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rebelliouslala · 4 years

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Crossing Love

A Post Apocalyptic Romance kind of a psychological thriller

(yuta x reader, jungwoo x reader, trauma is mentioned, violence, language, suggestive themes; overall angst but sprinkles of fluff, 11.6k words)

Folie à deux- A rare paranoia or delusion that is shared between close friends or family members, which often consist of hallucinations

enjoy!

You wake up slowly, to the stir and song of morning birds. No one knew if they were real. And you weren’t willing to take it on. “Good morning; ladies.” The woman’s voice is calm, yet monotone. This voice is only heard once a year, and you already knew what today was. “Good morning.” You groan, and so do the others. “Please go to your closets and change, you have 20 minutes, and then it will be time for the Crossing.” You eye the others as they get up, and so do you, hearing other languages recite the good morning, moving towards the small metal handle behind it. Opening it with a turn, sending chills down your body from the cold air hitting your skin. An outfit is folded on a chair, a pretty and flowing knee length black skirt, white shirt, underclothes your size hidden underneath the cloth. No metal, as always. You put it on, and once that is done, you sit on the now empty chair, looking at the mirror still. You allow the machines to up-do your hair, a nice and perfect French twist. You stand up and take a deep breath, but you can feel yourself shudder. It’s almost time.

No one knew exactly how this all started. The diseases wiped everyone out, is what you were taught. It could have been the fires though. The floods, caused by rumbling earthquakes. The abortions, and the laws holding everyone back. The wars ignited by madness. But it’s simple. Life was depleting. Soon it was only one country that could hold everyone, and still more refugees are flooding in. Here, in the Haven, you and a couple of hundred million women were safe. Compared to the actual number of refugees living in Haven, versus those that were in the same process as you were, you’re lucky if you make it this far. You didn’t know about the men. You weren’t allowed to because the Haven works simply. Only people who are younger than 40 can live in the System. When you are 10, around the time you get your period, you’re gifted red earrings. If not, you live freely with the others, in Liberation Town. If you had irregular periods or a non heterosexual preference, then you too. That is where those who cannot possess children live, freely as the name. Your best friend was sent there, because she was infertile. Often you get letters, saying she met a boy, and how it’s so much better than the System. That’s the nickname for what you live in, and it sort of was a system. You couldn’t remember the long name for it, but despite that, it’s no surprise, it‘s hell.

You’re knocked out of your thoughts as your friend hugs you, whispering, “Can you believe it?” Her dark skin, her natural beauty, you knew for a fact she would be chosen for the Crossing. “No,” you murmur, as she toys with your hair, “Come on Y/N, lighten up! We’ve been dreaming of this day!”

“I have, but it’s been 23 rejections, I don’t know.”

“I heard a rumor,” says another girl, her hair split into two long braids, “There’s a rare twin thing in the Boy’s System. They are crossing over nine girls.” Your friend tightens her grip on you as she smiles, “Can you believe it? You might have a chance.” Might, what a strong word.

The flood of white dressed girls, sparkling rubies in their ears in waves walk down towards the wall. The wall that separates the Systems, the Girl’s, and the Boy’s. As the wall split off, there laid the thriving and bubbling city of Liberation Town. The citizens of that wonderful town are in the high seats, cheering on family members, sisters, brothers, cousins, to be chosen. To be free in the town with them.

“Single file ladies. Single file, gents.”

You look at your side and see the men, white shirts, and black pants. The boys- or men for that matter, pass through the entrance of a 20 foot wall, covered and overgrown with vines; with age. You smile gently. Usually it’s your friends that spot it, but today you do. The System must’ve glitched, because hidden between thousands of black pants and matching shoes, was some sort of tight, shiny pair of black pants, colorful flannel pants, a pair of jeans and another boy wearing white shoes. “They didn’t,” your friend murmurs, giggling, “When will they fix that glitch?”

“This is the first time in four years,” you recall your 19th year, where the boys were late to the Crossing, because of a dress malfunction. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 93rd Crossing!” The Liberationists cheer, and you take a deep breath, deciding fuck it. You have less than 20 years in the system, might as well impress them. You stand up straighter, although you can’t compare to your friend’s height, as two women and two men, dressed in lab coats stand on the stage. “Good morning Haven, we have an important announcement before we select. 20 people in total this year will be chosen for the Crossing. It is a time of emergency.” There are quiet murmurs, except in the Systems. “As always, when we call your name, you will be paired with the opposite gender. But first, the men.” This is where the side conversation grew louder, before a male scientist clears his throat, “We will explain after, but will the brothers, Lee Taeyong, Mark and Donghyuck, please go on stage?” You see one of the boys with the glitched shoes walk to the stage, his brother following. They’re triplets. No wonder. They will pass on their unique genes so more people are born. Seven more men are called on stage. They stand next to them, seemingly to know each other and whisper to each other quietly. “These are the triplets, one of the few here in Haven that are all fertile.” Some people look at them, surprisingly, they all are muscular and undoubtedly attractive, their own gaze sending chills down your spine. Sometimes you wonder what the chefs served the men, versus what they served you. “Will the ladies, Katherine, Emma, Sylvia. . .”

You cross your fingers behind your back, before you hear your name. You’re chosen. The feeling of guilt, all years of regret is lifted off your shoulders. You’re going to be free from the System. Freedom to Liberation Town. Once everyone, including yourself, goes on the stage, you gulp. The men are intimidatingly tall, and their skin is a pretty tan, especially who you assume as the youngest of the triplets. So flawless, you divert your own eyes down as you stand next to them. “Katherine, you are paired with Taeil, and assigned to the house S-39. You may leave.” Awkwardly, the man with red hair takes Katherine’s arm. You try to count down from your peripheral vision, guessing who you would be paired with. You could fall in love with the man you’re paired with. But the boy with flannel pants whispers, and you hear his voice. It sounds so soft, so gentle. You wouldn’t be upset if you were paired with him. “Yuta, you are paired with Y/N, and assigned to H-55.” You look at the man with the glitched jeans, and he gives you a sweet and wide smile. The scientists whisper, but you are just thankful. This man is tall, lean and his smile brightened up not only the cloudy day of the Systems, but your life. With him, you’re free. Your own heart flutters as you walk to him, hearing your best friend, Clara yell at you.

“GO Y/N!“ She screams. Your cheeks heat up as you hold Yuta’s arm, passing by the flannel pants, before you feel his hand press against yours. You widen your eyes, but continue walking, taking what is given to you. If anyone saw that, you could’ve been questioned, sent away to be one of those women in lab coats. But nothing seems out of order. Because right now, the entrance to Liberation Town is what matters most. You’re smiling wide, the feeling of freedom and a house away with the Systems. That is what clouds and helps you smile wider than any other day in your life. All you needed to do was get pregnant. You hear Yuta whisper in your ear, his voice just as sweet as you imagined your dream Crossing, “Wow. . .” You smile at his accent, the hot breath against your ear, this affectionate touch making you shiver in happiness, “You’re beautiful~,” His accent echoes in your head, and you easily start to fall. This is it, happiness that you deserve. The only thing you can murmur out is a thank you, making him lean only closer. You can feel his lips, feel them smile at the curve of your ear and make you shiver as your stomach churns. His breath echoes in your ear, “Shall we do it tonight then?”

The streets are cleaner than you imagined, with people not wearing white or black skirts. Girls wear pants. Some boys are wearing short tops, which would’ve never been allowed in the Systems. Liberation Town is itself a new city, although it housed few millions, the noise and the streets are crowded. You felt a part of society, of a group. Like the namesake, you feel free. You have no alarm, no schedule to work out, you just need to get pregnant. You felt at ease as people smile at you, whispering, “It’s a Ruby girl,”

“A black skirt.”

“She’s a Crossing, new?”

“Probably, look at the eyes.”

“She’s so lucky.”

“Thank Haven.”

The nicknames never bothered you, so you breathe in the air, the smells and mixtures of everything, bread, meat, flowers, the fabric, sauces of international foods, a soft plastic smell as you pass by a salon. The salon is small, a nice home like feeling that you’re almost compelled to go in, but you have so much more time to look around. But you can come back later. You bend down to inspect the fresh fruit a woman sells. “Hey no—!” She widens her eyes at you, and looks at your earrings. “O-Oh, I’m sorry. Take some!”

“I have no way to pay.” You say. “Take it. You will get pregnant soon, and you need the food.”

“Oh. . .Thank you,” You turn, feeling a man behind you, and you realize you haven't yet read the paper. It’s not Yuta behind you; To say the least, you’re relieved.

*Earlier*

“Oh, b-but!” You lied, turning to him, holding his hand. “I-In the Girl’s System. . .w-we uh- we’re taught to serve our men.” Your smile faltered until he spoke gently. “Y/N,” Yuta’s hand moved from your cheek, to your shoulder, and he sighed, pushing his hair back. You gulped, “I-It’s fine, I mean, it’s bound to happen, I just, want time.” You slowly smiled and leaned up, “Besides, I don’t even know if I’ll be going on my period yet. We have to do it correctly, right?” To be truthful, you know you wanted to, do whatever you must. But that suddenly seemed sudden. The fact that Yuta had even asked made your throat tighten, made you feel uneasy. Yuta chuckled and leaned down now, getting closer, as he whispered, “Yes darling, we can do it when you get back home. We can talk, I would love to get to know you more. After all, what if it’s our children that save the world?” His smirk made you clear your throat and he leaned down, kissing your cheek softly. “Did you know you're so cute whenever you’re flustered, darling? I’ll see you home, but can you get home before dark?” He said gently, some worry sewn in his voice. “Of course.” You answered, kissing his jawline gently. It felt a little weird, a little wrong but you had to be at least somewhat comfortable. Or show you are.

“My name is Kim Jungwoo. :p I think you are really pretty. . .meet me in the market if you think I’m cute too :) hehe We can talk, maybe even know more about each other? If not, I hope you have a nice time in Liberation with your Crossing.”

Kim Jungwoo is surprisingly tall, with dark but fluffy brown hair. He smiles wide, his eyes a pretty chocolate brown, wearing the mismatched flannel pants. He had given you the note. He clears his throat. “Hi.”

“Hello,” you say gently. “What’s your name?” He crunches on an apple, as you chew on a peach, smiling. This one was extremely bitter. But you convince yourself that it is manufactured, and that is why it had tasted so odd. “I’m Y/N, you’re Jungwoo?”

“How could you tell?” He teases, his nose scrunching up, before he clears his throat. “Who were you paired up with?”

“Some girl, Maia.”

“Ah,” you finish your peach quickly, wiping the juices on the back of your hand before you realize. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be messy—,” Jungwoo laughs, and eats his apple as fast as you, little bits of apple on his cheek. You lean over and wipe it off, laughing softly, “How cute. . .” You smile, not noticing the blush Jungwoo has on his cheeks as he looks down. “So, do you like Yuta?” You shrug, and you remember his lips on your cheek, which heat up at the thought. “Y-Yeah, I mean, I’m a little hesitant. I’ve always wanted this; to be chosen, but I’m scared.” Taking a deep breath, you whisper, “I don’t know how to feel.” Jungwoo shrugs. “I think we all need time. I mean, that’s what my friend said. Taeil says he’s going to wait a week, take her on dates and then ask her, politely.” He sits up and puts on a goofy smile, “That’s what I would do if you were my Crossing. Then be all like,” Jungwoo sits up, deepening his voice, “Aye~, baby~, let’s get it on~!” You both laugh, and when you snort Jungwoo laughs even louder. Your eyes closed, for a good minute you continue to laugh until your ribs hurt. By the time you both can finally catch your breath, you notice you both are holding hands.

Jungwoo sighs, his smile all over his face. “Well, it’s almost night. I promised to get Maia apples and bananas, and hey. Don’t worry. Yuta is pretty nice. I mean he always seemed to be kinda quiet. You know, I don't know how he is sexually.” You pretend to gag, giggling. You and he get some more peaches, some more fruit. “Do we take it?” You mutter to Jungwoo. “Honestly I don’t really know.” He whispers back. “You both are Crossings, huh?” The lady says, and you and he both nod. “You look cute together, I know your children will prosper. Currency looks like this,” she holds out clothing, a fabric. Some fruit. “Oh! I forgot there’s a trading system in Liberation.” You remember your studies in the Systems. Jungwoo eyes you, but he looks away without your notice. “Much better than the years before, using paper currency.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we didn’t go to our house yet to get trading items.” Jungwoo pouts. “We call ‘em Croppers. But this is your first time, so I understand. Have a nice day,”

“Thank you!” You smile, as she bags your fruit, and waves. You walk back to your neighborhood, and Jungwoo looks at you, “Did you like the System?”

“I mean. . .I’m indifferent. I feel like Haven didn’t have to do this whole fertile thing. Makes it seem weird.” You say, freely for the first time. You never could say this in the System. “I think it’s cute. I mean, I get to meet a girl instead of a boy. I can talk to you too.”

“Why did you want to talk to me, and not your Crossing?” You look up finally. Jungwoo sways the bag as he shrugs, “I’m already going to be home and getting to know her for the rest of my life. It’s good to have a friend that isn’t a guy,” He smiles gently and so do you. “Plus I have to wait for the ovulation dates to be sent out, then you know.” He sighs rather loudly, and you clear your throat. In the Girl’s System, you were taught that this is normal. This is fine. It’s for the greater good of people. As a child, before you knew about sex, about the sins of the past world, murder, disaster; you dreamt. You had dreamt for years that you and your Crossing ran. That’s the one thing you wanted. The person you will spend the rest of your life with in the river, chasing each other forever, giggling and splashing, not caring about the Haven’s responsibly they order you both. Because that didn’t matter, what mattered is that you both love each other. There’s a chance you fall for your Crossing. To get pregnant and have a happy life. But that’s only a chance.

