time is not real when you don’t have to keep track of it,” He mumbled, kissing golden knuckles.

Even all these years later he still looked like the world. Although maybe it was the world who looked like him. With those clear bright eyes and unbreakable will. With that never-ending steady loyalty and the warmth of a thousand suns.

“Where are you?” He asked Jason.

“I am lost in thought,” He smiled into the closing space between them.

“Can we get lost together?”

“We have been that way since the stars started shining.”

What is a dream?

A 25 year old Percy Jackson asked.

And the boy with lightning eyes gave him a curious smile and said "Us."

He grinned, bright and unrestrained, the answer settling in his bones.

Us.

He had been searching his whole life for that word. Sometimes it takes two people in order for it to be true. Shakespeare did not make a word because he wrote it. He made one because he said it and someone echoed.

"Yes. We are a dream." He nodded, holding his hand to that electric heart.

"Are we a good one?" A whisper floated between them.

"We are the only one, my love."

#percy jackson #percy #jackson #PJO #HOO #percy jackson fanfic #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #mini fanfic #mini fafiction #PJO fanfic #PJSSG series #PJSSG fanfic #percabeth #jercy #i dont really know what this is yall #but i hope yall enjoyed #mini fanfiction #annabeth chase #jason grace #annabeth #chase #jason #grace #dreamers #dreams #percy dreams #au percy jackson #au PJO #au

[http-skzhyuns]

cr*cc fic + unedited | the mischief brothers come to gate-crash  a/n: i haven’t been writing bc this pandemic made me pretty unstable. this has been sitting in my drafts for months. i still take suggestions and requests in my asks, writing time might take longer though. if anybody wants to talk, i’m also up for it haha. i hope everyone is doing well. stay safe xx you looked at donghyuck, dead in the eye. he returned your gaze, the mischief swirling in his orbs. there is a safe distance between the both of you -- with you behind the kitchen counter and him, trying to shield himself from any of your incoming attacks with the chairs in the dining area.

yangyang stood not too far away, a broom in his hand, ready to fight for his life if need be.

it’s a picture that perfectly depicts the chaos that is currently happening inside your apartment.

yangyang and donghyuck decided to randomly crash into their next-door neighbor’s house. to your surprise, they busted into your home while skipping and humming to themselves. this prompts you to stare at their figure at the doorway, mid-shoving popcorn and wearing your pajama ensemble of ratty t-shirts and sweatpants.

while it was definitely a surprise visit, it wasn’t the reason for the current situation.

the three of you were mindlessly fighting over who gets to eat the last fry. it was no surprise that the food delivery was wiped out in an hour. however, there is one last tiny fry in the box.

“i get to have it! i paid for it!” you helplessly yelled.

“no, we’re younger than you. your kind heart must give it to us as a form of taking care of us, isn’t that right, yangyang?” hyuck appealed to the youngest.

you knew it, you should’ve known it from that moment you heard them snickering to themselves and whispering back and forth as if they’re conspiring together.

hell, you should’ve known it with all the time you spent with them as their neighbor. donghyuck and yangyang agreeing into something is simply put... a recipe for incoming disaster.

you know, at this point, it doesn’t even matter at all if you cried and bawled your eyes out in front of them. after all, they split the small fry into two and shared it.

hence, the growing anger that is brewing in the air. mostly, it comes from you but the mischief brothers are fueling it.

“y/n! give up already! we enjoyed the treat!” yangyang screamed from the doorway.

you switched your deadly gaze to him, quietly watching him.

“thank you for the fries,” donghyuck goaded with his smug smile. you ended up sprinting to him first.

he bolted out of your way, laughing hysterically which heightens your ire. “yangyang, get ready. she’s coming after you,” hyuck warned before hiding somewhere within the vicinity.

you stared at yangyang and his random weapon of choice. “don’t come any closer, this is your favorite broom, isn’t it? you don’t want it to break or something,” he said.

“dude, i don’t have a favorite broom,” you stopped in front of him, looking at him ridiculously. 

“oh really? guess i’m wrong then,” he threw the broom before darting out of your sight.

“y/n, this is why i keep telling you to stop sitting on the sofa all the time. i heard your joints creaking earlier,” hyuck said, whether it’s a taunt or a word of advice you aren’t sure. 

“damn, i hate you two. i swear, i’ll never let you in this house ever again.” you huffed, before plopping down in the sofa, pressing on the play button.

“come out already! the movie’s resuming!” you yelled and no sooner than later, the two emerged, smiling.

you rolled your eyes at them, “this is why ten complains to me sometimes.”

“eh? it’s not like hyung’s entirely innocent. kun-hyung and taeyong-hyung are about to lose their minds whenever we’re in the same room as him,” yangyang retorted.

you laughed, “i feel sorry for them. tell them, if they need any help, i’ll come running for them. must have been tough.” you shook your head. 

“hey! we’re not that bad,” hyuck said, mock offended.

you just sent the both of them a deadpan look.

“yeah, i guess there’s this one time i knocked over the clothing rack and it fell apart...”

the three of you continued to watch the movie in silence.

three movies finished and yangyang began rummaging through your refrigerator.

“hey, y/n? there’s fries in your fridge...”

you and donghyuck turned to look at him and saw him holding up a bag of uncooked fries.

“oh.”

#nct au #nct drabbles #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #haechan scenarios #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv yangyang #haechan imagines #haechan drabbles

[mitchsmarners]

the real world

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] word count: 4,484 chapter count: 3 of 18 summary: after a sudden and unexplained disappearance, richie tozier returns to derry with a secret that no one person could ever hope to hold onto

read on ao3.

moodboard by the lovely @thundercatseddie. | beta by @thundercatseddie

a lil work in progress playlist

the real world taglist: @thundercatseddie, @willelbyers, @proton-disaster-blaster,  @summerxle, @richietoaster, @beautifullillis, @ichigokazuki, @protectthebyers, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @are-you-reddie-for-it, @reddiegaspbrak, @princesass-theresa, @appojoos, @cheekaspbrak, @roobarrtrashmouth, @reddiesmagic, @moonlighttozier,  @flamingcheetoess, @are-you-reddie-cos-im-not, @reddie-wise​ (let me know if you want added!)

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @eddiecare, @eddiekabsprak, @thundercatseddie, @appojoos, @wonderfuleds, @s-s-georgie, @chaotickaspbrak, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @purplepoisonedgem, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @itfandomprompts (also let me know if you want added!)

Richie wasn’t at school today. Eddie knew he shouldn’t be letting it bother him, that it didn’t mean anything. Richie could be sick, God knows he wouldn’t be getting enough sleep and that was a huge push to a person getting ill. It was just... the last time Richie hadn’t suddenly shown up to school, he’d been gone.

“Hey.” Beverly came up and place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “Why so quiet, Eddie?”

Eddie didn’t answer her immediately, fidgeting with the pencil in his hands. Beverly’s hand was a heavy weight on his shoulder as he weighed over what he was feeling. “I guess I’m worried about Richie. I know you hate him now or whatever.”

“I don’t hate him.” Beverly cut across Eddie, but her voice wasn’t sharp or angry. It was quiet, almost understanding. “I could never hate him. I just can’t forgive him without some sort of explanation. He can’t just treat people badly and expect everybody to just jump at the chance to hang around with him again. Not that he’s hanging around.”

Eddie frowned. The last couple days had all been like this, his friends making some sort of comment about Richie - or even to Richie- and Eddie not being able to defend his best friend without exposing his secret. Eddie wanted nothing more than for the Losers to know about Richie’s baby, for them to know the truth but it wasn’t Eddie’s place to say anything. So, Eddie kept lying, and he kept feeling guilty about it.

“I’m sorry,” Beverly said again. “I’m really not trying to slam on him. Logically, I know there’s a reason he’s being this way. I’m pissed he won’t talk to me about it, but I’ve been trying not to say anything to you. I don’t want to put you in the middle of anything because I know you love him.”

Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head. “He’s just not in school today. And I’m worried. That’s all.”

Beverly smiled. “Well, we can go over to his house after school and check on him if you want! I’ll go with you and we-”

Images of little Riley popped into Eddie’s mind, followed quickly by images of Richie’s horrified and betrayed face if he saw that Eddie had brought Beverly there, and Eddie found himself giving an answer before the thoughts had even cleared his mind. “No, that’s okay! We don’t need to do that. That’s fine.”

Beverly gave him a suspicious look and Eddie gave a small laugh. “You said yourself he’s being weird. If he’s not here tomorrow, we can check on him. Yeah?”

“Yeah...” Beverly nodded and turned around in her seat, facing forward back to the lesson. She gave a slight huff, dropping her pen to paper, and Eddie felt a little bit sick.

After class let out, Eddie hastily told Beverly he was going to the bathroom before lunch and took off. Curling up in the stall and giving himself a moment to breathe, Eddie wondered if he should just spend his lunch here instead of going into the caf. He quickly dismissed the idea, realizing he didn’t have any lunch. If Eddie didn’t eat lunch, if he didn’t eat regularly, then he got bitchy. It wasn’t good for a person to skip meals, it was very unhealthy.

So Eddie picked himself back up and wandered out of the bathroom. When he caught sight of his friends standing in front of the cafeteria doors, his stomach tensed up. His hands dropped down to grab at the fanny pack that no longer rested there, and he pulled on his belt.

“He probably knows something.” Ben said softly. He was standing next to Beverly, who had her arms crossed, looking concerned. Stan was standing, arms crossed in the same fashion, while looking annoyed. Mike was openly eating his sandwich while standing up. Bill has his back to him.

“Oh, he doesn’t know shuh-shit.” Bill said. “He knows just as much as the rest of us, he’s just buh-buh-biased.”

“You don’t know that.” Beverly said. “If Richie was going to tell anybody something, it would probably be Eddie. You know how they are. How they’ve always been... those two.”

Stan rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper something in Mike’s ear. When Mike gave him a small nod, Stan turned away and walked into the cafeteria alone. Eddie swallowed down his nerves and hurt and wondered if there was any chance he could get past the rest of the Losers and talk to Stan. Stan seemed to be on Richie’s side, Eddie’s side. If only he could talk to Stanley alone.

“Truh-trust me.” Bill seemed to be holding his hands out in front of him. “If Eddie nuh-nuh-knew shit, he’d have tuh-told us. He’s just defending Ruh-Richie because he’s got some buh-big guh-guh-gay cr-”

“Do you got something to say to me, Billy?” Eddie stepped out towards his friends, enjoying the way they all startled. Ben’s face immediately turned a bright, horrifying red while Mike gave Eddie an almost sympathetic look.

Bill turned around, an already resigned look on his face. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head to the side, gave Eddie a deep frown. “Eddie...” He sighed. “I’m suh-suh-sorry but...”

“You’re not sorry. You’ve been a fucking asshole since the second Richie got back.” Eddie snapped, finally understanding the term seeing red. “You’ve been pissed. That’s fine, I get that. I was pissed too! But you didn’t give him a chance, not even for a second. How could he have gone to you with anything when you made it so clear that you weren’t interested?”

“I didn’t do that, Eddie.” Bill said firmly. Eddie rolled his eyes and gave Bill what was almost a growl. “I didn’t. He im-im-immediately got back and started luh-lying to us and skipping out u-u-u-on us! This isn’t my fuh-fuh-fault!!”

“Your fault?” Rage flashed through Eddie, white hot with harsh burn. It was like his insides were about to boil. “You don’t know fucking shit! You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about!”

“That’s because he d-d-d-d-didn’t FUCK.” Bill turned away, face red with anger. He clenched his hands at his side as they shook.

“We don’t know what’s going on because he didn’t tell us anything.” Ben finished for him quietly. Bill looked over at Ben, mouth fixed in a thin line as though unsure if he wanted to thank him or snap at him.

Eddie looked to Mike, trying to plead with his eyes for help. Mike would stand with Eddie. Mike was always so understanding, so caring. He was hands down one of Eddie’s favourite people in the world. Mike would understand what Eddie was feeling.

But Mike was avoiding Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie’s stomach dropped when he realized he was on his own.

“I...” Eddie let out a soft groan as he pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “I hate this. If you guys are going to cut out Richie, then we can’t be friends, either.”

“We’re not cutting Richie out!” Ben said roughly, arms crossed over his chest. “He’s doing the cutting. We’re just not chasing after him.”

Eddie let out several harsh breaths while his hands shook at his sides. He felt a little light headed, and he swayed slightly on the spot. He could hear a dim ringing in the back of his head, something like a baby crying...

“Eddie... do you need your inhaler?” Beverly’s voice came to him. Soft, helpful but it just made Eddie shake harder.

“NO!” Eddie cried.  “I don’t need my fucking inhaler! You know I don’t fucking need it! Fuck you!”

“Eddie, you-you-y-y-y-” Bill stuttered over his words, face bright red. “You need to c-c-calm down.”

Eddie shoved at Bill with a deep glare. “I don’t need to calm down. I need to get out of here. I need to go home, I need-”

“You need to go to Richie?” Bill challenged. 

Eddie’s stomach churned painfully, and he turned away with a deep frown. He turned on his heels and ran from the school. He didn’t stop to even take a breath as he ran through the streets and up the front steps of his house. 

He heaved roughly, nearly falling forward onto his knees as he barrelled into the front entrance of his house. Breathing roughly and shoving hair out of his eyes, Eddie took a simple moment to catch his breath and rubbed angrily at the tears that were welling up inside his eyes.

“Eddie? What are you doing home?” Frank Kaspbrak came out of the kitchen, dish towel in his hands, and a deep frown on his face. “You should be in school, son.”

Eddie let out half a sob and turned away from his father. He walked through the living room and dove over the back of the couch as he groaned. He pressed his arm over his eyes and groaned louder until he felt the couch dip down beside him. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” Frank asked. There was a question there. An opening. If Eddie said no, Frank would let it go. He would make Eddie one of his comforting hot chocolates with whipped cream and they’d talk about something else. Or watch a movie. Anything else. 

“Richie had a baby.” Eddie grumbled.

His father was quiet for so long that Eddie lowered his arm away from his eyes and squinted at him. Frank looked at Eddie with a bit of a shell shocked look, but was still smiling encouragingly. “Waiting for more information.”