You see your house, H-55. The H home is tall, looking like a tower. One from the “fairy tale” books that the older System women read to you. On the 5th floor you see the lights in every window. Yuta must be decorating the apartment. “Well, this is my house. I hope we can see each other more, Jungwoo.” You turn, smiling before he hugs you tightly, and you’re engulfed by the scent of sweet bread, making you hold him closer so you can smell it more. You can’t put your finger on it, but you feel yourself melt right into his arms, and you don’t want to go . “Of course, I live in D-09. Just come by.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you another time. I hope everything goes well with Maia.”

“And I hope everything goes well with Yuta.” Jungwoo strokes his imaginary beard with a Yuta impression, “Baby~,” After your and his giggle, you wave, and enter. The apartments have a spiral up staircase, at which you climb up, landing at a floor every 30 steps or so. You inhale deeply, and exhale as you make it up to the fifth floor. You should’ve remembered how much you hated climbing up stairs. Leaning on a door, you knock, looking at the fruits, and smiling. “I’m home!” You say excitedly. Now that you actually talked to a System Boy, it would be easier to get to know Yuta, you can get to know him more. Before your due date assigned by Essential.

“Finally,” Yuta’s voice sounds softer, and more seductive even, and the door unlocks and opens. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, baby.” You’re met with dark eyes, piercing into you. The feeling below your stomach, you couldn’t control as you gulped. His bottom lip is bitten by his top lip, his head turned to the side to show his sharp jawline. His face is clear, flawless. Nothing splotched. He had obviously been waiting. You can smell the roses he laid out, and the way he looks means he’s ready. He won’t let anything stop him, as his eyes travel up and down your body.

“Oh my god.” The man quickly covers his detailed stomach, the face of lust now gone as his ears turn pink. “I-I’m so sorry- I thought—,” You cover your eyes, a blush on your own cheeks. “T-This isn’t H-55, is it?”

“58. It’s 3 doors to your left.”

“Yes, I’m so sorry.” You quickly go to the door, knocking on it until Yuta opens the door, 58’s door closing. You hug him tightly, trying to get the image of him out. Sure you didn’t confirm your feelings, but you couldn't really go anywhere. Especially if Maia is with Jungwoo. “Whoa! Darling, what’s wrong?” Yuta wraps his arms around you, pouting. “I almost walked into a horny man’s room.” you grumble into his shirt. After a small moment of hesitation, you pull away. It seemed a little inappropriate; until Yuta gently pets your hair, and immediately you feel yourself freeze. You lay on his chest as the door closes behind you. You hear his heartbeat, a sort of soothing lullaby, “I’m sorry that happened, sit down. I was thinking we could talk, I would love to know everything about you.” You smile and look up, to meet his wide smile, “Uh, yeah. we can do ice breakers!”

Yuta laughs and sits down on a couch, a few boxes scattered on the ground, “Okay, we can choose furniture.” Yuta picks up the small boxes. “We see the hologram of the furniture and then we say if it stays or not.”

“Sounds like something a couple does.”

“Well, are we not?” Yuta pouts. You only smile and hold his face, “Well, by Haven yes.” He holds your hand, his hand larger. “I mean, this could help us. You’re really pretty, and if we’re assigned together we might as well try to make the best of it. What can go wrong?” You gulp. Well a lot. You could be depressed if this relationship didn’t work out. You could be anxious like this. You could lose the baby because of stress. Then it’s to the Essential District. Yuta walks over to you, and sighs. He holds your hands as you think it through, “I understand it’s weird. Honestly I’m just telling myself this to make it less weird. But,” he rubs the back of your hand, “Can’t it be worse? We can just be friends, get that. . .thing over, and we can just live with each other?” You slowly nod. That was a good idea, and you can handle being friends. Especially with a boy like this. Yuta smiles. “Besides, maybe once I kiss you we can see if we do have feelings.” You push him off, rolling your eyes. As much as you wanted to take things slow, you kind of did like his jokes.

The window from your apartment displays the night sky like a painting. Dotted with white stars, the moon looks large, closer to the Earth than from your little hole in the wall in the System. For the past couple of hours you and Yuta decided on how to make the apartment, he took the living room, and you took the bedroom. His favorite color, you learn, is yellow. He decorates the wall as just that, dropping a tech oil to stain the living room walls. The walls make it calming, as he makes the green couches go near the walls, humming to himself. “Can we get a dog?” He suddenly begs, as you push furniture in the bedroom, since he claimed the living room to sleep in. You took that answer with relief, especially since your agreement. At least he understood consent. “What?” You say quietly. You knew what they were, thanking quietly to the veteran women in the System who taught you animals and fairy tales- how to daydream even. “I’ve always wanted one,” Yuta gushes. “When my family and I came here from Osaka, we had one. Then we moved here during the Dobutsu Storm, and I was separated . . .” His voice trails off, his voice growing darker with memory. You look up, moving your stray hairs back and frowning. Was that why he’s so excited to be chosen? “What happened to your parents?”

“I don’t know. All I know was that I was taken in by Sicheng, he was born in Haven.” You walk over, and he can see you’re dressed in just sweatpants, and a loose shirt which hides his waist until you wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry that happened; tomorrow we can try to ask where they are.”

“Yeah.” Yuta says gently, freezing for a moment before embracing you. “My friend works in Essential, so we can find them. I promise.” Yuta smiles at you, and he leans down, giving a soft kiss against your head. You felt your heart pound faster. Was it weird? No, it’s simply just affection, something you haven’t felt in your entire life. You hold him closer and lay your head near his shoulder, closing your eyes. Sure, you weren’t sure, your own gut was twisting as you were this close, but you inhaled his scent. A calming, green tea smell overtakes your nose. For some reason, you recognize it instantly. It’s a specialty, and you always loved that ice cream. You smile gently. You both stay in the hug, letting silent exhales at different times. After what feels like a comforting hour, you finally say it. “I like the living room.”

“Thank you. Does that mean I can get the dog?”

“Yes. I’ve wanted one, and a cat.”

“No. Dog.” He pouts. You laugh at his look. The small sting of regret of what you felt for him earlier jabs at you, but you let it pass. “Okay okay, but we need Croppers.” He lets out a confused noise, making you giggle and only prove that you were wrong about him. You pull your head out of the hook of his shoulder. “They’re trading items.”

“Oh! Cool! Can we keep the green tea mochi?”

“AH HA! I knew I smelled that,” you point at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, of course I ate one.” You chuckle as you move to the bed, having already put away your new standard clothes, you grab a huge shirt and some shorts, letting down your hair and revealing its natural state. Yuta follows you, stretching and he sits on the bed as you enter the restroom. You change quickly before going out, realizing how skewed this whole setup is, and how love should’ve been made easier. At least in these terms. Yuta chuckles, “You look cute in my shirt.” You widen your eyes, realizing how your legs are exposed from the shorts and you try to explain, “S-Sorry, I thought it was supposed to be oversized, like those old fashion trends—,” He takes your chin gently, as you’re shaking your head, worried. “Shh. It’s fine darling. Good night, okay?” He leans in, pecking your forehead again, and this time you gulp. Not out of fear. Nothing like that really. Because this time you like it, and you knew you wanted more. Was this desire?

He barely steps a toe out of the threshold before you clear your throat. “Hey. . .let’s sleep together.” You suggest. You only read from hidden and tucked away romance novels in your System bunk, how to seduce. Close your eyes, a hint that you want them. That you need them. Maybe this wasn’t bad, after all, it’s just experimenting. You did have a duty with him. Yuta looks at your body, since your body is exposed, only in your underwear and bra.

“I-I. . .” He rubs the back of his neck, his face red. “I’m not ready, I think we should do it another time, but I’m,” you pause. Were you ready? You look at him again, “We can just kiss,” Yuta slowly walks to the bed, crawling on top of you. He grabs your thigh, tightly you can feel. Your breaths mix together as he hovers over you, whispering, “Are you sure you want this, darling?” You nod, and immediately he takes charge by kissing you. It’s rough; Nothing how he was when he was begging for the puppy. You can feel everything as he pulls away only to devour your lips again. Everything that you had missed in the system. The touch of Yuta, his hand on your thigh, pinching and stimulating you. The way his hand traced your body, a rough and calloused hand, you shiver, holding him closer.

For the first time, you felt something you never felt with anyone; hunger. The way he had touched you, you wanted him more than anything, more than air. His groans, curses under his breath and his wet kisses are the only sounds you fall asleep to, holding him close to your neck.

You wake up the next morning, half nude, your bra on the floor, and Yuta holding your hips. His lips are still on your neck. You giggle at the sensation, gently leaning down, and kissing his lips, holding his hand under the covers. You feel his breath on your lips, but he kisses back, a smile on his face, “Oh,” His voice is deeper than before, and you shiver even more. You assumed out of lust. “Hi darling,” you whisper. “Mm~, only I call you that~,” he stretches before putting his arms around you even tighter. “But it’s so fun.”

“I know darling.” He opens an eye and pecks your lips. He gets up, going to the restroom, as you sit up, getting his shirt back on, and you smile. It smells just like green tea. You look around, and quickly get on some clothes, yawning. From the dresser you pick out a huge flannel shirt, a sort of cartoon shirt, and some soft but tight pants. Yuta comes out, and he smiles. “You’re wearing my shirt, again.”

“What?!” You look down before Yuta holds your cheek. “It’s cute.” You blush as Yuta laughs, “So, shall we go to Essential district?”

“Yeah, I would love to meet your parents.”

“Can we get the dog too then?” his eyes brighten, and his smile is wide, almost like how it was when he was paired up with you. You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Yes, we can get the dog too,”

“Yes~!” Squishing his cheeks and pecking them. After getting ready, your hair is a mess from last night’s kissing session, you tidy it up into a high ponytail, smiling at Yuta’s outfit today. He wears a white shirt and a blue sort of rough blue jacket. You had to remember the word, jean. It’s something you once read in a magazine. He wears pants with the same material as the jacket, but it’s black. His hair is covering his forehead, and he looks adorable; that you lean up and kiss his forehead. “You look like one of those models in a magazine.” You compliment. “Oh. . .thank you.” His cheeks turn red as he grabs your arm, and you hold the Croppers close to your body, his hand on your waist. You open the door, taking your key, before you’re met in front of a man. This time he has a shirt, and innocence on his face. “Hi! S-Sorry. . .I shouldn’t have. . .scared you like that.”

“Taeyong?” Yuta asks. The man’s smile suddenly brightens the room as he gasps, “Yuta! You’re paired with her! Oh, I’m really sorry I did that yesterday.”

“This is the horny man you were talking about, Y/N? I mean you’re not lying,” teases Yuta as he kisses your hair, a sudden grip on you. “Well, I still apologize, so take this.” Taeyong gives you an apple, and a note. You quickly tuck away the note. You don’t really know why, but you were curious, and you couldn’t crush Yuta’s heart. You look at him as he waves, “Hope everything is well, glad I could - uh, meet my neighbors.” Taeyong goes back to his room, and you and Yuta walk downstairs. You both decide on what sort of breed, deciding on a large but fluffy Cockapoo. After a quick game of rock paper and scissors, you win to name the dog. “That's not fair!” He argues, holding the door for you, finally together you walk outside, met with a bright but cloudy day. The sun is hidden, but you and he both walk close, keeping each other warm. “The chances are equal, so I won fair and square, Yuta~,” you kiss his cheek, walking down the street. Some people whisper, the early morning buyers not believing their own eyes. Crossers at this hour? Shouldn’t they be home, doing their duty? Some nod and smile at you, a little girl even gasping at your earrings. Yuta asks for directions as you are distracted by some jewelry, leaning down to inspect a pretty green jewel before the apple and note falls out of your pocket. You turn, hoping Yuta doesn’t see before you take out the note.

“Hi Y/N! It’s Jungwoo again. . .I forgot one of my bros, Taeyong lives in the same building as you! I was hoping maybe tomorrow, or anytime you have time at least we can get some drinks? We can complain about our Crossing partners. There’s this amazing drink in Liberation I found on my way back home.

<3 Jungwoo :)”

You pout over the sweet message, hearing your own heartbeat. He’s so cute writing that, but you look around. How you wish you contact him that you’re busy, before you turn. “Yuta hyung!” a voice suddenly raises in pitch, obviously excited as he hugs his old buddy. “Oh, hey Jungwoo, what are you doing here? Oh, how’s Maia?”

“She’s very sweet, we uh,” You stand back up, walking over. “Jungwoo! Hi!” Jungwoo’s face lights up, and his voice raises again, making you giggle as he hugs you. “Y/N! Ah, you look cute, that shirt must be Yuta’s right?” You nod, as Yuta wraps his arm around you, kissing your head, “Yeah, she’s been stealing my clothes.”

“I think they would just look cuter on me.” You tease Yuta, laughing. “What are you doing here, Jungwoo?” repeats Yuta with a frown. “I wanted to surprise Maia with a gift, but I don’t know what. She’s sleeping still, but she wanted to decorate the house too so I’m just going to walk around. Can I hang with you guys?” Jungwoo says hopefully. You smile wide. He looks cute today, with a soft pink knit sweater and light brown pants. His pretty brown hair covers his eyes, however not hiding how bright and interested they are. “What do you think, darling?” Yuta’s voice takes you out of the soft Jungwoo fantasy. What were you thinking? You have Yuta. You like Yuta. You have to like Yuta. But, you had to admit Jungwoo today looks like a boyfriend, and you gulp as your stomach churns in a sort of jealousy for Maia.. “Yeah, let’s go get some drinks before we start.”

“Shut up!” Hisses Yuta as you and Jungwoo laugh, drinking what the others call boba. You chew on the balls, smiling at how the flavor of strawberry explodes in your mouth. “Y/N I’m telling you, Yuta is seriously perverted. In the system he would spend hours in the restroom reading magazines about women.”

“Shut up~!” Yuta starts to whine, clinging onto you tightly like a baby as you hold his arm, laughing so hard you’re about to fall off the chair. “So that’s how you’re such an expert on kissing~,” you laugh and kiss Yuta’s cheek. Jungwoo clears his throat and takes another sip, “So, you guys are going to Essential?”

“My friend, Clara, works there. She’s super cool, she’s the one that cheered me.”

“Was she a Crosser?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she can help us find Yuta’s family.”

“Oh, you came to Haven?”

“When I was 11 or so. They checked to see if I was fertile, and I was put in the Systems, away from my family.” Yuta says, his tongue drying at the last word, and his grip on you softens, before tightening at Jungwoo’s next words. “Hyung, you never said anything,” Jungwoo hugs Yuta, laying his head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, let’s go, okay?” You nod. “What about the dogs?” Yuta and you look at each other as Jungwoo holds your hand suddenly under the table. You widen your eyes as Jungwoo speaks calmly, “I was thinking that Y/N and I can go to the animal pound, and we can meet you there. You might want to be alone, especially since you know, this is your parents; Yuta, you don’t want to be distracted.” He pauses, and Jungwoo rubs the back of your hand. Shouldn’t you argue? Fight and stay with Yuta? You can’t. Jungwoo’s eyes are looking at Yuta so sweetly that you let him persuade Yuta. “That’s. . .not a bad idea. Are you okay with getting the dog with him?” You nod, kissing Yuta’s cheek. “I promise. We can meet back home, before dark?”

“Sounds great, darling.” He kisses you, and you hold his cheek, letting him kiss. He pulls away, satisfied, “See you.” Yuta gets up, hugging Jungwoo goodbye as he takes some Croppers, leaving. You wave goodbye, sighing to yourself before you feel tight, but loving arms around your hips, a hum coming out of his lips, “Finally.” You turn and smile, “Hi Jungwoo.” He leans down, a sneaky smile on his face, and kisses your cheek, “We’re alone~,”

You read about a back alley kiss. A boy pinning the girl to the wall, biting the girl’s lip, touching her body. Exciting her, tasting her, enjoying each other’s bodies.

This is exactly what happened between you and Jungwoo. He bit your bottom lip, his body close to yours, holding your waist with one hand. You can’t help but push yours closer, almost grinding on him. Soft moans escape at the way he grabs your ass, making you wonder. Why didn’t you feel this with Yuta? Here you felt more stimulated, with even more desire. You don’t know what made you so crazy about Jungwoo. Maybe it’s the way he pushes his tongue in your mouth. How he teases you by being so soft, so gentle, letting his finger run over your area, making you moan in his mouth. It could be because you felt a bulge near your stomach, making the feeling below your stomach go crazy. You want more, and this hunger wasn’t like with Yuta. What a strange feeling, yet you wanted even more than that. He was gentle but gave such deep and almost suckling like kisses on your neck. You groan, closing your eyes as you savor the taste from him just moments ago. “Jungwoo,” you softly moan his name, holding his hair close to your neck. “I knew you would like it better with me than with him,” Jungwoo grumbles, and you gasp as you’re lifted and still pinned against the wall, your area near his own.

“Jungwoo—!” Your sense of reality snaps back. This isn’t normal. You can’t do this. You have a duty with Yuta. You quickly shake your head, and immediately Jungwoo places you down. “I-I’m sorry,” You shake your head, “No. I-It’s fine. Can we go get our dog now?” You say quickly. You watch the twinkle in Jungwoo’s eyes fade and he nods, “Of course. I just. . .I must’ve read your signs differently.”

How he was wrong. How you’ve loved if he was your Crossing. How he could be the one to be yours forever. If you could have a child with him. But the Essential scientists would probably make you a psychologist. To choose between two men? The choice is obvious. You gulp, and try to hide your voice cracking as you both walk.

Jungwoo*POV

“So, when is your birthday?”

“T-Today.” I murmur, eyeing Y/N. Her face is pink, and I know she regrets it.

If only I can tell her. I want to tell her that I want her. That Maia doesn’t actually care. That she yells at me, just saying she wanted one of triplets. I’m not masculine enough. Not even her type. I want you, Y/N. I want your smile next to me when I wake up. I want your body to hug when I feel down. I want you to give kisses to our child.

I. . .I love you Y/N.

“Oh my god! And you didn’t tell me!” She says, as I shrug, looking at my shoes, walking out the alley like nothing happened. “It’s your and Yuta’s day, I-I shouldn’t have involved myself.” She holds my arm, and I smile a little from her grip as she shrugs. “I think I'll get you a dog.”

“What? Y/N— No. No way are you doing that. I’m fine. That kiss with you was my birthday gift; thank you Y/N.”

Her cheeks immediately redden, heating up, like a hot air balloon, but she doesn’t respond. Did I say something wrong? I bite my own tongue. It was a bad idea to even involve myself, besides, I have no chance with her. I open the door to the pound however, and her eyes light up, like the stars. I want to kiss her head. I want to be the one that could be her Crosser, to love her and cherish her. I want to take her away and keep her to myself. My eyes travel to her shirt and I can feel the smile on my lips. It’s a little cartoon dog, one I used to read in the System. Snoopy. “What dog breed are you getting again?”

“Cockapoo, why?”

“I like that breed,” I point to the one that looks like Snoopy. I think it’s a beagle, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. Y/N looks down at her shirt and gasps, “Oh, like this one, right?”

I nod, giving a soft smile. She walks down the aisles, and I just follow, “So, uh, what did you like to do for fun?”

“Where?” I ask, cooing at the small fluffy cloud dogs. I squat down, gently letting them sniff my hand. “The Systems. I don’t know what happens there, at least for the Boy’s. I remember getting a message from the Wall before, that someone had seen me and thought I was pretty.” I gulp, continuing to play with the dog. I don’t know if I should tell her, especially since I remember I made that hole in the wall. I was so desperate to see the Girl’s System, but all I heard was giggles and a voice. And I saw you, Y/N. You were reading a book, lying on your stomach, during what had to be System School. I made that letter when I was 9 years old. You were my first crush, who I dreamed to be with. You still are.

“I read,” I lie, trying not to look at her, standing up and rolling on my feet, coughing quietly as I stand back up. She widens her eyes, looking down. She must be realizing how tall I really am. How cute. A few Essential scientists pass, probably in charge and I clear my throat, “Excuse me,” The man turns and he frowns, “Yes?” He responds in a harsh tone. I brush it off and smile, “Do you know where we can find a Cockapoo breed? It’s for my—,”

“Are you both Crossers?” I widened my eyes. It would be bad to lie, to say yes. Although I want it. I want to be with her so bad. The feeling of a small, but loving touch wraps around my arm.

“Yes. We live in S-45.”

Your*POV

“Do you have any Croppers?” The Essential asks. You feel Jungwoo’s shaky breath. “Yeah, we’re willing to pay anything, right sweetie?” You say in a loving voice. The worst thing was, you meant every word. You rub his hand. Fuck it. You were sure they wouldn't check. Plus your friend knew that wasn’t him. But she would protect you. She always has. “The price is metal parts, Clara, will you—?”

“Yes sir.” Your friend brushes past you, giving a quiet nod, You dig into your bag, only pulling out some odd metal bits here and there. “Is this alright?”

“It’ll be half Cockapoo and half Yorkie.” Jungwoo quietly makes a cute noise and you smile, “Deal.” The Essential takes the Croppers, studying them before Clara brings back a small puppy, their eyes staring around. Their fur is black, except for the soft brown features on their face. Their eyes are a dark but warm brown, like their fur. They look at you in hope almost. “Would you like to know the personality?” Jungwoo carefully takes the puppy, his eyes bright and overjoyed. “Uh, sure?” You respond, letting the puppy sniff your hand, before it whimpers and closes their eyes. “She’s a few days old, and shy. Her parents are very sweet. I think she has a fear of mirrors.”

“Does she have a name?”

“No,” You smile and Jungwoo gently places the puppy in your arms, as the puppy hides in your shirt. You smile, “Thank you.” You both walk out the steel refined building, and you hum at the small puppy sneezing. “Bless you baby,” you smile, cooing. “Oh~, Jungwoo she’s so—!” Jungwoo suddenly pulls his hand away and clears his throat, as Yuta comes back, panting. “Y/N! Oh my god!” He squeals and goes to the puppy before stopping himself. “H-Hi puppy~,” Yuta leans down and kisses her head. “I haven’t named her yet, but;”

“I should go,” Jungwoo clears his throat. He back hugs you. “No, Jungwoo—, uh.” Yuta pulls away and looks at you, his eyes filled with innocence. “Y/N, is okay if you can go home alone?”

“What?” You say, confused. “Please?” Yuta holds your hands, they’re tight, with almost a need. Nodding with a quiet sigh, Yuta kisses you. But it hits you. Jungwoo’s hands on your body. Yuta’s. What were you going to do? You leave in a hurry, holding the puppy like a child. Your thoughts consume you. What was going on? It didn’t take Yuta long to go to Essential, did something go wrong? What if something bad happened to his parents? Your puppy whimpers and you hold her close. “Come on baby,” you coo, smiling. “You’re fine.” But who exactly were you telling that to?

After an hour of stress shopping, you arrive home, you leave the puppy on the ground. She moves around, letting out barks before sniffing the rug, she lays down, as exhausted as you are from being carried around. You take out your new Croppers, her dog bowl, some more fruits and meats, and her dog food. You decided to name the puppy, “Coco,” not knowing any better name. Coco falls asleep to the sound of you filling her bowl. And you collapse on the couch. Liberation was far more vibrant than you imagined, and far more expensive. It’s almost like the same system to the cities long ago, but you sit up, waiting. But waiting for who? You try to get up and hum, dancing the thoughts out of your mind. Forget Jungwoo, forget Yuta. You have a duty though. Give birth to a healthy child. Shouldn’t be that hard. Do the fun stuff. Eat well. Take hormone medication. Give painless birth. You smile at Coco kicking in her sleep, and you make yourself a snack. The only meal you had was with Yuta and Jungwoo earlier. Sighing at the memory after Jungwoo you go to the Haven Radio, a new contraption you bought to keep yourself at bay. Immediately what screeched out of the old junk is a song, one that you immediately knew. Once your friends sang it to cheer you up after you dropped your favorite book in some pudding. You sing loudly, not caring about anyone else, besides, you know the walls are soundproof. You dance, making sure not to disturb any neighbors as you laugh when you mess up a lyric, but continuing on. The moment won’t last, soon you will have to choose one. Choose one for the rest of your life. One to love, to cherish.

It’s almost like getting married. You take a bite of the peach and then the apple. Definitely apples, and not the peach. The peach tasted odd, and didn’t have that sweet taste you wanted. The apple is crunchy, fun and fills you up with memory. The door opens, and you turn around, hoping whoever enters doesn’t see your shenanigans.

“Hey, we need to talk Y/N.” Taeyong waves. “Hi, is it okay if I come inside?” You sigh quietly. Thank God it wasn’t him.

“Maia did what?!” You exclaim. Taeyong shushes you as he groans. His face is a bright pink, something you can’t help but smile over as he frowns. “A lot of girls have been coming to me, saying their Crosser is infertile. . .including Maia.” He looks at you and gulps. You shake your head, not even believing his question that hasn’t left his lips. “If you need help. Or see if anything that won’t work, I. . .I’m right down the hall.” Taeyong waves awkwardly, his eyes traveling down your body before he closes the door. He was rather cool with this process. Like he can do it all day. Unlike you, 24 and virginity to the max. Just had your first kiss with Yuta. Is this rumor even true? That the System was wrong and most of the boys were actually sterile? The duty lifts off your shoulders, but the remorse gets the best of you. Did Yuta find this out about Essential? You bite on your nails, starting to worry even more. You didn’t even know what to do. Being out of a System, no organization. Just one job. Get pregnant. Why was this harder than it has to be?

You go to bed. That’s one thing you can do well. Sleep. Sleep it away until you forget everything. You climb into bed, quickly changing. Your head doesn’t even hit the pillow as you hear a whimper. Your eyes are still closed, but you grab Coco’s body carefully, and place her on the bed. “Shh, hi Coco.” Coco sniffs you, before laying next to you. You smile, closing your eyes before any tears pour out. Why would you see Jungwoo in the first place? Why was Yuta acting weird? Why did you want him instead of Yuta? The thoughts swirl in your mind, each one coming back harder like a tsunami, and you hold Coco close, even as she licks you, it couldn’t heal you. You fall asleep, letting the thoughts of Jungwoo’s smiles and Yuta’s nickname for you echo in your ear as darkness consumes you. Waking up, you see Yuta at the edge of a bed, his arms moving slowly and gingerly. His eyes are focused, but yours aren’t yet. He looks like he’s carving something, until you sit up, rubbing your eyes before you yawn. His eyes almost look dilated. His lip twitches, but he hums a sort of lullaby. You finally focus on his arms petting Coco, who tries to move to you, instead. His other hand writes something down, on a piece of paper. “Yuta?” You say sleepily, before clearing your throat.

“You’re not wearing my clothes.” He left you to go home alone, and this was his answer? You sit up, opening your arms and Coco runs straight there, letting you hold her close. “What happened? With your parents and everything?” Yuta smiles at you solemnly, and he puts his paper and writing on a bed stand, on his side. Taking off his shoes, he lays next to you, his face nears yours. You lay back down and your nose is touching his, before he places his forehead on yours, kissing you in between each word, making that altogether gut feeling obvious. “My dad died, a few days after I was put in the system. They suspected him as the dad of the triplets. They operated on him, and had my mom watch.” You hold his face, pausing, not wanting your hesitation obvious, you pepper his face with your lips, before hovering over his own lips. “I’m so sorry.” Yuta’s eyes are shiny, his lips trembling, but it felt weird, leaving a taste on your tongue like the peach. “Darling. . .that won't work.” You sigh, and stroke his cheek. You felt such hopelessness, that all the regret you had felt earlier that night was gone. You only wanted to see that smile on his face again. “Haven is a horrible place. I don’t even know my parents. I am a product of Crossers. You have your mom, is she alright?” You hold him close. “Yes, she’s planning to move to Liberation soon, since her work as an Essential is almost done.” You hug him, pushing back the thought of doubt. He’s here, and you wouldn’t leave him for a second. He needed you, and you needed him for your own freedom. If this was your way, so be it. “Y/N, stop hanging out with Jungwoo. Including Taeyong. They’re the reason why my dad is dead.” You try not to show the surprised expression on your face as a loud boom goes through the apartment. “Everyone in the H building, please exit. The Children Neighborhoods are being evacuated. There is a birth defect virus.” You widen your eyes and Yuta helps you up, as you hold Coco close. You and he get your shoes on, before walking downstairs. Taeyong, his Crosser, Trinity, pass by you, wearing lounge clothes. About a million people, including small children and women with huge bellies look around, their Crosser hugging them. There is worry in the air, but there is more worry for you. You weren’t pregnant yet. Could it affect those who aren’t?