“I don’t know much, I guess.” Eddie sat up and pulled his legs up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, rested his chin on his knees. “That’s where he went this summer, to be with the mom. She didn’t want the baby, but Richie did. So he’s keeping it. He brought it back with him.”

“It?” Frank asked with a soft smile. “Eddie…”

“She.” Eddie chuckled as his lip pushed up in a small, half smile. “Her name is Riley. She’s… so small, Dad. She’s tiny. It’s crazy… this little tiny thing.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” Frank shifted over and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulder. “I don’t think Richie having a baby would be enough to make you run home from school though, son. What else is going on?”

Eddie sighed. “Richie is keeping it a secret. He hasn’t told any of the other Losers but they can tell something is wrong and they’re all so mad at him. And I know, so it's hard for me to hear them talking about Richie like that. When they don’t know, you know. It’s not fair.” 

Eddie resisted the urge to hide his face in his knees. “If they all stop being friends with Richie, I might lose them all. Like, Stan seems to be on Richie’s side, and Mike would probably go anywhere Stan goes. Oh my god, it’s going to be me, Richie, Stan and Mike versus Bill, Bev and Ben! Dad! What do I do?”

Frank blinked and watched in silence as his son spiraled. “Son…”

“Maybe I can just stop being friends with Richie like Bill wants.” Eddie said. “It’ll be easier. Better for everybody. Except Richie. But I could do it. It doesn’t make sense to choose one friend over five, right? That’s my most logical choice.”

Frank sighed and pulled Eddie into a full hug. “Edward James Kaspbrak, I have known you for a long time. Most of that time has included Richie Tozier by your side. I know how terrible those months when Richie was gone were for you, son. You were so sad. I’d do anything to never have to see you like that again.”

Eddie tried to smile, but he broke into a sob instead. He pressed harder against his father’s chest. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know. I want everything to go back. I don’t want us to be fighting! We shouldn’t be fighting, and keeping secrets or…”

“Having babies?” Frank asked gently as he rubbed Eddie’s back. 

Eddie mumbled nonsense into his father’s chest and felt him laugh. “I don’t know why he kept her. The mom wanted to put her up for adoption. He could have just done that, I don’t understand… he had an out.”

Frank pulled back and gave his son a sad smile. “I think there’s maybe a little bit more to it than you think, son. Nothing is ever as black and white as it seems.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Eddie repeated with a huff. 

“What you’re going to do, Edward my son,” Frank said. “Is help me make dinner, and then you’re going to go to your room for the rest of the night because you’re so grounded for skipping school.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “You tricked me! Playing the supportive dad card just to whack me with a grounding! That’s illegal game play!” 

Frank chuckled and shook his head. “I’m still the supportive dad, and you’re still the son who ditched out of school in the middle of the day. Just consider yourself lucky that your mom isn’t home.”

Eddie cringed. Sixteen years of life, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how his father had fallen in love with his mother. Not since he was a child had he seen anything that could have been considered truly loving between the two of them, and he wasn’t sure they’d ever been compatible. He’d never brought up his concerns to his parents, fear of opening the floodgates, but he sometimes (shamefully) thought to himself that his father deserved better than his mother. 

That night, Eddie texted Stan for the homework in their afternoon classes and curled up at his desk. He’d only managed to answer the first question of his history fill-out before he realized that the red sweater he’d tossed on when getting comfortable belonged to Richie. It had been left behind at one of the last sleepovers before Richie had disappeared, and Eddie had secretly worn it while Richie was gone. Only once in a while, not often. Just when he’d really wanted to feel close to his missing best friend.

Eddie had put it on without even thinking about it, but now it brought back the memories of what Eddie’s issue had been this morning in the first place. Richie hadn’t been at school, and it suddenly settled back in Eddie’s stomach like a rock. His hands got clammy and he suddenly felt much too hot in his sweater. He sat at his sit, leg bouncing, until he pushed away and grabbed his skateboard from under his bed.

Grounding be damned, Eddie needed to make sure that Richie and the baby were okay.

Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever ridden down to the Tozier’s house so quickly in his life. As much as his skateboard had been a rebellion of Eddie’s, he never rode it too quickly and was always cautious. Tonight, though, he barely even paid attention to his actions as he made his way down the darkened streets.

The lights were out in the house, and panic rose up in Eddie’s throat. No lights… empty house? Empty house? Eddie tossed his skateboard into one of the bigger bushes as he made his way around Richie’s house and towards Richie’s bedroom window. He let out a harsh exhale when he noticed the small light peering out from between the curtains. 

Without giving it any sort of logical thought, Eddie moved towards the brick house and began to climb. He cursed under his breath as he nearly fell several times, annoyed that Richie had a second story window and he couldn’t just heave himself into it like Richie could with Eddie’s own bedroom window. Eddie knocked lightly on the glass, out of breath and surely red in the face. 

Richie flung the window open and nearly knocked Eddie free from his grip on the siding. Richie let out a shout, grabbed Eddie by the collar of his sweater and pulled him into the room. Eddie and Richie both ended up on the floor of Richie’s bedroom. Eddie let out a cough and rubbed at his collar bone. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Kill you?” Richie whispered incredulously. He sat up and helped Eddie to his feet. “You climbing up into my window like some sort of fuckboy. I was just trying to keep you from falling to your death.”

“YOU’RE the one who almost knocked me to my death, opening the window like your bedroom was on fire!” Eddie shrieked, but Richie quickly slapped a hand over Eddie’s mouth with wide eyes.

“ShhHHH!” Richie hissed and gave Eddie a threatening glare. “Riley is sleeping!”

Eddie opened his mouth then quickly clapped it shut. For a moment, he’d forgotten all about Richie’s baby. The whole reason Eddie had been agonizing all day. He glanced over to the edge of Richie’s bed where a long basket looking… thing. He could slightly see the sleeping baby inside it, and he frowned.

“Why did you put her in a basket?” Eddie asked softly. “Don’t you have a crib for her?”

Richie laughed. “It’s a bassinet, Eddie. Riley’s still too little to really sleep in the crib, for the first few months babies sleep in ‘baskets’”. Richie put air quotations over the word basket and Eddie flushed angrily.

“Oh, don’t act like you knew that before!” Eddie swatted at Richie’s chest, and Richie let out a quiet laugh. 

The two of them stood quietly in Richie’s bedroom for a moment, before Richie’s eyes dropped to look at Eddie and frown. “Is that my sweater?”

“You weren’t at school today.” Eddie fiddled with the bottom hem of the sweater and stared at the ground. 

Richie sighed and ran his fingers through his rough curls. “Yeah, Riley was really fussy last night so I slept like shit. My mom is away for the rest of the week so my dad is way more chill and let me stay home and catch up on the sleep I missed.” Richie broke into a grin. “Awe, Eds baby, did you miss me?” 

“Shut up, Trashmouth!” Eddie swatted Richie on the chest. “Last time you didn’t come to school, you were… gone.”

“Oh.” Richie paused, then frowned. He stepped forward and wrapped Eddie into a surprisingly light hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”

“No, it’s okay, I…” Eddie cleared his throat as he tried not to get lost in the smell of the Tozier’s laundry detergent. “I over thought. And I fought with the Losers today.”

Richie stepped back from Eddie’s space, a deep frown settled on his face. “What… because I wasn’t at school?”

“No.” Eddie said unconvincingly. Richie raised his eyebrows and Eddie sighed. “Not exactly, okay? Like maybe it started that way, I guess, but we didn’t fight because of you. We fought because of us. It’s not your fault. You weren’t even there.”

Richie dropped down onto his bed and stared down at his hands. “They’re really mad at me, huh?”

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, they are. But that’s… that’s their problem. It’s not like… they need to get over it.”

Richie shook his head. “No, they… This isn’t some game or some stupid little fight. This is my whole life now, it’s what I have. All I have, my everything. You guys don’t have to bother with this, it’s not your life.”

Eddie glanced at the small, sleeping figure in the little basket and wrinkled his nose. “Maybe it’s not our problem, but you’re our trashmouth. And I’m sure they’d stick by you if they knew-”

Richie was already shaking his head before Eddie could finish speaking. “You know I can’t.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “I know you think that you can’t, but Richie, honestly-”

“I don’t want to talk about it again, Eddie.” Richie said. “I know it’s not ideal and that it won’t work forever, but I- I’m not ready and I don’t think… I can’t lose them.”

“You’re already losing them.” Eddie almost whispered but Richie’s face contorted with pain as he heard it anyway. Eddie clutched his hands together. “I’m sorry, I… No matter what happens you’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Richie gave Eddie a watery smile that made his heart race. 

Eddie took a short shuddering breath. He just wanted everything to be normal. “Go somewhere with me.”

Richie blinked at him. “Eddie, I can’t leave. Riley’s sleeping, and she doesn’t sleep through the night! She could wake up at any time and if I’m not here, and she’s crying-”

“Okay, okay, relax.” Eddie spotted the little white baby monitor and grabbed it. “Just come outside with me. How far does this thing reach?”

“I’m not sure.” Richie said as he stood up slowly. “I’ve never taken it any further than the kitchen before.”

Eddie grinned. “Let’s find out.”

Richie had the baby monitor hooked into his belt loop as he and Eddie climbed down from Richie’s bedroom window. They walked slowly across Richie’s front lawn and out to the street. Richie walked backwards slowly, eyes on Eddie, until he made it halfway across the neighbours front lawn.

“It’s fuzzing out here.” 

Eddie nodded as Richie walked back towards him. “Cool, let’s just… let’s just hang out here for awhile. If that’s alright?”

Richie shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, Eds. Whatever you want.”

Eddie rushed back over to the bush where he’d dumped his board and carried it back. Richie stared at it a little gap mouthed with wide eyes. “Edward Kaspbrak, is that a skateboard? Without a helmet? Does your mother know?”

“You know there’s no goddamn way in hell she does.” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “You think I’d be allowed out of the house if she had any idea that I owned this?”

“Well…” Richie chuckled. “I’m sort of assuming that you don’t have permission to get out of the house right now, so.”

“Smart ass.” Eddie said. “So cocky, bet you couldn’t even stand on a skateboard.”

“What? Like it’s hard?” Richie challenged with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He stepped towards Eddie. “Hand the board over. Let me show you how a real bad boy does it.

“Oh, yeah. You’re sooo bad.” Eddie rolled his eyes as he pushed the board towards Richie’s outstretched foot. “I bet you have cartoon animals on your boxers right now.”

“HEY!” Richie pointed at Eddie, one foot resting on the board. “First of all, I’m a teenage dad- that implies underage sex, Eddie. Total rebel material.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “And for your information, they’re Spongebob. So, you’re wrong.”

“Only by a minor technicality!” Eddie argued as Richie pulled up his shirt to show him the yellow boxers he had on. “But fine, if you’re such a hot shot bad boy- show me what you got, Tozier.”

Richie wobbled the moment he stepped onto the board with both feet, a small surprised noise coming from the back of his throat. Eddie smirked and crossed his arms with a tap of his foot. “Rich. are you serious? You can’t even ride a bike, what makes you think that you can just hop on a skateboard and be fine?”

“This isn’t the same thing!” Richie said, perched stock still on the board so as not tot move it in the slightest. 

“No, it’s not. It’s harder.” Eddie replied. “And more dangerous. Get off before you hurt yourself.”

“Oh, I’ll get off, alright?” Richie winked, still not moving. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “How does that even make sense, asshole? What the hell, why do you think that. No, you know what, I don’t know what that baby up there is or where you got it because there’s no way in hell anybody ever had sex with you and you can quote me on that. I’d stake my life on it.”

“Eddie, take a breath!” Richie laughed as he swayed on the board. The wheels rolled slightly backwards and the panic flashed over Richie’s face quickly. He thrusted his hands out and Eddie caught them without a thought. Richie’s hands shook in his as they both waited for the board to still. 

Richie let out a low breath. “My parents were right, skateboards are the gateway to motorcycles.” 

Eddie’s eyes blew wide and a grin came over his face. “Do you think my mom would notice if I got a motorcycle? Can’t really hide that under my bed…”

“Anything is possible…” Richie said almost with a wheeze. His hands were shaking againstEddie’s. Eddie pulled on Richie’s hands, pulling both him and the skateboard closer to himself. Richie let out a small squeak and squeezed the absolute life out of Eddie’s hands.

“Ow, Richie.” Eddie whined and tried to pull his hand back but Richie continued to hold him tight. 

“You should totally get a motorcycle, Eds. And a tattoo. Maybe a piercing.” Richie babbled, slightly swinging their hands. “And I’d ride on the back of your motorcycle, just like Big Bill’s bike, only way hotter.”

“You have issues.” Eddie said with a red face. He yanked his hands away from Richie’s and pushed the skateboard with his foot. Richie and the skateboard rolled quickly, Richie letting out an angry and betrayed shout. He stumbled as the board rolled and fell onto his side and onto the lawn. He groaned dramatically.

“You big baby.” Eddie walked over and helped Richie to his feet. “You landed on the grass, that didn’t hurt at all. And you know it.”

“It hurt my feelings.” Richie said lowly and Eddie cocked his brow. Richie opened his mouth, eyes lowered, but before he could get any words out, the sound of a baby gurgling came over the monitor on Richie’s hip.

“Shit.” Richie said as he looked down at it. “I gotta go, Eds.”

“She’s not crying yet,” Eddie said, unsure of why he felt so desperate for Richie to stay outside with him. “Don’t you have time?”

Richie looked at him like he was crazy.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie shook his head. He kicked at the ground and grabbed his board. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Well, you don’t have to go.” Richie said quietly. “You can come back up with me. She probably just needs a bottle. We can watch a movie or something.”

Eddie’s stomach twisted awkwardly at the thought. “No, that’s okay. I should get home before my mom or dad notice I’m gone. I’m technically grounded.”

“Grounded?” Richie smirked. “You really a rebel now, Eds. Good for you.”

Eddie smiled at the ground and got onto his board. He forced himself not to turn around as he rode down the street, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Richie watched him leave or not.

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it fanfiction #r + e #otp: i'll chance it #trw #the real world

[splishsplashimtrash]

Don’t take her away

(Y/N) saved Fred and Percy from an incoming spell from a Death Eater but every action has a consequence.

Warning: Death, Angst

Screams and cries were echoing in every direction as bright lights casted from wands flew across the sky. (Y/N) had been helping, collecting her wounded allies, bringing them to the great hall where madam pomfrey had been treating wounded wizards and witches. “Come on” the young witch gritted as she tried to drag an unconscious huffle puff boy to safety, his body too heavy for her to lift. Never the less she tried her best and she almost made it to the great hall when she suddenly heard a voice that had been plaguing her mind ever since the battle had started.

Fred weasley, her boyfriend was currently fighting along side his brother Percy, the two weasleys bickering and laughing as they did their best to fight off the death eaters who outnumbered them. “Hey ministry! I resign!” Percy yelled laughing, shouting another spell to repel the death eater infront of him. Fred snickered at his brother reblion, becaming distracted, not noticing a death eater pulling his wand out and pointing it at the ginger haired Gryffindor. Looking down at the unconscious wizard, she made the split decision of dropping the huffle puff and running to her boyfriends aid. “FRED! PERCY! LOOK OUT!” She yelled as she shoved the two brother away from the death eater who caused an explosion all around them.

(Y/N) took most of the hit, gasping in pain at her searing arm. “(Y/N)-“ Fred called out but was cut off by the sound of rumbling, the trio looked up to see that the ceiling of the castle was collapsing, the debris falling onto the unsuspecting witch and wizards. They tried their best to move out of the way but a large chunk of the cieling had fallen on the (H/C) haired witch, crushing the poor girls back and stomach to the ground. The impact causing her to scream out in pain, a scream that ecchoed in the weasley twins ears till this very day. A small part of the debri fell on Fred’s head and leg pinning down his left leg a couple of feet away from the (H/N).

Percy on the other hand had been nocked out by a part of the ceiling hitting his head causing him to bleed on the ground away from the couple. There was so much dust and dedbrie in the air that it was so hard to breath, especially in (Y/N) condition she couldn’t breath at all, every gasp of air she took only made the pain worsen, the pain, like needles sticking itself into her lungs and throat.

Fred coughed as he waved his hand in the air trying to swat away the suffocating debri that hurt his lungs. Trying to focus on finding his wand but as the dust started to clear, he became deathly away that his wand was far out of his reach and was next to his brother percys.

Fred grunted out weakly, a pulsating pain shooting up his spine with every move he made. He winced, trying his best to avoid looking at his busted leg and continued to look around, scanning his surroundings for any possible signs of help, only to be horrified of what he had seen. There laid his beloved girlfriend on the ground pinned down by a large portion of the cieling, her arm serverly injured from the blast. Panic rose in the ginger haired wizard as he saw blood starting to pool from under her.

“Oh Merlin, (Y/N)! Sweet heart” he called out, only for no response. Tears pricked in the twins eyes as he desperately tried to shove the rock away from his leg, clawing, punching, shoving, trying everything to get himself free to run by his lovers side.

When he saw no signs of the bolder budging, he howled in anger as he turned back to his unconscious girlfriend, noticing how her arms extending towards his. Fred’s lips quivered as he tried his best to reach her, his fingers barely touching her cold ones. “(Y/N)! Baby! Please wake up!” He called, after a while of calling and crying her name the (H/C) hair witch seemed to stir just little, causing Fred to cry out with joy.

Turning her head slowly she looked at her boyfriends frightened brown eyes, tears falling as he saw the condition she was in. “F-Fred” she called out weakly, “(N/N)! Oh Merlin sweetheart! Stay with me Darling! We can get through this, they’re coming to get us!” Fred cried out as he tried again to reach for her hand.

(Y/N) hummed painfully as she suddenly coughed out blood, the sight causing Fred to panic even more. “I-it h-hurts...” she whimpered out, looking at the blood she had just coughed up. “I know! I know, but it’s close they’re coming! Help! Help!” He tried his best to scream out but his tired lungs had failed him and what came out was a raspy cry, deafened by the chaos of the battle raging outside.

After a couple of minutes had gone by his hope slowly diminished as he watched her beautiful (E/C) orbs slowly close. “No! No! Baby look at me! Don’t you dare close your eyes!” He shouted doing his best once again to shove the piece of concrete from his leg, crying out when it didn’t move once again. He screamed in frustration, “Do y-you remember? When w-we first met? It was right here” she whispered, inhaling sharply as her vision started to blurr from her blood loss and tears.

Fred whimpered as he sucked in a breath, his head injury pulsating causing him to fall on the ground helplessly. “Yeah.. it was right here” he answered quietly. He begged to Merlin, to anyone, to come and save them, to save her. He couldn’t lose her. (Y/N) sighed, then suddenly winced at the pain again, her body slowly going numb.

“You accidentally fell into our prank that was meant for my brother” he stated chucking a little at the memory. Her (H/C) hair drenched with green sludge, (E/C) orbs sparked wildly with anger. The alluring firey spark he fell for. “Never thought there could be so much anger and mischief in that little body of yours” he teased amusingly, causing her to laugh a little, only to regret it right after.

She sucked in a breath as her once shining eyes slowly dull down. She laid her head down to the floor, fighting her best for her consciousness. “I don’t want to leave you Fred... I’m so scared” she whimpered out, tears falling down her bloody cheek. “(Y/N)... don’t worry! We’ll get through this together” Fred whimpered out as he reach for her fingers, slowly interlocking them together. The young witch mustered up enough strength to look at him. “I love you Fred Weasley... more than anything in the world...” He gulped as more tears fell from his eyes, “I-I love you too (Y/N)...” he replied. “mind if you sing me that one muggle song your dad sang that I really like love?” she whispered eyes drooping down tiredly.

Fred whimpered as he brushed his fingers into hers over and over. “I- I guess I can.”

Inhaling, he slowly began singing the melody. “You are my sunshine... my only sunshine” he started choking a little, “you make he happy when skies are gray... you’ll never know dear...” whimpered out as he closed his eyes. “How much I love you.... please don’t take my sunshine away.” Opening his eyes he looked up lovingly at his girlfriend only to see her eyes closed, smiling peacefully.

“FRED ARE YOU THERE!?” George’s raspy voice called out from the distance catching the older twins attention. “We’re here!” He yelled, throat still itchy. Fred smiled with glee, hope sparking in his heart once again. Someone was coming to save them. “Sweetheart! I think I heard George, we’ll be alright love, we’re going to be saved!” Fred rasped excitedly, laughing joyfully but she didn’t respond and the more silence rang the more his laughter died down.

“Sweet heart?...” he called out, he was met with silence again, trying a bit loud he called her name again and again but he received no response. Panic suddenly filled his body as he rubbed at her fingers, earning no reaction from the young witch. Tears welled up in Fred’s eyes as he pulled at his leg, his tormented shouts ringing in the empty corridor, “No! (Y/N) open your eyes please!” He shouted as he once again yanked harder than he ever did at his leg feeling pain shoot up his spine as he managed to wiggle just a little bit to grab her hand fully. When he felt her wrist for a pulse, he found none, confirming the only truth he dreaded to accept.

His sweet and loving girlfriend was dead, died in front of his very eyes.

All of the commotion outside seemed to stop as felt like he had gone deaf. Flashes of when they were together filling his brain. Her smile, her laugh, the silent promises to be safe under the moonlight, the beautiful sight of her in her (F/C) gown at the Yule ball.

It was so painful as he felt his world crashing down around him. Inhaling he cried out like a banshee, becoming historical as he stared at his girlfriend peaceful face. Red hot tears falling down his face like a stream but made no effort to wipe them away. Why did she have to make that face, the same face she made when she would sneak into his dorm to sleep in his bed. Sleeping peacefully at his side, so content with life. He gripped her cold hands tightly as he screamed the pain he felt, his heart breaking into little pieces on the stone cold floor.

George looked everywhere for his brother, dread piling in his stomach as more time passed and his twin was nowhere to be found. Suddenly a loud cry caught his attention along side Ron and Hermoine. “What the bloody hell was that!?” Ron asked worriedly. The trio quickly ran to the pained screams until they came upon the heartbreaking scene. There laid three bodies, Percy was on the ground out cold with a gash on his head, while Fred had his leg pinned down by a piece of the ceiling. Fred screaming his lungs out as he held her hand tightly. (Y/N)... well, (Y/N) laid there unmoving, her usual (S/T) skin was now pale and matted with blood and deep cuts. A giant piece of the concrete cieling had fell ontop if her, impaling her body, blood pooling everywhere around her.

Hermoine gasped at the scene, covering her mouth, mortified. Fred has been the source of the sound as he continued to scream and cry for his fallen beloved. Trying his best to crawl closer to her, causing severe injuries to his leg. “Fred!” George screamed, but it was drowned out by the hatred and sadness that the elder twin felt, to watch the person he loved ever since the second year die infront of his very own eyes.

George tried his best to comfort his anguished brother as he ran to his side, holding him in his arms, trying to shield him away from the gruesome scene infront of him but it was too late. The sight of her pale, peaceful face was imprinted in his mind, never to be the same again. Hermoine quickly acted, she casted the levitation spell on the boulder that held down the weasley twin. In mere seconds of being freed Fred pushed his brother away as he began to crawl to his girlfriend side, fresh tears falling from his eyes as he got closer to her, his hands flying to her face, cupping her cold and bloodied cheek. Hermoine casted another levitation spell on the rocks that had pinned down the young (H/N), throwing the piece away in anger.

Fred cried out as he tried to get into a sitting position, his twisted leg making it painful to move but never the less he did, for her. Scooping her battered body in his arms he cried harder than before. The world was cruel, how could he had been so stupid to let his guard down during a battle, because of his stupid mistake it cost the one person who was precious to him to die. He wailed as he hugged her broken body. “Fred...” his brothers whispered trying to pry him away only for him to glare hatefully at his brother.

“Why!? Why didn’t you guys come for us sooner!? To save her! Why!?” He screamed out bitterly as he continued to mourn. The trio fell silent as they looked away in shame. “Merlin Why did you have to take her and not me!” He sobbed out, as he rocked back and forth, crying into her hair as he hugged her. Suddenly, his hold on her body loosened as he felt his world spin around him, it seems like the blood loss had finally gotten to him because he felt his body crashing to the ground along side (Y/N), his world darkening as he heard the muffled screams coming from his brothers.

He felt peaceful, as he got one last look of his lovers face. It was funny really, he felt as if they were back in his dormitory once again, laying in his bed while he gazed at her beautiful sleeping face like he always did before closing his eyes dreaming of a better tomorrow. But this time. He knew. Tomorrow will never come. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes, everything going black.

The war had ended, Harry Potter had killed Voldemort and had scattered the remaining death eaters away. It was a bitter sweet victory. Harry watched as he entered the great hall to find severely injured and dead allies. What stuck out to him the most was the body of two of his closest friends. (Y/N) (L/N) and Fred Weasley, their arms intertwined with each other, Fred’s arms wrapped securely around his lovers body, seemingly trying his best to keep the girl near him, as close as possible.

Even in death, their love remained strong.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #harry potter angst #harry potter

[readbeneaththelines]

Giving Him Control Pt. 12

A/N: The contract between a Dom and a Sub can be vital to prevent any misunderstandings or complications in the relationship. It can be negotiable, and can include whatever is agreed upon between both parties.

Characters: Ravi x Reader

Warnings: angst, attempted sexual assault, language, Mad as Hell Ravi

Word Count: 2829

Please remember, this is NSFW. There is the Dom/Sub aspect of the characters, so if that is a trigger, please proceed at your own discretion.

cr to gif owner

You were near your own apartment having only been gone about a week. You fished your keys out, opening the door with a creak. It was still just as empty, and lonely as before. You headed straight for the kitchen, wanting to have a stiff drink, but remembered you had finished everything when Ravi was there. Pouring a glass of water instead, you made a mental grocery list and headed back out. Two hours later, you were carrying your bags down the street, heading back to your own life. A few more days off work would give you time to collect your thoughts and your life.

Sitting in the middle of the floor, you wondered how you got so caught up in him so quickly, your small simple world changing in a heartbeat. God! You wanted him, in every way possible, but it was so hard to have your entire life controlled. If only he would of opened up to you, explained why he was the way he was. Maybe then you could understand him a little better. 

Pulling the air mattress from one of the bags, you blew it up and set up a makeshift bed. With no TV, you turned your phone on, pulling Netflix up for a movie.  You were bored and lonely halfway through, so you decided to blow of the remaining anger and frustration you had built up inside.

Grabbing an outfit that you had left behind, you got dressed and headed out the door. You found yourself back at Octagon, the place this all started. Making your way in, you searched the building for any sign of him, moving forward when you didn’t find any.  Sidling up to the bar, you ordered a cocktail, double shot, and a beer chaser. You were planning on drinking your problems away. Once you downed them all, you headed for the dance floor, half expecting to feel his arms around you. The music consumed you, your body waying in time with the beat. With your eyes closed, you could see his face, his body in tune with yours. 

After three hours, you were well onto your way to being too drunk to walk, so you stumbled to the coat check, grabbed your purse, and headed out the door. You weren’t paying attention and your feet didn’t want to cooperate with you, so you ran head first into a firm column of a body.

“Oh excuse me Miss- Y/N? Is that you? Where’s Ravi?” the male voice asked.

Peering up through blurry eyes, you thought you recognized the man standing before you.

“Ohh, sorry. Ravi’s-I don’t know where he is. Aren’t you the man from the dinner the other night?” your words were slurring. Not a good thing either.

“Yeah, Ravi gave me quite the ass beating for asking about you. But seeing that he isn’t here, then maybe I can borrow you for the night.”

He grabbed at your waist, pulling you to him. 

“Why don’t you let me show you a good time Miss Y/N? Ravi’s not here to save you now.”

His breath was sickeningly sweet and hot as his whispered near your ear. If you had been sober, you would of had the mind to run, but instead you just froze, your body pressed to his.

“No thank you. I just need to head home.”

“The only place your going right now sweetheart, is home with me.”

His voice was angry sounding, filling your mind with fear. You tried to wriggle free, but he was much stronger than you. He kept his arm around your waist as he began walking away from the club.