“Yuta, did you find—?” He's gone. You look around, frowning. How did you lose him? You call his name, holding Coco closer. Where did he even go? “Y/N!” Your friend, Clara hugs you. “Clara, what's going on?”

“Y/N, do you know Nakamoto Bunta?”

“Is that. . .Yuta’s dad?” You ask hesitantly, still trying to look around her, confused by the sudden rush of panic crashing upon everyone. “Yes, he’s still alive. I heard that he was your Crosser. You’re being moved.”

“Moved?!” You cry. “But why? Yuta is fine—!” Before you can continue with the lie, Clara stops you. “Y/N!” She cries, and she bites her lip in worry. “We have cameras, and we saw what happened in Essential, near the pound.” Your chest feels heavy, and breathing seems almost impossible, from the crowd, your own fear. Only Clara is focused. Everything else is blurry, and you can barely feel, even hear the words that you speak. “What happened?”

“Yuta attacked Jungwoo. He’s attacking all of the triplets. We tried to avoid him going into the System because they have Folie à deux. They’re delusional, and when he went to see his mom, it brought it back.”

“W-What? What is that?”

“It’s a shared delusion among family members and even couples. We have to make sure you’re okay, so we’re taking you to Essential.”

“Clara, he wouldn’t—!” You try to argue when you hear a scream. You turn back, but Clara grabs you and pushes you through the crowd. She doesn’t block your view as you see Yuta’s hair, and Taeyong’s body clashing into the ground. Yuta’s face is full of rage, his eyes dilated, his mouth open in frustration as even more Essential scientists try to push Yuta back. The hope of Yuta fades. You knew that face. He looks the same as he did only 20 minutes ago, on the bed beside you. He wanted revenge. He could’ve hurt you. You look away, ignoring his deep roar as he tries to fight off the other men pulling him off.

*Earlier*

The walk to Essential was short.

And Yuta hated short. The thought of you kept repeating in his mind. He didn’t fully trust Jungwoo. Honestly in the System, he never felt like he truly belonged, especially with the triplets and their friends. It always reminded him of the storm. Yuta shakes out the memory. The feeling of gray, his screams. Yuta instead opens the door, and walks in, being met with an official, a sort of business-like lobby. “Hello, welcome to the Essential district. Are you new?” The front desk man smiles, a suit on. “No, I’m actually a Crosser.”

“Name and home?”

“Nakamoto Yuta, H-55.” Yuta looks at the computer the man types on, fascinated by the hologram. The man nods but he widens his eyes as a red screen appears. “Uh—,”

“I want to see my parents. Please?” Yuta asks. The man looks at the hologram. It’s not possible. The Nakamotos family was supposed to be out of the system. Out of Haven even, they’re locked up. “A Crosser. . .?” The man mutters in amazement. He can only pray for the other Crosser he is paired with. The front desk man presses a hidden button for the guards as he smiles wide and bright, “Down the hall, then to the stairs and you can talk to the guard, Mr. Nakamoto. I hope you find your parents well.” Yuta smiles wide, “That sounds great.” Before he can do anything however, the guards apprehend Yuta, handcuffing him.

However, Yuta didn’t mind. “This is for your protection.”

“I understand.” He responds, calmly. Monotone. The front desk whispers to the guard. “It’s a Nakamoto. The family suffers from Folie à deux. The mother has been using that to him, and his sisters, who died. It was too dangerous for him to be with her. His dad is studying her right now.”

“Is this one dangerous as well?”

“Not that I know of.”

“How long until the big guards arrive?”

“16 minutes.”

“I’ll try to make it as long as I can.” Yuta looks down the hallway. He hates how he knows the floor of the steel walls. The iron cages he passes by. He felt something he hasn’t felt in years. Anger. Why was this place so. . .familiar? He felt the walls almost crush him, so he looked down. And why was that guard following him? Yuta turns with a glare. He tried to go as fast as he could but the guard often slowed down, or tried to keep up the pace. The feeling like he was being taken to his grave was too strong to ignore. “Yuta~?” He stops at the sound of his name. He knows that voice. As much as he knew the anthem of Haven.

Yuta runs for the source, met with the pale face of his mother. His mother looks so old; she’s deteriorating. He gently whispers the old name he used to call her, looking around. “What’s going on?” Yuta asks. “Sir, stand back.” The guard touches him. Like an instinct, Yuta hits him, regardless of the handcuffs. The guard knocks out and falls to the ground. “Yuta! Where have you been?”

The memories are back.

“Mom!” Yuta turns around to see his younger self, guards pulling him away from his mom. The hallway looks like a hologram. “Yuta please, go in! You’ll be fine, I promise! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“Mrs. Nakamoto, please let go of your son!”

“Where’s my husband?”

“He’s fine, he’s doing his work,”

“YOU BASTARDS ARE LYING! YOU KILLED HIM!”

“No, he’s being tested to be in the System.”

“DON’T LIE! YUTA, THE TRIPLETS! THEY’RE LYING! YOU’RE HIS SON AND DON’T EVER FORGET YOU’RE A NAKAMOTO!”

“Ma’am please go back to your cell—,”

“THEY KILLED YOUR FATHER YUTA!”

Yuta’s eyes are tear filled. He remembers the day so clearly. The day he was separated from his mom and his dad. The day he learned his dad was dead. The triplets lied. They said that it was his dad. He’s a Nakamoto. And the triplets will pay.

“Son, darling, you’re bleeding.” Yuta looks at his hands. He had clenched his fists so hard he began to bleed. “I don’t feel that Mother. What did they do to you?”

“They tortured me, son.” His mother sobs. Yuta doesn’t even notice the straightjacket she’s wearing. “The Essential scientists?” Yuta asks hopelessly. “Yes.”

“They keep saying one of them is your father. I won’t believe it. You have to find the triplets. They know the answers.”

“You sure Mom?” Asks Yuta. He tries to go through the bars, and hold his mother. “I’m sure. Go, quickly. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m so happy you’re alive, son.”

“I’m happy too. I love you Mom.”

“I love you too.”

*Later*

“So, what’s up?” Yuta and Jungwoo look down at their shoes as they walk back to the alley they’re in, how Jungwoo hopes Liberation has no cameras. No evidence of what only happened what felt like minutes ago. The image of you in their minds as Yuta breathes out, “I found my mom. She works at Essential, and I was so happy. . .” Yuta’s voice cracks quietly. Jungwoo hugs him immediately, and Yuta holds him close. “I don’t understand, then why—?”

“Jungwoo, can you promise not to tell Y/N something?” There’s a pause, that Yuta does not even notice as Jungwoo forces a smile, “Of course. Anything.”

Jungwoo thought he saw Yuta’s wide smile, but that was before he felt his body smashed against the stone floor, and his breath hitched in his own throat. “WHY DID HE LIE?!”

“W-what?!” Jungwoo tries to get up, but Yuta slams his hand down on Jungwoo's throat. “IT WAS YOU AND THOSE BASTARDS THAT SENT MY FATHER TO THE GRAVE! HE DIED TRYING TO PROVE HE WAS MY FATHER!”

“What- what. . .the fuck—. . .are you talking about?” Jungwoo tries to speak through, as his breathing slows, and he starts to only see Yuta’s dark, black hole like eyes. “DON’T LIE! I KNOW YOUR TRICKS!” Yuta spits back, his eyes wide as he clenches his throat with both hands now. “Please. . .” His eyes roll back, and Jungwoo quickly kicks Yuta in the groin. Yuta hisses and grabs his area, groaning in agony as Jungwoo gets up, coughing for air before sprinting off. He had to get to you. He had to get you safe before Yuta came back. That was, before Jungwoo is knocked out with a rock.

*Present*

You look at the Essential building, widening your eyes at how large you imagined it. Sure you studied about it, many many times, even doing structures on it in the System out of LEGO blocks. “Y/N,” You turn around and you’re in the hospital bed. Coco isn’t in your arms, but instead on the floor. “You’re comfortable with this? Just because I have to do this, doesn’t mean I’ll do it without your consent.” Clara speaks gently. You nod, looking back up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Thanks Claire.” Clara gently puts the technology over your eyes, whispering, “Good luck.”

“Y/N!” Yuta smiles at you. His smile was as wide as before. His eyes match his dripping honey-sweet smile, making you wonder, what happened? You smile back and when you try to walk to him, you’re in chains. “Hey—! Hey. . .Yuta?”

“This is for the Crossing!” He says. “Darling—,” you say, your eyes starting to get wet as you whimper, “Please, don’t—,”

“Don’t what, darling? Don’t hurt you? I can do whatever the fuck I want. Now,” He leans in, and you whimper. This simulation was too hard, too real. He looked just like he was beside you in bed. You didn’t want Yuta like this. “Baby. . .Please. . .” You say, your voice wet with despair. “Who killed my dad? Was it Kim Jungwoo? That motherfucker— Lee Taeyong?!” Yuta’s eyes are in your face, how dark they were, Swallowing you whole, and his voice echoes in your ears. He only demanded, only pierced into you. His eyes are dilated just like your own, but out of fear. Your gut was escalating the feeling you always felt with Yuta. It wasn’t desire.

It was fear.

You realize it’s not yourself you have to protect. Not from him.

“NO ONE DID!” You yell, pushing at the chains. “YOU’RE CRAZY, YUTA! HE’S FINE! PLEASE, LISTEN TO ME!”

“Y/N.” His voice echoes.

You gasp and look around. Clara isn’t there. No Yuta. No parents. No one.

But there’s a sneeze.

You turn and Jungwoo wipes his nose, kissing Coco’s head. “Jungwoo,” you look at the gauze wrapped around his head. He looks up, and he smiles, before getting up. “Y/N!” It was his voice you heard. And you knew, it wasn’t just you. But it’s fate. “I’m—, I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you.” You hug him instead, shaking your own head. “Jungwoo, I. . .I know it was you.” You whisper. “What?” He asks, his heart thumping in your ear, and you tilt your head to the side to listen. “I ate an apple. It was sweet.”

“What are. . .?”

“Shh I’m trying to make this moment sweet.” You grumble. “Not as sweet as me,” he teases and picks you up, and you smile at the memory in the alleyway. “When I first met you I had a peach. Back then, it felt bitter. Because we didn’t have anything yet. But recently, I had one. It was sweet.” You put your nose on his, letting it mush against his while his smile grows wider. “I, I like you Jungwoo. But I didn’t want us to be thrown to Essential, so I kept it hidden. But now, I can tell you. Especially since my Crossing went mad.”

“He almost killed me Y/N.” Jungwoo pouts. You try to hide your laughter but you hold Jungwoo close, like you’re a koala bear as you kiss on his gauze. He sighs in happiness, “Ah~, feels better already Y/N.”

“My turn,” Jungwoo smiles as he leans over, kissing you. That was a whole conversation. His tongue slowly met your mouth, and you both let each other hold each other close. You pull him even closer, letting your bodies move in sync as his hand moves towards—

“Y/N!” You drop to the ground, making Coco yelp out of fright. “I-Uh, hi Clara.” You try to smile as Jungwoo smiles back, his hand still on your ass. You smack it away, making him only smile wider. “. . .I was just about to announce how you and Jungwoo are paired up to be Crossers but I guess I don’t need to, do I?”

“Nope. I think we got it.”

“Thanks Clara,” Jungwoo smiles. “Don’t thank me. Thank Maia for trying to cheat on you and getting those STDs.” Clara rolls her eyes, looking at her hologram tablet. “Is Taeyong okay?”

“Yes, but he and his Crosser aren’t. I’m going to leave but uh, lock the door next time.” Clara leaves, and you and Jungwoo turn to each other. “So, are you free tonight?” He smiles, trying to bite his lip. You laugh, kissing his chin. “Yes. Weirdo.”

That night you couldn’t even try to do anything sexy. You and he were up all night giggling about memories in the System. “Please tell me that you knew another language.”

“I knew two, but everyone told me not to speak it.”

“Same!”

You ignored the Haven Radio about the Nakamoto Yuta trial. “Sweetheart~!” You whined from the cupboard. Your entire chest was stuck inside, and you couldn’t grab onto anything. “Please help me.” Jungwoo looks over and laughs, kicking your ass before running away to the next room. “KIM JUNGWOO IF YOU DON’T HELP ME I SWEAR TO GOD YOU WON’T GET ANY APPLE PIE!”

“Fine you’re no funny Y/N.” Jungwoo says in a cute but quiet tone as he helps you out. “Thank you Jungwoo~.” You hum, and kiss him. “That’s all I get for getting your clumsy ass out?” He pouts, before grabbing your waist. “No, I don’t think we’ll do that.” His hand travels from your waist to your ass and he firmly grips it. You widen your eyes at the sudden gesture. His eyes are dark. His cute sense is gone as he pushes his hair back with one hand and stares at you. His eyes are sprinkled with desire. Just like the first time; in the alley.

“I think I’m ready. But only if you’re ready though.” He whispers in your ear. The past month has been giggles and laughter, pecks and kisses between you two, with Jungwoo leaving notes, cute love letters around the home, even hiding them in your books. But now you finally had to realize. And choose. Is this what you wanted?