You wanted to scream, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating with your brain, and nothing came out. He lifted your feet off the ground, effectively carrying you when you started kicking. Your heart was racing, bile rising in your throat as the reality of the situation hit you. Instead of taking you to his car, he turned down the alley. Darkness surrounded you and he went deeper in.

Someone, please help me!

Your head screamed, but not out loud. His hands were pinning you to the wall, his lips placing sloppy kisses on your neck. You twisted your wrists, rough brick cutting at your flesh. Taking both of your small wrists in his one hand, he began clawing at your top, rough hands grasping at your breasts underneath.

“No one is going to hear you if you scream. I get to have you all to myself now, you little cock tease.”

You were pinned hard against the brick wall, his weight too much for you to push off. His free hand pulled your skirt up to your hip, then gripped at the fabric of your panties. Tears were streaming down your face, your mind going numb to the fact that he was going to assault you, and you were powerless to stop it. 

Taking a risk to throw him off, you spat in his face, bringing some of his weight off of you, as he stepped back.

“You little bitch!” he yelled.

That was all you heard before you felt the back of his hand land flush on the side of your face, pain immediately biting at your cheek. You tasted blood in your mouth as he slapped your other cheek, hard. 

“I guess I am going to have to teach you some manners, bitch!” spit was peppering your face as he screamed at you.

As he tried to kiss you again, you opened your mouth, only to bite down as hard as you could on his bottom lip. More blood filled your mouth as you ripped the lip open when he pulled back. He stumbled backwards, his hand flying to his torn and bloody lip. 

Now was your chance, and you took it. Sprinting down the alleyway, your drunken legs twisted, bringing you face first on the concrete. You didn’t have time to care, as you scrambled up, trying to regain control of your body. You heard his footsteps coming up behind you at a rapid pace, pushing you into flight mode. You were mere inches from the main street, your voice attempting to find its way out.

You were able to get yourself out, crashing into a few people as you stepped into the street. They were as drunk as you, just looking at you as they walked off. Pulling your skirt and top down, you wrapped your arms around your body as you made quick steps to your place. Sobs racked your body when you were alone on the sidewalk that lead to your apartment. Falling to your knees, you saw headlights coming up behind you and tires screeching to a halt. You tried getting up when you heard the car door open, but there was no strength left in your limbs. Arms engulfed you, lifting you off the ground as you kicked. Violent sobs were the only sounds you made as hands shook you.

“Y/N! Dammit look at me. It’s me! It’s Ravi!”

The voice you should have recognized in a flash, didn’t register, being muffled by the rushing of your heartbeat in your ears.

The arms you had felt so many times around you already, should have felt familiar, but you were frenzied with fear. They pulled you tight against a body you should know by now, but didn’t. 

Setting you down in the beam of the headlights, Ravi looked you over.

“Jesus, Y/N! Who did this to you? Fucking tell me who did this to you!”

You cowarded back at the yelling, afraid to speak for fear that you were going to be beaten again.

“Shh, Y/N look at me. Please baby, it’s Ravi. Look at me.” he was pleading with you, his voice broken and shaky.

Lifting your head, your eyes trained in on the face that you had walked away from just a few short hours ago. His eyes grew wide when he saw the extent of your injuries. Both cheeks were split open where the man had slapped you, your top was torn, and your wrists were scraped up from rubbing against the bricks. To add to that, the cut from the fall at his house was bleeding from the fall you took in the alley.

You were emotionally broken, and his arms were the only thing holding you together at that moment. He picked you up, carrying you to the car. He flung the back door open, laying you on the seat as carefully as he could. The car started, jarring you slightly as he peeled away. All you could do was cry, saying over and over that it was your fault.

Ravi watched you through the rearview mirror, rage etched in his face, but his eyes were filled with tears. He had seen you walk into the club, watching from the VIP suite on the second level. He had watched you dancing and drinking, drinking and dancing some more until you were nearly falling out of the door. It took him some time to make his way down, and by then you were gone. He looked up and down the street, searching for you. He told himself that he would just follow you to make sure you got home safe. Getting in his car, he headed for your place, barely seeing you crumpled on the ground before he stopped. Even in the shadows, he knew something wasn’t right. You were trembling, loud cries tearing from your chest and he came up to you. Pulling you into the beam of light, his heart fell to his gut, his earlier drinks threatening to come back up in his mouth. You were bloodied and bruised, your top had been ripped up the side, your skirt torn at the hem. Your eyes were wild with fear, and you were looking right through him. 

When he found out who did this to you, there would be one less human on this planet. 

Pulling up to the emergency room bay, he yelled for someone to help him. Two nurses came running out with a stretcher as he pulled you from the back seat. You had stopped crying, but your eyes were blank and you were motionless. He followed you in, holding your hand in his until he could go no further. He waited, his anger growing with each passing second that ticked by on the clock.

“Is there anyone here with Y/F/N Y/L/N?” a nurse called out from the doorway. Rising up, Ravi walked over and stood before her, towering over her tiny frame.

“We just wanted to inform you that she is being admitted, and they are getting her room ready right now.”

 She told him the room number and left. Next a young intern came to speak with him.

“H-How? How is she?”

“She’s asleep right now. She was roughed up pretty severely.” his tone flat and calm.

“Was she-?

He could bring himself to say the word, and thankfully he didn’t have to.

“No, thankfully. She told us she was able to get away. She is in shock right now, and we are keeping her overnight for observation.”

Relief washed over Ravi. He thanked the doctor then headed for the room you were going to be in. You were already there when he arrived. Bandages were covering the wounds on your head and cheeks, your wrists wrapped in gauze. He thought you looked so small and frail in the large bed, an IV hooked up to your arm. Your eyes were closed, and he was somewhat glad that he couldn’t see the pain and fear in them.

Pulling a chair up beside the bed, he took your hand in his, being careful not to wake you.

“I’m going to find who did this to you, and I will make him suffer just like you are. I’m sorry I let you walk away from me. You should be home with me right now, safe in my bed, not here in some hospital like this.”

He had never felt this kind of pain over someone, and it scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to let you go, but he had no right to keep you with him if you didn’t want to stay. But he wanted you to stay, even though it frightened him. He had to find a way to prove to you that he wanted you there, even if it meant that you had control over your life. You were his enigma, and he wanted to know how you were getting under his skin.

He didn’t sleep, but instead watched over you as the night stretched on. By morning time, he had just closed his eyes when he heard you cry out, terror in your voice. He stood immediately, placing his hand over yours, talking to you softly.

“Y/N, I’m here. No one is going to hurt you again, no one. Your safe. Shhh.”

You breathing evened out, your expression relaxing as he spoke to you. You had heard that voice, remember the way it drew you to its sound. You felt safe when you heard it, but you couldn’t see who it belonged to, no matter how hard you tried.

It was well into the afternoon when you roused from your sleep. Blinking, you studied your strange surroundings. When you realized you were in a hospital room, panic rose in your chest. Catching a glimpse of your wrists, everything came flooding back. Bile rose in your chest, causing you to throw up all over your bed. You saw a flash of movement beside you, before your stomach emptied.

Whoever it was had gone to get you a towel and cold washcloth. Covering what was now in your lap with the towel, he put the cool cloth to the back of your head, cooling you down.

From the corner of your eye you saw something dark on tanned skin. A tattoo, his tattoo.

Lifting your head up, you turned slowly to look at him. He was a pitiful sight. Eyes red and tired, hair a tousled mess, dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled up. Worry and concern etched his face while he watched you cautiously.

“Why? Wha-Why are you here?” you asked.

You weren’t angry, but genuinely curious as to why he was in your room and how he knew you were here.

“I’m the one that found you last night, Y/N. I brought you here.”

“You- You found me? You’re the one that found me? But how? Why?

“I saw you at the club, and then went to find you after you left, but I couldn’t find you. I was going to drive until I found you, then follow to make sure you got home safely. By the time I found you, you were crumpled on the ground, terrified. I brought you here.”

“But why did you look for me? Why did you stay here? We don’t have our agreement.”

“Y/N, who did this to you? Just tell me so I can make whoever pay.”

You closed your eyes tight against the face that intruded your memory. Opening them to look back at Ravi, tears filled your eyes.

“I-It-It was the man from the dinner the other night. He was drunk and I had run into him as I started walking home. And-”, you sobs broke over your words.

Ravi stood and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his chest.

“I am so sorry that I wasn’t there in time to protect you. I should have been there to keep you safe.”

You grabbed his arm in your hand, clinging to it like a lifeline, the glue that would hold you together. He stayed like that until your tears subsided and you had relaxed in his embrace.

“Come back with me Y/N, let me take care of you.”

“Ravi, I can’t live like that. I need my own control over things.” you looked up at him.

“Okay.”

“”What? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, I am willing to compromise if it means you will be safe and with me.”

“I don’t know, Ravi?” and you truly weren’t sure about it.

But you did feel safe when you were with him, he did protect you and take care of you, despite some of the rules you had broken. You were terrified to go home alone, and you really did have no other place to go.

“I’ll stay in the room you gave me. You will get the rest of my stuff and bring it over, but I am keeping the apartment, just in case.”

“Agreed. Whatever it takes to have you safe with me.”

“And Ravi.”

He sat down, looking into your eyes, he nodded for you to go on.

“Thank you for finding me.” you half smiled as you laid back on the pillow.

@aspaceformyself @trapped-inside-my-head @beautifulseoulliar @maxinaptak @seoulsunshineandstories @xjamlessparkx @kpop-addictedloser @astronomyturtle  @trashkazuya @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570  @kwonnansi @kpop-addictedloser

#vixx ravi #ravi x reader #ravi smut #ravi angst #dom ravi

[markswoman]

furthering away in the sky | zcl

the way your eyes twinkle as you smile at him really does make chenle feel like the king of the world.

pairing | terminally ill!chenle x reader | fluff + angst | 6.1k |

warning: mention of blood, death

an: rip chenle :( title cred to @jenuminous ♡

cr to gif owner

Chenle is staring blankly out the window when someone bursts into his room in an explosion of color and words.