“Sweetheart,” you whisper back with a large smile, “I’ve been ready.”

#post apocalyptic #nct jungwoo #nct yuta #yuta angst #jungwoo fluff #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct angst #dee writes

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fanfictionlive · 4 years

Text

Tips for good characterization

I see this question popping time and again, so I decided to provide some tips on how to characterize well. I’ve been told time and again by my readers that my characters are always like their canon selves, so hopefully this will help someone! (and if you have more tips then go ahead and comment :).

Study the canon source. This might sound obvious, but the more you interact with the canon work, the more things you pick up on. I routinely replay/rewatch games I write about and if I don’t have time, I’ll go to Youtube and search for video compilations of the characters I’m using.

Strip your character to their bare essentials. When it comes down to it, what makes your character themselves?

What are their core personality traits?

What are they vices?

What are their quirks?

Name those things (this is very important) and write them down. Don’t just go by “eh I guess they’re like this.” No. Who are they? What are the solid, distinguishable traits they have? This is what you build your characterization on.

What’s their background? Character background might be one of the most important factors that affects how they behave.

Establish what made them into people they are. How was their family life? Relationships with peers? Job history? Traumas?

If canon doesn’t provide such information then it’s free reign to establish whatever you want, but make sure it lines up with their current self. For e.g. if your character acts as if they’ve been traumatized then they most likely have.

What are their motivations? Why does your character act the way they do? What’s their ideology? What do they wish to achieve?

This is important because not only does it help predict their future actions but also because it can be used to branch out and write AUs.

Perhaps your character is motivated by revenge and that’s why they act the way they do. But what if we remove revenge factor? The character will behave differently and we’ll have to adjust, but we cannot do that if we don’t understand which actions were dictated by his motivations and which ones are rooted in his core personality.

Study.their.dialogue. I cannot overstate this, this might be the single most important element that makes or breaks characterization. We’re willing to turn a blind eye if someone behaves a bit off (once again, might be the case with AUs) but once they don’t sound like themselves? It all comes crumbling down. They’re no longer themselves.

Questions to ask yourself when analyzing speech:

do they use long, floral sentence or short, straight to the point ones? Something in between?

do they have quirks associated with their speech, for e.g. over-emphasis of certain words?

do they use slang?

do they speak in a specific dialect?

do they have an accent?

do they have catch-phrases?

what’s their education level? (as this definitely affects how we speak; think of all the scientist characters that sound “super smart”)

Answer all of those and write the dialogue accordingly.

A thing worth remembering: in case of accents, dialects, and slang—not every sentence has to emphasize those elements. In many cases it may prove annoying.

However, you should pepper them in throughout the entire work. Say your character has a heavy Southern drawl, either mention this in the dialogue tag (“he drawled”) or make him lose his g’s in certain situation (but make it have a pattern, for example he starts talkin’ like this anytime he’s mad).

A golden advice that makes the dialogue more realistic and in character: lift parts of your MC’s dialogue from the canonical work and intertwine them with the dialogue you wrote yourself.

Your character said a memorable sentence that could work in the speech they’re making in your fic? Work it in! This communicates to the readers “yep, it’s them” without being in your face (as is the case when someone straight up copies entire canonical speeches).

Avoid changing core personality traits. A hot-headed loudmouth who’s suddenly a patient, polite saint simply won’t work. It’s too jarring.

BUT if you really need to make drastic changes, ensure that the readers can track why your character behaves differently. Describe the changes that occurred and explain why they affected the character.

submitted by /u/catfishedagirl [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3kGUlO7

#fan fiction #writing #fanfiction #tv show #series #movie #fan #write

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stan-the-fic-man · 6 years

Text

Brink - Chapter 1: Hunt for Energon

In far-off reaches of space, not too far from the Solar system, there was a lone vessel of unknown origins. It was no human vessel, and very few gem vessel still actually came to this system anymore. Even after recent events, there were still only a select few that had ever come back to this small stretch of the galaxy.

While it was not something either side was aware of, the same could be said about the crew of this rather oversized vessel. While it may not have been the first time that this group of aliens had been to the reaches of this galaxy, it was the first time they had been here under circumstances that were even close to cooperative.

“Soundwave, are you absolutely sure that these readings are still good? I mean, Shockwave must have gotten these millions of cycles ago.” A large, white metallic being asked. The robot in question went by the name of Jazz and was one of the select few that were sent on this mission. In addition to him and the one he was speaking to, there were several others along for the ride.

Their mission was simple in theory but very difficult in execution. This small, ragtag team was sent to find more energy for their home planet. Or at the very least, find something that could be converted into what they needed. Energon was hard to find and even harder to manufacture from raw energy. The purer source they found, the easier it would be to convert.

Currently, they were hot on the trail of some old reports that were taken during the time of their war. It may have been an incredibly long time since the readings were last taken, but they were getting desperate at this point, and it was truly showing.

“Autobot concerns are unwarranted.” Soundwave answered in his synthesized voice, “Readings indicate that from the volatile nature of the planet's surface, any life forms would be incapable of long-term survival. Even if there was stabilization of the atmosphere, the chances of any organism surviving, native or otherwise, is roughly 2.37 percent.”

“2.39 percent, actually.” Another bot answered, an accent in his voice. “Although I do believe Shockwave’s reading to still hold some semblance of accuracy, we still must account for not only time but also the heavy chance for cataclysm in this part of the galaxy. While I do enjoy fellow intelligent company, Shockwave does have a tendency to not double check his work.”

“Yeah, that’s why he only has one arm now.” another Autobot spoke up, this one slightly smaller and red, two horn adorning his head, “Are you saying that you actually like being around that mad scientist Perceptor?”

“Not as casual company, Cliffjumper.” Perceptor told him, “More so because it is nice to have someone who can keep up with and understand all the things that I create and devise.”

“You saying something about us there, Perceptor?” Jazz asked accusingly.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Most of you Autobots shine about as bright as a three-watt bulb.” One of the other Decepticons chimed in. He was not alone, behind him were the four closest of his comrades.

“You’re hardly one to be talking, Swindle.” Cliffjumper interjected, “You’re a con in every sense of the word. Weren’t you the one that was trying to sell tainted energon without knowing what you had?”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who was using it. That honor of stupidity goes to you and the rest of the Auto-trash.” Swindle rebutted.

“Maybe, but, if memory serves, one of your Decepti-creep friends was kind enough to take it back to your boss.” Jazz added, looking over at one of the larger members of the group. “Tell me Brawl, how’d Megatron react when he found out all that stuff was useless?”

“Unless you’re looking to get deactivated, I suggest you keep your questions to yourself.” Brawl answered, his tone showing clear anger, “This may be a joint op, but that doesn’t mean that accidents don’t happen.”

“You know I’m surprised they don't just call you brawn,” Cliffjumper added, “because you clearly have very little going on upstairs or anywhere else to be known for anything else.”

“That’s it!” Brawl shouted in fury, pushing Swindle out of the way to make an immediate b-line to Cliff Jumper. Not waiting for the hulking brute to come closer, Cliffjumper started to run towards him as well. Yet, just as the two got ready for a fight, they were stopped.

“Enough!” two voices shouted, coming from each side's respective leader as they got between them.

“Come on, Hot Rod.” Cliffjumper said, “Let me just teach this creep a lesson. I promise that it will make him far more agreeable.”

“Stand down, Cliff.” Hot Rod ordered, “You know as well as I do that it will cause more issues then it will solve.”

“That red scraplet is asking for it, Onslaught.” Brawl fumed, “If he doesn’t learn some manners, I may teach him some.”

“We can’t afford for you to start things with them.” Onslaught told him, “We have a mission and Megatron is not going to be happy if there are any setbacks. This is not a time for the two of you to start the war back up.”

Both Brawl and Cliffjumper were not at all happy with what their commanders said, but they were inclined to do as they were told. They had been put in charge and both sides knew that it was for a reason. Even if they themselves could not see why.

After briefly glaring at each other, the two turned away and went back to their own sides. Upon seeing this, the two commanders relaxed slightly but were quick to turn to each other so that they may talk about what just happened.

“If you expect this mission to go through without further issue, I suggest that you keep your Bots in check.” Onslaught told the Autobot lieutenant.

“Noted.” Hot Rod said abrasively, “but I suggest you do the same with your cons. We were both brought on this mission for a reason, and that was to ensure both our sides knew what was going on here. We don't need another incident.”

“That’s one of the few things that our kind can agree on.” Onslaught told him, “So for now, let's get back down to business.”

“Agreed.” Hot Rod said, heading back to the front of the ship where Perceptor and Soundwave were. It had been a tense ride all the way, and the two factions were only cooperating due to the orders that had been given to them by their leaders. While neither one liked each other, both Optimus and Megatron knew that cooperation was necessary in order for all of this to be resolved.

But that didn’t stop to two from constantly trying to get one over on the other. The entire crew of this mission could still remember the argument that was had before the task had even been decided.

“Soundwave,” Megatron said to his officer, “you will be the one heading this mission. If Shockwave’s reports are still accurate, the amount of raw energy that we could find on this planet will be able to sustain us for quite some time. Get there, set up communications and then report to me your findings.”

“As you command, Lord Megatron.” the comms officer said.

“Hold it right there, Megatron.” the Autobot leader said, his voice low and commanding, “Do you honestly think that we will let you handle this mission yourself?”

“Really now, Optimus.” the Decepticon leader said, “It would not be at all necessary for your Autobots to come along with this mission. It is simple recon, nothing. Do you honestly have so little trust in us that you think we cannot do this without issue?”

“Yes.” Optimus answered plainly, “After what happened in the last mission, I insist that a team of our own accompanies you.”

The leaders of each faction simply glared at each other, a strong sense of hate being felt by anyone in the room. The two almost never agreed on anything, but they were also aware that compromises needed to be made in times such as this. So, it was Megatron to yield this time around.

“Very well, Optimus. Send your own team if you please, but do not over encumber this mission with useless soldier. Send only what you need.” Megatron said, before turning back to Soundwave, “Soundwave, the Combaticons will accompany you on this mission. Hopefully, they will not be needed.”

“Acknowledged,” Soundwave said, turning to exit the room.

“I do not take orders from you.” Optimus commented, before turning to his own, “Hot Rod, I want you leading this mission.”

“Really, Optimus?” the Bot asked, “I’ve never lead a mission before. Are you sure that I am ready for this.”

“We don’t always get the choice of when we must lead, but I think this will be a good start for you.” Optimus told the young Lieutenant, “Take Jazz, Perceptor, and Cliffjumper. Ensure that the Decepticons don’t get up to anything and, if there is any raw energy there, report back once the communications have been established.”

“I won’t fail you.” Hot rod said, bowing his head slightly.

“I know you won’t.” Optimus encouraged him.

“Perceptor, what’s the report?” Hot rod asked the scientist.

“Well, so far nothing new.” Perceptor answered, glad that the conflict was resolved before it began, “As said by many others before, this information is very old, but I still feel that it holds merit. With the number of plausible accidents that happen in this remote system and the fact that it has its own asteroid belt, it’s unlikely that anything would survive long enough to develop. That being said, once we get close enough, I’ll be able to have a better reading of-”

Perceptor was interrupted when a small alarm noise could be heard from the head of the shuttle. Not wasting any time, he, Onslaught, Soundwave and Hot Rod made their way to the front to see what the fuss was. Once they got into the cockpit, Onslaught was quick to question his pilots.

“Blastoff, Vortex, what’s going on?” the Combaticon leader asked.

“We’re picking up strange readings from the planet that we’re approaching.” Blastoff said, “It’s unlike anything that the old logs have said.”

Bringing up a tracking map on the screen just above them, a map of the planet showed the where about of possible fuel sources. While there were a great deal of them dotted across the surface, the most prominent one was at the very center of the large rock. One that glowed like a mass of pure Energon.

“Perceptor, do have any idea what that is?” Hot Rod asked.

“I’m not sure at all.” Perceptor answer, baffled by what he was seeing, “This does not show up at all in the old information logs. Shockwave’s data has nothing on this.”

“Energy signature is near identical to that of raw energon.” Soundwave said.

“Raw? How could there possibly be a deposit of raw energon that wasn’t noticed before?” Onslaught asked, “I know the reports are millions of cycles old, but we would have seen it even back then? Vortex, take us in closer. We need to see just what’s changed on this supposedly uncharted world.”

Without a word, the Decepticon began to move closer to the planet. And once they got close enough, they were all shocked to see that, not only was life still on the planet, but it seemed that it had also evolved enough to get to a point of civilization.

“So what were those chances again, Perceptor?” Jazz asked, him and the rest of the crew having just recently come up to the bridge to see what the fuss was.

“I guess the saying true, life does find a way.” Cliff added.

“This is astonishing.” Perceptor said in complete awe, “to think that a species could survive against nearly every odd thrown against it. I know it’s possible, but this is truly something of a miracle.”

“Irrelevant.” Soundwave said, moving to one of the consoles, “Mission objective is the acquisition of energy. Subspecies must not hinder mission progress.”

“This is kind of important, Soundwave.” Jazz said, “We don’t know anything about these creatures. For all we know, they could be more fragile than Cliff’s glass gun.”

Cliffjumper simply rolled his eyes, giving an angry grumble at the comment about his favorite weapon.

“Irrelevant.” Soundwave repeated, “The mission takes priority, and the subspecies will not hinder us.”

“This is completely relevant, Soundwave.” Hot said, “We don’t know anything about this planet or it’s species. For all we know, they could already be acquiring the energy and using it for themselves. Now I know that you don't care about what happens to them, but wouldn't it be easier to try asking them first. Sure, we don't know if they speak our language, but it’s always worth a shot.”

“I hate to say it, but Hot Rod is right.” Onslaught added, “The more conflict we avoid, the more energon we bring back. If these things are even the slightest bit intelligent, we might be able to work something out. Who knows, we could wind up taking it all without them even caring.”