“Haechan! I can’t believe you broke a leg trying to impress that Mark with that dance move! You’re so—” The person, a girl about Chenle’s age, stops speaking when you take in the sight of Chenle gaping wordlessly at you. “And you’re not Haechan,” you finish, lowering the flowers and balloons you are brandishing. “I-I’m sorry?” Chenle stammers out. You flail your arms a bit, causing some petals from the flower bouquet you are carrying to float gently to the floor. “No, I should be sorry! I got the wrong room. Sorry to be a bother!” And like that, you left in the same whirlwind that you came in with. Chenle barely has time to wonder what just happened when you shuffle back in. “Ah, sorry, but do you by any chance know where room 0606 is?” You ask sheepishly. “It should be a little further down the hall on your left,” says Chenle immediately. “Oh.” You look surprised. “You know your way around here pretty well. Thanks!” You turn to leave, but then hesitates. “Do you want a balloon?” You ask, gesturing to the cluster of balloons you have. You select a white balloon from the bunch and offer it to Chenle. Chenle reaches out to take it, but the tubes keep him from going too far from the machines. This does not go unnoticed. You step closer and before Chenle realizes what you are doing, ties the ribbon in a neat bow around Chenle’s wrist, careful to avoid the tubes. “There,” you say, and the smile that spreads across your face is so bright that Chenle has a hard time looking at it. “Thanks again!” You wave as you leave the room and close the door gently behind you; a contrast to the loud words that had spilled out of your mouth only moments before. Chenle gazes up at the white balloon, watching it bob lazily as he moves his hand. A slow smile spreads across his face. - To say Chenle is surprised to see you sitting next to his door the following day after his treatment is an understatement. Upon seeing Chenle, you shoot up and wave at him enthusiastically. “What are you doing here?” Chenle blurts out when the nurse wheels him up to his door. “I’ll take it from here,” you tell the nurse happily, and proceed to wheel Chenle into his room. Chenle is too confused to protest when you help him climb into his bed as though Chenle isn’t a complete stranger. You smile at the balloon that is tied to the head of Chenle’s bed. “You kept it!” “Yeah,” says Chenle dazedly. “I’m sorry. But why are you here?” “You seem lonely Chenle!” You chirp. “You’re Zhong Chenle, right? I swear I’m not being a creepy stalker or anything!” You continue before Chenle can ask. “Your name was on the card under the room number thingy.” “Oh, okay.” Chenle watches you drag the chair from the corner of the room to the bedside. “Do you often speak using so many exclamation points?” You look surprised for a moment before bursting into a carefree laughter that fills up the room with a sort of cheer that it hasn’t seen in a while. “Sorry, I’m kind of an enthusiastic person,” you say once the laughter has passed. “I’ll try to be more quiet.” “No,” says Chenle quickly, waving a hand frantically. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just…not many people around here speak so enthusiastically, and I like it—it’s a nice change.” He says the last part to his lap, too embarrassed to say it to you directly. When Chenle looks up, there’s a grin so wide on your face that your eye twitches. It would be creepy if it wasn’t so endearing. “So how’s the food here?” You ask, smile not leaving your face. “Haechan spent the last hour complaining about bad it was.” “It could be worse,” says Chenle, and you laugh again at the face he makes. “Haechan…your friend who broke his leg trying to impress…?” “Mark,” you fill in quickly. “Mark is a senior at our school, and Haechan’s been trying to be friends with him since forever. For some reason, Haechan thought breakdancing would be the way into his good graces, not the way into the hospital.” You chuckle at your own joke. “Was he impressed? Mark?” Chenle questions curiously. “Probably not, but he definitely pities Haechan because he was coming in with a bunch of flowers as I was leaving. Haechan’s probably on cloud nine right now.” You brighten and reach down into your bag. “Speaking of gifts, I have something for you.” You come up with a miniature foil balloon on a stick and hand it to Chenle. Chenle stares at the ‘Get well soon!’ printed in neon yellow lettering across the balloon and feels deeply touched. It has been a long while since anyone has bothered getting him a gift of that sort. “You didn’t have to,” he says, and is horrified that his voice comes out thickly. He sniffs and tries to blink away the tears that have inexplicably sprung up in his eyes. “It’s just something I got from the gift store downstairs,” you interject hurriedly, eyes wide as a tear makes its way down Chenle’s cheek. “It’s nothing much. Please don’t cry.” Tugging down the sleeve of your shirt, you use it to gently dry Chenle’s face. Chenle lets out a choked laugh. “There’s a box of tissues on the nightstand,” he informs you. You pause in your ministrations and stare dumbly at the box. “Oh.” You scratch your head as an embarrassed smile graces your lips. “Well then. I feel smart.” Chenle clutches the stick of his balloon and gives you a watery smile. With as much sincerity as he can muster, he says a quiet, “Thank you.” Your answering beam is so bright that it momentarily blinds Chenle. - “Chenle!” You cry as you burst into the room, not unlike the way you did the first time you came in. “Guess what I have?” Chenle glances in amusement at the colorful thing that you are waving around. “A balloon?” He guesses. You plop down on Chenle’s bed and ruffle his hair in a familiar, affectionate gesture. “Not just any old balloon! A balloon for making balloon animals and stuff!” “You know how to make balloon animals?” Chenle asks, a little impressed. “No,” you admit, deflating a bit. “I got it from Mark. Apparently, he has a part-time job making balloon animals at one of those kiosks in the mall. He was making all sorts of things for Haechan when I got there, and let me tell you, Haechan was thrilled. He kept every single one and hid them so he wouldn’t look like a creep to Mark!” You then blow up the balloon and tie the end. They both stare at it for a moment. “I think this is the part where you start twisting,” Chenle says helpfully. “I’m going to make a puppy,” you announce with a determined tone. “Because you remind me of a puppy.” Before Chenle can protest that you are the one that’s like a puppy with your excitement and eager-to-please nature, you give the balloon a mighty twist. Your tongue sticks out between your teeth in concentration as you shape the balloon, and Chenle tries not to smile too widely at your focused expression. “Um,” you say a few minutes later. “That didn’t quite work out the way I planned…” Chenle struggles to keep a straight face. “I think it’s a lovely sausage link,” he says solemnly. “Argh!” You cry in frustration, hands running through and messing up your mop of hair. “Okay, I’m going to have to ask Mark to teach me. I will make you something, I swear!” You promise Chenle with such earnestness that Chenle just doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he didn’t really want one in the first place. - Chenle can’t help flushing deeply when you bounce in the next day and fix a clumsily made, oversized golden crown on his head, declaring Chenle royalty in a booming voice and mock-bowing to him. Because the way your eyes twinkle as you smile at him really does make Chenle feel like the king of the world. - “Chenle,” you stage-whisper as you slip into the room. You scurry over to Chenle’s bed with barely contained eagerness. Chenle raises an eyebrow. You usually enter the room alerting your presence, so he knows immediately that something is up. “Is something going on today?” asks Chenle carefully, closing the book he had been reading and setting it on his stand. You’re practically shaking with excitement as you clamber onto the bed to open the window. “Come here,” you insist, tugging on Chenle’s hand. Chenle allows himself to be pulled to the window. “What’s going on?” He peers out the window and down at the courtyard below. “Haechan is getting discharged today!” You reveal gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “Yay?” Chenle tries, still confused. “If he’s getting discharged, shouldn’t you be helping him with being discharged and all?” “Nah, he’s got Mark; he wouldn’t want me there. Besides, I have better things to do with you—” you procure a bucket out of nowhere and drag it onto the bed, “—and these bad boys.” “Water balloons,” Chenle states blankly, looking at the multi-colored blobs. “You see,” you explain patiently, “your window is directly above the entrance that Haechan will be using to leave.” “Oh. Oh.” You smile impishly. “Now all we have to do is watch and wait.” A few minutes later, two figures emerge from the entrance. Chenle pulls your sleeve. “Is that them?” “Yup,” you snicker as the figure with crutches hobbles slowly along. “And let the fun begin.” You hand Chenle a water balloon. “Here, you do the honors.” Chenle shakes his head frantically. “I can’t water bomb a person I don’t know,” he hisses, pushing the wobbling balloon back to you. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” You maintain, thrusting the balloon tenaciously at Chenle. “Haechan’s a good sport; he won’t be too mad. We’ve pranked each other lots of times already!” “No!” cries Chenle, knocking your hand out of the way. “I can’t!” The balloon slips from your grip and flies out the window. Chenle and you exchange looks before scrambling to stick their heads out the window. “Uh-oh,” you murmur as you observe the trajectory of the balloon. It’s heading in Haechan’s direction, but not quite. “Oh no, no no no no no please not—” The balloon explodes on the person without the crutches, causing both him and Haechan to jump in surprise. Haechan, losing his balance and toppling over on the grass, escapes most of the water. Mark bears the brunt of it, the balloon’s contents drenching him from head to toe. Slowly, with water dripping everywhere, Mark turns around and looks up. “Crap!” you yelp, and you quickly pull Chenle back into the room. Your phone suddenly rings, Mark’s name flashing on the caller ID. Giving Chenle a horrified look, you slowly press the answer button. “Hey, Mark! How are you?” You say as chirpily as possible. “Don’t give me that crap,” a sickeningly sweet voice replies. “You clearly don’t value your life. No worries. I will relieve you of that burden next time we meet.” There is a click as the call ends. You flop over and bury your face in Chenle’s lap. “I’m so screwed,” you groan dramatically. “This is it—this is the end for me. Goodbye, sweet life! If only we had longer.” Chenle takes one look at your prone figure, and, without meaning to, bursts into laughter, the sound bubbling uncontrollably from his mouth. By the time he finishes, there are tears in his eyes and a mean stitch in his side that leaves him breathless. He looks at you to see you sitting up and staring wide-eyed at him. “What?” asks Chenle with a slight frown on his face. “Is there something on my face?” You shake your head, hair bouncing. “No. It’s just…” You trail off before shaking your head once more, cheeks coloring slightly. “It’s nothing,” you assure Chenle. Chenle doesn’t believe you and proceeds to pester you about it for the rest of the day. But no matter how much Chenle pleads, whines, and, as a last resort, tickles, you refuse to tell him; an infuriating, secretive smile growing on your face with every passing minute. - The next day, you whine about how evil Mark is under his cute exterior and declare that adorable people should not be trusted on account of fraud and deception. “Except you,” you add self-righteously. “My Chenle is as adorable on the outside as he is on the inside.” “You sure about that?” drawls Chenle before he pushes you off his bed and onto the floor. “Not you too!” You lament when you pop back up, rubbing your butt tentatively. “How could you, Chenle? I trusted you, and you betrayed me!” Chenle chortles as you gingerly climb back onto the bed, unable to keep a wide, silly smile off your face. (he can’t keep one off his either.) - Chenle falls asleep after receiving treatment, and he vaguely remembers being pushed down the hallway, a whispered conversation, and going up, up, up before he drifts off again. He comes to once more when a warm hand gently shakes him awake. “Huh,” Chenle gargles intelligently. “Chenle, wake up,” a voice coaxes. Chenle cracks open an eye and is greeted by a megawatt smile. “Ugh it’s you?” “The one and only!” Chenle straightens in his wheelchair and rubs the remnants of sleepiness from his eyes. “What’s up?” When you don’t answer, Chenle peers over at you. “Wait wh—Whoa!” Chenle takes a moment to look around at the chain link fence and the view of buildings touching the sky. “Why are we on the rooftop?” Despite the shining sun overhead, he shivers as a cold wind blows. You hold up a small piece of paper and a pen. “Because we’re going to write our wishes down, attach them to those—” you nod at the two floating balloons that you have ready, “—and send them off on a journey!” “What prompted this?” mused Chenle. “It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do,” you say as you place a piece of paper and a pen in Chenle’s lap. “Think of a good wish, okay? And no peeking at mine!” You stick your tongue out childishly and then turn around to prevent Chenle from seeing. Chenle bites back a smile before turning to his own piece of paper. What to wish for… Chenle peeks over at you and sees you in deep thought, back hunched in concentration. Perhaps… Rubbing his hands together, Chenle picks up his pen and, willing his fingers to cooperate with every ounce of resolve he has, puts it to the paper. He moves the tip and produces an indistinct, shaky line. Chenle frowns and tries again. The results are the same. Chenle bites his bottom lip nervously, glancing over at you to make sure you aren’t looking. He takes a deep breath, coughing slightly when the smoky air dries his throat, and turns back to his paper. There are red flecks peppering the white surface, slowly seeping into it. He stares at it in horror. Chenle swallows thickly with rising anxiety as he tastes a faint but tell-tale coppery tang. “Are you done with your wish?” Your voice rings out, jerking Chenle out of his reverie. Chenle quickly rolls the stained paper up clumsily so you won’t see. “Yeah,” he says, smiling as you turn around. “Ready when you are.” You speedily tie the ribbon around your rolled-up paper before turning to help Chenle with his. “Okay,” you say when both of you are holding your respective balloons and wishes. “We’ll think about our wish as hard as we can, and on the count of three, we’ll let them go. Ready?” Chenle nods. “One.” Chenle closes his eyes and thinks about what he wants most in the world. “Two.” He reaches blindly to his side, and his hand finds you, who laces their fingers together. “Three.” You squeeze Chenle’s hand. Chenle lets go of his balloon and opens his eyes. The two balloons float upwards, the strings tangling briefly before gradually unraveling and allowing the balloons to travel separately. They watch the progress until the two balloons are merely dots in the blue sky. Chenle lowers his eyelids and tilts his head back, soaking in the warmth of the sunlight. It’s been a while since he’s gone outside, so he wants to savor every moment of it. “Chenle.” Chenle blinks, and you’re kneeling in front of him so you’re eye to eye. You take both of Chenle’s hands. “Chenle,” you repeat, and Chenle is mesmerized by how the sun forms a halo of light in your hair.

“Chenle.” “Yes?” breathes Chenle. There’s something in the way that your lips curve up, something that Chenle can’t quite put a name to nor understand. You don’t answer for a moment, and you merely hold his gaze with an intensity that simultaneously electrifies and worries Chenle. Then, with a soft laugh, you set Chenle’s hands back in his lap and stand up in one fluid movement. “We should get you back inside,” you say in a lighthearted tone as you brush off your clothes. “The nurses will scold me if I keep you up here any longer.” You gather up your belongings and wheel Chenle back inside, chattering about how Haechan and Mark are best friends now and how disgustingly close they are with one another. “Hey,” says Chenle, glancing up as said person is ranting about one particularly traumatizing lunch period. You have an inquisitive expression on your face. “Yes Chenle?” “I like balloons,” Chenle states plainly, and this time, he doesn’t need to look back to know that you have an impish grin on your face. “I like balloons too,” you admit quietly. Your hands linger when you tuck Chenle into bed later, fingers lightly skimming Chenle’s jaw and leaving a fiery trail in their wake. - You bound in, ready to throw yourself onto Chenle’s bed, but stop short when you see more machines than usual. “What are those, Chenle?” You ask, genuinely confused. “Oh, these?” Chenle gestures flippantly with a small smile. ��This one is to help me breath when I sleep, and this one is to help me eat because I can’t…it’s a bit hard for me to swallow.” A weird expression flashes across your face before you’re smiling and laughing again, asking Chenle about his day and telling him about your friend Jeno’s latest antics in his quest to get the cute Chinese transfer student to notice him.

Chenle is just about nodding off when the door opens and you walk in and look taken aback to see him. “Chenle,” you gasp, surprise coloring your tone. You glance down at your phone. “Shouldn’t you be in treatment right now?” Chenle shakes his head, feeling much more awake. “I don’t have treatment anymore.” “Oh.” You frown. “Well, I was going to surprise you when you got back, but I guess…” Before Chenle can ask, you reach out in the hall and pull in numerous colorful balloons, so many that by the time you’re done, Chenle can’t see the ceiling anymore. Chenle gapes wordlessly at the balloons. “What is this?” he manages. You shuffle your feet and scratch your head. “Surprise?” You offer. “I got as many balloons as I could—that is, as many as the store offered—and I—” You swallow. “I wrote messages to you, one on each balloon. Do you like it?” You look at Chenle, eyes wide and anxious. “Do I like it?” Chenle repeats disbelievingly. “I love it!” At the approval, you perk up, a wide and oddly bashful beam lighting up your features. “Would you like to read the messages now? They’re not much, but…” Chenle pats the spot on the bed next to him, and you walk over and sit snugly beside him. “Will you read them to me?” Chenle asks softly, twining hands together. Your answering smile is affectionate. “Of course. That green one says, ‘Your smile is brighter than the sun.’ That red one is, “I like your eyes.” The blue one over there—” “Hold up,” Chenle interrupts. “How do you know what they say? You’re not even reading off of them. Are you making them up as you go along?” You roll your eyes and flick Chenle’s forehead playfully. “Because I gave each quote a lot of thought before I wrote them, so I remember what they all say.” You look quite proud of yourself for this accomplishment. “Is your brain always so mushy?” Chenle teases you, bumping their shoulders together. “Oh, hush, you. You like my mush,” you shush, hand coming up to push Chenle’s head down gently so that it’s resting on your shoulder. “There. You can sleep if you want now. Your eyes are doing the squinty thing it does when you’re sleepy.” “It’s not!” Chenle protests, squinting up at you, who muffles a chuckle behind your hand. “Okay, I might be a little tired,” Chenle admits grudgingly. “But I don’t want to sleep when you’re here; it’s a waste of time. And I want to hear what you wrote.” You fall silent for a moment before speaking up. “How about I continue reading until you fall asleep?” You suggest. “I’m not going to fall asleep,” Chenle grumbles. “But fine.” “Sure, whatever you say,” you laugh. “Okay, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, the blue one over there says, ‘I’ve never met anyone as easy to talk to as you.’ And the purple one is, ‘With you, everything feels possible.’ Oh, and that orange one over there…” Despite his protests that he wouldn’t fall asleep, Chenle’s eyelids feel heavy, and after struggling for a few minutes, he gives up and allows them to drift shut. Your voice washes over him like a soothing, calm wave, and Chenle wants nothing more than to lose himself in it, to immerse himself so deeply that he can’t find his way back out. And that, Chenle dimly thinks, really wouldn’t be a bad way to go. - When Chenle jerks awake some time later, he’s lying down properly on the bed with his oxygen mask in place, and you’re nowhere in sight. Chenle blearily notes with a little disappointment that the room is dark and visiting hours must be long over. Heaving a sigh, he adjusts himself and feels a slight tug at his wrist. Chenle looks up. There’s a white balloon tied loosely to his wrist, much like the one you had given him when they first met. However, this one is slightly different; there’s a wide smiley face drawn on it with wild curls on top finishing the simple picture. And when the balloon turns lazily, Chenle can see that written on the back is, I will always be by your side. Chenle falls back into a deep slumber with a smile on his face, feeling a kind of warmth that his blankets cannot provide, and dreams of a world far away, where a girl who means everything can have their happy ending. “Me too, you know,” Chenle mumbles when you seat yourself next to the bed the following day. “You too what?” you ask, absently stroking the back of Chenle’s hand with your thumb. “I will always be by your side too, no matter what. You know that right?” Your thumb stills, and your hand tightens almost imperceptibly around Chenle’s before you bring it up to your lips and place a butterfly kiss on Chenle’s first two knuckles—carefully—as though Chenle will break if any more force is exerted. You exhale, breath tickling Chenle’s skin. “I know.”