There was a long moment of silence in the cockpit as everyone stared at Soundwave. Of everyone in this group, he was the one to the most affirmative action. He never did anything without considering all factors, and his loyalty to Megatron was something that no one else could match. So, when he made a decision, everyone knew there was no going back from there.

It took a long period of thought, but Soundwave eventually gave his answer.

“Squawktalk, eject.” Soundwave commanded, a blue minicon flying out of his chest compartment. The con in question was one of the least liked among anyone who knew of him, as the bird-like robot seemed to never stop making noises.

“Operation; translation,” Soundwave told Squawktalk. No sooner was it said that bird flew out of the room, heading for the back exit of the ship. Everyone was thankful for this, as none wanted to hear that thing go on in every language they knew.

“Alright, that’s something we can take care of at least.” Onslaught said, glad to have done the smart thing. “Still, I don’t think that we should stick with just one plan. If that doesn't work out, we need to find a place to start this harvesting.”

“Agreed.” Hot Rod said, before turning to Perceptor, “Perceptor, what’s your opinion on the best course of action?”

“Well, based on everything that I am seeing so far,” Perceptor said, turning to work with one of the consoles, “with this mass build up of energy near the core of the planet, it is not unlikely that there may be several points on the surface where it can escape. Now, where there are several places that have large build up, I suggest we go to this one.”

Perceptor pointed to the map. The others all looked to what he was pointing to, seeing that there was a large energy spike on what looked like some sort peninsula of land.

#fanfiction #CrossOver #transformers #steven universe

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cassiebones · 7 years

Photo

Sanvers Week: Day Two

Nerd Girlfriends

“Mr. Schott, please be careful with your chemicals today. I cannot afford another trip to the emergency room.”

“Relax, Dr. J’onzz,” Winn replies. “We’re not even working with anything flammable today.”

“And when has that stopped you before?” Alex calls across the room at her little brother. Half the class snickers under their breath as Winn sticks his tongue out at her. Kara rolls her eyes and nudges him so that he pays attention to the formula she’s writing down. She’s been working on ‘safe’ alternatives to prevent any more of Winn Schott’s infamous accidents.

Somehow, he always manages to set something on fire, anyway.

“Focus, Danvers,” Maggie Sawyer—Alex’s lab partner and…well, she doesn’t know quite what else they are to one another just yet, but it’s more than platonic, that’s for sure—says, holding up a beaker. She looks adorable in her yellow-green lab goggles and lab coat. Alex shoots her a tiny smirk as she looks down at her notebook in her lap. They’re the stars in Dr. J’onzz’s AP Chemistry class. They would be the youngest, if it weren’t for Winn and Kara and that Luthor girl who has practically skipped most of junior high to be there.

She finds it hard to focus when Maggie is so close to her and she plays with her own goggles as she takes note of the chemical formula she’d hastily written down after their last ‘study session’—which was more of them making out on Alex’s basement couch than actually working on their chemistry homework, really. Some of the formula, she remembers by heart—because they’ve worked so long and so hard on perfecting it—but most of it just looks like squiggles to her.

“What does this say?” she murmurs to Maggie, leaning in and pointing to the third line on the page, while also attempting to ignore the hypnotizing scent of her perfume. Or was it pheromones? Alex couldn’t decide, but it was very distracting.

It gets worse when Maggie leans closer, her eyes trained on the formula and her head tilted in that way that places her hair right beneath Alex’s nose, so now she can smell the strawberries and cream shampoo that she knows Maggie uses.

God, she is so fucking gay. How does she even function around this girl?

“Sodium Chloride?” Maggie asks, furrowing her brow as she looks back up at Alex. Their noses are practically brushing and Alex can see a glint of mischief in her eyes when the shorter girl realizes that she’s blushing. “You okay, Danvers?”

“What?” Alex splutters. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’m good. I’m chill.”

“Chill?” Maggie teases. “Seriously? Nerd.” But her smile is soft and Alex feels the brush of her fingers on the back of her hand and she fights the shive that goes down her spine.

She clears her throat and pulls away, taking a deep breath. “Um, so, salt then? We need salt.”

“That’s what Sodium Chloride is typically known as, yes,” Maggie snorts, standing up. “And vinegar, I believe. Unless I’m remembering wrong?”

“No, I think that’s what we decided on,” Alex looks back down at her notebook, but it’s more to stop herself from gazing longingly—gayly—at her…Maggie, than anything else. When Maggie is a few feet away, though, requesting salt and vinegar from Dr. J’onzz’s supply cabinet, Alex watches her with a tiny smirk on her lips.

She and Maggie have been doing this…this thing with one another since they were first paired up at the beginning of the year. She had moved here from Nebraska with her Aunt Helen—an absurdly religious woman that glared at Alex anytime she saw her, just because Alex’s hair was cut short “like a boy’s”. Maggie had been outed at her old school and her father had had a negative reaction, to say the very least. He’d kicked her out within a week and then her mother’s sister had begrudgingly taken her in, under the requirement that Maggie attend church every Sunday.

What other choice did a fourteen-year-old girl have?

Now, at fifteen, Maggie is a bit more confident in her sexuality, though she still hasn’t informed her aunt about the nature of their relationship. That’s okay with Alex, though. She still isn’t sure what they are, either; she just knows that Maggie makes her feel the way she’d been certain boys were supposed to make her feel, but never did. Not like they do for Kara or Winn.

“Hey!”

Alex jumps, nearly falling off of her stool. She hadn’t even noticed Maggie returning to their table, so lost in her thoughts was she. Maggie catches her with one strong arm, giving her a dimpled grin as she rights her and perches herself on the adjacent stool. She places the salt and vinegar on the table and holds up a tiny vial of some kind of blue liquid.

“Look what Dr. J gave me,” she says. “I told him about what we were working on and he said this would make it, like, ten times better. I bet it’s some kind of alien thing.”

“For the last time, Sawyer,” Alex sighs, “Dr. J’onzz is not an alien. He’s just a regular guy who wears warm sweaters, drinks tea, and keeps a fire extinguisher on hand for Winn.”

“You didn’t see his eyes glow last week.”

“That was probably a trick of the light. There are no aliens in Midvale.” Maggie raises her eyebrows and gestures to Kara, who was surreptitiously using her heat vision to light hers and Winn’s Bunsen burner. Alex presses her face into the palm of her hand. “Okay,” she says. “There’s one alien. But it’s not Dr. J’onzz.”

“Whatever you say, Danvers,” Maggie murmurs, measuring out a couple mL of vinegar. Alex rolls her eyes and grabs the salt, sticking a tablespoon into the tin and leveling it out to pour into their beaker. They watch as the liquid inside turns light pink as a puff of smoke rises up. “Whoa,” Maggie says. “It actually works!”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Alex laughs. “What’s that thing that Dr. J’onzz gave you?”

“Dunno,” Maggie says, “but he told me to only put in one or two drops. He didn’t exactly tell me what it would do. Maybe something…out of this world.” She gives Alex a cheesy smile as the taller girl groans.

“I’m going to break up with you, I swear to Gertrude Elion.” When there’s no response from Maggie, Alex looks back up to find her staring. “What?”

“I just…um, I wasn’t aware…are we dating?”

Alex’s cheeks turn pink as she realizes what she’s just said. “Um, I dunno. I…I kind of just assumed.” She shakes her head, trying to school her features even as her heart drops into her stomach. “But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“No, Alex, it’s…it’s fine.” Maggie’s hand wraps around hers under the table and Alex looks up to see her dimpled grin and shiny eyes. She was the best at shiny eyes and dimpled grins. “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to…”

“Of course I do,” Alex blurts, and her face must be beet red right now. “I mean, if you want to.”

“Oh, for Rao’s sake!” Kara bursts out from across the room. “Everybody knows you two are dating! Just make it official already!”

Alex glares at her sister, who has turned an even deeper shade of red than herself, her shoulders slumped as she gives her a sheepish smile and wave. Maggie snorts, pressing her lips against Alex’s shoulder and shaking her head.

“Super-hearing?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Alex sighs, in return, but she’s smiling now as she pulls away to look Maggie in the eyes. “So,” she says, looking down, shyly, at her feet, “girlfriends?”

“Why, Alex Danvers,” Maggie gasps, like some kind of Southern Belle, putting on a heavy country accent, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Alex laughs and leans forward, pressing a quick peck to Maggie’s lips, which Dr. J’onzz pretends to ignore as several of their classmates clap and let out sounds of jubilation.

“Finally,” Alex hears Kara mutter and she sends her another glare before turning back to Maggie.

“Do you want to do the honors?” she asks, handing her the dropper.

“I would love to,” Maggie replies, taking it and dipping it into the vial that the teacher had given them, then placing it above their vial. “Ready for this?”

“Can’t be any worse than what Schott’s about to do to his and Kara’s project,” Alex murmurs, glancing over Maggie’s shoulder, to where Winn is starting to go all ‘mad scientist’ as he tends to do when left alone with various ingredients. Even Kara can’t stop what’s about to happen.

Maggie snickers as she squeezes two drops into the pink liquid and backs away as there’s another puff of smoke that pours from the mouth of the beaker, which gains the attention of several pairs of eyes. Dr. J’onzz stops in front of their table as the smoke clears and a rainbow appears, just at the mouth of the beaker.

“Brilliant!” the teacher says, clapping his hands. “I knew you had the right formula. A-Plus, Miss Danvers, Miss Sawyer. And, uh, congratulations.” He winks at them and Alex blushes as Maggie smiles at her, linking their fingers under the table and pressing her forehead to her shoulder.

Before they can get too cozy, however, there is the sound of an explosion from the other side of the room and they turn to see Kara frowning at Winn, his face covered in black soot and a beaker still in his hand. The shoulder of her flame-retardant sweater (made specially by Eliza Danvers) has a tiny flame on it and Kara reaches up to put it out with her bare fingers as she shakes her head at her lab partner.

“Mr. Schott!” Dr. J’onzz booms, reaching for the fire extinguisher.

“…oops?”

@queercapwriting DAY TWO

#sanversweek #day2 #sanvers #fanfiction #fan art #kara danvers #winn schott #j'onn j'onzz

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depizan · 7 years

Text

Anyway, before I got distracted by Gault and his weird plans and legion of enemies, I was trying to work out ficverse version of Smuggler Nar Shaddaa.

Canon has the Smuggler arrive on Nar Shaddaa to trade a rare critter for an experimental starship engine, only to find that Drooga is no longer interested because someone stole his other rare critter. That group, despite being perfectly capable of successfully stealing from a Hutt, has now grasped the Idiot Ball with both hands and one of them has been captured by an evil mad scientist. But the Smuggler manages to get both critters, deal with the mad scientist, and get Drooga to keep his original deal. Meanwhile, Corso has decided to spend the chapter being a speciesist dickbag. And there’s a whole sideplot with Drooga having gotten Bowdaar from a gambler (I have so many questions. So many.) but finds him unsatisfying and, after trying to kill him a couple of times just kind of gives him to the Smuggler.

Problems:

1. Drooga, as presented in game, seems to be entirely interested in eating things and being entertained. Why does he even have a prototype engine? Did he get that from a gambler, too?

2. You keep fucking up Drooga’s assorted Bowdaar related entertainment, yet this inexplicably does not get you a date with entertaining things with lots of teeth. Or even just tossed off the side of his pleasure barge. Hell, you keep insulting Drooga. To his face. Is Drooga supposed to be the most mellow Hutt ever?

3. I have some issues with Corso’s writing, over all, but nowhere else is he written as this much of an ass. He thinks Bowdaar’s a monster, complains that he smells, and is clearly really unhappy that you let him come with you. He calls Drooga’s majordomo a “blue headed fella” as if he’s never seen a Twi’lek before and bitches about the guy’s accent - saying that he’d call him by name if he just talked right. (?!) He just, out of nowhere, suddenly acts like that relative you hope everyone forgot to invite to the family reunion. Why, writer? WHYYYYYY?

4. The animal rights group people are just painfully dim. Even without getting into the incredible foolishness of accepting help from a scientist who’s been locked up by the Empire for going too far. The Empire. (Yes, okay, they could think he was locked up for not going far enough, but it just comes off like they didn’t stop to think for a nanosecond that maybe they should do a little research before trusting this guy.)

5. How’d the scientist even know about the animal rights group? How does he have hordes of dangerous beasties? How is he doing experiments? Does Shadow Town control anything? The fuck kind of prison is this!? (Granted, my serious questions about Shadow Town are not limited to this story line.)

6. I’m not real thrilled with how the game is comfortable treating the abuse of Bowdaar as just this kind of unimportant side plot. It’s as if the Smuggler would’ve just walked away if Drooga hadn’t randomly freed him.

Lastly (Or fic-specifically): There is no way that Jezari would look at this mess and not go “Screw this, lets just steal the damn thing.” Yes, pissing off Hutts is bad, but Drooga’s a grade A dickbag who changes his mind every five seconds about whether he’s even going to go through with the trade and keeps sicking dangerous animals on an abused Wookiee. Besides, he’s not interested in experimental engines. If you leave the box, it might be years before he’d notice it’s missing.

Honestly, for all that Risha’s about deal making, it’s hard for me to imagine her going to so much trouble to acquire something on the hopes that someone as changeable as Drooga will deal for it. It feels like there’s an at least 50% chance that he’d have changed his mind even if the other critter hadn’t been stolen. And, seriously, this guy has such bad security that a couple of socialites could burgle his animal pens. (Yeah, yeah, they had hired help. Who they probably hired from the scum in the first bar they saw on Nar Shaddaa. You can’t tell me they put more effort into that than into checking on mad scientist guy.)

No, this clearly should’ve been a heist. Go in for the engine, come out with the engine and a Wookiee. I’m pretty sure the SW:TOR Encyclopedia lists heists among Risha’s previous crimes. Sure, engines aren’t something you can stick in your pocket and walk off with, but that just means its the kind of heist than involves the repulsorcraft equivalent of a cargo van.