- It’s getting harder and harder to stay awake for long periods of time with all the medication they are pumping into him. So, Chenle takes care to sleep as much as possible before and after visiting hours so he can spend those scant times conscious to the world. It isn’t enough though, and Chenle still finds himself nodding off from time to time as you wheel him around the hospital or, after Chenle is no longer allowed to leave his room, when you tell stories of your school life or dances to the newest pop songs in a flurry of uncoordinated limbs. He tries to make up for it by smiling wider (even though it takes more effort), laughing louder (even though it leaves him too breathless too fast), and being more enthusiastic (even though he has no energy left). Chenle just hopes that you don’t notice the darkening circles under his eyes, the hollowing of his cheeks, or the sallowness of his skin. (You do). - Chenle wakes up one day during visiting hours and finds a conspicuous lack of you in the room. To say it’s disappointing is an understatement, and Chenle is so preoccupied with wondering where you could be that it takes him a good few minutes to realize that there’s a phone on the chair you usually sit in. Attached to said phone is a post-it that says, Chenle, call the number listed when you wake up, okay? :)

With unsteady hands, Chenle reaches for the phone and follows the instructions. The phone barely rings once before the line picks up. “Chenle,” chirps your familiar voice happily. “You’re up.” “Yeah,” replies Chenle, trying to sound casual and not too frantic. “Where are you right now?” You chuckle. “I’m outside.” “And why are you outside?” asks Chenle, humoring your playful tone. “You’ll see in a minute. Chenle, look out the window, okay? Don’t look away or you might miss it!” You warn. Then, in a muffled, faraway voice, you shout, “Are you ready, guys?” There is a chorus of muted affirmatives before you say, “Okay, in three…two…one!” Chenle keeps his gaze fixed on the white clouds and blue sky outside, pondering what exactly you don’t want him to miss. He doesn’t have to think for long though because the room suddenly explodes into hundreds of colors. The phone slips out of Chenle’s hand. He stares in awe as dozens upon dozens of balloons of every color float by, completely blocking out the window and casting vibrantly tinted light all around the room. Weariness forgotten, Chenle struggles to the window and presses himself against the cool glass as the last of them passes by, looking up as easily a hundred balloons fly up and dot the sky like a bunch of colorful stars. It is simply the most beautiful sight Chenle has ever seen. He laughs, feeling inexplicably uninhibited, and continues to watch the sky until long after the balloons are out of sight. “Did you like it?” Chenle turns, and there at the door you stand, phone still in hand with cheeks flushed and forehead slightly damp from what was probably a sprint from the outside courtyard to Chenle’s room. Despite your obvious breathlessness, there is a wide smile playing on your lips, and Chenle rescinds his previous thought, because what’s a bunch of colorful balloons compared to you—this kind, playful, big-hearted person before him. There are no words for this moment, so Chenle just nods, and when you come over, Chenle clutches your hands tightly. “Did you do this all by yourself?” Chenle asks once his speech has returned. “I had a bunch of friends help me fill the balloons up and release it and stuff,” you answer, finger idly tracing patterns into Chenle’s palm. Chenle curls his hand around your finger, and you look curiously at him. Leaning in until they’re a breath apart, Chenle presses their foreheads together, and hoping that you will understand the lifetime of emotions he’s trying to convey in too little words. He whispers, “Thank you. For everything. You know.” The corners of your lips tug upwards. Your eyes glimmer with an odd brightness, and Chenle is close enough to know that it’s reflected in his own. “I know.” - “Chenle, are you cold?” You ask worriedly. “You’re shivering. Should I go get more blankets?” Chenle wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t pointed it out. He quietly spreads out the fingers of his hand and sees that, yes, he is indeed shaking. “I’m not cold,” Chenle laughs, and try as he might, he just can’t keep the tiredness out of his voice. “I just…ache. Everything aches; I can feel the ache all the way down to my bones.” You take his hand silently, and even though it’s painful to his hypersensitive nerves, Chenle holds on tighter to the only thing keeping him anchored there. - Everything becomes a blur from there. With the doctors prescribing more medication and painkillers, Chenle finds himself sleeping for most of the day, sometimes even through visiting hours despite his attempts to wake up in time. You assure him that it’s perfectly fine and that Chenle should just sleep whenever he feels the need to. But sometimes, Chenle drifts awake when you’re there, when you think he’s asleep. Your grip on Chenle’s hand is always gentle, but desperate. With your head bowed and your expression set in an unhappy frown that doesn’t match your normally cheery face, you breathe out hushed pleas and prayers. “Please don’t go, Chenle,” Chenle hears you whisper. “I don’t want you to go. Please don’t leave me. I’m not—I’m not ready, even though I thought I was. I just—” your voice cracks, and Chenle feels something inside him break. - Chenle wakes up to his bed being turned around. “What are you doing here?” he rasps, as he spots you in the darkness . “For a present!” You appear beside Chenle once you finish turning the bed so that Chenle is facing the window. You’re smiling widely, and your smile glows in the darkness. Chenle blinks blearily as his vision adjusts to the dimness of the room. “What are you doing? Visiting hours should be over.” “They are.” You bob your head in agreement, your hair springing along. “I just snuck back in.” “To rearrange my furniture in the middle of the night?” Chenle chuckles weakly at his own joke. “Something like that,” you hum contentedly. You carefully shift Chenle to one side of the bed before kicking off your shoes and climbing in yourself. In a bed meant for one person, the addition of you with all your extra limbs is awkward, but Chenle is glad for it because you wrap an arm around his shoulder and press close to him. “Really now.” Your laugh brightens up the awkward mood. “We’re going to watch the stars,” you say, voice dropping into a dreamy whisper. “I think I see the Big Dipper over there! Do you see it, Chenle?” Chenle nods, and he closes his eyes as your fingers find his hair and play with it. You start humming a song, one Chenle vaguely remembers hearing before. It’s the only sound breaking the silence for a while, and it lulls Chenle back to sleep several times. “Chenle, look.” You nudge him awake gently and point out the window. Chenle follows your finger in time to see a star streaking across the night sky and leaving a trail of fading light in its wake. “A shooting star. Make a wish.” Your words jog something in Chenle’s memory. “Hey.” “What?” “Do you remember on the rooftop?” “The wishes tied to the balloons? I remember.” “What did you wish for?” You laugh softly. “I wished that you would get better. You?” “I wished that you would never lose your smile even when I’m not there to see it.” You laugh again, but this time, there’s a melancholic undertone to it. “That’s a good wish,” you say wistfully. “Will you?” Chenle mumbles, lifting his head slightly to look at the way your profile is bathed in the pale moonlight. Your expression is contemplative, and when you turn to Chenle, your eyes lack their usual brightness. Your eyes sweep over Chenle’s face, taking in his features silently for a moment before answering. “Yeah,” you say simply, and Chenle knows that you understand. - “…Not much longer…” - There’s a white balloon tied to Chenle’s wrist, carefully and loosely as to avoid all the tubes. He tries to make it bob lazily, but finds that he can’t even move his hand, much less the balloon. This numbness doesn’t scare him though because it hurts much more when you grin at him. He can’t return the motion and your smile fades just a bit. - “…Very sorry, but–” - Chenle wakes up one day with the sun shining on his face and the birds chirping merrily outside his window. He feels like he’s bursting with energy, and he vaguely wonders if he’s dreaming but  he decides that it doesn’t matter. Sitting up, Chenle takes off his oxygen mask and carefully removes the needle in his hand. He swings his legs out of the bed and stands up, giggling at the sensation of the cold floor beneath his bare feet. You had nodded off in the chair next to the bed, and jerked awake at the sound and stared incredulously at him. “C-Chenle?” You stammer disbelievingly, rubbing your eyes. “What are you…” “Come on!” Chenle says encouragingly as he jogs over to the door and opens it. Without waiting to see if you’re following, Chenle breaks out into a run down the hall, scaring nurses and orderlies as he whizzes by. He slides into the elevator as it opens and presses the button for the first floor. The doors start to close, but before they can, you stick a foot in to prevent them from doing so. “Leaving without me?” You ask, feigning hurt. Chenle’s answering smile is so wide that his face aches. When they get to the bottom floor, you hold out your hand, and Chenle takes it before they’re off again, dodging all the astonished people in the lobby and ducking past the approaching security guards to get out the door. The automatic doors open with a gust of air, and they’re outside. The pavement feels warm beneath Chenle’s feet as does the sun on his face, but they don’t compare to the heat of your hand. They reach the grassy area of the courtyard, and there’s a hot air balloon waiting, standing several stories high. The rainbow pattern on it is bright and vibrant in the morning sunlight. Chenle and you slow your pace until you’re walking, intertwined hands swinging between you. “Well, this is it,” Chenle says when they finally reach the balloon. “Nice ride,” you joke, letting out a whistle. “Need help getting in it, your highness?” Chenle rolls his eyes at your mock bow, but takes the offered hand with a smile and, with your help, manages to clamber into the basket with relative ease. You scratch your head once Chenle is settled in. “I guess this is goodbye then,” you say softly, eyes downcast. Chenle rests on his elbows against the edge of the basket and takes your hands one last time. “No,” he disagrees, smiling. “This is just a ‘see you later.’” You look up at Chenle, grinning, and there’s a twinkle in your eyes, full of life and happiness. “Alright. See you later then, Chenle.” You give Chenle’s hands one last squeeze before letting go, their fingers lingering for as long as possible. With that, Chenle casts off the rope that is keeping him anchored there, and the balloon begins to slowly rise. You jog beside the basket as it moves until it picks up speed and altitude and you can’t match the pace anymore, but you keeps jogging anyways. Chenle leans precariously over the side of the basket and waves at you until his arms ache from the exertion, and keeps waving anyways, even when he’s not quite sure if you can still see him.

“See you later!” He yells to your tiny figure below. “That’s a promise!” Your grin is visible even at Chenle’s elevation. Chenle commits the curve of those lips to memory as the balloon floats higher and higher, past the buildings and into the clouds. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, Chenle looks up towards the sky above him and smiles as the breeze ruffles his hair in a familiar manner. He’s finally free.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #chenle imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream angst #chenle #zhong chenle #chenle angst #nct angst

[jaggedwolf]

CR Ficlets #2

guess who’s been binging via the podcasts and has also accumulated some ficlets

Explosions

Beau groaned as she got to her feet, digging her staff into the dirt for leverage. Fucking magical detonations going off when she was facing the other way. Fucking sneaky Empire wizards. At least it didn’t look like the cavern had collapsed, and her body didn’t feel too bad. Okay, her body felt like shit, but that was the usual this far into a fight. The air was hazy, filled with dust from the explosion. No sign of the others. Beau slid down her night-vision goggles on instinct. It didn’t help. She groaned loudly again, hoping to attract the attention of either her friends or someone to punch. Would be better than all this cloudy bullshit. There was the sound of ringing in the distance. Beau ran towards it, but a few steps in the sound seemed to come from somewhere else entirely, and then again when she changed direction. Yet there were no sounds of fighting. No yells or yelps, no sounds of spells cast or weapons carving into flesh. Uncanny as hell.

It looked like the same cavern. No way that explosion had transported her somewhere else, right? Beau picked a direction to walk in, and did so, ignoring the mysterious ringing. Blood dripped along her arms. She dabbed at it absentmindedly, yelling out into the dust. “Guys, you out here? Caleb? Jester? Fjord? Can’t see shit here.” Or she tried to yell that, but no sound came out. Had that fucker thrown a Silence over the area? Guess she was on her own. She kept walking, keeping her ears and eyes peeled, staff at the ready. Then she felt a tug on her coat and she twirled around, staff raised overhead for a first strike, only- It was Caleb, face covered with dust and looking at her in confusion. His hand quickly retreated from her shoulder to his chest. Beau relaxed. “Fuck, Caleb, warn a girl next time won’t you?” Again, no sound Caleb’s face twisted up in annoyance. His mouth moved, like he was saying something, but as Beau expected, no sound emerged. Huh, well, Caleb was smart as fuck and seemed to understand her first sentence. He could probably read lips or some shit. Beau spoke slowly. “Silence spell?” She pointed at him. “You can’t cast spells now?” Caleb covered his hand with his face, and looked at the ceiling with a desperate look. Was that a yes? Never knew with this guy. He shook his head, returning her gaze. He pointed at her and then at his own ears, and mouthed two words slowly, over and over again. Your. Ear. Beau brought a hand to her right ear. It came away wet with blood. So did her other hand for her left ear. First time for an ear injury, she could mark that one off her list. She shrugged her shoulders at Caleb. “So you can hear me?” Caleb nodded, his mouth saying what Beau guess was a very quick “yes”. “Awesome, so you can still cast spells, I can still punch people, let’s go find”-Beau paused, the pain in her ears overwhelming. It had been buried under all the other layers of hurt till Caleb had pointed out the bleeding, but now it hurt more the more she paid attention, and she swore a lot more blood was dripping onto her shoulders. It was only her ears. Beau scrunched her eyes shut tight to steady herself. When she opened them, Caleb had the audacity to be looking all concerned. Beau waved a hand in his direction. “I’m fine, we”-Her legs gave out from under her, her knees and then the rest of her collapsing on the ground. Caleb’s mouth was moving faster. It was a lot blurrier too, Beau thought, from her new vantage point of the ground, but everything was starting to look a lot blurrier. “You know,” Beau hopes she says, before the last bits of consciousness leave her, “bleeding out is the worst way to get knocked out. It sucks.”

Vocal Sex

Beau slams a pillow over her head, but it's no use. She can still hear Jester and Fjord in the next room over. The worst shit is, it's not the sounds of Jester panting and moaning that get to her, but those spurts of high-pitched laughter. She's made Jester laugh before. Not like that though, not like Fjord who was handsome and charming and several other terms Beau has been regaled with in the nights she'd shared a room with Jester. She's happy for them, she really is. Fjord deserves better than that messed-up thing he had with Avantika. Jester deserves a first time with someone nice and respectful and who'll take care of her. Jester deserves a romance like the kinds she reads and swoons over. Beau's no romantic. Beau can barely take care of herself. She twists her body off the bed, reveling in that perfect moment of balance in the air before her feet touch the ground, no hands necessary. She heads downstairs for a drink. Luck has it, she might even find someone to get under for the night.

Hurt Mentors

Unfortunate, that this is how it goes. An inelegant, public death in front of the Krynn's court. Not even the dignity of a death in the shadows. Dairon is bleeding faster now, and the sigil Beauregard handed her weighs heavily in her pocket. It will not be used here. It is too late for such things. She should have left it in the house. It could have served Beauregard. She had taken the sigil, knowing it would be unlikely to be usable by her. Perhaps because it seemed important to Beauregard she did so. A foolish impulse to have listened to. She drags her head up so that she can see the people who have bested her. Minutes of remaining life are minutes in which information can be learned, and Dairon has felt a pull towards that longer before she learned to hone her hunger for a larger purpose. The Bright Queen is imposing on her throne, and Dairon resists the instinctual anger at the sight of her. Dairon has lost many to the Krynn, but thoughtlessness would serve them no better than her own death. A noise erupts among the guards and crowd behind her. Cries of "By the order of the-" and "You can't enter, the-" are cut short. A rush of air enters the chamber, and with it, a familiar figure in blue, who stops shortly ahead of her. Her friends are nowhere to be seen. An added humiliation, Beauregard witnessing this ending. Let it be a lesson to her. Dairon doesn't outwardly react to her presence, doesn't turn her head away from the queen. Naturally, Beauregard ruins it. "What the fuck? Uh, I mean, your majesty, I have valuable information on this prisoner," pants Beauregard. The queen raises her eyes. "Speak." "She's with me," says Beauregard, "and-" "That's a lie," Dairon spits out. "I've never seen her in my life." Don't you want to live, you foolish child? There is plenty more for you to accomplish with the queen's trust. "It's not." Beauregard scowls at her. "Fucking hell, Dairon, you can't keep dramatically saying don't die every time I leave and then fucking die." Dairon blinks. If she weren't so grievously injured, she's certain she'd have a rejoinder to Beauregard's preposterous reversal of those words. Beauregard turns to the queen, her face determined and her posture ready for battle. Ah. Perhaps Beauregard would have been served better by a different instructor, Dairon realizes, as she watches Beauregard begin her negotiation. Unlike Dairon herself, it is not the shadows Beauregard is meant for.

Last Two Canons You Consumed (CritRole + Homestuck)

cobaltInvestigator began pestering fieryGhast.

CI: dude CI: what the fuck CI: caleb can you see this shit CI: did this weird scrying mirror show me some other dude's fire-themed name CI: not complaining about mine though it's pretty solid FG: Beauregard. FG: Yes, this is Caleb. FG: I was momentarily distracted. CI: by what FG: We appear to have been separated into different locations, with these odd scrying mirrors allowing us to communicate to each other, solely via written text and not sound. Quite the distraction, no? FG: Also, I can't make Frumpkin appear. CI: shit CI: any of your other magic shit working CI: if my fists aren't magic anymore i'm gonna be pissed CI: what if there are ghosts here and i can't punch them FG: ...It seems none of my other magic is working. FG: We should find the others. CI: yeah CI: what do your surroundings look like CI: i think I'm in a volcano CI: bunch of lava flowing around CI: ha maybe this is traveler con FG: It appears I'm on a very sunny beach. CI: nicodranas FG: No. It looks nothing like it. CI: looks like i only got you and jester on this uh CI: contacts list CI: the scrying mirror is showing me FG: And I have you and Nott. CI: probably safe to assume we're all connected like that CI: guess we better talk to everyone and figure out what's going on CI: caleb FG: Yes? CI: something like this ever come up in all those books you've read FG: Not that I recall. CI: sure as fuck didn't come up in the cobalt soul either FG: This seems to be a running theme for our group CI: you don't say CI: gonna check in on jester cobaltInvestigator has ceased pestering fieryGhast

#critical role #cr ficlets #beauregard #dairon #caleb widogast #i am like halfway through c2e84 and probably gonna free trial it up to watch e85 so i don't ruin this streak... #it's feast or famine here that's how it is #beau and jester #beau and caleb #beaujester

[bechloeislegit]

A to Z BeChloe

L is for LYING

Prompt: Beca's family is rich but she does not want the Bellas to know. They find out and are upset at first because she lied to them.

"I can't believe an anonymous donor gave us a bus," Aubrey said excitedly. "It would have taken us months to even come up with the down payment."

"It's a miracle," Chloe added. "Now we can we put our efforts into getting money for our hotel expenses when we're on the road."

The rest of the Bellas were in awe as they checked out the shuttle-type bus that was parked in front of the Auditorium.

"Look," Jessica said. "It has the Bellas 'B' on the hood."

"So, this thing just showed up here?," Beca asked checking out the bus.

"Yep," Chloe said. "Aubrey and I were getting the Auditorium set up when this guy comes in asking for us."

"He told us he had a delivery but it was too big to bring in and we would have to come out here to get it," Aubrey continued.

"Brey and I came out and were floored when we saw the bus," Chloe said. "He handed us the title, the keys, and a card."

"The card just explained that our benefactor heard we needed a bus and wanted to help us out," Aubrey said.

"That's it?," Beca asked sounding skeptical. "We don't have to do anything to keep it?"

"We have to maintain it, of course," Chloe said. "Pay for gas. Get insurance. Keep up proper maintenance. That sort of thing."

"Can we go for a ride?," Ashley asked excitedly.

"We can after practice," Aubrey said. "We'll drive everyone back to their dorms."

"Cool," Ashley said and the rest of the girls agreed.

~lLl~ ~lLl~ ~lLl~

After practice, the Bellas went out to the bus to be taken back to their dorms. Chloe was by the door and turned to see if Beca was joining them. She saw Beca on her phone and called out to her.

"Hey, Becs? You coming?"

Beca said something into the phone and looked at Chloe. "I'm going to walk. I'm talking to my mom about some family stuff."

"Oh, okay," Chloe said. "Want to meet at the diner for dinner later?"

"Sure," Beca said. "Six o'clock?"

Chloe nodded and got on the bus. She sat in a window seat and couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that Beca wasn't sitting next to her. She glanced out the window and saw Beca talking animatedly. Beca looked up and gave her a small smile as they drove off.

"Mom, you're not listening to me," Beca said into the phone. "I can't just pick up and leave for days at a time without any explanation."

"This is important, Rebecca." Beca cringed every time her mother used her given name. "Your grandparents were admired and loved by everyone in the community. This banquet is to honor them and as the only family left, we must represent them."

"Why can't you just do it?"

"Come on, Rebecca. You enjoy the spoils of their hard work, the least you could do is show up to honor them once in a while. And, they want us both to give a speech."

Beca sighed. "Fine. Can you have the jet pick me up late on Friday? Not before eight. I have practice from 3:00 to 6:00 and I'll need time to get to the airport. And I need to be back here early on Sunday for a mandatory Bellas brunch."

"I'll text you the details once everything is confirmed."

"Fine," Beca said. "I'll see you Friday night."

"I'll see you on Friday," Beca's mom said. "Oh, and Beca?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Beca chuckled and smiled. "I love you, too."

Beca hung up and ran a hand through her hair. "I hate making speeches." She let out a heavy sigh and walked to her dorm.

~lLl~ ~lLl~ ~lLl~

Beca sat nervously waiting for Chloe at the diner. She smiled when she saw Chloe walk in. Beca thought that Chloe was one of the prettiest girls she's ever seen and had quite the crush on her. She had also become fast friends in no time at all.

Beca watched as Chloe made her way over to the booth.

"Hey," Chloe said and she hugged Beca. "Sorry, I'm late. Brey was being Brey and I had to sit through an hour of her ranting about how bad practice went."

"I didn't think it was so bad," Beca said.

"It wasn't," Chloe said. "She just needed something to rant about because of her anxiety over her classes. She got a B on a paper and her dad's been riding her to 'do better.' The girl gets As in everything and he's giving her a hard time over one B on one paper."

"That's tough," Beca said and chewed her lip nervously.

"What's up with you? Why do you look so nervous?"

"I don't want to add to Aubrey's anxiety, but I need to miss practice on Saturday," Beca said. "It's a family thing and I have to fly home to New York for the weekend."

"I'm sure that will be fine," Chloe said. "Do you want me to tell her?"

"No," Beca said. "I'll tell her at practice tomorrow. Hopefully, she'll be okay with it. I made sure that I will only miss Saturday's practice. I'll be back in time for the brunch on Sunday."

"I'm glad," Chloe said with a bright smile. "I would miss you too much if you weren't there for that."

Beca blushed and was saved from having to respond by the waitress coming to take their orders.

~lLl~ ~lLl~ ~lLl~

Aubrey wasn't thrilled at the idea of Beca missing a Saturday practice. Chloe stepped in and explained how Beca hasn't missed any practices and it was a family obligation; something Aubrey should understand. After that, Aubrey reluctantly gave Beca the okay on the condition that she make it to the Sunday brunch.

Beca fulfilled her family obligation and was sitting on the family jet waiting to fly back to Atlanta. There was a storm over New York so their departure was delayed. Beca had texted Aubrey and Chloe to let them know that the weather caused a delay. Chloe didn't respond but Aubrey did. Beca furrowed her brow when she read the text.

APosen: Brunch was canceled. There is a mandatory Bellas meeting at my apartment. Come straight here.

Beca got a car and made it to Aubrey and Chloe's apartment around Noon. She knocked. Chloe answered the door and left it open for Beca to enter while she walked over to sit next to Aubrey.

"Don't just stand there, Mitchell," Aubrey said. "Come in and have a seat."

Beca entered and closed the door. As she turned she saw all the girls looking at her.

"What's up?," Beca asked as she sat in the only available chair.

"Why don't you tell us, Beca Mitchell," Aubrey said emphasizing her name.

Beca furrowed her brow. She became anxious and fidgety.

"Or should we call you Rebeca Benchfield?," Aubrey asked her voice tight.

Beca's eyes widened and flew to look at Aubrey only to be met with a glare from the blonde Captain.

"That's not my name," Beca replied.

"Don't lie to us anymore, Beca," Fat Amy said. "We saw the video."

"What video?"

CR opened her laptop and set it on the coffee table so it was facing Beca. She hit play and Beca's speech that she made at the banquet for her grandparents the night before started playing.

"Fuck," Beca muttered and ran a hand through her hair.

"Care to explain?," Aubrey asked.

"Explain what?" Beca was starting to get angry.

"Explain why you've been lying to us for months now," Aubrey said.

"I haven't been lying," Beca said standing and looking around the room. She could feel a pain in her chest when Chloe wouldn't look at her. "I didn't lie to you." She said this softly as she continued to look at Chloe, wishing for her to look up at her.

Chloe had her eyes fixed to the floor.

Beca shook her head and could feel the tears stinging her eyes. "What difference does it make what my name is? I was born Rebeca Benchfield Mitchell. My mother and father always called me Beca. So, I did not lie about my name because it is Beca Mitchell."

"That's just semantics," Aubrey said.

Beca looked around the room and saw eight faces looking back at her. Each one seemingly angrier than the one before. Chloe still had not looked at her.

"Why are you so angry at me?"

"Because you lied to us," Aubrey said and stood to face Beca. "You've been lying to us."

"I. Did. Not. Lie," Beca said through clenched teeth.

"Again, it's semantics," Aubrey said. "Omitting the truth is the same as lying."

"The fact that I am part of the Benchfield family does not change who I am," Beca said. "I didn't tell you who I was for this very reason. Whenever people find out who I am, they change the way they treat me. I never knew who my real friends were. I guess I still don't."

Beca walked to the apartment door and was reaching for the door when Chloe finally spoke up.

"You're our anonymous donor," Chloe stated. "You're the reason we have the bus."

Beca looked back over her shoulder to see Chloe looking at her.

"It's called an anonymous donation for a reason," Beca said and walked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

"Why is she mad at us?," Fat Amy asked. "She's the one who's been lying about who she really is."

"Has she?," Stacie asked. "Her name does not make her who she is. She has done nothing but show how much she cares about all of us." Stacie looked around at each of the girls. "Jessica, when you found out your dog died, who sat and held your hand while you cried? And, CR? Remember when you lost all of your dining points in that poker game? Who always seemed to have extra food to share?"

The girls looked down somewhat ashamed.

"And, Aubrey," Stacie said looking at the blonde. "How long would it have taken us to get a bus?" Aubrey looked at Stacie but did not respond. "She did all that without asking for anything in return. She did all that because she considers us her friends. Does it really matter who she's related to?"

"Stacie's right," Chloe said. "Beca has always shown herself to be Beca Mitchell, a sister Bella. The fact that she comes from money does not change who she is. We're supposed to be her friends. People she can count on to be there for her, just like she's been there for us. I think we owe her an apology for ambushing her and ganging up on her."

Chloe went to the door and grabbed her keys. "I'm going to go find her."

"I'll go with you," Stacie said.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment and stood to leave with them.

"We should organize how we search," Aubrey said getting everyone's attention. "Chloe, you know her best. Where do you think she would have gone?"

"I have an idea of where she might be, but I'll have to go alone," Chloe said. "The rest of you split up and check her dorm and the radio station. Those are the only other places she might go."