I buy Risha and Jezari sneaking a engine (and a Wookiee) off Drooga’s ever wandering pleasure barge way before I buy a couple of socialites sneaking a huge toothy beast off of it.

There’s got to be a near constant stream of cargo fliers coming and going from the barge to supply the endless eating, drinking, and general Huttish merriment. Slip in like one of the deliveries, slip out with the goods. Or intercept one of the deliveries and actually make the delivery, and slip out with the goods. Or get on the barge as a guest, burgle the treasury, collect Bowdaar, and sneak out in a delivery speeder. Or steal one.

No need for dim socialites or mad scientists too twisted for the Empire. Just a simple theft. Hell, Bowdaar could’ve pretty much saved himself and just jump in or on the delivery speeder as its leaving. Or about to leave. Or whatever. He’s supposed to be this great fighter and all. You’d think he’d try to escape.

(But then the game can’t really be bothered to work out Bowdaar’s personality or anything. It’s not like he needs to be more than an unbeatable gladiator slave who’s happy you rescued him or anything. *pokes the writers with a stick*)

Oh! They could be making a clean get away with the “delivery” speeder and Jezari sees this Wookiee climbing on the outside of the barge with guards after him, and she swings around so he can jump on while Risha’s facepalming in the passenger seat.

One slight shoot out and ride to the spaceport later and Bowdaar’s signed on as crew and Risha’s mentally adjusting all future plans to take into account the fact that Jezari just cannot mind her own business.

Yeah, I like that. Risha’s got a nice simple plan to get the engine and keep Drooga from ever working out who stole it, or even when it was stolen, and then right at the end, just as they’ve got it pulled off, Jezari goes and interferes in someone else’s escape and now Drooga knows they stole a Wookiee and a prototype engine and damn it they did not need yet another bounty on their heads. A galaxy full of smugglers and Skavak picked Captain I Never Turn Down a Person in Trouble to steal from!

Not sure if I’ll fic it or not, but that works nicely. It keeps Risha as clever, is in character for Jezari, and even lets Bowdaar save himself (mostly) while still giving him a reason to sign on to the crew. And, of course, Corso isn’t weirdly speciesist at (or about) anyone, which makes it perfectly reasonable that he and Bowdaar go on to be the stuff wrecking team as needed for the crew. (And if he needed to learn Shyriiwook because they don’t teach it on Ord Mantel, that just means he can dust off the tapes or whatever Jezari got him and give them to Kyrian later.)

Headcanon solidified.

(And poor Risha and Savler can go drinking together sometime and commiserate over Jezari’s inconvenient quirks.)

#smuggler spoilers #headcanoning #fic background stuff #how it really went #Jezari Solarin

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cassiopeiassky · 7 years

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When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 34

Hi everyone! I just want to take a minute to say thank you to all you wonderful readers out there! Your support, encouragement, and kind words mean the world to me. Please know that even if I don’t get a chance to respond to every comment, I do read them all. Thank you all so, so much.

Plot: When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.

Word count: 2367

Warnings:

For the entire work: Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst. This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut. If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Mentions of parent/child separation, violations of privacy, mentions of anxiety/panic If I need to add anything else, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. If you don’t want me to publish the ask, I won’t, or you can feel free to do it as a Nonnie. I will not take offense to any trigger warning requests. Your well-being is important to me and I do NOT want to trigger anyone.

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“And Anatoliy?” His voice grows hard and threatening, “Do not lay another hand on her – she is not yours to hurt. Or touch.” He pauses before he narrows his eyes. “That goes for your pilot, as well.”

“Of course, Nicolai,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

You fight back the urge to vomit again as you realize that Anatoliy’s reaction likely means that this was originally going to be an extraordinarily unpleasant flight for you. It bothers you to no end that you can’t help but be at least a little thankful for Nicolai’s ‘protection.’

Metzger explains how to complete the injections – you won’t need to take your sweatshirt off because it’s to be administered into your thigh, much like an EpiPen, and can be given through your jeans. Thank God.

Shooting a baleful glare in Anatoliy’s direction, you gather yourself and slowly move to one of the couches to wait for the medication while he finishes with the call. You welcome the prospect of sedation; maybe then your heart won’t hurt so much.

Your memories of the following days are extremely sketchy – and you’re thankful for that. You remember being roughly shaken awake as you arrived, the bitter cold as you were moved from the jet and into a car and then again from the car and into a wheelchair, and then the warmth as you were brought inside what appeared to be a large estate.

After that you remember waking briefly on some sort of table with bright lights shining above you, and the feel of cold, ungentle hands on your skin before and after several sharp needle pokes.

You remember him – the doctor as he laughed at you – and the hot, sticky sting of tears drying on your face. You remember brief moments of waking in a bed that was not yours, either drenched with sweat or freezing with chattering teeth.

Even during those fleeting moments of lucidity, you remember the searing ache of being away from those you love, and you yearned for unconsciousness. And as much as you want to be blissfully unaware right now, it will not happen because you are finally emerging from the fevered, drug induced haze that has been your companion for what feels like years.

Goddamn it.

Alright, first things first – you need to compartmentalize. As hard as it is, and God, it is so hard, you cannot allow yourself to think of Artie and Jimmy. You can’t. At least not right now. You need to mentally tuck them away into a safe, warm place in your heart and lock the door. If you focus on them, on the intense and desperate pain of your separation, then you won’t be able to focus on surviving your new environment. Grieving for and missing them will not bring you home to them – but surviving will.

I love you, babies…I’m so sorry…I’ll think of you later, when Momma’s safer, okay? I promise I won’t forget you, you’re both always in my heart…

As for Bucky…he’s coming. You know this as surely as you know that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so you need to be ready and you need to be as healthy as possible.

Survive.

Several deep and deliberate breaths later, you open your eyes to take in your surroundings. You’re in a bed that’s much too soft for your liking and covered in a soft, white duvet. It’s a large room but it doesn’t feel that way due to the dark colors. You struggle sit up to get a better look.

Damn, this room is ugly…it looks like an antique shop threw up in here. For fuck’s sake, even Emily Gilmore would say this is too much. All the furniture is incredibly ornate with delicate, spindly legs, dark wood, and dark, hideous upholstery. You don’t even need to sit in it to know it’s uncomfortable. There’s a vanity with a mirror and chair on the wall opposite the bed, a few dressers, an armoire, a table with two chairs in front of the windows, and you see two separate doors. There are heavy tapestries on the walls (seriously? Tapestries?!) and one of those eerie paintings that has eyes that follow you everywhere. The windows are covered with heavy, embroidered drapes that have tassels on the ends that are either from the 1800s or the 1960s. Glancing up in the corner, you see the camera. Of course.

This room gives you the creeps.

“Good morning, lisichka, how do you feel?” a quiet, thickly accented voice gently asks.

You start violently; you hadn’t noticed the man sitting in the chair next to the bed. He’s someone you haven’t yet seen; not that you’d remember if you had. He’s maybe five or six years younger than you, with blond hair, brown eyes, and a wide face; he’s probably a little shorter than you. All in all he doesn’t seem all that threatening – he actually looks kind of friendly. Not that that matters here.

“My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you. My name is Mikhail Davydov; I’ve been assisting you since you arrived, but I forgot that you might not remember any of it once your illness has been reversed and the medications wear off. Do you need to use the bathroom?” His voice is kind enough but your eyes narrow in suspicion as you nod. “It is right through there,” he points to one of the two doors. “Do you need help?”

Choosing not to answer, you slowly slide to the edge of the bed and test your legs. You’re weak, but not immobile. Good. Standing slowly, you stumble a bit on the first step and he lunges forward to catch you.

He notices immediately how you stiffen in his arms, so he attempts to put you at ease. “I am not here to hurt you, lisichka, I promise.”

“Don’t call me that,” you mumble as you pull yourself upright; your voice is scratchy from disuse.

“How would you like to be addressed?” He looks genuinely confused.

You shoot him a sidelong look as you take a tentative step. “By my name.”

“Oh, they did not…? I am very sorry, but that is forbidden,” he informs you regretfully; he almost looks sad about it. “Is there another way you’d like to be addressed?”

“Forbidden?” What the hell is going on here?

Mikhail bites his lip and looks down. “I will explain it to you after you’ve made yourself more comfortable. Please, allow me to help you into the bathroom – as before I will leave you to your privacy, but please allow me to help you get there.”

You don’t really have a choice since your legs aren’t cooperating as much as you’d like. He walks you a few steps inside, and turns to leave.

“Oh, would you perhaps like me to run a warm bath?”

“What?” This is becoming more and more surreal with every passing second.

“It might make you feel better,” he looks down as if disappointed with your reaction.

You do feel pretty gross. These clothes could almost walk by themse… Your hand shoots to your neck…where’s the necklace that Bucky gave you? And your hoodie? Looking down, you see that you are dressed in the t-shirt you’d been wearing before you came here but your jeans have been replaced with a pair of sleep shorts. “Oh God…” The only word you can think of is violated as you recall Anatoliy telling you that there were no other women here.

“I was careful to protect your modesty!” he suddenly blurts out, red faced, clearly seeing where your train of though is leading. “You were having problems with the button on your jeans when you first got here due to the effects of the treatments, so I helped you put these on.”

Better Mikhail than Anatoliy, you suppose. Or the mad scientist.

“Okay,” you mutter, still upset, but if he was only helping then that must mean you were doing most of it yourself, even if you don’t remember.

“Also, your necklace and sweatshirt are on top of the dresser – I thought the necklace might be sentimental so I removed it to prevent it from being damaged while you went through the treatment, and the sweatshirt is so oversized that I thought it might…um…be a gesture of comfort from your lover.” His choice of words trips you up for a moment, but you keep your face as blank as you can. He’s unexpectedly insightful, and you don’t want to give him anything that he could report to your captors. “Do you want a bath? There are fresh clothes for you here,” he gestures to an antique shelf next to the tub before deciding to just start the bathwater. You notice as you look around that it’s quite an extravagant bathroom.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter as you look up at the camera in one of the corners.

“I’m so sorry lisich – I’m so sorry. There are cameras everywhere as you are to be under constant video and audio surveillance. You will be shielded from the video portion when you are behind the curtain of the bathtub or behind the shower doors, and there…” he points to what is basically a shortened bathroom stall, “but they can see you everywhere else.”

You just nod. What else can you do? You’re actually surprised they’re allowing you the privacy for showering or bathing.

“I will leave you now, but will be just outside if you need anything. Please do not hesitate to ask,” he murmurs as he backs out and closes the door behind him.

After relieving yourself, you look around to assess your options. A bath would feel good, you reluctantly concede. The glass surrounding the shower is frosted, so you can change in there and wrap a towel around yourself before going to the bathtub. There’s no fucking way that you’re going to give some asshole a deposit for his spank bank. The tub is ginormous (although not nearly as nice as the one at home, you think spitefully), and there’s a ledge for you to keep a dry towel or anything else you might need. Looking into a cabinet next to the shower, you find a variety of toiletries, all of which look to be high end.

This is so fucking strange.

You’re a prisoner with a goddamn explosive around your neck, but they think you need to bathe with super expensive body wash? What’s the point? You won’t turn it down, though; if you feel clean and more like yourself, then maybe you’ll be better equipped to handle whatever they throw at you.

You remove the lid from the closest bottle and sniff; cucumber melon. Gross. The next few almost make your throat close with the thick, heavy perfume. You finally settle on a wash that smells subtly of roses and spiced vanilla, and pick out some shampoo and conditioner that don’t smell too terribly awful.

You place the bottles at the edge of the bathtub, along with a few extra towels and washcloths, before shutting off the water and making your way into the shower with another towel. You glance up into the corners to make sure there aren’t any cameras before you undress.

God, how long have you been here? Your clothes are both dirty and smelly, and so are you. Looking down to find bandages wrapped around both your arms by your elbows and one on your hand, you carefully peel back the tape. Fuck, they turned you into a goddamn pincushion; you’ve got huge bruises on the insides of both arms and the back of your hand is completely black and blue. You finish undressing, and then wrap the ginormous towel around yourself and step out before finally gathering the courage necessary to look into the mirror.

Holy hell, you look like shit.

Your hair is matted from sweat, your eyes have huge, dark circles under them, your skin is ashen and dull, and your lips are chapped and peeling.

Alright…first things first. It tastes like something crawled into your mouth and died, so you brush your teeth and apply some lip balm – it’s probably too late to keep your lips from cracking and bleeding, but maybe this will keep it from getting too much worse.

Already feeling a little better, you carefully get into the tub, overly mindful and thankful for the curtain keeping you out of view of whatever pervert is watching. It’s only when you’re submerged in the warm water that you realize you don’t hurt anymore. You’re weak and stiff and definitely achy, but it’s the kind of ache that comes from lying in bed too long; it’s nothing like the excruciating pain from before. The cure must have worked. That’s something, at least.

You soak until you can’t stand the sounds of your racing thoughts any longer without physically being in motion, and by then you feel much better. Wrapping a towel around your freshly washed hair and another around your body before you step out, you grab the clothes Mikhail left out and make your way into the shower to dress.

How…how the fuck do they know your sizes? Everything fits; the jeans, the sweater, the tank (how do they know you like to wear a tank under your sweaters??), the panties, the bra. Everything fits, and it gives you the heebie jeebies. How much do they know about you?

You suddenly remember Mikhail’s observation about your hoodie; it must have been him checking your sizes. It’s still creepy, but you have to admit that it is considerably preferable to any of the other people you know here. Still…

Oh, that’s right. Krakken’s men were in your house at some point; you can’t put it past them to rummage through your belongings. Fuckers probably went on a panty raid while they were there. Sick bastards.

You finish up in the bathroom, trying to follow your normal habits as closely possible in order to keep yourself calm; there’s a measure of comfort in following a familiar routine. There’s no point in trying to impress anyone, and given your current circumstances you don’t want to, so you skip makeup (even though there’s plenty available) and pull your damp hair into a simple ponytail.