"Okay," Aubrey said. "If you find her, text everyone and we'll regroup back here."

Chloe left while the others formed two groups and went in search of Beca. Chloe hurried to what Beca called her secret place. She showed it to Chloe once and told her how she liked it there because she could go there and be alone to think.

Chloe cleared the last bush and spotted Beca sitting with her knees up and her arms wrapped loosely around them. She was staring across the lake giving no indication she had heard Chloe. Or so Chloe thought.

"I figured you'd find me," Beca said startling Chloe. Beca hadn't even looked up.

"Lucky guess," Chloe said as she made her way to Beca.

"Did you come to call me a liar some more?"

"No." Chloe sat next to Beca and put her head on Beca's shoulder. "I came to apologize. The rest of the girls are out looking for you so they can apologize, too."

"I was going to come back," Beca said. "I just needed a little time to myself."

Beca turned so she was now facing Chloe. She picked at the knee of her jeans. "I didn't have any real friends growing up. And the ones who I thought were my friends, only wanted to either have me spend my family's money on them or just wanted to brag that they were friends with a Benchfield. That's why I didn't tell any of you who my family was. If you were really my friends it wouldn't matter."

"I admit I was with the other girls in believing that you lied to us," Chloe said. When Beca looked as if she was going to say something, Chloe raised her head, stopping Beca from speaking. "But it didn't last long. You are Beca Mitchell and that's all I need to know. In all honesty, when Amy first showed us the video of your speech, we all jumped to the same conclusion. I'm just as guilty as the rest of them. I am so, so sorry for doubting you."

"I haven't lied to you, Chloe," Beca said. "About anything. I want you to know that."

"I know," Chloe said. She reached over and took Beca's hand and intertwined their fingers. She looked at Beca. "So, your family bought the Bellas a bus. Thank you for that."

"In all honesty," Beca said and looked away from Chloe for a moment. She looked back at Chloe and said, "I used my own money to buy the bus for the Bellas."

"You did? But, how?"

"I called my financial advisor and my lawyer and had them work it all out," Beca said. "I told them what I wanted and they had it painted with the Bellas logo on it and had it delivered. All I did was pay for it."

"You have a financial advisor and a lawyer. How rich are you?" Chloe chuckled to show Beca she wasn't expecting an answer.

Beca chuckled and said, "Very."

Beca looked down at the hand that Chloe was holding and gave her a small smile.

"My grandparents died when I was fifteen. They left me a trust fund that my mother was the executor of. It's for a lot of money. A LOT of money. The trust was set up so that I would receive the money in three stages and each stage had a condition I had to meet before I got any money. In the first stage, I would receive one-third of the trust when I turned eighteen, BUT I had to be enrolled in college in order to get it. I was floored when I checked my bank account the week after my birthday. I'm not gonna lie, the amount shocked me. For the second stage, I would receive half of the remainder when I turned twenty-one or graduated from college; whichever came later. It was my grandparents' way of making sure I actually went to college for the full four years. The last stage is that I would receive the remaining money when I turned thirty or had my first child. Whichever came first. And, again, in all honesty, I could live my entire life on just the interest alone on what I got when I turned eighteen. I also own like six or seven homes."

"Wow!" Chloe was stunned. "Sounds like your grandparents were pretty smart when it came to their money."

"Yeah," Beca said. "I honestly didn't want any parts of the money. My mom is their only child so the money should have gone to her. But, she told them she had her own wealth and suggested that since I was her sole heir that they should leave it to me. It was going to filter down to me anyway."

Beca and Chloe sat quietly for a few minutes, their hands still intertwined. Chloe cleared her throat.

"I was going to ask you to take a walk after brunch today," Chloe said. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"It feels weird to say anything now," Chloe said, playing with Beca's fingers. "The timing is just shitty is all."

"Well, there was something I've been wanting to ask you," Beca said. "You're the first real friend I've had and I don't want to mess that up."

"Becs," Chloe said. "Nothing you can say will change our friendship. I can promise you that."

"You don't know what I was going to ask," Beca said.

"It doesn't matter," Chloe said emphatically. "Nothing will change our friendship. Nothing."

Before Beca could speak again, Chloe's phone pinged with a new text. She checked her phone.

"That was Stacie checking to see if I found you," Chloe said. "We're going to regroup back at the apartment. The girls do want to apologize to you. Will you come back with me?"

"Sure," Beca said and stood. She held out her hand to help Chloe up.

"Can we finish this later?," Chloe asked.

"Oh, um, yeah, sure," Beca said. "That will be fine."

Chloe took Beca's hand and held it all the way back to the apartment. When they walked in everyone looked at them. Beca shuffled her feet and looked down at the ground.

"I'm glad you're back, Beca," Aubrey said breaking the silence. "We all want to apologize for our behavior earlier. I am truly sorry for ambushing you over that video. I, we all, felt a bit betrayed because we thought you were lying to us."

"I don't know how many times I can say this," Beca said. "I didn't lie. My last name is Mitchell because that's my father's name. When my parents divorced my mother got sole custody of me. My grandparents wanted my mom to change my name to Benchfield but she refused. She knew from her own experience what having the Benchfield name was like."

"I'm sorry, Beca," Stacie said. "I never thought you were lying to us and I told them that."

"Stacie actually stood up for you after you left," Chloe said.

"So did Chloe," Stacie said.

"Look Miss Moneybags," Amy said. "I want to know why you didn't just tell us who your family was. Don't you trust us?"

"No," Beca said honestly. "Well, I didn't but I do now. That's why it hurt so much that you kept calling me a liar. Everyone treats me differently when they find out who I am and who my grandparents were. I wanted to know what it was like to have friends where I didn't have to wonder if they were my friends because of me or because of my money."

"You don't have to worry about us, Beca," Aubrey said with a smile. "The Bellas are a family. I promise not to treat you any differently than I have been."

"I, uh, might have an issue with that," Beca said and the girls laughed.

Chloe slapped her arm. "What? She's been riding my ass at every practice. I wouldn't mind if she treated me differently. I'm just sayin'."

"I'll try," Aubrey said with a small laugh. "But, I assure you the way I treat you won't have anything to do with how much money you have."

"How much money do you have?," Fat Amy asked.

"AMY!" Several voices called out.

"You don't just ask someone that," CR said.

"Why not?," Fat Amy said. "I want to know."

"It's okay, guys," Beca said. "You could probably google it and find out. Because of my grandparents, my personal worth is in the, uh, billions of dollars."

"BILLIONS!" Jessica squeaked out and sat with her mouth hanging open.

"With a B?," Ashley asked.

"Um, yeah," Beca said. "They also left me several homes around the world. I told my mom she could have whichever ones she wanted and to sell all but the ones in New York and L.A. I'll never use the others. Oh, and we have a family jet. Well, technically it belongs to me but my mother uses it more often than I do."

The entire room stared at Beca. Not a peep from any of them.

"Um, do you have any questions?"

"Can you adopt me?" This of, course, coming from Amy.

Beca laughed and said, "I feel like I already have."

"Beca," Chloe said. "Thanks for telling us everything. And, I'm sorry we ambushed you earlier."

"Yeah, Beca," CR said. "We're really sorry about that."

"Yeah," Jessica said and then laughed. "We didn't even bring up Amy's theory on why you wouldn't tell us who you were."

"I almost forgot about that," Ashley said. "She thought you were in the witness protection program."

"What?" Beca looked at Amy and shook her head. "Why would you think that? I gave a speech that was covered by the press. That would be a stupid thing to do if I was supposed to be hiding out."

"Don't worry, Beca," Denise said. "None of us believed it."

"Why not?," Fat Amy said. "It makes perfect sense to me"

"Can we be done with me?," Beca asked. "And can you all promise that you won't tell anyone about my family? I just want to be Beca Mitchell, a member of the Barden Bellas, and forget about everything else."

"We can do that," Aubrey said and everyone nodded in agreement. "Let's call it a day, shall we?"

The girls nod their heads and get up to leave. Chloe grabs Beca's arm as she turns to go.

"Can you stay for a bit, Becs?"

"Sure."

The girls leave and Aubrey excuses herself to go to her room. Beca and Chloe sit on the sofa and face each other.

"So, you said you had something to ask me," Chloe said with a smile.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Beca said and blushed. "I was wondering if, maybe, you would want to go out. With me. Sometime?"

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to go out. With you. Sometime," Chloe said and smiled. "On a date."

"Really?," Beca asked. "I mean, great. Um, are you free Saturday?"

"I'm free," Chloe said.

"Then it's a date," Beca said with a big smile.

Chloe pulled her into a hug. Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe and held her close for a minute or so. Beca was the first to pull back from the hug. Their faces were very close and Beca smiled at Chloe.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," Chloe said. "We canceled the brunch and then we had the meeting."

"Would you want to get a late lunch with me?"

"I would," Chloe said. "But, I promised Brey we'd get something after we were done with the Bellas meeting."

"She can come, too," Beca said. "This isn't a date. I'm saving our first for Saturday where I can sweep you off your feet."

"I think you already have," Chloe said and leaned in and kissed Beca.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

[wauta]

Memorial Photobook Interview - Yuta

Profile: Yuta ユウタ

Birth/1995.10.26

Nation/Japan

Q. Favorite color?

Black

Q. Favorite season?

Summer! because I like mountains and sea, I like summer where I can take walk and play in the sea. Since I was a kid, every year I definitely went playing in the sea.

Q. Favorite foods?

Meat, fish, I like everything, but my favorite as expected is takoyaki. because I'm from Osaka, I like okonomiyaki and sauce and I eat it often. In addition, I also take protein well to build my body.

Q. Foods you don't like?

Shiitake mushroom— ah, I also don't like bell pepper (laugh)

Q. Favorite snacks?

In the past, I like potato chips and snacks, but recently I like chocolate and sweets. And it's been awhile I ate 'Shiroi Koibito’, it's so delicious~! (p.s: shiroi koibito is a European-style cookie which is manufactured and sold in Japan)

Q. Favorite sports?

Soccer. But I like sport in general, I also like running! I learned soccer from kindergarten until 3rd grade in middle school so I think it’s my special skill… today I regretted not being able to score (in the game)

Q. Favorite numbers?

10. It’s because soccer’s ace number is 10!

Q. Favorite fragrance?

I like fresh aroma of sweet and sour citrus fruits, like lemon.

Q. What kind of fashion that you like?

There are many monotone fashion like black boots x black pants. I also like wearing silver accessories such as necklaces, rings, and piercings.

Q. Express your personality in a word?

Umm… I can’t express it in a word (laugh). Although I have different sides, I still don’t understand myself yet… I’m still searching for it so I’m not gonna say that I’m like this.

Q. This is the only thing I can’t be defeated! What can you brag about?

My feelings for music. For me, music is a thing where I can find different sides of me. Because NCT 127’s concept is changed depending on the music, I can meet new sides of me, “I also had this side in myself.” Music is like the general feeling of life.

Q. Tell us your weak points!

Actually I cry pretty soon… (laugh). I like anime so I watch it often, but when I feel moved by a scenes, I empathy with it and I cried right away.

Q. Your hobby?

Recently, listening to music and watching movies. I always listen to music in my free time at work. I check out popular songs as well as wide range of genres like ballad, rock, hip-hop, R&B. Johnny and Mark are often listening to Western music and recommended it to me. I also exchanging informations with members!

Q. What you usually do that you feel the happiest?

I felt this last time when I went on Kyoto trip with my family. There was a restaurant where I can eat nagashi soumen (flowing noodles), it was fun! Then all members make one thing, and they feel happy as they get closer to completion. It’s the most fun when it’s starting to take shape!

Q. Favorite place to relax?

I think it’s dorm. Now I’m in the same room with Taeil hyung and Winwin. I’m spending time with interfering Winwin (laugh). I have a lot of time with the members even in the dorm. By the way in our dorm, it’s a rule that we have to clean the room, wash the dishes, and take out the garbage in pairs once a week (laugh).

Q. Things you must do before sleep?

Because I’m sensitive to sound, before sleep, I definitely wear eye mask and I’m sleeping listening to classical music. Then I can sleep while being relax.

Q. Things you must do after wake up in the morning?

Recently, I drink green juice! Because I don’t really like vegetables that I think I have to take care of my health, so I try to drink it every day.　It’s easy to drink because it’s powder!

Q. Is there any surprising things when you come back to Japan?

I thought it would be nice to have a lot of toilets (laugh). In Korea too of course there’s toilet, but there’s none in convenience store. Then, because I like coffee, when I come back to Japan, it took me awhile to find coffee shop. There’s so many cafes in Korea.

Q. New Korean word that you learned recently?

Korean… I wonder if there’s any? I never learned this, but there are some things that are convenient to remember! The first things I learned when I come to Korea were “bap juseyo (please give me some foods)” and “hwajangshil odieyo? (where’s the toilet)”. I think if you remember these two things, they’ll be useful in Korea (laugh).

Q. Do you look like your father? Or mother?

My face probably looks like my mother. I think my personality is like my father!? I guess it’s the sense of responsibility.... Ah I said it myself (laugh). I think rather than saying similar it would be better if I could become such a person. Because I respect my father.

Q. A word that you would be glad if a girl told you?

“You’re manly”

Q. Foods you want girls to cook for you?

I want them to make lunch box. I’d be glad if they make it when we go on picnic together. The side dish is octopus wiener!!

Q. Girl’s gesture or behavior that make your heart skipped a beat?

It’s cliche but... behavior of tying up hair makes my heart thump. Then, I like people with good voice because I like to listen to people’s voice.

Q. How do you get over when you feel down?

There are a lot of worries, aren’t there? When I told myself If I solve this trouble I would be bigger, I can’t sleep at night thoroughly. When I said it’s okay to pass this, I will forget other things.

Q. A song you will recommend to people who haven’t listened to NCT 127?

I like all the Japanese songs, but the best recommendation is Cherry Bomb. I think it would be nice if you see it with the performance. From the last point of falling down to the point where the members become V-shape with the legs spread, I would like you to pay attention to it!

cr pic: bung_gae21

#nct #nct 127 #yuta #nakamoto yuta #memorial photobook #interview #eng trans