By the time you go back into the bedroom, the bed has been made with what looks to be fresh linens, the drapes are opened to admit the pale winter sunlight, and there’s a tray of food with a bottle of water sitting on the table in the corner.

Mikhail stands as you walk past, striding toward the dresser so you can put your necklace on; it makes you feel like Bucky’s somehow with you. “Please, lisich… um… miss… Mr. Krakken would like for you to eat and drink.”

“Why?” You don’t bother hiding the resentment leaking from your voice. What’s the point?

“It’s been days! You’ve been supplemented by IV, but you need to eat. Please!” He almost sounds panicked.

You’re almost afraid to ask, but you have to know. “What’s the date?”

“It is the third of January.”

Oh God. You’ve been gone for a full week.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel imagine #my work #when everything's made to be broken (I just want you to know who i am)#WEMtbB #Part 34

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biofunmy · 5 years

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Russell Harvard, Reaching Beyond ‘King Lear’

Even though he gouges out eyeballs eight times a week, Russell Harvard seems like a really nice guy.

When I tell the actor that I have a cold, as we sit in a corner of the Lambs Club in the theater district, he insists on pouring me a glass of the jasmine, elderflower and violet kombucha he is drinking.

“That’s my favorite,” said Mr. Harvard, who is deaf. He can speak with what he has called “a deaf accent” and, with a hearing aid, the sound in his right ear can get “pretty crisp.” But for this interview, he mostly relied on an American Sign Language interpreter, his friend Steven Nugent.

The tall, brawny Mr. Harvard, 38, is playing the Duke of Cornwall, the sadistic husband of Lear’s rotten daughter, Regan, in the buzzy (if mostly Tony-snubbed) Broadway production of “King Lear,” with Glenda Jackson as Lear.

I had always thought of “King Lear” in terms of metaphors about sight. Lear and his ally, the Earl of Gloucester, are both blind when it comes to deciding which of their children to trust. An obtuse Lear orders his loyal daughter, Cordelia, out of his sight. “See better, Lear,” his friend, the Earl of Kent, warns him. Cornwall stabs Gloucester’s eyes with the imprecation, “Out, vile jelly!”

But now, thanks to Mr. Harvard, who translates Shakespearean language into sign language for his role, I also think about the play in terms of metaphors about deafness.

Like Donald Trump and so many other leaders and moguls bombarded with the white noise of flattery, Lear cannot hear the truth. His ears are attuned only to sycophants, a ruinous trait.

“The word ‘nothing’ is the most important word of the play, and absence is an important theme,’’ said Sam Gold, who directed “King Lear.” “Speechlessness. Literal and metaphorical blindness. The silence and lack of spoken language in my production is an exploration of that thematic nothingness.”

Mr. Harvard’s interpreter onstage is his childhood friend Michael Arden, who also plays Cornwall’s servant. Mr. Harvard, Mr. Gold and Alexandria Wailes, the show’s director of artistic sign language, worked together to interpret Shakespeare.

“Russell is a very beautiful and poetic signer,” Mr. Gold said. “Sign language is the perfect language for translating Shakespeare because it’s filled with imagery and metaphor. Shakespeare’s language, unlike contemporary English, is dense with images and invented words, much like A.S.L.”

As Cornwall, Mr. Harvard wears a kilt. “I’m keeping the kilt for a burlesque show,” he joked. He and Aisling O’Sullivan, the Irish actress and Nicole Kidman look-alike who plays Regan, have conjured elaborate back stories about their characters, and sign them as the play begins.

The relationship between Cornwall and Regan is passionate. “I noticed that Russell smelled very good, and I asked him what scent he was wearing,” Ms. O’Sullivan said. “He told me it was Zum Mist, frankincense and myrrh. The following day he presented me with a bottle of Zum Mist, which I now wear, too. The couple that smells together, stays together.”

Pedro Pascal, who was the sexy Oberyn, Prince of Dorne in “Game of Thrones” and now plays the sexy villainous Edmund, the bastard son of the Earl of Gloucester, in “King Lear,” said that Mr. Harvard’s kindness as a person and generosity as an actor shine through his bad guys in “Fargo” and “Lear” and “ends up creating a much more original villain, more human and accessible and ultimately more terrifying because you can see yourself in it.”

Ms. Jackson told me that “Russell can be ferocious on the stage, but invariably charming and utterly delightful off.”

When I asked what Ms. Jackson was like, Mr. Harvard grinned and said, “She’s a diva. She’s obviously extremely talented. She knows what she’s doing.”

He recalled a tussle between Mr. Gold and Ms. Jackson about whether to waterboard Gloucester. Mr. Gold, with a set redolent of Trump’s glittering Fifth Avenue penthouse, was trying to heighten the comparisons between their mad king and the current occupant of the White House. But Ms. Jackson objected to adding Trump-approved torture and in the end, they did it Glenda’s way.

“She’s the director,” Mr. Harvard said, laughing.

‘Now We Sign Bigger’

For the premiere party at the Bowery Hotel, the actor wore a pink suit he found on Amazon for $100 by typing in the words “rose gold.” Inspired by Michael B. Jordan’s Louis Vuitton harness at the Screen Actors Guild awards, he added a black chain harness that his friend Mr. Nugent found on Etsy.

For our interview, Mr. Harvard was dressed down in Levi’s, an olive Banana Republic shirt, Jordan kicks and a baseball cap, backward, depicting a wolf howling at the moon.

“I love the moon,” he said. “I go to it for advice.” He named his chocolate Labradoodle Lunar.

He talked about going to see Muse, the English rock band, on his day off and his YouTube channel, where he has over 6,500 subscribers to see his American Sign Language (A.S.L.) interpretations of Top 40 songs and classics, including “The Chain,” by Fleetwood Mac.

Mr. Harvard, who made a splash off Broadway in “Tribes,” by Nina Raine, and “I was Most Alive With You,” by Craig Lucas, is from a third-generation deaf family in Texas.

He lives with his mother (“best roommate ever”) in a house he bought in Austin, Tex. His aunt lives across the street and other family members live on the block. His father, now divorced from his mother but still good friends, lives in a nearby retirement home.

Russell attended the Texas School for the Deaf, where his parents and grandparents also went and his father worked as a dormitory house parent. Then he studied theater at Gallaudet University in D.C. before starting his career with a bang, playing the adult adopted deaf son of Daniel Day-Lewis’s character, the oilman Daniel Plainview, in the 2007 Paul Thomas Anderson epic, “There Will Be Blood.”

For that movie, Mr. Harvard employed a vintage form of sign language used at the turn of the 20th century: signing “small,” as he put it.

“Now we sign bigger,” he said. “There’s a lot more facial expression. Back in earlier decades, facial expression was very limited. We were a lot more stoic when we signed, because we didn’t want to be too intrusive with hearing people in their environment.”

Dauntingly, his first movie audition was with Mr. Anderson. After two readings in New York, he was asked to fly to Los Angeles to try out with Mr. Day-Lewis at the Chateau Marmont.

He felt confident, but after he signed his scene, Mr. Thomas said, “Do a little less.” So Mr. Harvard reined in his facial expressions, emotions and gestures, and still the director said, “Do it less.”

“So I signed as quietly as I could,” Mr. Harvard said. He recalled walking outside and Mr. Thomas running after him, frantically grabbing a cigarette and saying, “You got it! You got it!”

“I gave him my thumbs up,” Mr. Harvard said. “Then I went back into my hotel room and I started jumping up and down on my bed. I was like, ‘Yay, I got it!’”

He remembered Mr. Day-Lewis as very reserved, locked in his rapacious character. “He had tattoos all over his arms,” Mr. Harvard said. “I never thought he would. He has sons and their handprints as children are on his arm. So that was kind of cute. I really like what he does. He’s very, very Method. It’s really beautiful. Because I was chatting with whoever the hell would listen.”

His next film was an indie, “The Hammer,” about a deaf college wrestler named Matt Hamill; he inherited the part after another actor stepped aside to accommodate the deaf community’s wish to see a deaf actor in the role.

Mr. Harvard said that he knows that it’s “a fine line,” noting: “I was talking to a friend of mine who was debating whether her straight friend, who was playing a lesbian role, should not have that. And I said, ‘Fine, then you can’t play a straight person.’ And it caught her off guard a little bit.”

Still, he said, he thinks that it’s important for deaf people to play deaf roles, because “obviously deaf people can’t play hearing roles. And I mean, we have so many deaf actors out there. Why are we not taking advantage of that?” He credited Julianne Moore for doing well in a deaf role in Todd Haynes’s 2017 “Wonderstruck,” but would have preferred to see a deaf actress get the job.

“I’ve met with people from CBS and NBC and they’ve asked me, ‘What would you like to see?’ And I say, ‘I challenge you to have an all-deaf cast on a TV show.’ Because for example, ‘Animal Planet,’ they have a TV show mainly about meerkats.” And why can there be a show about meerkats but not deaf people?

“And they were like, ‘How do we understand you guys?’ And I said, ‘Subtitles. I’ve been reading subtitles, captions, on movies my entire life. Now it’s your turn.’ And they laughed at me. But they said, ‘Oh yeah, you’re right. Take “The Americans.” They speak in the Russian language and they subtitle it.’ I’m like, ‘Exactly.’

“Are the writers afraid of writing deaf characters? Are we too complex?”

Mr. Harvard invoked a D.C. Comics character called Man-Bat, a scientist who develops a serum to cure deafness and who tangles with Batman sometimes.

“It’s a tad offensive,” he said. “Because being deaf is sacred. It’s pride, it’s culture. We have our community. We have our language. We have our mores.” (He said that what he was doing a bit with me, signing and speaking at the same time — known as SimCom, for simultaneous communication — is “strongly discouraged” in the community “because you’re not able to do both languages perfectly at the same time.”)

Mr. Harvard continued, “I was thinking that it would be really cool to have a deaf character play Man-Bat’s part. Maybe it doesn’t happen in New York. Maybe it happens in Texas, because they have the famous bat bridge, the Congress Avenue Bridge where the bats fly out.”

He pondered whether he could get Noah Hawley, who created the TV shows “Legion” and “Fargo,” to help him write it. Mr. Hawley, who lives in Austin near the Texas School for the Deaf, was inspired by seeing his neighbors communicating in “a secret language” to write a popular deaf hit man character named Mr. Wrench for “Fargo.”

Mr. Harvard played the role with a fringed suede jacket that shimmied when he signed and a hidden buzzer inside a jacket pocket that signaled him when the director was yelling “cut.”

Mr. Hawley liked the actor so much that he brought him back for another season. “There are a lot of actors who work very hard and do complicated things,” he said. “But at the end of the day, it’s really about what the camera tells you when you’re looking at their face.” He said that Mr. Harvard has “an empathetic quality” that tugs at your heart, even when he’s doing bad things.

I asked him why more people in charge of shows don’t create deaf characters. “There’s no nefarious reason,” Mr. Hawley said. “It’s just not in their consciousness. And you create a challenge for yourself.”

‘Looking, Looking, Looking’

Mr. Harvard, who first got smitten with acting as a child when he saw his cousin play a witch in “The Wizard of Oz,” said he likes dark roles. He would love to do an all-deaf production of “Macbeth” on or Off Broadway with Mr. Gold directing. Even though his friends in grade school told him boys couldn’t be witches, he managed to play a female witch in a play in fifth grade.

“And my dad came and he saw the show,” Mr. Harvard said. “And after, he came up to me and he’s like, ‘Why? Why did you have to play a female witch?’ He was a little disappointed. And I said, ‘Well, because I wanted to.’”

When he told his parents later that he was gay, it was a “little bit of a struggle,” he said, noting that his father was hoping for a different scenario: “Have a wife, have a kid, the very ideal American family.”

“My mom was absolutely easy and of course O.K. with it and my dad now admires me, but we just don’t quite talk about it, I guess you could say.”

In 2015, he was on Broadway for the first time in a revival of “Spring Awakening,” put on by Deaf West Theater and also starring Marlee Matlin, who became a “sweet” mentor.

His drinking amped up “into hyperdrive,” he said. “The cast members are drinking, you know? So I would have a drink. But then after the show every night, I would go hit up a bar. I would meet a bunch of fans. ‘Let me get you a shot! Let me hug you. Let me love you.’ It helps you to feel excited. And then the next day, I wouldn’t feel good. And I do not miss the hangovers.”

That year, he went to Madonna’s Rebel Heart Tour at Madison Square Garden, “which is the best place that you can go and use your deaf card and get access to the very front.”

He went heavy on the Patrón. “I woke up and people were leaving the arena,” he said.

He hit bottom in Austin after a night of drinking in April 2018. “I kneeled down, and I did a very primal scream,” he said. He said that his mom, who is also deaf, couldn’t hear his scream but his dog freaked out and ran out of the room. “It was so worth it, so I could reflect. Knowing I squirmed like a worm. It was the saddest thing I could see.”

He called his agent, who told him to go to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. But it took him 48 hours to get an interpreter to go with him to his first meeting. He says he has been sober for a year.

“I have a lot more clarity,” he said. “I never thought that I was an addict. Because my brother is, and I never thought that I was like him. But I really was. I would say I was an alcoholic. And probably a little bit of drugs, too.” He said that he took care of his brother, who is even more profoundly deaf, and then took a break, moving to Alaska to teach preschool deaf and hard-of-hearing kids.

“For a really long time, I’ve been looking, searching, looking, looking, looking for love in all the wrong places and experiencing heartbreak,” he said, “and I finally have become sober and I just feel like I don’t have the need to look. And it feels great. And I feel like I’ve found myself for the very first time and I’m just relishing it. I would rather have something happen organically.”

He’s not on Tinder or Grindr. “My dating is if I see someone at the gym or Facebook or Instagram,” he said. “Those are my dating apps.”

It’s time for Mr. Harvard to go. He’s got some eyes to gouge out.

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